1237

1237. That's how many words I have written on the novel I've taken over. Right now I'm mulling over what it is I want to write next, but I definitely have ideas about backstory and setting. The problem is plot. Some of the plot is going to remain the same as the original, but some will change. I don't know if I have enough ideas to fill in the holes, but maybe I need to start jotting the ideas I already have into some kind of outline.

Speaking of jotting, I've already filled over a dozen pages out this notebook with notes and actual words (well over the 1237 I mentioned above, but lots got chopped out and/or revised).

(The other stuff in the photo is for scale.)

I've found that a notebook this size is a lot easier to tote around than a full-sized notebook, and I can pull out pages after I've typed them up (which I find to be a very satisfying ritual while writing).

Not pictured: my Kindle, where I put the updated pages and earlier versions to refer to while I am writing the next section. I love writing by hand but have to admit that having an electronic version handy is more useful for referring back to previous work, as you may be able to tell from this sample:


So that is why I didn't manage to update here--I was actually writing!

How do I write? Let me count the ways... 2

Wow--if it is going to take me 3 weeks to make a new entry, this blog is not going to be very active. Not that it had been very active...

When I last posted, I was starting to have that writing "itch". Part of it was the need to siphon some of the thoughts out of my head; part of it was the need to feel like I could still put words on paper in a coherent manner; but part of it was a novel Kee had written and put in a drawer, lo, these many years ago. Her characters started poking me in the brain last fall, and they had been stewing in there ever since. So I put on my big girl panties and asked her if she would mind if I took a stab at revising her novel. She was generous to say yes, and that went into the stewpot, too.

Like I said, the stewpot bubbled for months before I had time to turn to do anything about it. I still have a bunch of grading to do, but now the stewpot is starting to boil over, and I am afraid that if I don't get in there and work on it, it will boil away. (Not the best metaphor ever, but work with me here.) Yesterday I actually got words on paper--the train is the best place to write, I must say--and I kind of got a high off it. Yes, I scratched things through and moved things around--it wasn't a Romantic outporing of inspiration, it was hard work, but that hard work was *so* satisfying.

Now I am trying to decide if I want to keep writing longhand straight through, or if I should type up what I have each day before starting on the next bit, or if I should wait for a chapter break, etc. So many decisions! I'm just afraid that some premature typing would derail me. And there is the answer--as long as I can keep the plot of what has already happened in my head, I'll just keep writing. If I reach a sticking point or can't remember what I've already said, I'll go back and type it up to refresh my memory and give me a chance to think ahead.

How do I write? Let me count the ways... 1

I've been dragging around a paper journal for quite a while now, but I mainly use it for 2 things--complaining about myself and making lists.

I like making lists, and making them makes me feel in control, so that is not actually a problem. But on the other hand, if I put more on my lists than I can reasonably accomplish, I beat myself up about the lack of accomplishment rather than try to figure out what is a reasonable amount to accomplish in one day and how to schedule the other items on other days.

I bought a book, Getting Things Done by David Allen, that was recommended to me to help with organization, but a lot of it is aimed at managers, so I haven't actually finished it yet. One thing that was somewhat helpful, though, was his argument that unfinished tasks--whether big or small--prey on our minds, even when we are not consciously thinking about them; to counter this, he suggests making a master to-do list as a way of siphoning off this unconscious worrying. I have to admit that this has actually worked as promised: I don't feel like I am flying apart all the time. But I am not good about going back and reviewing the list on a regular basis to see what must or can be fitted into my upcoming schedule.

The other problem with the master list is that I don't know where I should put it. I mean that literally--I have been keeping it in the back of my paper journal, but since I am not actually reviewing it or updating it on a regular basis, there is really no need for me to be dragging around those extra pages. Also, whenever I fill a journal, I have to copy those pages into the new one or cut them out and tape them in. I tried putting the master list on index cards in a filing box, but I have not opened the box even once since I spent a whole afternoon arranging it.

I like it when I can approach things in a systematic way, I just have not been able to work out a good system yet, and that is what drives me crazy. I really like the feeling of writing things out by hand, which is one of the main reasons why I drag around a paper journal, and I also want to have something that is readily available for my note- and list-making. But searching back through my notes is made that much harder by having everything jumbled together on paper. I am too lazy to go back and type up my journal, and frankly, most of it is moaning, so I don't really want to type up most of it.

And now I seem to have lost control of any argument I might have been trying to make.

***

Obviously, this blog has been defunct for a *very* long time now. I don't think either of us has done much writing to speak of, or none that we are ready to talk about yet, so I am going to highjack this space for my own purposes, which are mainly to get back in the habit of expository writing. So don't expect much entertainment value.

So you think you can write

Hell yeah, I think I can write.

Sorry...just got jazzed up watching So You Think You Can Dance. I have always wanted to move like that. I love watching those shows that push people to their limits. It motivates you. So much so that I actually was doing push ups during the commercials. Granted, I can only do like 3 at a time cause all the blood rushes to my face and I try to hyperventilate (do you think that's normal for a push up?). But I try.

The same with my writing. I read because it motivates me to write. There are a couple of reasons I can think of why this happens. The first is that when I read something *really* bad, I get pissed knowing that if something that bad got published then my stuff has a chance, too. Not entirely logical, but motivational nonetheless.

The second reason I find I reading motivational is for the jumpstart. Escaping into someone else's writing is like priming my mind to escape into the world I created in my own writing. I realize I need that transition from reality into my writing bubble. So I take it.

But time is limited. Somedays I don't have time to read. That's when everyone suffers. I almost have a physical need to read, or maybe it's the need for the mental escape. I feel twitchy, anxious, short-tempered, and all-around bitchy when I can't read even a few lines of a new book. That's when pulling out the re-reads takes the edge off. Those are the few books that I liked so much I bought (versus the well-used library card), and read over and over. Just reading a scene from one of those brings the rest of the story to mind and lets me escape into it.

Someday I would love to be the author of someone's go-to re-read book.

How cool would that be.

Back up a sec... (correction to previous post)

While walking to physical therapy this morning, it occurred to me that part of what I wrote in my last post might be misconstrued. Just to be clear, I wasn't trying to say that someone has to be a reader in my genre to "get" what I am writing. Hell, I couldn't even say what genre I am writing in beyond "fantasy". And that encompasses a wide range of sub-genres, just like romance does.

One reason I went back and made changes was because I obviously hadn't done a good job of conveying the mood or tone I had in mind, not because of Kee's personal expectations. If I had done my job correctly, I would have been able to pull her in *despite* her expectations. So obviously I flubbed that somehow.

For now, I am going to go back to my earliest inclinations--to just write what is going on--for the first draft, and then to consciously go back and look for places where more info is needed. I don't think I could sustain that through an entire manuscript, and maybe I'll get better at doing both at the same time as I go, but I think I can manage it scene by scene. It's someplace to start, at least.

Second step, tell it it's the story you're dreaming of

It's been almost a month since the last time I had a chunk to send my seestor to look at. Truly, I am the tortoise of writers.

But I managed to send her another chunk earlier this week, and she's got back to me with her comments, and now I am digesting. Here's what I have come up with:

To be perfectly honest, I did feel a twinge of disappointment initially when I saw that Kee hadn't responded by going into raptures over my glorious prose. ;-) Hey, I am only human and a newbie to boot. Perhaps one day I'll be a hard-bitten writer who doesn't give a crap (actually, I hope not), but not today. But I got over that in about 5 minutes. What's the point in asking for someone's honest opinion if you are not going to listen to it?

I've read before, usually on a more experienced writer's site, that negative reviews are actually the most useful, because they give you another perspective on your work. I've also read that getting feedback from people who don't read in your genre can also be useful, for basically the same reason. I'm not saying that Kee trashed my work, but she was able to point out what wasn't working for her and why.

I found some of the reasons interesting, because she seemed to have a different expectation of the tone than I do. I think part of that goes back to the genre thing I mentioned. She sees that my protagonist is a werewolf, and that leads her, as someone who doesn't read fantasy, to expect certain things. There's nothing wrong with that. Everyone has their own ideas about what belongs to which genre. Unfortunately, since this is a work in progress, and one that hasn't been mapped out in advance, I couldn't provide her with a handy blurb to help her set her expectations, the way I could for a finished work I was trying to pitch to an agent or that was being marketed for sale. I have a friend who asked me to read her first 3 chapters recently, and she was able to provide just such a blurb, and it was extremely helpful to me, because then I could tell her if I thought she had hit her target with the actual writing. Maybe that is something I should work on for my manuscript, too, if only for my own use.

In a recent post, I reminded myself "not to be afraid of 'telling'." But I am afraid I had veered too far in the other direction in my more recent writing. And a big chunk of what I had added--she said with a blush--was shamelessly ripped off from my own family. That is *not* the kind of writing I want to perpetrate on the world.

*chop chop chop*

Finally--and the most heinous sin in my personal catalog of writers' sins--I found my last paragraph wallowing in melodrama. Oh. Hell. No.

