Eleyne Presley, Blog

Fail. Not Epic

2011-04-11T13:14:00.000-07:00

When I read for recreation, I expect to be amused. And once in a while, I pick up a boner. I expect it. Book blurbs are akin to movie trailers. They highlight the best parts, and while I hope that the rest of the film or book fulfills my expectations, sometimes they let me down.

Last week, the best thing I could say about two different books was “We are not amused.”

Both books shared a commonality; the heroine was suffering from acute amnesia due to an accident.

The first book, a chick lit by a best-selling author, annoyed me with its ‘understandably’ clueless heroine. She wandered around in a beige fog for most of the book, ‘knowing’ that she was not the person everyone insisted that she was, but not acting any different. I wanted to shake her, yell at her, or at least haul her to the local pub and get her blitzed. I hoped she would DO SOMETHING!

The poor dear eventually did figure out which end was up, but it was too late for me to care. Even a hilarious mishap with some exotic fish and a malfunctioning security system failed to save the book.

Fail.

The other book, a line romance, was a prime example of info dump. Who wants a dissertation on the causality and functionality of amnesia and other cranial conundrums? Especially when one expects titillation? This book didn’t have just a paragraph of the doctor explaining to his medical resident patient the ins and outs of her brain malfunction, it had pages of it. Or pages of the heroine thinking about it. Really now?

I suppose the doctor was hot, and the heroine equally hot to get her hands on him, but I did not see it. All the spice was buried under layers of eye-rolling verbiage. I think they got together, but maybe they just continued to spout like leaky medical texts.

Fail.

I KNOW the next book I read will not fail me. It’s the fourth in a series. And I’ll be back with a review.

Suddenly Silent

2011-04-05T15:27:00.000-07:00

I removed the extra dining room table leaf this morning and tossed the table cloth into the laundry basket. Later, I’ll vacuum the living room, especially behind the sofa where one of The Vultures had his computer desk set up. Already, the tray on the buffet contains a few odd objects left as family members came and went over the past week. I expect more stuff will appear in the next few days.

One of The Vultures, now a Marine and home for a week before returning to California for more training, decided to marry his girl-friend last night. They wanted to have as many of the rest of the family present for the ceremony, and two of their siblings were leaving today for a school trip. We pulled together a wedding supper and witnessed as two were joined as one.

Another Vulture has finally gotten an apartment, and is almost finished relocating his stuff. He’s only coming home now to retrieve his mail, and do laundry. I guess I just thought I was getting a clean laundry room floor.

The two oldest kids zipped in last night for the wedding, and then went back to their respective home and school. The youngest Vultures have left for school, the band trip, and work. Even the animals are quiet this morning.

It feels odd. It won’t last, but right now, it feels odd. Suddenly, the house is silent.

The Box of "Possibles"

2011-03-16T10:52:00.000-07:00

This morning’s local news show featured a short discussion about the hosts’ favorite childhood toys. One of them mentioned Legos, another played with a boxing robot toy, and a third said she was a karaoke star in her bedroom.

I first thought how these toys ‘dated’ or declared their owner’s age, but then reconsidered. I haven’t prowled the toy aisles recently, and especially the male-oriented ones. I think all of those toys are still available.

Next, I thought about my favorite childhood toys, followed by how they influenced my later life and even my writing. It’s an easy equation.

Dressing up, playing make-believe, was my favorite game. I was the queen when it came to this game. My ideas spanned eras and genres. With one girlfriend, we were career gals or mommies. With another, we took turns teaching. With a third, we’d be horses, galloping across the wide prairie. Even the boys got in the act, playing pirates, space explorers, or our favorite TV shows.

I had the ‘stuff’ for everything. My ‘possibles’ box was full of costumes, tools, and weapons. Shelves in the basement held more tools to tantalize the imagination. I had a large space at the back of the garage with both a regular door and a ‘secret’ tunnel entrance through the doghouse the dog refused to use. (We took the top off, inside the garage hide-out. We could keep ‘enemies’ out by putting it back on.)

When I got a bit older, I was a hanger-on at the local theater, pulling stints at everything backstage as well as filling in with the chorus. I prowled the costume shop, and vultured the make-up personnel. I was prompter, lighting, and ticket-taker in this real life world of make-believe. No one teases the teen with the paintbrush or the key to the prop room.

At the same time, I read voraciously, and I wrote. Plays, poetry, short stories, even a couple of novels. The ‘possibles’ box in my mind overflowed. Story ideas popped up faster than I could write them. Never mind that most of them were too fantastic or unrealistic to live. I created them. And filed them away when they were either written or they expired.

Now, when my Muse is plays the belligerent card on me and says that we’re fresh out of workable ideas. That’s when I invite her to open the box of ‘possibles’ and play with whatever she finds. Heck, Muse is still a kid at heart. She usually comes around in short order, and we’re off, playing Make Believe on paper.

Keeping in CAR-achter

2011-03-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend on the roads of north Texas. For anyone who does not live in Texas, let me tell you that ‘just around the corner’ in Texas involves a drive, even for those who live in the largest cities. Distances are a fact of life here, and Texans do love their vehicles.

All of these cars, trucks, and SUVs led me to consider what sort of cars my characters drive.

In a way, cars are our outer-most garments. Some people give them a lot of consideration, choose them with care, maintain them meticulously, and even accessorize them. Others just grab and go. Their vehicle might be a comfy old shoe, or perhaps it’s the best them can manage.

Similarly, my characters require cars that ‘fit’ them. I have to consider several factors when escorting my people to the virtual car market. What is his economic situation? What can he afford? Will he consider a big monthly payment, or would he have the ability to pay cash up front? To what sort of use will she put her vehicle through? Does he appreciate performance or durability? Is she playful or conservative? Does he think about mileage or his carbon footprint? Does she drive the carpool?

Automobiles, or any other choice of transportation, are part of characterization, just as are clothes and home furnishings. What does your character’s vehicle say about him?

Production and Confession

2011-03-10T07:03:00.000-08:00

I had a very productive plotting/planning session yesterday. I filled in most of the smaller plot holes and learned even more about my characters. And while this might sound odd coming from a long-time writer, I experienced an “Ah ha!” moment: characters really do generate plot.

You have my permission to laugh.

I KNEW that characters generate plot, but I struggled to UNDERSTAND the concept. Writing by the seat of my pants has been my general drafting method. Cause and effect only concerned me as it occurred. I have over-written, chased a few shiny rabbit plot ideas, and dented my head on brick walls. And I’ve found this to be a less-than-satisfactory method, especially when I struggle with diminished attention span – or is it increasing ‘bright, shiny object syndrome’?

Yesterday, as I reviewed my characters’ mind maps, all sorts of big and little conflict situations leapt up and waved furiously. Wow! Cool stuff! And then it occurred to my foggy brain that THIS is what’s meant by characters generating plot. The fog vanished in the light of revelation. Now I get it.

I grabbed a stack of file cards and recorded idea after idea as they jumped around. Today, I play ‘cards’ and insert more details into my plot.

I’m excited about my novel and my characters. I am ready to burn ink.

A Disappointment

2011-03-09T17:01:00.000-08:00

During my ‘sabbatical’, I read a number of books. Most of them were engaging, a few were amazing, and one has been impenetrable.

I’m disappointed because this particular book is set in one of my favorite venues and periods. I bought it at the local library benefit sale last fall and put off reading it until I had completed some other books and tasks. It was my reward to myself, my carrot on a stick. Some carrot.

I cannot get into this book. It’s dense and it creeps. I’m over-tolerant of this sort of writing, but this book is taxing my patience and losing my attention. Each scene is buried in window-dressing. I even suspect a quantity of repletion, although I can’t say for certain because it does not maintain my interest long enough for me to recognize it. I might just be re-reading the information as a preparatory refresher.

I am shelving it for another day, because my perception might be skewed by the season and other life distractions. Sunny summer days do make a difference in my mental functions.

I accomplished a lot yesterday on my WIP, in spite of all the financial stuff I also had to deal with. Taxes, household budgets, and finding money for a necessary remodeling project have all the elements of a plot. A plot for what escapes me, but there are problems and conflicts a-plenty. High emotional scene potential. All that’s missing is compelling characters. And a concept.

I am not going there. I must handle these things in real life. I cannot see myself spending more of my time writing about it. I'll stick to my stories at hand.

The Days, They Have Ganged Up On Me

2011-03-07T11:37:00.000-08:00

I try to take life one day at a time, but recently, several days have ganged up on me at once.

I'm back. Yes, I've been away again, and for a while. Health issues on my part as well as those of my One-and-Only. His problems turned out to be less serious than they appeared and he is on the mend. Mine are chronic. I'm not getting any worse, but intermittent flairs tend to throw me for a loop.

For a time, I considered putting my WIPs on the file cabinet. For a time, I thought about giving up writing. For a time, I despaired of putting words together in a coherent sentence. I was unable to concentrate on the story long enough to capture it in words. Most of my thoughts short-circuited between my brain and my fingers. I nodded off, mid-sentence, then found myself with lines of letters on a document and no recollection of their originating thought.

I took a sabbatical. I read for enjoyment. I watched movies. I slept - a lot. I tried not to think about writing.

I did not have a plan for my writing life at that point, but by the end of February, I regrouped, refitted my writing bag, and rekindled my enthusiasm. I cannot NOT write.

That said, I'm pleased to announce that "Reckless" has a plot, as well as a basic structure. I'm still putting all of the details in line, but the big picture, as well as the goals, motivations, and essential conflicts, are present. On paper. This week, I work out the smaller details and create my working outline.

I just need to remind myself that 'tis better to outline now, than to rework everything from the other end.

I Plead Guilty

2010-12-07T07:36:00.000-08:00

Alas! I confess. I am a murderer. Unintentional, and yet, I did it … again. For the second time, I have killed my computer.

Yes, I fried the motherboard on my laptop. It got hot, I shut it down, and it never quite revived, although it tried feebly. No amount of virtual defibrillation effected a revival. It was a goner.

Perhaps the only positive point is that I got a new machine at a nice sale price, with a faster processor and more memory. I didn’t lose anything either. The techies were able to transfer everything from the old computer to my new one, except my office suite, the downloaded games, and a couple of other programs that I retrieved easily. I’m back up and running, with hardly a glitch.

I also put my down-time to good use. My new novel has a temporary name -- “Reckless”. I re-evaluated the main characters’ flaws, and added some more scenes to my working outline. This morning, I started actually writing the book.

While I’d like to say my goal is a scene a day, or a minimum of five scenes a week, as weekends are usually a lost writing cause, I’m not that confident. Every time I plan a schedule for myself, something disrupts it. I can attempt to regulate the Vulture distractions, but doctors will not accept my schedule as theirs. Writing in waiting rooms isn’t always possible, physically or mentally.

No Stress Weekend

2010-11-30T15:20:00.000-08:00

I survived the opening of the Silly Season – er – Thanksgiving and the subsequent Black Friday Weekend. With very little stress. The key was to plan and delegate. I parceled out the food for The Feast, and made a timed prep chart for the home-cooked goodies. We ate on time, everyone ate their fill, enjoyed the conversation, and I went to bed tired but unstressed.

We did hit the stores on Saturday afternoon, list in hand. We made a few of our planned purchases and then came home. Again, no stress. Sunday was early to the grocery store, and then home to prepare for more company. Our youngest son handled the food preparation this time, and, as usual, he did a fine job. Another tasty meal, with no leftovers.

We will not, however, discuss diets or over-eating. We are NOT going there. We will also not discuss how much writing we did not accomplish. Let’s just say that, as too many cooks spoil the broth, too many relatives cause too much distraction.

Today, it’s back to normal and work. I need to get the detailed plot outline finished so that I can start writing. I am trying to cut down on re-plotting, rewriting, and stalled middles. I’d like to know not only where I’m going, but also some of the high points along the way.

You Are Here ...

2010-11-22T08:08:00.000-08:00

Don’t you just love those informative signs? Of course I’m here, where else would I be? Can you tell me where I am going?

I attended a conference over the weekend, at a luxurious hotel. Strategically placed between Venetian-colored paintings, I saw a few of these maps with a burgundy dot pinpointing my location at that exact moment. The idea was a bit of an eyebrow raiser. Of course I’m right here. The bigger question is … will the dot move as I do? I doubt it, and, honestly, I didn’t pause to check.

At the time, it didn’t matter because all of the meeting rooms were at one end of the block, while my room was at the exact opposite end of that cushioned carpet ‘street’. A straight shot. I couldn’t get lost if I tried, or had the time. I had no need of a map telling me where I was.
Superfluous as that sign might have been, I really do rely on maps of sorts. My daily To-Do list is a case in point. It provides the needed framework to keep me on course and make sure I don’t forget the necessary tasks, such as preparing dinner. And when I misplace my map, I’m lost.

I’ve lost my Reading Map, my list of the books I planned to read this month. Where am I? I finished two of the books but now I have no idea what book is next in line. Where am I? Of the more than two hundred unread books on my e-reader and the five dozen or so on one bookshelf, I don’t know where to go next. Where am I? I had a map, and now I cannot find it. Aggravating. Where’s that burgundy dot when I need it?

Schpammapalooza!

2010-02-23T09:00:00.000-08:00

Smack! Smack! Smack!

I'm busy swatting swarming Schpamms. They've infested the blog. In order to eradicate the pesky posts, I activated some of the Comment controls. Sorry, friends.

I hope to remove those controls ... soon.

:-(

KISS!

2010-02-22T19:45:00.000-08:00

The morning, and half the afternoon, escaped. I’m looking for it, but it moves faster than I do, and if it’s cavorting with the Flemish Giant (dust) Bunnies under the bed … well … Lost Cause.
Nothing particularly ‘writing’ oriented here, just some thoughts I had about life.

KISS (Keep It Simple, SMILE)

Welcome to today’s Three Ring Circus. Today, our featured performers are the pets. Two cat, two dogs, and assorted clowns.

The first act will be Spike and the Garage Door Opener. Hubby-clown takes the trash out through the garage. Spike waits until he’s ready to come in, and then decides he will come in also. He follows Hubby into the garage, until the garage door begins to descend. The cat walks out, stopping the door. Hubby growls at the cat, and pushes the button again. Door rumbles down, cat walks under it, door stops. Hubby tells cat to come inside and pushes the button, again. Cat trots back out to the driveway and the garage door stops. Hubby calls the cat a name. Spike parks his gray furry bum in front of the car.

“Meow,” he says in his best Forest Gump imitation. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Our second act will be the Dog Race. Two dogs, one kitten, a toddler-clown, and three adult clowns, a car seat, and a wheelchair. The object of the ‘race’ is to get one adult, the car seat, and the toddler out the front door, the other adults and the wheelchair out the garage door, rescue the kitten, and hustle the dogs into the backyard. Kitten takes off toward the back of the house, both dogs in hot pursuit. Until the front door opens. One dog does an about-face, zipping toward the adult with the car seat in hand. Toddler shrieks, summoning the other dog.

Quick slam of front door.

While the other clowns - er – adults comfort the midget, kitten slips out of the back room and slinks back to the kitchen. One dog darts after the kitten, while the other dances around the toddler, who now thinks Puppy is her Best Friend Forever.

Dog Treats to the rescue. Both canines are tricked into the back yard, where they begin the acrobatic portion of their program, Frog-Leaping. Now the toddler stands at the door and encourages them. So does the kitten, batting at their paws through the glass.

Two of the clowns and their wheelchair roll out the garage, safe and dog-less. The last clown corrals the kitten in the pantry, scoops up the toddler, and makes a hasty exit, stage right.

The dogs are now practicing their Ups. Did someone tell them that March Madness begins soon?

I’m sure it wouldn’t take much for anyone to see how the two scenarios could be a recipe for frustration, without adding in a teen-age meltdown, several ‘neglected’ chores, and the usual morning car-pool issues. However, I choose to see it all as the Family Circus it is. Put the Smile Spin on it.

I can whine about how my morning has been wrecked or I can SMILE about it.

And I choose SMILING. In addition, I might miss something if I’m grumping.

If you need any REASONS to smile, check these out:

20 Benefits of Smiling.

Here are the many social, physical and mental benefits that something as simple as a smile can do!

A smile can…
Start your day pleasantly.
Make others understand you are in a good mood.
Promote positivity in a work environment.
Relax your face muscles.
Make others put a smile on their face.
Tell people that they are going to be okay.
Makes you look a lot prettier or more handsome.
Reduce all of that stress you might accumulate.
Help your immune system work a lot better.
Lower your blood pressure.
Give you a child like innocence.
Release serotonin, natural painkillers, and endorphins, thus making it a happy drug.
Make you look younger.
Fill you up with positivity and power.
Show your understanding side.
Say that you can be polite in the hardest of times.
Help you live longer.
Make you appreciate the little things in life.
Make you look at the brighter side of a bad situation.
Be contagious to all those around you.

A smile has more wonderful benefits than you could ever think about.

I know that after you’ve read this, you are smiling now so don’t let anything stop it because a smile is like eating 2000 bars of chocolate!

So happy smiling!

( http://socyberty.com/lifestyle-choices/20-benefits-of-smiling/ If you check out this link, there’s another ‘reason’ to smile, at the bottom of the list.)

All of this is just me, encouraging you to SMILE. Find the fun in the situation. Give the negatives a positive spin. Life has handed me a few lemons … and I make a mean batch of Lemon Squares … sweet enough to give you a toothache. It’s a matter of perspective and willingness to look at it from a concave point of view.

Oh, and have some more chocolate.

Smiles!

Early Christmas Gifts

2009-12-22T13:47:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, I could hardly wait to open the pretty packages under the tree. I think that aptly described me and just about every other kid. Play Shake, Rattle, and Guess with each artfully wrapped gift stashed under the tree. Hope and pray that the cat or dog would be ‘bad’ and scratch a well-placed hole in the angelic wrapping. Pray that Santa would remember the REAL Barbie doll and clothes this year, and forgo the generic, discount store version.

Then, there was a period when I almost dreaded the ritual rending of the wrapping. Money was tight and I knew that wishes weren’t likely to be granted. In some way, I could appreciate my parents’ position, when I was younger. Maybe. Did we really not have the money, or did they just not ‘get it’? Even time may never tell.

Now, not only can I really ‘wait’ for the big moment, I cannot come up with any gift suggestions for myself. At least when I’m put on the spot. If I need something, I tend to get it. If I don’t obtain it for myself, it is probably because I decided I really did not need or want it after all Plenty of second-guessing myself. I am not helpful, come the Christmas fact-finding mission. Not only that, I have so much stuff, I am not enthusiastic about amassing any more.

I have noticed, though, that some members of the family are more astute regarding gifts than others. They are the ones who seem to know what makes the perfect gift, while others are clueless in spite of the years. Now, yesterday, one of the owls of observation blessed me with two early Christmas gifts. A voice recorder and voice-to-text software. I would probably never have purchased either of these for myself, but I am very flattered that said ‘owl’ has noticed that, some days, I struggle to type for extended periods, as well as my frequent complaints about forgetting what I was working on, for whatever reason.

