Mystery of Writing

Well, this will be the last post tagged “NaBloPoMo” for a while—seeing as how I can haz fail at National Blog Posting Month. “Missed it by that much,” in the words of Agent 86. I set an alarm and everything—but at seven minutes past midnight the other night, I looked at the clock and went ungh.

Well, “dat smells stinkowiff” as Jar-Jar Binks would say. After my initial galling distaste for failure, I told myself, “I have a good excuse—I was so intent on working on the novel that I lost track of the time.” That’s a good-looking excuse. But the truth is, I heard the alarm. I could have just come and posted anything…even, “Can’t post now, too busy writing.” But I didn’t want to at the moment. My excuse for that? I want to post quality content to my blog every time, not filler. That’s a pretty excuse, too.

But I’ve been thinking about it.

What’s at the heart of the matter?

The real truth is, if I’d wanted it badly enough, I would have succeeded. I would have fit it in, and created a brief, quality post. But I didn’t; because posting every day for a month was never my intention.

I went into NaBloPoMo with one goal in mind: “I want to use this as a way to get back in the habit of blogging regularly.”

Wow. I made my goal.

The subconscious is spookier than any ghost story. I’ve read that it’s “power without direction.” It carries out what we ask of it—whether we want it to or not. My inner drive heard, “Blog regularly,” and that’s what I got.

That makes me take a look at what else is important to me. Do I have a definite goal written out, so that my powerful subconscious knows what to do? Do I have a definite completion date written so my inner drive knows when it needs to wrap things up?

If I don’t, you had better believe I’m going to do that now.

Because VICTORY tastes a heck of a lot better than FAIL.

~~~

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Tagged again! I’m running out of random facts, so I’ve decided to take inspiration from the ones who tag me, and put my own twist on this meme.

Leola expresses family love, true friendship, and reverence for nature on her beautiful blog. Her paintings are exquisite, often glowing against a dark background. Haunting aurorae; delicate flowers; powerful lightning; enchanted characters. Leola’s creations are most often tiny—she is an accomplished miniaturist. To see such beauty in so small a thing teaches me to appreciate the details in life.

Love of others; love of creation. What are six beautiful things that I am thankful for in life?

1: Loyalty — in family, friends, or pets. They love me when I’m least lovable, because they believe I can do better.

2: Faithfulness. Those who simply believe in God, goodness, and possibilities.

3: Miracles. Birth, rebirth—whether as a sunrise or a human life.

4: Plants. The vitality of growing things.

5: Sky — and everything in it and beyond it. Hardly gets more awesome than that.

6: Love.

And you? What are six details you appreciate in your life?

~~~

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I’ve been tagged again! And this time by my good friend Tessa, who is a phenomenal artist and wonderful writer. Her work evokes a feeling of magic and possibilities. Through words and a paintbrush, Tessa encourages the world to LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST, laughing and dancing along the way. I invite you to visit her blog, An Aerial Armadillo.

The nature of the meme is to find seven more random facts about me. Trouble is, I have a tendency to think that I ran out of interesting facts five memes ago. But that’s surely not true—if I’ve learned anything from Tessa, it’s that there is an endless supply of magic in Life.

And so I was inspired to tweak this meme a little bit. In honor of Tessa’s example to embrace life, I will share seven fun, quirky, or unusual facts about me!

Here goes:

1: I used to be pretty good at twirling a baton.

2: “Vesti La Giubba” makes me cry. Every time.

3: I can read a little bit of Welsh.

4: I love to organize things. I tend to let my desk get messy just so I can organize it.

5: I like cocoa made with water instead of milk.

6: The dictionary is one of my favorite things to read. (I should add that to my Goodreads.com bookshelf…)

7: Topaz is my birthstone, but blue is my favorite color. So I wear blue topaz.

And there we have it! And now, I tag….

YOU! What’s fun, quirky, or unusual about you? Leave a few facts in the comments here, or link to your blog if you do the whole 7!

Need inspiration? Check out Tessa’s blog. And embrace the magic inside you!

~~~

Read more about the journey to publishing The Rosewood House, and subscribe to this blog to receive the latest updates and fiction!

Writing can be a blast. Usually, I write in bursts, as the ideas come to me; so I skip among chapters, riding a wave of enthusiasm, risking a wipeout when the inspiration curls and crashes. It’s a thrilling ride.

It makes for rough, but emotionally engaged, text. Because of the “rough” part, it needs editing. Yet every time I sit down to the task, I’m nervous—taking such a cerebral approach to an artistic endeavor is bound to cut away some of the initial excitement, right? Those spur-of-the-moment passages lose their potency as they’re filtered again and again through my left brain.

That’s how I feel. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Sometimes, editing can be cool.

That is so awesome I can’t even tell you. And before someone worked their editing magic, it did not exist.

I am…so inspired.

And I’m off to make some waves.