*chop, douse with gasoline, set on fire, cauterize previous passage*

I know Kee was worried about hurting my feelings or making me mad, but I can do those things to myself with my own writing, thank you very much. But sometimes I need someone to scrape the rose tinting off my glasses so I can see what is right in front of me.

So for that, I tip my hat to you, Kee.

WTF Blogger...

I have had two comments for Nee that were eaten by Blogger. On the first one, I later heard scuttle that all of Blogger went phooie and mine was not the only to disappear. The second one could have been operator error while attempting to post via cell phone.

Nevertheless, I couldn't remember specifics so that I could repost.

I'm off to work but had one bit of wisdom to share. I keep repeating this to myself everyday. "If you're not making progress every day, you will never get to the future you want."

It's been making me actually work on the manuscript I carry with me instead of leaving it in my purse for the next day.

Put-putting along

My output of "official" writing (my Word doc) slowed to a standstill once I hit 1200 words, but I am still jotting notes and individual sentences in my journal for the next bit of this chapter, so I am not dissatisfied with my progress at the moment.

I spent most of yesterday working on a business web site. Our internet service contract includes one free web site, so I am going to get a site for my editing business up and running right away. It will take me a little longer to get the text written for a German-language translation site, but then I would like to have one site that directs to the two options--editing or translating. So that is where my creative efforts are going at the moment, but I hope to be able to switch gears this afternoon and get back to fiction writing.

I changed the background of our blog (duh!), but am not sure I like it. Any feedback, dear readers/seestors?

Surfing instead of writing *sigh*

I read a great post over at The Intern just now about how we as writers shouldn't compare ourselves to other writers. Here's the take-away quote (emphasis added):

You write what you write. You are what you are. And, no matter how anxious you may be to have everybody like you, you’re not going to get there by scrambling to become what you think the world wants. You will never be young enough/old enough/smart enough/dumb enough to please everybody, so you should really just do what you love and let the world take care of itself.

I think that is something we can all keep in mind at those times when we start to lose our sense of fabulousness. Perhaps you really really really want to be published, but it is not going to happen by second-guessing what "the reader" wants. There is no such thing as THE reader, only readers: some like monkey-thrillers, some like Star Trek slash, some like cozy murder mysteries, but somewhere out there will be one or more who like what you write.

First step, take it out and treat it like a story

After more revising--always with the revising!--I sent off the first 500 words or so to Kee, and she gave me some very useful feedback. What I took away from it was a reminder not to be afraid of "telling". There has to be some narration along with all the doing and saying, or my readers are going to be left to their own devices in constructing the story. Then when they get more information later, it may clash with the stories they have in their heads, and that's where I'll lose them.

Then Kee sent me another email with a line-by-line critique, and now I feel like a giant jackass because I hadn't even realized I had mixed up 2 C-names in only 500 words. That might explain some of the confusion, DUH! I think I'll change my C-Cheryl to S-Sheryl, just to keep it from happening again. And did I mention D'OH!?

Ditto Kee

It's funny that Kee posted a link to a blog entry from Janet Reid, because I was mentally preparing a post on that very subject. So here goes...

For me, the crux of the quote by Ira Glass was this:

[Y]our taste is why your work disappoints you.

Recently, I have found myself in a rather unattractive wallowing phase, which is one reason why I haven't been posting here. I don't want to write about it, and no one wants to read about it, so why bother. But if I think back on it, I recognize that I was playing the self-blame game, and the main thing I was accusing myself of was a lack of creativity. "If only I were creative enough, I would be able to make this writing thing work."

That, to use the words of one of my characters, is total bullshit.

When I look at what was really going on, I was regularly going back and considering new scenarios, new contexts, new angles for my story, i.e., I was being creative. It's just that the new scenarios, etc., were not actually to my taste.

In my last couple of posts, I talked about things "clicking" and "falling into place", and they did, *for that particular version of the story*, but that turned out to be a version that was also not to my taste. But that doesn't mean that the effort was totally in vain. It was a good exercise in plotting.

I will admit that it was disappointing to have expended so much mental effort and then not be able to use the fruits of it, but then I remembered that I am the person who will rip out rows and rows of crochet or cross-stitch to fix a mistake, not because it would be glaringly obvious to other people, but because I would know it was there and would be dissatisfied.

I just have to keep in mind that, ultimately, my writing has to please me.

And I am happy to say that once I used my creativity--which I definitely have, thank you very much--and murdered a few of my darlings--that is to say, tossed out some firmly held ideas I still had about who was the main character of my story, etc.--I have come up with a beginning that I am excited about it. I don't have an ending yet, but I am eager to just follow and see where it takes me, and none of my beginnings so far has managed to do that.

*Note to Kee: I will probably be sending it along to you soon, short though it may be.

Hoping I bridge the gap soon

You have to read the April 29 entry. I totally believe this is true.

www.jetreidliterary.blogspot.com

Clickety Clack

"...understanding was coming so fast it seemed to have bypassed thought."

-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

That seems to be the point I have reached in my story: the big plot is falling into place, and there is so much "clicking" with various details that it is starting to sound like a zipper. I am thinking a lot of these things out in my journal/daily pages, so I am going to have to go back and look them all up to put them in one document for handy reference once the last few details--like how this sucker is going to end!--have decided to make themselves known to me.

I can only assume that my subconscious mind is busily working away at this, aided and assisted by my daydreams while jogging, showering, and dishwashing. Once I have a good idea of where this thing is going, I'll be ready to buckle down and get some writing in--by which I mean the text of the actual story, not the 3-5 pages I am already writing in my journal each day by hand. It just seems that even when I am not working, the day goes by so fast. Before I know it, Hannah is home and needs my assistance with homework, which is something I am totally dedicated to doing (see my other blog for more info, if you need it). I think once I have reached that point, though, my daily pages will shrink down to my to-do list and more small details for my story, and I can follow them up with some writing on the story itself. Sort of like my daily exercise routine: I use the balance, aerobics, and Fit Plus games on Wii Fit to warm up for jogging (I'm up to 20 minutes = 4 km a day!). I'll use my journal to warm up for writing.

I know it sounds a little naive to talk about writing I plan to do in the future (as opposed to reporting on writing I am already accomplishing), but I have noticed that if I start to think about and plan for something in advance, it is much easier to do when I get to that point. John even made fun of me for demanding that he tell me about his heretofore vague travel plans for last weekend, since it was only for a day trip. But if he wants me--and more importantly, Hannah--to go along and be a pleasant companion, I need some time to adjust my mental picture of what my weekend is going to look like. Then I can ride along and be interested and enjoy myself. Same thing with writing (and working in general): I can't concentrate on writing without knowing where I am going, but once I've got that info, I can throw myself into writing and know I am going to enjoy it.

And that's how life goes...

I thought it was weird that dearest seestor just posted when I have been thinking about her so much. Those mental vibes don't let an ocean stand in their way!

While I have been twitchy over my very first story idea, I was plumb knocked out by a partial story that I had given up on a while back. It was in the "collecting dust" pile because I just couldn't go any further. It just stopped. Dead End. Then I started thinking about it after a convo with seestor about stories within stories. And BOOM the whole rest of the story came spilling out. I've got plot galore, baby. I know how it ends, I know why it ends. I am so happy.

So needless to say. I have been furiously working on getting major points into some kind of scene blocking so that I can realistically work on it in the small chunks of time I have available.

We'll see how it goes and keep it posted.

Shaking things up

If by "shaking" you mean "stirring very slowly without letting anything slosh up the sides".

But seriously, I have added writing daily pages to my morning routine, after coffee and CNN with John but before Wii Plus, and I find I am coming to depend on it. Not only as a place to jot down my daily to-do list (which then lets me forget about it long enough to think about other things), but also as a place in which to journal some of the things that I would rather not whine about on my regular blog and to "think out loud" about my work in progress.

I am between jobs at the moment, so I am trying to ensure that I spend more time on my writing, now that I have some extra time to spend, but it is sometimes hard switching gears. Free writing each morning seems to be helping with prising the words out of my brain, but there are still plot issues and a few other things that are unresolved and that I am spending lots of my "writing" time researching or thinking about, sometimes with the help of my journal--which, by the way, looks like this:



I splurged on it for myself, and John has been totally coveting it.

My writing time hasn't been in vain, though. I have had a lot of ideas that just went "click", and I knew they were exactly right for my story. Of course, I also had an idea that when followed to its logical conclusion made my story suddenly take a left turn and become a (political) thriller, which--no. That's just not going to happen.

Well, Hannah just walked in the door, so I must sign off for now.

Twitchy...

The librarians at the local branch I go to always look at me funny when I go on another reading bender. The multiple visits in a short time, the bulging bag I drag to the counter, the long time spent reading cover blurbs, the dirty looks I give the other patrons who don't know proper library etiquette and therefore don't *gasp* speak in hushed tones. Those are all the signs that I've gone off the deep end again. Of course, I have help at the holidays when I have time off and a wonderful seestor who buys me books for Christmas!

So the reading begins and then the ideas flow and then I get twitchy to write. Then the doubt about my writing ability follows. Then another trip to the library and more twitches.

Alas the librarians don't know any of this. They just continue to look at me funny and wonder when they will see me again. Tomorrow, next week, or next month.

