Delayed reaction

Jenny tagged me, a while back. (Sorry)

The rules:
a. Link to the person who tagged you.
b. Post the rules on your blog.
c. Write six random things about yourself.
d. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
e. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment at their blog.
f. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

Okey-dokey.
1. While I was growing up, I had a pony named Peggy and then a horse named Mikie. I didn't name either one.
2. I studied sciences and then history at university, but left before I got my degree in order to work full time at the business I had started with my then-boyfriend (husband now.) Still doing it, 14 years later.
3. I hate pea soup, love cheese.
4. I like to travel, but I think I'll always live in Nova Scotia.
5. I'm the oldest of four children - we're spaced over 21 years.
6. I've just realized how dull I really am.

And sorry, but it looks like everyone I know has already done this!

on a sunny April morning

Wonderful co-worker leaves on Friday. I have today and one more day off, and you betcha I'm making the most of it.

I've spent the whole month of April focusing on my family, soaking up as much of the kids as I can. I know, it's not like I'm sailing away for three months at sea, I'll be home every night at six-thirty to play and read and tickle, and mid-afternoon on Saturdays to hang out in the backyard and push the swing. Still, I feel like there's a separation coming, and it's bringing a lot of little things into focus and stirring up complex emotions that I want to express, but can't. Sometimes there just isn't language to cover this motherhood thing.

I've written very little, but I feel the story happening. I hear my characters laughing softly under blankets, and I'm puzzled because they certainly weren't sleeping together the last time I checked in with them. Carrie seems stronger now, maybe she's putting her losses aside - if not behind her - at least not cradling them in her arms any more. She's finding peace, and soon I will sit down with her and she'll tell me all about it. She knows I need this time, and she'll wait.

Tonight for supper we're having Sesame Ginger pork on the grill.

How to have a good day

1. Subjugate your will to that of the nearest two-year-old. Sip imaginary tea from a cracked plastic cup that used to be yours back in the seventies. Read a board book three times over. Lay on the floor in a patch of sunlight with an orange cat, and listen to your daughter sing the alphabet, starting with the first letter, which is Q.

2. Dig something up - for instance, the tall yellow-flowered perrenial (latin name tall yellowus thingus) that, through lack of planning, got planted between the other two tall yellowus thinguses. Use your bare hands to fill in the hole, and don't forget to consult with your six-year-old about the best destination. He's right.

3. Be with your son in the moment when he loses his first tooth. If you're lucky, you'll get to pluck it out yourself, with no pain and very little blood. Cry a little if you need to, he is growing up so fast.

4. Take time to appreciate your daughter's imagination. Who else would think to paint a bedspread using a toothbrush and Vaseline?

5. Shut up. Stop trying to control everything. Leave the muddy footprint where it landed and pour yourself a glass of wine to sip while you cook supper.

6. Cuddle in the dark and watch a movie with your husband.

7. Don't worry that you only wrote a few hundred words. You did some very important stuff today, after all.

Huge Sigh

I've had some hard news this week - my wonderful co-worker is moving on the first of May. I'm really sad to see her go, we share the same irreverent sense of humour and she's good at the job. I'm also pretty sad about going back to a six-days-a week work schedule.

I'm not excited about hiring. I'm so tired of that process.

Anyway, I have April. I'm going to take some extra days off to be with the kids, and when that's over I'll do what I have to do. I have lots of support, it's not the end of the world.

It might be the end of my getting 10 000 words a month, though. For now.

So I'm a little bummed right now.

It's one of those days.

My bottom is on the bed. My computer is in front of me, and the cursor is waiting, blinking politely. Patiently. The door is closed, the Beloved all downstairs on more-or-less good behaviour. (There's no blood, anyway. And DH is there.)

It's just, my coffee cup is empty. I'm sure that's the reason I'm having a hard time getting started today. Once my coffee cup is refilled, I'll be brilliant, I just know it. If I leave the room, though, someone might see me and then I might not get back in here by myself. It's a lot harder to write with a two-year old jumping up and down next to your laptop.

