Monday, July 5th, 2010 I’m flattered that Annette Bowman from the blog The Stars are Not Made of Fire was interested enough to ask me a few questions about me, my writing process, and advice for beginners.
I find Annette to be a fascinating person who likes to live in her pajamas — since they’re the most comfortable clothes in the world. (Of course!) I heartily agree, and if I could, I’d spend my days in pajamas just like Annette. Alas, the working world frowns on this.
PJs not withstanding, Annette’s blog is an interesting read. Visit just for that, even if you’re not interested in hearing me blather on.
On the other hand, if you’d like to read the interview, please visit Annette’s blog for the scoop.
Sunday, July 4th, 2010  Happy Independence Day!
As I mentioned Friday, this is one of my favorite holidays. Not only do I get to gorge on hot dogs and corn on the cob, I’m reminded — as I try to remember daily — what freedoms I have as an American.
I’ve been watching quite a bit of the history channel this weekend, learning things about American History they never taught me in high school. Things kids should know. Really.
This is the first year in a long time – perhaps a decade – when I’m at home. I have no plans…except to eat those hot dogs and prop my feet up. Maybe watch a bit more of the history channel. (I’m looking forward to staying away from the crowds.)
Wishing you a fantastic day, whether you’re celebrating or not!
As always, I thank all the men and women serving in the armed forces currently, and in the past.
Friday, July 2nd, 2010 Hurray! July 4th is nearly upon us.
I love Independence Day: the parades, the flags, picnics and cook-outs and barbecues. I love that its the birthday of my country. I love Old Glory and the Star Spangled Banner and everything that means to me for my freedoms. As far as I’m concerned, it’s one of the BEST holidays I celebrate.
But that’s too easy a topic…
Here’s Your Prompt: Choose your least favorite holiday and talk about what it means to experience it. Don’t cop out: don’t say, “I hate Christmas, so I stay home and avoid everyone.”
Write about a holiday you are forced to endure either through familial, religious, or some other pressure. Tell about a particularly horrible experience. What were your feelings? Describe through the senses everything that is WRONG about this holiday.
Do you hate Arbor Day because you were forced, as a boy scout, to plant 100 trees with your bare hands? Explain how much your hands were hurt and cramped at the end of the day. Describe the odor of the turned soil and the leaves and how it makes your stomach turn. Don’t leave out that to this day you can’t stand the sight of elms…
And, do as I say, not as I do: choose a really gut-wrenching holiday. Brownie points if you share in the comments below.
Thursday, July 1st, 2010 What do you do with all your old notes?
Last night was my monthly meet up with my critique group and the topic of critique paperwork came up. The majority of our group does as I do:
- accepts the paper-based copy of the critique
- goes through it page by page as we edit and update our WIPs
- files it away for future refernce
One brave soul in our group updates his work in progress and then tosses all the critiques he received!
I’m not the only one who was sitting at the table stunned and amazed. Why would you ever throw out notes? What if you needed to refer to them later?
I’m in the process of editing a novel. To the right of me, on my desk, are all the copies of the critiques I’ve received from my current group, and some from fellow on-line writers. (Those I could have kept electronically, but when I refer to one document and am typing on another, I like to have a hard copy.)
As I’m working, I realize that I’ve worked through some of these crits already…but advice I wasn’t willing to take a few weeks or months ago is starting to look pretty good right now. What if I’d tossed these papers when I’d done my initial re-write?
I know of one author who painstakingly logs into a spreadsheet each comment from every critique she receives for a story. I’m not sure if she tosses out the critiques when she’s done — though having gone that route she certainly could. But to me, that just seems like too much work. I’d rather spend my time writing something new.
So: what’s your process? What do you do with your critiques once you’ve evaluated them…this inquiring writer wants to know.
Sunday, June 27th, 2010 We’ve been reading a lot of “Frog and Toad” books around the house, lately. They’re juvenile, but I’m really enjoying them. The author, Arnold Lobel, has an understated wit that sometimes flies over the head of youngsters, but is quite humorous.
Right now we’re reading “Frog and Toad are Friends.” (I HIGHLy recommend it. It’s a Caldecott Honor book, too, if you need more than my endorsement to pick it up.)
In the book is a short story called, “The Story,” in which Toad’s friend Frog is sick in bed and he asks Toad to tell him a story while he is resting.
Toad’s game for this, but he isn’t sure where to begin. So, for inspiration, he sits down and thinks about it for a while. He can’t come up with anything he likes, so he goes out on the porch to pace while he thinks. Unfortunately, this proves as fruitless as sitting and thinking. So, he comes back inside and stands on his head.
“Why are you standing on your head,” asked Frog.
“I hope that if I stand on my head, it will help me to think of a story,” said Toad.
Toad stood on his head for a very long time. But he could not think of a story to tell Frog.
Next, Toad tries water as a stimulant.
“Why are you pouring water over your head?” asked Frog.
“I hope that if I pour water over my head, it will help me to think of a story,” said Toad.