Wise words for more than writers

Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone
can start from now and make a brand new ending.

- Carl Bard

Not writing, per se

But I did just finish a translation that turned out to be 132 pages long. At no more than 3-4 pages per day, tops, that's a lot of translating. What a relief to be done.

Now I get to buckle down on a merely 60-page translation. I would joke that it will be a walk in the park in comparison, but it is reporting on medical breakthroughs by researchers at the university here. I am learning A LOT about hepatitis C, and that's just the first person being featured out of about 10. *sigh* Still, it's better to keep busy.

Plus there's another short web text to edit, but I can do that when I get back from Switzerland!

Ch-ch-changes

At this rate, I’m never going to get anything finished, much less published.

I had gotten some writing in, and I was generally pleased with it, although not completely married to it. I realized I had neglected to factor in X detail, which meant I had to change Y. After altering this and adding that, I realized I wasn’t getting past the first thousand words. Between the fear that I had hit the turd-polishing stage and the realization that there was still a lot I didn’t know about my characters, my will to write took a nose-dive.

The story is still there, percolating under the surface, but it is more the slow blub-blub of a tar pit, when I think I need it to be more of a fast boil. Hmmm…

Am translating. Am pretty sure a paragraph should not be a page and a half long. Must break up.

The end.

Workin' workin' workin'

...and then we die some more!

Have been too busy editing to do any writing recently, but I am almost done with that (1 doc on my computer and 1 doc coming in a few days), and then I will be back to translating. Which hopefully means that I will also be back to writing. More thinking has happened, but I want to see where it takes me before I start waxing philosophical about it.

Off to the last doc in my possession!

LNR has been on my mind a lot recently. That is one of the nice things about working with other people's words for a living--they stay on the page at the end of the day. I don't find myself wondering about the development of the educational system in the Renaissance or democracy in the Philippines after 5 p.m. I usually find it interesting while working on it, but then I can set it aside. With my own writing, it spends a lot of time lurking around in my brain.

Just deciding that you having some characters you want to write a story about is not enough, I have discovered. It is a little like planning a wedding: you go into it thinking it is pretty straightforward--dress, flowers, ring, church--and find out there are a ton of decisions to be made that then affect other decisions to be made. Some details flow naturally from the context and others have to be consciously decided on.

A few posts ago, I mentioned tone. Recognizing that it was something I would have to take into consideration was good. Unfortunately, it occurred to me later that I hadn't really been thinking about my character the right way before, that I hadn't gotten down her tone. And that in turn was because I hadn't thought my way through the story. All I really had was that she was there, with her own baggage, something terrible happens, and...? Not exactly the stuff of great literature. A story can't just be A happens, then B happens, then C happens, the end. There has to be a change. Static characters are boring characters.

Quest stories--popular in fantasy--are one way of doing this: character goes on a journey, faces internal and external perils, learns something about the world and himself, reaches a goal, and returns successfully, a changed person.

A character doesn't have to fight a series of (literal) monsters to change, though. Dealing with the consequences of his or her actions can change a character, too, as I discovered in Haddon's Spot. The characters are the members of a family, and most of them change over the course of the book from kind of selfish jerks to people trying to be more aware of themselves and the people around them. This happens in part because they stop trying to deceive themselves, or start trying to see what is really in front of them.

I realized that my main character sounded somewhat like me, with my background and experiences coloring how I act and perceived the world. But that is not her history. Looking at the situation I have placed her in, I have to decide how *she* would respond, and what kind of person that would turn her into. I also had an idea for a final scene, and there is no way that the person on page one, as written now, could be the person on the last page. So there is more thinking ahead of me on that point.

Another thing--and this is going to sound stupid, I know, but there it is--that had me worried was how I was going to fill up enough pages to make a novel. As I said, dumb. Now I recognize that this, too, was related to me not thinking through the story. I didn't have any idea of how long of a time-period I was looking at for the action of the story. I originally thought I would stick closely to the point of view of my main character, but then I realized there were other characters with their own stories to tell. Unfortunately, one of them is going to get the whack part way through, but that is what it is.

I'm not a very demonstrative person, so the thought of writing about other people's thoughts and feelings when I have trouble expressing my own is rather daunting. I think this aspect of writing is going to be my own personal quest.

The subconscious is really a lovely thing. Here I've been working out the details of my characters' lives, and suddenly smack! There's a detail changed, and for the better. What I mean by "better" is that it is not as obvious as my original plan, or is more original, and it is something I think I can research and not make a fool of myself writing about it. Sorry to be so vague, but at this point the detail in itself is not what I wanted to write about, just the recognition nothing is ever set in stone when you are writing (or rather, planning for writing).

I often find myself having these aha! moments when doing mindless things, like straightening the kitchen (because I am messy in there) or washing dishes. Luckily, as I found out today, excitement about a new idea doesn't always override common sense. For instance, today (in the kitchen, of course) it occurred to me that I could tangle up my main character's love life by first introducing a love interest who is totally unlike her (she has some unique qualities, let us say), but then having someone who has the same qualities as her show up, only he turns out to be rather a bastard. That's when some other part of my brain said "Cliché!" I'm not saying I think I am so original that whatever I write will instantly receive special snowflake status, I just don't want to perpetuate a trope that shows up in every third novel that has a romance in it. I'll just set my subconscious to work on that and see what shakes out.

Today I am editing. Quote of despair: "Oh, come on!" Carry on.

Today I am editing. To which I say fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.* That is all.

*This does not count toward my daily word count.

Too tired

Too tired to post much today over here, now that I wrote about Hannah coming home late and upsetting both me and her dad on my other blog. I had actually worked a bit on LNR and was pleased with what I was getting done when I got sidetracked by that other stuff. And now my brain kind of hurts, so I think I will finish my cup of tea and head to bed.

Yesterday, I posted once here and once on my "regular" blog. I went back and ran a word-count on the 2 posts and found that I had managed to write 1.5 times as much as I had set as a (small, easily manageable) daily goal for myself. Today, I just posted on my regular blog and managed almost double my daily goal, without even having made it over here yet. But for me, the point isn't just that I write over a certain number of words every day, but that I (1) think about my writing on a regular basis, and (2) reach out to my friends and family through my blog more often.

Our grandmother passed away in March. She was the only person I exchanged letters with any more. Toward the end, I was sending her weekly (or so) postcards, just so she would now I was thinking about her. That's not really the format for long descriptions of what we have been up to, but it was still contact with someone I love. After she passed and I got back home, I realized that my blog would have to be my mode of writing chatty letters back home--not really saying much about anything, but just giving tidbits of our daily lives that our family couldn't experience directly. Like I used to write to Grandma. It took me a while to do it, though. There was a reluctance to overcome. I don't know why, but now I seem to have reached a place where I can try to be a better "correspondent" via my blog(s). So that is one thing that is driving me to be more wordy.

-----------

Yesterday, after writing here about my little insight on writing, I went back to LNR, and I figured out how to do it, how to start it. I wrote 1K. I stopped when I couldn't see what was happening anymore in my mind's eye. And then I got a little nervous, because there was a (what felt to me like a) long-ish section that was mostly dialogue, with little narrative in there. So I did what I always do when I am uncertain--I looked to see what other people have done. (As an editor and some-time teacher, my motto is You don't have to reinvent the wheel.) I looked at Alexander McCall Smith's The Sunday Philosophy Club and Haddon's Spot again. I realized two things. First, my section of dialogue was not too different from some of theirs. Check. Second, it is ok for me to add bits of my main character's mental responses and mental digressions, and even a few bits of info from the narrator. I don't have to stick so closely to what can be seen from the outside, like a little film of the action. I haven't had time today to go back and consider where I could apply this new-found knowledge, but I am really excited about doing it, whenever I finally do get the chance.

Thinking Aloud

I think I mentioned that I had been writing and re-writing the opening to my work in progress. At the time, I was worried that I would end up stuck on that section, always re-writing and never getting past that scene. It could happen. It was happening. I don't know how many times I have re-written it now, taking more or less the same information and rearranging it over and over again. The fear of stalling out led me to my bookshelves; I wanted to see how other people went about it.

The first thing I realized was that I don't have many books set in the present, and no urban fantasy (well, it might be a stretch to call what I am doing urban fantasy, but I am using it for want of a better term).

The next thing I realized was that not only does the opening set the stage for the rest of the work, it also sets the tone. I'll try to explain what I mean by that: opening Mark Haddon's novel A Spot of Bother, I read

It began when George was trying on a black suit in Allders the week before Bob Green’s funeral.

At first, I thought this sentence was rather dull, the subject rather prosaic. But I kept reading. And then it struck me that it reflected the personality of the character George, who is a little dull and prosaic. In this particular novel, Haddon later switches the point of view to the different members of this family, and the narrative prose changes as well to reflect their personalities.

I realized that I had been describing my character's actions without really setting her tone. She's deeply cynical and a little bitter, and she will take some major hits, but she will also continue to hold close the few people she is close to and hopefully add another one to the mix.

Editing

No one, and I mean *no one*, should love the colon as much as this author. He's not even German! (It is used more frequently, more legitimately in German than in English.)