Now, I need to get over my reluctance to ‘work out loud’.

Beating a Dead Horse

2009-12-18T12:40:00.000-08:00

Did my message on excess (7 December) appear a tad excessive? As one of The Vultures might be inclined to exclaim “Irony.”

Message received, loud and clear. That horse aint’ going anywhere.

On a more personal note, I did not find it difficult to write in that excessive manner. I blame it on my high tolerance for the writing style of the 18th and 19th centuries. Convoluted. Multiple phrases within a single sentence. Meandering, at times.

I’m preparing for another hectic weekend. A graduation, followed by a large dinner hosted by Yours Truly, followed by a drive halfway across the state. Friends, family, fun. I am not stressing, either. It’s all planned, and in the works.

Have a wonderful weekend. I probably won’t be ‘here’ until Monday.

Need a Bit of Holiday Spirit?

2009-12-17T14:08:00.000-08:00

My holiday has already gone on a bit too long. Owing to family spread across several states, we gather, catch as catch can. This year, the 'Silly Season' began the first week of November, and will continue into January. I WILL call a halt after New Year's, hwever. Enough is enough.

However, In the interest of keeping the holiday festive, I would like to share my father’s recipe for “Christmas Dressing With Popcorn”

3 cups bread crumbs
¼ tsp sage
3 stalks celery, diced
salt and pepper
1 cup water
2 eggs, hard boiled then chopped
2 onions, chopped
1 cup unpopped corn

Mix all ingredients together with hands. Stuff loosely into cavity of turkey. Tie or sew up cavity. Bake at 325 degrees F until done. You can tell it is done when the popcorn blows the arse off the turkey.

Delicious.

And in like spirit, a poem to accompany this fine dish.

The Turkey Poem

The Turkey popped out of the oven
And rocketed into the air;
It knocked every plate off the table
And partly demolished a chair.
It ricocheted into a corner
and burst with a deafening boom,
Then splattered all over the kitchen,
completely obscuring the room.
It stuck to the walls and the windows,
It totally coated the floor,
There was turkey attached to the ceiling,
Where there had never been turkey before.
It blanketed every appliance,
It smeared every saucer and bowl;
There wasn’t a way I could stop it;
That turkey was out of control.
I scraped and I scraped with displeasure
And thought with chagrin as I mopped,
That I would never again stuff a turkey
With popcorn that hadn’t been popped.

(Apologies to the author, whoever you are. This was found on an advertising supplement, now lodged in my recipe box.)

I hope YOUR holiday feast isn't quite as 'explosive'.

One Night of Steroid Overload

2009-12-16T08:12:00.000-08:00

You read it correctly – Night. Those meds cause temporary insomnia. And hamburger cravings. Between those two factors, I have a lot of six of one, a half dozen of another proposition. Not in being able to fall asleep, or even staying asleep, but rather staying awake during the day, is my normal problem. Drowsiness costs me functional time. So, while I would rather sleep all night, I do not find these periodic weird-nighters onerous. I make hay while the moon shines. I use the quiet, less distraction time to catch-up on incomplete tasks, reading, or writing.

This morning, I cleaned out some of my email inbox. I read and deleted around 100 UNread emails, and probably twice that number of read but ‘still sitting there’ old emails. It’s not the whole of the over-flowing email box, but a good fifth of it. I’m pleased.

Now, in reference to the hamburger craving. Steroids create a ‘flavorful protein’ craving, which for me is beef. My favorite beef indulgence is a juicy hamburger. So, what’s for dinner tonight? Nope, not hamburgers. Beans and cornbread will have to suffice since I do not have time to fix a meal this evening. I can put the beans and seasonings in the slow cooker before I leave for the doc’s office, and when I return, I have dinner. Mix up the cornbread and pop it into the oven, toss up a crisp green salad, and I have dinner. I may make a quick pass through the drive-through before heading into the doctor tomorrow.

Now, a brief explanation for my unanticipated absence – again. I had to take advantage of the only available driver to finish my Christmas shopping. Add to that, the unexpected relapse of my medical situation, which precipitated the necessity of steroids, holiday housecleaning, as well a cleaning, and blogging just was not happening. I WILL be more regular. Promise.

A Reading Challenge

2009-12-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

Writers must, of necessity, be readers, too. For many reasons. I will refrain, right now, from addressing that need right now, however. Today, I am sharing a new reading challenge.

Featured on the Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction social network site is the “Take the Journey 2010 Reading Challenge”. As the invitation to join this challenge says, it is not for the faint-hearted. I should think not, considering the first goal is to read 40 books by new authors. I assume that means never-read-before by me authors. Right there, that means more than three books a month. It’s an obtainable goal, provided I stick to it. I am also certain that I have most of the required number of books in my To-Be-Read stack. However, many of those books are not quick or light reads. Some of them are philosophy and poetry. I might need to revise my list before I even begin, and I most assuredly need to hide the pens and highlighters. Annotations are not part of the program.

The second goal is a shade lighter. Read 20 books by favorite authors. Repeat business, so to speak. The other side of that coin is that it brings the over-all required number of books up to 60. Hmmm. That comes to more than one book a week. I do not see much time for laziness here.
The third goal calls for reading three new genres. This one leaves me scratching my head. What genres have I not already read? I am a printed material junkie. I read the miniscule print on the tissue paper inserts in medicine boxes. I read the backs, sides, and bottoms of product packaging. I read magazines, including the legal stuff in tiny print under the table of contents. So, what have I not read? Graphic novels? Read several. Memoires? More than a few. Archaic plays? Certainly. Pornography? Blushingly, one or two.

No matter how I look at it, I think I may have trouble finding three new genres. I am open to suggestions, with only two requirements – easily obtainable and inexpensive.

I would also like to invite you to join me and many other readers for this reading challenge. It should be an interesting year. Check it out here.

Excessive Excess

2009-12-07T08:21:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned a few days earlier, I constantly combat clutter. Too much too much. A surfeit of stuff. Gluttony of a cerebral variety methinks.

However, I’m not discussing my penchant for pack-rattery today. Well, not precisely my tendency but rather that of many writers of my ken. (I am getting over my own addiction, I hope.)

‘Tis easy to be dazzled by the ‘next’ big class/workshop/book/system/program that promises to make our writing better, easier, or whatever addresses our current ‘failing.’ We expend time, money, and energy of these products, fully expecting some sort of miracle. We naively justify them thusly: If I use this method, I will surely succeed at least as well as the originator or author.

Well, after consideration and observation, my dear audience, the best, least expensive, and most effective addition to your collection of writing tools is the attitude of perseverance. Butt in chair, fingers on keys. Writing. Letter by letter, word by word, page after page after page.

Continuing education is necessary for any career, but it should not preclude actually working. Fertilizer does not show immediate benefit, nor does it work on its own. Lawns still require water and mowing to look good, as well as a generous dose of grunt and tug in the form of weed pulling. Vitamins aren’t miracle pills; they’re only support mechanisms. Exercise, a healthy diet, and sleep go much further toward maintaining one’s body. In similar manner, a judicious choice of books, workshops, or programs can boost a writer’s productivity, style, content, or any number of aspects of the writing life, but only if they are an adjunct to actually working.

To get this overwrought balloon back to earth, I have noted that, within certain on-line circles, the primary topic of conversation appears to revolve around how each writer tries out first this program, then that book, followed by yet another class. Sometimes, three or four a month. Quotes from well-known or respected agents or authors provide the thought of the moment, followed by a plea to check out the newest or latest or even the old chestnut languishing in cyber-space. Enough ‘how to’s’ to instruct a dozen dozen warrens of rabbits. Tricks for creating fictional people, places, and plots. Excessive excess.

With all of these extras, when do they have time to write? If you want to be a writer, put the pen to the paper and produce.

The Great Weed Whack

2009-12-04T07:41:00.000-08:00

It had to happen. Every project that lasts longer than a few hours requires some sort of step back and look at the big picture. Here’s mine, covering the progress on The Weed.

Over the summer, I met with another writer who made some excellent suggestions toward getting my 250+K weedy-WIP under control. Her first suggestion was to prune the four POVs to two. We cut the female POV and the ‘real’ historical POV character. Now, I have the interactions between two brothers, friends and rivals in all aspects of their lives. This yields much stronger plot possibilities and gives me a sharper focus. It also cut several thousand words.

Keeping with my writing partner’s suggestions, my next step was to map out my two characters’ plot lines and character arcs. I started working on that, but I have not completely finished that task. I add more to each man’s sheaf of notes as I learn more about him. She also suggested cutting every scene that was an info dump masquerading as a scene, and make notes on anything I saw that needed fixing. However, I wasn’t to fix anything.

At this point, I had reduced The Weed to 153+K words. In addition, discovered that what I had planned for the final section had never been written, save a few thousand words, two chapters. I found a few more pages when I cleared redundant notes from one of my notebooks, but the action leading up to the crisis, and then the crisis itself, are not there. I know why, and that’s another story for another time. Suffice to say that I was now ready to take the next step toward making this overgrown work into a work of art.

The next stop on my progress was to examine each scene for its overall effectiveness, its impact on the POV character, and several other aspects. Tighten and cut. Take the 600-ish pages down to less than 450 pages. I completed that project, and more. I took a lot more notes for the next revision, as well as collected more ideas for the last section.

Right now, I have apx. 112K words. That’s still more than I can reasonably allow myself, but I expect to lose more words as I edit and rewrite what I already have, as well as write those last scenes.

I have also started on my marketing package. Now isn’t that a scary thought?

Return of The Blog

2009-12-03T09:01:00.000-08:00

The blog is back. Celebration!

Where have I been? Here. Finding my way through the brain fog. Dealing with family and friends. Living and loving. Chasing a toddler. ??!!

Yep, BB, the toddler grandchild, is a Terrible Two, and should be a poster-child for Energizer Batteries. She’s charming, smart, and tons of fun, and, like all children of a certain age, she requires a lot of attention. And I mean this in a positive way. She’s learning and growing. Her body compels her to move, and her brain is almost a vacuum. She just keeps everyone on their toes.

Unfortunately, I don’t have that sort of energy any more. I need to investigate local Mother’s Day Out programs for when BB visits for more than the weekend.

In other aspects of my life, I keep telling myself that I have turned over a new leaf; I will get and keep, the mess under control, I will not save every little bit of ephemera, I will not analyze each and every magazine, flyer, newsletter, that comes my way, I will cease acquiring more ‘good’ stuff. I’ve turned over so many leaves, I have a dandy pile in which to jump and wallow.

I struggle with an old nemesis – Pack-Rat-Itis. Too much stuff, coming too frequently, making too many demands on my time, my space, my emotions. It is more of a weed than my WIP. I address one thing, move it off the ‘to be handled’ pile, and three new things fill the space before I can look up. Frustrating and depressing, at best.

Last night, I made an ‘executive decision’ about some of these breeding-holes of lethargy and confusion. Rather than go through them again, to find what ‘might’ be useful in the stack, I bagged them up, filing two grocery bags with pressed tree pulp. However, as I carried the rubbish to the barrel, I passed at least another half-dozen boxes of similar low-grade worm fodder. Where does this stuff come from?

Right now, one of my goals is to re-energize this blog. Post something new at least three times a week. There … I have publicly posted my goal. Now, to keep up with it. Prod me, if I don’t.

Has It Been THAT Long?!

2009-04-23T11:13:00.000-07:00

Where has time gone? Better yet, where did I go? I blush as I consider how long it has been since I blogged.

Winter has fully turned to spring and brought with it a new vigor for me. More sunlight. I sincerely believe I mildly suffer with SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). Lethargy, minor depression, sour attitude tends to define my gray days, while sunny ones bespeak of energy and alertness. Some times, it is difficult to play the hand I have been dealt, but I persevere. Or at least make a good show of it.

I haven’t been a slacker, though. Quite the contrary. In March, I participated in an on-line workshop with Margie Lawson. Among the myriad subjects addressed, I learned how to evaluate my work for the ‘right’ balance of dialogue, back-story, setting, action, and much more. I also learned how some best selling authors construct ‘smart’ sentences, evoke character emotions, use rhetorical devices, and ‘write fresh’. Even now, three week after the end of the workshop, I feel overwhelmed. So much material to digest. And, in gray moments, I wonder if I shall ever be able to write ‘smartly’. Thankfully, those thoughts pass.

I am putting some of my newly acquired knowledge to work. I opened my historical, TOC, after perhaps more than a year of planned neglect. I knew it needed a lot of work, but what I did not realize was how poorly written much of it is. Especially the first chapters. Far too much ‘busyness’ substituting for narrative, as one example. I’ll not belabor anyone with a list of its shortcomings, as I never considered that first product suitable for publication as it was. Suffice to say I have my work cut out for me. My current goal is to finish rewriting the first five chapters, condensing them down to three.

Family has also occupied my hours, more so than usual in the past weeks. One of my sons has finished his army medic training, and was home for a few weeks leave, prior to reporting to his next post. We needed to wrap up some of his business and spend time catching up. Then, my granddaughter came to stay for a few weeks while her mother handled some of health issues. Toddlers have a way of monopolizing most of one’s waking hours, even when they are well behaved and moderately self-entertaining.

I expect that my days will now be calmer and more orderly. I can plan a schedule, and if I do not stick to it, I have no one to blame but myself.

Thanks for your patience, and for reading my blog.

Research and the Resurrection of Adéle

2009-02-14T06:24:00.000-08:00

Right. After diligently working on a short story this whole week, it occurred to me that I would probably make greater headway if I went ahead and changed my characters’ names before I finished the story. Before anyone accuses me of looking for a reason to stop working, allow me to explain my reasoning.

The story in question is an evolution of a sketch from a prompt I wrote several years ago. For that, I used a couple of the characters from one of my historical novels. In that work, one of the characters is a significant character while the other is merely a warm body in a particular location. The situation could have happened, is mentioned at one point, but in the novel, nothing comes of it.

The greater issue here is that the characters from the novel would not interact in the manner I need for this story and their original names are influencing the way I think about them. This is especially true for the male character as he is the more defined one in the novel. New names mean a different way for me to think about them, and therefore, write them.

All of this brings me to an afternoon spent on research, where I found many useful and interesting resources for my writing, but no actual writing. The story is to the point where a rewrite should bring it to its planned conclusion, but I did not get there. I missed my goal of having the first draft completed yesterday, but I found most of the information I require for historical veracity as well as atmosphere.

I could regard the afternoon as wasted, but I do not. I uncovered another treasure trove of resources for not only this story, but also several others. I also suspect I will find further information as I continue to delve into what I now have in my files. I have material for a few more short stories in a vein similar to the resurrected sketch, as well as information I require for the historical novels.

My characters have new names. I set a new goal, to finish that short story this coming week and to draft the next one. I am considering the logistics of beginning rewrites on two other novels. To print or not to print. It is not something I need to decide right away, but they will never see an editor’s desk as they are currently.

Thanks for reading.

Lions, and Tigers, and Zippers! Oh, My!

2009-02-06T14:32:00.000-08:00

What yanks you out of a story? Recently, I have had some rude awakenings in my reading.

If you do not know, my favorite genre is historical fiction and, while I am not an authority on any particular period, I am an historian with a solid grounding in what’s generally termed early-modern Europe. I can forgive some of the more obscure anachronisms that sneak into works and I try to be lenient with works that employ time travel, but when certain information that is readily available on-line or in public libraries shows up in a story, my faith in the author’s integrity is damaged.

Two cases in point.

I read book that I shall describe as a “Scarlet Pimpernel” wannabe. In particular, Heroes who make mad dashes across the English Channel to rescue unfortunate nobility from the jaws of Napoleon, who will cast them into the Bastille. The people of Paris dismantled the Bastille the year after its ‘capture’. Just like the Berlin wall, 200 years later, its bricks were sold as souvenirs. These artifacts and souvenir bricks are frequent illustrations in books on the period. Napoleon might have stood in the shadow of that prison as a youth, but he could never have threatened anyone with imprisonment there.

Then there is the book I just finished. Unlike the author of the previous book, who claimed to be quite knowledgeable on the period, I do not know if the author of this late Victorian-era romance has made any extra study on the period. What I do know is that the Main Character in the book is supposed to be a lecturer in late 19th century women’s studies at a college. I might have bought that line had the author not had the time- traveling MC dressing in garments with zippers with nary a question or comment about their use in that time. (They weren’t truly incorporated into clothing until the 1930’s.) This small anachronism pulled me up short every time I came to it and at one point, I thought I would not finish the book.

I will be the first to admit that I can go way overboard with research. It’s an enjoyable part of writing and a great way to appear to be working, when in reality, all I am doing is vacuuming the cat. However, I do believe that if the information can be readily found, say on the Internet or in the public library (as opposed to a University library), then mistakes of these sorts are inexcusable. When in doubt, look it up. Why risk your whole reputation on the misapplication of easily verifiable facts.

Thank you for reading. I'd love to 'hear' your thoughts.

Celebrating A Really Large Rodent

2009-02-02T07:28:00.000-08:00

Here in Texas, we have mixed feelings about that Ground Hog. One of our local newscasts had this to say about the event: “Today is the day when folks back East gather to worship and overgrown hamster.” Then the program segued to a live feed from Pennsylvania. At that point, the varmint was still in his hole, but is sure looked like some sort of special event to me. Officials in top hats, singers and dancers, more congregants than many worship services in my little town.

For a better idea of the situation, check this out. (Check your volume controls if you’re at work.)

Now, tell me this. What would YOU do if YOUR yard were filled with people, singing, dancing, and otherwise celebrating, hours (or days) before your alarm clock was set to go off? Then someone other than your faithful bride poked on you, just moments before hauling you out of your warm and toasty nest? I’d high-tail it back to bed too. Forget the shadow and sun. If those disturbers of my slumber weren’t bit, they could consider themselves fortunate.

If I were lucid enough, I’d summon the gendarmes, too. What about my right “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness”? Those folks were darned lucky, I’d say.

Anyway, Happy Ground Hog Day. Hope you have plenty of firewood, hot cocoa, and fuzzy blankets. That overgrown hamster says we’re on tap for six more weeks of winter.

(Explain this to me. This week’s forecast has temperatures in the low 60’s, Fahrenheit. If this is winter, I am not looking forward to summer. I’ll settle for another year of THIS winter.)

Thanks for reading!

Resurrecting Adéle

2009-01-28T12:11:00.000-08:00

I found a scene I wrote several years ago. Just a scene. It’s fact-based, and in the ‘real’ story, nothing ever came of the scene, if it even happened. However, it’s a seed and it appears ready to germinate. I can do something with the story that could have been.

Some of this originates with a blog article I read a last week. The blog related a writers’ ‘notebook’ or file cabinet to a theatrical Green Room, with its collection of actors awaiting their turn on the stage. (Please see Jodi Cleghorn’s blog post ) I have a small collection of such characters, too, and I called a few of them out to see if it was time to put them ‘center stage’. Adéle is one of them. Fictionalized and developed, of course.

Along with Adéle, I also called out Charlie, Maria, Chris, and Marjorie. Each of them has a script, although I am not certain they have the right one. Some of the scripts just need tweaking or further development. I won’t truly know until each character takes their place in the spotlight and reads the script. Will their story be told or will they return to the Green Room?