Toad poured many glasses of water over his head. But he could not think of a story to tell Frog.
Then, Toad banged his head against the wall.
“Why are you banging your head against the wall?” asked Frog.
“I hope that if I band my head against the wall hard enough, it will help me to think of a story,” said Toad.
This scene just makes me laugh.
There are days, like Toad, when I feel like banging my head against the wall when approaching a particular scene. I usually make myself a little note in brackets [write fight scene here] and then move on to the small stuff. I come back to the troublesome prose later.
Poor Toad’s problem was that he wanted a “good” idea for a story. My opinion: he should have run with whatever he came up with first. A bad idea is still an idea. It can be used up, embellished upon, and discarded (if necessary) later. Any idea is one you can work with. Dressing it up usually leads to others.
If you’re stuck: try writing about the first thing that comes into your brain. Use it as a thoroughfare to your next writing destination. You don’t need to keep it forever. Edit it out at the next pass. But use the idea to stimulate others.
In my opinion, there’s no such thing as a bad idea. There may be better ones, but how do you know until you’ve written it?
Saturday, June 26th, 2010  The Bad Ass Fairies Volume 3: In All Their Glory received a 4.25 star review from Night Owl Reviews!
Of the 21 stories in the anthology, two were singled out for attention: John L. French’s and mine! Here’s that nugget, along with a mention for editor Danielle Ackley-McPhail:
Particularly enjoyable were the John L. French tale that alternates between worlds yet explores the horrors of the drug trade upon two disparate cultures, the Kelly Harmon tale that explores another use for the selkie fur and the editor’s exploration of the Wild Hunt.
Read the entire review here.
Friday, June 25th, 2010  I got angry this week.
That’s not unusual….but this week I got really, stinking, spitting, crying angry when I heard the freaking, rotten news about…
…well, I can’t get into it here. (For my co-workers who read this blog: nope, it wasn’t about Thursday.)
How did I release the stress?
I did something I haven’t done in a long time. I put my “angry song” on the car stereo and played it over and over and over again about a million times on my way to work…at about a million decibels loud.
I’d forgotten how cathartic it is to literally SCREAM away the hurtful feelings while belting out the lyrics.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m still spitting angry about the situation…but that initial hot-faced, head-pounding feeling is gone. I’m on a low simmer. Worse, there’s nothing I can do about the situation because I’m not in control. Well…I could air my feelings to the offending party, but that’s only going to cause hurt feelings all the way around and still not change anything… I’m stuck.
(Those of you who know me very well know that I can’t let this lie for too long. Otherwise, it’s just going to fester. I need to get it out before I explode. Timing, of course, is everything…)
Here’s Your Prompt: Write a scene where the main character hears something that made him the angriest he’s ever been. (This character could be you, btw.) What brought on the anger…betrayal? A lie? An accident? How about a revealing, devastating truth?
Show your character’s anger, don’t tell it. Relate how your character initially felt upon getting angry. Did the anger strike all at once? Or, did it bloom from something less? What physical symptoms did you character feel? Pounding head? Hot face? Burning eyes? Chest pain?
Write it so your reader can feel it, too.
Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010  I found this wasp’s nest under my eaves on Sunday. I was stunned by its size…completely amazed at how fast this thing got there.
Suddenly, I was facing a very unpleasant experience. How was I going to get this thing down without a zillion stings? (And believe me, I know what a zillion wasp stings feel like–ask me later.)
The Husband of Awesome™ and I dithered over what to do. We had some wasp and hornet spray, but using it meant getting within 20 feet of the nest, according to the can. Was that far enough away?
We could try shooting from the upstairs window. Very awkward.
Not only that, we’d used this spray on tiny nests, beginners, if you will. Would it work on something this big?
We considered knocking the nest off with a broom, again from the upstairs window. This would mean shoving the entire broom out the window and swatting at the nest with little leverage. And what if we knocked that nest into the window?
With one good swipe, we might be able to drop both nest and broom to the deck below and slam the window against angry wasps. Could we do it?
Are you seeing how this relates to writing, and more specifically, writer’s block?
For me, getting through writer’s block has always been about knowing where I want the story to end up…and just maneuvering to get there. I don’t have to know all the details to keep the story flowing and the words coming.
Here was an interesting twist: I had my ending (So long, wasp’s nest!) but I was blocked by the consequences of what my actions could cause. Paralyzed by indecision. There were so many possibilities, I didn’t know which was best or most appropriate. Have you encountered this problem with your writing?
Here’s what we did about the wasps:
- We waited until 11 p.m. (hoping the cooler air would make the wasps more sluggish) and used the spray from the upstairs window.
- This resulted in some VERY ANGRY wasps. (Do you know the sound of a zillion wasps rumbling within the confines of their own nest? Frightening. And louder than you might imagine.) They poured out of the nest like gasoline. It was all we could do to shut the window.
- We learned that 5:00 in the morning is cooler than 11:00 p.m. (Duh.) and decided to give the spray a chance from the deck below.