*sigh*

Banished

I am sitting at my computer, banished upstairs--or is it a voluntary withdrawal--while Hannah has a belated birthday sleepover. Five 13-ish year-olds. Oi. I don't remember many of the specifics of sleepovers at the age of 13, but the hyper, loud, trash-talking--that I remember.

But anaway...

The last few nights, I have worked on my opening to LNR, and 3 attempts later, I have something I am fairly pleased with. Of course, that is not set in stone, either. I have already erased one sentence of it, and the last sentence is still a fragment. But it is progress, and that is a good feeling.

Now I am going to think about it some more while I wait to be summoned downstairs for birthday cake. Then I am going to bed.

Gah!

Translating and revising today--"inquire into" no longer looks like English. grrr...

Checking in

I am trying to build more writing habits, one of which is to not neglect my blogs. After I had a bout of logorrhea here the other night, I went bed with my notepad and jotted quite a few new notes about LNR. I am not certain I am satisfied with that, but it is something.

Then last night I spent the evening trying to get rid of a Trojan that was lurking on my laptop. I think I was successful, but it really sucked up my time and mental energy. Surprisingly, I have had a really good day, work-wise (editing), and am just using this little entry as a chance to take a brain break before embarking on some translating.

You know, I haven't missed the web sites I deleted like a Biblical plague, at all. And of the 9 that remain, I haven't gone and read all the new entries, despite them being marked as new!new!new! I have a heady feeling of control, and I like it, much as Katie Perry likes macking on chicks.

Ok, I don't think my brain is going to get any more broken than that, so time to get to translating!

Not too rambling, I hope

Kee and I have been awol for various reasons since--hoo boy--November, I see. Time to see if this thing can't be saved from the junk heap of the Internet.

I have been going back and forth on whether I even want to write. I had convinced myself that I just don't have what it takes, whether I actually wanted to write or not, and my short story "Late Night Radio" walked up and hit me in the head with a bag of lead pipes and said, "Hey! I'm actually a novel, dummy!" Way to be decisive, Nee. So that is something I have been working on in my own particular idiom, which means daydreaming while in the shower or washing dishes or doing the occasional craft project, but not really writing much. Yes, yes, I am on the fast track to success, you see.

Last night, I was reading online, as is my wont, and I came across this essay by Roger Ebert. Yes, Roger Ebert the film critic. He has a blog on the Chicago Sun Times web site, and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading his writing there. He writes with conviction but politeness on topics that would reduce others to snark and name-calling. Anyhow, the essay I read last night was about his online reading practices, and how he worries that it is affecting the way his brain works. If you look at the essay, he even cites a study that shows physical changes in the brain as a result of regular Internet use. He is concerned that his online search for that little charge you get--the frisson mentioned in the title of the piece--is resulting in an inability to engage with longer or deeper material. I recognize this frisson he speaks of--I realize that I have been looking for it in the 2-column-long list of RSS feeds I have found myself scanning multiple times a day. One day recently, I kept going back and refreshing it, over and over, as if suddenly a few dozen people would have hopped onto their computers to provide fresh fodder for my reading pleasure.

It also occurred to me, beyond Mr. Ebert's points, that the sites I was frequenting were themselves not very informative or deep. I like snark, but a steady diet of it is probably not too good for one's soul. Or mind. Last night in bed, I made a mental list of the sites on my feed, and it wasn't pretty. So this evening, I went through and weeded out the majority of feeds. I now have less than 10, and none are of the same type. Only 2 or 3 of them post regularly, so I won't be wading through a lot of updates. They are a mix of entertainment and information, but those that fall squarely under the heading "entertainment" must also have a certain something extra: sparkling wit (not just snark), engaging writing, or a perspective I wouldn't normally get. If I am going to spend my time and attention on something, it should be worth my while. (And if I decide I want to read the other stuff, I have a brain that contains the names of the other sites and can certainly find them on the Internet. I just won't have them piped into my home computer.)

In another blog essay I read recently from the science fiction author Jay Lake, he discussed deciding that the 2 most important things in his life were his daughter and his writing, and everything else would either have to fit around those or go away. TV? Bye-bye. Video games? Never got a foothold. (I seem to remember that he has talked about this before, but I decided that going back into his archives to look for it would probably be such a time suck that I wouldn't get around to finishing this entry. Score! for the rational mind.) And I realized that there are plenty of things even beyond my growing RSS feed that I allow to encroach on my time, without thinking about whether they are going to bring me closer to my goals. (Not that I am a goal-setter by nature. Maybe I should think about that.) Anyhow, I decided that Animal Crossing could get on without me for a while longer. Whenever I play, *whoosh!* there goes an hour, easy. So I gave Hannah my permission and blessing to play as me and send all my money to her character. It was enough to pay off the mortgage on her house and let her get a basement room. That's a lot of digital peaches picked and fish caught and shells collected and bugs netted and trees shaken.

Basically, this post is me saying that I have decided to not be so passive, to take an active approach to apportioning my time and giving myself the best chances to sit down and write. And that in turn entails acknowledging my fears (that is probably a post in itself) and not letting them dictate my actions. I can't decide if succeeding or failing is scarier, but doing nothing is saddest of all.

?

peck...peck...peck,peck...peck

Write, Edit, Delete, Write, Undelete

It's not a pretty process. I seem to change my mind every time I pick this up. Gotta make some decisions and stick to them. Write, edit, delete...

I can't type as fast as I can think

If I could type faster, it wouldn't take me so long to finish a chapter. But the reality of how fast I type to how fast I *think* I can type are two different things.

I do what?

I never realized how many cliches I use when I write. It's a really bad habit. What I am working on right now doesn't have any cliches. It is very straightforward, active writing. Word's grammer check puts it a 5th grade level. I think that's great since my mindset has been to make it something I would be comfortable letting my kids read. But I will be honest, I catch myself trying to put in cliches all the time. It's either that or adding in adjectives when I don't need them.

Better get to it for the night.

Might as well

I thought I might as well keep track of my new project here since writing is the whole point of this blog. My project will be called PURE here. I will only give general info so I won't bore you to death. I have finished chapter one and have made good headway into chapter two. I left a few leading points when I quit last night so I should be able to get a lot done in my time tonight. We'll see.

By the way, I am such a proud parent. The eldest asked me tonight if I would help him write a book. So now I have to show him that I can actually finish what I start.

Oh, so slowly...

I have been working on something new. I think I mentioned a wee bit about it earlier. It's kinda different than what I've done before, but I like it.

The biggest difference in working on this project is that I am not "in love" with it. That means: I love it so much I can't bear to hack away at it to make it better. I think I have been too "in love" with my characters or the idea of writing that I have feared the final product. This time I have a clear structure of what I want to accomplish. I wouldn't call it an outline, exactly, because at least I can see an "end" to the story. That's a big change for me.

Another change this time is that I don't dread the witching hour when I'm done with everything else and it's time to sit at the computer and put in my time. I have found this time that more often than not I have more than an hour's worth of staying power. There have only been a few times when it's felt like I have to peck out each letter. I usually try to hang in a little longer, then go read something in the same vein. I do need to beef up that part of my library since I only have a couple of that type.

Anyways, I better get at it. Slow but steady.

The Misadventures Of Super Librarian

That figures...I want a link and my girl moves!

She's now at:

The Misadventures Of Super Librarian

I love this gal!

I have wanted to put this blog as a link, but haven't got around to asking Nee.

Maybe she'll read this one post (10/28) and agree it is most worthy!

The Misadventures of Super_Librarian


The Misadventures of Super_Librarian

Weird

I have been thinking for a while about taking down a short story I put up here a while back, but today I finally got around to it. When I looked at it, I saw that I posted it exactly 2 years ago to the day. Strange.

quote for today

My mother drew a distinction between achievement and success.
She said that achievement is the knowledge that you have
studied and worked hard and done the best that is in you.
Success is being praised by others. That is nice but not as
important or satisfying. Always aim for achievement and
forget about success.

-Helen Hayes, 1900 - 1993

Funny you should mention it...

It is funny that Kee had posted a short story about her job, because I had just read this short story by MoonRat about *her* job as an editor.

For those who don't know...

In my real job, I have very strict standards for myself. I am organized. I keep deadlines. I leave my work so that any person could pick it up at a moment's notice and follow where I am at and what needs to be done next...say, like if I got hit by a bus or got *the* call that an agent wants everything I have ever written and I'm an overnight author success story. Well, the likelihood of me not showing up for work because of either of those is slim to none, but still I do my part to always be prepared.

The chick that came before me, well let's just say that all of her work has been sanitized. There is no evidence that this information lived a normal accounting life. It just appeared out of nowhere. It was not born of supporting documentation. It was not loved and nutured by a family of cross references. It has no friendships of tickmarks, ten-key tapes, or smudged pencil marks. No, this ugly step-child still bears the cleaniness it could have only known by being jerked fresh from the printer and shoved directly into a file folder. What absurd treatment of perfectly innocent financial information.