Thanks for reading.

Too Much Stuff

2009-01-16T09:58:00.000-08:00

I am not referring to the amount of stuff around my house, although there is plenty of that. No, what is on my mind today is all of the stuff, the helps, ideas, worksheets, and the like that come with programs. Now there’s a guilt trip looking for a place to happen.

In case you’re still wondering what I am talking about, take a look at some of the activities one can do with the Wii Fit. There is a selection of balance games, strength building activities, yoga, and aerobics. The machine also weighs the user, analyzes his or her BMI, and provides daily reminders, suggestions, and the occasional reprimand.

Next, examine a typical teacher’s manual. Overall goals, chapter goals, and activities to achieve these goals. Activities for every learning modality and then some. Enough project ideas to float that proverbial battleship. Some of these projects are serious, and some are more for fun. Do them all and the student is bound to learn something. Maybe.

Finally, consider some of those self-help sites one finds on-line. They encourage participation, and with legitimate reason. Immersion in the program provides focus and companionship. You are not the only one on this long and sometimes difficult road. Make friends, be encouraged, keep track of all of your progresses or, oh, no! your failings. They provide the participant with information, tracking devices, stuff to do, and all sorts of things to see.

I am not denigrating any of this stuff. It has its purposes. What seems to be overlooked by even those who are ‘in the know’ about these sites, programs, and books, is that they are collections of ‘something for everyone’. Learning modalities, activity levels, what-have-you. What is not emphasized is that one does not need to DO or participate in everything within the program. There does not appear to be any guidance toward this end. No cautionary notes about over-doing it, burnout, or just plain frustration.

Having dealt with all of these tool-collections, I know wherefore of I speak. In spite of my experiences, I still fall victim to the ‘do it all’ syndrome with all of its frustrations and waste of time. Yep. Time wasters. Sorting through all of the activities and figuring out which ones are the most beneficial. Trying to participate in all of the groups. Doing every exercise every day. Filling in forms. All of the time I devote to the myriad bits of stuff involved with each program is just that much time I am not writing or doing something else, potentially worthwhile. It’s all cat vacuuming in disguise.

I need to remind myself that the one-size fits all programs are usually four X and need some tailoring. Take the time required for that and ignore the rest of the stuff. It will be there when I need it, if I need it. Then I need to make myself get back to the real work at hand.

* * * * *

Thanks for your comments, Jo. When they were very young, we encouraged our children to call our close friends “Aunt” and “Uncle” also. That did cause some questions among my family members since they tended toward more formality.

Thanks for your comments, Laura. I’ve been sticking to my goals a bit better so far. I broke them into little bits, and it’s a whole lot easier that way.

Thanks for reading.

The Underwear Rule

2009-01-12T09:23:00.000-08:00

I can just hear it … “The WHAT? What the heck is the Underwear Rule?”

First, I did not make this up. It’s too good; therefore, I am not responsible for it. Second, it is relational, as in how folks used to relate to each other. The key word here is ‘used’ to relate to one another. In most modern social situations these days, this ‘rule’ does not appear to hold true. (I’m sure there are exceptions everywhere.)

Simply put, the Underwear Rule, as it applied to how one addressed others within their day-to-day lives and business, goes thusly: Adults referred to each other, even in conversation, by their surnames (Farmington or Mrs. /Miss Farmington) in all situations. When addressing one’s social or business superiors, honorifics (Mr. Mrs. Sir, Lady) were de rigueur. The use of given names (John, Mary) was reserved for those few persons with whom one was on intimate terms; close childhood friends with whom one was still close, siblings spouses. Those with whom one would feel comfortable in close, very informal or intimate situations, such as a bedchamber, en déshabille or when wearing ‘small clothes’. Nicknames or pet names were almost universally reserved for use by spouses and significantly younger siblings.

Hold on a minute. I see that raised eyebrow and sideways glance. You are thinking I have popped a rivet or some such thing. Not at all. Consider that not only am I an historian and societal relationships of the past are of interest to me, but I also write historical fiction. Propriety and manners were of significant importance to our ancestors, more so than they generally are today. (This is not to say, however, that individual subsets of society do not have their own rules of address or that they are as informal as today’s public.) However, if I am writing realistic dialogue, I need to take these things into consideration or the anachronisms will pull the reader from the story and the image I am producing.

To get to my other point. In writing, one can not only demonstrate a relationship between two characters but also how a character views society and his place in it, as well as himself, by how he addresses others. For example, a young adult who routinely addresses older adults as Mr. or Mrs. followed by their surname projects a different image than one who calls these same people by their first names. Depending on what else the author shows or says through the character, even more of that individual’s attitudes can be deduced without any ‘telling’ on the part of the author.

Thanks for reading.

Resolved!

2009-01-04T18:12:00.000-08:00

I am resolved to make no resolutions this year. Truthfully, I do not recall making resolutions last year, either. Goals, yes, resolutions, no.

I did not achieve most of those goals, either. I did work on them, though. When I first considered those goals, I believed them achievable, if there were no outside impediments. I have written rough drafts of books in lesser periods of time. I thought I had already established the basic plots for at least two novels, and had the foundations for several short stories. Unfortunately, I was operating on the supposition that life and health would be cooperative throughout the year, that my plots had substance, and that the cat would not beg for too much vacuuming.

What’s that epigram …something about the best-laid plans of mice and men? Why didn’t I consider it? I don’t know. However, I have not spent much time beating myself over that mistake, either. It happens and life goes on. I would like to figure out where my ability to concentrate took off to, though.

This year, this month, I made a list of what I wanted to achieve for the month of January. Household tasks, reading, writing, daily exercise, a few unfinished projects. All enclosed within the injunction to stay on track, leave the cat alone, and not to stress about unavoidable delays. But most importantly, keep moving. Focus.

Like the exercises I must do each day to recover strength and motion in my legs, I hope to increase my output and build better all around work habits. And meet a few more goals this year.

Thanks for reading!

First Day of Winter

2008-12-21T18:47:00.000-08:00

Not much to relate today.

The expected cold front blew in last night and as I awoke several times last night, I heard the fence pounding in the wind. It’s a far cry from the sounds of wind around my old house. There, the roof rumbled, the windows whistled, and sometimes the back door would fly open, slamming against the wall of the house. Now, if it weren’t for that one loose brick panel, I wouldn’t even know it was windy.

All of the holiday shopping is done. Food preparation is in line for the nest couple of days, as well as some general housecleaning. Two of the three ‘missing’ off-spring have returned for the holiday already, stuffing more sparkling packages under the tree and depositing their laundry in the utility room. I don’t mind doing their wash for them. It’s easy and they run errands for me.

Managed a bit of kibitzing with a writing partner this afternoon. I still have not resolved all of my problems with GT, but I have a bit more direction. While I am not despondent about all of this, I do wonder just how well this piece-meal plotting is going to work. What started out as a fun idea has not panned out so far but I don’t think it’s worthless, either.

I think another aspect of the problem is that I am attempting a new genre. Or perhaps it’s because I’m trying to use some unfamiliar elements that may not work, anyway. We’ll see.

Thanks for reading.

Old Dog, New Tricks?

2008-12-19T12:46:00.000-08:00

I am not admitting to age, therefore, ‘old dog’ is a non-sequitor. However, I will admit that I need to learn some new tricks, or rather, learn to do some things in a different manner than previously. What has been a workable habit in the past is no longer exactly workable and will prove to be detrimental in the future.

Primarily this. Poor seated posture and methods of getting up from a chair. And I am not completely at fault in these bad habits, either.

Before any of you take me to task on that one, hear me out. A lot of it comes from compensation. Compensation for the ravages of a chronic illness has a lot to do with these deteriorations. Muscles that no longer receive messages from my brain and therefore no longer function as they used to. Add a chronic-fatigue-syndrome situation and pain from movements created to compensate for the non-working muscles, and rest or non-activity becomes easier and sometimes more desirable. To wit: I am tired and I hurt. As any basic science student can attest, inactivity tends to breed atrophy.

I now have a Physical Therapist coming to see me a couple of times a week. Currently, we are working on ‘standing up and sitting down’, posture exercises and some stuff for my shoulders. It is not easy. There’s a lot of repletion going on, but as I have put forth the effort, it is paying off. Some of those non-responsive muscles have grown a tad bit more active. I can see some slight movement where a few weeks ago, there was none.

On the flip side, some of those exercises generate a lot of discomfort and I catch my self reverting to the old coping methods of rest, pain relievers, and the heating pad. And less activity. I need to remind myself to get up and do those exercises, keep moving, focus on rebuilding what I have lost. Some days are better than others. I just need to keep at it.

I think there are some lessons about writing here, too. Perseverance. Becoming alert to lazy habits. Making myself write, even when I don’t feel like it, or when it appears that nothing is coming of that work. Do not give up.

Thanks for reading.

Winter Garden and Winter Blues

2008-12-08T14:35:00.000-08:00

I started writing a different blog entry and decided it was miserable. It wasn’t necessarily something I would care to read, so why should I even write it? I’m stressed. I’m bored. I’m lonely. No one’s paying me to be a personal counselor and they don’t listen to any wisdom I might impart anyway.

The whole business is a downer for me as well as a frustration. It all rubs off too easily, especially when I’m struggling myself. Some days I just want to curl up in a warm corner and sleep. Like that’ll ever happen. Even my corner isn’t sacrosanct and the lighting in the bathroom sure leaves something to be desired. I relish the quiet hours when I can catch them … and then I push the ‘ignore’ button on my phone if someone chooses to encroach.

Winter is fast approaching. One of the trees across the road is a beautiful display of color. The main body of leaves is still green but each branch segues to gold and then a hot red orange on the ends. Since the sky is overcast this morning, the colors appear particularly intense. Summer brilliance on a late fall day.

Another tree, a Bradford pear in the next yard, is now completely clothed in gold and bronze leaves, save for its uppermost branches, which are windblown bare. Within a few days, I expect it will be a multi-armed candelabrum, patiently waiting for spring.

Even my amazingly hardy white rose bush has succumbed to the chilly weather, too. Until last week’s significant freeze, it had continued to produce large, creamy white blossoms even though its more vibrant companions had given in to the cold. Today, all of the remaining buds have turned brown and bowed over in defeat.

The only growing plant remaining in my yard now is the white sage shrub. It’s a newcomer and I don’t know its habits, other than its potential size in years to come, and its lavender flower spikes in summer. I’m looking forward to being better acquainted with it. And perhaps this weekend, I’ll be able to get outside and plant my white daffodil bulbs. I’m already excited about spring. I have something to look forward to.

Holiday Recap

2008-12-01T09:22:00.000-08:00

The Thanksgiving holiday has always been my favorite. When I was a child, my grandfather on my dad’s side would spend that week with us and I looked forward to that. I don’t remember anything specific about his visits that made them memorable, but they are, and Thanksgiving is special to me. I suppose it’s just the idea of family and being together, sharing food and love.

This year, two of The Vultures were absent from the family table for the first time. However, they spent the day together, having fun and being together. We missed them, but they’ll be home for Christmas. And we all ate, drank, ate some more, and still more. We watched football games, played games, and talked. We laughed and shared stories, old and new. We were casual. We had fun.

Normally, we avoid the Post-Stuffing Black Friday Madness. We try to have Christmas shopping handled before the turkey hits the table so that we can decorate the house on Friday. This year turned out differently.

Husband did not have to work after all and had noted the dearth of people at the local strip mall on his way home. Consequently, he decided that we should check out the specials since we’d been lax in shopping earlier. We were truly fortunate this past weekend. Not only did we find most of the high-demand gifts, they were on mega-sale. I think some of this was because we weren’t looking in the obvious places for the items. We didn’t even go into the electronics stores. Most of the goodies came from the bookstore.

We’re not finished, but most of the rest of the goodies are smaller, unique items. Far less ‘in-demand’. And some of them are going to require some true creativity. For instance, what to get for the dude who has everything he needs, has no great wants, and has no place to put it anyway? Not only that, he’ll have to relocate soon and isn’t keen on packing. If he’s not careful, he’ll be getting the proverbial bag of coal and a fruitcake.

Thanks for reading!

Insects I Have Known and Loved

2008-11-14T10:26:00.000-08:00

There’s a cold front moving through soon. As I sat in the sun this morning, a butterfly drifted past, also intent on enjoying what is probably the last warm day of the year. Like many of the garden plants it visited, the butterfly’s wings were pale, no longer the vibrant red-orange of summer. It is the end of the year, after all. That lone butterfly brought to mind other insects I have over the years.

For instance, those largish black and white spiders one finds scurrying across the ceiling. They’re harmless and tend to keep to the ceiling. Their primary fault lies in the fact that they’re messy housekeepers. They leave their cobwebs in corners, collecting dust. However, they are long-lived and they have a taste for houseflies. They’re also not particularly shy. They don’t seem to mind who watches them as they hunt, stalking unsuspecting flies in sunny windows.

Now that I live in town, I see fewer insects. I don’t have as many enticements for them. Some of them that I miss are the preying mantises. When we had rabbits, the mantises hung around with the bunnies, but I’d also find them on the ceiling once in a while. They’d journey around the house for a few days before someone would catch them and put the back in the garden or with the rabbits. I know they’re predatory insects, but I never saw them dining when they were in the house. I do know they bite, though.

Because cats and screens are mutually exclusive, flying insects would find their way into the house through those cat-created portals. Except for the flies, most of them weren’t much of a problem, either. They didn’t want to be inside and would find a quick exit. However, one fall we had an insect invasion. It seemed that they really did want to come in, for a little while, anyway.

Ladybugs were plentiful in the garden and we didn’t use pesticides because of them. However, that one fall, the ladybird beetles plotted their migratory path directly across my property. They flew in, landing on the north wall, crawled up and over the roof, and took off toward the south on the other side. But a lot of them took the open-window detour. In the front window, across the living room, and out the opposite window. Most of them stayed on course, in one side and out the other, but a few became disoriented and made it to other parts of the house. I spent about a week collecting stranded ladybugs since they didn’t seem to have enough sense to leave on their own. I found out that ladybugs bite, too.

Now that summer is gone, and fall is waning quickly too, I will miss the brilliant butterflies, designer beetles, and other unusual multi-legged individuals who cross my patio. They have nothing to visit there, either, as the flowers are dying, and there are freeze warnings on the news. The ceiling spiders will hang around a bit longer, staying warm, but eventually they will run out of food inside too, and they’ll crawl off and hibernate, or die.

Introducing Beech and Mona

2008-10-30T14:32:00.000-07:00

Given that I am a positive person, I tend to give even my rants and complaints a humorous spin. Some people have said that they look forward to my emails because even when I’m in a sour mood or am in pain, I manage to view the problem from a lighter point of view. Life sometimes bites one in the arse. It happens. Bite back.

Allow me to introduce Beech and Mona. They’re quite a pair. Most of the time, they travel in tandem. Where one is, the other cannot be far behind. Beech has the habit of griping about situations and people. Beech, beech, beech. Mona is seldom happy with circumstances. Mo-o-o-o-na, mo-o-o-o-na, mo-o-o-o-na. Grump, grumble, and whine.

Can’t you just hear them? What a racket.

I had to do something to shut them up, so I gave them their very own show. Talk about a reality show. Nothing staged or arranged here, but they have to quit their bitchin’ when the show’s over. Air the crap-ola, and get over it, so to speak.

The show won’t be a regularly scheduled post, but you are now forewarned. You can skip it if you’re not in the mood to listen to those two spread their brand of Piss and Vinegar. I promise they’ll be brief. However, they are cathartic. Perhaps they’ll even segue into humor. Who knows? All I know is that I will feel better when their show is over.

Stay tuned …

Friday Funday

2008-10-03T07:36:00.000-07:00

Maybe, or then again, maybe not.

Yesterday was a lost cause altogether. For reasons not directly mine, I did not have coffee for breakfast. I never felt like I really woke up, either. It wasn’t until the middle of the afternoon, though, before I connected the total lack of anything with no coffee for breakfast. But it made sense.

On a good day, I am awake but not really functional until the middle of the morning. None of this ‘hit the floor running’ stuff for Yours Truly anymore. My body and brain prefer to take their own sweet time getting things together. If I am lucky, they’re coordinated by 9 AM. An early morning doctor appointment yesterday did not allow for my usual slow coffee savor. Dressed and out the door before 7 AM.

A veritable monkey-wrench in my day. I’m glad I didn’t have anything important to do the rest of the day. It wouldn’t have happened.

Give me my coffee!!!!

On another note, I’ve been given a small commission. Very small, but fun. The kids’ new Latin Club mascot needs an ‘outfit’. One of The Vultures brought the mascot home last night so I could see what I needed to ‘fit’. Piece of cake. All they want is a robe for this 2 ½ foot plastic PENGUIN yard ornament. Will someone please tell me why ya’ll chose a penguin as your mascot? Sure, it’s name is The Emperor, but folks, it is NOT an Emperor penguin.

You can stop laughing now. The Emperor will be getting an imperial purple cloak with gold laurel leaf trim and a gold laurel wreath for his little penguin-head. I don’t do things like this halfway.

I am also suffering withdrawal symptoms. In spite of the new fall programming on the TV, I’m not finding anything particularly engaging. Same ol’ same ol’. A few new names and faces but nothing to write home about. Unfortunately, my usual remedy for evening viewing is not available, either.

The DVD player is still in the shop from its storm-induced coma. My television does not have the premium movie channels and the other movie channel offerings are of random interest. I need my DVD player back, and soon.

Thanks for reading my blog. :-)

Sunshine Weaver

2008-09-29T09:30:00.000-07:00

Weave Me the Sunshine

(Peter Yarrow)

Weave, weave, weave me the sunshine

Out of the falling rain.

Weave me the hope of a new tomorrow,

And fill my cup again.

Weave, weave, weave me the sunshine

Out of the falling rain.

Weave me the hope of a new tomorrow,

And fill my cup again.

This song and a few more like it are currently set on “repeat” on my music player. It’s an oldie, but if you’re not familiar with it, take a listen and I dare you to tell me you don’t agree with me. It’s a happy, bouncy, optimistic song. Enjoy.

You know, I’d like to be considered a Sunshine Weaver. In spite of those occasional outbursts of pique, I like to think of myself as a positive person. I really can laugh at my own foibles, as well as those of others. I do get angry, frustrated, and confused at my circumstances and surroundings, but Damn! Life is too nifty to spend it wallowing in the dismals. Heck, even the thought is depressing.

So, here’s your challenge, compliments of this Sunshine Weaver. Put on a lively song and dance yourself giddy. Sing along with a silly song. Relive happy, fun moments in your life. If you don’t have those happy, silly moments in your memory, well, by golly, create some! It is NOT too late. Live. Laugh. Love, but most of all, live and laugh. (Love tends to come to those who are enjoying themselves. To those who appear joyful and open. Smile!)

And, if you still need something to compel a smile, check out this video, too.