~~~

Read more about the journey to publishing The Rosewood House, and subscribe to this blog to receive the latest updates and fiction!

A Twitter friend sent me a message out of the blue this evening:

I thought that was such a thoughtful thing to do. I’m notorious for forgetting to blog before midnight—and if I forget, I fail at National Blog Posting Month. But thanks to @hotdogg, that day will not be today.

His tweet gave me an idea to write about, as well—all the encouraging messages I’ve received from others during this novel journey. When this book hits the shelves, Stacy and I will not have accomplished the feat alone.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.
~John Donne

The encouragement of others keeps us going. At three AM, when I’m frustrated over a plot hole, it keeps me going. This collection of encouraging messages from my Twitter stream only covers tweets back a couple weeks, since Twitter doesn’t let me go back farther. And it’s not all the messages—I just posted one per person, but my friends encourage me every day. This doesn’t count tweets from Twitterers with private profiles; or direct messages. It doesn’t cover emails, instant message chats, text messages, phone calls, in-person conversations, or prayers from many others.

But it’s still an amazing sight to see.

Whenever I’m writing and rambling about my challenges of the day, Twitter is always there to help. For example, a scene filled with glances drove me crazy. I considered not letting anyone look at anyone else in the novel. Twitter to the rescue!

Then there was the incident when I lost a scene…then found it again:

Then the reminders that I need:

(Nope…it wasn’t. Changed! )

Even Max Lucado—one of my writing heroes—has encouraged me:

When I read these, and think of how many people are cheering for me…it blows my mind.

I am humbled. And grateful.

Thank you.

~~~

Read more about the journey to publishing The Rosewood House, and subscribe to this blog to receive the latest updates and fiction!

I rewrote the home page of this blog today. Does that count for National Blog Posting Month? No? drat.

~~~

Okay, interesting blog post. I’m going to tell you something about today’s editing experience, but you must forget it once you reach the bottom of the page. Like, wipe it from your brain. ‘K? Here we go:

This evening I’m writing a tender love scene—but I can’t do it from third person limited. That’s like…oxymoronic.

Third person limited gives me the phenomenal cosmic power of being inside a person’s head, thinking their thoughts, feeling their feelings. And, through my experience, the reader feels emotional closeness to the character. TPL is like pulling the camera in for an extreme close-up.

However. I made the decision to only use TPL on a select few characters, specifically to create just enough emotional distance from the rest that the reader never quite knows who they can trust. They may like a character, but don’t really know them. I know, that sounds counterproductive, right?

“I want to push my reader away so they feel emotionally distant from my characters! Woohoo!”

(I also wrote the early chapters with the intent of lulling the reader into a soporific state, but that’s a tale for another day.)

But emotional distance in a love scene?

Yet, when you think about it, movies do that all the time. With the exception of Lady In the Lake, I know of absolutely no movie that takes a third person limited perspective. It’s us, watching them, in every movie. Yet movie love scenes carry emotional impact.

True, movies have a soundtrack. But for me, my pacing is my soundtrack. Movies have visuals (hubba hubba). Well, I have adjectives. And verbs. (Hubba hubba, indeed.) I can do this.

It’s just harder.

But, y’know. Nobody told me that.

So, back I go to the chapter. And now you can forget everything I just told you about writing style and chapter goals, so that you’re able to read the story from a completely unfettered perspective. Right? Done? Good.

~~~

…as I was saying, I think I’ll take the rewritten home page for my NaBLoPoMo post of the day. Close enough.

Bye.

~~~

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You know, I have a lot of things keeping me busy these days. It’s easy to get overwhelmed a bit. Plus I have my damaged memory, which is always good for a moment of blissful ignorance (or three). So, usually, I use whatever I can to remind me of things that I need to do. I write tasks down; I have Google Calendar email me notifications; and then—my favorite—I set an alarm on my cell phone.

I’ve had one set for 10:30 pm lately, to make sure I don’t forget to post a blog every day. It’s National Blog Posting Month, after all–post one blog a day. I’ve made it halfway—I’d really hate to fail now.

But my memory is not to be trusted.

It’s been a full day, wrapped up by delving into the edits for Rosewood. I was off in another world. If a friend hadn’t called me and mentioned the word “blog,” I would have blown right past midnight without realizing it—I reset my phone alarm last night, so it wouldn’t go off during a movie. So instead of an alarm, I got a ring. Saved by the bell.

~~~

So. What’s new?

* I’m editing the final chapters of The Rosewood House, in which there is a way cool climax. I just summed up 4,000 words of backstory in four sentences. Ugh. But, on the plus side, this particular character is finally coming into his own. He’s had quite a tumultuous journey, which touched on both sides of the law. Which side did he finally wind up staying with? You’ll have to read it to see.

Someone suggested I release the backstory as a prequel. Hmm…maybe….

* My NaNoWriMo story, Aftermath, is on hold till later this month, since Rosewood gets precedence now. I’m not so sure I’ll still have 50,000 words as my goal for November—possibly 25,000. But, we will see.

And even though there’s more news, I will save it for another day. 11:49pm…time to post.

See you tomorrow.