I have spent almost half of the last 48 hours sitting at my desk attempting to read, interpret, and make sense of the lack of information left for me. I have been doing this because it is my turn to produce the end result. I can't do that when I have no idea what the starting point is. I will brag enough to say that, with time, I could do it. I'm just that good. But I don't have time. My deadline is tomorrow. I would still be sitting there now if I didn't need a few things like food or sleep. And it's pissing me off right now that I can't make myself to do without those.

So we'll see what I can accomplish by the end of tomorrow. Maybe I can pull it off. Who knows. Both of my bosses realize the the trail I was left couldn't have been followed by a hardened sherpa. It's at least adding to my credit (and hopefully future paychecks) that I have gotten this far.

(In case you were wondering why this is posted on a writing blog, I thought I could use the practice at short story telling. I sometimes ramble and lose my point. For the record, I thought this one was good. Grade for me: A)

I don't have a problem with coming up with ideas to write. It's the follow through to the end that leaves me drowning in a sea of words that seems to get bigger the more I wade into it. I do my best(I think) writing when I just sit at the computer and type. There seems to be less back and forth editing that way. I don't think it has anything to do with my typing skills vs hand writing it out. I actually suck pretty hard at typing...when I took accounting in high school instead of typing I said that I would rather be an accountant who couldn't type than a typist who couldn't account. (hee hee hee...I have always thought that was rather funny since I turned into a damn fine accountant.)

But I digress. I consider the time between being able to sit down and get my words out as "brewing" time. It's when I let myself get so into the setting of the scene in my head that when I do write I can almost feel what's happening, almost like I am right there with my characters. It's kinda cool, but it's also a little freaky if I have to wait a while to get to a computer. It's like I have these people in my head talking to me. I know, I know; my family has thought I've heard voices in my head for years. I will admit to one rather strange instance that is what brought all of this up.

A couple of months ago I had the worst migraine of my life. And that is not an exaggeration. It was bad enough that when I went to the doctor a week later, her immediate reaction to my specifics had her scheduling me for an MRI. The MRI was okay and the neurologist cleared me of anything serious. I have never had one that had me wishing I would just pass out to get it over with. In the middle of the pain, throwing up, dizziness, etc, etc, I had an idea for a book. If I concentrated on the idea, the migraine didn't feel as if it was sucking the life out of me at that moment. I focused on the characters, setting, AND THE ENDING, then when I got through all of it my medicine put me to sleep. It was so strange.

When I got up the next day (like 18 hours later), I could still remember it. The whole thing was laid out for me. I could see how I could write it in sections and be done. So that's what I have been doing. Now, it's not like what I have been doing before, well, not exactly like it. Yes, it is a romance. But, no, it is not an explicit romance. It would probably be called a christian romance. Maybe it had something to do with me calling to my maker while my head throbbed, I don't really know why it has to be that way, but it does. And I'm good with that. It will be shorter than other stuff I tried so maybe that will also help it get done. Anyways I just thought I'd post what I was up to.

May the writing bug bite you, too!

Writing Process

From an article about Comic Con in the NYTimes:

Asked by Mr. Lasseter ... about how he goes about creating his stories, the silver-haired Mr. Miyazaki, who appeared both bewildered and mildly amused by the encounter, said: “My process is thinking, thinking and thinking about my stories for a long time. If you have a better way, please let me know.”

I'm Dishonorable!

Well, the 2009 Bulwer-Lytton Contest results are in, and I am one of the Miscellaneous Dishonorable Mentions for this finely crafted piece:

On a lovely day during one of the finest Indian summers anyone could remember--a season the Germans call "old wives' summer," obviously never having had Native Americans to name things after, but plenty of old wives, and "Indian summer" in German would refer to the natives of India in any case, which would make even less sense than the current naming system--on such a day, however named, John Baxter fell in the creek and drowned.

Let the accolades flow in!

Getting Nowhere Fast

A couple of days ago, I realized I had to get better organized with my materials for my thesis. Also, I needed to get energized, so I made myself a sign:

I am the queen of the organizers. I will organize the hell out of this shit!

That is taped onto the picture hanging in our dining room above the bench, which has its own signs for the different sections of my thesis. I made piles of materials under the signs, and the best thing is that I can put my piles on the floor under the bench--still sorted!--whenever we need to be able to sit down at the table.

Now if I can just get the sorted materials digested and organized into a coherent structure...

(Hannah loves to read this sign, but she bleeps out the bad words.)

And there was life after all...

I didn't fall of the earth, though it kinda looks like it by way of my postings here. Things have been in an upswing around the place lately and that means the old writing juices are free to flow again. I've been pondering my RANSOM story and might actually get a chance to drag it out and shake the dust off of it this weekend. We'll see how far I get and report back later.

So slow

I got some work in yesterday on my thesis, and a little on an editing gig. Today, I taught 2 classes and then took Hannah back to the doctor about her cast, and then came home and made dinner. Now I am bushed, but tomorrow I'll get back into gear.

Kee--how's things?

You've Got that Squeezy Feeling

I have so much to do, I am starting to feel the first flutterings of panic. *deep breath*

*Deep breathing not helping*

*Fetal position*

Maybe another time with the blogging...

TA DA!

I finished all 15 articles from my editing job! Woo! Now I am just waiting for feedback from the last 4 authors, and this is job is DONE! YAY! And it only took me 82 hours to get through 205 pages. Actually, now that I think about it, that's not so stupendous, but at least it is over.

What's Your Daily Routine Like?

Just came across an interesting blog that details "how writers, artists, and other interesting people [such as the 44th President of the United States] organize their days."

Daily Routines

I've just skimmed through the first few entries so far, but I have enjoyed seeing how other "creative types" structure their work.

Personally, I am not very organized, but I have discovered recently that I can get up, make some coffee and get Hannah out the door, and get immediately to work (on the current editing job). I am going to be screwed if I ever get an office job again. :-P

Imperial

I have reached the point in editing one article that "imperial" no longer looks like a real word.

Words, words, everywhere words

Let me just say that I don't think "hypothecate" is a real word.

Moving on, I have a few hundred pages to edit before the end of the month and many hundred pages to read for my thesis as soon as possible. Why do I get myself into these things?

So if you are looking for me, I'll be trapped under my laptop for the foreseeable future.

Updating me

Just a little note to let you know that I updated my profile info. It was really out of date with the line about me "recently" quitting my job. I couldn't believe it when I saw I had three hundred hits on it. Who'd have thunk?

I'm going to work on Ransom. Maybe I'll have a post soon about it.

BookEnds, LLC — A Literary Agency

I had a minute and look what I found! Look at the 3/24 post...

BookEnds, LLC — A Literary Agency

Have a GREAT rest of the day!

Thesis Update

Not that there's much to update on. I've been reading and making notes, but not nearly enough, which is something I am trying to fix. I am starting to feel the pressure--just a little--especially since one of my professors said he'd like to read my thesis after I turn it in, and my supervisor mentioned my thesis to a colleague, who then recommended a couple of articles/bibliographies for me to check out, but why was she talking about my thesis to other people, and *agggggghhhh*! Ok, time for a deep breath. *inhale, exhale* Better now.

Back to the article I am reading.

Updated Reading List

Well, it doesn't look like I am going to get around to book-reporting my reading list, so I might as well just tell you what I've read recently:

Vile Bodies, by Evelyn Waugh

Most people are familiar with Brideshead Revisited, but since this was recommended to me, I gave it a try as my first Evelyn Waugh. I liked it--terse but absurd.

Herr Bello und das blaue Wunder, by Paul Maar and Ute Krause ("Mr Bark" and the blue miracle)

A kids' book about a dog that drinks a mysterious blue potion that turns him into a human. Hijinks ensue.

Lord of the Flies, by William Golding

I remember that the other advanced English class in 12th grade read this, something I resented at the time, but obviously not very much, because it took me 18 years to get around to reading it on my own (and it has been sitting on my bookshelf for probably 4 years). The writing didn't really do much for me, but I was totally hooked for the last 4 or 5 chapters, racing through to see how it ended.

Schepper, by Iris A. Otto ("Rattler" (of bones))

A girl has a skeleton for a friend, who may or may not be imaginary. I thought the girl was pretty obsessed with death--the story starts with her great-aunt dying--but Hannah, who has also read the book, disagreed.

Now I am reading a book about archaeology and the Anglo-Saxons.

I wouldn't have believed how much a difference broadband would make to this dial-up hold out. Buts I gots to say...wow. I'm lovin' it. And it sweetens the deal that we got in with a *guaranteed* lifetime rate of less than what I paid for the dial-up. Yeah, I know. One, it was a great deal, and, two, *guaranteed* lifetime is not saying a whole lot these days...but we'll ride it as long as it lasts.

Anyhoo...the writing will have to wait a wee bit longer. I am having to work on my taxes. There's a bit of a situation and so it takes top priority. Of course, this top priority has already been interrupted with the procrastination bug, hence the visit to the blog that I have only looked at twice in the last 4 months or so. But said procrastination is taking so much less time with the already mentioned wonderful broadband..woohoo!

Hopefully, next week will see me zipping through some long pent-up writing ideas.