Crit Quandary

2008-09-24T09:56:00.000-07:00

I read other folks’ ‘drafts’ in various forums. Most want opinions of some sort. I do not mind helping other writers with their work. In fact, I usually enjoy it. It’s exhilarating to know that someone with whom I am acquainted has succeeded. I also relish the give and take of a writing workshop situation.

However, I struggle with pieces that, for one reason or another, I have developed a dislike. Perhaps it is persistent bad writing, loaded with passive ‘non-action’, over-written, or full of spelling and grammar errors. Perhaps it is incoherent. Or perhaps it is a genre-related dislike.

Before I mention specific genres, I’d like to state that while I read all genres, my problem with certain genres is more related to their prevalence. And this of course leads to a preponderance of poorly written examples. I will read a well-written and engaging fantasy, sports story, or inspirational novel with as much enjoyment as I would any other genre. Nevertheless, I struggle with a poorly written one of any genre. Or one that belabors specific issues I’d prefer to see addressed in other forms of literature. In my opinion, fiction should entertain, not browbeat.

This leads me to another situation. That of determining whether I am being overly critical or correct when I make comments on these works. How do I say “Nice work here” without sounding hypocritical? How can I encourage someone to continue their work when the truth of the matter is that I’d rather eat Madagascar hissing cockroaches? Am I doing that author any favor?

I guess I am questioning my own veracity in relation to analyzing the works of others. The conundrum of the Golden Rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Do I give the quality of critique I’d like to receive, or do I ‘play well with my friends’, especially in an area where egos are vulnerable? No parent wants to hear their baby disparaged; likewise, no author-wannabe desires to see their ‘labor of love’ dissed. And let’s not even go into the realm of ‘shred and bleed’. When does encouragement become discouragement? When is it an outright untruth?

Moving Right Along ...

2008-09-18T09:28:00.000-07:00

We’re experiencing gorgeous weather these days. Sunny, temperate, next to no breeze. It would be perfect for working outside if not all of the patio chairs had already given up the ghost. At least none of the seats ripped while I was sitting in them. However, now I have nothing to sit on outside. Only the table, the umbrella, and the potted plants.

I downloaded my information for the Muse On-Line Writers Conference that is next month. Now I have lots to read and digest. I’m not participating in everything, however, I’ve still probably committed the ‘sin’ of figurative gluttony and planned to do more than I should reasonably expect to accomplish. If one figures in the on-going novel plotting and the day-to-day stuff, I am probably over-doing it. Time will tell.

While working with my characters yesterday, I found that as I answered one question, more questions arose. Some of them are leading to some interesting plot developments that excite me. Weaving everything together is still moving slowly, but I feel confident that the big picture will materialize.

I did discover that I do not have an over-all antagonist in this story right now. Some of my secondary characters fill that role for a time, but no one has necessarily materialized to play that part on a larger scale. But then again, perhaps it will remain more of an internal journey of self-realization. The jury is still out on that one.

Today I am jumping over to work on the ‘world’ of the story for a while. I need to create the linear locations of the action, as well as figure out where the anomalies will lie and what they might be. My goal with this novel’s setting is to build a world that is nearly identical to ours, but not quite. I want my characters, and readers, to feel that there is something not quite right about this place, but not be able to pinpoint it. Subtlety is the key. Achieving it is will be the puzzle.

The Art of Conversation

2008-09-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

I hardly consider myself a master of the above-mentioned art. That idea would be laughable in anyone’s books. The fact of the matter is that, were I to be graded on my conversational abilities, I feel certain I would receive a less than adequate mark. It may be a dismal thought – failure – but I’m truthful.

So, given that I am unable to carry on a conversation with a statue, how am I able to construct what I consider approachable dialogue for my characters? Allow me to state two facts straight off. First, dialogue is not a reproduction of speech in real life. It merely appears that way. Second, I recognize and value the concept of editing. What you read today probably isn’t what I wrote back when.

Considering I’m such an inept conversationalist myself, I am delighted with the idea that fictional conversation must have a purpose. None of this “pass-the-time-of-day” pleasantry stuff. It has to have purpose. It need to move the story forward, provide new and important information, spotlight a character trait, and subtly hint at things to come, but it cannot bore with inane chit-chat about the weather or the character’s state of being.

Dialogue in books cuts to the chase too. It skips those awkward preliminaries that tend to preface real-life exchanges and gets down to business. It is active and it sets the pace of the scene, often better than narrative. I could liken it to a verbal tennis match or round of boxing.

Another reason I feel more at-home with written dialogue is that it affords me the chance to say those ‘brilliant’ things I am unable to come up with when I’m engaged with people in the flesh. Granted, these characters are not me, but I am their creator and manifestor. Without me, they would be silent. Ergo, they are extensions of me.

A final nicety of dialogue for me is that it ends. Well-placed, it seamlessly flows into narrative without rudeness or awkward silences. As with the opening of a passage of dialogue, it also ends when it has served its purpose. It has no need for leave-taking.

Occasionally, I wish I were as engaging in my own conversations as my characters. On the other hand, conversational reticence presents me with the opportunity to observe others. What makes them interesting, how to they converse, and how might I use that to my own purposes?

Working Spaces

2008-09-12T08:48:00.001-07:00

One of the members of a writing group posted links to the writing spaces of authors, past and present. I could have spent more time looking at them than I did, but one thing came to me as I hoped through some of those photos. They all say ‘business’. They’re not recreation areas. They may have trinkets or decorative items on the surfaces, but no more than one might expect to find in any other businessperson’s office.

I noticed that the few that had ‘easy’ chairs also appeared to have desk chairs. Most had a clear ‘work’ space, books shelves, and places to store work-related papers. Several had accommodations for pets and more than a few were positioned in front of windows. However, I didn’t see any that had a television in the picture, and most gave the appearance of seclusion. At the least, they bespoke some distance from the hustle and bustle of other activities.

Then I looked around me, at what currently constitutes my work area. Ummm … yeah. If I’m going to be ruthlessly honest with myself, the space looks more like that of an invalid. A TV table in front of a recliner. (In my defense, I very seldom use it as a recliner.) Piles of books and other stuff line the floor in front of my bookcase, under the TV table, and under the bed. Yep, that’s right. Bed. The whole set-up is also in my bedroom. I also have a television on the chest across the room.

There is nothing in the situation that denotes ‘work’. Perhaps a comfortable reading arrangement, but hardly one that inspires work. That might be another reason I struggle to grasp my writing many days. My surroundings do not inspire ‘work’, they suggest comfort and leisure.

When I was going over to the university, I did most of my work there. Partly because I was there, I had the necessary materials at hand, and I had time to use wisely. (A good plan, considering I drove a total of three hours there and back each day.) I also recognized that my situation at home did not lend itself well to study, especially in the two years prior to our move.

I graduated cum laude and won an award for one of my papers. In that same time, I also wrote a major portion of a novel. What was it about that time and place that allowed or compelled me to accomplish more than I am now, even though I have more than sufficient time? I think atmosphere has something to do with it.

My ‘work’ space lacks the proper atmosphere. It’s cluttered with too many things that either distract or crowd my thoughts. It might be acceptable for comfort, but perhaps it is too comfortable. It’s not organized or even ‘arranged’. It has no work surface, other than the bed. It’s just plain ‘lazy’.

The library seems to me, at the moment, to be the most hospitable room in which to establish my workspace. It has decent lighting, a desk, shelves, and the potential for some storage. However, it is currently the workspace of the students of the household. Three of them share the desk, computer, and space. Not to mention that it is in the crossroads of the house. It will be somewhere in the neighborhood of six years before the library is available for my sole use.

That leaves only the desk in my room. The lighting is bad, the desk chair sags because my husband reclines in it, and it is the back-up student workspace. On weekends, it sees as much traffic as the library. Experience also informs me that whatever I leave on that desk would either be used as a coaster for a cold drink, become scratch paper, or be moved.

I am down to my cozy corner or the kitchen table, which requires I move stuff every day. Talk about that rock and that hard place. Somewhere, sometime, something’s gotta give.

This Day in History

2008-09-11T12:07:00.000-07:00

I’m sure a lot of the buzz today will be about where each person was when they heard about the 9-11 terrorist attacks. The news this morning featured the various memorials being held around the country. Some of the MySpace apps have called moratoriums on their war-games. Even my normally ‘wild’ email box is silent.

My oldest son was in Korea when the towers were attacked. He reports that he was yanked from his slumber by the order to “Lock and load. This is NOT a drill.” He’d been out partying the evening before, but he says he was instantly sober. This morning, he left a class because the teacher chose to show the old newscasts. His memories are substantially different from mine.

That morning, I had just returned home from my morning chauffeur run, dropping some of the kids at school. I came in the house, made a fresh pot of tea, and collected my books in preparation for a day of studying for my own classes. I had spread my books out on the sofa when my cell phone rang. My oldest daughter, very distressed, told me to turn on the TV. I flipped it on to see the cloud of smoke issuing from the first building.

Like everyone else at that moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off the television. Not only was I horrified at what was happening, I was also oddly fascinated by the action on the screen. The billowing smoke and debris, the slow compression of each tower as its structure gave way and then fell. The panic on the street. I watched it over and over, like everyone else.

Is it wrong to have such a perverse interest in the physical happenings of such a disaster? I am indeed angry and sorry that such an incident happened. I teared up as the news broadcast portions of the services, as well as the unveiling of the Pentagon Memorial. All of those images will live in my brain forever. However, they’re also compelling in what they’re showing. Raw emotion and action. The stuff of a good story.

Be that as it may, today is a solemn day. Please pause a moment in remembrance.

Watch What You Wish For

2008-09-10T10:04:00.000-07:00

You know that dream or wish you REALLY want, have wanted forever, and just cannot get over? Better watch out.

When I was a small girl, my favorite story and movie was Cinderella. I had Cinderella paper dolls of several styles, probably more than one version of the story, and I have memories of both the Disney movie as well as the one which starred Celeste Holmes and Leslie Ann Warren.

In the Disney movie, there is a song; A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes”. I probably believed this at the time. Don’t most children? I can’t pinpoint exactly when it became a matter of ‘wishful thinking’ or an imaginative point of departure, but I do know that I didn’t live in a world of waiting on dreams. I acted on them in practical ways. I was always the leader in games of make-believe. I wrote stories. I drew pictures.

Sure, in my imagination, I was the hero of the stories. Those gals could do amazing things that I couldn’t do, realistically. But I wanted to do them. I wanted to be like these fortunate girls or young women. I recognized, though, that some of these things were just not going to happen. Silk purses only came from sows ears in fairy tales and prima ballerinas are graceful and petite, not almost six feet tall with three left feet.

Life marches on and with work, family, school, many of my ‘dreams’ were set aside or discarded entirely. I’ve forgotten most of them and I guess they don’t really matter. They were good for me then. A few remained, some of which I’ve fulfilled and some I probably will not. The downside is that one of them has become a reality in a manner I was not quite expecting.

You know that dream or wish that I ‘d bet everyone makes? The one about TIME to do a certain thing you really LOVE to do? Watch what you wish for, you just might get it. I did. Owing to the physical fallout of a chronic illness, I’m limited in what I can physically do. Getting out of the house is a production, not to mention exhausting. Ditto most housework.

However, I do have all the time in the world to write. Now. Funny how wishes have strange ways of fulfilling themselves.

Figuratively Speaking?

2008-09-09T08:31:00.000-07:00

Figures of speech do not translate well. Not only that, they’re not always easy to explain. I was reminded of these facts by my youngest son in a story about one of his classes yesterday.

It seems that they have a foreign exchange student in his Latin class and the general discussion revolved around the character of a figure in a culture lesson. In the particular story, the character, a middle-class Roman citizen, is paying a visit to his patron. I’m familiar with the lesson, as this is child number four to take Latin. The lesson itself is illustrative of the patronage system that flourished from ancient times up until the modern period in many places.

One of the students described the behavior of this man as ‘brown-nosing’. The foreign exchange student was unfamiliar with the term and concept, and another student’s attempts to provide enlightenment – ‘sucking up’ – proved as unhelpful as the original comment. I’m sure some sort of discussion ensured, knowing the teacher and the general make-up of the class. However, from my son’s comments later in the evening, no good response came up.

Or perhaps it was his method of engaging me in his daily doings. If so, it worked. I wasn’t able to come up with a satisfactory solution either, save telling him to do a thesaurus search for some other words that might help. (I don’t know that he did that, but I haven’t.)

It did lead me to recall other incidents of like nature, with both myself and the other kids. One such figure of speech elicited much concern from a foreign on-line chat friend when my oldest daughter said that she’d shot herself in the foot over some school project. The friend took her comment literally, expressing great concern for her well-being and hoping she wasn’t seriously injured. It took her some careful consideration to formulate a viable and sensible explanation for what she actually meant.

In addition, I, while working on a translation project, came across a line in a lyric in a song that made no sense to me. Poetry and song lyrics are rife with their own grammatical and literary conundrums, so I wasn’t too distressed at the time. I highlighted the passage and took it to one of my professors at the university. What amazed me was that she couldn’t make out its meaning either. Some form of idiom was the best we could figure out.

I don’t recall how much time elapsed before the whole issue became one of those ‘clump myself on the head’ sort of things, though. I still laugh about it, to myself. If I translate the phrase literally, it creates the exact same idiom in English. I don’t know why neither of us missed it when we discussed it, but we did. And it fits into the whole scheme of the lyric, too.

* * * * *

On the writing front, I experienced an early-morning epiphany, or at least what I hope is one. I came up with the needs and wants for some of the primary characters in GT. Or so I hope. Writing all of my thoughts will prove the pudding, so to speak.

Other than that, the rest of today’s work needs to be of the more mundane variety. I owe a few people some pen-and-paper letters. Emails won’t work. I also must attend to the annual insurance evaluations. It’s my money, and I want it to be spent most effectively to for my needs. It’s just not a pleasant task.

Assumptions

2008-09-05T08:26:00.000-07:00

"In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed---they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, five hundred years of democracy, and peace and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock." (Harry Lime, Yale Book of Quotations)

I clipped this quote from a recent group list email. To me, this is funny. However, it loses much of its humor if it must be explained to others, which I found out when I read it to my husband. I’m also sure he completely missed the subtext involved there, too. Not that I’d blame anyone for missing some of that, considering I’ve pulled the quote from the larger context of the discussion.

This quote, its humor and its subtext caused me to think about assumptions in writing. We, as authors, must assume that our audience is familiar with certain information or conventions for our story to make sense. Often, and most generally, we are correct in these assumptions because our story world is the same one in which we live. Mores, morals and manners are those of ourselves, and our culture.

However, this isn’t always the case, nor should we assume that it is, even when writing contemporary fiction. Also, any time a story involves a different culture or period, it becomes necessary to evaluate whether the reader will actually know certain facts or specific cultural details. Following that, we then must decide how to impart the missing information or if it is even necessary for the workings of the story. Can we trust that our readers will know or be able to figure this out, or must we supply it, without becoming pedantic?

When I’m working on one of my historical novels, I have to pause and consider whether I need to impart information regarding things, attitudes, or events which would have been common to the characters in the story. Naturally, they wouldn’t address these things, but I sometimes wonder if I need to clarify it for my readers. The other side of the question, the assumption side, informs me that my audience is likely familiar with most of these conventions, and so forth, rendering any extra discussion unnecessary.

However, the conundrum continues to exist because even within a circle of historical fiction critiquers, questions have arisen. I can substantiate my details, but to what extent should I do so within the work itself? Is it needful, or should it be one of those things that one should just take for granted, assuming that this is the situation in this time and period, and that the author does know what they are doing?

Crash and Burn

2008-08-28T11:39:00.001-07:00

Figuratively.

I made the mistake of going out yesterday afternoon and became over-heated. The rest of the afternoon and evening was a fuzzy washout. Over-all, I accomplished maybe a fourth of what I planned. One page on ATLP. I think I made more of a mess of the household stuff than I actually took care of.

Today isn't being much better. I spent the morning in the doctor's office and I dtill have yesterday's household business to manage.

Tomorrow WILL be better. I have no other plans.

When is it NOT Writing?

2008-08-27T08:56:00.000-07:00

Reading emails is NOT writing. Even those that pertain to writing. I’ve never pretended that it is, but on one of the email forums of which I am a member, another member counts the time spent reading writing-related emails as WRITING time.

Correct me if I am wrong, but technically WRITING is the action of putting words on paper, screen, or other visible medium with the intention or reading it again in the future. Reading what has been written doesn’t quite fit into the definition.

On a more practical and ‘writerly’ track, writing does encompass more than the actual process of placing symbols on a medium. Thought goes into the equation, as does research. After the codifying action, rereading and editing take place. I accept all of these as functions of writing. However, I think that somewhere, there is a line between claiming that they are actually WRITING and just using the word to create the appearance of industry.

Reverting to the aforementioned writer. This individual also keeps progress charts on their individual activities; time spent, words written or edited, and so forth. Again, this isn’t a bad idea as I am aware of many other writers who keep similar records, but when a new chart or tracking tool is created every few weeks, the whole thing begins to resemble a Dilbert-type business – stuff for the sake of stuff and excessive micromanagement. In addition, as a former instructor of children, I see the value of ‘star charts’ as motivational tools for youngsters, but do adults really require this sort of thing?

Research is another necessary task for a writer, but, again, do normal emails fall under that category? As inspirational sources, perhaps, especially for those who write short stories, editorials, and magazine articles with a short shelf life. However, in general, my thought on emails and the like as ‘research’ are more incidental and serendipitous than deliberate. I wouldn’t consider reading the contents of my email, snail-mail, or even the newspaper as ‘research’. If an idea comes to me as I read, I write it down and develop or research it further, later.

I also question where the taking of courses and the reading of books on the craft cease to be about craft improvement and become a substitute for the actual work of writing. I am not aware of any writer who claims to have it all figured out or who wouldn’t say that writing, as with any other profession, does not require constant improvement or updating of skills. I do question, though, the number of comparative hours invested in the two activities over a given period of time, say, a month. Personally, I can’t see that constant classes or books are beneficial. Isn’t there an epigram about too many cooks spoiling the broth?

So, when is it WRITING and when is it not?

Clothes Make the Man

2008-08-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

I like clothes. I always have. And not just as something to wear. Even as a child, dolls were primarily mannequins, figures to display all of those wonderful garments. Costumes and period fashions fascinated me from an early age. Sewing became important because I certainly couldn’t buy the things I saw in books or in my imagination. I’ve designed and made clothing and costumes for years.

Recently, the clothing choices of an up-and-coming public figure have become a topic of note in the news. Simple, elegant, practical, as well as economical. The lady shops at common mall stores. Anyone can pick up the identical outfit, should they desire.

So, what does that have to do with writing? Hey, it’s all about signature style. My characters’ signature style. What do they wear and where do they shop? Why do they choose the garments they do? Is there a reason or a story behind a particular like or dislike?

It’s humorous, to me, at least, to find that even historians and the contemporaries of famous persons remarked upon the fashion foibles of their subjects. House shoes at business meetings, always a flower in one’s lapel, sleeves that cover the hands, immaculate dress even dealing with laborers. Each detail stands out and paints a distinct image of the character. They tell something specific about that person.

