Worlds Between

The revolution was a lie

2011-01-17T09:43:00.000-05:00

I hesitate to say that I am back to blogging regularly. Or writing regularly. One thing I've learned during my recent hiatus is that too much introspection is not necessarily a good thing for me. I may tend to overthink things. Just a little. And blogging requires a certain amount of introspection. So... yeah. No promises.

I have been writing, however. Not necessarily anything that will ever see publication or possibly even the light of day. But writing has started to feel good again, like something I want to do instead of have to do. Again, I'm not planning, scheduling, or promising. For now, I'm just going with the flow.

I have, however, begun to build up a new author site, which is now linked in the sidebar as well. It has the requisite About the Author section and list of published works. I also plan to gradually reformat and put up the older stories which are no longer under contract elsewhere. I thought it might be fun to put up a little behind the scenes type info as I go through the reformatting and publishing process for the stories. Your mileage may vary. But it's here if you're interested in taking a peek.

In other news, my friend Rigs has sold a story! Congrats! I'll be watching for the anthology to be released.

I was ready to set the world on fire

2010-11-03T13:59:00.000-04:00

My writing hiatus has lasted a little over a month so far. (Although not really, because last week I wrote a teeny tiny little scene that was in my head and wanted out.) Today I felt compelled to work on the draft of a query letter for the middle grade novel. (Because really, I have nothing else I should be doing.) So it's sitting open in the background while I work on more critical projects. Right now, it's at the stage I call "what I REALLY think" and will need to be made polite and politically correct and refined and so forth before I send it to any prospective agents. (If I send it out to any agents.) What can I say, I was in an extraordinarily honest mood this morning.

No, I am not taking part in NaNo this year. The very thought makes my head want to implode. (I've even been avoiding my usual rounds of agent/editor/writer blogs lately.) But cheers and good luck to those out there who are participating. It's only a little over 1,500 words/day. You can do it!

In other news, I have found myself feeling very privileged to be the mother of two such fine young men lately. I wouldn't even know where to start with singing their praises, and it's not always fun and games for me or for them, but they both make me very proud.

And if you wanna hear God laugh, tell Him your plans

2010-09-30T07:30:00.000-04:00

So, unless I'm buried by an avalanche of registration forms over the next couple of days, the writing class is off. Apparently I managed to find the wrong combination of class format and timing, or maybe there just wasn't as much interest as I thought in the middle school. I'm a little disappointed, but not crushed. I'm glad I at least made the attempt, because if I hadn't I'd always wonder and feel a little guilty for not making the effort. Now I know, and I can move on. Failure is God's way of saying, "Nice try, I appreciate the effort, but that's not exactly what I had in mind for you."

I am also taking a hiatus from writing. I'm not sure yet if I'm just burned out and need a long rest or if I have also reached the "Nice try, I appreciate the effort, but this is not exactly what I had in mind for you" point with writing. "The effort" in this case netted me 15 published stories, and I can definitely live with that. Maybe I just need to stop thinking in dollar signs and listen to that little voice that keeps telling me I'm a short story writer, not a novelist. I quit writing for a couple of years previously, and that hiatus also came about after I pushed myself to write novel-length instead of short. I do not yet have enough mental or emotional distance to think about that objectively, however, so I will go back to just saying "I'm on hiatus."

Fear not, I have plenty of (long-neglected) household projects to occupy my time!

I'm the same old trouble you've been having for years

2010-09-13T14:36:00.000-04:00

Just enough time for a quick update! (I hope.)

1. Adjusting to school is still in process. I'm guessing we'll be all settled in just in time for next summer.

2. The middle grade novel has been rested, re-opened, and heavily notated for revisions. Actual write-in of revisions is about 1/5 completed.

3. WORDS Writing Classes is officially open for registration. Flyers went out to the local 6th-8th grade today. I am both excited and nervous.

4. That weird noise I keep half-hearing is the dog snoring. No need to call the A/C repair guy after all. Whew.

Time to go be afternoon carpool driver. Hope everyone out there is doing well!

This road was paved by the winds of change

2010-08-29T10:20:00.000-04:00

Two weeks of the new school year under our belt. I've kind of felt bad for Michael, because all the fuss has been about Joey starting high school and sorting out all the NEW! and UNFAMILIAR! that goes along with that. Michael's in 7th grade this year and no longer has the shadow of the brother hanging over him. Whenever I ask him how school's going, is it different since he's a big shot this year, does he like the new P.E. teacher, etc., I get an "Eh. It's OK," and a Michael-shrug. (He gets his talent for small talk from me, apparently.) But he has stepped up and settled with relative ease into the role of latchkey kid for the hour or so while I'm making the afternoon carpool run for the older kids.

Joe is a freshman at an entirely new school this year. It's a 30 minute drive, but luckily we can carpool, since a couple of his friends are also going there. When I pick them up in the afternoon and ask THEM how school's going, I get plenty of answer--usually all the way home. As I mentioned already, there has been a somewhat exhausting amount of NEW! and UNFAMILIAR! to deal with, and there have been bumps. I keep reassuring Joe that he (and I) will survive.

I made a fill-in-the-holes revision pass to the middle grade novel, complete with the usual bout of "OMG, this sucks, what makes you think you can write?" But if I force myself to be objective (or as objective as a writer can ever be about their own work), I think it's... Well, what I think currently depends on the reading I've been doing and how well my work (seems to) stack up against that, the content of industry blogs I've just read, and the price of tea in China. In other words, I have no clue how viable it is right now. Which is why the ms is parked in a drawer for a much-needed objectivity rest.

I have spent more time fiddling with ideas for a middle school creative writing class that is a combination of online (for convenience, mine and the kids') and in-person (for increased motivation and fun). Honestly, I almost just let it slide. (The usual self-defeating voice in my head: "No one really cares if you do this or not. Won't it just be a lot of extra work?") But Joe has been hounding me about WHEN (not if) I'm starting a class, and a couple other former students have said they miss the class. (Although whether they miss the actual class or just the fact that we spent class time talking about books and movies and sometimes going out on the playground, I'm not sure.*) In any case, I had Joe do a test drive of a couple of pieces of the online portion this weekend. So there has been forward movement on that project, too.

And in my free time, I have... uh... I haven't had a ton of free time lately. Or rather, I've dumped what I've had into one of the above projects instead. But it balances out, since the ms is in a drawer now, and I'm not ready to start another creative project at the moment, so this week holds potential for other, non-writing things to happen. Who knows, maybe I'll actually get my laundry room cleaned out and new coat hooks put up before jacket season sets in.

*It was all in the interest of illustrating story structure and promoting inspiration, I swear. If your child was in my class, ask him/her to explain the purpose of the running "Squirrel!" joke in UP.

It's time to clear the air, you better save your breath

2010-08-15T21:53:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I've done an actual update on my activities. In part this is because every time I make a plan and post it here, it winds up changing. Which leads me to fear either that I appear indecisive or that I am jinxing my plans by stating them "out loud." In the interest of avoiding both, I'll stick to telling you what I have done and leave out what I (think I) plan to do next.

Writing-wise, I spent the last two or so weeks writing the first draft of a middle grade novel. It still needs work, but I think I like it. Crowmaker has begun nibbling at me again, as well. And in the midst of all the first drafting, I've had some deep thoughtful spells regarding the craft side of my writing, which may have helped in the completion of the middle grade first draft. And may help in the completion of future projects. We shall see.

The creative writing elective had to give way in the middle school schedule for other classes this year, so I will not be teaching that after all--at least not as an elective. I have done some fiddling with other possibilities, including something more online-based. Specifically, I have been playing around with Moodle to see what I can come up with. My main concern is less "Can I set up a course?" and more "How strongly can I motivate kids to actually keep up with it?" I have some ideas about that, as well. The whole scheme needs a little more sleeping-on-it time.

And in my free time, I watched meteor showers and learned a few stars and constellations (and even convinced my boys to join me a couple of times). And played several hands of Euchre vs. the computer while trying to think up things to write or waiting for kids to get shoes on or other things that required something to click while killing time. And read a lot of books. And watched some movies. And for reasons I cannot entirely explain, I started learning how to read Biblical Hebrew. (Maybe it has something to do with getting a kick from the expressions of mingled awe and befuddlement my family gives me.)

School starts tomorrow. As a mother, I am of course obligated to be as nervous on my children's behalf as they are for themselves. Although less nervous than I have been in the past because, honestly, they are both growing into responsible, competent, independent young men. And I am very proud of both of them.

You hung the moon in a big empty sky

2010-08-06T12:40:00.000-04:00

In partial response to one of yesterday's comments, I'd like to revisit the quote I used from Stephen King's short story, "The Body." Having been a King fan for something like 30 years, I tend to assume everyone realizes that this story was the basis for the movie Stand By Me. If you didn't know that, you do now. And if you haven't seen the movie, you may wish to do that also, because it is awesome whether you read the story or not. (The short story collection Different Seasons is where you'll find "The Body." You will find in that same collection "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption," upon which the movie The Shawshank Redemption was based. Again, if you haven't seen the movie, you're missing out.)

The line I used yesterday is just a snippet from the opening paragraph of "The Body," which I quoted because that one tiny bit seemed most pertinent to what I had to say. What I have on my fridge, however, is the entire opening paragraph of the story:

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them--words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.

The first time I read the story, that opening sentence paralyzed me. By the time I got to the end of the paragraph, I had tears in my eyes. I copied that paragraph word by word, longhand, into my journal*, like I was writing words of power into a magic spell book. It wasn't just the meaning of the words themselves that shook me, although King had put into words something I had, up until that moment, felt but found inexpressible. (I know you all know what I mean.) It was also the realization that at least one other human being understood how I felt, at least well enough to put it into words for a fictional character.

I could talk forever about the different layers of reasons this paragraph has meant so much to me over the years, because what I take from it has varied and continues to vary depending on what's on my mind or happening in my life. But the first thing it meant was that I wasn't alone. Back in those much younger days, that was huge.

The other huge thing was the crystallization of the understanding that words can be immensely powerful. And if I hadn't entirely realized yet that I wanted to be a writer, I did then.

I would love to hear if anyone else has a quote (or story or poem) that holds a similar place of importance in his or her life.

*I have been collecting quotes since before I had a refrigerator. Pre-refrigerator, I used a spiral notebook.

My will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter

2010-08-05T13:19:00.000-04:00

The writer's conundrum: Why, when I really DO want to write this story, when I actually KNOW what I want to write next, do I still catch myself stalling when it's time to sit down and actually write the words into the ms?

Yesterday's post over at Magical Words touched on this topic, specifically as it regards writing the ending of a story. But this happens to me off and on at every stage of a story. After pondering the question (which, as I'm sure you've all figured out, is a version of cat vacuuming, and one at which I am particularly adept), I have reached the conclusion that it's all about fear. (And ties fairly well into the linked post's item #3.) Or, to paraphrase a borrowed line from Field of Dreams:

If I write it, it might suck.

Which in turn ties back to one of my favorite refrigerator quotes*:

"...words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out." (From Stephen King's "The Body")

And that is the unspoken fear that creeps in and makes me feel more inclined to do laundry than write. (The lack of logic alone should tip me off that something is wrong.) Oddly enough, though, when I define and face down that fear, it turns into a reassurance:

If there is no humanly possible way for me to capture in words exactly what is in my head, then I am freed from the restrictions of trying to do so. Perfection is not a requirement.

And now I will take the reassurance reached via that convoluted line of reasoning and go finish my scene completion goals for the day.

*"Refrigerator quotes" being the slang used by family and at least one friend to refer to my habit of plastering clipped-out inspirational quotes all over my refrigerator.

Note: I have this nagging sense of having written this post in some form or another in the past. If so, then it must be pretty important to me! I'm not going to take the time to look it up, though, although I am still feeling the procrastinating urge strongly enough to be tempted.

In the desert in the dry, before the breaking of the rain

2010-07-16T19:04:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned on Facebook today, I dragged an old story draft out of the drawer for further consideration as a contender for publication. It's difficult sometimes to verbalize exactly what inspires me to make such moves, because inspiration for me is often less like a hurricane and more like a conspiracy of small breezes which eventually manage to catch my attention. In this case, the most recent nudges involved finally getting around to reading The Fire In Fiction after seeing Robin LaFevers endorse it, along with stumbling across a note I'd made to myself about a promising short story market which caused this story to leap to mind.

But the very first breeze (several months back) was a rejection letter. Oh joy. But rejection letters are not always A Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Thing. This particular letter (email, technically) came from the editor of IGMS and contained a personal note in addition to the usual form rejection wording--which is, oddly enough, always a very exciting thing to me, because writing personal notes in rejection letters is something not every editor can take the time to do for every letter. (Or so I hypothesize.) So if an editor does take the time to tell me something specific about my story, you damn well better believe I sit up and take notice.

In this case, what the editor had to say (paraphrased to avoid digging through email folders) was something like this: "You write beautifully, but this story is boring." (Actually, he elaborated more than that and gave me some specific examples of what he meant. Which was even more awesome.)

This tidbit of criticism came at a perfect time, because I had become somewhat obsessed with the minute details of my writing style. This editor made me remember that no matter how pretty my style becomes, I still have to TELL A STORY in an interesting manner. Which in turn reminded me that writing is a constant balancing act, because I do need to tell a story, but I do also still need to pay attention to the manner in which I'm writing it.

Which only goes to show that learning to write isn't something you do once and then you know how to do it. (At least not for me, and not for any of the many writers whose blogs I follow, so I will profess that this is a universal conundrum.) For me it's been like a long, slow spiral, where I focus on strengthening different elements of my writing in turn--characterization, setting and atmosphere, plot, style--and then back around to each in turn again. I gradually internalize at least part of what I'm putting into practice and then tighten my focus even more the next time I come around to an element, building on what I've internalized and understanding more than I did the first time I passed through--or at least reminding myself of things I'd thought I understood but managed to forget. And then I do it again. And again. And again.

With hopefully a whole lot more again's to go, because I am so not tired of this writing thing just yet.

When the hitman comes, he knows damn well he has been cheated

2010-06-25T19:14:00.000-04:00

I am officially in full summer mode--I can barely keep track of what day it is, let alone tell you what I accomplished or did not accomplish over the last week. At least, not without thinking about it really hard. And I am going to pass on that.

I can tell you that the house is mostly clean, the laundry mostly caught up, and the kitchen well-stocked enough to prevent starvation. We have taken walks, sat on the back deck and read or talked, played cards, played Rock Band, and just generally enjoyed each others' company while also finding time to go off and do our own individual things. The whole "late to bed, late to rise" thing is kinda nice, too. I know I'll pay for it when I have to readjust in August, but right now, I just don't care.

On the writing front, I am making no plans. No outlines. No word count meters. I'm trying to put in at least a couple of hours a day toward doing something writing-related, but that's the limit of my goals for now. What I have been doing is working on Crowmaker. In a very laid-back, roundabout, no pressure kind of way. Vincent suggested another song for his playlist today. I have been reading up on assorted, semi-related historical topics as it strikes my fancy. I have written the skeletons of a couple of new scenes. But that's all I'm going to say about that, for fear of scaring off the muse.

In the meantime, I am steadfastly refusing to think beyond the end of June.

We're all okay, until the day we're not

2010-06-13T19:44:00.000-04:00

The week in review:

I don't feel like I accomplished a great deal, at least from a tangible perspective. (In other words, you can't tell I've done much just by looking at the state of my house. Although honestly, just keeping dishes and laundry caught up is a feat unto itself. And the summer version of grocery shopping, oh God.) But I did get my closet cleaned out. And my piano bench, which was just about as cluttered. And I figured out a couple more details about how I might like to set up the after school writing club(s) I might like to set up next school year. And while my original plan was to look over some short fiction and see what could be done with it, my fictional version of Tenskwatawa* popped his head into my brain and informed me that he knew how to fix Crowmaker. Or at least part of it. I didn't keep track of word count, but I did some fiddling with his ideas, and they seem to be working. I guess they didn't call him The Prophet for nothing.

As for the week ahead... Y'know, I don't know. Obviously, I have several writing-related things I could work on. And a list of household stuff that we could do. But as to exactly what we'll do and when? I think we'll just play it by ear. Chill, Lori. It's summer.

*You can Google to get a basic idea who he was, but after the research I've done on him, his brother, and that historical period in general, I can only add that you should take everything you read online with a grain of salt. It's also highly likely that I have such a solid vision of my fictional version of the man that even reading proven facts might cause me to grind my teeth if they didn't match up with what MY Tens is like. And of course there's always the "history is written by the victors" aspect, too.

Peace and harmony don't come in packages with bows

2010-06-06T11:28:00.002-04:00

Week in review:

Big package of peace and harmony, accompanied by a little writing, a little reading, and a resurgence in my interest in piano. Also perhaps some playing of video games. By Thursday or so I could feel a hint of restless start to creep in, along with the growing urge to plan something. Organize something. Accomplish something. I managed to put it off by telling it we could start a fresh work week on Monday morning.

The guys arrived home yesterday morning, along with a lot of dirty laundry, sun tanned necks and arms, and fish stories. I am happy to have them home, but I am finding that my previously rested and ready to work brain is feeling all muddled and tired again. Once my senses have readjusted to the company of others, I'm sure I'll be back into plotting and planning mode again.

Looking ahead:

Assorted housekeeping to be done, along with a trip to the library to meet Joey's request to start reading The Dark Tower series. (Assuming they have a copy of The Gunslinger. I have all the rest of the series, I think, so I may just have to buy that one, too. Maybe I'll have to reread along behind him. I never finished the series, because I took a years-long break in the middle of it and could just not get back into it after that. Or maybe, given my mixed reaction to The Dome, I'm just over King.) And both boys have requested to have their buddies over for airsoft, music playing, video games, and clearing out the fridge and pantry of all snack-like foodstuffs, so we'll have to set that up.

Somewhere in all that, I need to get my personal "work hours" set up, so that I can focus on the Big Plans for Writing Classes and Finishing Some Short Fiction. I think once the boys and I are home a few days and fall into a summer daily routine, I will feel more settled once again.

In the meantime: Fishing trip pictures!

And also, it has come to my attention that while I posted this announcement on Facebook, I neglected to mention it here. The Four Horsemen anthology has been released! (OK, technically it's been out for over a month now. I can't believe I forgot to post the news here.)

Incidentally, anyone here who wants to look me up on Facebook can find me as Lori Rosenbalm Erickson.

We face the dark 'til we see the light

2010-06-01T20:43:00.000-04:00

I told myself that June 1 would be a good day to dust off the blog, give it a fresh new look, and start posting again. So here I am!

We have survived the end of the school year, I am now the mother of a high school freshman and a 7th grade student who has less than a year left before he becomes a full-fledged teen, too, and all the assorted men in my life are off together on a week-long fishing trip. This has left me with Avie and a whole lot of peace, quiet, and privacy in which to find my center and reassess the state of my writing career, such as it is.

My stint with Extended Care is over. I have enjoyed working with preschool and kindergarten kids, and I do not regret having taken on that job over the past year. However, I also think I made a good call in deciding to not continue with that job in the future. As I may have mentioned previously, I am a serious introvert. As in, I score at or close to 100% on the introvert side of the scale anytime I've tested for it. And since an introvert's energy is drained by being around other people, and young children tend to be the drainingest drainers that walk the earth, that particular job on a day to day basis is probably not healthy for me in the long run.