Time for a kick

I recently heard from Kee that she is pretty well settled into her new job, AND she got broadband, so there are no excuses for no updates from her. *hint, hint* We want to hear some writing progress, pronto!

Mini-Book Report: Krabat, by Otfried Preußler

I forgot to mention earlier that the city library is closed until June for renovation, which is one reason I decided to work on my book backlog. But I am not limiting myself to my own personal books; Hannah has lots of books—especially English and German classics—I haven’t read, so they are also fair game.
After Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, I picked up Krabat, by Otfried Preußler, from Hannah’s stash. It won a lot of international awards and was even made into a movie last fall. Interestingly enough, Hannah’s class was reading it at the time, but they couldn’t go to see the film as a class because the minimum age to get in was 12, which meant a bunch of the sixth-graders were too young to be admitted without a parent. John read it when Hannah was done with it, and now I’m reading it.

I saw where it was published in English under the title The Satanic Mill, which would probably be a big turn-off for American parents, but the story is a lot more subtle and unsettling than such a blunt title might suggest.

Krabat is an orphan who finds his way to a mysterious mill after having the same dream 3 nights in a row. Things happen repeatedly in threes throughout the book, and this ratchets up the suspense. Krabat is taken on as an apprentice at the mill; he realizes things aren’t exactly what they seem, but only later does he discover that milling is only part of this training. He and the other 11 apprentices are also taught black magic. Most days pass uneventfully, but at midnight during the new moon, the apprentices must work feverishly in a secret part of the mill, grinding who-knows-what for a sinister being whose wagon leaves no tracks in the snow.

Reading the book, there is an almost surreal quality to the events that occur. The apprentices rarely speak openly to each other, from the fear that the master will discover it. They realize that even their innermost thoughts are not safe from him: Krabat has a series of dreams showing the futility of trying to run away from the mill.

In the end, the master’s power is broken and the apprentices are set free, but it is love, not magic, that has the power to save them.

Otfried Preußler wrote a lot of children’ books* that are considered classics in Germany, and the ones Hannah doesn’t already have, I will definitely be adding to my to-read list once the library is open again.

* Krabat is one of the few YA/juvenile books Preußler wrote.

Mini-Book Report: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke

The year is 1806. England has forgotten its magical past, reduced to fairy tales and myths. There are some who claim to be magicians, but neither the swindlers nor the academicians can actually perform magic. Until a retiring, nervous little man—Mr. Norrell—is discovered. He has devoted his life, in the quiet of his private library, to the study of magic, and after proving his abilities to the theoretical magicians, he sets out to ensure his role as the sole practitioner and protector of magic in England.

Jonathan Strange wants to get married, but he knows that his inheritance won’t impress his beloved as much as his having a vocation. Through a strange series of events, he hits on the idea of becoming a magician, and for the first time in his life, throws himself whole-heartedly into his studies. He eventually finds his way to Norrell and convinces him to take him on as his student.

The reader follows Norrell and Strange through English history—trying to cure mad King George, helping Wellington to victory at Waterloo—and through alternate history, as well, as they restore magic to England, to their own detriment.

Maybe I am the target audience, but I enjoyed every one of the 1006 pages of the paperback edition of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. It has *footnotes*, people; footnoted fiction—it was love at first sight. The language made me think of Jane Austen and Henry James, and the humor was deliciously dry. And to top off the enjoyment, I didn’t notice a single typo, something that has marred my enjoyment of many a text, fiction and academic alike. I found it an all-around excellent read!

I have never gone back and reloaded my bookmarks* from when I weaned myself from the teat of the Internet while I was studying for my exams. That means that if I want to look at blogs, I have to 1. remember the URL, or 2. make the effort to dig my bookmarks out from where I’ve hidden them on my hard drive. I am a lazy person at heart, so I’ve stuck with method 1 for a while; I just wish I had a better memory. The other day, though, I had to look something up for John on his computer, which contains my core bookmarks from back when we were a one-computer family. The lure was too great to resist, and I found myself skimming my old bookmarks. Aha! I thought. Let’s see what Mr. John Scalzi is up to.

Now I am thinking of giving up writing.

It was this article that really did it for me. Does this main character/story-line ring any bells, Kee? Does it remind you of a certain short story I was working on last year?

Last time something like this happened to me, I thought, Hey! My story ideas aren’t total crap! Someone else out there thought it was a publishable idea. This time, my confidence has taken a bit of a beating.

I guess I know the saying, beat by Miss Snark into her readership, that ideas are a dime a dozen, but the real test is in the execution. But that doesn’t make me feel much better. I guess I thought my idea was unique, but apparently someone else’s brain works similarly to mine.

What’s really stupid is that I didn’t even have any plans to publish my story (I don’t *think*, but the brain is a treacherous organ).

Also, I hadn’t written a word on it in months and months, even though I had recently dusted it off mentally and was working out some necessary revisions. Maybe that is why I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me. If my story were still buried in a box in my closet or in a file on my hard drive, it would have been like finding out that my one-of-a-kind tchotchke was actually part of a set. As it is, it feels more like discovering that someone cloned my child and gave her a better upbringing—complete with private tutor and pony—than I could.

Maybe I should just get over myself. I mean, look what happened to this guy: When he wrote a book from the point of view of an ogre, Shrek came out. When he wrote a book about some kick-ass princesses, Shrek 3 came out. And yet, he didn’t let him get it down, and those books all got published.

* Yes, I know there are sites where you can store your bookmarks online, but I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet.

Let's see:

Today I read a chapter on child development and a chapter on cognitive linguistics and wrote a page of notes for my thesis. It's not a whole lot, but it is a lot more than nothing. I think I will aim for that amount as my minimum every day.

And what's up with you?

I had a very productive day--minus my bus not coming and therefore being late for the class I was scheduled to teach. *d'oh!*

I typed up a plan for my thesis and sent it off to a potential advisor, who wrote me right back and said yes. Yay! Except, I am supposed to turn in a form with her signature on Thursday, and she is sick at home (in a distant town--she commutes). I'll drop it in the mail to her tomorrow and run by the exam office with a copy of her email to let them know that I won't have my paperwork in on time.

I found a couple of books to use for my thesis. I'll start reading them tomorrow and will enter them in a database of materials.

I read about the corpus I want to use for my research.

So, baby steps and all, but progress!

I don’t normally make New Year’s resolutions, but this year I have resolved to whittle away my to-read pile. John knows how much I love to read, and every xmas I get books from him, but I don’t seem to have made much headway recently on getting through my stack. This last semester has been rather heavy-duty, so there has been no reading for pleasure, outside of the occasional peek into one of my “wubby” books: Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, The Dead Zone, The Lord of the Rings. I often read the last three when I feel a little down. Nothing makes me feel better than a guaranteed cry.

Anyhow, I had taken up Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell as bathroom reading a while back, but it was getting too engrossing for that setting, and I didn’t have more time to devote to it, so it went into the closet until yesterday. I thought I was about halfway through it, but alas, my bookmark is only about one-quarter of the way in. So now I have something to do in the evenings in addition to mastering Rock Band for Wii and the occasional sewing project. During the day, I will be putting my nose to the grindstone on my thesis (I even did a little research for it already this morning!). I refuse to feel guilty about reading in the evening, as long as I get my work done in the morning.

I had grand plans for organizing my reading plan, maybe going in alphabetical order, but that would be a huge undertaking, so I think I will just try to mix it up as I go. And post my progress here, just to have something to say.

Wow! It has been forever and a day since I last posted. Since then, I've completed all but one of my exams (the last one is on Jan. 8), finished editing that dissertation (5 minutes ago), and edited an e-magazine for my university's English department, the theme of which was murder-mysteries. Some were really good--they made me forget to read with an eye toward correction for paragraphs at a time, always a good sign.

If I passed my exam last week and pass my exam in 2 weeks, I will then move on to writing my master's thesis next semester. I still need to arrange for a supervisor, but I will try to get organized next week and send an email to a likely person who was recommended to me.

In a fit of inspiration--I don't have bursts, they are definitely fits--I jotted down the first part of an entry for next year's Bulwer-Lytton contest. One day, I will be bad enough to win, and not just amuse myself. I swear on Grumpy's beard!

Can't write. Must study. More at other blog.

Here is the blog I was telling you about: http://super_librarian.blogspot.com/ Hopefully that will get you there.

I totally love Wendy! Her post for 11-1 had me in coffee-snorting laughter. She's in my favorites but I'd love a link to her on our blog.

The librarian in you will love her. Read the 10-29 post.

Here's an entertaining blog for the romance-readers among us:
Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

I especially like the logo that comes up at the top of the screen:
Come for the Dominican Bitches, Stay for the Man-Titty

Hee hee hee!

Hannah has a pretty stable list of what she wants to be when she grows up: a cook / restaurant / hotel owner, president of the US, a super-model, other normal over-the-top kid ideas about careers. Recently she's added author to her list.

On Friday, her PE teacher didn't show up. After the kids farted around for the first hour of PE, a different teacher turned up and said, hey, why don't you kids each come up with an idea for a story, and then swap ideas and write a story based on what you end up with. Well, Hannah was not very thrilled about having to write a horror story, especially since the idea came from a *boy*, the horror! So she told the boy to keep his idea and she would write up hers.