How much time and thought time does each of my characters put into their appearances? It could say a lot about them in just a few words. Does the high school principal wear track shoes or oxfords with his sports coat? Why does the bus driver on the night shift wear dark colored turtleneck shirts? What’s with that lawyer’s careless appearance or his adversary’s stiff formality?

It’s food for thought.

* * * *

Yesterday was profitable on several fronts. More work on ATLP. It isn’t going the way I envisioned, but it’s good. The characters in this particular story are leading the way, and I am just following for the moment. I feel like I may have misidentified the theme in this individual’s story.

I also wrapped up a few other small, non-writing, things that have been sitting around. It felt good to get them out of my way. Unfortunately, one project I had hoped to complete turned out to be undoable. I hate technical issues, but they happen. I’ll live with it. And another project is on hold until I decide if it will work the way I want it to, and if it will then be worth the small financial investment required to complete.

A 'New Year"

2008-08-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

What is it about the start of the school year? I feel like starting or picking up projects, getting down to business. So far, I’ve already crossed a few of the little things off today’s To-Do list. And I’m ready to pick-up the next thing on the list.

School starts today for everyone. The college students begin their intense mental workouts today. The high school guys left early this morning for their pre-class workouts, as has been their habit for the past three weeks. The Girl packed her flute and athletic stuff in her new GREEN backpack and bounced out to meet the bus. She’ll start early morning workouts tomorrow.

The house is quiet, save for the morning news program. That will go off shortly, too. The early morning parade of cars to the near-bye elementary school has ended, so the dog can go back to napping. I’ve also eaten and collected my beverages for the morning. Time to get down to work myself.

What’s on my plate? Work on ATLP and a discussion on dialogue for my little forum. Some reading for M&H. Perhaps some reading for the GT project. In addition, the random household stuff.

Frustrations

2008-07-10T08:59:00.000-07:00

Obviously, it’s been a while since I’ve blogged. I’m not blocked, I’m fighting another chimera. And it sucks rocks.

Every blog entry, or, for that matter, every bit of writing I have begun in the past month has petered out. Stopped cold about two or three paragraphs in. Either I fall asleep mid-sentence or I forget where I was going with a thought. Poof. The trail has vanished.

Which leads me to another concern. That of loss of voice. So much of what I have written recently reminds me of a cinder block. Large. Clunky. Unattractive. I’m not blind to the possibilities hidden in real-life cinderblocks, but to see my writing as such is uninspiring. It’s colorless. It has gaping holes and sharp corners. It lacks character. My character.

How is this happening? I start off writing from the top of my head. I want to let my voice flow as it comes to me. But a few sentences in and I am second guessing myself. Or trying to recover whatever inspired the piece to begin with. The work comes to a screeching halt. And in the end, finished or not, I have a verbal cinderblock on my hands. Trying to fix it just makes for more ungainly writing.

Another problem is that I’m not struggling for lack of ideas but rather too many ill-formed ideas that refuse to stand still so I can work with them. It’s like a jewel box to a crow. Way too many sparkly objects to choose from. Shall I write about this, or, wait, that looks intriguing. But then again, I’d like to explore this idea first. And so it goes.

However, should I finally land on something definitive, I end up creating another brick. The idea isn’t fun or exciting any more. How could I have seen it as such? Depending on the topic, it becomes “shallow and pedantic” or it goes off in some indeterminate direction. Even the first-person vignettes lose their character or voice. Off to the figurative bottom of the pile with it. It may never see the light of day.

Even as I write this, I struggle to maintain my focus. Am I staying on track? I think so, I hope so, but do I know so?

"Inspirational" Reading

2008-06-09T17:57:00.000-07:00

Strange, isn’t it, how one article can generate a whole freight train of thoughts and ideas? I opened the newest issue of The Writer to an article written by Jessica Page Morrell. I ‘met’ Ms. Morrell years ago, when she had on-line writing exercises on a forum I had just discovered. She was one of the first people to whom I ever showed my work. In addition to her comments, she was very encouraging.

However, the thoughts didn’t end there. The article is an interview with the best-selling author, Diana Gabaldon. I must admit, I have never read Ms. Gabaldon’s books, although they are a genre I enjoy. I did pick up the first book of her series several years ago, but I put it down again. I don’t remember why. I suppose I should make another attempt. Ms. Gabaldon impresses me as an author I should get to ‘know’.

She makes some interesting observations regarding her characters and their development. She equates some of them with ‘nuts’, difficult to crack, but compelling none-the-less. Some of them resisted her efforts to get them to open up for years, but she kept at it. I have a few of those characters in my repertoire too. They’re not making themselves accessible and that frustrates me, since I’ve found that I tend to build the plot around the characters. I just need to keep hammering away at these stubborn folks.

Two of my characters have started to open up more, and I’ve discovered some of their fears and motivations. Some ideas I had regarding their story have gone by the wayside, including the one that instigated the entire story and characters. New ideas and some solid points of conflict have evolved and I feel much more comfortable with the planning for this novel. I may have even come up with a theme.

Another thought generated by Ms. Gabaldon in the article was that of allowing the characters and story to hang around in the background of one’s life, until they’re ready to take center stage. She works in bits and pieces, writing a scene here, another there, not necessarily in chronological order. Some of her characters began as secondary characters and grew into their own roles later, in other novels.

I admit that this I not a novel idea. (Pun may or may not have been intended.) If I were a betting person, I’d wager good money that this is common for most authors. However, the idea segued to the historical ‘sequel’ I have in the back of my mind. I have a frame for the story and the primary characters. But so far, not much else. I have written a couple of scenes, from prompts, but beyond that I have hesitated to go further because I don’t feel I know the characters or their stories well enough. That doesn’t mean I can’t explore any of my ideas through scenes or vignettes.

There are days when I feel like I’ve taken leave of my senses. These ideas are not new, even to me, but when I discover them again, they resonate. I appreciate articles that point me back in the way I should be going, but at the same time, they make me feel stupid. Why can’t I remember these things? I guess that’s what articles are for, to remind, instruct and inspire.

Thanks for reading.

A Cautionary Tale -- enjoy.

2008-06-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

The “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie” Conspiracy – or – What Happens To Socks That Go Missing in the Washing Machine.

Oh, I feel like such a miserable traitor. I just know they’ll find that camera she forced me to swallow. And then I’ll be string. They’ll snip my elastic and hook my yarn to the agitator. By the time the wash load is done, I’ll be filler for birds’ nests. Oh me, oh my.

If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn that smelly sock was trying to fight that little camera I stuffed in its toe. If this wash load doesn’t answer the question of where all of those orphan socks come from, I’ll just go nuts. Certifiable. I can’t afford to buy another min-spy camera. Stuff in that medical supply catalog costs an arm and a leg. And geez, the family’s starting to ask questions. For all I know, one of them is secretly coming back into the house and pillaging the washing machine. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.

Now to sit back with my double espresso latte with whipped cream and chocolate shreds. Washroom espionage, here I come. I wish I could afford both the audio and visual versions of this little gizmo …eywww … on second thought, I’m sure I don’t want sound effects. The way those socks snake up the legs of the jeans is almost lewd. And one could just about say those boxers are making out with … I wonder if they’ll notice I used a very low sudsing detergent? Now that’s just plain gross.

Oh, Kyle’s watch! He was wondering were it got to. I hope it’s waterproof.

I can’t believe how dirty these guys get just running around on a basketball court. This water’s nasty. Oh. Wait a minute. What are those socks doing? Yes! They’ve got MY sock. The others are dragging it to the top of the drum. Now they’re threading it through the space between the drum and the washer body. It’s dropping to the bottom of the machine. A little more light would be nice but a flashlight on the floor would have been too obvious. Yuck. I need to get Jim to vacuum under these machines. They look like dust bunny breeding grounds. Bleh.

So now what? The sock’s just going to lay there? I don’t see any other socks and I’ve had at least two other socks go missing in the past month. Where’d they go? Oh, now that’s just too gross. I have got to call the bug-man. I hope my imagination’s playing tricks on me, but those things in the corner back there look rather like insect pupae. Eyww! And one of them looks like it’s hatching.

If this wasn’t such an important fact-finding mission, I’d be on the phone to the exterminator in half a second. That’s the weirdest bug I’ve ever seen. I’d say more like a worm but I don’t think they reproduce like that. Bizarre. No socks. Just these weird, snaky things slithering out behind the washing machine. I gotta go see this.

Now that’s just odd. Those worm-like critters didn’t seem to be moving very fast. And there’s no holes in the wall. All that’s back here behind the washer are wads of lint and a half dozen hangers. I can never figure out where those darned hangers come from either. No one hangs things up in the washroom. Heck, if they hang anything up at all I’d be surprised.

Ya know, after watching that mini-camera spy-thingy video again and again, I’m going to have to conclude that socks are hanger larvae. That’s the only correlation I can see here. Socks, no hangers then hangers, no socks. That’s gotta be it.

I hope you enjoyed this tale. Thanks for reading.

My Treasury of Regrets -- Part 2

2008-05-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

I suppose I’m very like many other people. I have several boxes of photos in the garage. And I don’t want to lift their lids. The thought both frightens and saddens me.

In those boxes rest pictorial record of perhaps a quarter of a century of my life. The vacations we took as a couple, the births and childhoods of each of the seven children. Family reunions. Friends. New homes and special events in our lives. Pets and landscapes. Every one of these pictures, and there are myriad of them, should bring happy memories to mind.

They don’t do that for me. At this moment, the thought of raising those lids only causes a constriction in my chest. I have come close to tears on more than one occasion recently when I consider the fate of those boxes. If only I were brave enough, or rash enough, to set them out with the trash.

I know I would regret it, seconds after the trashmen toss those boxes into the back of their truck. They’re not just pictures on paper, they’re the story of my family. Even if I don’t care to ‘relive’ those days, I owe it to them to keep the pictures.

Why do these photos cause me distress? Good question. The first and easiest response is that these nearly twenty-five years of images have no labels. The task of identifying and tagging all of them is daunting. I can only rely so much on the kids to help with this task. Of course, I could ask my husband to help, and should. However, he has his family’s tendency toward taking half a million pictures at every event and then keeping all of then. They haul them out at every opportunity and bore regale every unfortunate soul who crosses their path. Is there any reason to expect him to act differently? I’m afraid he’d not only want to keep every last picture, no matter how many similar ones we already have. I’m also afraid he’ll want all of the albums placed on the coffee table so he can drive every guest to distraction and embarrass the kids.

Another reason I dread opening those boxes is that they contain memories. I love my family, but for me, right now, so many of those memories depress me. I don’t want to relive them. I enjoyed my kids and I think I raised them well, but the memories bring me no joy. I lived it once, I don’t care to do it again.

Perhaps it is regret, regret that I did what was expected but not because it’s what I really wanted. I really don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I both do and do not want to find those memories I’ve lost. So many people believe I’m joking when I say I lost ten years of my life. I’m not. I truly lost large chunks of my life and I don’t know if I want them back or not.

And then again, maybe I’m just lazy and don’t want to mess with those boxes. They can safely sit on their shelf until I am no longer able to deal with them. Someone else can place the pictures in albums to enjoy on a winter’s night. Someone else can be overwhelmed by the sheer size of the task and can curse me for not even putting names and dates on the reverse. Especially when they can’t even identify themselves.

I won’t do that, though. My mother is stuck with this task from her parents. She still has her own collections to address also. Neither of them are things I can handle. And I don’t want to try. But I do not have to leave that mess for my own family. I’ll do it, but I sure don’t want to do it.

Thanks for reading my blog. :-)

Being Green, Creatively

2008-05-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

In case you haven’t noticed, “green” is “in”. It’s ‘hip” to be green. Recycle and conserve is “where it’s at”. And everything old is new again. Perhaps some folks think this is a bright, new idea, but I promise, it has been around for decades. What goes around comes around.

I grew up this way. And my mother grew up this way, too.

During the Depression and the WWII years, when my mother was a girl and teen, “stuff” just wasn’t available. Gas and fuel were expensive and wastefulness was frowned upon. The phrase on everyone’s lips was “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” Planned obsolescence might have been the Eighth Deadly Sin to my grandparents.

So, with parents who lived through the Great Depression and WWII, and a burgeoning environmental awareness when I was a child myself in the ‘60’s, I grew up thinking “green”. I’m well acquainted with separating my trash, flattening boxes and cans, and repurposing or reusing things. I try to avoid buying stuff that will ultimately end up in a landfill or that destroys more trees. I try to fix before I discard and replace.

I have always despised those darned plastic grocery bags. To me, they seem like such a waste of resources. They are reusable only to a point and they still end up in landfills, if I don’t remember to take them back to the store. (My husband is far less concerned about his environment. We are not going there today.) Consequently, I am thrilled with the push, in some of the larger stores, to use “green” shopping bags.

I am going to admit to being “cheap”, too. Why should I spend money on a new bag, or, for me, twenty new bags, when I have a dozen boxes of fabric “insulating” my garage? Ever since I can remember, my aunt has made gift bags out of the fabric left over from other projects. I can use some of my marvelous stash to make my own reusable grocery tote bags.

After school lets out for the summer, I am going to start on my “green grocery bag project.” This way I will be doing several things at once, including using some of that never shrinking collection of wonderful fabrics I bought when I had big ideas. But life has a way of rearranging priorities. I’ll just have to repurpose the stuff, so I am not wasting it.

How are you “going green” in a creative way?

The Music of My Life

2008-05-16T07:18:00.000-07:00

The Sunday magazine program on TV featured two musicians who I grew up listening to. John Lennon and Neil Diamond. These two musicians, or the Beatles, in the case of Lennon, are two that I can specifically recall from my childhood. I remember my friends and me raiding their older siblings’ record collection and copycatting their gushing over Ringo and the other Beatles. Singing along with “Love, Love Me Do” and “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”. Wishing my parents would buy me a Beatles album.

Then, a few years later, along came Neil Diamond. I adored “Sweet Caroline” and “Holly Holy”. I even remember naming a character in one of my early grade school puppet plays “Caroline”, pronounced the same as in the song. I saved my babysitting money to buy Diamond’s “Serenade” album when I was a young teen and I wore out that album. I have replaced it twice since then.

As I consider the impact these two performers had on my life, I couldn’t help but think how they had also influenced my writing. Lennon’s physical appearance was the prototype for one of the main characters in one WIP. A Beatles’ song cued for an early heroine and I’m sure if I thought a bit, and listened to my albums again, more relationships would emerge.

Likewise, several of Neil Diamond’s numbers have tied into my stories in some manner. One song so strongly reminded me of a particular scene in a WIP that, at one time, I felt compelled to write that scene even though it was out of order and none of the lead-up scenes had been written. A few others have suggested short stories. Of course, I also enjoy listening to these albums when I work.

I have also thought about the musical choices of my characters. What sort of music did they grow up listening to? How did it affect them? Who or what do they listen to now? What sort of music do they dislike and why? Do they play an instrument or sing? It’s an interesting, and pertinent, aspect of characterization, even if these details never show up in the novels.

Any thoughts?

Send Us A Sign, Oh Great One

2008-05-12T18:25:00.000-07:00

I rode into the city this morning. I no longer drive and I rarely go into the city, but today was one of those unavoidable trips. Can I say I am glad I do not need to make this trip very often? Especially during the morning commute?

Any space between a vehicle and the one ahead of it is fair game for anyone who wants to get a car ahead. Zipping into one space and then back out as another one opens up. Swoosh into a space and then braking, only to speed up to nose into another lane, forcing the car in that lane to come to a hasty stop.

It is my opinion, gained by years of observation and supported by those whose job is to regulate traffic, that signaling one’s intent is beneficial. While signaling won’t force those who have no intention of being good Texans and driving friendly to allow lane changers some room, it will give those with a more charitable nature to do another good deed. It can also go along ways towards defusing road rage and preventing fender benders or worse. There are also those less-discussed but very real issues of food and drink accidents and the occasional knickers situations.

Therefore, send us a sign, Oh Great One, or, better yet … use your signals, Yahoo!

Thanks for reading.

Rendered Invalid

2008-05-10T18:11:00.000-07:00

My brainstorming partner made an interesting observation regarding a plot point in my WIP, RC. I had considered using a hot social issue until she pointed out the possibility of it becoming a non-issue in the near future, before my book hit the shelves. Sadly, she has a valid point there. I had another story derailed because a technology “explosion” that rendered some of the plot complications invalid. This one could do likewise.

Also, as I give it further consideration, this issue isn’t significant enough in the lives of the two main characters to carry an entire book. Especially since neither of them are immediately involved in it. If I didn’t learn anything else while I struggled with sections of TOC, it’s that trying to force an incident in which none of the characters has a vested interest into the story as a plot point is an exercise in futility.

I appreciate a good second set of “eyes” – ones that are not so involved in the story. My partner also gave me some other directions to consider within this story, so I expect I will be delving deeper into my characters’ lives and psyches to find more things with which to create conflicts and complications. And the plot thickens.

Thanks for reading.

Not Even Spinning My Wheels

2008-05-08T08:27:00.000-07:00

Please excuse any randomness in posting that you may find here. I’m having physical and mental issues right now, and these are creating further personal and emotional ones. Sounds pretty pathetic, doesn’t it? I don’t want it to be that way, but this is how it goes right now.

So I am having trouble focusing on anything. I’m sure you’ve heard about the ‘perils’ of Multiple Sclerosis (MS) and how a diagnosis is synonymous with a wheelchair sentence. Let me tell you right now, that is not necessarily the case. There are lots of perfectly able MS folks running around out there right now. Some of them might just bowl you over in their high-tech wheelchairs, too. However, what aren’t usually discussed are the cognitive and mental issues that are also a part of MS.

Yep, the ones that have broadsided Yours Truly recently. Focus is fuzzy. Memory comes and goes. And let’s not forget to mention the evil Fatigue Monster who sneaks up on me and the next thing I know, the clock says I’ve been out for the past 30 minutes. Even if I manage to stay awake, I experience momentary lapses of consciousness.

This wrecks havoc on a lot of things. And I sometimes even wonder how I managed to finish that final semester of school a few years ago. Maybe things weren’t so bad then. I do know that they’ve gotten worse in the intervening years. I forget what I am working on, in the middle of the project. If I pause to rest my shoulders or fingers, I risk either falling asleep or losing my train of thought. My memory, never optimal, is all but absent these days. I am eternally thankful for my early CYA (Cover Your Arse) business training in “Write It Down”. I survive on chicken-scratched notes on little pieces of paper.

Consequently, things may be random around here for a while. I may be bitchy, or whiney, or snarky. I’ll try to give fair warning, but I’m not responsible if you thought you were getting a discourse on writing or something smart and intelligent. There will be days when that just does not happen.

Thanks for reading.

The Pink Flamingo

2008-05-07T07:43:00.000-07:00

“It’s missing.” First in whispers in doorways and then louder as we passed in the halls. Frantic searches through closets and in file cabinets yielded nothing. Our class mascot was gone.

