Friday, November 18th, 2011  As part of the entire roof debacle, I had all the carpet replaced in the upstairs of the house. In order to carpet the closets, everything had to come up off the floor in each one.
Inside my closet, I found this brown, paper grocery bag.
I’ve no idea what’s inside it. The top’s turned down, and stapled, and I haven’t opened it. I’m having too much fun trying to decide what’s inside to peek right now.
(Incidentally, it’s not my style to store something like this. It sounds like a certain parent I know… On the other hand, I may have learned it from her. But, still, I’m usually good at labeling. I can’t believe I’m at fault.)
Here’s Your Prompt:
Tell me what’s in the bag.
Where did it come from? Who was it given to? What happens if the wrong person looks inside?
Is it a gift? A memory stored away out of sight? An embarrassing impulse buy?
Don’t just make a guess….write the background, then the story.
Tuesday, November 15th, 2011 The Fire and Flood Company brought my furniture back today!
I’ve found the boxes with the laptop docking station, keyboard and large-screen monitor, as well as a few other desk items: speakers, telephone, electric pencil sharpener.
::: EXCITED!! :::
I can’t wait to get back to working in my space. Working at the kitchen table since September has been a real bummer. Distracting, too. I’m hoping that getting back to my own space will be freeing, creatively.
This is what the front half of my office looks like right now:
The thing I’m amazed at: the last box I looked at was numbered “70.”
Really?
And I packed 12 additional boxes from my doll cabinet. (I wouldn’t let them take those away for fear of something getting damaged or lost.)
So that means I’ve got at least 82 boxes of junk in just two rooms of my house.
I’m hoping that a great many of these boxes are books…because if they’re not, I’ve got a ton of stuff that has no place being here.
I’ve already told the Husband of Awesome™ that I anticipate that at least a third (I hope more) of what’s in these boxes is not going back on the shelves.
I believe this means parting with a great many books, and possibly some (published) manuscripts that have been lying around. I’ve been advised to scan them and toss the originals.
 Here’s a picture of my double closets. Note the filing cabinet in one. I have a bookshelf in the other closet. I love the option of putting furniture in closets. It makes the space so much more useable.
Notice the non-brown boxes, devoid of pink labels? Those are my own. They’re numbered, too, but not in any scheme I can figure out. And, now that I’m looking, they don’t appear to be counted in the 70 (82).
Now, there’s a mystery I’m going to have to solve. The Secret Math Junkie™ inside of me is starting to wonder: How many total boxes? How many brown ones? How many are the 3 cubic feet version? How many are the smaller? How many contain books? How many contain paper? Etc.
It might take me a few weeks to get through it all, but in the end, you’ll have your report. 🙂
In the meantime, I find myself already with a plethora of packing supplies on hand. Anyone need any bubble wrap?
Friday, November 11th, 2011  In honor of our country’s Veterans, I’m hosting a Veteran’s Day Writing Prompt today.
Many thanks to all the men and women who’ve served in the US Armed Forces. I’m grateful that our country has a strong military, for both the freedoms it’s continued to safeguard and how safe I feel knowing it’s there to protect us.
Thank you to the men and women who continue to serve.
A quick digression:
I wrote a little about my family’s strong military background and some info about Veteran’s Day in my post last year, if you’re interested.
Last year’s post has a pic of my great-Uncle Walter. That’s him in the background of the picture to the right. He and my great-Uncle Frank are pictured in a downtown Baltimore bar, having a drink before they both return to duty after the Christmas holiday.
(Wasn’t Frank a handsome fellow? He looks like an old-time movie star to me. I’m sure the ladies swooned when they saw him coming.)
Now, on to the prompt…
Here’s Your Prompt:
- Write a diary entry for a single day in the timeline of any “great war.” Include specific details, as well as personal reactions.
- Write a thank you note to a veteran (or current member) of the armed forces.
- Take a few moments and brainstorm some words that come to you when you think about the military. Write a poem using one or more of the thoughts that occurred to you.
- Make a list of words that define “the perfect soldier.” Create a character sketch of this hero.