I also enjoyed the time I spent teaching the creative writing elective at the middle school. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to stand at the center of attention in the front of a classroom for 45 minutes a week and think of interesting, educational things to say to a bunch of 6th-8th grade students without shriveling up and dying. I am, however, still kicking. Not everything went as I'd hoped, but I learned a lot about teaching in general and about how to draw and hold the interest of that age group. I've put together a general plan for next year's elective that hopefully successfully incorporates all those things I learned. I also have tentative plans to start an after school writing club or two, but I'd like to wait until after the school year starts before making decisions or seeking school approval for that. And I have all summer to think through the details.

On the writing front, I have not done a whole awful lot of actual writing since my last post here. I have, however, done a lot of reading, because reading counts as writing work but requires less mental effort than coming up with my own words. Crowmaker is... something. A longer draft than I had previously, but still not coming together in quite the way I'd envisioned. I'm going to let it sit a while longer, I believe, let it breathe and ferment and not try to force it. If it takes me years more before I manage to figure out what it takes to make that story work, then so be it. In the meantime, I have a handful of flash and short stories in assorted stages of development, including some really rough drafts I've scribbled down as they've come at me. I'm not forcing myself to do anything this week, because it is my vacation, damn it, and I've earned it. I can feel all the little pieces of my brain and creative energy settling back into a comfortable pattern, so I'm going to let it settle. But I think those short pieces will be at the top of my list of writing stuff to work on over the summer.

So, in summary: Vacation. To be followed by The Return of the Children and Decisions About What We're Doing This Summer, in conjunction with Big Plans for Writing Classes and Finishing Some Short Fiction. Sounds like enough of a plan to be comfortable, but not so much plan that it threatens to overwhelm.

Hearts are fragile toys so easy to forget

2010-04-14T10:48:00.002-04:00

A quick note of the update variety from my inbox today:

Dear contributing authors of The Four Horsemen: An Anthology of Conquest, War, Horror and Death:

I am thrilled to let you know that The Four Horsemen: An Anthology of Conquest, War, Horror and Death has been sent to the printer. It should be available for purchase online within the next couple of weeks.

The anthology will be available in soft cover AND (for the first time from Pill Hill Press, I believe) hard cover.

I'm looking for a complication

2010-03-30T20:42:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I know. Just as soon as I say I won't be here much for a while...

But Editorial Ass is having a giveaway contest to celebrate her 500,000th hit--a first 20 pages crit! I don't know that I have 20 pages polished enough to show anyone on Crowmaker yet, but I figured I'd spread the word anyhow.

If you never owed them anything

2010-03-29T23:08:00.000-04:00

I live!

In the interest of keeping this short, a brief recap of the last two weeks:

The allergy/asthma/bronchitis thing seems to be better. OTC Zyrtec and a zap of Proventil when needed, which has been maybe twice in the last two weeks. I can live with this.

Spring cleaning. Lots of it. Two weeks' worth, as a matter of fact. Yay for two strong boys to help. And a school with a really big recycling bin.

Writer's math: Completed percentage of estimated total word count = 74%. Completed percentage of estimated total scenes in my outline = 63%. (I'll spare you the convoluted calculations used to arrive at those percentages.) However, clearly 74% =/= 63%. Analysis? Probably have a longer ms on my hands than I initially thought. (Good thing I poured all that cash into an accounting degree so I could figure that out.)

I will probably be scarce around here for a couple of months. April and May are shaping up to be busy on the school front, and I am feeling the serious urge to just dig a hole and spend as much time as I can on Crowmaker. (I say that now. As soon as I go back to it after this short blogging break, I'll be ready to give up. Until the characters kick in and starting giving me directions again. At which point, I'll get interrupted as soon as I get on a roll. Because that's just how that works, y'know.)

I still have an email address, however! I welcome waves and updates anytime.

Miles away from those I love, purpose hard to find

2010-03-13T19:54:00.000-05:00

The week in review:

Uh. There was a week. I'm sure of it. And stuff must've happened. See, this is why I keep a time-tracking journal--so I don't start feeling like I'm accomplishing nothing, when in fact I am accomplishing quite a damn lot.

In the writing world, I am caught up on my 2YN assignments, despite hemming and hawing and trying to talk myself out of doing them each week. I taught my class, and while the enthusiasm for one of the exercises I had them do was lackluster at best, we had a decent discussion toward the end of class about the difference between showing and telling. And the high point of my youngest son pointing out that the phrase I had just used was a simile, not a metaphor. Silly teacher. More rough draft happened for Crowmaker, and I am now in a research phase for the next set of scenes. I also got smacked upside the head with an idea for a middle grade novel. It's a very fully-formed idea, so I may work on it a little once I've checked off my daily list for Crowmaker.

Health-wise, I'm not exactly sure what's going on. The meds I mentioned last entry did wind up helping--or at least the steroids did. As soon as the stepped dosage stepped down to about three a day, I could feel all the good breathing I'd had start to come undone, until I felt as bad as I had before by the time the cycle of meds was complete. Yet a doctor's appointment Tuesday gave me a clean pulmonary test--it was hugely improved from the week before. Chest x-ray showed my lungs look good. Blood test for allergies came back negative on the specific allergens they tested for, but high overall, which indicates I'm having an allergic reaction to something--we just haven't determined what yet. They're supposed to be setting me up with an allergist. I am beginning to be highly frustrated by getting so easily winded doing little things I should not be winded from doing. Like carrying a basket of laundry from one room to the next. Seriously.

The week ahead:

Last week of school before spring break! I have a list of cleaning and clutter-reduction jobs for the boys and I to work on starting next weekend. Here's hoping I'm feeling well enough to get them tackled, because the clutter is really starting to bug me. And I would so like to get things cleaned up well enough to do some more room painting this spring. My plan is to take a break from writing the entire week of spring break. This week I will focus on getting through the current research phase of Crowmaker so things are all tidy and ready to go when I get back to it after spring break. I will also put together my next lesson plan for my class and do this week's 2YN assignment. If there's time, I'll fiddle some more with the middle grade idea, too.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

I got some money in my pocket, I got the alligator shoes

2010-03-03T21:45:00.000-05:00

You may recall that last week, I struggled with a snooze-worthy scene and how to make it less snooze-worthy. I wrapped up the week having written four scenes for that particular sequence of events. Over the weekend, I concluded that all four of those scenes would put me to sleep, particularly if I encountered them that early on in a novel. Furthermore, I don't think I really need them. I have scooted the entire sequence into my scratchpad at the end of the ms and spent most of this week regrouping and finding my new direction. All right, yes. There was also a minor bout of the familiar "you suck, just give it up now" game. Game over, I win. There will be no quitting just yet. (Confidence, or sheer stupid stubbornness? I have no idea.)

Over the weekend (once I came down from my euphoric mother moment), I also reached the conclusion that I should really not be having so much difficulty breathing, no matter how out of shape I may be. A trip to the doctor yesterday netted me a diagnosis of asthmatic bronchitis and prescriptions for an antibiotic, a steroid, and an inhaler. I'm not sure I feel terribly better overall just yet, but there have been patches of betterness. I think. I'll keep you posted.

Least I don't need to beg or borrow

2010-02-27T15:30:00.000-05:00

Roncalli High School Quest for Excellence Competition
U.S. History Category
First Place: Joey Erickson

When the boys were little, we used to share thumbs-up on everything. They could see a thumbs-up from a distance without me having to shout and embarrass them. It was a clear visual signal that everything was all right, that I was proud of them for their accomplishment or that I had confidence they could handle whatever difficult undertaking they were facing. Make it to the end of the block without your training wheels? Thumbs up! Place well in the spelling bee? Thumbs up! Standing nervously on the stage waiting for the Christmas program to start? Encouraging thumbs up!

We don't use the thumbs up so much anymore. They're too big and mature for such silly things. But today?

Today I got a thumbs up from across a crowded gym. And then when the awards ceremony was over, I got a hug. In public. And when I said, "I'm so proud of you," he replied, "Thanks for the study guide, Mom." It was one of those full circle moments you get once in a rare while that allows you to believe that maybe you've done an OK job as a parent after all.

And all that you hope to be

2010-02-23T09:26:00.000-05:00

That scene I mentioned last entry? I have scrapped it entirely. OK, no, not scrapped entirely. I copied it into the scratchpad section of my document, because there are bits of scenery and character description that I can likely make use of, if nothing else. But I woke up yesterday thinking how boring this scene and the next planned one were, and how I wished I could just get on to the one after that instead.

Uh. Here's a clue, Lori. If you feel that way, then maybe, just maybe, you should consider skipping this scene and the next and going to the one that matters. So I took another look at what I wanted to accomplish with the two snooze scenes and determined that I could accomplish the same things if I meshed them into the more exciting scene. AND I don't risk slacking up on the pacing of the story at this early point where I probably should not yet be slacking up on the pacing of the story.

So yeah. Now I just need to do the work. Yesterday was a bust, in part because other things demanded my attention, but also in part because I was having a fuzzy brain day. I am having a fuzzy brain day today, too. Hence the blog post--I'm trying to wake myself up, remember how to string words into sentences, and convince myself that I want to wake up and string words into sentences.

The non-writing stuff that kept me busy yesterday consisted, aside from my afternoon stint working at school, of taking Joe to register for his freshman classes in the morning and then spending a couple of hours at evening meetings to go over field trips for Michael's 6th grade class and Joe's 8th grade class. And to discuss 8th grade graduation, which is a big deal in these parts because St. Rose only goes through 8th grade, and the students then depart for a variety of high schools, depending on where they live and/or whether they enroll at one of the Catholic high schools.

One of the things they do at the graduation reception is a slide show of photos of the graduating class as they grow up. I started going through pictures last night. I may be in a funk of motherly sentimentality for a few days. It's a bittersweet, wistful sort of experience. I should be used to the feeling by now, but I kinda figure I never will be.

Think I have about sixty miles of gasoline left in my car

2010-02-21T21:26:00.000-05:00

Research for the next group of scenes has been accomplished, and that should be the biggest part of the research overall, save for some inevitable smidges along the way. (Knock wood.) I have begun writing the next scene and am probably about halfway through it. But I stopped because there are a couple of fiddly details that are not sitting right with me. The right characters are in the scene. They are behaving as they should be (mostly) and the necessary relationships and setting details are being revealed. But these little fiddly details are bugging me. I think I have decided to push ahead and finish the scene anyhow, with the resolve to mull over what needs to change about the little fiddly details--because I know at this point that they need to be different, but I do not yet know what they need to be instead of what they currently are.

I also need to tweak the behavior of one of the characters, because I am not quite capturing who he is. And I do need to nail that before I go on, or I will be floundering in every scene after this one.

Any writing is good, as long as it's taking me somewhere. Right?

You know love's a funny thing, you just gotta let it be

2010-02-17T21:36:00.000-05:00

It didn't take me until the end of the week to hit the 30,000 word mark after all. I pretty much had it Monday night and then just finished up the scene I was working on Tuesday morning. At which point I realized I needed to move into a different character's head, as well as a different physical setting. At which point I freaked out a little: "OMG, I don't know enough about this setting. I can't write it believably enough. I'll never be able to make it convincing! I should just quit now!"

I can be pretty dense like that sometimes. I have since remembered that a) I didn't know enough about the other two time periods/settings/historical characters/cultures I've written scenes in before I researched them, either, and I think those scenes turned out reasonably well. And b) Um, that's what that stack of books over there is for. To READ before you try to write these next scenes, remember? It's called RESEARCH?

I have always gotten very easily fixated on word count and daily production of it. My agreement with myself on Crowmaker was that I would try a different approach this time: I did the basic, absolutely necessary research before and during outlining. I will do the nitty gritty, need-the-details-please research as I write the draft. This necessitates relaxing my stranglehold on the word count tracker, because it takes time to do the research before I can write the scenes. Which is, y'know, what I've been doing. I just sort of got all caught up in the excitement of watching that little bar grow, I guess.

That, and I want to get this next part written so I can get back to the two characters I have to leave in limbo while I switch to these other characters. I'm going to take that as a good sign. Even better will be if by the time I get to the end of these scenes, I don't want to leave these new characters, either.

It's like falling backwards into no one's arms

2010-02-14T11:52:00.000-05:00

We had no school Monday, because Archbishop Buechlein gave all Catholic schools in the archdiocese a free day to show support for the hard work and leadership of the Colts. (We have to make it up on President's Day instead of having that day off, so... yeah. It was a nice thought, I suppose.)

We had no school Tuesday or Wednesday, because most of the state was under a winter storm warning. We didn't really have all that much snow, at least not as compared to what I remember us getting when I was a kid in northern Illinois. But apparently there was much blowing and drifting in the outlying areas. And hey, who am I to argue with a day off? (Although again, I hesitate to call them "free" days, because you know they're coming out of future days off at some point.)

And then we had an early dismissal day on Friday. Although I did work for about an hour and a half. But, y'know, considering I didn't work at all on my usual days of Monday and Wednesday, I cannot complain.

Joey's buddy Matt has been here since yesterday afternoon, and the three boys are currently romping around upstairs. I think they think they're getting dressed to go outside for an airsoft fight. But I also think that given the rate of distraction and goofing off I hear, they're actually getting dressed so that Matt will be ready just in time for his parents to pick him up in 45 minutes. (Side note: What I love about Matt--about Joe and all of his friends, really--is that they always include Michael in what they're doing. If Michael wanders off for some alone time, they will even come looking for him. I suppose some parents might worry that Michael never asks to have any of his friends over, but... Joey and his friends ARE Michael's friends. He has other people he hangs out with at school, but given a choice of who to ask over, he opts for whomever Joe is asking over.)

Work accomplished this week:

I taught class on Thursday (the ONLY full school day of the week). We talked about story premise, looked for it in books and movies we know and love, and recalled fondly the in-class group story premise brainstorming exercises we've done in the past. (I have been told, repeatedly, that it was the best class session ever. If I let them choose what we do, I think that's all we'd do.)
I have prepared my lesson plan for next week's class. Funny how it's always easier when the kids have participated enthusiastically the class before.
I have completed this week's assignment for the 2YN class over at Forward Motion. I was kinda bleh about this one, since I'm already 99.9% positive what point of view I'll be using. But it was cool to revisit these characters after not thinking about them for years. Except whenever I hear Boston's "A Man I'll Never Be," which has been Zaras's theme song for as long as I can remember. Y'know, it's possible the song even helped give birth to him, now that I think about it.
The early part of the week was heavily loaded with research reading for Crowmaker before falling into a pattern of somewhat lighter research and scene design/preparation followed by actual writing of the scene in question. As of this morning, I have completed three scenes to the tune of 5,750 words total for the week. I have a fourth scene researched and prepped and will hopefully get at least some of it drafted today or tonight. I am pleased with this progress. By the end of next week, if all goes as planned, I should have 1/3 of a novel. This also pleases me.

Sure make a hell of a car

2010-02-11T00:32:00.000-05:00

By the way of brief explanation, so that I don't sound like a complete wacko to any of my non-writing friends, when I work up characters for a story (or anything else), I start with your basic information about them--what they look like, what they do for a living, what kinds of things I have in mind for them to do in the story (so that they will be the kind of person who would believably do such a thing), etc. And I continue to fiddle with their bios as I plan the story, adding stuff as it comes up. And at some point, they "show up," more or less like I've summoned them by the magic ritual of writing down the facts of their fictional existence. I like when that happens. It makes the whole writing business so much easier.

At any rate. I was fiddling with some technical details a few days ago, trying to come up with a fictional title for a fictional rank in a fictional outfit of gunfighters/security guards/organized mercenaries. Mr. Vincent Bradley is a member of this unnamed rank, and he hadn't had a word to say to me yet.

Got out the thesaurus. Started writing down possibilities: regulators, enforcers, implementors, administrators...

Pause. Snicker. Tools...

You bitch.

And not only did I hear him call me that, but I could hear him do this awesome little laugh-snort along with it.

Next day, hubby is cooking and has AC/DC cranked up. I am not overly fond of AC/DC. But as I walk through the kitchen, I hear Mr. Vincent Bradley's voice in my head once again.

That's my kind of music. You're gonna need that on your soundtrack.

And then he smirked at me. And he's grinning right now. Apparently, he can really turn on the charm when he likes. And yet there are those cold eyes, still, reassuring me that he is capable of gunning down any idiot who gets in his way.

Hello, Mr. Bradley. Why yes, we should get to your scenes very soon now. Just put the weapons away and try not to wear anything out with your impatient pacing.

And I get scared but I'm not crawling on my knees

2010-02-09T21:54:00.002-05:00

I told myself I could not blog until I'd finished the scene I intended to write today. But it's at nearly 2,000 words and still not over yet, so in the interest of giving myself a breather, here I am.

Nearly 2,000 words is actually right about 1,750, and honestly, I wasn't sure I'd get more than 10 when I started out this morning. I have researched everything in this scene that needed to be researched. And then some. I knew what needed to be written--I've been seeing bits and pieces of the scene for days now. I even knew the first line. The scene was THERE. I was READY.

And I just could not get myself to sit down with it this morning. OK, granted, the morning started with getting up at 7am, checking email to find out that school was canceled for the day, and sending everyone back to bed, myself included. So it was 10 before I got back out of bed, got dressed, had some breakfast, and even attempted to wander back to my desk. But as soon as I sat down... Stage fright. That's what it was like. This is the first big scene of the book--everything else I've written so far will eventually be incorporated later in the story. This will be the scene that has those magic first five pages. This is the scene that launches all those later scenes. And I think I just let myself over think it.

But no. I don't think I over thought it. I believe the amount of planning and research I've put into it was absolutely necessary. So it wasn't over thinking so much as just forgetting to turn off the thinking and planning portion of my brain and turn on the part that takes all those facts and structures and makes magic with them. So yeah. We're back to stage fright. The scene is so big and so clear in my mind that I was afraid I could never do it justice.

At which point, once I'd realized I was falling into that trap again, I was able to remind myself that no scene EVER comes out as perfectly on paper as it appears in your head. But it sure as hell comes out a lot clearer than if you never write it at all. So I took some deep breaths and put on my Crowmaker soundtrack. And once I sat down and forced myself through the first sentence and then the first paragraph, it got easier. Like it always does. And it started flowing. Like it always does. And the muse handed me some lovely poetic bits crafted from hard-earned research facts. Like it always does.

Someday it will take me less than two hours to talk myself into remembering how this always works. Someday.

But in the meantime, yes. Almost 2,000 words on today's scene. If you average it out over the research time I put in on Friday, that's still almost 1,000 words/day, and I don't count myself done for the day just yet. I can live with that, I believe.

Edit: Final word count on the scene, as of 12:30am, was 2,750. Whew.