School tradition dictated that all of the classes’ mascots become part of the annual holiday decorating scheme. Most of the ‘mascots’ used for tree decorations were only specially decorated ornaments or class tools with holiday ribbons on them, but ours was different. Ours was a can of corn. It had been the ‘official’ mascot for the Latin Club for years. It was there even before our current teacher arrived, more than ten years ago. And now it had disappeared.

“Someone should check the stuff for the canned food drive.”

A trio of kids dashed from the classroom, intent on intercepting the final loading of the all of the food we’d collected. Unfortunately, we arrived at the auditorium door in time to see the loaded truck turn the corner out of the parking lot. Our can of corn, our class mascot, was on its way to a food bank 30 miles south of us.

“I sure hope someone checks the expiration dates on that food,” Aaron said as we tromped back to class.

“Yeah. I’d feel terrible if someone got sick and died after eating our mascot.”

We chuckled uneasily as we went back to class. Who knew how long a can of vegetables remained ‘eatable’ after it’s expiration date. If it even had one.

We left school for the Thanksgiving holiday gloomy at the prospect of no Latin club mascot on the school Christmas tree. No one had even suggested replacing it with a new can. It just wouldn’t be the same.

As we trudged into the school and through the foyer, a boisterous crowd surrounding the glittering tree caused us to draw up short. Laughter and exclamations of amazement drew us into the circle. There we saw it, perched in the lower branches of the tree, a tiny laurel wreath on its head at a rakish angle and a scroll tied in gold and imperial purple ribbons clasped in its upraised claw. Our new mascot was a pink flamingo lawn ornament, complete with a ‘Roman’ nose and imperious expression.

Thanks for reading.

Stuff, Stuff, and MORE Stuff

2008-05-05T08:12:00.000-07:00

New furniture will be arriving someday Wednesday and the old things need to be out before then. That means all of the drawers, shelves, and surfaces must be unloaded. Unloaded and stored somewhere. Therein lies the kicker. Everything was in its place.

That’s not exactly true. Some of this ‘stuff’ never has had a home. It sits here, there, and everywhere. It is moved from one place to another. New stuff hasn’t found a spot yet. It’s the sort of thing that keeps being removed from its space. Whatever the reason, I still have a lot of odd things sitting around and they need to be put somewhere else.

By the end of the day yesterday, most of the stuff was boxed and stashed in the walk-in closet or the garage. Including those odds-and-ends. They didn’t go quietly, though. OK, I did not put them away ‘gracefully’. I resisted. I balked. I puttered. I came close to an emotional episode. But I managed to put the stuff into boxes. I closed the lids and watched as Husband carried them into the closet.

They did not go ‘quietly’. I had to remind Husband to put them where I could get to them right away. Ridiculously, most of this stuff isn’t even things I need or use regularly. It’s the flotsam and jetsam of life. If I don’t open those boxes for the next two years, as has been the case from my previous move, I probably won’t miss much or any of the stuff. I just don’t know what to do with it.

Perhaps, by the end of next weekend, I will have made my peace with the ‘stuff’, or given it a new home. But then again, I might find it a spot for it in the back of the closet.

A Book Review

2008-04-27T17:41:00.000-07:00

Final Witness by James Scott Bell – Review

Rachel Ybarra, a law student at USC has scored the position of a lifetime. As a legal assistant in the United States Attorney General’s Office, she will aide in preparing to try a Russian mobster who is accused of murder. Not only that, Rachel and her boss, Alan Lakewood, must face a defense attorney who ‘never’ loses, and makes sure she doesn’t.

After the murder of the prosecution’s key witness, Rachel assumes the job of befriending and convincing the defendant’s former mistress to testify against him. She must also stay one step ahead of the defendant’s hit man while protecting the identity of their star and only witness for the prosecution. In addition, a relationship develops between Rachel and Jeff Bunnell, the FBI agent who inadvertently allowed the murder of the first witness and who is now trying to protect her as well as find out who murdered the witness.

Final Witness is a fast-paced legal thriller. It’s easy to read and Bell’s characters are all believable with strong motivations. They are not perfect people and their inward struggles are as important to the story as the driving action. One thing that surprised me was the natural and unobtrusive Christian message included in the story.

Thanks for reading.

Mixed Metaphors and Resolutions

2008-04-15T09:33:00.000-07:00

I recall a scene in the movie “Camelot” where King Arthur considers the barbarity of the world and how he will right all of these wrongs in his kingdom of Camelot. He determines that the denizens of his kingdom will learn to live in a ‘civilized’ manner and he makes several “resolutions” to this effect. “Resolved,” he proclaims to Queen Guinevere, his dogs, and whoever else is present, and then makes his new decrees.

In fact, if I remember, he tends to do this throughout the film, even as his world crumbles back into the barbaric past from which it arose.

I’m not on quite that grand a stage, but I am (again) standing up to proclaim “Resolved.”

I couldn’t get back to sleep after waking up in the wee smalls this morning. I lay in bed trying to convince myself that shut eyes equate with sleep. Nothing doing. My brain was batting at a thousand different thoughts and actually connecting with a few. Home runs are still to be determined, however.

Two years after my move and a good number of boxes are still packed and stacked. My mind is having trouble dealing with the day-to-day most days, so giving much consideration to these bigger and, yes, I’ll admit, emotionally loaded, collections has not been top priority. However, in the dark of the night, my brain announces “Resolved.”

Now I really couldn’t sleep, so I got up to write down my newly created resolutions. I also added three more ‘quick’ items to my day’s “Must Do” list, as the first actions toward a more “civilized” life, or at least one that has fewer “barbarians” trying to hold me back.

Of course, there’s also that rather more practical matter of the need for some temporary storage for two bedrooms’ worth of furniture. I guess when one finally gets a garage, one also becomes the storage place for all of the transitory children. Thanks for the bequeath, Mom.

Relationships

2008-03-25T19:20:00.000-07:00

I read this short quote in a book last night. (I do this; I start a book, read the first page or two and come up with some ‘amazing’ insight that captures my imagination, for half a minute.) Anyway, here’s the quote: “Two lovers whose relationship is coming apart at the seams.” At the moment, I think that was just a part of the sentence. The quote comes from a book on writing scenes. I don’t have it convenient to give the reference, but I’ll catch it up in a bit. (Writing is the order of the moment.)

Anyway, my first thought upon reading this was that a romance is supposed to be about two people beginning or establishing a relationship, not losing the relationship. However, why would it not be about a relationship coming unraveled? Especially at the beginning, when they’re almost ready to call it quits? Actually, that doesn’t even have to be at the very beginning, it can be the crisis point. But after all of the building of the relationship, the learning about each other etc., why should the story NOT be about the thing that threatens the whole relationship?

I think that might be an underlying idea with a romance. The thing that threatens to undermine whatever either of the characters want and need. They can refuse to acknowledge it or they might not even be aware of it, and they need to work through it. They can do it together or they can fight it. But that relationship cannot gin along smoothly because this is a fictitious world and nothing can be dull and uneventful. Readers will not appreciate it.

So where does that leave me? With “Maury/Watch This’, the two characters are TOO cooperative, until closer to the end. They need to have major disagreements and differences of opinion. I figured this out fairly early on but didn’t do anything about it. I suppose that’s because I knew, even from the first rattle out of the box, it was going to need a major overhaul in order to get it ship-shape.

Regarding TOC. That is not specifically a romance, although that is a major component. Achille and Madeleine don’t get their relationship together until halfway through it, and then he’s too busy to make it work, until the end. Since I have not decided which ending I am using, I don’t know if the relationship will become one of those dull and ‘normal’ family things or if it will end. That will be dependent on the rewrite. But I feel that there is more tension involved here, even though the two characters get along. They have outside threats to their ‘togetherness’.

‘Connie and Robert’ is not far enough along to have any thoughts about how things will or will not go. However, the fact that I have been thinking about this should mean that I put in those conflicts that threaten to tear them apart. I do think that family issues will be part of that. He’s a family guy and she isn’t so much. In addition, he embraces his ethnicity while she does not. I have a lot of work to do here, and I’d rather get it going early than have to fix it later.

‘Graceland’ is also not far enough into the thought process to be able to say if there are any relationship issues between Jeffery and Evelyn. This is not specifically a romance novel either, but those two do end up together in some manner by the end of the book. I think these two need to have differences of opinions about what must be done to ‘rescue’ everyone, but their story doesn’t need to have a HEA ending. I might not even have them end up together at all. Evelyn might just go home and tell off her former fiancée. On the other hand, perhaps she’ll convince him to beat the heck out of a guy who drives a bus for the Magical Mystery Tour.

Anger Management

2008-03-11T07:33:00.000-07:00

The movie is a scream. Funny doesn’t begin to describe it. If you haven’t checked it out yet … why ever not? Go do it. NOW. No spoilers, but I would rank the ending along with that of The Sting. Wonderful and totally unexpected.

However, I am not going to talk about movies, even though they can be therapeutic. Today, I am managing anger by just writing about each and every little thing that is driving me nuts and keeping me from focusing on the things I want to work on. And that’s the process I intend to follow until I get rid of all of this excess baggage.

At least I can count all of this crap-shoot toward this month’s writing challenge. It saddens me that I am not making any forward motion on either of the novels or short stories, but I am hoping that once I have gotten these irritations out of my mind, I can pick up where I am stalled.

I probably won’t post most or even any of these rants here or anywhere. I have issues with airing dirty laundry, mine or any one else’s, for the public to examine. If something comes from one of these rants, then I might do more with it. I also don’t care to overly offend those about whom I am ranting. I live with some of these folks and I do love them. They just drive me nuts. I do have some fun ideas. I’d love to write those things, rather than the negative vibe pieces I’m dumping out right now.

I’ll be back. I apologize for the longer than anticipated absence. There are reasons. They just sound lame right now, other than a computer crash and two snowstorms. Some things are unavoidable.

Thanks for reading.

Brainstorming

2008-02-12T17:51:00.000-08:00

My online writing pals held an impromptu brainstorm session a few weeks ago. After the ‘requisite’ chit-chat, we got down to the business of assisting me in figuring out why one of my short stories had hit a stalemate. We came up with a lot of interesting ideas and had fun as well. We’ll do it again, soon.

Originally, I wrote the story in third person, but that wasn’t working, so I switched to first person. It still seemed flat and unexciting and so I set it aside, pending the brainstorm session. We asked a lot of questions about my character and her family, etc. Then we came up with several great ideas. I was almost ready to start writing again.

Then, as I began to put all of the notes together, I discovered more stuff about my character and the story. One of the ideas we had really pushed around began to unravel. The artifact, which was central to the story, did not embody the symbolism I desired but the one that did have the necessary symbolism did not work with the story as we brainstormed it. I’ve had to rethink the story and its theme, again.

I started writing the story again yesterday. I’m not sure how it will turn out now, but I have decided to write it until it is finished and then straighten it out, if I can. It may or may not work as I hope it will. Only finishing it will tell me that.

Thanks for reading.

Forward February

2008-02-03T15:03:00.000-08:00

Mission accomplished. At least the one where I need to plan out my projects for the month. I’ve probably planned too much but on the other hand, I at least have a rough map of where I am going and what I need to do to accomplish my goals. Writing, at least.

I am laying the groundwork for two different novels, using two different ‘plans’. I am utilizing Randy Ingermanson’s “Snowflake” method for one of the projects and for the other one I am working through the Forward Motion Two-Year Novel (2YN) class. I’m trying them both out because my previous novel didn’t work out quite as I had anticipated and I hope to head off some of the problems I encountered before they show up. I would rather not have to go back and try to fill in holes just to create some form of coherence. I’ll post my thoughts on each of these as I go.

I also finished two more book reviews. They still go on ‘paper’ slowly, but I am beginning to see how to put them together a little better. Moreover, the whole process is giving me a better handle on things such as the Three-Act Structure. That’s a good thing, too, since I need a better grasp of that for one of my aforementioned projects.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

Wednesday ... It Happened

2008-01-31T05:22:00.000-08:00

Yesterday began far too early. Early starts are fine if they follow a good night’s sleep, but in spite of my best intentions, that didn’t happen. So, when the alarm goes off at 4:45 and bodies need to be out of bed by 5, I end up spending half the morning in a brain-fog. I’m just glad I wasn’t the one who needed to be up and functioning at that hour.

I drafted two book reviews. I’m not quite happy with the first one. Too many repeated phrases and I am still not sure how much of the plot I should put in there. What can I say? I’m still experimenting with this genre. I’ll get those two finished today, draft the fourth one that’s sitting on my desk and fix the one I wrote the other day. I suppose the next step will be to figure out what I am going to do with the finished product.

I guess, since today is the last day of the month, I should evaluate what I have done, what I didn’t do and what I want to next month. I feel like I spent the first half of the month dithering about what I was going to do and then not accomplishing whatever I thought I was going to do. And if that sounds confusing or undecided, well, it is. Somewhere I lost myself again.

I’m getting tired of that.

Thanks for reading and your comments.

Threat Performed

2008-01-19T04:35:00.001-08:00

I finally did what I have been telling myself I SHOULD do for a long time. Write the stories or vignettes that are inspired by particular pieces of music or photos or other stimuli. I cannot seem to write anything else this week, so there you have it. And yes, I have been writing, and hitting the delete button, and writing some more and the deleting it all over again.

Anyway, here is today’s inspiration and the result. I hope you enjoy it. (Maybe I will figure out how to put a music widget in here that plays the music I want it to play.)

Concerto Grosso Op. 6 no. 6 Handel

The bellows roars. The balloon begins to fill with hot air, a puff and then another. With jerks and then more smoothly as its rainbow envelope fills, the balloon begins to take shape. Soon it strains at its tethers, anxious to be free to rise with the sun.
We climb into the waiting gondola and adjust the burners.

Lift off. We are free. Slowly we ascend through the morning. The air is clear and crisp. Even with the roaring flames above our heads, our breath creates little cloud puffs in the otherwise cloudless sky. My hands tingle and I rub my cheeks.

Above, the last vestiges of a full moon fade with the rising sun. Below the land begins to appear from its dawn-dark covering. We bob and drift. The pilot adjusts the burners and we rise further to catch a new wind current. In the distance, a snow-covered mountain suddenly scintillates as the sun strikes it. At its foot, fog rises over the valley. The sun crests the horizon. The light from our fire dims. The rhythmic rocking of the gondola lulls me. Sailing along up here, I view the land as it slides by in its ever-changing hues and patterns. Punctuated by the rises of hills, greens and browns in regular and then irregular patches create a crazy quilt. The roar of the burners seems almost distant up here, lost in the open sky.

Thanks for reading.

"The End"

2008-01-10T11:21:00.000-08:00

It’s ‘finished’. My current WIP, that is. I wrote the final chapter/denouement as a summary and put it on the shelf for later. I struggled with doing it this way, but I struggled with writing it, too. I was not sure how a police stand-off in a kidnapping incident would actually be handled. I wasn’t sure how my hero would handle parts of his job in order to bring the action to a close and I wasn’t even sure about some of the legalities of the situations. Too many questions and I wasn’t feeling comfortable with writing any more of the story. So, while I am researching these details, the story will sit. At 70K words, I shouldn’t feel too bad about a rough draft.

I can move on to the next set of projects for the month now. Time to get out that more detailed planning sheet and see what’s next on the list.

Books and More Books

2008-01-06T12:10:00.000-08:00

I went book shopping yesterday and came home with a dozen books, all for $60. Some of them were for DD but seven of them are mine.

The last couple of times I have gone on the spur of the moment, I couldn’t remember what I wanted to look for. So yesterday, I made up a list of the authors and books I wanted to read before I even left the house. I used to keep a running list handy but somewhere along the line, I lost that list, and I know that I had severely amended it too. I’m glad I planned ahead even that little bit.

I am pleased with my acquisitions. I bought one book written by a favorite author, Leo Uris, and one by Isabel Allende, whom I have not read before but I decided I would check out. I also bought one non-fiction book to add to my collection of books on the French Revolution. I purchased River God, (Wilbur Smith), which had come highly recommended by Randy Ingermanson and Frances Burney’s Evelina, which was mentioned on a board dealing with the 18th century. Finally, I purchased a book with a title that appealed to me and another I had heard about but all I could remember about it was that it was set sometime in the 18th century.

My To Be Read (TBR) pile on the floor by the bed has now surpassed the two dozen figure and I am almost out of bookshelf space in the library. I am not sure where I will put these new additions. I have more than enough books to keep me reading for a while. However, I’m also sure that I will add more books to the stack well before I actually finish the ones already there. There is nothing quite so comforting than knowing I have lots to read, no matter what my mood.

So what’s new on your TBR pile? Any good recommendations?

Thanks for reading.

The Happy To-Do List

2008-01-04T15:37:00.000-08:00

I wrote eleven items on the list and crossed off nine of them before five PM. And that includes writing 1,500 words. I feel good about the whole day.

I pulled out several old short stories I want to re-examine and see if I can rewrite them. I’ve done a lot of study on short stories recently and I’d like to see if I am able to put some of what I have learned to use. My ultimate goal here is to have five stories to submit to the Writers Digest Short Story competition in May. I’m going to begin this project next week.

I also unearthed a couple of other old bits while looking for these stories. One was the original first couple of pages for my NaNo novel. I didn’t compare the two for style or anything like that but it might be interesting sometime in the future. Or not. I also found a couple of character sketches, one of which I would have gone looking for in the next few weeks because it’s a sketch for the heroine in one of the books I am planning on writing this year, maybe in March. Now I am excited about beginning that project too.

I probably should quit before I overload myself so early in the year.

Thanks for reading.

Floundering In the New Year

2008-01-02T13:07:00.000-08:00

It’s bright! It’s new! It’s inspiring and invigorating! It’s a New Year!

And the downside is that I am not ready for it. In spite of almost constant reminders, even from myself, it has sneaked up on me. I am not start the year off running. Not even a moderate walk. Nope. Right now, I am still trying to figure out where I am going, now that the New Year has begun. I had ideas but I neglected to write them down and now, as the month advances, I am again floundering. The story of my life.

Next week, a friend is conducting a short writing challenge, so I need to decide what I will focus on. I think I will continue to wrap up incomplete projects. Putting the wraps on things does invigorate me and gets me primed for more writing action. I’d like to continue to feel excited each week and month of this year.

Besides considering next week’s bigger writing detail, I think I will focus the rest of this week on getting little things out of the way. Type up that pile of notes. Clear off my chair-side table. Get some odds and ends I have been avoiding out of my hair entirely. Pull together next week’s projects. I am also studying some of the elements of ‘plot’, which I will put to use when I rewrite some short stories for contests. Right now it appears daunting, but I feel that everything will fall into place a bit more once I begin to work with it.

Hope you had a joyful holiday season and are excited about this New Year! Thanks for reading.

Nearing the End of the Year

2007-12-22T15:31:00.000-08:00

In a way, I can’t believe I have not blogged all month. However, as noted previously, if I write in my notebook, it doesn’t make it to the computer. Typing it up seems redundant.