- This resulted in some less-than-stellar results. The spray mostly dissipated into a cloud about 10 feet from the can as the propellant lacked the oomph to reach the eaves. The narrow stream of insecticide that reached the wasps only served to rally them. Coolness was obviously not an issue.
- We abandoned the broom idea, even after examining all the brooms we own and choosing the heavy-duty push broom from the garage.
- I really wanted to try it, but the Husband of Awesome™ didn’t relish the idea of spending the morning in the ER with me…
And that’s when he got a brilliant idea. Why not use the hose?
And there was the answer to the writing dilemma…when multiple possibilities loom, try them all. (I attempted all ideas, even the “bad” one. After all, the broom had been considered, approved, chosen, and carried to the window…) What’s the cost of writing it all to see which works best…some words tried and discarded? Time lost doesn’t count: it’s a wash when compared to what may be lost in indecision.
Working through all the possibilities gets the creative juices flowing. In the midst of apparent defeat, a new idea may be, as ours was, formulated, considered, and executed.
The next time I’m faced with similar writing circumstances, I’m going to write each possibility to see which one fits the situation the best. I hope that doing so leads me to that final possibility: the one I hadn’t considered at first (or even thought of) but is the right one to conclude the situation.
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| So long, wasps! |
Friday, June 18th, 2010  When the Husband of Awesome™ and I were in Italy on our honeymoon, we walked across the Bridge of Sighs in Venice. Each of us, without knowing what the other planned, took a deep breath and sighed loudly as we crossed. We broke into laughter then, and I’m tickled every time I think about it.
Built in 1602, the bridge connects the city dungeons with the interrogation rooms in the Doge’s (The Duke’s) Palace. It’s made of white limestone, is fully enclosed, and the windows are barred with stone so that prisoners could not escape by jumping into the river below.
This last fact is suspect, as the bridge was popularized by Lord Byron only in the 19th century (he named it). And, he quite probably spread the rumor that it’s name evolved from the fact that as condemned prisoners crossed the bridge to their fate, they sighed at the beauty of Venice–the last thing they saw before they were executed.
In reality, according to Wikipedia, “the days of inquisitions and summary executions were over by the time the bridge was built and the cells under the palace roof were occupied mostly by small-time criminals.”
Still, I find it a beautiful piece of architecture. I’m glad I had the opportunity to cross it.
Rumor has it that lovers will be granted everlasting love if they kiss on a gondola at sunset under the bridge. (I’ve no idea what it means if two young lovers cross the bridge, sigh simultaneously, then guffaw in shared comedic bliss. But I’m certain those floating lovers have got nothing on us.)
Here’s your prompt: think of your favorite landmark or monument and discover if there are any local legends or false-histories about it. If you enjoy world building, create your own monument or landmark. Write its history, and its legends.
Consider: Why was it built? Does it honor one person, or many? Or, does it honor an event? What is the significance to the local population? Or, what if the local population has been conquered and nearly eradicated or absorbed…what kind of meaning is endowed to it by the conquerors? Did they try to tear it down? How long has it existed?
Once you have your landmark and legend, write a story or a scene or a vignette based on the rumor and the history.
Wednesday, June 16th, 2010  I’m too tired to write.
It’s been a craptastic™ week so far with me getting up way to early and going to bed far later than is actually good for me, and spending a lot of time on the road (over 500 miles in the last few days). I’m just a tad stressed.
My brain is fried. (I can feel it taking way longer than it should for me to hammer this out…)
Fiction, tonight, is not going to happen.
That’s a hard statement for me to type. I try to write fiction every day. Daily writing is a good method for keeping in the groove. If I let a few days pass without writing — for any reason — I sometimes have a hard time pushing past the inertia to get the words to flow again.
I keep a little spreadsheet (okay, it’s kind of a big spreadsheet) where I record the statistics of my writing. I despise typing in a big fat ZERO on any day of the week (because, let’s face it, once I do, it populates through about a dozen columns of tallies and percentages and MOCKS me). It’s a fabulous motivational tool, but the flip side, of course, is the letdown. I don’t like to let myself down.
But I knew heading into this week that fatigue was going to play a major role. Making my (self-imposed) word-count minimums would be a real struggle. After all, it’s hard to write when your brain won’t function. I’ve done it before…but it takes so much longer than when my mind is fresh.
But this week I decided to give myself a break and take a few days off, just until I can get a good night sleep, and get the mileage under control. I bought a handful of new books yesterday afternoon, and resolved to read them all. (I’ve read them all, but one, already.) And I’ve made a good dent in the knitted sock project I started. Tonight, I’m going to finish the last book, and (I hope) get to bed at a decent hour.
Tomorrow, I think, I’ll be ready to write. I caught myself daydreaming about my WIP on the long trek home from work tonight. Usually, nothing busts through the fatigue when I get like this. Maybe there’s something to be said for ignoring the taunting voice in my head.
I still have to write ZEROS on my spreadsheet…but I’ll annotate them to remind myself that time off can be just as valuable as pushing through the fatigue.
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