So, it's another case of AITC, these things do seem to spread. I had it on Friday as well, and wrote only 142 words. Today I am planning to move even a little further past my goal, and I will. I just need more coffee.

Then, I'll be brilliant. (G)

Random notes

Finished watching Beowulf and Grendel last night, with Gerard Butler and Sarah Polley. Now, I'm never one to jump into discussions about what character looks like which actor, because every reader has his/her own private image of a character, and it's more or less immaterial to everyone else. I've gotta say, though, yummy Gerard in this film* is what my personal Jamie looks like. Minus the red hair, of course.

* I saw him in 300 as well, and he wasn't quite the same at all. Which is good, really, as he was playing a completely different guy. (G)

I've been looking at my word meter. I love the way it grows as I move along through my story, but every now and again it occurs to me that 80K is really an arbitrary number. When I think about the parts of the story I've developed and the things that seem to be growing out of it: the themes that crop up and need to be explored, and the thoughts I have that I really just want to express through my story and my characters, I'm thinking the actual number might be closer to 100K. Which really doesn't matter, I'm not going to eliminate anything in order to write a shorter story or be done sooner! It's just that I do love seeing that little red line up over the 50% point.

This afternoon I'm going to try a recipe I've found for a chocolate cookie with toffee bits and chocolate chips. Or maybe I'll go for the one with white chocolate chunks and cherries - you see my dilemma. Hmmm.

Oh, and I plan to write today too, so I'd best run along!

Halfway there...

My birthday was the other day, I'm 35 now. Yep. True story.

26 was hard, so was 30. I used to think 35 would be rough too, but it really wasn't. I think it's because I'm in such a good spot right now, with my two wonderful kids and my incredible husband, my work and my writing and the rest of my family. It's all right if I'm getting older, because I've accomplished this much so far, and I'm working on the rest.

Speaking of which, I crossed over 50%!!! That gives me a week to write 2500 words, and that shouldn't be any problem. I'm home for the next three days, after all.

Happy Easter!

The Big Reveal

Today I'm working on a scene that's going to create a turning point for Carrie, my MC. It came as a bit of a surprise to me too, actually. I didn't know how I was going to manage handing over this Missing Piece of Information, but I was driving somewhere the other day and realized that there *is* an existing person-in-the-know -overlooked because he was only an infant at the time. So I'll send Carrie off to find him, but today I'm skipping ahead to their conversation, because that's what I see right now.

It's cool how these things show up, isn't it? I don't think it'll ever get old for me. But then, I spent five years working on a novel in which this *didn't* happen - or at least not when I reallyreally needed it. It was a lovely story, but I'm afraid I'm the only person who will ever know that. Unless...

Not now. Maybe later.

It's very windy today. I can see the whitecaps on the ocean, even though we're miles away.

Now we're getting somewhere

Well, aren't we the regular blogista this week?

I'm finding that the more I let go of my control issues - nattering questions like: What is the purpose of this scene? Where, exactly, in the book does this scene belong? Shouldn't you be developing X or Y? - the happier I am, and the more the words flow. This is a hard lesson for me, because I'm having to un-learn some fundamental habits in order to stop getting in my own way. The biggest one is efficiency.

In my daily life I'm all about making the most of my time. It's a skill I've worked hard to learn. I have many hats to wear - business owner and manager, wife, mother - and in all these areas I've learned to organize, so that I don't have to do things twice, so I don't waste my time. And so when I put on my "writer" hat, I do wear it with some awareness of the passing of time and the other things I meant to accomplish today, and so it's hard not to ask myself the questions I've listed above.

Moving the computer into the bedroom when I'm writing has been a huge improvement, (how many times have I thanked you for that little pearl, Lindsay?) because it signifies to me on some subconscious level that I Am Writing Now. I'm learning to sip something hot from my favourite mug, take a deep breath...and RELAX. In that frame of mind it becomes much easier to merely listen and type, and lo! Suddenly a thousand words a day is no major thang. Suddenly it becomes possible that I might finish telling this story before I get bored of it. Suddenly I am less bored of it anyway, because things are going off in their own directions, instead of being crammed into my carefully crafted notion of the story.