Don't need much, just enough to get me through

2010-02-07T20:22:00.012-05:00

Let's see. Friday was library and research reading day, followed in the evening by the much-touted annual Punk-N-Rock show at the middle school. Sixth grade serves as stage crew, so Michael got to wear black and hop around backstage. He also got to catch a wheelchair after it was flung down the stage ramp as part of one of the skits. This was Joe's last year, since he's on to high school next year, and his entire class (yeah, all seven of them) looked so relaxed and like they were having a ton of fun up there, which made every skit they were in all that much more fun for those of us in the audience. They did covers of everything from the Hee Haw gloom and agony song to "Crazy Train" to Veggie Tales to "Love is a Battlefield" to Jonathan Coulter (plus a whole bunch more I just can't think of right now). I will follow up with pictures and perhaps video when we get the dvd we ordered, but my own camera sucks, so for now I will simply assure you that Joe made an awesome Bob the Tomato.

Yesterday's writing time was devoted to putting together next week's lesson plan, and today's was spent on the 2YN class I signed up for over at Forward Motion. I've been wavering on how badly I really need to be working on another project right now. But so far, the time spent on it each week hasn't been overwhelming, possibly because so far it's much resembled the process I already put myself through. Which also makes me question how badly I need to be in the class. But I keep telling myself it's not about learning an entirely new writing process at this point. It's about picking up little bits and pieces of other people's processes that I might incorporate to strengthen my own process.

And honestly, it's also about walking through the process with other people. Because let's face it, writing is pretty quiet work, even for a seriously introverted introvert like me. And since I gave up WoW, it's kinda nice to have other online "voices" around once in a while. So hello to any fellow 2YN participants who happen to wander through! Feel free to say hello. I promise I won't yell and chase you out of my yard.

Hey satellite man your time has come

2010-02-04T19:49:00.011-05:00

Today's productivity countdown:

Hauled not only children, but also drum kit, to school this morning. The drum kit will be used for mass tomorrow morning, and for the annual middle school lip sync/skits/musical production tomorrow night. (Unless winter unloads on us. Then we'll have to see.)
Supervised the crew of 8th grade boys who unloaded the drums, which involves such difficult feats as asking them to NOT beat on the drums INSIDE the school, please, and reminding them that yes, they do need to go back to class now that the kit is stowed safely on the stage.
Confiscated the guitar amp that somehow made its way into the trunk with the electric guitar, because I'm pretty sure Mrs. B. only wants the guitars for props, not for actual loudness. (I'm sorry, I can't help it. I haven't been able to use that word without picturing that band since the 80's. Seriously.)
Made a quick restocking run to the grocery store because have I mentioned lately that the boys are bottomless pits?
Spent six--SIX--blissful hours working on Crowmaker, either rough draft or research. You will notice that my progress bar now stands at 20,000 words. That's 20% of a draft. I am mildly psyched. New word production will likely fall off for a few days now, since I need to pause for some more research before embarking on the next scenes.
Picked up the boys from after school dress rehearsal, coached them through getting a couple of quick pieces of homework done, and herded them off to take showers. They had pizza after rehearsal, so I didn't even have to cook supper tonight! Any night without cooking is a good night.
And it's still only 8:30. I could conceivably get a good chunk of research done yet tonight.

Same old line you used to use before

2010-02-03T22:11:00.005-05:00

Whew.

I have spent almost every appreciable chunk of free time over the last couple of days... sleeping. Killer cold really knocked me for a loop, so I followed a pattern of take kids to school, set alarm and sleep until last possible second, get up for work, come home and nap until supper, go to bed as early as possible after supper, rinse lather repeat. So yeah, pretty much sucked for writing. But I seem to have broken the worst of the cold. (Serious, SERIOUS knocking of wood, here.) And I was clear-headed enough to crank out some word count tonight.

I might be back. I just hope I haven't slept so much that I won't be able to sleep tonight and will wind up sick again.

Tonight, I finished up the last scene of a sort of story within the story. I wrote said story within the story before starting on the main story because I needed to know what happens in that story in order to figure out some of the things that happen in the main story. Now I need to write up some backstory stuff in order to figure out some other things that happen in the main story.

And I'm just not thinking any further ahead than that right now. The outline is there, the story is there, so I'll just focus on this piece of the bigger picture and refuse to be overwhelmed.

A warning to the people, the good and the evil

2010-01-31T17:58:00.005-05:00

I knew that if I waited long enough, Falconesse would post about the most recent Amazon fiasco with much more clarity and coherence than I can. Amazon is quickly working its way onto my short list of big companies I abhor doing business with. (Walmart having snagged the top spot some time ago.) Not that me pulling the measly amount of business I send their way each year will hurt them much. But damn. I am also adding my hopes that Macmillan will tell Amazon what they can do with their bullying little stunt.

On the street where you live, girls talk about their social lives

2010-01-30T23:15:00.005-05:00

For those of you who pay attention to such things, a progress meter has reappeared over in the sidebar for Crowmaker. No, I do not recall how many times I have supposedly written a draft of this story. Yes, I am hopeful that I will really wind up with a real first draft this time. Cross your fingers, knock wood, all that jazz.

If you are paying attention, you may also have noticed that I started this draft last Saturday and have officially hit 15,000 words. That averages out to almost 2,000 words/day. That's a reasonably blazing fast speed for me. I feel obliged to point out, however, that I have been working on this story off and on for nearly two years. And even when not actually working on it, I have been dreaming about it. And I just spent the better part of the last two months outlining the hell out of this story. It had damn well better be just about falling off my fingertips.

Having said that, I'll be switching time periods and character viewpoints sometime in the next week or so. I also have some upcoming family obligations/events that will cut into my writing time. So I don't anticipate continuing at quite as breakneck a pace. But it's nice to watch that progress meter jumping ahead while it lasts.

They'll make you cry, baby, and then blame it on you

2010-01-24T19:19:00.006-05:00

Meet Avie:

OK, so most of you have already met Avie. Which means you have heard about her amazing vocabulary skills, which require us to spell such words as "eat," "treat," "snack," "Chex," "lunch," "cheese," and "walk." (You can guess, based on the ratio of food words to exercise words, just which way the scale wavers when she visits the vet. The rapt expression on her lovely face in this photo, by the way, is the result of one of the boys holding a treat over her head while I took the shot.)

My husband enjoys cooking. Which works out well, since I do not. He does have a tendency to drop things while he's working, however--shreds of cheese, snippets of meat he's cutting up, chunks of potatoes he's dicing, etc. These moments of droppage are invariably accompanied by the phrase, "Oh, shit."

Now put those two stories together. Go ahead, I'll wait while you sort it out.

...

Yeah-huh. Avie will now respond with great enthusiasm if you utter the magic words "Oh, shit."

Pick yourself up, get yourself moving

2010-01-19T19:51:00.007-05:00

Early dismissal on Friday, a three day weekend, and no work for me today. We kicked this week off with a very exciting weekend of listening to Joe and Michael and two buddies romp through the house. One of them wandered too close to the main road behind our house with an airsoft gun and attracted the attention of a police officer who just happened by at the same moment, so there were a few tense moments there. The officer was very good-natured, though, and remarked that if he weren't on duty, he'd like to join in the fun. All in all, the boys are all pretty well-behaved and self-sufficient, so I was still able to get quite a bit of work done, including our household budget.

I also wrapped up a reasonably complete outline for Crowmaker, or at least complete enough that I feel prepared to move on to the actual writing. Well, sort of. The story is leaning heavily toward alternate history, or at least has one foot in the genre. I've decided to write the first draft in chronological and general setting order of the scenes, and to do the heaviest of my research as I work. Mind you, I've already done a great deal of research. But I think if I really dive into period details and then write the scenes specifically related to that period, I'll stand a better chance of really feeling the setting as I write.

At any rate, that's the plan for now. That being the case, today involved a trip to the library and a stack-o-books to be consumed. Thereafter, it involved several hours of snuggling in a big chair with a dog and a book. Man, what a rough schedule.

A life you don't live is still lost

2010-01-16T18:52:00.015-05:00

The first week back to school and work following winter break felt much like being hit by a bus. Repeatedly. This was due at least in part to me overestimating what I could accomplish during my "free" time. I pried my fingers loose from the goals I'd set, took several deep breaths, and reminded myself that I wasn't on my new work schedule just yet, so I wasn't going to get that much work done for myself for another couple weeks. This week was mostly a transition period between my previous 25 hours/week with the kindergarten/preschool crowd to my 10 hours/week schedule which will officially start next week. It also involved the usual smattering of dentist, orthodontist, and other appointments. And on Friday I got to play roadie for Joey, as we hauled his drums in to church so he could play with the pianist and choir for an all-school mass. I overheard a couple of teachers plotting to get him back for a repeat performance sometime, so I think he did well. (I thought he was awesome, of course, but we all know how objective mothers are about such things.)

My primary projects for 2010 are Crowmaker, the 2YN class over at Forward Motion, and my Fiction Writing elective over at the middle school. Actually, with the priorities in the reverse order, pretty much. If anything happens with the novella I finished and subbed late in 2009, I'll probably shuffle Crowmaker off to the side and work on a follow-up project for that same publisher. But that's a big "if," so I'm not counting on it.

The way electives are set up over at the middle school, the kids have the option to switch to a different offering mid-year. No one in my first semester class opted to leave. I got five new students, all of whom seem as enthusiastic thus far as my initial group. Our first class of the second semester, I gave my pep talk which is summed up with "No attempt at writing a story is a waste of time if you learned something from it." Then I asked my first semester students, even if they hadn't quite finished their story or weren't completely happy with how it turned out, did they feel like they knew more about writing than they had at the beginning of the school year? I got a big round of enthusiastic nods in reply. I am pleased, and my motivation is renewed.

But I'm too young to worry

2010-01-03T20:25:00.003-05:00

Today's blog title is dedicated to Jimmy Owen Sullivan, because Joey is seriously bummed about the death of a drummer whose style and technique he admired. And hey, I kinda like some of Avenged Sevenfold's stuff, too. And just because it's always pretty sucky when someone that young dies.

Tomorrow is back to school and work day. I knew winter break would go by too fast. I was right. I have organized myself and set some writing goals for 2010. With some trepidation, I've signed on for the Two Year Novel course at the Forward Motion Writers' Community. I tried telling myself I didn't need any additional projects, but myself kept answering with that niggly little "but I really think you need to do this" tickle in my gut. So I caved and signed on. I do usually learn a lot by trying out other writers' processes, and the community in general seems like a decent group of folks.

And to kick off 2010, I have sold a story. "On A Black Horse" will appear in the anthology The Four Horsemen from Pill Hill Press. That was another case of the niggly little tickle, that time inspiring me to dig out an old almost-story and turn it into a real story because it seemed like it would fit so perfectly in that call for submissions. Thank you, niggly little tickle.

I know there's a balance, I see it when I swing past

2009-12-29T21:31:00.016-05:00

It's funny, because I picked out this entry's title and then peeked at my first 2009 entry to ground myself in where I was a year or so ago before I attempted to write this entry. And lo and behold...

"The key word for 2009, I think, will be "balance." I will continue to hold a good balance between time for family and time for writing and time for just me. In my writing, I will continue to seek that elusive balance between doing the smart things I need to do to pursue a career, and doing what I want to do because I love it."

Overall, I think I mostly succeeded at that goal of balance. Oh, I had my off days (weeks, months...), but looking back, I feel mostly good about the last 12 months. Some highlights:

Zero stories sold. BUT. I started three new short stories (two of which were flash pieces), three novels, and a novella. I finished one of each, got a nibble and subsequent rejection on the novel, and got the short and the novella out into submission-land. The novel has been trunked because it was written specifically for a single market, but I learned a LOT from its writing, so I call it a success nonetheless. And I still have the three stories I finished in 2008 out there, too, although I have one back in my court and a second that probably is even though I never got a formal rejection from its most recent submission. Possibly I should take a few days at the start of 2010 and re-evaluate both of those.

I also pitched and landed a gig teaching a fiction writing elective at the boys' middle school. And then spent a part-time job's worth of hours putting together lesson plans in addition to the 45 minutes a week actually teaching the class. My students all seem to really enjoy the class, we've had some great discussions, and most of them have turned in some reasonably workable bits of writing. Sometime in the next couple of months, I suppose I should give some attention to determining if I'll offer to teach the course next year, as well as whether I might offer some classes outside school hours. I need to do some thinking about the time I'd need to put in vs. the time I'll have available, since Joe starts high school next year (!) and our schedule will be changing to accommodate treks to two different schools each day.

In the non-writing, work-related arena, I have spent the first semester of this school year putting in 24 hours/week with the school's extended care program, primarily working with the kindergarten-age students. It has been a mixture of joy and agony that only children can provoke. I have one more week with them in January, then they go full-day kindergarten and I go to a 2 day per week schedule working with the preschoolers instead. I will miss my kindergarten kids. And I cannot wait to be done working with them every day. Given the previously mentioned schedule change next year and the low rate of pay associated with the job, I think it's fair to say I will not be working there on a regular basis next school year. But honestly? I think I've held my ground far better than I feared I might--I may have mentioned a time or two that I do not thrive in people-intensive situations, and working at the school has most definitely been people-intensive.

This been a growing year for me. (For my boys, too, but I will save that for another entry, I think.)

I can't put numbers to this claim; there's no word count or chart of stories started or completed or timecard of hours worked to support this claim. There were short stories jotted down in first draft form and never looked at again. There were novels half-started and then put away to make way for other projects. There were months of spinning my wheels on figuring out what to do with a novel I thought I had a first draft of but came to realize that I hadn't really even begun. There were weeks I blew on leisure activities that had nothing whatsoever to do with writing. (OK, yes. Gaming. I said it.)

But I honestly, sincerely feel like I have a better grip on what I'm doing than I did 12 months ago. I came across the phrase "exploratory draft" in a fellow writer's forum signature today that shines a crystal clear light on what that first draft of Crowmaker really was. I finished my first play-through of Dragon Age: Origins and had a series of mini-epiphanies about plot structure and character motivation, seen from a fresh angle. I did some experimental, "not-for-real" writing just for me that helped me break through walls and bring a new confidence to my "real" writing. I got a rejection letter that informed me in one fell swoop that my writing style was beautiful, but the story itself just moved too slowly, which chimed a note of recognition somewhere deep inside me and brought to my conscious mind what my subconscious had evidently been trying to tell me for some time--that all my effort on style was great and starting to pay off, but now I need to pay more mind to story structure. And a hundred, thousand other tiny moments of learning that I may have missed if I haven't spent the last couple of years struggling to listen to my instincts.

Looking forward to 2010, then:

I will not fool myself. There will be rough patches. There always are. But there will be periods of energy and productivity, too. There always are. I will continue to try finding my personal work rhythm and developing my writing process. I will continue to look and listen for the tiny moments of learning and attempt to apply them to my writing. I will cross my fingers on the stories currently out in the submission void, I will (possibly) work on getting out there again if/when they come back, and I will charge ahead with the novel that is beginning to feel like the great but challenging love of my life. Last year at this time, I was afraid of Crowmaker; it feels much more doable now, although still frightening. We'll see where it goes in 2010, I suppose.

We are all pursuing magic

2009-12-24T01:28:00.002-05:00

What we did this afternoon:

First, the flashy little promo.

Then, a better idea of how the show actually felt.

This was Joey's suggestion. The kid does a pretty good job of picking out entertainment.

Fond holiday wishes to all of you.

Every single day what you say makes no sense to me

2009-12-22T19:50:00.011-05:00

Because I have several pages of handwritten notes which need to be compiled and organized into my novel outline, I will now present my version of the 2009 monthly first blog lines meme. Except I think I will also include the titles of the entries.

January
Gravity and momentum
A brief review of 2008, wherein I look back to see how far I've come in order to inspire myself to continue plodding forward: The boys finished their first year of "regular" school, after having been homeschooled for three years.

February
Little pieces of the nothing that fall
Last Friday was the middle school's annual "Punk 'n' Rock," which is a lip sync show in which the 7th and 8th graders get to dress up in goofy costumes and ham it up as they present a little skit based on the song.

March
Head on without a care
The first part of last week was great. I accomplished a great deal of plot-untangling for Crowmaker and managed to work out all the big kinks leading up to the ending.*

April
No news is good news
We are spring breaking this week.

May
With a little perseverance you can get things done
"With an estimated turnaround time of 3 months on queries to Steeple Hill, I should have plenty of time to finish the rewrite this week and then let the ms cool a week or two before a final polishing read-through."

June
Single-minded
I met my word count goal for last week, although I had to work on Saturday.

July
So a day when you've lost yourself completely
There's a meme going around wherein working writers list the first lines of all the projects on their in-progress list. Because I have at least a half dozen other things I should be doing instead, I figured I'd play along.**

August
Until then I'll have to find a way
Just in time to join forces with the emotional downswing mentioned in my previous blog entry, I received a rejection letter from Steeple Hill on my submission there.

September
Just to laugh and say hello and say goodbye
I have not been keeping my blog religiously the last few days.

October
She's a butterfly
It's been over a month since my last blog entry.***

November
The first and last breath don't matter, it's all the ones that are in between
The job is still the job.

December
Take whatever you can, girl
Thanksgiving was both a bust and a blessing.

*I have to laugh, since I am currently in the middle of untangling the BEGINNING of that same damn story.

**Hmm. Sound kinda familiar?

***Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been over a month since my last... Oh wait.

Here's another round for you

2009-12-17T19:44:00.005-05:00

Not a lot of tangible productivity has happened on the writing front this week, in part because of the whole last-week-before-Christmas-break flurry of school-related activities, in part because I've had a head cold that, while not debilitating, has still managed to affect my energy level and ability to think clearly. And maybe because I'd reached a point where I needed to just let the current story stew a little. I have certainly been thinking about it a lot. And done some light research-variety reading for it. So I think once I've shaken the head cold and gotten through the day tomorrow, I may be able to get my feet under me and move forward again.

Youtube link for the title of the day.

For any fellow Foos geeks hanging around out there: Apparently they did a concert from their studio back in October, via Facebook. It's nearly three hours long. It is pretty awesome.

Drownin' my sorrows, avoiding tomorrows

2009-12-10T10:12:00.008-05:00

The fake science is falling into place, finally, as are some final pieces of behind-the-scenes choreography and logistics for the story. I am now at a place where I have (most of) the information about the events that happen, both during the story and in the years leading up to it. I just need to figure out how best to let the story unfold for the reader.

The thing that I think has thrown me all along on this story is that it is actually two stories--one that took place several years before, and the one taking place in the current time of the story. For a while, I even considered trying to tell them as two separate stories. But I found that when I tried to extricate them from each other, the two individual stories felt... thinner. Less substantial. They lean on each other, and each makes the other more meaningful when they are revealed together. Which is not a new story structure, obviously. Other writers have done it. I've even done it. Just, you know, not with this particular story.

My approach to figuring out how to structure the story has been to spend this morning mostly on cat vacuuming activities. I know it flies in the face of the BIC philosophy of writing, but I have this feeling of impending revelation building in my head. (Which is like a cross between that ready-to-pop feeling you get shortly before the baby is due--except in the head--and the headache you get after too many days of sleep deprivation in a row.) And I have been thinking about the story while I fiddle with other distractions. I'm even thinking about it right now, at the just-below-the-conscious level of my brain. I can almost hear the characters' voices as they chat; I just can't quite make out the words. So yeah. Going with the gut instinct on this one, I think, and giving the muse a day or so to give me her insight before I get out my colored paper and markers and try to lure her out of hiding.