She came home Friday afternoon with most of a hand-written page: The Spy Pie. She's still not sure about the title. It's a story about a kid who becomes a spy--I don't know what pie has to do with it, and I don't think she does either, because her alternate title would use "pi", as in 22/7.

She spent quite a bit of time Friday afternoon and one day this weekend writing on her story. I think she has 2 chapters so far. She read some of it to John and me, and frankly, we were impressed. She did have a few flubs with prepositions--interference from German, I'm afraid--but she really has a feel for how a story should be put together.

After finishing chapter 2, she asked John if he would be her agent and help her publish her book when she finished. Of course! he answered. Not 10 minutes later, she came to me in the living room and asked if *I* would be her agent. Didn't you just ask Dad to be your agent, I ask. Well, in case he dies. Well, in that case, yes. She's always thinking about contingency plans.

I don't know if she will get around to finishing her opus, but her spate of work over the weekend kind of made me feel ashamed of my own lameness. Hannah can be totally lazy and lack-luster about things--like studying German grammar or Latin vocabulary--but when it comes to something that she personally enjoys--like blowing stuff up in science class or writing short stories--she works hard and learns quite a bit. She's kind of my hero, except when I am trying to get her to study German grammer, Latin vocabulary, etc.

Fuck me. I just realized that the humongous text I’m proofreading (561 pages for the main document) is spaced all weird. One page of the text—with the weird spacing and 13-point type—is 39 lines and equivalent to about one-and-a-half pages of normal double-spacing with 12-point type. So in reality, I’m proofreading 561 x 1.5 = 840.5 pages. Luckily, there are lots of tables and graphs and screenshots in one chapter, but still!

Let me just go on the record here. The word "zoomable"--as in, "a zoomable table/graphic"--is the devil's underpants is far as I am concerned.

That is all.

I realized on Sunday that I have a double-shitload of stuff to do and zero organizational skills, so I needed to think of something fast or risk being buried in an avalanche of undone shit. Then it hit me: Hannah goes to school every day, and at school she has a fixed schedule. All I have to do is follow her school schedule. She has class in one-and-a-half-hour blocks, with 15- or 10-minute breaks in between. So this morning I sat down at 7:50 and started working on a *huge* proofreading job I’d barely started on (we’re talking 600+ pages). I worked when Hannah was in class, took breaks when she took breaks, and ate lunch when she ate lunch. At one point I looked up and was all, “Fluh?! How did it get to be 3 o’clock already?”

That’s when I called it a day, about 30 minutes before Hannah got out of school. But rather than lie in front of the tv and wait for John to throw cookies in my mouth, like I usually do, I gathered up the 2 big bags of clothes from the great fall closet purge and headed into town to drop them in the donation box and pick up a couple of books that were waiting for me at the university library. I got home at 5 and, surprisingly, didn’t feel completely brain-dead, so I am going to work some more (did I mention 600+ pages?) while John makes chili (only he doesn’t know yet that he’s going to make chili).

Pages covered so far today: 15 + 1 + 6 + 18 = 40 (oh dear, this is going to be a hard slog)

I’m glad to see that Kee had something to post while I was off on vacation. It will probably take me forever and a day just to label the 700+ photos we took, much less blog the trip. I haven’t even finished blogging the previous trip to Stockholm! School stuff and an editing gig are going to have to come first, though.

While waiting for one of several loads of laundry to finish up, I was perusing some of the blogs I have bookmarked—there are a *lot* of them, but I don’t read all of them regularly—and I came across a really excellent post by Alice over at Finslippy. She told about an art class where one half of the class was graded on the quantity of pots they produced, and the other half was graded on the quality of pots they produced. Surprisingly, the quantity half of the class made more improvement than the quality half, because they could make improvements on previous mistakes with the next pot, whereas the quality half got bogged down trying to make the perfect pot on the first try. Alice rightly, in my opinion, pointed out that this applies to all creative arts: you create something, and if it is not perfect on the first try, so what; you do it better next time. Anyhow, I thought it was something interesting and important enough to mention here.

And then all the planets aligned...

I had the urge Tuesday night to re-read what I had done on a story I had started but hadn't touched in a while. The story--code name RELATION--and its characters had been swarming around my head after I posted. Mainly, I think, because I was seriously doubting if writing was something I wanted to pursue and I was also seriously doubting if RANSOM was ever going to get done.

Part of the problem is that I like my characters in RANSOM too much. I think that's part of my progression/perfection problem and why I'm not getting anywhere. I started RELATION on a whim of an idea and just typed away until I hit a brick wall. It took a relatively short amount of time for what I had complete, but it was also over TWO years since I touched it...AGH!

Alas, when I re-read it, I thought 'Not too bad.' It had some of the same mistakes I have been trying to eliminate in RANSOM, but it would be easy enough to fix. As I was in the middle of reading, I couldn't remember where I'd left the story-just that I knew I had hit the wall and didn't know what came next. To my surprise, the last line I had typed--which had nothing to do with the story--was 'This is a test.'

It floored me. That is EXACTLY the phrase I have been using in describing all the crap that has been going on in my life the last 8 months. It's felt like the decisions that have been put before me are a test of what I really want and where/what I need to be. So to see it on something I wrote two years ago is...yeah.

I go to bed with the story on my mind. At 3:44 the next morning I wake up with where the story is supposed to go next-I'm on the other side of the wall! I try to tell myself it'll still be in my head at a decent hour and to go back to sleep. Then I keep hearing 'This is a test.' So I get up and, bleary-eyed, go outline what I woke up with. Then the next day, I outline more. So now I'd say I had 8/10 of the story outlined and plotted. That's a first for me-knowing where the story is going before I write it.

It may not be a best-seller but it would make a nice category romance. And best of all, right now it would mean I actually get to write new stuff instead of editing old stuff. Every time I feel like quitting, I hear 'This is a test' and keep going.

On the high school note...

I have had the thought lately that I am not the same girl I was back then. In some ways (no more baby fat, no more BIG hair), it's not so bad. In other ways, not so good. Aside from the fact I'm STILL dealing with unruly hormones (mine and my pre-pubescent kids), the drive/spark/ambition that kept me at the top of my class is gone.

I read an interesting blog over BookEnds about writers and the company they keep with other writers. (I'd link it if I knew how.) It basically talked about how the drive to succeed and compete will eventually lump good writers together. Then this support network pushes them farther and higher.

My mother has told me that in high school I competed with my dear Nee. I have always said to that, "I never FELT that I competed with her." For all the world to know...Nee was, and still is, on a much higher academic level than me. I never knowingly tried to compete with her, but, yes, it could account for some of my success back then (even though Nee was two years ahead of me).

Okay, so what's up now? I still have the amazing support of Nee (and a few other very friendly friends) who have contributed much to my efforts at being a published author. Is it the same as direct competition? Well, no. Do I have the benefit of constant feedback/praise? Yes. Do I have someone pushing me to do more? Yes, multiple someones.

So where's my drive? Why can't I finish the first novel?

Maybe it's because I am still the girl I was back in high school...I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up...I am taking the safer road (the safer classes)...To be an accountant will be more stable than being a writer...If I don't try something risky, I can't fail at it.

The idea will still be safe in my dreams.

During my high school band geek phase--as opposed to my college band geek phase--I spent most of my sophmore year hanging around with 2 older section leaders. These paragons of leadership never, ever played the school fight song at football games. Never. Instead, they sang a little song they had made up to insult various band directors to the tune of the fight song:

Ed's retardo,
Fred's retardo,
Bud's retardo, too.
Every-body is retardo
--except Mr. Graham--
and so--are--you!

(Hint: The retardos probably weren't Ed, Fred, or Bud.)

I've had one of my stories floating around and around in my head recently, and last night I tried to translate the images in my brain into words on paper. Needless to say, I got one sentence down and quit in frustration. That's when the high school band song popped into my head, only with "Nee" in all the name spots. It was very frustrating, especially since I've had the writing itch for the last week, but nothing to show for it. (Not even a rash, ha ha.)

Otherwise, I have been working on editing for one of my profs. I need to finish up and get it sent out, because on Wednesday we are leaving for Stockholm! Woo! I doubt I'll get any writing done there, but it will be a nice change of pace.

When I turned in my terribly, horribly overdue paper, I wasn't actually sure that I would get it back in time to complete my registration for my master's exams. My professor's assistant had sent me a note that the professor in question would not be grading papers after the 28th of July. The 28th came and went with no message, so I figured it was not meant to be.

I haven't read for my exams as much as I would have liked to, but I have been filling up my spare time with some proofreading for one of my profs in the English department. His feedback has been wonderful--he likes me! he really likes me!--and it has been a relatively satisfying job. And to top it off, when I mentioned that I might not be taking my exams in the fall after all--he is one of my examiners--he said that he would be willing to do me a favor and talk to the other professor about my late paper (they're friends, you know).