- Based on the prompt above, choose the one trait you think every soldier should have. Now, create a character sketch of a soldier who doesn’t have that trait, or blatantly disregards it. (Does that make him an unfit soldier? An anti-hero? A villain?)
- Imagine the military of the future. What gadgets do they have? What skills do they need?
- Write a story about U.S. Military Occupation on the moon. Why are we there? What’s happened? What would happen if weren’t there?
- What if there were no militias the world over? Would the world be a better place, or worse?
Thursday, November 10th, 2011  Remember this, way back in the beginning of September?
My office (and the rest of the damaged house) is starting to look liveable again.
Fresh paint has been applied, and (even though insurance didn’t cover it*) we opted to put in new carpet. I am just too paranoid about mold.
The carpet folks laid most of the carpet yesterday–a charcoal grey, smooth piled loveliness–and will be back this morning to finish up. I can’t wait!
But our furniture and things — which were boxed up and taken away by the Fire and Flood Company, won’t be back until early next week. That’s when the fun begins:
I’m on a mission to “edit out” a third to a half of the items that were in my office originally. It’s true that the company carefully wrapped and boxed my stuff, making it appear more bulky. But the sheer number of boxes they removed from my office astounded me.
And while many of them came from the double closets (yeah, that’s one thing I really like about my office space) and didn’t clutter up the room, even with the doors closed behind me as I wrote, I often felt the stuff “mentally” clutter my mind.
It’s hard to write in that environment!
Things I need to clear out:
- some abandoned crafty items I’ll probably never get back to
- tear sheets (and in some instances) entire copies of newspapers with my stories printed in them
- empty binders I’ve been hoarding to put all my genealogy paperwork in
- boxes of photos from high school, containing pics of (some) people whose names I can’t remember
- probably some other stuff I’ll be surprised to find when I open up the boxes!
The big issue for me, since I’m:
- a writer
- a genealogy buff, and,
- a former journalist with hundreds (a thousand or more?) clips
… I’ve got a terrible paper problem, especially since I so often want to keep things for “posterity.”
But the paper is starting to weigh me down.
At a minimum, I’m toying with scanning all the old manuscripts and tossing the paper. Ditto on the newspaper clips.
But what I really need is a paper-flow system to get things under control. Most days, I’ve got more paper funneling in than out, and it’s taking a toll: hence the three boxes of collected papers I need to weed through before I even get to the closet items.
How do you handle the influx of paper? What do you do with critiqued papers and clips and tear sheets that may or may not be looked at again? Where do you draw the line on what to keep?
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* The insurance company was AWESOME, but they didn’t pay for new carpet. Understandable, really, since it was able to be dried. But they’ve done more for us regarding everything else. I have no complaints, and have actually been impressed with their service.
Friday, November 4th, 2011  Today is National Candy Day.
You’d think someone would have the good sense to combine it with Halloween, when it comes right on the heels of it, wouldn’t you?
No worries, though, I plan to celebrate with my absolute favorite candy/drink combination:
York Peppermint Patty and an ICE COLD bottle of Diet Coke. There’s nothing better than that cool minty sensation burning down the back of your throat in a huge swallow of icy cola.
Yum.
But not before breakfast. That would be sacrilege. Perhaps for a mid-morning snack…
(According to the National Confectioner’s Association, there are no less than 15 “National Chocolate” something or other days and one International Chocolate Day, as well as 35 “National” candy days total in the yearly calendar, including National Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day, only a few days away on November 7. However, their calendar doesn’t mention National Candy Day at all…nor does it mention that, apparently, June is National Candy month.)
Before you get started today, I recommend channeling your inner child and eat all the candy you find around the house. If you don’t have any leftover, I’ll bet you could catch a good sale. You remember the immortal words of Bart Simpson, right?
“It’s okay. There’s no sugar in Pixie sticks.”
Here’s Your Prompt:
- Invent a new candy! Put on your Wonka hat and create the sugary treat missing the world over. Make a list of all the ingredients that have to go in (don’t forget those spoonfuls of love and pinches of mystery.) Describe it, draw it, and then write the advertising copy.
- Do this slowly: Close your eyes and lift your favorite candy to your nose. What does it smell like? Can you smell the individual ingredients that make it up? What do you think of when you smell them? (Does vanilla remind you of sex? Does cinnamon recall the pungent odor of a burning fire or a cup of hot chocolate?)