All things considered, it's been a fairly productive week on the creative front. The number of kids in the kindergarten crew has been near 20 every day this week, since they've had practice for their Christmas program every afternoon. Add to that the inability to take them outside at all and the shortage of rooms within the school which a) have room for all of them and b) are available at the times we need them, and uh... Yeah. One week to Christmas break!

It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie

2009-12-09T10:06:00.005-05:00

All through school, science was my biggest challenge. Language arts? Rock. Math? Accounting? Bring on the puzzles and rules and let me at it. History? Hey, look. I get to read stories! But science, for reasons I have never fathomed, would just never stick. I could memorize facts long enough to get through tests and classes, but nothing ever really made sense to me in the same way that other information did. (OK. Probably I'm this way with math, too. I was just able to memorize the rules enough that I can fake a good understanding of it. I think.) I have vivid memories of my college buddy Dan helping me get through college biology by making up stories about cells and school buses and other bizarre and amusing things. (He also cut up the pig and let me just take the notes. And drove me home through a near-blizzard one weekend. And uh, there may have been some nerf gun fights at some point, too. He was a pretty cool friend.)

Anyhow. Here I am in the middle of re-outlining and doing additional research and fleshing out of "facts" for my historical fantasy fictional world. And suddenly I am up to my eyeballs in science. And not just science, but fake science that I somehow need to make believable. So if you are reading this, and you are a science-minded person, and I know about it... Be ready. The "what if" emails will be coming soon.

In other news, it looks like a rather blustery day. (Youtube alert!)

Reachin' out with both hands

2009-12-06T16:52:00.019-05:00

I'm back, I think. I've been using my scheduled blocks of writing time mostly for writing. I have refused to beat myself up if I miss time because of doctor appointments or other assorted household duties. That's the whole "flexible" part of a flexible schedule, after all. At the same time, I am managing to not give in to my more manic urges to spend every single free second on my current project. (Yes. THAT one. I refuse to say it out loud for fear of jinxing myself.) So I am working, but trying to not burn out. I'm sure at some point I'll suffer at least a minor burnout anyhow, since that's just how I do things. For now, though, I'll take the upswing and run with it.

In the course of putting together a new, longer soundtrack for THAT project, I rediscovered John Mellencamp's early stuff, from back when he was still just John Cougar. He's gone on record a time or two saying he doesn't think very highly of some of those earlier songs, but I still like them.

(Find the playlist here. Warning! Pop-up and possible music at the link!)

This week, my writing students turned in the rough drafts of their stories so I could offer feedback--and to give them a breather and me a chance to offer some individualized encouragement along with comments. (I have lots of opinions about encouragement being as valuable as criticism to the writer, and at some points even more valuable. Heck, it applies to more than just writers. I won't haul out that soapbox today, though.) I decided to let them go through the first draft process with some basic instructions on what should go in the beginning, the middle, and the end, but with no warning labels about common writer hang-ups in each part. The idea was to let them have their own unbiased experience with the process and then compare notes, because they seem to be a bunch that learns more from doing than from just listening.

In class, after collecting first drafts, I passed out cookies to celebrate the milestone and then read them "The Ransom of Red Chief," both as a good short story example and because it's fun. Next class, we'll dive back into the work. In the meantime, I am impressed with the general quality of their first drafts. We're not talking Pulitzer-level work, obviously, but most of them really grasped the basics I tried to teach them, and a couple showed a good grasp of some more advanced topics we haven't even talked about. I'm most impressed, I think, by their willingness to dive in and attempt the work and get their hands dirty as they try things. Good for them. I'm really enjoying the chance to work with them. I'm willing to bet I'm learning a few things along with them, too.

Michael's sinus infection worked itself into bronchitis, for which he has another round of antibiotics and some serious cough medication. The headaches seem to have resolved, though. I'd noticed over the last month or so that he was going through one of his phases where he was really struggling to remember things and get homework done without spending hours staring off into space instead of actually working on homework. My error in handling it was to merely remind him that he needed to focus, which has become my shorthand for "Remember all the tricks I taught you in years past to help in getting school work done? Do that now." He's grown and matured so much over the last couple of years that I'd started thinking he no longer needed extra help from me. I eventually realized I was wrong, and he and I sat down to talk things over. Once I gave him my full attention and acceptance, he gave me honest answers instead of defensive ones to my questions, and we were able to figure out some things we could do together in an attempt to make homework less torturous for him.

We've set up a regular schedule of focus exercises (which we used to do every day but had stopped), we tracked his actual hours spent on different activities for the week so he could objectively see that it just FEELS like homework takes up all his free time, and I help him organize his homework and work space before he gets started. I also tracked how much homework time he spent on actually doing homework and how much he spent being distracted--which gave him a goal, to bring down the amount of distracted time over the week. By today, he was down to zero minutes spent staring into space. Funny, how just giving him that simple goal gives his mind something to fixate on and snaps his attention back into place. The real key, though, was getting me to stop showing irritation with him, which in turn convinced him to be honest instead of defensive and also irritated in return. Once we actually, you know, started talking TO each other, it went so much more smoothly. Lesson to remember for me.

Take whatever you can, girl

2009-12-02T08:07:00.003-05:00

Thanksgiving was both a bust and a blessing. I spent the weekend home with the stomach flu and the dog, while Steve and the boys headed to Tennessee to spend a couple of days at Steve's brother's house. It was a quieter than normal celebration there, too, because the other brother didn't make it and the sister was also home with stomach flu. (But with three kids instead of a dog. I think I got the better deal.) By Thursday evening, however, I was able to do some writing. Actually, I was given no choice by my muse, who finally shared with me exactly how the Heimdal story ends. It was one of those very exciting moments when you feel like you've been struck by a bulldozer of inspiration.

Friday I went back to work on a short short story I've been working on for an anthology call for submissions. The anthology's theme is the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and I had this old rough draft sitting around that seemed well-suited for it, so I've been fiddling with making it a final draft. In the course of rewriting, I switched the story to first person, present tense in the interest of making it more immediate, so I could connect better to the story's protagonist. I hadn't looked at it for the better part of two weeks when I sat down with it Friday. The very first thing I did upon trying to read it was say (to the dog, who likes to help me read), "Ugh!" Which, translated, turned out to mean that the viewpoint and tense of the story were so utterly jarring and artificial-seeming that I couldn't even begin to read it. So I offered up a silent apology to the friend I'd already sent a draft of the story to and then went back to my computer and changed the story back to third person past tense before even attempting any other revisions.

By Friday night, I had a finished draft and cover letter for "On A Black Horse" and eventually managed to convince myself to push the Send button already. I then switched back to working on the Heimdal story and found, upon doing a read-through to make notes for further rewriting and revision, that the story was... Way better than I thought it would be. I found things that needed work, yes, but they were much smaller and lower level changes than the big gaping holes I'd expected to see. It was like watching a bunch of scattered kaleidoscope pieces suddenly fall into a pattern that looked like something real. So I waded in, revised and reread and revised some more, put together the cover letter and did some final polishing and formatting, and managed to convince myself to hit the Send button on Monday evening.

So. Two more stories out into the wild blue. I have no idea how either will fare, so I'm aiming for cautiously hopeful and attempting to move on. The anthology deadline isn't until Dec. 31, so I won't hear back on that story until mid-January, and the Heimdal market has a 3-4 month turnaround time. That's way too long to sit around waiting to hear back, so the plan is to not wait around.

In other news, Joe-Bear got the results from his high school placement tests. (Placement tests as opposed to entrance tests. They're just intended to help determine which classes and level of classes he should register for when registration rolls around.) He scored above average or high on all the categories, in the 99th local percentile (scored better than 99% of the kids who took the test the same day) in the reading category, and in the 96th percentile overall. Along with the scores, he received invitations to enroll in two honors courses his freshman year. He has been talking about high school since last year, and last night when I asked if he was interested in the honors biology class, he knocked me over with "Well, yeah. I'm thinking about chemical or electrical engineering in college." Which isn't as entirely out of the blue as you might think, since he has a cousin in each major, and his father spends a lot of time telling him how lucrative the engineering field is. But it was the first time he'd shown actual interest in it, beyond just rolling his eyes at his dad and muttering something about drums and rock bands and computer programming.

I think I'm mostly just blown away by how much thought he has put into planning for high school and college. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find out he's a planner.

I need your grace to remind me to find my own

2009-11-13T12:58:00.006-05:00

Let me tell you a story first. When Michael was a baby and then a toddler, he hardly ever ran a fever or acted like anything hurt when he was sick. I would take him for a well check-up, and the doctor would look in his ears and give me this "What kind of a mother ARE you?" look and say, "Were you aware your son has a raging ear infection?" Well, doc, no. Because he never gave me even the slightest reason to suspect that he was sick! We finally got the ear tubes in and the adenoids out and I bought a little doctor's light so I could always check his ears and throat for myself. Apparently, I had forgotten this lesson.

I couldn't stand waiting for Friday to get Michael's vision checked and then Monday to schedule a regular doctor appointment if necessary to determine the source of his headaches. It just didn't feel right. So I got him into his regular doctor yesterday. "Fever?" she asks. "Stuffy nose? Sore throat? Anything other than the headaches?" Nope, nope, and nope. She gets out her nifty little light and starts checking out the ears, throat, and nose.

So, apparently the child with no fever, no sore throat, and no sinus issues has a sinus infection. The doctor is 99% sure that is the source of the headaches and that a few days of antibiotics will have him feeling perky as ever. We went ahead with the eye appointment anyhow, just in case. (Just the tiniest start of near-sightedness, but not enough to warrant glasses yet.) He's now on the couch sleeping off the effects of having his pupils dilated. (Fun for all ages. Last time I had it done, the ensuing headache was bad enough to induce nausea.)

In the meantime, I've been hearing Joey cough a lot since yesterday. He assured me this morning it was no big deal. But every mother out there knows that a kid who's a little sick on Friday is almost guaranteed to be a lot sick as soon as the doctor's office closes for the weekend. Here's hoping I won't be kicking myself by tomorrow morning for not going with my instincts and dragging him into the doctor today, too.

The first and last breath don't matter, it's all the ones that are in between

2009-11-10T21:03:00.004-05:00

The job is still the job. The kids have mostly settled into our little everyday routine and mostly behave pretty well for me. (Knock wood. Seriously knock wood.) Even the most shy among them have loosened up enough to talk to me at least a little. I still try to take a little time every day to get down on face to face, one to one level with each of them just to chat a little about something. I'm finding that having that connection helps a ton when I need them to really listen to me later on. Mostly. I think. Hey, it's a good theory? Well, if nothing else it makes me feel better, since I get the chance to get to know them all.

The middle school fiction writing class I teach is also going well. Even the more shy among them have loosened up and contributed in class. I still hear once in a while about our group brainstorming session which resulted in some spectacularly silly story premises. When I talk, they seem to be paying attention. When I ask questions, they really seem to have been paying attention. When I say, "That's your assignment for this week, you may have the rest of class to write," to a man they snatch out their pens and scribble furiously for the rest of class time. No complaints. No face-making. Lots of eager writing. I love that.

I managed to get back into a writing schedule for the last couple of weeks. This week so far, a good chunk of that schedule has been eaten up by shopping, both the regular and the Christmas gift variety. Good news is that I should be clear tomorrow and Thursday morning. Friday not so much, but I'll take two out of five and try to run with it.

Friday morning is not clear for writing because I will be taking the Michael-Monster to the eye doctor. I'm not convinced he has any real vision problems, but he's been complaining of headaches for a week now. No other symptoms, and he claims he can see fine, but the most logical step in a process of elimination suggested I start with the eyes. If that's not the problem, then next week we'll get his regular doctor involved, too. Most of the time when a child is not feeling well, I can make a pretty good guess as to what the problem is. I really HATE having no clue what the deal is or how to help him out.

When all you got to keep is strong

2009-10-20T19:33:00.005-04:00

1. The past week has been underscored by a struggle with a mild bout of depression, possibly brought about at least in part by several gloomy, rainy days in a row. I have muddled through, managed to accomplish work both practical and creative in spite of the struggle, and think (hope) I am muddling through the tail end of the downswing.

2. My boys are bright and wonderful. (But we already knew that, didn't we?) First quarter report cards and conferences were all thumbs up, and fall break is in sight. (Three hours of school tomorrow before an early dismissal.)

3. The language arts substitute teacher they had for the first quarter stopped me in the hall Friday, her last day, to let me know how very awesome she thinks Michael is. In summary, she noted that yes, he has a somewhat nontraditional way of thinking and doing things, but she appreciates how very brilliantly that nontraditional mind works. Which is how I've always felt about him, so it was nice to know that other people, teachers even, are capable of taking him as he is and encouraging him instead of trying to cram him into some other, more acceptable mold. (And we all know how vehemently I oppose the cramming of people into molds that do not fit them.)

4. Apparently, several kindergarten parents have commented that their children sometimes plead to be allowed to go to extended care after school each day. I may be doing something right? On a more personal level, I have noticed that my toughest sell, a young man with blondeblondeblonde hair and a penchant for digging holes on the playground, has over the last nine weeks gone from barely speaking to me to calling me merely "Teacher" to gleefully calling out "Hi, Ms. Lori!" as he comes into the room each day. During lunch, I usually roam up and down the table and stop to talk to the kids once in a while if there are no milk cartons in need of opening or behaviors in need of correction. Last week, he stopped me as I came past his end of the table, by reaching out to playfully stomp my foot and scowl at me. I crouched down beside him. "Do you need your applesauce opened?" "No." "Need a spoon?" "No!" "What do you need, then?" "I want you to talk to me!"

Score.

5. Did I mention that fall break is a mere three hours of school away? I do not have to work tomorrow, so it'll be a quick drop off of kids, a grocery run, a couple blissful hours of silence, and a short sit in the car line to pick them up again. And then we have our lives all to ourselves for four whole days.

I won't mind if you can find the time to stay with me

2009-10-13T19:21:00.006-04:00

I am finding that life with the kindergarten crew is not so hard. And not so easy. And mostly unpredictable. And we all know how well I handle unpredictable. I'm finding I can live with it and there are some bright spots, but I'm also pretty sure I could live without it and not miss it a whole bunch. Then again, my bloodwork has been turning in some odd results lately and we're still trying to straighten that out. So maybe I'm just tired and not entirely with it.

The boys both had The Flu last week. Yes. THE flu. They have both recovered, although Michael still acts and looks a little tired. They only missed three days of school each and managed to keep their work pretty well caught up along the way. Next week they have a field trip, two early dismissal days for conferences, and then FALL BREAK. Safe to say we're all looking forward to that.

This past Saturday I sat down and wrote in two blocks of writing time each weekday, one in the morning and one in the evening. Not that those blocks didn't already exist, but I thought maybe the act of writing them down would help me remember to actually use them. So far so good. Today I think I found the right voice for a flash piece I actually wrote the rough draft of several years ago. And this evening the final line of the story finally came to me. I think. Once I have the ending actually written, I'll know for sure. But it's certainly a much more finished piece than it was a couple of days ago.

Queued up on Rhapsody: The earlier Goo Goo Dolls albums. Which I'm finding I enjoy just as much as some of the more well-known tracks. I may have a new band for my favorites list.

She's a butterfly

2009-10-04T15:08:00.007-04:00

It's been over a month since my last blog entry. And that last entry was misleading, since it suggested that no entries here meant I was working hard on other writing. The truth is, I have been working hard--just not so much at writing. Which is not to say I've done no writing at all. Just not as much as no blog entries at all might suggest.

What I have been doing is trying to adjust to the new responsibilities I took on at the beginning of the school year. I put in five hours a day with the school's extended care program, and I teach the middle school fiction writing class--and while the class itself is 45 minutes once a week, the prep work I put into coming up with the actual lesson plans takes several hours a week. So really, I'm working full-time now. The pay is lousy, and the work is challenging, but I'm finding I reap small, quiet rewards in places I hadn't completely expected.

But the fact remains that I am working full-time. And while I could use that as an excuse for not writing more--and I do feel that's at least part of the deal--I don't think it's the entire reason I'm not writing more. Because I'd stopped writing even before the full-time work kicked in, if you remember.

I have concluded that I am in a cocoon stage right now. I don't know how badly I want to write anymore. I will write, I know that--it's part of who I am. I just don't know that I want to continue pushing for the publication part. It's pretty clear that making a living at writing is a goal that I either will not attain or that might burn me out if I keep pushing for it. But then again, I don't know that for certain, either. And in the end, I think for right now I will decide not to make any decisions. I will go through each day doing all the things that need doing, I will reap my small, quiet rewards where I find them, and I will wait for my current metamorphosis to complete. And when I crawl out of my cocoon... I suspect I will find myself still a caterpillar, just perhaps a slightly different caterpillar. Because these cocoon phases have come and gone a number of times now, and I'm guessing that's just life. Someday a butterfly, but for now I'll content myself with the doze that comes before seeing what color my new stripes will be.

Just to laugh and say hello and say goodbye

2009-09-01T10:23:00.003-04:00

I have not been keeping my blog religiously the last few days. The good news is, it's because I've been writing instead. So if my posts here become fewer and shorter, that's actually A Good Thing.

Work has been work. Kids and teachers seem to be settling into the school year routine, so Monday was pretty smooth for me. I have my lesson plan for Thursday pretty much sorted out. And I am looking forward to the upcoming long weekend, when we will have not only a day off but a day off which includes a visit from an awesome out-of-town friend.

Cold is nearly kicked. Weather has taken a milder turn. Dust still hangs over the playground, but I suppose it's better than mud.

I am not a ghost

2009-08-29T18:57:00.007-04:00

Friday was something of a blur. By the end of the day, I had added fever and chills to the sore throat and OMGsinuses. I did fit in some more reading. And I am feeling re-energized about the Heimdal story--hopefully my body is back in some semblance of health next week so that I can actually do something about that.

Earlier this week I was talking with a (very dear and sweet and good) friend. I shared with him my feelings about my new job over at the school, which in a nutshell is that the kids are great and the fellow staff people are fine and nice. But I am reminded, once again, as I have been for most of my life, that I am not quite like those other normal people. Or maybe I am, and I simply don't see it. Whatever the case, I have spent most of my life in the "real world" feeling like a misfit, and now is no different than before.

And my (very dear and sweet and good) friend said to me (in paraphrase), "This is going to sound wrong. But I'm glad you don't fit in, because if you did, you wouldn't be the person we know and love. So... Thanks for being different."

I was moved to tears. It was exactly what I needed to hear, exactly when I needed to hear it, and I am grateful for the boost of courage his words have given me.

Go forth and be different.

To live and die by highway dust

2009-08-27T18:23:00.004-04:00

Yesterday morning contained much errand-running but no writing time. Yesterday afternoon, as with pretty much every afternoon this week, contained much playground time with the kindergarten kids. The weather has been hot and muggy, and the playground has a more or less permanent cloud of dust hanging over it. (Apparently there is no child alive who is capable of walking across a patch of bare earth without scuffing their feet through it.) I'm not always on the playground, though, lest you think my new job boring. Sometimes I get to patrol lunch tables, and I even get to loiter outside restrooms on a regular basis while waiting for my young charges to return to me.