I have been wrapping up my NaNo project. I am beginning the crisis and I anticipate finishing it this week. It’s coming in at fewer words than I originally anticipated but I’m not concerned. I’ve made so many changes in the course of writing I’ll probably add at least 10K words in fixing it up. And all of these changes will effectively produce a completely new book.

As this year is winding down, I’m looking at what I have accomplished and where I have fallen down. I’m planning the next year and setting some new goals. I have evaluated several projects, writing and otherwise, and set some of them aside. I’ve learned a lot more about myself, too. There are things I really don’t want to do and some that I can’t realistically expect to do. Some of them cause some sadness, but along with sadness, there is a feeling of relief.

I will try to post some of my thoughts in the next few days. That is my goal for right now. I find that writing out my thoughts helps to clarify them and clarity is a good thing. And of course, getting ideas, goals and other stuff in writing makes them more permanent and memorable. At least for me. Not to mention that accountability factor, even if it’s just being accountable to myself.

Happy Winter and thanks for reading.

The Best Laid Plans ...

2007-12-05T09:35:00.000-08:00

I should know better than to write blog entries in my notebook with the intention of typing them up to post. It just does not happen.

I have recovered from the NaNo frenzy. I also finished the first part of a very important, non-writing, project. That was more stressful than I anticipated, and one of the stressors was the short time frame I had to work in. But it’s done for the time being.

I am still writing on the NaNo project. I have reached what I expect will be the third act. I need to draw all of my threads together, create the knot and then let the characters extricate themselves. I am thinking an attempted kidnapping and then the hero disappears, leaving the heroine to wonder if he’s going to finish the job and prove her innocence in another situation or if she’ll be left to pick up the pieces again.

I had a revelation this morning. I spent many years, six I believe, driving extended distances several days a week. I usually drove early in the morning and then returned later in the evening, all going to and from school. I enjoyed those solitary drives. I listened to my favorite discs, turned up loudly. I didn’t have to be concerned that my tastes and those of my companions were incompatible. If I wanted to sing along with my fave crooners or pretend I was the soprano in the opera, who was going to argue or complain? Or more likely, I would think, plan, and write in my solitary mind. Plots, characters and settings filled my mind and provided more than adequate company.

Now, however, I don’t seem to have that luxury. I’m not driving as far as before. And I am not alone. Not only that, I am not driving my own vehicle. My companion is not an unpleasant person, but I do not have the freedom to choose my own music or to retreat into my thoughts. I’m constrained to being ‘neighborly’.

Sure, solitary travel can get dull and sometimes it can be unsafe, but I miss it. I miss the thinking time. I miss the sunrises and the rising of the moon. I miss my own singing. And I miss driving for its own sake.

Thanks for reading. I’d love to know your thoughts.

Victory Dance

2007-11-29T13:54:00.000-08:00

Short and sweet. I hit the goal. A day early, too.

The novel is not finished yet, but I am planning on working on it throughout December. At the very least, I want to bring it to a close, to write The End on it.

Tomorrow is recoup and plan day. Set new goals for December and give some thought to the coming new year.

Thanks for reading.

"Watch This"

2007-11-27T12:09:00.000-08:00

That’s what I tentatively titled my NaNo novel. Why, I don’t remember. The bare bones idea was conceived years ago when a half-page of notes and this title were filed for future use. Every thing else about it is long gone.

However, the title is most apropos at the moment, as in “Watch This, the novel that keeps reinventing itself”. I’ve been taking a workshop on conflict etc. and as I go through the lessons, I keep re-evaluating this NaNo novel for first one thing and then another. Hero’s motivations, heroine’s motivations. Conflicts, lack of conflicts, building suspense, starting with a bang. Lots of things. And they all tell me that this novel needs a lot of work.

How are these for some examples? I didn’t firmly settle the hero’s occupation until I was over halfway through the book. In addition, there are still a lot of nebulous issues surrounding him. The book is supposed to be a romance but there is precious little of that, except for the lone intimate scene I wrote Sunday. Heck, these two might be next-door neighbors and long time buddies for all of the romance or strife there is between them. And the heroine’s compelling reasons to trust the hero. Nada at the moment. Heck, she doesn’t even need to reveal her secret to him if she doesn’t need to, the way things stand now.

TOC wasn’t this soggy. I can put my finger on any number of conflicts, motivations and what not in that novel. However, I didn’t try to write it in thirty days, either.

I have learned a lot with this book and the workshop. I hope they will make it easier for me to put together a book in the future. I hope they will help me get GT/TT straightened out so perhaps I can finally get that one written, too.

So much to think about. Time’s a wasting. Thanks for reading.

Heading for the Barn

2007-11-26T17:05:00.001-08:00

When the horse gets close to the barn, he starts to run faster, or so goes the ‘popular’ wisdom. This may also apply to my NaNo project. I was behind by at least two days going into the holiday last week but as of mid-afternoon today, I am back on target. If I only write the minimum 1,667 words a day for the remaining four days of this year's NaNoWriMo, I will finish with a few words to spare. And if I am so inclined, I can finish earlier. Sounds good to me.

When I finish this project, I need to put all of my energy into the quilt for my dad. He’s the lucky person who gets the handcrafted Christmas gift this year. I am making a wall hanging patchwork quilt with a fish motif because he’s a fisherman to the core. I know he’ll be surprised.

On the other hand, I haven’t a clue about any other Christmas gifts for anyone else yet. Some years I enjoy picking out fun and unique things for family members, and other years I’d just as soon call off the whole holiday. This year looks like a dry one. Everyone has music or electronic games on their wish lists, and nothing else. Rather unimaginative, if my opinion is desired.

Thanks for reading.

Thanksgiving Weekend

2007-11-24T15:13:00.000-08:00

Finally, the house is returning to normal. Only one ‘guest’ is still here and he’ll be out early in the morning. I enjoy having family visit, but even at half a day for some of them, that’s too long.

All of the kids were here for the big feast, as were the parents-in-law and one of the sisters-in-law. My brother also buzzed up, bearing one of his fantastic salads. Of course, there was more than enough to eat and we’re still grazing on some of the leftovers today.

Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday, although I can’t say why. The food is always great, but not necessarily imaginative. Turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce and tasty pies. Even a suggestion of change provokes mutinous threats, so the menu remains static.

However, this year there will be no “good-bye turkey soup”. I tossed the bones before we’d even finished carving the succulent bird. I know some folks will be disappointed, but it’s more work than I care to put forth this year. Maybe next year.

The NaNo project is still progressing, but I’m not thrilled with it. I’m also still about two days behind schedule and I am running out of material. Well, not exactly, but it’s starting to turn stale. Under other circumstances, I’d write a brief synopsis of the rest of the story and then start back at the top with the rewrites. Work in all of the changes I had previously determined and evaluate how the ending really should proceed. That’s not the plan this month. Write the book, ending included, and then fix it later.

Wish me luck there. And thanks for reading.

Short and Sweet

2007-11-21T09:16:00.000-08:00

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Insomnia isn’t always a bad thing. A hour’s laying in bed staring at the streetlamp flickering off the ceiling fan produced answers I really needed in order to get this NaNo project back on it’s wheels. I got 2,500 words before going back to bed and when I closed up shop a few minutes ago, I had added another 2,020 more words. I am now only 1 day behind. Pant. Pant.

Thanks for reading.

Slogging Through

2007-11-17T14:52:00.000-08:00

I've had a tough week. Things just haven't gone as I planned and I've fallen behind with my NaNo novel. Not so far behind that I'll never catch up, but I had originally planned on being ahead of the game plan by mid-month.

Most of what I have written the past three days has been by hand, too. So I will have to type that up before the end of the month. I'm glad I type a bit faster when I am transcribing than when I am composing. I read somewhere, a couple of weeks back, that most people compose at the rate of 19 words a minute, but they can copy at a much faster pace. I evaluated my own writing, and by golly, I compose at the rate of 19 words a minute. Of course, that also takes into account those far-too-frequent incidents where my computer decides to back-track on me or it switches to a new document. (What gives with that, I ask?) And let's not forget all of the incidents of brain getting ahead of fingers. If it weren't for those things, MAYBE I would type a few more words per minute. Yeah, right.

Back to the open NaNo document.

Thanks for reading!

Mornings Are the Best

2007-11-10T16:20:00.000-08:00

The best time to work on my NaNo project, that is. And I’ll say that weekdays are better than weekends, too. That said, I know now I will need to rearrange my thinking and numbers to accommodate these sorts of problems.

I don’t have a driver during the week, so I have to run errands on the weekends. And it’s far better to do them in the morning before the crowds get too intense. But that also means I either get up even earlier or write in the afternoon. Afternoon writing is less effective and slower. Today I was barely able to choke out the minimum 1,667 words and the love scene I am not working on any more today is probably the absolutely worst one I have ever written.

I am amending my goals as follows: M – F, 2,400 words a day for a total of 12,000 words and S – S 1,000 words a day for a total of 2,000 words. That will keep to my over all goal of 14,000 words a week. I will also not aim for the maximum words on Thanksgiving Day, and will use the last Monday of the month as a make-up day if I am behind. On the other hand, I might get wild and crazy and finish the danged thing that day.

Tomorrow’s game plan is to finish the very mild love scene (the first one of the book), write another scene where Garrett and Maury can develop their relationship and then throw in Garrett’s job as part of the plot monkey wrench. We’ll see how that goes. Wish me luck.

Thanks for reading.

NaNo as Escape

2007-11-08T09:29:00.000-08:00

I enjoy writing, and I am enjoying my NaNo project. However, it is proving to be therapeutic too. This whole week, I have been living with a bunch of soul-sucking, parasitic vultures. Miserable, depressing and expecting me to figure out their problems. Hello, people. I didn’t study that language, I do not intend to learn it, and I never even pretended to understand algebra. I am a self-styled reclusive curmudgeon, so your social life is of no concern to me. I can’t fix any of this, so don’t sit there expecting me to do any of it for you.

When I get into my NaNo mode, they all fade into the background and their problems and attitudes too. Blessed relief. I get into the world of Garrett and Maury and I can actually be thankful for their problems because I know there is a solution and I have control over it. They do not fall into the dreadful dismals every time something goes wrong. They might get frustrated, but they get up off their butts and do something about it. They both try to solve their own problems and do not spend hours moaning and moping. And for Pete’s sake, they don’t sit on their duffs in front of the TV and whine about how hard life is.

I’ve also given future projects some thought. I like where I am going with Maury and Garrett’s story and I’m sure that I can do something with the other contemporary romance I had started years ago. Nevertheless, I feel more at home in the 18th century and now I can see my way to writing some historical romances set in that period. I feel like I have a good grasp of the era so research will be minimal. And I’ll probably stick with French settings, since I’ve done most of my other work there.

I am still ahead of the game with my word count. In addition, I think I have resolved some of my issues with Garrett’s occupation. It’s always good to talk with other people. Sometimes they’ll say something that opens a door I didn’t even realize existed. So far, so good.

Thanks for reading.

Four Days In

2007-11-04T17:28:00.000-08:00

Four days into NaNo and I am still ahead of the program. I planned to write about 2,000 words each day, and so far, I have achieved that goal. I met my goal before lunch on both Thursday and Friday, and had my goal by mid-afternoon Saturday. Today it’s been a bit harder but I’m still on track.

Weekends are going to be problems for me, which is another reason for going over the minimum of 1,667 words a day. Unless I can get going early, very early, the demands of the day will interfere, as will the college student who still has to call three times a day. And then there are the other relatives who know that the best time to get me on the phone is Sunday afternoon. At least that was the story today. However, if I stick with the program the rest of the week, if I don’t make the full quota on Sunday, I’ll still be good to go.

I do think I am over-writing, in a way. I am 8K of the way into this novel, and I have not finished a full 24 hours in the story. Close, but not there yet. Thank goodness, it’s not a matter of quality work. And I am glad I made up an outline of sorts, otherwise I’d probably be floundering by now.

I think I deserve a bit of recreation now. I’ve been stashing magazines; I have three library books and today’s newspaper. I think I’ll do some reading this evening.

Thanks for reading.

The Countdown Ends

2007-10-31T18:03:00.001-07:00

I am in the final stretch of planning for NaNo. It starts tomorrow. I am excited and apprehensive. I really do want to get this book written but on the other hand, I’m facing some big “I Know Nothing” issues. Like pre-trial procedures, plea bargains and stuff like that. I am afraid of creating something that will need substantial revision to make it saleable.

Seriously, this is generating flashbacks of that very first novel so long ago. A prime example of lack of research and writing what I don’t know. A travesty of the art. Rewriting that crock of “stuff” was out of the question then, to say nothing of now. What I don’t want to do is repeat those same mistakes. I need some quick, down-and-dirty legal proceedings information. (Yep, this is a call for help. WEB sites would be most appreciated. And I’ll try to get a bit more specific in the next day or so, after I do some research myself. Then I’ll have a clue.)

Thanks for reading and wish me luck!

A Puzzlement

2007-10-20T11:42:00.000-07:00

I’ve been participating in an on-line Plotting workshop and I am amazed at how much I actually write by the seat of my pants. Here I sit, trying to work through the instructor’s exercises, step by step, and my mind is screaming, “Just write the danged story, will ya!” I don’t want to break everything down to plot, sub-plot, motive, goal, whatever. I want to write it, get it on paper and the go back and fix those little details. I want to let the story flow and see where it takes me.

Which is where the surprise comes in because I had it all figured out at one time. I had this story plotted in my mind. I thought it would be the ideal project for both this workshop and for NaNo. The workshop to fine-tune and actually put the outline on paper and NaNo to write it, once I had all of the details straight. And it doesn’t seem to be happening.

I’ve tried cold writing, with only an idea and some characters, and that hasn’t been very successful for me at this time. TOC had a rough outline and there are spots in it that need work as well as a large quantity of rewriting. I know I am not going to produce a perfect story first rattle out of the box, but I was hoping for something that at least went on the paper swiftly without a lot of ‘thinking’, something with most of the kinks worked out and a ‘clear’ path laid out. However, that does not seem to be what is happening. Back to the drawing board.

Thanks for reading.

A Slow Crawl

2007-10-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

Progress report. More notes made for revisions to TOC. I’m beginning to wonder WHEN I should start on the revision process, but I also wonder if starting that will force all the other projects on the back burner, again. GT is still sidelined. I’m procrastinating on the half-completed short story. I need to get it finished for a couple of reasons, the primary one being it’s half way done and it ties in with another project.

Our series of writing lessons has not proven to be wildly successful. I didn’t think they would be, but I was hoping for SOME interest. We’ve finished the section on short stories and are now putting together one on self-editing and revision Even after working with my notes for years, I still learn new things about this revision process and it excites me.

However, the recent lack of visible participation within this group depresses me. I enjoy helping others improve. I feel great when they succeed. But right now, I feel like I am wasting my time. No one is doing anything more than paying lip service to writing. I know, I said it before. I need to work on my own stuff.

I made a small amount of headway with the plot and characters for the story I’m planning to write for NaNoWriMo. Yep, I have committed myself to 50K words in November. I’m planning to write one of the romances I tentatively plotted several years ago, before I TOC really took off. I need to do some serious thinking about my male lead, his faulty life view and his goals. They need to be stronger so that I can create tension and conflicts right away. I suppose one of the first things I should do is give him a stronger name. The original one just isn’t gutsy enough.

That’s all for tonight. Thanks for reading.

Update and Rant

2007-09-28T15:28:00.000-07:00

I am so neglectful. It’s been well over a month since I posted anything here. Bad, bad me.I’ve been bored and frustrated of late with a number of the aspects of my writing (non) life, too.

I help moderate a writing board and have done so for many years. And I generally enjoy it. However, recently, I have grown bored with it. I want more interaction with people who are actually writing. I do not feel challenged by the members of this group. My deadlines are non-existent. I have no reason to write and next to no advanced interface. Oh, I know. I do not really NEED any of this but I feel like I have a lead weight around my neck and it is dragging me down. I was enthusiastic about the lessons I was writing for this group, but now I feel like I’m writing them for the wall … again. Like, why do I bother? The sort of thing I need is to do the writing. How can I improve me if I’m not doing anything? I need/want to find a community that’s ‘vibrant” and enthusiastic, not a bunch of dead-weight wannabees. I don’t want to feel the need to ‘play nicely” because of others’ fragile egos. And I really don’t want to hear “Nice work” about my stuff when I know it has problems. What I want to hear is things like “You have no plot … What does your protag want … too much telling”. Concrete evaluations are wanted, for pete’s sake.

Pardon the rant. I had to get a bit of that off my mind.

So what is on my desk right now, and what do I hope to accomplish in the next month? I am working on a short story, one that has sat on my desk, so to speak, for several years. It is still in rough draft form, but I am planning to begin the revision next week. I am planning to take an online course on Plotting. I will comment on that later. I am still debating whether to participate in this year’s NaNoWriMo. I’ve never done that, although I’ve wanted to try for several years. The advantage I have this year is that I have a story with a plot essentially ready to go. Nothing that requires research either. We’ll have to see on that one. “GT” is on hold, again. I don’t know whether it’s the characters, plot, or what, but it’s an albatross right now. I’m trying to figure that one out. “TOC” is still on the shelf, although I should plan to start those rewrites soon. No ideas at on the potential sequel.

I’ll be back again, much sooner. I promise.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for your patience.

Ideal Situations

2007-08-05T19:07:00.000-07:00

I did not read the ‘instructions’ very closely yesterday when I cracked open my new writing book and glanced at the first chapter. I couldn’t say what the chapter was all about, but I can say with certainty that it had an exercise or two at the end of it. And I glanced at the exercise. I think it asked for my thoughts on the ideal writing situation – paper, pen, equipment, surroundings. All that.

I do not think I have an ideal situation, or perhaps even an ideal collection of equipment. Ideal reeks of perfections as well as completion. If I begin to visualize my ideal writing surroundings, I create an environment of peace and serenity and then I get the idea that a nap might be just the ticket since everything is so perfect. I won’t get any writing done that way.

Shall we say, instead, that I have preferences? I aim for a sense of quiet or at least ‘ignorance’, as in ‘ignore me, please’. Socializing and writing are, as individual activities, mutually exclusive, but the world and its goings-around are a writer’s stock in trade and cannot be wisely discounted. A balance of these elements is my preference.

My preferred mediums for writing are at once varied and more specific. Paper. Clean. Size is optional because it can be folded. Lines are fine but so id unlined paper. I used to write with only sharpened pencils, but after a while, pencil lead smears and I’d spend far too much time sharpening pencils and not working. Pens are the tool of choice now. Gel pens or liquid ink. Color is optional. Smooth flow is a must.

Sometimes I prefer to write directly to my computer while at others I would rather go the pen and paper route. Currently I have no preferences. I don’t even have a preference between the computer on my desk and my notebook computer. Flash drives and other electronic media transfer methods mean I can work on one project from more than one location.

I suppose the final analysis here is that I do not need the ideal set-up to write. If I am not writing, it is not the fault of the equipment or my surroundings. It is something else. It is me. I am a writer. I need to be writing.

Thanks for reading my blog.