What is the texture of the candy on your fingertips? What does that remind you of. Lastly, take a bite. Take note of the texture, the blending flavors on your tongue. How much did you salivate? Write down all these sensations, thoughts, feelings.
- Think of a character you are writing about. What is his or her favorite candy? Why? How does knowing this change your story? Could this candy play a key role in the plot of the story?
- What kind of candy best describes your personality? Write about it.
- Write a haiku or other poem about candy. The heart of the poem can be about anything: an ode to your favorite candy, or a poem of disgust for what you think is the worse; that candy should be banned, how candy once saved your life (or nearly destroyed it), that candy should be served before dinner… Anything.
Wednesday, November 2nd, 2011  Wherein I whine just a little bit after having done a stupid thing…
Writing fiction is hard.
And starting over from scratch is even harder, I’ve found.
Except for some free writing in class the last few weeks, I haven’t written anything on my work in progress: not since I lost 25 pages of the manuscript.
I’ve been in a terrible funk. And hopeful.
Hope is a terrible thing sometimes…and crippling.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve tried to recreate my lost work, but the words just aren’t flowing.
In the back of my mind, I’ve constantly been thinking:
- It’ll turn up.
- It’s got my name on it. Some kind soul will drop me an email to let me know they found it.
- It’s not really lost, it’s misplaced…
- I just haven’t looked hard enough for it yet.
And as long as there’s been a smidgeon of hope in my mind that the dratted pages will turn up, I haven’t been able to write a word…because why should I re-write these chapters when I know they’ll appear at some point?
But the fact is, it hasn’t turned up. No one’s called me about it. And I’ve looked high and low, and called a lot of places and dropped in on several more (some more than once) and so I know it’s it’s worse than misplaced:
It’s lost and I’m never getting it back.
(Okay, I said the words. Maybe, if I say them enough times, I’ll believe it.)
Yeah. I’ve not quite given up hope. But I’ve got to fake it, or I won’t be able to move on.
It’s not like this writing should be hard. I know what happens. I know where the plot turns. I know about that secret reveal in Chapter 15.
And this version will likely be better since I’ve already written it once. It’ll be the second draft, for 25 pages, halfway through the novel.
I’ve written a few hundred words between yesterday and today. Not great progress, but it’s more than I’ve done in a month.
Have you ever been paralyzed by hope? How do get past it?
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“My Lost Hope” image by Freida. Not used by permission, since I’ve been unable to contact the artist. See more of Freida’s work at RedBubble. Freida, if you see this, please drop me a line so we can talk about the use of your gorgeous painting. Thx!
Monday, October 31st, 2011
Happy Halloween!
Hope everyone has a safe and tasty holiday!
Friday, October 28th, 2011  Leaving the restaurant last night after my monthly writer’s group meeting, I was struck by a hint of sadness. It’s always like that: similar minds coming together for a few hours, talking shop, encouraging each other, witnessing some really great writing.
Last night we laughed a lot. And I’m still smiling thinking of our conversations.
And then we had to go home. The End.
How sad.
We stepped outside into utter darkness, a fierce wind blowing, the promise of rain in the air…letting us know that it wasn’t just the evening ending. The year is fast on its way to being over, too.
So, today we’re talking about endings…arguably the most important part of a story. Does it have to tie up all the loose ends? Not necessarily. I like to think the characters I love have more to aspire to then the end of the book. The ending does have to solve the major problem, though: I can’t have all that build-up without some kind of resolution (even if it’s one I don’t like). That just feels like hard work without any reward.
When I get to the end of a book, I want to feel like I’ve just eaten chocolate.
Here’s Your Prompt:
Write an ending.
Have you read a book that you didn’t like the ending of? Re-write it. Have you seen any movies that had you mesmerized…until the last twenty minutes? Write the rant you’ve been discussing around the water cooler. Once you’ve gotten it all out, write a better ending.
Write about something that ended before you expected to.
Write the ending of your own life. Write three endings to your life.
When you’re done writing, write “THE END” at the bottom of the page. How did that make you feel?