This morning, I indulged in more reading and did one last practice run of my writing class lecture. I have ten middle school students in the fiction writing elective I'm teaching, we had our first session this afternoon, and while they were mostly very quiet and a little uncertain, I think it went well. I saw a few sparks in eyes as I was talking, and I have high hopes that I will see more as we all get to know each other and feel more comfortable.

In the meantime, I am nursing a really sore throat and serious sinus drainage, brought on at least in part, I'm sure, by the previously mentioned cloud of dust in which I spend a fair chunk of my day.

Simply a look can break your heart

2009-08-25T07:33:00.007-04:00

This morning's agenda included grocery shopping and putting gas in the van after dropping the boys off at school. I forgot to stop and get gas, of course. This is why I start trying to remember at half a tank and don't wait until I really need to fill up. And then of course Avie and I had to haul the groceries into the house and put them away. This is not the small task you'd think when you're buying for teen/preteen boys. Did I mention that Michael has also now outgrown me? He was about the same height when I measured him for clothes the week before school started; by the end of the first week of school, he was an inch taller. I'll have to post a picture of my shaggy, facial-hair-sporting pair of young men.

I did a run-through of my writing class lecture, and it feels about right now. Now I'm just waiting on a head count for the class so I know how many papers to print out for them. And I can mentally prepare myself for whatever size the class is.

On the writing front:

I uh... found some stuff to read. I haven't actually had a chance to sit down and READ yet. I will probably do that while eating lunch, which for me these days is more like a really late breakfast and will be very soon.
Iris is speaking more clearly in my head. The initial breakdown of her character is in the very first scene, and I know how to fix that. All else should follow from there. I just need to sit down and do it. I will probably use my remaining time for item 1 today, and open the ms to start scene 1 fixes tomorrow.

Tomorrow includes an orthodontist visit. That'll be three days running of morning errands, which often makes it hard to get the writing in. But I've still managed to accomplish something each day, even if they were just little things. It's a start.

When you come back in from nowhere

2009-08-24T10:17:00.004-04:00

I made a brief side trip on the way home from dropping the boys off at school, to buy stickers to use as bribes... err... positive reinforcement for my kindergarten bunch. After taking a shower and working down the list of phone calls I needed to make this morning for assorted doctor and dental appointments, I delivered my fiction class lecture to myself, found it lacking in a couple of areas, and sat down to work out the trouble spots.

On the writing front, I made a two-item list for this week:

Immerse myself in reading again, because swimming in other writers' words often helps me reconnect with my own.
Think about my main character in the Heimdal story and figure out where the strong-willed woman I thought she was got lost in the existing draft, so I can help her dig out again and light the story on fire.

I have begun work on item 1 and have a reasonably good idea how to accomplish item 2. Checking Monday off my list and gearing up to move on to the non-creative portion of my day.

I wear the scars that prove

2009-08-21T22:29:00.006-04:00

We made it through week one of my new job as after-school caregiver for the kindergarten age group at the boys' school. It wasn't the smoothest ride ever, but most of the bumps were caused by adjustments related to my job and not to the boys and school. They rode it out like pros; I'm hoping that what I learned this week will help me handle next week a little better. We're all exhausted, but we survived. Now to make it through the rest of the school year...

Middle school electives were preempted for the first week, so I have yet to get my feet wet on the fiction writing class. I was approached by one seventh grader who asked me to tell her more about the class so she could decide if she wanted to take it. During the course of our conversation, her face lit up a couple of times. Hopefully this is a good sign.

Nothing related to my own writing has happened this week, again. But there's been some rustling around and exasperated sighs from my muse, so one of my tasks for the weekend is to assess my new schedule and pencil in my writing time, along with specific goals for the next couple of months.

Hang on, Muse. Organizer-lady will soon ride to your rescue.

Until then I'll have to find a way

2009-08-05T11:32:00.005-04:00

Just in time to join forces with the emotional downswing mentioned in my previous blog entry, I received a rejection letter from Steeple Hill on my submission there. Oddly, it wasn't the devastating blow one might expect--the up side of submitting a lot is that you get rejected a lot is that you build up a thick skin. Would it have been nice to get an offer? Hell, yeah. But I've kept my options open. That one story isn't the only ball I have in play.

Still, I just felt so. Damned. Tired.

So, I took a little vacation from the writing gig. No whining, no guilt trip, just threw my hands in the air and said "I give up." Total surrender. I'm feeling a little less burned out, at this point. I have some vague ideas on new directions.

I'm still not forcing anything. School starts in a week and a half, and my two new "jobs" along with it. I have lesson plans I'm still finalizing, clothes and supplies to shop for, a deck that needs to be refinished, and a growing case of nerves over those two new jobs. I am giving myself permission to handle those things and get a grip on the new school year routine before I sit down with the muse and the super-organizer and try to hammer out details on our new game plan.

Not done yet. Just taking a few deep breaths.

You said you'd stand by me in the middle of chapter three

2009-07-24T10:43:00.004-04:00

Two days ago, this was the most awesome story I've ever worked on. Yesterday, it was an overwhelming mess of half-baked ideas. Last night, I quit. Not just this story, but writing altogether. I mean, really, who needs this torture? Too hard, too much work, too much of pouring myself into something that may never happen.

This morning, I caught myself thinking about a possible scene, and an angle for that antagonist that I hadn't had before, and oh hey, I could do this cool thing, and...

We all know I'll never really quit. Sometimes I just need to pretend, I guess.

If I had one wish, I'd wish for two

2009-07-20T09:06:00.006-04:00

I'll kick off this blog entry with a brief, paraphrased recap of a conversation with a friend the other day:

Friend: "I've been thinking about trying my hand at drawing. I'll have to buy a sketch pad or something."

Me: "Really, you don't need much more than some plain white paper and a plain old #2 pencil.

Friend: "Well, the paper's not an issue. I could just take some from the printer. I don't have any pencils, though."

Me: "..."

Friend: "What?"

Me: "How can you NOT HAVE A PENCIL?!"

Friend: "Well, how many do you have just laying around?"

Me: (Insert crazed laughter here.)

A photo-tour of Lori's pencil cups:

Starts out innocently enough. Everyone has writing utensils in their coffee cup. Right?

Hey, I do serious business out by the kitchen phone. Like, scheduling and phone calls and, you know. Stuff.

Our stash of mechanical pencils and assorted erasers, resting quietly over the summer. Please note that they are cheap, disposable mechanical pencils. Because the only thing the Michael-Monster is harder on than #2 pencils with leads that shatter inside the pencil and thereafter refuse to sharpen correctly after being dropped on the floor a zillion times an hour is a regular mechanical pencil with pieces that jam when dropped on the floor a zillion times an hour. Looks like they'll need a restock when the school year starts. I wonder what other cool colors they might come in...

The kids' stash of other assorted pencils, highlighters, markers that ran away from their sets, and a couple hundred colored pencils that their mother fooled herself into thinking they might need so that she could scribble with them sometimes, too. And a pack of crayons that middle schoolers are highly unlikely to need, but that their mother cannot part with. I MIGHT USE THEM SOMEDAY. And I did give up the bucket o' broken crayon bits to the school when we cleaned out this spring. IT WAS HARD.

My stash of grown-up colored pencils, drawing pencils, and OMGprettycolorsmustbuy markers that usually lives in the dining room closet to the left of my desk. It was too dark to photograph them in there, so I hauled them out to my desk. (As a side note, the dining room closet has cedar shelves. Mmm. I could crawl in there and take a nap, some days. You know, if I could fit into a dining room closet.)

The above tour does not include the set of chunky Prismacolor markers stashed uh... somewhere in the basement because their fumes give me a headache. Or the two containers full of Crayola chunky markers that I just now remembered and am too lazy to go to the effort of photographing and uploading. Or the 24-count box of unsharpened pencils in the kitchen cupboard above my pencil cups there. (Joe-Bear uses those ones. He has fewer dropping issues than his little brother.) It also includes only pencils, pens, and markers. If you added in other assorted media... Well, there might be a few more photos.

As I told the aforementioned friend, office supply aisles and God-help-me art supply stores are dangerous, dangerous places for me.

I saw you building a castle for the tide

2009-07-14T13:27:00.004-04:00

I still haven't done any actual writing to speak of. I have, however, done a great deal of research reading and pondering and even some writing of notes, mostly related to Crowmaker. I have pretty much reached the conclusion that most of what I've already written for that story will wind up being trashed. But I'm OK with that, because I also think that I needed to write all of that in the process of exploring the story. And with the inspirational romance out in the world, my need to have my toes in the submitting pool is satisfied. So for this week, at least, the writing is what it is, and I'm content to keep playing with the world building aspect.

The middle school fiction writing elective I'll be teaching next school year is shaping up, too. I have more ideas I'd like to share than I'll have class time for, and I'm excited about getting into the classroom and seeing how the kids respond. I'm sure the actual classroom experience will temper my enthusiasm with some gritty reality--kids have a knack for that--but I'm still looking forward to it. Now it's just a matter of getting through the dry-mouth, sweaty-palms, talking-in-front-of-people-nerves part of it.

In the meantime, I also received an offer to work for the school's extended care program on a daily basis. In a nutshell, the job involves looking after kindergarteners during the half day when they're not in actual kindergarten. (Mostly kindergarten. There's a mix of other ages during the day and after school, but I took the description to mean I'd mainly be working with kindergarteners.) I accepted the job, for a lot of reasons I can't quite put my finger on. I'm kinda nervous about it, for a reason I can quite readily define, which has to do with the oft-mentioned introverted tendency to feel a little overwhelmed by too much face-time. But I think in the long run, it could be a good experience. And it's really close to home. And I don't have to worry about getting the kids to and from school because they're, like, there with me.

And did I mention it still leaves me with my morning writing time mostly intact?

This town was meant for passing through

2009-07-07T14:56:00.005-04:00

I tagged on the "angst" label to this post, but I don't really feel angsty. Mostly I just feel like I'm not sure what I should be doing with myself on the creative front. Not that I need more things to do to keep me busy, because I've been taking care of a lot of non-writing projects this summer. And I've been doing a lot of reading, which I count as writing-related work. And planning for the fiction writing class I'll be teaching in the fall. But I have gone a few weeks without actually writing, and I feel a little antsy and perhaps a little knee-jerk guilt about that. After all, writing is my life, right? I should be pouring my every bit of strength and free time into it if I hope to get anywhere with my career?

Except, of course, that writing is not my whole life. And these other projects give me a sense of satisfaction to work on, as well. And I'm really struggling to carve out any regularly scheduled writing time this summer. Well. Not entirely true, because the time is there. But it carries with it the knowledge that at any given moment I could be called away from the writing. And that's really just an excuse, because I know if I put my mind to it I could train myself to write under those circumstances--I have before. Remember back when the kids were little, Lori, how you used to carry around the shorthand notebook and pride yourself on writing stories in 5-minute increments, standing at the kitchen counter while the kids ate lunch? In my defense, I was writing much shorter fiction back then. But I have become spoiled by my school year routine.

My question to myself, then, is do I push to train myself to write on the spot, a few minutes at a time, again? Or do I let the writing slide for a few more weeks until the school year begins again and allow myself the luxury of using the would-be-writing time to continue catching up on reading and other non-writing projects?

I'm leaning toward the latter. It's not like summer lasts forever, anyhow. Right?

And even if we come home empty-handed

2009-07-03T10:15:00.004-04:00

Not to be outdone by unfinished projects, the published stories in my bibliography clamored until I also tagged on their first lines.

Other things that happened this week include more painting, this time of the shared kitchen/living room wall that runs the entire length of the back of the house. Things to trim around included two arched windows, a fireplace, a half wall, a patio door, two cabinets, and a deepset window over the sink. Oh, and the kitchen counter. Not a whole lot of wide open space to roll, but the trimming made it take as long as an entire room.

A renewed interest in Crowmaker bit me right about Monday, so while I was waiting for paint to dry I tackled anew the research I'd started, found some cool connections that I hadn't stumbled across before, and made plans to hit the library. Today. As soon as I get out of this chair and get dressed.

Which is what I will do now.

So a day when you've lost yourself completely

2009-07-02T15:10:00.009-04:00

There's a meme going around wherein working writers list the first lines of all the projects on their in-progress list. Because I have at least a half dozen other things I should be doing instead, I figured I'd play along. (Technically, some of these are done, but still in the submission process. So I'm counting them. Because I can.)

In no particular order:

1. Iris Bruckmacher felt the Northern Lights approaching, the speeding solar winds a distant roar in her consciousness, the southerly pull of the magnetic field a gentle tingle against her fingertips. (Unnamed Heimdal novella)

2. "And this is really what you want to do?" Olivia Hargrave peered up at the simple lines of the old farmhouse, as familiar a face in her childhood as those of her parents or brothers or grandparents. (Unnamed inspirational romance)

3. One crow for sorrow. (Crowmaker)

4. "I feel trapped." Rachel's first thought was that Nick really meant he was bored. (A Steadfast Love)

5. At night, sometimes, she dreamed about falling, through the window and into the bottomless winter sky. (Unnamed Loki novel)

6. The furry mole rats of the Antarctic (heterocephalus mythologicalus) lived and thrived in the coldest regions of the earth for many, many years. They thrived so well that, shortly after Max's ninth birthday, his family (mostly his Uncle Bernard, who everyone listened to because he was louder than anyone else) decided it was time to leave their cold digs and head closer to the equator. ("Strong Enough")

7. "Don't leave me," Bobby whispered. ("But He Had Wings")

8. Fifteen years since Kevin had stopped drawing breath, since his too-young heart had stopped and he'd begun the slow fade from living son to a memory as pale as a photograph's after-image. ("Pale Roses")

9. The blue wall was a six-foot-high stretch of rickety wood, painted a new coat of bright baby blue each and every spring. ("The Blue Wall")

10. The rain caused it all. (Unnamed Britomart novel)

The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun

2009-06-27T10:41:00.003-04:00

Still no writing happening, but I think I'm OK with that. For now. I sense some simmering happening way, WAY in the back of my mind somewhere. I hope.

In the meantime, I spent the week painting the two hallways leading out of my kitchen, as well as the one accent wall, which were a dark shade of grayish-green. Although not an unattractive color, it tended toward too dark for my tastes. I also hired our handy-dandy local painter to come in and do the living room--cathedral ceiling in there, and I find myself loathe to spend that much time on that tall a ladder these days. My monkey days are over, I think. The walls in there were lighter but still tinted with that grayish-green. The paint was also flat, which tends to show every speck of dirt that wanders past. I have two children. You can imagine.

At any rate, I have many shiny new walls to enjoy. (And I do. Joe wandered through at one point while I was standing in the middle of the living room just soaking up the vibes from the new color and checking out how the room seems so much bigger and lighter. "Doesn't it look great?!" I enthused at him. Without missing a beat, he glanced around and said, "Yeah. It's as exciting as watching paint dry. Oh, wait." Smart ass teenager.)

In other news, I will be teaching a creative writing elective for the boys' middle school next school year, and possibly doing something extra-curricular for a couple of the younger grades. "But Lori," you're saying, "Haven't I heard you bitch and moan about how hard it is for you to handle too much face time with people?" Well, yeah. But this will be an hour (or two) a week. And the thought of sharing my enthusiasm for writing with young minds is all kinds of appealing. And some of you may recall this moment from my tutoring stint this spring:

Highlight of my tutoring career thus far came last night. We were reviewing fractions, and one of the boys said, "We did this in class today, and I don't get it." And I said, "Let's talk about it some more and see if we can help you get it." So we did. And he did. He sat back in his chair with this most awesome expression on his face and flung his arms wide and shouted, "OH. I get it now!"

Oh yeah. You better believe I'm hooked now.

So, in summary, I seem to be on a writing hiatus, but other productive stuff is happening, perhaps most importantly the opportunities I've had to simply sit/stand around with my boys and discuss everything from video game design to scientology to watching paint dry.

We're down to six/eight summers left together. So yeah, that last one is the big one.

Mean girls make mean women

2009-06-23T08:08:00.004-04:00

Dental work has been survived. Surprisingly, there has been very little pain. However, the novacaine (or something) left me dealing with headache and nausea. Headache is better today, nausea persists. I am feeling particularly grumpy and not particularly motivated. No writing has happened, still, but Michael wiped down the hallway walls and trim for me yesterday and I have begun taping the trim in preparation for painting. At the moment I cannot abide the thought of bending over or reaching above my head to do any more work on that project, but maybe once I've had something to eat my stomach will settle and I'll feel up to it.

If not, I have given myself permission to just take it easy today. I've been trying to catch up my WoW druid to Joe's hunter, and I recently renewed my old DAoC account just for kicks, so maybe I'll even indulge in some video games. Or finish transferring this handful of VHS tapes to the computer. Watching the home movies of Christmases and Easters and beach vacations past has been fun, but with that inevitable touch of bittersweet. It's mostly the same old motherly song and dance--I love my kids as they are now, but oh, look at those sweet little boys in the movies. And then there's remembering just how much I loved the house and the town in South Carolina. It's hard not to sing just a few choruses of the "what if" song.

In the meantime, it has been an hour since I took my thyroid meds. This means I can now eat some breakfast and suck down my morning Dt. Pepsi. Fingers crossed that food and caffeine fixes my mood a little.

I don't want to go home right now

2009-06-20T20:51:00.006-04:00

I did not pick up the Heimdal story the next day, or any of the other days after. It's still in my drawer, waiting for me to decide why I did such an about-face on it. I was very excited about the story, and then suddenly the floor dropped out on it. Some of it has to do with my mood swing rollercoaster and nothing to do with the story itself whatsoever. But that's passed, and I find I'm still reluctant to pick up where I left off with it. I have been thinking about it, however, and I'm beginning to have an inkling of what's going on. You see, I started the story with a specific market in mind. The market publishes novella-length paranormal romances, with a strong emphasis on dark and sexy. Sexy, as in at least one pretty explicit scene per novella.

I've eyed the market in the past, because I like the paranormal romance part of it. I like the novella-length part of it. The explicit sex part, not so much. I finally decided I'd try to write a story for it anyhow--even if it turned out horribly, I'd have the experience of writing the sex scene. But the place I ran aground is, sure enough, just about the place I need to write the big sex scene. Am I stalled out because I don't want to write the scene? Or am I stalled out because I don't really want to publish anything that contains explicit sex? I kinda like being able to show my stories to my kids, now that they're old enough to read most of what I write. (Although I hesitate to believe they'll have much interest in the romances anyhow.) I want to be proud to claim my stories.

Or maybe it's a little deeper than that. Maybe it's because I like the characters more than I'd anticipated I would. Maybe it's because there's this little voice in the back of my mind whispering, "Dude. You could so work all this good stuff into that other Loki story you already have in mind and make the two into one even more awesome story." So maybe it's more about the characters and their conflicts outgrowing the vehicle I'd originally planned for them.