But what do you know? Today I got an email from the first prof that she's graded my paper! I got a C--not a surprise. So now I feel like I really need to buckle down. Today I worked at my student job and cleaned the kitchen like a crazy cleaning person--did you know we have a drawer under our stove? I didn't--so I am not up to much studying, but tomorrow I won't have anything else to do but help Hannah bake cookies and wash some laundry. And read, of course.

"Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently."
Henry Ford, 1863 - 1947

For the editorial minded, here is a funny video, "Font Conference":

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Exam prep (Sunday): read one chapter of a textbook on child language acquisition.

DONE!



I turned in my final paper on Friday, after writing seriously for 4 or 5 days. I ended up with a 19-page linguistics paper (23 pages with cover, contents page, and bibliography) in German. I call that quite an accomplishment.

I still have a master's thesis (80 pages), 4 oral exams (one half hour each), and 2 written exams (5 hours each) to finish before I am done with my degree, and I have a year in which to do them--or rather, 6 months for the thesis and 6 months for the exams. But I have learned from working on this paper--something I should have learned a long time ago--that to really learn something, I have to work on it a little every day. Otherwise you lose your forward momentum. So that is my goal, one I will try to keep tabs on here.

Right now I am still playing catch-up on household things, but I know I can't do everything at once, so I am trying to spread it out so I can read for my exams AND not live in filth AND not go crazy. I think I can do it.

Exam prep (Saturday): read one chapter of a textbook on child language acquisition.

Arguments over grammar and style are often as fierce as those over Windows versus Mac, and as fruitless as Coke versus Pepsi and boxers versus briefs.
-Jack Lynch, English professor, author (b. 1967)

Query letter update...emailed 7/5...Rejection received 7/9.

It was a standard form rejection.

Oh, well.

I'll keep trying.

Query letter update...Mailed 21 days ago...Rejection received 7/7/08

It was a plain jane form rejection with a name stamp, but it was dated 6/30. That meant it was a fairly fast turn around in her office. The most delay was probably due to the holiday mail service.

Oh well.

I did email a query 7/5. I'll keep you posted.

My paper-writing has ground to a halt. First, I was in a frenzy of reading, making notes, making connections, and there was...something...I was just not quite connecting. It was on the tip of my brain, and I still can't seem to quite grasp it. Sort of like trying to see a floater* in your vision, but when you try to focus on it, it moves off to the side.

Then when I was going back over the article that is the impetus for my paper, it already seems to be including points I wanted to make myself. Shit--where did that come from? I have already read the article more than once!

Grumble, grumble, grumble...


* Yes, I have very bad eyes, and yes, I try to keep track of the floaters in case I suddenly get more of them. No one wants a detached retina.

Query letter update...Mailed 14 days ago...No response yet

In re-reading my goods, I can tell you there is a marked difference in the stuff at the front and the stuff at the back. I had hoped that all of the over compulsive editing I did in the first few chapters was only my own need to tweak it. Apparently, if the back is any indication, it must have pretty much sucked when I first started.

The end is going to take more work that I thought. Aside from the few plot pieces I knew I needed to add, it just doesn't read smoothly. It's almost like I missed writing down half of what was in my head. So it feels very stark, with little emotion or depth. I NEED DEPTH! And I need it quick, cause I've been on a roll writing lately and these damn characters are in my head constantly, and if I call out the hero's name in my sleep, well I think I'll be headed to divorce court.

There was a fascinating article in the NYTimes about the sworn virgins of Albania. Up until recently, women could vow never to have sex and presto-chango! They were men. This was only an option if the male head of the family died or was killed and there was no other male to take charge of the family. A female family member could make the switch, so to speak, and suddenly have the same status and respect as men. Nowadays, there is much more gender equality in Albania, and these family-heads are a dying breed.

I am often struck by how much weirder reality is than fiction.

A NYTimes article on the role of the copy-editor. True, the newspaper copy-editor may be on the way out, but that is not the only variety of copy-editor in the world, so my career aspiration hasn't already died out.

There's this Chinese girl in my department (in both my departments, actually--she's on the same degree program I am and started at the same time), and we occasionally go out for coffee, like once a semester. I saw her in the intro meeting on the first day, and I had her pegged for a bumbler right away. Every time I talk to her, she is really down about school, and she is always behind on her work--even worse than me! She is just now finishing a paper that was due 2 years ago!

Today we had coffee again, and I realized something--I don't want to be like her! It suddenly hit me that I was on the long slide toward turning into her, and I was horrified. I went and worked like a demon possessed on my paper after that, and my stuff is sitting on the table right now so I can work on it some more after I sign off here.

Nothing else has worked to get me motivated to work. It looks like snobbery and fear are my prime motivators.

I have been gone for a good reason. I have been working. On the book.

But I may be gone for a while longer because I may have gotten myself in a bind.

Okay, I have no problem admitting that I listen to the universe. In my world, it keeps me aware of things going on around me and makes me feel like I'm not so alone. Well, I haven't felt like doing a lot lately. To put it mildly, I have been depressed. Things have not been going well on a lot of fronts and I have lost all sense of someone watching over me. This is bad. Not even going to church has restored my feeling of being connected.

Well, it seems like rock bottom is where I needed to be to get serious about my book again. Nothing else has settled me the way writing has, so it's been the only thing I've been able to accomplish. Then, out of the blue, the universe decides to speak to me again. Was there any "I am sorry for not getting in touch lately?" Hell, no. Only a "Pssst, listen up. I've got something I need you to do." That something was to send in a query letter to a VERY big name agent. And that would be a good thing if the novel was complete and ready to send if she wants a full ms. It'll be my luck, or the universe's perverse joke, if she does actually ask for it (it could happen).

So needless to say, I have less than a week to pull together the pieces it's in now and at least get it done. I had just rationalized to myself (before reading your last post) that the most important part was to get all the plot structured in so I could complete a reasonable synopsis/outline (usually 2nd step if agent wants to see more). I think it's about the same thinking. It doesn't have to wow. I just need that big step done. Like yesterday. Then I wouldn't feel bad making the agent wait to tune it up.

We'll see. The universe has cleared the path for me and I have about a week to spend some serious time working on it. Rock bottom is not looking so bad.

Yesterday I sat down and worked on my paper for most of the day. For all that effort, I have a pretty pitiful amount done, but today I am going to power on as soon as I get home.

I was telling John about my paper, and he had a very astute observation to make: My paper doesn't have to be the best paper in the world, it just has to be good enough--and finished.

I think that is one of my major stumbling blocks; I feel like my school work has to completely wow my instructors, but scholarship isn't about making amazing discoveries with every single work. It is more about adding incrementally to the total of the scholarship that has gone before you. In my case, I am writing a paper for a class, so the point is more to show that I can synthesize information into a coherent whole, not so much that I have something new of my own to say.

I wonder how I can turn the above into a mantra for when I start to backslide?

J.K. Rowling's commencement speech at Harvard University

It's very touching and thought-provoking, what she has to say.

I once had an idea for a children’s book: an American child moves to Germany and learns her way around her new town and/or shows her visiting relatives around town. I was moderately pleased with the idea.

Then I saw in the library today that someone has done exactly that for the city of Stuttgart. It looks a bit like a visitor’s bureau guide for the 12-and-under set, complete with maps.

I had envisioned an artist’s rendition, maybe in watercolors, of some of the highlights of Heidelberg interspersed with pictures of the characters.

Just because someone else has done something similar to my original idea here doesn’t mean that there might not still be a market for it in America, but it is kind of disappointing on the one hand, that someone beat me to the punch, but exhilarating on the other, to know that the idea I had was a viable one.

My boss in the English Department is sort of on sabbatical this semester—she swapped places with a professor in New Mexico. Back in April, she was in town for a conference and arranged to have lunch with us lowly student employees. She told us a really outrageous story about the goings-on in her department-away-from-home (which I won’t go into here, but it was way out there). Then she wanted to hear about how we were all doing.

One of the other student employees, S, brought up the creative writing class she is taking. Apparently there is this core group of students who keep taking the class every semester and are very resistant to any suggestions for change. (Of course, the student who brought up the changes prefaced her statement with, “In America, we….” Dumb, dumb, dumb.) S is very disappointed in the class, because she was hoping that they would actually work on specific problems—say characterization, for instance—and would get and give honest feedback. But no, the old-timers want to churn out new stories every week and cash in on a warm fuzzy in class, not work on improving what they’ve already written.

And to add another layer of frustration with the class, there is a fellow student who only writes really icky porn. Badly written icky porn. She says she can tell that he is mostly trying to freak out his classmates. She is more freaked out by his lack of interpersonal skills and disregard for personal space.

What was really strange about her mentioning this guy was that I had just read some of his stuff not 30 minutes before our lunch. I was working in the English Department library, and I finished up with a little time to spare before lunch, so I was browsing the course materials on the hold shelf. Creative writing caught my eye, so I thought I’d see what was in that binder. There were a few stories in there, one a take on Snow White that I really liked and which induced me to keep reading. That’s when I found the ick-meister. As I told S and everyone at lunch, it seemed that he was trying to show off how many synonyms for “semen” he knew. At which my boss did a spit take and declared that she had missed me.