~~~

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Today I watched Joe Versus the Volcano with my family. It’s my birthday; I got to pick the movie. I remembered liking this one years ago, and being inspired by it.

What I forgot was how powerful it is.

It’s the story of a man who is stuck in the drudgery of a dull, unpleasant life. He goes to a job he hates so he can make money, so he can afford a place to live and food to eat. So he can get up in the morning, and go to a job he hates, so he can make money, and so on and so forth. You get the idea. Chances are, you can relate.

Joe doesn’t have a profession or a work—he has a job. He also has a slew of health problems, brought on by the general unpleasantness of his life. So he goes to the doctor. And the doctor gives him some stunning news.

Joe has six months to live.

And therein begins a story of legendary proportions.

“You have some time left. You have some life left. My advice to you is: Live it well.”

I listened to that advice, and it suddenly struck me—today is my birthday, the first day of the rest of my life. I have some time left. I can spend it in paperwork, drudgery, worrying about finances, going here and there to do this and that…so I can go to sleep and wake up and do it all over again.

Or I can take my life in hand and live it well.

Where do I want to be? What do I want to do? Who do I want to be doing it with? If I know the answer to those things, why the heck am I not doing them yet? What in this life could possibly be more important than breathing the moonlight, drinking the presence of a loved one, painting my talents on the canvas of the world?

What’s the point of being alive if you don’t truly live?

My father says that almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know. Everybody you see. Everybody you talk to. He says that only a few people are awake…and they live in a state of constant, total amazement.

Joe Versus the Volcano is funny and campy and entertaining. It’s easy to take it as such and not recognize it for what it really is:

One of the most significant movies of all time.

If you haven’t seen it, you must see it. If you’ve seen it, watch it again. Better yet, watch it every year on your birthday.

And then go out and live.

What are you waiting for?

~~~

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The Rosewood House is in possession of its requisite Public Service Announcement, as I like to call it. The message?

Be aware of the danger of carbon monoxide poisoning, and take precautions. Don’t let the Silent Killer haunt you or the ones you love.

Although poison was the sole reason this book was written, it has only a cameo role in the tale. It’s there because I can’t, in good conscience, occupy a public forum without adding a message to raise awareness. Countless people live unaware that they are being steadily poisoned by levels that may be considered non-lethal—but will damage them forever.

This is Carbon Monoxide Awareness Week. Have you had your home tested for safety yet? Do you have a detector installed? Now is the ideal time to do it; with cold weather already here and the holiday season around the corner, heating and cooking appliances may increase an already present danger.

Please read a previous blog post of mine on the subject; and check out this excellent website for information. And forgive me if my wording is a bit blunt in this post.

The Silent Killer is scary business.

~~~

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Last night, for the first time, I understood why writers often work with editors. Merriam-Webster defines “edit” as:

1 a: to prepare (as literary material) for publication or public presentation b: to assemble (as a moving picture or tape recording) by cutting and rearranging c: to alter, adapt, or refine especially to bring about conformity to a standard or to suit a particular purpose.

Cutting.

Rearranging.

Alter, adapt, refine…to bring about conformity.

Them’s fightin’ words.

I’ve always been particularly independent about my vision; I felt that if someone else participated in the writing process, it wouldn’t be my vision anymore. Good, bad, or indifferent, I wanted the work to be mine.

Then something unusual happened yesterday. In a fit of desperation, I made the decision to cut a complete chapter from The Rosewood House. It was an early chapter, and I felt that it didn’t have enough tension or suspense to keep the reader’s interest. I liked it a lot—I figured I’d chop it up and sprinkle the pieces elsewhere throughout the book. (Ouch.) But I didn’t have confidence in it as a chapter in its own right. So I went through the fits of renumbering all my chapters, and moved on.

I gave the news to my collaborator, Stacy. Her response? She was shocked. And a bit miffed at me.

“I thought that was one of the best chapters. I really liked it.”

“You didn’t think it was too lighthearted?”

“We were laughing through the whole thing. Besides, they’re at a family reunion in the beginning—it’s supposed to be lighthearted.”

“Uh—so—should I cut it?”

“No.”

I looked at her, and for the first time realized that I was accountable to her. She’s my kid sis. And writing is my forte. However, she is a voracious reader, a good writer (even if she would rather master a spinning heel kick than a simile), and she knows story. She suddenly stepped into the role of editor. Not to cut something out—to make me keep it in. To believe in my writing when I’m too emotionally wrapped up in the work to see it for what it is.

So I have a new viewpoint about editors. And a new respect for my sis.

(Oh yes—and the chapter’s back in the book.)

~~~

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