And yet, there's this other voice, the one that sounds nagging and condescending, telling me I'll never sell anything if I don't settle down and finish what I start. That voice says to just finish the last few damn scenes and try to sell it, because selling = success. My gut instinct is to slap the nag out of that voice--except it may have a point. I probably need to finish the story I started, just to see that I can do it. And then I can reassess and decide what comes next.

In the meantime, however, I have set out a couple of non-writing tasks for myself over the next week or two. Generally speaking, once I commit to other projects which take up my normal writing time, the muse will show up and demand to have her time back. And then I have leverage. Seriously, it takes a very clever person to outwit herself like this. At any rate, I have piles of home movies in VHS format piled on and around my desk and have purchased a video capture adapter thingy to transfer the VHS movies to my computer. And I will be painting the two downstairs hallways this week. If the dental work I have done on Monday leaves me feeling up to it. I need bridgework, but first they have to extract this molar. SO not looking forward to it.

And here is your verse

2009-06-16T13:03:00.007-04:00

I am still on a writing hiatus, for the most part. I think tomorrow I will be ready to drag out the Heimdal novella and do some reassessing and regrouping. I spent most of the weekend in the depths of battling the usual various personal demons while holding it together enough to accomplish all the family stuff that needed accomplishing. I seem to be in the process of resurfacing again, which I must confess is a part of my mood cycle I much prefer to the down days. Ugh.

I read a book a couple of months ago, and today I came across the author's web site and some excerpts of possible interest to a couple of people out there: Party of One: The Loner's Manifesto, by Anneli Rufus. The author's tone sometimes seems more vehement toward "nonloners" than I usually am. (Although on my worst days, I can muster up quite a good dose of anger and bitterness toward those who would push me to "fit in" better, I should probably admit.) I found myself chuckling in recognition and nodding in agreement in a number of places. And you know, while it would likely be uncomfortable reading for nonloners, it might also be enlightening, for reasons summed pretty well in this quote from the book:

"They take offense. Feel hurt. Get angry. They do not blame owls for coming out at night, yet they blame us for being as we are. Because it involves them, or at least they believe it does..."

"They" being the nonloners who cannot understand a loner's desire to just be left alone and insist on pushing them to be more "normal." In short, the best thing to remember about loners is this: It's not about you. That loner who is avoiding your phone calls or your invitation to do lunch is not (necessarily) indicating that she doesn't like you. She just prefers--requires--more alone time than you do. Loners do not go around urging nonloners to stay in more or talk to fewer people. We just want the same courtesy returned to us.

We walk on broken ground

2009-06-12T14:09:00.004-04:00

Most of yesterday's writing-related time was spent on a) recognizing some points of character development that need some deepening and fine-tuning and b) figuring out the right location for the final scene of the story. Because the setting is important in that scene, and it needs to be more than just "yeah, that'll work." It needs to have that little "Yes! That's it!" click to it. I got closer, I think, but no epiphany yet.

In the meantime, I sat down this morning to type in some revisions I'd noted at the beginning of the week. And as I was doing so, I spotted all kinds of things in the story that just don't sit right with me. And those holes combined with today's frame of mind* tempt me to hate the story.

So I'm putting it away--for the weekend. I'll look again on Monday and see if it feels less dismal--because the logical me can see that it's a sound story and only needs some fixes. If it still stinks on Monday, I'll leave it set aside for a week or two before I come back to it again. It is only a final scene or three from first draft completion, and I frequently have to redo those last scenes during a revision phase, anyhow.

*My moods follow a pretty predictable rhythm, although they vary in length and depth just enough to keep things exciting. This particular flavor of mood involves a lot of existential brooding: "Am I doing what I should be with my life? What DO I really believe in, anyhow? If I never become a published writer, what other value does my life have?"

I know the answers to those questions, and at some level of me that I am currently unable to completely access, I believe them. I just go through this little phase of doubt now and then, and I have learned to wait them out. Actually, while I dislike these phases, I imagine they're good for me. They're a little wake-up call to remind me to pay attention to those answers and questions when I'm at the necessary mood and energy level to do something about them.

I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me

2009-06-10T16:13:00.008-04:00

No new word count yesterday, but 750 words today, which puts me at almost 8,800 total. I'm pushing up to the last couple of big impact scenes and closing in on "The End" a little more every day... But one step at a time. I need to do some choreography-style thinking and planning before launching into the next scene.

I have stopped using the progress meters over on the sidebar. (Although they're very cool little gadgets, which you can find at StoryToolz, along with other nifty writer toys.) The primary reason for that is because I am gradually learning to use all the tools available to me through WriteWay, which I have learned to love. It actually has more bells and whistles than I currently use, but I've found that it suits my writing process very well. My planning process, which involves everything from word webs and diagrams on the back of recycled paper to index cards to an Excel worksheet, ends with a basic "outline." The outline is really just a list of scenes I know I'll need, cobbled together into the order they need to happen and sorted into chapters and acts based on a mostly-arbitrary method. (Mostly having to do with limiting the number of scenes per chapter into a small enough chunk that the writer does not become frightened and flee the project before it even starts.)

WriteWay is a word processing program with a sidebar which organizes your document into acts, chapters, and scenes. Which matches up so very neatly with my working outline. Perfectly, even. And which you can use to move scenes and chapters from place to place simply by dragging the scene or chapter title, without having to find the section and cut and paste. My mind freaks upon seeing massive chunks of text, so it's perfect for me--I see one manageable piece of the story at a time, with the big picture off to the left in one tidy list.

And it has a built-in word count tracker. With graphs, and reports that show word or page count goals and actuals and adjusts automatically to show the minimum count required to stay on goal, and reports that show how many words or pages you have for each scene, chapter, and act. Shiny! And simple, which helps to prevent me from spending too much time fussing with it.

In the meantime, summer is off to an appropriately lazy start, for the most part. Michael has been off to swim lessons, and both boys have been helping with chores. But there has also been much reading the afternoon away and video gaming and just sitting around talking. Joe's best buddy has been gone the last few days, so they've been on the phone for nearly two hours now, catching up.

Yeah. Tell me again about girls and phones?

On towards the wilderness

2009-06-09T13:56:00.008-04:00

The 7,100 words I had on Friday morning were the same 7,100 words I had come Monday morning. The guys got home a few hours earlier than I'd anticipated, so I said to heck with writing productivity. I printed hard copy and tried to work in some revision time over the weekend, but by and large nothing much got accomplished. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that come summer's end, I'd regret not spending time with the kids far more than I'd regret not getting so much as a single word more written. I have tossed my formal scheduling tendencies over my shoulder and am attempting to take a more relaxed attitude for the summer.

I can do this. It's only 10 weeks, even a control freak like me can manage to wing it (mostly) for that long, surely? Apparently I can, because I got another 900 words written yesterday. I need to work out a couple of kinks in my mind before I write the next scene, but I'm pretty sure I know the basics. The house is quiet at the moment, too, so I should probably be working on that instead of here. Oh well.

No word back from Steeple Hill yet. Their estimated turnaround time is three months, and I've heard of them taking as long as six to get back to people, so I'm not really holding my breath. Having a new project (or three) to work on really does help keep your mind off the projects that are out of your control.

I'm breaking to you

2009-06-05T10:14:00.003-04:00

I ended last night with 7,100 words and a pretty solid idea how the next scene needs to go. I'm at the last couple of scenes of act 2, with a handful of scribbled notes on my outline about things I need to go back and fix and/or shore up in earlier scenes. I have yet to decide if I'll go back first or just charge ahead. Probably back, since I'm finding that re-reading/revising at least the most recently written scene is not only good for that scene, but also for the next one I launch myself into from there.

This morning has been given over to grocery shopping and some minor housework. I flipped on the cd player in the kitchen while putting stuff away, and lo and behold there was a Foos cd inside. They managed to wriggle onto the novella's soundtrack after all.

The guys will be back sometime today, I'm guessing early afternoon, depending on what time they left the brother-in-law's house this morning. And then Joe is off to a sleepover at a friend's house this evening, and swim lessons start Monday morning, and summer officially begins. Crossed fingers that I will figure out how to block out some writing time while still being a good mom.

Sometimes I get nervous when I see an open door

2009-06-04T10:42:00.009-04:00

The novella is moving along. I struggled a little last night to find my hero's voice when I got to his first viewpoint scene. A few replays of emo Goo Goo Dolls songs finally did the trick. I hit my word count goal, so I'm starting this morning with almost 5,000 words, which is 1/3 of the 15,000 word goal for the story. So I went to bed last night thinking about the next scene, and with an uneasy feeling that I was missing something. And this morning I woke up and realized that what's missing is a sense of urgency. There is a Terrible Thing That Must Be Done, and of course the two main characters are all angsty about wishing they didn't have to do it. But there's no real consequence if they DON'T do the Terrible Thing.

We can fix that. And I came up with the perfect, awful price for disobedience in the shower this morning. I think. It's a start, anyhow. I need to add at least one scene to the first act to make it work, and it changes my idea for how the next scene needs to go. But I think I'm on the right track.

Upon request, I have resumed slapping song lyrics into my blog titles. They may be a bit more random than previously, and possibly simply whatever snags my attention from what I'm listening to when blogging time rolls around. Although now that I know people were actually, like, paying attention, I might also start making them a bit more obscure and challenging.

In the meantime, the novella has a growing soundtrack. No title yet, but hey, I have my priorities.

"Name" Goo Goo Dolls
"Iris" Goo Goo Dolls
(Which serve as the angsty, emo themes for both my main characters, actually. And also for Loki in a different story. Hmm.)
"Welcome to the Jungle" Guns N' Roses
(Loki's theme song. Must. Not. Let. Him. Take. Over...)
"Afterlife" Avenged Sevenfold
"Through the Fire and Flames" Dragonforce
"The Running Free" Coheed and Cambria
(Yes, I've been raiding my kids' playlists again. The big, epic, melodramatic metal-but-still-melodic sound seems appropriate for this one.)

Foos have not managed to wheedle their way into this soundtrack yet. You're slacking, guys.

Back to work. I have 1,250 words waiting for me to write them today.

Everybody look down, it's all in your mind

2009-06-03T11:49:00.006-04:00

A conversation with a writerly friend today raised a topic which I have discussed frequently and at great length with my children and myself. I'd asked about a story he's been working on, and he replied that he wasn't sure he was going to nail it as he'd hoped to, but that he hated to have wasted time on it for nothing.

I am a perfectionist at heart. I do not like to fail. And I'm a natural enough learner that for several years in school, I never had to fail. I didn't learn early on the value of taking risks and learning from my mistakes. Mistakes were for other people. I was not allowed. (Note that this is not an attitude I blame on my parents. I was born with it, apparently.) I can distinctly recall a boy in my 5th or 6th grade class, flailing around on the gym floor as he tried to learn how to walk on his hands. He tried to entice me into trying it, too, and an argument followed, which ended something like this:

Him: "At least I'm trying to learn something new."
Me: "At least I don't look like an idiot trying to do something I know I can't."

I've learned a few things since then. (I hope.) I've had to pound them into my own brain repeatedly, and if you quote a few of the following lines at my kids, they'll roll their eyes and say "You've been talking to my mom, haven't you?" But these are truths that bear repeating:

No attempt to do something is a waste of time, regardless of the result. If you put effort into it, if you thought about it, dreamed about it, struggled with it, then chances are you learned something from it. Learning is not a waste of time. Ever.

It's OK to fall down. Yeah, I know it hurts. I know you feel kinda dumb right now. But at least you tried. (See the above paragraph.)

A mistake is only a mistake if you don't learn from it.

If you need me, I'll be over here making an idiot of myself and hoping I learn something from it.

Single-minded

2009-06-01T19:46:00.007-04:00

I met my word count goal for last week, although I had to work on Saturday. Actually, I exceeded it, winding up with something over 7,000 words. With five scenes completed and the rest of the book roughly outlined, I feel comfortable stating that I could finish that novel in something like three months. The plot feels solid, and I like the characters. Once upon a time, I'd have been terrified to look away from the story, for fear I'd lose it if I didn't pay it my undivided attention.

However.

I am feeling a confidence I haven't felt before. I suddenly find myself at this place where I no longer struggle trying to figure out how to turn a vague idea into a story. I can do it. I have done it. I know what games to play with myself, and I'm growing comfortable enough with my process that I can pick up and lay aside stories in progress and pick them up again later. I, like, know what I'm doing.

I'll wait a few seconds here for the lightning strike.

OK. Safe for the moment. So, on Sunday, I was moved by the urge to work on something, since all this peace and quiet keeps shouting that I should USE it, by God. And I caught up on some reading Saturday, and I'm not terribly in a gaming mood. So I sat down and opened up a new OneNotes tab for Crowmaker, because my old notebook for it is cramped with old ideas and I've been having new ideas (kinda). And I spent pretty much the entire day Sunday working my way through the part of the planning process that I previously skipped on Crowmaker (thinking at the time that I needed to try to be more of a seat-of-the-pants writer). (And I won't say it didn't work, because I think I can trace a lot of the really good stuff about that story back to that experimental, don't plan too much approach to that existing first draft.) And I like the work I accomplished, and I feel good about going back to that novel--next week.

Because THEN, just to be really crazy, I spent today working on a novella I'd started planning just before I got the ms request from Steeple Hill. And I'm incredibly excited about that story now, too. (I bet none of you knew that Loki looks like a very young, Nirvana-era Dave Grohl. The proof is here. And no, the novella isn't about Loki, but he does make an appearance.) The plan is to make this story my "vacation" project and see how much I can get done by Friday.

Or until the naps capture me. Either way, it's been a good writing vacation thus far.

In a mood to malinger

2009-05-29T17:36:00.004-04:00

As anticipated, no writing happened on Tuesday, but I'd written enough on Monday to make up for it. Wednesday I hit my goal, but Thursday I fell short again. I managed to spit out not quite 300 words, but life got in the way for most of the day. The scene I was working on is the one where my two main characters first meet each other, and they both abruptly clammed up and had NOTHING to say. I sat them both down and got to know them better Thursday evening, and then tried again today after the guys cleared out for Wisconsin. I'm just a couple hundred words short of catching up from yesterday, and then I should be able to catch up on today's goal over the weekend.

After a last-minute trip for new tires on the truck and a spurt of packing the last few things they needed, the hubby and the boys left for their annual fishing trip late this morning. I was utterly unable to accomplish any writing while they were still home, because I was in one of those moods where I just can't stand the idea of sitting down and just getting into a rhythm and then being interrupted. So I let it slide. A nap tried to claim me this afternoon, but I managed to evade it.

Sneaky, dastardly naps.

School daze

2009-05-25T16:17:00.004-04:00

I finished planning and pre-writing work on my second inspirational romance last week, took a couple of days to just unwind and read for fun, and started in on first draft today. I got a solid 1,900 words done, which took me almost to the end of the first scene. I'd like to wrap up the scene later today, with another 400-500 words. My goal is 1,200 words a day, five days a week, but tomorrow will likely be taken up with other activities, and I prefer to do my makeup writing ahead of time rather than after. Still, I'm pretty satisfied with the day's work.

Some of the world-building and plot threads of Crowmaker have begun rising to the surface and unraveling themselves lately. Depending on how my available writing time shakes out over the summer, I may do some work on it off and on, too. Or maybe I'll just let it continue to open up in my mind. The world and its people have begun to feel real to me, and I'm less in the frantic "OMG, must write it down before I forget!" frame of mind. So I feel less driven and more simply bemused by that project. I feel like it's there and it's not going away, so although I enjoy rolling the shape of it around in my mind, I'm not going to lose it if I don't drop what I'm doing rightthisverysecond and try to capture it. I also feel like I'm growing to understand even more about my craft as I work on the inspirational romances, so that what I'm learning from those can only make any other novel I write even stronger.

This will be the last week of the school year for the boys. After our weekly grocery shopping tomorrow morning, I will be chaperoning a fifth grade field trip to a farm and pond. After it rained last night and most of today. And there's a chance of storms tomorrow. It could become very interesting. Tomorrow evening is the 8th grade graduation, for which the 7th grade traditionally prepares and works the reception. I'll be over there most of the evening to help out. So tomorrow as a writing day isn't looking likely. Wed. should be a good catch-up day, but Thursday is a half day and the last day, and we have a couple of extra kids coming home with us followed by a vet appointment later in the afternoon. Possibly some writing can happen that day, but it will have to happen in random pockets of found time.

Friday, the guys pack up and leave on their annual fishing trip with the hubby's brothers and their sons. Much quiet will ensue. Hopefully, much writing will also ensue, but there might have to be some naps, too.

The hardest part is beginning

2009-05-17T14:00:00.004-04:00

After finishing the inspirational romance and getting it in the mail, I indulged in some slacking to refresh my tired brain. I also caught up on some reading, however, so even the slacker days had some productivity. Someone asked last night what I was working on now, and I asked myself that same question over the last couple of weeks--what now? Because just waiting to hear back on a finished story is never the right answer. First of all, on the off chance they do like the story, they'll eventually want to know if I have another. And I'll want to have another to send to them while the iron is hot, even if they don't ask. And probably more importantly, waiting can drive you crazy. Better to find a new project to throw myself into.

I'm in a place right now where I've tapped into some well of "yes, this is where I need to be" regarding the inspirational romances. I don't know that it's the romance part that draws me, so much as the inspirational part. And I do think that at some level, my attraction to them is at a craftsman's level. These are shorter than your big epic fantasy novels. The situations are more simple and straightforward. The plotting is more linear. This allows me to really see how everything works together and learn how to make it work for me, too. Prior to writing the first romance, I spent some time reading published samples to see what made them tick. I've since gone even further and completely deconstructed a sample in an attempt to see how each piece is constructed and how they all fit together. I feel like I've learned a great deal that I can apply to a next romance, and that's what I started on this weekend--planning a second inspirational romance. Part of me itches to be working on other stories, Crowmaker especially. But I don't so much feel that I've turned aside onto a different path, as that I've been trying to leap across a chasm, and I've just found a previously-obscured path that leads to the promised land on the far side. This path may take me a longer, windier way than the big leap, but the likelihood of making it in one piece is greater. Everything I write, no matter the genre or form or eventual state of publication (or non-publication), is a learning experience. The process of writing a story teaches me something new every time, and it informs the next story I write.

So, yeah. I feel much more settled than I have in a long time. I haven't been soaring with white-hot inspiration and then diving into doing no work at all for days at a time. I find I'm able to keep a steady pace and figure out how to move ahead when I get stuck. One step at a time. One day at a time.

In other news, school is out for the summer in less than two weeks. I am so looking forward to the break. My daytime writing hours may shrink in number, but I've learned how to be more productive in less time, too. And I've had some success in acclimating myself to writing in the evenings, so I may be able to simply juggle my hours around instead of giving some up. We'll see. Even if not, it'll be nice to have a break from fundraiser requests and subbing at school.

Something magic out of something frightening

2009-05-08T11:44:00.002-04:00

The Steeple Hill project has been tucked into its mailer and handed over to the post office. At this point, I have mixed feelings about it. Gut instinct says it's a solid story, although I'm sure it could have been stronger in some areas. There are scenes I think I nailed, and others that I can only hope are well-crafted enough for the editor to see the promise of a salable story.

