In a mood to malinger

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.

Re-entering life

I wasn't going to blog first thing this morning, since I've had stories nudging at me for a couple of days now--they know it's time to get back to work, so I was going to dive right into them. I find, however, that the blog entries help me make concrete my vague ideas about what I've done, what I'm doing, and what I need to do. Which is sort of the reason I started the blog to begin with (in addition to that old writerly exhibitionist tendency).

For having been on vacation, I still managed to fit in a good deal of "work." I read a longish article/shortish book on writing scenes that I'd been meaning to read for a while. I read a YA novel (Tamora Pierce's Wild Magic) and was surprised to find that I liked it more than I'd expected to, even though it turned out to be more middle grade oriented than teen oriented. Which led me to thinking about YA novels in general, specifically in my previously unconscious attitude toward them. I never expect to like a YA novel, at least not at the same level that I like, say, a Robert McCammon or a Tad Williams--a book that I'm reading just for me, by an author I know I love. Which made me question why, then, I think I can write one. Which led me to dissect what I do like about the YA novels I've liked, as well as how well Crowmaker meets those criteria. So, not a bad exercise in familiarizing myself further with the market. I also managed to muddle through the copy of The Prince of Tides on the bookshelf at the villa where we stayed. They also had a copy of the movie, so I watched that. There were pieces of the story that really seemed to sparkle, but there were other places where it tasted kind of flat. But I learned things about writing from reading/watching it, hopefully, so I count that as more "work" effort.

Over the weekend, I did some internet research on Tamora Pierce and followed links around to research some of the other writers and books suggested in a discussion of good books with strong female protagonists for teen girls. I probably can't get around to reading all of them, but I should really get my hands on some of them. I have a reading list from the boys, too. Research! All of it counts as research!

On the actual writing front, "The Blue Wall" has developed an itch. I know it's not quite right as it is, and I have some vague ideas on how to scratch the itch. It's starting to feel less like a story for Cricket, though, and more like a story for Cicada. Which is perfectly fine, except that Cicada is currently closed to submissions. So I may wind up having to hold onto "The Blue Wall" until I find a more acceptable market for it. In browsing some articles related to the Carus Publishing family of magazines, I came across a recent interview with one of their editors in which she mentions wishing for more submissions for Spider. That's a younger age group than I've written for before, but I may have an idea that will work there. I'll spend some time, hopefully this afternoon, doing some doodling and idea charting and see what shakes out. "The Blue Wall" is on my list of stuff to doodle and idea chart with, too.

Crowmaker is still bubbling on the back burner. I have moments of revelation now and then, so I jot down a note or, as was the case this morning, write a quickie couple of paragraphs into the ms for a partial scene--this morning I had the first post-climax scene occur to me, so that's a good sign, I think. Some of the plot that I trashed along the way still tickles at me now and then, but the possibility that those pieces belong in a potential sequel also tickles. Whether that's a real possible sequel or just my subconscious trying to convince me we don't really need to do the work of adding plot back to the story right now, I can't tell yet. For the moment, I'm just taking notes for maybe next week or so, when I sit down for a more serious look at the story's status.

In the meantime, Joey's fever is back, and we're off to the doctor. And then there will be makeup homework for both boys, from the vacation days missed. And a few odds and ends of errands that I need to get caught up on.

Transition

Yes, the boys started back to school today. Yes, I had my traditional little sniffle in the empty van on the way home. But they had a good day, and I had a good day, so all is well.

Those following along at home will already have noticed that I haven't entered any new word count in my progress meter over there since uh... Wednesday last week? This is OK, really. The story's been hauling along like gangbusters, especially for my two primary characters. Then I hit a point just before the plot twist at the fulcrum of the story where the secondary characters need to become more active in things, and when I prodded them into taking the stage, they were all wooden and just mouthing the words and not really, you know, alive. You may recall I had this issue while writing the Q3 story, and I also ran into it in "Wings." Short stories, it's pretty easy to go back and discover/rediscover the characters you lost track of. Partially-completed novel of over 60,000 words, not such a fast process. So I'm in the process of tracking back through the draft and finding where these people got abandoned and rescuing them. This will involve new word count eventually, but I still have the dogs out locating them.