Rude Awakening

2007-07-05T08:16:00.000-07:00

This month’s writing challenge has not started off well. In order to make 50K words by the end of the month, I need to write approximately 1,620 a day. And so far, I’m FAR short of that daily goal, by almost 4K words. Will I be able to get caught up? I’m not sure.

How did I get so far behind this early in the game? Lots of reasons. Some of them are my own fault entirely. Shall we say lack of self-discipline? However, it’s not my fault DH has been at home since last Friday. And its been a l-o-n-g holiday weekend. People here. People there. People who all want/need … something. Something only I can provide.

OK, so while we’re passing around the dish of blame, may I blame my favorite fabric store for having a sale on the same day I have an available driver? Or the antics of the silly mockingbird who has issues with the cat? Or that I am far closer to the end of a good book than I am to the beginning?

Today, yes, today is another day. In a few hours, I will be sitting in a dentist waiting room. If I am diligent, it can translate into at least meeting today’s word count goal.

Thanks for reading.

Getting To Know You

2007-06-20T14:30:00.000-07:00

I am a character ‘planner’. No, I don’t sit down and say to myself, “Eleyne, you need to create a character.” It’s not quite that clinical. My most recent novel began with a setting and some given characters. The protagonist was loosely based on a minor character from a previous work that grew on me. Of course, by the time he made it through TOC, little remained of the original character to tie him to that shelf-sitter.

My new WIP (TT/GT) began with a situation that included a main character/narrator. Playing around with the character in some preliminary sketches gave me a very rough idea about him. Further considerations added two an expanded ‘player roster’, with some of the characters pulled and redressed from TOC and some older short stories and character sketches. Songs, situations and some real-life characters suggested further actors.

Now I need to know more about each of these folks, particularly the ones I have definite positions for. And so I turn to that old stand-by – the Character Profile.

I know some people do not use this tool although I’ll wager they have something like it playing in their minds before they really get started on a new project. However, as I fill out a cursory profile for each of my larger characters, I see how beneficial these profiles can be. Background questions provide potential for motivations as well as a basis for attitudes. Relationship questions are also fodder for motivation as well as a picture of the character’s support system (or lack) and a further peak into his mental and emotional status. These issues are also potential points of conflict.

As I go through this exercise, I am seeing my characters more closely. No, these won’t tell me everything about how they will act in a given situation but they could give me clues on how to tailor the situation to force him into an uncomfortable position. And since these profiles are not set in stone, should I discover my initial view was inaccurate, I can adjust them.

At this point, these profiles are a jumping off point, as well as a place to park pertinent info such as physical characteristics. (I can’t go changing eye or hair color in the middle of the book, now can I?) They’re also suggestion tools to cause me to think about specifics of each person -- the sort of things we don’t always ‘see’ on first glance and certainly not just the stuff one puts in a ‘personal essay’ for college. It’s a guideline for “Getting to Know You.”

Thanks for reading my blog

False Starts and Other Useful Things

2007-06-13T14:50:00.000-07:00

I’ve been puttering around with my writing, not really going forward and not really making any decisions either. Or so it seems.

I did get Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. Finally. After all these years of hearing others rave about how great this little book is. I hadn’t planned to read it immediately as I have another project I need to finish, but it’s a new book and Yours Truly can’t resist at least dipping into a new book.

I’m well beyond dipping at this point.

I finished reading the chapter entitled “False Starts” and the relevance of this chapter, at least in relation to my most recent project, is striking. I understand her concept of finding out who my characters are by eliminating all of my previous suppositions as I get to know them through working/writing about them. As she says:

“When you write about your characters, we want to know all about their leaves and colors and growth. But we also want to know who they are when stripped of the surface show. So if you want to get to know your characters, you have to hang out with them long enough to see beyond all of the things they aren’t.” (p. 82-83)

I thought I know who my characters were, but as I wrote, I found that was not true. There were still depths that I had not plumbed. And this after perhaps 20 years of “knowing” some of them.

I had planned on rewrites from the beginning, but as I think and make notes about the rewrites, I realize all of the work still left to do on this project. It is far from finished, even though the first draft is completed.

Thanks for reading.

The List and I

2007-05-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

I love lists. I came to grips with my scatterbrainedness and forgetfulness long ago with the aid of lists. So that makes me a compulsive list maker. Lists of what I want to do, need to do, want to read, need to buy. Lists of stuff to write about, to think about, to put on the ephemeral web page. Lists of things to do and appointments to make and keep. Chores to avoid accomplish. Lists to keep track of my lists.

That may be a bit over the top, but I did at one time have a list of where I kept stuff. That worked fine as long as I was the one putting it away after use. No one else seemed to comprehend the need to follow the plan.

I digress.

Making all of these lists does not mean I’m a slave to the list. Far from it. They’re primarily memory triggers or reminders of the really important stuff that could generate problems if neglected or forgotten, such as balancing the checkbook or paying those evil bills. I’m not depressed if not every item on the daily list is crossed of by the end of the day. Even in my seriously compressed world, stuff happens. I try to accomplish the most important things such as setting out dinner and exercising early in the day so I can draw lines through some things right away. But the rest of the stuff can happen or not as time and physical energy allow. Sometimes self-discipline or lack thereof plays a part too.

I think what bothers me more about the list issue is reading past lists and seeing the same things over and over, day in and day out. Or reviewing the monthly or quarterly goal list and seeing how little I have accomplished in the past month. Sure, I’ve finished the first draft of the book I was working on and a couple of other things but the library is still partially boxed up, the garage is messier now than it was when the list was written, and none of the sheers are done. I haven’t written those short stories I’ve been basting around for far too long, so they won’t make the deadline for the WD contest either. I can blame only some of this on the ‘disease’ but some of it comes down to my own inertia and lack of self-discipline. (OK, and also the people I was relying on for some help have wussed out on me.)

Yet, I keep making these lists or re-reading the old ones. They still serve their purpose, to keep meandering mind from going off on too many tangents or losing itself entirely. I am still responsible for seven other bodies in this house, not to mention myself. I like being able to see the lines drawn through projects because it motivates me to keep moving and, perhaps, spend a few less minutes playing Patience on a computer, which cheats.

Thank for reading!

Decisions, Decisions

2007-05-11T14:49:00.000-07:00

Last night or rather very early this morning, I woke to a decision. I didn’t go to bed expecting a decision, as I didn’t consider I had a problem when I went to sleep. But apparently my subconscious considered my indecision on the final ending of my WIP a problem. So, it made a decision for me.

Therefore, I am collecting all of the notes, the notebooks and the bits and pieces of the final two or three chapters and putting them in the file cabinet. I am giving the whole thing a few months’ rest. I will return to it sometime after July. I had planned to do this as soon as I had actually written the last chapters, but I think this is a better option. Those last chapters are essentially written, just not into the book. Rewriting them and then rewriting again just seems pointless right now. Not only that, there are things that need to be addressed throughout the book and I just do not want to address them right now.

In the interim, I am going to read some good books, work on some articles and draft my next book. I have three book ideas in mind, two of which have fairly complete plots and casts or characters already. They’d be the easiest to write but I am tending toward the third one right now. All I have on this one are a half-dozen characters of sorts and a couple of half-baked situation ideas. This would truly be writing by the seat of my pants, a situation with which I am not well acquainted. I’ll just have to see what turns up come July.

Thanks for reading.

My Novel as a Balloon

2007-04-26T11:22:00.000-07:00

My Novel. Picture this. A large balloon. Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade large. It is only partially inflated, so it lays there, billows in some places, and flattens in others. But that is not its only problem. This balloon is a Swiss cheese. Full of holes, some large and some smaller. It needs help.

This balloon needs more than air to fill it and raise it from its hole in the wastelands. Not just any air will do here, either. It requires the air of strong characters with bold goals, compelling motivations and aggressive attitudes. They can’t be wimpy because they have to raise this piece of cheese to the heights and take each and every reader on a unique ride. They cannot melt into utter cheesy-ness when the heat it raised.

Those holes must also be filled. These are not the sort of holes endemic to Swiss cheese. No, these holes are gaps, missing ingredients or temporary substitutions. They violate the integrity of the story. Some of them require more writing, many of them require less. Some will vanish with compression, for a good cheese also requires pressure and compression.

Right now, I’m seeing a chunk of cheesiness, unexciting, stretched out and pedestrian. Tiresome, even. It still needs a lot of work. Nevertheless, the vision rises before me, and it is a fine, aged cheese, strong with a pungent and memorable bite. The perfect accompaniment to a glass of fine, red wine.

Thanks for reading my blog.

Cowbirds, en garde!

2007-04-20T18:13:00.000-07:00

A pair of mockingbirds has staked out their territory. It comprises a hedge and brick half-wall in front of the Student Union as well as the roof of the building itself. And they’re not about to share it with any other bird.

Cowbirds are rather presumptuous birds and mockingbirds, for all of their romantic connotations as well as their remarkable song, are stubborn and territorial. Mockingbirds frown upon trespassing. They’ll aggressively defend their property.

The mockingbird pair is engaged in what most birds do in the spring, courting. The female, perched on a corner of the building, nonchalantly observes her suitor as he flies from the top of the hedge to the brick wall, to a car’s mirror and back to the brick wall. At each stop, he emits a few whistles and chirps, and flicks his tail feathers up and down. The female drops down to the top of the half-wall and flicks her tail, encouraging her male to renew his performance.

On the ground, a shiny black and brown cowbird struts across the sidewalk and onto the lawn in front of the Student Union. A pair of his mates swoop from a neighboring roof to that of the mockingbirds’ territory. They squawk their raucous call of challenge to the mockingbirds.

The courtship display temporarily suspended, both smaller birds dive into action. The female swoops down on the solitary walker with an angry whistle. The cowbird takes flight with the female on his tail feathers. The two wheel around in the sky for a moment before the cowbird makes a run for a lamppost in the parking lot.

The male mockingbird menaces the other two cowbirds on the rooftop. They fly up and a few feet away from him and he hops towards them. A few flaps of their wings and the cowbirds move, followed by the mockingbird. Flap, flap. Hop, hop. Scolding chirps and whistles, scratchy squawks in response. The female rejoins her mate and the pair succeed in forcing the cowbirds to move on to other pastures.

The territorial threat is over. The hedge and half-wall are back in the exclusive possession of the mockingbirds. The courtship ritual is resumed.

Thanks for reading my blog!

I Amaze Even Myself Somedays

2007-04-19T17:32:00.000-07:00

Amazing. I just created goals and motivations for the three primary characters in my next book. All while making dinner. Who says I can’t multi-task anymore? I am so rocking.

This next book is going to be my summer writing challenge book. A complete draft in a month. I started this July Write-A-Thon on a writing board which I moderate a few years ago because I couldn’t participate in NaNoWriMo. College professors have this habit of assigning major papers which are due right around Thanksgiving. So, I set up my own month-long challenge. This will be the third year. I’m already looking forward to it and now I have a bit more to go on.

Thanks for reading!

Writing and Other Odds and Ends

2007-04-18T18:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday … what did I do yesterday? I haven’t a clue, almost. I tried to get all the non-vacuumable stuff off the floor and then got stuck on the floor myself. Ever since I came down with this spring cold, my right leg has been on strike. It refuses to do anything I ask of it, including bear my weight so I can get off the floor. But that was a fact of which I was unaware until I needed to get up off the floor. It took a bit of creative thinking before I was no longer sweeping up dust bunnies with my bum.

So, yesterday was a lost cause. If I did anything else, I don’t remember.

Today has been a shade better. That head cold appears to be vacating the premises and I’m feeling more like myself. No more head full of fluff. And my leg cooperated a bit more today also. Still no house cleaning, but I did fold laundry.

I also got some writing done. I could have done more, but once I got home from the college, I had lost the momentum. So I did a bit more research and planned the next two chapters. I’m not expecting these two to take quite as long to write, as I have written parts of them before, from different points of view. So, most of this will be a revisit of old material. I just need to lead into it. And therein lays the rub.

I want to create the idea of ‘ominous shark music’ (think Jaws) with a few actions and a speech. I know, that doesn’t sound particularly threatening, but its all part of the noose tightening around my characters, and I need to make it appear that way, too. However, as I was making notes, I found the justification for the cowardly actions of my protagonist at this point. It’s all there and it fits perfectly with his character and his motivations.

I also finished reading Neil Gaiman’s "Neverwhere". I thoroughly enjoyed the book and I will be reading it again soon. I want to savor, again, the manner in which he created his imagery and the way he’s managed to make his London Below seem just a shade off center. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I’m moderately familiar with a number of the places used as settings in the book, and I have a real fascination for the Tube, too.

I have high hopes for tomorrow’s work. Finish Chapter 3 and get well into chapter 4. Do some research for an article. Some housework. Call my mother. I’m glad head colds only last about 7 days.

Zach

2007-04-09T17:29:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamt about Zach.

This is remarkable because I rarely remember dreaming and even more rarely remember the content of my dreams. But last night, I dreamt about Zach.

I met Zach several years ago. I was a sales associate at a fabric and craft store when Zach and his family came in one evening. Zach was about four years old at the time and a handful according to his mother. I’d say precocious would be a better description.

Besides being a very active and inquisitive child, Zach had a number of congenital deformities. A cleft palate made speech difficult for him and for anyone who didn’t take time to try to understand him. He also had at least one deformed arm and hand. However, none of his physical problems seemed to slow him down. On the contrary, he demonstrated even at this young age that he was an over-comer.

Whenever he and his mother and baby brother came in, he acted amazed that I’d remember his name and I would ask him about his favorite toys or cartoons. He’d follow me around the store and he’d tell me about what he did at school, what new thing his brother could do, or what sort of surgery he was going to undergo next. He liked to talk, sometimes to his mother’s dismay. She’d apologize for him, and I’d tell her that I really enjoyed his company.

Over the five years I worked there, I’d see Zach about two or three times a year. And every time I saw him, he’d tell me about how he was getting better, and he was. I don’t know how many surgical procedures he underwent, but the last time I saw him, his speech was very clear and he was excited about his soccer team.

I haven’t seen my charming little friend for over a year now. I don’t miss most of the aspects of that job, but I miss my customers, and Zach is one I miss especially. He is one special guy.

An Afternoon at Home

2007-04-03T13:34:00.001-07:00

I took my work outside on my back porch this afternoon. I love my pretty, comfortable home, but today the chirping of the birds was just too enticing. I took my chair, notebook and an iced tea out into the sun. A western breeze periodically threatened to blow harder but in the end it contended itself with sending gusts of cooler air through the now-fully leafed-out trees. The grass is lush to the point of needing a haircut and the sun played peek-a-boo amidst the fluffy clouds. The dog sprawled on the cement until a truck’s rumble was heard on the other side of the fence. Then she would bound across the yard, barking until the truck motored past. Then she flopped back in her sun-warmed spot to sleep some more. A wasp hovered in the open doorway for a few moments, then decided (wisely) against going in and darted off and over the fence.

I made a few noted in my notebook about the sorts of shrubs and flowers I want in my little yard and where I wish to put them. Perhaps I will get someone to drive me to the plant store this weekend. I think I would like a few rosebushes and I have 8 pots begging to be filled with sun-worshipping flowers. I think I would like geraniums in the two largest pots, and portulacas in some of the strawberry pots. The other pots are still a mystery, waiting to be solved at the greenhouse. I’ll just have to see what takes my fancy.

Thanks for reading.

THE BLACK HOLE

2007-03-22T16:20:00.000-07:00

I wrote this "memorial" a few months ago. It still amazes me that the "stuff" got to this condition. OMG!

THE BLACK HOLE

Everyone has a “Black Hole”. However, most people don’t refer to it by this name. They call it a garage, a storage shed and those who are uber-neatniks confine their tiny bits of stuff to the junk drawer. But I have a Black Hole, an ever-expanding swallow-it-all place to stash the flotsam and jetsam of the household.

To the uninitiated, the Black Hole is the master bathroom. It has two vanities with sinks, a shower, a garden tub and enough floor space to park a Volkswagen Bug. This would be luxurious, plain and simple except for some unknown reason there is next to no insulation in this room. In the summer, the master bath is a sauna and in the winter one turns blue just exiting the shower, never mind getting dried off before ice forms. Add to this the fact that the water heater can’t heat enough water to fill the Shrek-size tub and the supposedly sumptuous bathroom is rendered next to useless.

So, to what use does one put all of this space? An easy answer especially when one has no garage or storage shed. It becomes the “Black Hole”. Currently, the Black Hole contains a double dresser, topped with a bookcase for storing linens, stuffed animals, the bug, rock and shell collections, clothes, canning jars, a set of dishes, fabric and garden tools. One of the vanities, the one with the non-functional sink, serves as the cupboard for the toolbox and the power tools as well as an aquarium, boxes of photos, outdoor games and a dumbbell set. Several bottles of water, the emergency supply, are also resident under the sink. Boxes full of scrapbook stuff, books that don’t fit on the regular book shelves and more clothes occupy the space in front of this vanity.

The garden tub, that fiberglass basin for bathing, is the true sink hole of the room. Almost unusable as a tub, it has been, in shifts, a chick incubator, a rabbit pen and a cat hidey-hole. Since the animals are all gone now, it is used to store discards awaiting transport to the resale shop, flattened boxes, the belonging left behind by the child who has gone off to college and the other one who’s in the Army. Bolts of fabric are stacked at one end and on the other are more boxes of books and who-knows-what-else.

I am moving now. The Black Hole will no longer be a fixture in my life. I am not disappointed. The new house has real linen closets, a pantry, closets and a garage. Is it too much to expect, now, that the junk will vanish and some real shelves will appear in the garage for the tools? If not, I am envisioning a greatly expanded version of the old Black Hole. Ever hear of the adage “Stuff expands to fill the available space?” I think mine has a zip drive too.

Progress Report

2007-03-17T15:21:00.000-07:00

I haven’t made near the progress I wanted to make by this point in the year. Even after scaling back my goals, I’m still lagging behind. Some of it is not my fault. I have no control over things like sickness, car repairs, other people’s lack of planning and such. Nor do I really have much control over my own fatigue factor, beyond just not doing much of anything. Some chores must be done and there are still things I must do for those who can’t do them themselves.

However, I am still responsible for using the rest of my time wisely, and there I am failing. I can find more ways to waste time on the Internet than I can find reasons to write. How often so I really need to check my mail, when most of the mail comes into my box in the early morning? How many times should I check a blog when I know the owner only makes one post a day? How many widgets do I need to search for – widgets I probably won’t use anyway?

I have made reasonable strides handwriting my WIP in a notebook when I am away from the computer. I’ve refrained from transcribing the work into my larger document for the moment because I think I am afraid of losing even that small momentum. I don’t know why. Until I write The End, I still have work to do.

I need to clear the clutter from my mind and my desk. Get back to writing first and goofing later. There’s always time for that in the evening, and if there isn’t, well, it wasn’t all that important anyway. My goal, again, is to finish the first draft by the end of June. But March’s goal is to finish the chapter I am working on, and get at least halfway through the next one. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 5K words. An easy goal if I put pen to paper and just write.

Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your comments.