And, after 4 days of 8+ hours a day spent on line editing, I'm still hearing the voice of my inner grammar and style critic every time I so much as glance at a written word. Time to unwind! Maybe a nap...

Hugs and hearts to all my amazing friends. Even though you only caught glimpses of me this week, you crammed tons of support and encouragement into that handful of minutes.

Love you guys!

With a little perseverance you can get things done

2009-05-04T17:28:00.005-04:00

With an estimated turnaround time of 3 months on queries to Steeple Hill, I should have plenty of time to finish the rewrite this week and then let the ms cool a week or two before a final polishing read-through.

(quoting silly me from a couple weeks ago)

So. Mailed the query letter April 24. Finished the rewrite on May 1 and set the ms aside to cool for a couple of weeks before a final once-over and waiting out the remainder of the 3 months turnaround time.

Got a letter requesting the full ms today. (It was dated April 29. Good God, these people must be really on top of things.)

Brief elation dance, followed by brief panic dance, followed by settling down to start that final once-over um, today.

Apparently, I DO know how to write a decent query letter, after all. Now let's see if I wrote a decent novel.

If you need me, I'll be chained to my desk with a supply of red pens and a stack of ms. Crossed fingers, good vibes, and/or prayers are always welcome.

My sign is vital, my hands are cold

2009-04-29T09:24:00.003-04:00

Rewrite of the current project is continuing at a steady pace, after which I will set it aside for a couple of weeks before a final once-over. I've started spending the first part of the day on the rewrite, and the second part of the day on a combination of catching up on reading, playing with some additional world-building work I've decided I need to do for Crowmaker before I proceed with anything resembling writing or revision, and fiddling with a short idea story that cropped up the other day. I feel like it's a good balance of left-brained activity, right-brained activity, and feeding the muse from outside sources.

Day two of clouds and rain. Here's hoping for a return to sunshine soon!

Through dust and heat

2009-04-26T15:33:00.005-04:00

Last Tuesday it was 40 degrees all day long, with intermittent downpours of rain mixed with sleet. Yesterday, we had to finally cave in and turn on the air conditioning. (OK, so it had more to do with Joey's allergies slamming him but good than with the actual outside temperature. Still, it got into the 80's yesterday and today.)

The boys had a grandparents' day at school on Friday, and my parents were both able come out and attend it this year. (They're in Illinois, but it's still a 6 hour or so drive.) They arrived Thursday afternoon and left on Saturday morning, so I got to have a nice visit with them and yet still have my coveted writing time each day. Was pretty cool.

Today, I tackled the game room in the basement, which is where the boys have their computers and their plethora of game consoles, along with the attendant tangle of cords and an assortment of bookshelves, file cabinets, and big wicker baskets full of magazines and yet more books. The toy corner is cleaned out, at least, since one of our projects for spring break was shoveling outgrown toys into bag and boxes for Goodwill. (I am mildly embarrassed at the sheer quantity of STUFF we have hauled to Goodwill the last couple of weeks. I'm trying to view it as a reminder of how fortunate we are.) But all the electronics in that one room act as a sort of dust magnet, and it had been a while since I actually pulled out furniture and dusted/swept behind and under it. Ugh. So yeah. That was MY fun for the day.

Got a good halfway through the rewrite of the current project last week. Polished a query and synopsis and mailed those out on Friday. With an estimated turnaround time of 3 months on queries to Steeple Hill, I should have plenty of time to finish the rewrite this week and then let the ms cool a week or two before a final polishing read-through. I'm finding that the rewrite is mostly filling in gaps, as I'd suspected, and that there are entire scenes which give me that little tingle of "Hey, this is pretty good. Did I really write that?" I'm pleased with the ms for the stage that it's in, I have a clear idea what remains to be done to it, and I'm reasonably confident in my ability to finish the work. Then it's just a matter of waiting to see if anything comes of the query.

Speaking of queries, Allison Brennan, who submitted the query for her published novel to Nathan Bransford's Agent for a Day contest, has offered a thought-provoking post over at Murderati today. (She's commented in a couple of other places about other aspects of the contest, too, but I'll let you follow those links from her post.)

Side note: I've removed Murderati from my sidebar because I couldn't get their new blog to show up properly there.* But I read it daily, despite not being a suspense/thriller reader or writer. Cool bunch of writers for whom I have a great deal of respect and from whom I've learned a number of interesting things. Go visit them sometime.

*We all saw that coming, didn't we? As soon as I posted and went to fiddle with my layout, the Murderati link worked. So it IS on my sidebar now. You should still go visit them sometime.

About that new project

2009-04-21T12:27:00.005-04:00

Yeah, I know. I've been kinda close-mouthed on my current project. I have mixed feelings about it, so I've avoided talking about it much. Which is ridiculous, since everyone reading this has been uber-supportive and all kinds of wonderful.

Most of my qualms are knee-jerk reactions stemming from the genre and my target market for this story. I mentioned already that it's an inspirational romance. The publisher I intend to target is Steeple Hill, which is an imprint of Harlequin. So, yeah. Category romance. And you know, as a writer of fantasy fiction, I should be above the whole inward-cringe-at-the-mention-of-genre-fiction. I've read a number of the Love Inspired books, and some of them I found not-so-interesting and reliant on cliche. But then, some of them were well-written and entertaining and even touching, albeit in a light-and-fluffy way. And you know, I'd probably come away with diverse opinions regarding individual books from pretty much any genre I chose to sample. (And have. Direct yourselves toward my foray into sampling YA fiction. Which I would link, if I actually remembered where to find it. Man, someone needs to put better labels on these blog posts.)

How did I make the leap from writing/plotting/planning YA fantasy and over to inspirational romance? At one point I'd done some research into Harlequin's supernatural/paranormal romance lines. I concluded at that time that I wasn't sure I was a natural for writing the general type of story they published in that line. As I was thinking idly about the Loki story one day a couple of months ago, it struck me that story's plot might work as a paranormal romance as easily as for a YA fantasy. (And maybe more, since there were a lot of overtly sexual themes emerging from the plot line. Reference my gtalk tagline: "The Norse gods were sluts.") At the same time, I'd been doing a lot of musing about how my natural story-telling style seems more straightforward than the complex world-building and plot-weaving I'd been doing for Crowmaker and then for Loki. And about how spiritual themes seem to shove themselves to the forefront of almost everything I write. And I stumbled across the Steeple Hill guidelines, and a little click sounded somewhere deep in my brain.

The basic plot formula for an inspirational romance (or Christian romance, more accurately) is fairly simple. Romance is about the personal development of two individuals and their romance with each other and the ways in which they and their romantic involvement change each other. An inspirational romance adds the relationships of each individual with God to the mix. I had a basic idea almost immediately, I hashed out a plot over a weekend in early March, and I blasted out a first draft over the course of... 6 weeks? 7? The word count requirement for the line is 55,000-60,000, which suits my tendency to write short and sweet.

What I've discovered while writing this story:

I started out half-thinking I would bore myself to tears midway through and have to force myself to finish in an effort to have something to throw at an "easy" sell publisher. I expected to feel like I was selling out. I do not feel that way. I like this story. I have begun the revision process, which for me involves layering in setting and mood and theme and additional character development bits. I find that I am excited about how well this story is turning out. I think I will be proud of the writing, even if the story itself never finds a home or earns rave reviews.

The writing has been easier than on recent projects, but not in a white-heat inspiration kind of way. Rather, I simply feel like I have a better grasp on what I'm doing. I am able to think to myself "I want to have this effect on the reader," and then I see how to manage it. I feel like I know what I'm doing. I feel like I am in control of the story, or rather that I am balancing with confidence on that tightrope between right and left brain functions as I am telling the story. It's a pretty good feeling.

Did I mention that I feel like I know what I'm doing? I've struggled for years to figure out a writing process that works for me. I feel like with this project, all the little bits and pieces I've picked up here and there are coalescing into a single, powerful process for me. Which vindicates my long-held belief that writing is like many other skills: You can't just pick up and do it. You can't just memorize a list of rules and procedures. You have to focus on the fine points of technique and practice them individually and often and to the best of your ability. And not only do you get better with practice, but eventually, hopefully, the individual things you do begin to internalize themselves and become part of a whole process.

Or maybe I'm just fooling myself, and the smoothness of this project is just a fluke.

I don't know how good this story will really be, objectively speaking. I don't know if I'll be able to sell it to Steeple Hill or to anyplace else. I do think that I am learning and growing as a writer from working through this story, though. I do think it will be a decent story, and I do think it's been worth my while to write and will be worth my while to continue working on.

Even as Crowmaker bubbles and boils and murmurs in the background.

Going down swinging

2009-04-20T12:05:00.007-04:00

Agent Nathan Bransford hosted an "Agent for a Day" contest last week, in a brave effort to educate non-agents (and especially writers) on the joys and agonies of the slush pile. In summary, he asked for volunteers to submit queries (real or make-believe). Then he planted three queries for books that went on to be published into the midst of the other queries and posted 50 queries over the course of one day and invited contest participants to put on their agent hats and pick the wheat from the chaff.

On a whim, since the queries did not have to be for completed manuscripts, I cobbled together a query letter for Crowmaker and submitted it. It wound up being one that Mr. Bransford used for the contest. The results were posted today.

Mine wound up ranked toward the middle of the pack--but then, so did two of the real deal queries. I did not participate in the agent side of the contest, but I followed it with interest. A short list of things I learned from the experience:

1. Attempting to write a query letter for Crowmaker was a struggle, in large part because I had to condense the plot into a couple of paragraphs. I didn't do so well, judging by the feedback I received, in part because I caved to my inbred tendency to say what I have to say as quickly as possible and then get out of the way so as not to make a pest of myself. In a query, the idea is to not be quick, but to be interesting and thus make the person WANT you to stick around. Even if I nailed the basic plot (and I'm not saying I did), I failed to deliver on the flavor of the story. It's the difference between a list of ingredients and "mmm, yummy, mint chocolate chip ice cream."

2. In the course of attempting to condense the plot of Crowmaker for the query letter, I had to do some hard thinking about what Crowmaker is right now and what I want it to be when it's done. So yeah, I spent an hour or two fussing over a letter for no apparent good reason. But I also clarified for myself some of the work that's left ahead of me when I get back to that first draft and start building it into a finished draft.

3. I have a draft of a query letter for Crowmaker that is a good starting point for a real query at some point in the future. Even better, I have specific (and really good) suggestions on how to make it a better, stronger query letter. And I have the comments people left on other queries to measure against my own reactions to those queries, as well as a number of eye-opening "OK, I can see why that works/doesn't work" moments. (Defensive note: I did not want to include the suck-up paragraph at the top. I hate the suck-up paragraphs. But after looking at a couple of example letters, I decided having a suck-up paragraph was probably a good idea, even if I hated it. I think I was wrong. Which means I was right. Or something.)

4. Even if you have the best query letter ever, even if you have a publishable story, a huge portion of the submission game boils down to subjectivity, timing, and luck. It's in my best interest to do the best job I can on everything I have control over, and a lot of praying over the things I don't.

5. Even if it ever came to it, I'm not sure I could ever have Agent Nathan as my agent. I'd be too distracted by the urge to muss his hair and tell him what a sweet boy he is. If Dave Grohl is the nicest guy in rock, then Bransford might very well be the Dave Grohl of agenting. (Because I haven't mentioned the Foos in far too long.)

In other news, the first draft of the other project is done, as are the first drafts of a query letter and synopsis for it. More details to follow.

A little help from my friends

2009-04-19T16:00:00.003-04:00

So much for the idea of using the ottoman as a desk.

The final countdown

2009-04-15T12:40:00.008-04:00

Having planted in my brain an 80's song I haven't thought of since... well, the 80's, I continue with today's blog post. (Link warning: Youtube, tight leather pants, and big hair.)

The current project has reached the end of act 2. The plot boulder is perched atop the mountain and ready to be nudged into rolling down the other side. The word count is in the appropriate vicinity for this point in the plot, and the plot seems to have held together quite well for the duration of the story. I estimate another 3,000-4,000 words worth of first draft to THE END, and then I can go back and start filling in the most obvious of the gaping holes. Most of that will involve anchoring existing scenes into the physical setting with some actual sensory description of some kind. (The part of writing which never comes intuitively for me, so I always have to go back and color it in.) I don't think that declaring my intention to finish the rough by end of day Friday would be over-estimating my abilities. (Barring the occurrence of sick children, dog, or self.)

In other news, today is pick-up day for the school's cookie dough sale. Gallon buckets of cookie dough, just for me.

I mean, us. Just for us. That's what I meant.

State of the writer

2009-04-14T09:55:00.003-04:00

Following a long weekend (kids and hubby were home 1/2 day on Good Friday and boys had yesterday off, too), the writer is back at her desk. Today's activity? A good old-fashioned tug-of-war between "this story sucks and so do I" and "this story is SO close to done, no way am I stopping now." Good sense is winning thus far, but I have the headache to show for the efforts.

I subbed at school last Thursday--for the third grade this time. Oh boy. Great kids, too much chaos for my poor little control freak, introvert brain. We all survived and even managed to get most of the work accomplished that their teacher left. I loved the kids, but I was still really, really, really glad when that last bell rang. One of my fourth grade tutorees stood with me as I was watching over the third and fourth grade out in the pickup line and chatted my ear off. She told me that she was sure she'd passed her math ISTEP this time, and she hoped she got me again next time she had to have a tutor. And then, after regaling me with (unrelated) tales about trampolines and dachsund puppies and her mom's adventures in nursing school, she informed me that I was really fun to talk to.

There's part of me that really wishes I could handle the chaos on a regular basis, because yeah, I really do love the getting-to-know-the-kids part of it. Although then I'd have a whole roomful of children to let go of every year. I'm pretty sure I'd suffer some emotional distress over that.

The current project weighs in today at 39,500 words. I'm shoving the story boulder up that final slope toward the climax, and although I know what happens, finding the specific words to make it happen is proving to be harder work than I expected. WHY I expected it to be less difficult, I'm not sure. In the future I will lower my expectations.

Back to work. One slogging step after another.

Hello goodbye

2009-04-03T16:24:00.008-04:00

Day two of cleaning out assorted closets. I thought today would be easier, since we are done with the stuffed animals and obviously "oh, my baby" items. Board games and assorted science kits seemed like pretty safe territory.

I should know better by now.

I strongly doubt I am the only mother who experiences this. I know that last night when I mentioned I'd had a rough day of cleaning out kid toys to give away, pretty much everyone assumed I meant it had been physically tiring--except the other mothers in the chat channel, who immediately understood that my distress was emotional.

Maybe there are moms out there who are way better at this than I am, but going through my children's belongings--toys, clothes, school papers, ANYTHING--is an emotionally stressful experience for me. Every item has a memory attached to it. Which seems like it would make for a happy journey down memory lane, and it does. Remember my post about how watching my children grow involves a great deal of some emotion that is an equal mix of joy and sorrow? I pick up the plastic dinosaur skeletons, and I hear two little boys at the table on the back deck, clanging merrily at the chunk of fake rock in search of "fossils," and I smell the summer air and the lazy hum of background traffic through the open door. I empty the ancient cardboard box of dried up markers into the trash, and I remember the smell of marker and crayon mingled with cinnamon and vanilla while I made French toast and they presented me with pictures peppered with scribbles and stickers. Even the damned Yu Gi Oh and Pokemon cards bring wistful memories, even though I cringed every time they insisted on spending their allowances on them.

It's not that I want to go back, so much. I love who my boys are now just as much as I loved who they were then. But every item I put in a bag or a box or the trash is a mindful goodbye to the babies I will never again rock and the little boys who will never again bring me a collection of crickets in their bug boxes or beg me to save the spider on the back porch from the Terminix guy. And I suppose we all know, at some level, that every day is a little bit of a goodbye and a little bit of a hello. It's just that most days I'm not fully aware of it, and so on days like yesterday and today, it all catches up and breaks my heart all at once.

I still have the toyboxes in the basement to get through. But oh, I think my heart has had enough for one day.

Dog day

2009-04-03T11:20:00.003-04:00

Puppycat.

After being ignored for too long while begging from Mom's side, the ever-resourceful huntress tries a more aggressive approach--climb beneath the desk and shove your head up below the keyboard tray until Mom CANNOT deny your existence.

OMG, DOG MUST HAVE SNACK RIGHTTHISVERYSECOND!

STARVING!

Big bears and little boys

2009-04-02T13:35:00.002-04:00

On our spring cleaning project list for today: the boys' closets and desks, in search of stuff they've outgrown. The first thing Michael-Monster pulled out and added to the pile of stuff he's ready to give away? Big Bear, the over-sized grizzly who once knew so much love that he's nearly flat.

I am hiding at my computer desk, trying to regain emotional control so that I don't burst into tears when I go back up to help him with the rest of his room.

No news is good news

2009-04-01T13:24:00.004-04:00

We are spring breaking this week. Very little writing has happened, but I'd planned on that so I'm not upset by it. The boys and I have done a little Warcraft 3, a lot of spring cleaning, and some making of pico and brownies. (And I remembered to buy ice cream this morning to go with them. Mmmm.)

Not terribly warm this week, but today we have sunshine. All is good.

But still I can do something

2009-03-23T16:04:00.004-04:00

Productivity!

On the writing front, I have 20,000 words of my current project completed. It has no title yet, so it is much like the puppy you just brought home, which shows promise of growing into those big paws but which has not yet presented you with the name it wishes to be called. I continue to be alternately frustrated and amused by my daily struggle with word count. Dragging myself to the minimum count of 750 words/day is torture--but once I hit it and tell myself I can officially stop for the day, I'll keep thinking of "one more scene" to add. Upon checking my word count for today, I found I've added 2,500 words. This draft is pretty rough, mostly just a blocking in of action and dialogue. But I've come to believe that my writing process is more layering than straight write-one-draft-and-then-revise. I block in the plot, then I layer in additional scenes to make sure the individual threads of character development and plot and subplot are clear, and then I layer in whatever physical and sensory descriptions I've skipped over. So far, so good.

Thought of the day, brought to you via a homily given quite a few years ago by our parish priest. The topic was technically marriage, but the theme was commitment, and the line (paraphrased) I recall most vividly was this: That commitment is not something you simply decide once and then do, but rather a choice you make anew every single day. It was a light bulb moment for me, because I had often struggled with my commitment to become a writer. I would have a day where I felt very passionate about it and would commit to pursuing my dream--and then a week later I'd have a bad day and just give up. And then I would feel guilty because I was weak and couldn't commit to my dream. For some reason, up until that homily, it had not occurred to me that I could just take it one day at a time. If I had a bad day, I didn't have to guilt myself into giving up forever and ever.

If I tried to carry the weight of guilt for every imperfect day, the burden would soon be so great that I'd be unable to continue on. But if I lay down that guilt at the end of a bad day, and on the next day renew my commitment to go on--just for THAT day--then the burden is so much lighter. And I can keep going. And no matter how many imperfect days, I am still further along my path than if I simply gave up and never tried at all.