Funny, I have to stop trying to get somewhere, in order to get somewhere.

Sunday

Only just got the baby to bed, she totally doesn't give a rat's ass that the time changed. And I'm going to have to stop calling her "the baby" too, she's nearly two. Ha. Nevah! She'll always be "the baby" around here. (crossing self, and saying a few fervent prayers)

Logged just over a thousand words today, in between making ginger cookies and pizza with the Beloved, playing with plastic food and just...loving Sunday. I've left my thumb drive at work again. That's not a bad thing, it stops me rereading and editing! Anyway, I've deleted some scenes too, and that cost me some wordage, so I'm not anxious to do the final tally anyway.

I'm home tomorrow, and hoping for at least another thousand words.

Word meter

My zotukou word meter quit moving a while ago, and I finally got around to finding another one, and this one works. It's very familiar, wouldn't you say?

The clocks went ahead last night, which is hard on a person.(yawn) Now it's Sunday morning, and I'm trying to write with both my children here on the big bed with me, which is not going very well. I'll evict them shortly. Pebbles is jumping and BamBam is - well, he's a six-year-old boy. It doesn't matter what he's up to, it'll be loud and it'll be something he's not supposed to do.

Today I'm driving with my MC, Carrie, to a tiny house by the sea, to meet a medium named Liz.

And it gets even better

...and then I got a surprise invite to Cora's for lunch with my mom and sister! And I ate this:




All right, I ate half of it. With a side of English custard.

Today is full of good things, I hope yours is good too!

Life is good

Gratitude is a powerful thing, and I try to remember my blessings all the time, but some days it comes easy. Like today.

Last night I got out of the shower to find my favourite pyjamas, folded dryer-warm, on the foot of our bed. They were placed there by my husband, who doesn't think that sort of gesture is anything special. I do.

This morning, the sun came out. We haven't seen it in a while. I danced to Why Georgia with Pebbles in the bedroom, and she laid her little head on my shoulder. Her hair is cinnamon, shot with sunshine.

BamBam wore a red striped shirt to school. I love him in red, I love him in stripes. My little man.

So, yeah, work can be a pain. But I have tomorrow off, and I'm writing.

The sun is shining, and I have it good.

I think I'm getting better at this

I made my goal of 8K for the month of February. Considering the month I just had, I'm very surprised by that. But yay, me! I think I'm learning to let go a bit.

So this month I'm raising my goal to 10K. That's just over 300 words a day, which sounds emminently do-able, does it not? (blink, blink) We'll see, yup. I've got my game on, now!

Congrats to Vicki on her one-year anniversary - SCENT OF SHADOWS came out one year ago! There's a give-away at Urban Fantasy Land, to celebrate.

Goal

I'm still a bit short of my goal for the end of the month, but I think I can pull it off. Some good advice from a friend - (get a quiet spot, dolt) - has been working out very well. I was writing at the kitchen table with my Beloved going about their business all around, and even though I thought I was fine, it was really interfering with my ability to really "get into" my character. So that's working much better now.

I'm also reading THE SPYMASTERS LADY, and lemme tell you, our Ms. Bourne has some chops. I'll be back to rave about that later.

In the meantime, eliminating distractions and making the most of my time remains key. I don't know what I'd do without my few buds though, this is indeed a lonely biz.

I have some funny stories I want to tell, but alas, the time...

Business as unusual

It's a full moon. Those of you who have worked in retail will understand what this means.

Take the man who called me the other day.