Friday, October 21st, 2011
This was the scene I faced the other day, driving home from work. Fog, fog, everywhere!
Strangely, it was just as thick on the highway as it was on the back roads. Usually, the highway is clear no matter how foggy it is elsewhere, I presume from all the traffic…?
It was a slow commute, and of course my mind wandered to writing about fog…
I’ve done a lot of that myself. I find it fascinating, eerie, comforting, mysterious…. You name it. A lot depends on my mood. It’s a great backdrop for a story, or poetry. In grade school I wrote scads of really bad poetry (some, which didn’t even rhyme!) about fog, and thoughts and feelings lost in it, like ghosts… I’ll spare you the rest.
Here’s Your Prompt:
Write about fog. It doesn’t matter if you write about a memorable experience, or a scene with a character you’ve created (or even with a famous character someone else created), or a poem, etc.
Also: the fog doesn’t have to be physical. Just use the idea of fog in your writing.
You could write about foggy memories, or the fog of inebriation, or a drug-induced fog, or an emotional onslaught, etc. Doesn’t matter. You choose.
Here are some foggy prompts to get you started:
- There’s a little child // Running round this house // And he never leaves // He will never leave // And the fog comes up from the sewers // And glows in the dark – (Song Lyrics by Radiohead)
- Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face. – Robert Browning
- The fog is thick as pea soup. You could cut it with a knife.
- Cause the fog’s getting thicker // And the world’s spinning fast // The chaos is building // It’s going to last – (Song Lyrics by Maroon 5)
- …but a strange young girl hung around the neck of the hostess is about as welcome as a fog at a garden party. – Etiquette, 1922 by Emily Post. Chapter 17: Balls and Dances
- She carries the evening in her chest // And knows that she must wither away // She lays her head in his lap //
And asks for a last kiss – (Song Lyrics for the Song “Nebel” by Rammstein – Nebel, translated to English = “fog”)
- [Indications of Danger.] Alarm. Alarum, larum [archaic], alarm bell, tocsin, alerte [F.], beat of drum, sound of trumpet, note of alarm, hue and cry, fiery cross; signal of distress; flag at -half-mast, – half-staff; blue lights; war cry, war whoop; warning [See Warning]; fog signal, fog bell, fog horn, siren; yellow flag; danger signal; red light, red flag; fire bell, fire alarm, still alarm; burglar alarm; watchman’s rattle, police whistle. – (Roget’s Thesaurus, 1922)
- Some say no evil thing that walks by night, in fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o’er true virginity. – John Milton
- “A Scotch fog will wet an Englishman through.” – Common saying
- October 22nd to November 21st used to be referred to in the French Republican calendar as Brumaire, or, fog-month.
And here is some information about how fog is formed from USA Today.
Wednesday, October 19th, 2011  Would you steal a few moments of time to write by spending extra time in the bathroom at work?
Someone on one of the many newsletters/mailing lists I read advocates writing for ten or fifteen minutes (whilst sitting on the throne) at work – once or twice a day – as a means to find more time to work on your current manuscript.
I seriously doubt I could do this. Not only am I too busy at work to spend more time than necessary in the ladies room, but I have a feeling that the public nature of a four-stall room provides a less than conducive atmosphere for creativity.
Besides, I’m just not certain I want to be pretending to use the toilet, while attempting to write, while someone in the stall immediately next to me is actually using the toilet.
And can you imagine this conversation, after publishing a blockbuster novel that sells a bazillion copies:
Reporter: Just how did you come up with this fabulous idea?
Author: Well, I was sitting on the crapper when the idea hit me…
I’ve written before about finding small bits of time during the day in which to write.
I’ve found that I can meet my (self-imposed) word goal, even on busy days, by taking advantage of these lulls and wracking up fifty or one hundred, or even several hundred words at a time.
(It took me a while to get over the need for a large block of time in the day to get some writing in, but once past that mind set, I find I’m able to accomplish much more.)
I’m not usually picky about the aesthetics of where I choose to write, but I’m drawing the line at the restroom at work.
How about you? Could you carry a notebook (or netbook!) into the lavatory and work on your masterpiece?
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