And I still really like this story. I'm looking forward to getting to know those lost characters better, and I'm looking forward to finding out exactly what happens in the upcoming twist and beyond. I may have finally stumbled onto the writing process that works for me--so far, so good. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

In other news, beautiful, almost fall-like day here today, so I got in my first peaceful morning walk of the school year. I hit a new low point with the weight last week, after a long month or so of trying to drag myself off a plateau. I hadn't been walking, with the sore leg and all, so hopefully being able to get out and around more will help that, too.

Be a good one

The Muse and I are on speaking terms again, the Lesser Demon of Overanalysis has been put back in his cage until such time as his critical eye is actually useful, and I've managed to almost fill my daily word count quota. There is also office furniture enroute, so I can soon look at my notes while I type, without having to keep one hand on the precariously-balanced notebook in my lap. These are good things.

I have determined that, desk or not, I may need to rethink my habit of squeezing two, sometimes even four, pages onto a single piece of paper when I print out notes and drafts. The idea is to save paper, but two pages/sheet makes me squint and four pages/sheet requires me to put my nose on the paper and peer under my glasses to make it out. And even then, it's more like "those shapes on the page are vaguely familiar and remind me of what I think I wrote there" than "I can actually read those words." So uh... Yeah. The up side is, I have tons of papers and flyers from the boys' school with nice blank space on the reverse side--a full copy paper box full, at present, with more flowing in come the start of school in two weeks. I can still conserve paper and recycle! Even as I go blind.

Two weeks until school starts. What the hell happened to our summer?

The week in review

Lost another 1.5 pounds this week, bringing me to a grand total of 10 lost since that fateful day in mid-March when I stared at the scales in the doctor's office and decided enough was enough. My goal has been a pound a week, so I'm right on target. The secret so far seems to be lots of veggies, daily walks, and a daily allowance of chocolate to waylay any binging tendencies. I'm sure the increase in my thyroid medication has probably had its effect, too, as well as the change for the better in the weather. I seem to have finally shaken the winter blues, thank God. Yeah, I know, the depressive tendencies always come back sooner or later. Damned if I won't enjoy the days they take a vacation, though.

The boys had their next-to-last week of school for this school year. The homework load has yet to let up much, but when I compare the way they handle it now as compared to the beginning of the school year, I'm pretty pleased. Michael especially has come a long way this year--it no longer takes him two hours to do his 45 minutes worth of homework.

I spent most of last weekend hemming and hawing about what direction to go with my writing--stick to my original goal of grinding out a story to enter in the WotF contest each quarter or sidetrack to follow where "Sacrifice" was taking me? "Sacrifice" has obstinately grown far beyond its original boundaries and will never be short enough to qualify for the contest, and in my heart I want to see where it will go with no artificial limits placed on it--so sticking to my original goal means coming up with a different story for the contest, with only a month and a half until the deadline. I'd spent the week before last trying to build a new story, but it just wasn't reaching out and grabbing me. Oh, woe is me, what to do, what to do?

So, last Sunday morning, while the kids were downstairs and the hubby was at work, I popped in a random CD, which turned out to be Pat Benatar's "Go," while I emptied the dishwasher and fiddled with other domestic duties. I caught myself staring out the back window at the swing set while "I Won't" ("I'd rather die than love you...") blared at me from the window sill.

Bam. Story idea. I fought it at first, because it seemed kind of trite and unoriginal, but I dutifully opened a new file and jotted down the scene snippets that had come to me. It felt good--it had that little hum of potential emotional power--but intellectually I still had my doubts. By Monday morning, I had some new insights on how to deal with my doubts. By Friday, I had over 2,500 words of a rough draft that seems reasonably good and notes on what I should do in a second draft to shore up the weak points.

In short, it was a pretty good week. Here's hoping next week follows suit.