Him: "Yuh, hello? Zis the computer place?"
Me: "Yes, how may I help you?"
Him: "Yuh. I was just wondering, you know. My brother in law, he was goin' duck hunting. And he hadda get a gun permit AND a hunting license JUST to go duck hunting."
Me, reaching for the ibuprophen: "Right." And this has what exactly to do with me?
Him: "So, every time I turn on my TV I see people are using these computers to, like, steal money and mess up kids and stuff. I wanna know how comes you don't need a permit to have a computer."
Me: "Um. What?"
Him: "Well, yeah, like. So I called the RCMP, and they said call my MLA. And my MLA said why don't I call the computer people."
Me: "Wait, now. You resent that your brother in law needed a permit for his gun, but you think the 600 kids at my son's elementary school should require permits to have computers?"
Him: "Well, I don't see the difference. There should be a test you take to make sure you're a good person and stuff."
Me: (splutter)
Him: "See, you can use them both to hurt people."
Me: "I could use a hammer to hurt y...someone...but..."
Him: "Anyways, it's all just a money racket."
Me: "What?"
Him: "Yeah. I don't see why we can't just get rid of them."

It went on from there. I had actual brain damage. I think I still do.

mental space

Yes, I did it again. Three-four days went by and I did not write. Now I'm sitting here wearing a grimace and a dunce cap, trying to slip into character while the phone rings and customers come and go. What I really need is a door.

I've been thinking to myself about private mental spaces - retreats - that writers go to when they're working. I'm building mine now, maybe you can visit me when it's done. Jo has a nice spot (See December 1st, 2007 post). Where do you go to block out the world?

My poor little brain

I'm still wrestling with this, but it's not a grim, life-and-death battle, it's more like trying to get the top off the pickles.

Today I sat down and explained my whole story to my co-worker. This is a strategy I often use when I'm "stuck" - whether it be something to do with accounting, a personal dilemma, or my writing. "Come here and listen to me for a sec" is a request that my employees come to understand - they're really only required to pull up a chair and be a warm body with ears. Maybe nod occasionally. The act of explaining the problem to someone else often squeezes whatever synapse is clogged, and I am suddenly free again.

Anywho, this verbal synopsis did help to clear up some of my muddy-headedness in regard to the way I want to develop some of the suspense through the end of the first part of the story. Today I'll sketch out a few scenes to fill in that gap. Yay! It's working!

Writer, know thyself

I am now at the point where it all died the last time – the beginning of the middle. I know what went wrong with JUNIPER – the getting stuck, and the endless rewriting of the first third of the book - and I'm determined not to make the same mistake again. And yet, I feel the gears slowing.

What's happening? I'm losing track of my plot, and I'm feeling that impulse to go back over what I've written, to refresh my memory, to make sure it makes sense. Trouble is, I don't fool me. I know what's happening here. This is starting to look like a big job, and I'm getting intimidated. I want to reassure myself that I know what I'm doing, so I think it's a good idea to go back and look at what I've written. And I know exactly what I'll do, if I go there.

I'll fiddle. I'll pick. I'll rearrange. I'll stall. I'll do anything – except tuck in my chin, put my head down, and work through the doubts.

The first part of my story is like the shallow end of the pool, and I'll wallow there indefinitely if I give myself that chance.

So I've struck a compromise. I've got out the damned cue cards, yes I have. And I've written a brief description of each scene on one, right up to the place where Part Two definitely begins. Then I put a butterfly clip on that stack of cards, and set them aside. That process was my review, and that's all there's going to be for now. No setting them out of the floor and arranging them according to the tension requirements, no organizing them to best show the development of relationships. That's it, that's all. I've got blank cards now, and it's about brainstorming the new material from this point on.

And you know what? I think it's going to be ok.

Blowing chunks

I'm entering a new phase here - leaving the more-or-less linear pattern I was following, and reverting to my previous habit of floundering around in chunks of story which have no apparent destination in the actual book. I mean, of course they go somewhere. Hehe. I think.

Writing style - not voice, but strategy - is something that seems to happen TO me, rather than being a tool I use to get the job done. Sometimes I feel like I'm just here for the ride, just listening, just getting it onto the paper. This week has been like that. And since the characters are fighting for air-time, I'll take it! The trick will be to take control again when they stop. One ought not to be a victim of the craft, after all.

So for now I'll take it on faith that all shall be revealed to me in good time, and happily fling nonsense on the page until then. At least it's fun.

My January goal was (cough) not met.
In February, I will aim at 8K again, and try to get to the keyboard every day, even if it's only to write fifteen lousy words.