Maybe the season

2009-03-17T10:34:00.003-04:00

Yes, I have been quieter than usual lately. And I know that some of you will worry if you don't hear from me now and then, so let me just say that I am not quiet because I am in the middle of a blue funk. Quite the opposite, for the moment. The sun has been shining, and while I have been wrestling with questions of a spiritual, "where is my life going?" nature (as if THAT is anything new), I have also been on a mostly even emotional keel. I have also written over 12,000 words on my new little side project, as well as dealing with the every day mother and housewife stuff, as well as making sure I make time to just hang out with my guys.

So yes, quiet. But not in any bad way.

Self-definition, truth, and a busman's holiday

2009-03-11T16:43:00.005-04:00

(I am really lazy about the labels on my blog entries, in case no one had noticed yet. If any of my half dozen readers ever really want to find a specific entry, they're going to have their work cut out for them.)

I've done quite a bit of writing the last couple of days. It's been work, but it's been a very rewarding, straightforward kind of work, unlike the frenzied flailing about in the dark that Crowmaker has often resembled. I am able to determine what a scene needs, do whatever research I need, and write the scene--and then move on with the comfortable feeling that what I've written, while imperfect, will hold up the framework I'm building for the rest of the story. It's a very different feeling for me, and I kind of like it.

The story itself is a departure from anything I've written before, to some extent. It should fall into the category of inspirational romance when it's done, I suspect, and I've never written a flat out romance before. I have written stories with a smack of inspirational theme in them, I guess.

Actually, if I nail myself down, almost everything I write has a spiritual theme involved. There's a search for truth and enlightenment in my fiction that reflects my personal search. Maybe that's related to the "write what you know" rule: Write the answers you're looking for.

In all honesty, this story does not excite me in the way Crowmaker does. It has no wow factor for me currently. But it does seem to be growing a quiet presence--you know, that feeling a story starts to have at the moment when it transitions from something you're writing to something with a life of its own. It is a VERY quiet presence, though. Maybe that's part of the reason it feels more like work (in a good sense, as in yes, work, but it feels good to accomplish something) and less like a rollercoaster of white-hot inspirational peaks and valleys of overwhelming confusion.

Maybe it also has something to do with being the first work of non-speculative fiction I've done in a long while. Unlike many spec fic writers, I am NOT a compulsive world builder. I don't feel compelled to fritter away hours thinking up every little detail of how the world of my story works. I will build those details, yes, but only on an as-needed basis. And then it's work. Hard work. Gives me a headache and makes me want to scream work. And maybe there's a lesson for me in that, somewhere.

Which is not to say I won't finish Crowmaker. I will. I have poured too much of myself into that story, and more importantly, I still believe in that story too much to let it sit fallow forever here on my desk.

But this week, in keeping with my recent decision to do less micro-managing of my writing process according to how "everyone" says it ought to be done, I am going to continue to work on this other project. Because I feel like it. And I will continue to work on it...

Until I get tired of it and feel reenergized about Crowmaker again. Which could be, y'know... Any given moment.

Which possibly sounds wishy-washy and undisciplined and like a thing someone who only talks about being a real writer would say. But I know that I am putting real effort into my writing, and I know that I have a modicum of talent and more than a modicum of determination. So I hereby give myself permission to sound however I happen to sound.

Go me!

Head on without a care

2009-03-09T13:40:00.004-04:00

The first part of last week was great. I accomplished a great deal of plot-untangling for Crowmaker and managed to work out all the big kinks leading up to the ending. I also have more than a vague idea how the story really ends. (Although I'm not sure. Which is fine, because not knowing for sure is part of what keeps me wanting to work on a story.) I also uncovered a big question important to the story making sense, and I have yet to determine exactly how I will answer that question. I have some vague ideas, but I am letting them stew for the time being.

Round about Thursday morning, with no tangible work left to do on Crowmaker for the moment aside from the stewing, the blues caught up with me again. I spent most of Thursday and Friday reading, which is fine because reading is good for writing, but which for some reason never feels enough like work to prevent me from adding guilt to the blues mix. The weekend was spent on catching up on household stuff, which is tangible, and which does feel enough like work to banish the guilt portion of the blues. Come this morning, I was able to sit down with some notes I'd scribbled over the weekend and start working again, although not solely on Crowmaker.

Beautiful veins and bloodshot eyes

2009-02-27T17:33:00.004-05:00

Recap of the week, in part to remind myself where the hell it went:

Monday: Untangled several tangled scenes in the next section of Crowmaker. Wrote down a few more lines of the creepy buffalo story. (Which really doesn't feature buffalo at all, oddly enough.)

Tuesday: More scene untangling in Crowmaker. Finished a really rough draft of creepy buffalo story and sent it off to my beloved first readers. The oldest son compared it to something from a Tad Williams' story--"You know, one of the parts where it's from the point of view of some really crazy person." Also spent 1.5 hours picking up a group of juniors from the closest Catholic high school and bringing them to our school for a presentation. Went back to school later for a tutoring session.

Wednesday: Did some research into a couple of markets I'd noticed in passing a while back, which do podcasts of previously published stories. Dug up a couple of my previously pubbed fictions, gussied up the formatting to suit the markets, and submitted them. Sighed heavily when one came back with a rejection less than 6 hours later. Yay for prompt replies? Also carted boys back and forth to their programming class.

Thursday: Spent more time than I should have pouting over the latest rejection and playing the "I'll never be published again" mind game. Caught up on reading the latest short fiction at some of my favorite ezines. Pouted more because either a) that story is so much better than anything I'll ever write so I may as well just give up now or b) my stuff is so much better than that I can't believe they bought that one and not mine. Remembered with fond nostalgia the good old days when I could just read a story and either liked it or not and didn't spend an hour or longer picking it apart later. Also put in an hour on my last tutoring session.

Friday: Caught up on more reading, convinced myself to pick up on Crowmaker again next week, and spent 4 hours subbing at the school's extended care. Crashed in my big comfy chair for a 20 minute catnap when we got home, because preschoolers, while adorable and wonderful and really a pretty good bunch of kids, still drain my brain. Did a blog entry listing my accomplishments for the week in order to convince myself that the week was not a complete waste. Ignored the husband who came in and started talking to me, completely oblivious to the fact that I was pretty obviously in the middle of something, give me a sec to finish it up, mm'kay?

Saturday: Will drive my oldest and a couple of other middle schoolers to the local Catholic high school for an academic competition involving (so near as I can tell) mostly written testing and which lasts over 4 hours. Will pack my Sudoku books and a handful of pencils and find a book to take along.

Creepy buffalo

2009-02-24T11:17:00.003-05:00

First draft of the flash fiction is done and resting quietly for a week or so before I give it another looking-over and decide if it's genius or garbage. I also got through a scene of Crowmaker this morning, following the weekly grocery shopping.

Much of the rest of today will be taken up by non-writing but still important activities, but then tomorrow should be free and clear to write to my little heart's content.

Warm yourself by the fire, son, and the morning will come soon

2009-02-22T12:30:00.014-05:00

I typed the above line into my Gtalk status message one day about a week and a half ago. It's from one of Joe's favorite songs, "Prayer of the Refugee," by his favorite band, Rise Against. It's a catchy enough tune that I have it on my mp3 player, and it happened to come on just when I happened to be casting about for something for my status message. And then the line got stuck in my head--not the song message as a whole, just that one line. And then later, another line got stuck in my head--again, not with the in-context meaning attached, just the line itself: "We've been pulling out the nails that hold up everything you've known." And then later, a line from the Foos' "Everlong" attached itself: "Come down and waste away with me, down with me." Add in a couple of creepy images of animals with human eyes, and you've got the seeds of the flash fic I've been growing for the last several days. I open it up every day, read through what I have, and wait to see what else wants to be added that day. So far I haven't forced anything, I've just waited for it to tell me what to write. It's kind of a creepy story, and maybe some of the eerie nature arises from the fact that I don't feel so much like I'm writing as like I'm just transcribing it.

Side note: The image of animals with human eyes came to me as I was putting away a CD that has a buffalo picture on it. After I made a note of the image, my mind meandered over and remembered how the new cow-people in the latest World of Warcraft expansion creeped me out, because the male faces look like flat buffalo masks instead of faces. I find it entirely possible that my subconscious saw the buffalo, made the connection without me knowing about it, and leaped to the image of animals with human eyes, and my conscious self didn't catch on until later. I also have a dim recollection of reading a very haunting short story several years ago in which buffalo figured prominently. I don't recall the plot of the story, but the image of creepy buffalo made me think of that, too.

I should probably go back and count how many times I used some variation of "creepy" in the last two paragraphs and use synonyms for some variety. But I'm lazy today, so I won't.

In other news, I waded through a really sloppy section of Crowmaker this week. Not a lot of tangible progress (I actually took away from the word count instead of adding to it), but the section actually makes sense now and leads where it should instead of wandering aimlessly here and there. It still needs some as-yet-unwritten scenes to fill in the gaps, but it's not bad.

The boys have been taking a Python programming class for the last month or so. Michael needed help figuring out how to do something, and I was clueless on how to help him. So I've been sitting down with the chapters they've studied and started learning it myself. Actually, not a bad idea anyhow. New knowledge is never a bad thing. And maybe I won't break out in hives whenever my computer genius buddies start spouting shop talk if I start to have a vague idea what they're talking about. (As if being haunted by creepy buffalo is somehow less scary than computer tech talk?)

I spotted Joe counting his allowance money on Friday. When I asked what he was saving for this time, I expected him to answer more Heroscape stuff or some new video game. His answer? "I've been thinking I'd like to learn to play guitar, too." (He's been busily teaching himself the drums and thinks he has a lead at school on where he can take lessons.) Michael Moneybags had also expressed an interest in guitar (I had it on a short list of ideas for a birthday gift), and I've thought it might be cool to try and learn, myself. (I play piano, too. Practice it every day. Yep. Uh huh.) So we agreed to go thirds on an acoustic guitar and some teaching software.

I shared the gorilla story from an earlier blog entry with the boys, and we had an impromptu discussion about where ideas come from. Joey's been writing out backstory and plot for his future video game ideas for years now, and apparently he's started stockpiling ideas for books, too. We are becoming quite the creative household these days.

Proud? You better believe it. It is cool beyond words to share living space with people who are actually interested in the same pursuits I am.

Wow moment for the day (week, month, year?)

2009-02-17T08:50:00.003-05:00

Under the category of things that make me feel less weird and alone and more like a perfectly sane person doing what I've been called to do:

Find 20 minutes when you can access Youtube. Then watch this. (Which I found via the awesome Shrinking Violets blog.)

No Man's Land

2009-02-16T12:48:00.004-05:00

The first act of Crowmaker is in the no man's land somewhere between really rough first draft and really finished final draft which I call, in very broad terms, second draft. This should not be misunderstood to mean that I wrote it and then revised it once, meaning this is the actual second draft. It just means it's not the first draft and it's not the last one.

A very vivid series of images spawned over the weekend that seem to be coalescing into a story. This one feels like a flash. I jotted down a few notes about it, but mostly I'm just letting it hang around until it's ready to present itself more clearly.

On slate for the rest of the week, writing-wise, is dragging out act 2 of Crowmaker and seeing if I can start piecing it together into something that makes sense. I think the main pieces are there. I just need to shake out the little stuff that doesn't belong and add some little stuff that does belong and wash the dirt off the big pieces that need to stay. Easy for me to say.

In the meantime, I spent the morning filling in at the school's extended care. My sinuses now feel burn-y and my throat feels itchy, and I really hope a full-blown cold is not en route.

Nobody here but us gorillas

2009-02-11T08:58:00.003-05:00

Today's entry over at Science Fiction & Fantasy Novelists says it all.

I have officially given up on making a plan regarding what story I will write when, since I just wind up spending time I could spend writing on arguing with myself over the virtues of this story vs. that one. That being said, I have the second draft of act 1 of Crowmaker almost complete. Probably not today after all, Grizz. I realized I still have two completely unwritten scenes to work through, still. But soon! And after that... Well, after that I'll take a stab at sorting out act 2 and see what happens. If anyone else would like a peek at act 1 after I get through this second draft, poke me.

Little pieces of the nothing that fall

2009-02-06T08:21:00.006-05:00

Last Friday was the middle school's annual "Punk 'n' Rock," which is a lip sync show in which the 7th and 8th graders get to dress up in goofy costumes and ham it up as they present a little skit based on the song. Joe was less than thrilled that he had to be in a Miley Cyrus song, but when he and all the boys in his class leaped out from behind assorted furniture in fly costumes and buzzed around every time she sang "fly on the wall," it was pretty amusing. AND, he got to be the drummer in Guns 'n' Roses for a few minutes, as they did "Sweet Child o' Mine." Air drumming, yes, but the teacher let him do the final drum roll for real, which thrilled him to no end. (Which reminds me, I need to write a thank you email to her.) He was also Richie in their take on the Happy Days theme song.

We should have a dvd of the entire performance in the near future. I am so looking forward to watching it again--especially the songs during which I was mostly watching through my camera's viewfinder and may have missed things.

After the show, a bunch of the kids went to the local Mexican restaurant for a celebration, and I could tell Joe wasn't sure about going alone, so I tagged along. He took off with his buddies, so I reintroduced myself to a parent I'd met once and wound up sitting with her and her husband and another parent I had never met before. I got through over an hour of small talk with complete strangers and even managed to enjoy myself. Go-go, introvert girl.

Joe's guitar-playing buddy came over on Saturday. He brought his guitar. And his amp. It was just a little amp, and they wound up playing Heroscape most of the time instead of making music. But I overheard them discussing how when they get to high school, they might have an easier time finding a bassist and singer, and how the high school they want to go to together has an open mic/battle of the bands deal sometimes. I have the feeling I may wind up with a band in my basement someday. I may admit to being secretly tickled about that prospect. At least for now, while the still mostly imaginary band makes very little noise and doesn't risk getting the cops called on us.

More snow this week gave us a two hour delay, and a dentist appointment gave us another one. And then the school called to see if I would help them by covering for an extended care teacher who was out. (They keep the preschoolers during the time of the day when they're not actually in preschool.) For five hours. So I took a deep breath and said yes, and it didn't go badly at all. Maybe they'll call me again. Maybe I'll say yes again.

Highlight of my tutoring career thus far came last night. We were reviewing fractions, and one of the boys said, "We did this in class today, and I don't get it." And I said, "Let's talk about it some more and see if we can help you get it." So we did. And he did. He sat back in his chair with this most awesome expression on his face and flung his arms wide and shouted, "OH. I get it now!"

Oh yeah. You better believe I'm hooked now.

And in the midst of it all, I still managed to thrash out some more word count for Loki. I got another rejection for "Wings" on Friday, pouted about it over the weekend, and then sucked it up and sent it out again on Tuesday. I also found a couple of potential markets for "Pale Roses" and the motivation to revise it. I got it down to 10,000 words yesterday and sent it off to the first market last night.

Snow, and other flurries

2009-01-29T14:08:00.005-05:00

This week's score thus far: one child home sick Monday, snow day Wednesday, two hour delay AND other child home sick Thursday. We should have our act together by tomorrow. Just in time for Friday!

Hubby decided it would be fun to use his snowblower on the back deck. He claimed it was for the sake of the poor dog, but it was really just because he has a toy he doesn't get to use often enough. I suggested it might actually be Not Such A Good Idea, because if the dog had all that nice cleared space to use, she might decide she wouldn't go all the way out into the yard. I was pooh-poohed. And then this morning I had to go scrape frozen poo off the back deck. No justice.

Week two of volunteer tutoring this week. It seems to be going reasonably well. There are a couple of kids I'm not sure are really getting the material we're covering, which makes me feel bad. I'd really have been more comfortable with actual one-to-one tutoring, but I'll try to do the best I can with the situation.

I started a new novel yesterday. It was not Crowmaker-related. After much thought and analysis, I reached the conclusion that what Crowmaker really needs is to be either a longer book or a trilogy. What I already have draft for is the very last part of the longer story. And I had more pre-planning done for the Loki story than I'd have had starting from scratch with the new Crowmaker material. So uh... That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. You know, as much as I stick to anything.

I will admit that some of my current dilemma with Crowmaker is fear. I'm afraid I'm not quite yet the writer I need to be to handle that story. Which is not quite the same as just saying "I stink" and giving up. It's more a temporary retreat. I'm still missing some as-yet-unknown tool in my toolbox which is necessary to the completion of that story. I think I have the tools to finish other stories while I'm learning and looking for that missing tool. Therefore, I will march on with those other stories while alternately searching for what's lacking and hoping like hell I'm lucky enough to find it.

Today's assortment of thoughts

2009-01-23T11:22:00.005-05:00

(Note: Entry edited a couple of hours later, when I realized I made a leap of transition and neglected to actually, you know, write it down.)

I'm still feeling more upbeat. Thank you to everyone who made me smile or offered me a hug or prodded encouragingly. I love you guys.

The science fair is over for this year. (Next year, both boys will be doing projects.) Joey brought home a third place ribbon for his class. I am tickled, and I think he is, too--although he is, as we all know, thirteen and too cool to do anything silly like jump up and down or crack a smile. Congrats to my eldest son on a job well done.

In today's Murderati entry guest blogger Tim Hallinan discusses what not to do when you get stuck on a story. (Even though I don't write mysteries or thrillers, the folks over there have a habit of offering sound writing advice and thought-provoking entries.)

The Second Thing Not to Do (for me, anyway) is to launch a new plot strand. Suddenly discovering a deeply moving, compelling parallel story that demands to be told is often an advanced form of the same kind of dithering that produces all those adjectives and all that dismally witty conversation. This is dangerous territory, though, because sometimes a new plot strand is exactly what you need.

This sounds semi-familiar. It's pretty much what my efforts to "fill out" my first draft of Crowmaker garnered me. To go with the new, possibly better direction, or to force myself to stick the straight and narrow path? Hmmmmmmmm...

The Third Thing Not to Do is to walk away. Give myself a break. Learn to whittle. Decide I need a few days off.

I don't necessarily agree with this. Sometimes I think the days off are what I need to restore the objectivity necessary to decide if the tangent is really a good idea or just a tangent. Although I do agree that you have to be careful that the couple of days don't turn into a month or a year. And that sometimes you really don't need the days off, you just need to suck it up and get back in there. One of my writer/first reader/sweet/funny/awesome friends put it much more succinctly for me yesterday, in a manner which involved a directive in all caps and ended with the phrase "GO GO GO!"

OK, yes. You're right, Bada. The Loki story can wait. (It objected strenuously: "But you just found that COOL BOOK on Norse legends, and the library might not have it again if you wait until later!!!" So I ordered a copy of the book for myself with my Christmas Amazon gift certificate, at which point Loki sighed and shrugged and said, "OK, kid. Fair enough," and went back to sleep for now.) I do think the time away from Crowmaker helped me see it more objectively, I do think I need to pursue the tangent which is not really a tangent, and I do think I still have an immense amount of work left on the story. But it's back at the top of my to do list.

I collected a rejection on "Wings" from Clarkesworld Magazine. The form rejection letter was worded in a polite and kind manner, and they got back to me very promptly. (Three days!) In keeping with the "GO GO GO" directive, I have regrouped and sent the story along to the next market on my list of potentials. Rejections are, after all, nothing personal, and they are good because they are an indication that I am working. Right?

Right!