Kate George: notes from the madhouse

Marly?

2011-04-08T11:49:00.000-04:00

This is an odd way to communicate with someone. But as it may have worked before I'm trying it again.

Marly if you get this would you drop me a line at Kate AT kategeorge DOT com?

Thanks

Book Reader's Heaven: Review: Bree MacGowan is Fantastic Fun!

2011-03-24T11:23:00.000-04:00

Book Reader's Heaven: Review: Bree MacGowan is Fantastic Fun!

A great review for California Schemin! Thanks so much.

Where's Marly and R?

2011-03-18T16:46:00.000-04:00

Marly and R I don't know if you still get updates from this blog, or if you ever transferred over to my new spot. But there area a bunch of people and Jenny's and Lani's blog that are worried about you and would love it if you'd check in. I for one miss you guys.

Anne K. Albert: INTERVIEW WITH KATE GEORGE

2011-03-07T11:11:00.000-05:00

Anne K. Albert: INTERVIEW WITH KATE GEORGE

Come and join us!

Moving the Blog

2010-09-03T12:10:00.000-04:00

Well folks the time has come. I'm moving the blog over to my regular website. In the end it makes more sense to have most everything in one place and not maintain the blog separately.

Pop over to the new place. I'm planning on pontificating about Drew Barrymore, writing and the vicissitudes of life over there now!

Hope to see you there.

Kate

Autumn, Again

2010-09-01T09:49:00.003-04:00

Ignoring the fact that it is going to be 90 degrees today, Autumn is on it's way. I know this because it has been lovely and cool for the past couple of weeks and the trees are starting to change. It's small. A few leaves here and there. A patch of red or gold in the middle of a sea of green. But it's there.

I could probably recycle last year's post about Autumn, I'm sure I'm repeating myself. It's because I love this time of year. The air feels good to me. My body tends to run on the hot side, so summer is uncomfortable for me. I don't really like sub zero temps much, so winter isn't the best. Although I do love it when it begins to snow.

Spring is great, signs of new life and a chance to start over on my flower garden. But fall requires very little effort on my part. The kids rake the leaves. If I feel like it, I pull stuff out of the garden and clean it up some. But I can also leave that to spring if I like. I really am a lazy creature.

I love the bug reduced fall. I won't call it bug free. Life in the country is never bug free. But the population of flying and biting critters drops off, the air is silky and cool, the sun shines and the trees put on a fabulous display.

What's not to like?

It's a Good Day

2010-08-30T09:34:00.016-04:00

I'm in an especially good mood today. I was kind of wondering what that was about and then I remembered - Moonlighting in Vermont got a really good review last night. There is something about the validation that comes with a good review that makes me giddy.

I'm sharing it with you so you can feel giddy too.

I'm just jumping in here to say this review is from Brenda Scott at the Manchester Examiner. Just the kind of detail you might like to know.

Moonlighting in Vermont is a superbly written, romantic mystery with just a hint of comedy, by Kate George. Winner of the Daphne du Maurier award for excellence in the Mystery/Suspense category, Kate George shows us what truly incredible writing can achieve. The storyline was so absorbing; it was hard to put this one down! Bella Bree MacGowan, paste-up artist by day, housekeeper by night, describes herself as a Rachel Ray look-a-like “without the benefit of a hair and makeup stylist.” George’s heroine is a fictional treasure that is strong-willed, self sufficient, and not easily derailed!

The backwoods town of South Royalston, Vermont is typically a quiet venue where not much happens; a place where the rich and famous have been known to frequent to get away from it all, certainly not a place for murder? When Bree is assigned to clean one of the cottages at Whispering Birches, a super-luxury hotel, she finds her boss dead on the floor. Bree quickly becomes the prime and only suspect as Detective Miles Brooks does everything in his power to point all clues toward Bree. In the weeks that follow the murder, Bree manages to lose her boyfriend and her daytime job at the Royalston Star. She becomes the subject of much gossip in town and is even accosted at Vera’s funeral! With nowhere else to turn, Bree scrambles to dig up clues, and carries out her own investigation in order to clear her name and avoid the fate that awaits her.

George’s characters are both interesting and compelling because each struggles with difficult conflict. Bree is conflicted by her feelings for Beau; on the one hand she is attracted to him but feels that if the relationship doesn’t work out, she risks losing her closest friends, Meg and Tom Maverick. Bree loves and needs her job at the paper but resigns anyway because she feels she’s putting the integrity of the paper and Tom’s job on the police force at risk. Meg grapples with her deep feelings for her husband and the attraction she feels for Scott. Even Jim Fisk, Bree’s ex-boyfriend who deserted her when she became the prime suspect in order to protect his career, has second thoughts and tries to win her back.

And then there’s detective Miles Brooks who continually treats Bree as if she were already guilty! Does he truly believe she’s a murderer or is his brooding, all-to-serious personality just an act to cover up his true feelings?

Very happy in Vermont.

Don't Postpone Joy

2010-08-27T09:00:00.002-04:00

I was at a high school graduation in June where one of the speakers was an ex-teacher from the school. He'd been battling brain cancer and was thankfully in remission. He wasn't going to be coming back to work at the school. He had other things he wanted to attend to.

One thing this teacher said during his speech was this: He had been in Florida, and while there he went to walk into a shop or restaurant only to discover it was closed. On the door was a hand lettered sign.

Don't Postpone Joy

Of course hearing a cancer survivor say those words was especially moving. Who better to remind us that we have limited time here on earth?

Don't Postpone Joy

I mention this because I've been postponing joy probably since I was in my late twenties. And lately it's worse because I'm working on the adage that Life Rewards Action. So I'm acting. I'm taking care of my kids and my day job and trying hard to become a novelist who can live off her writing. Not many writers can actually live off their work so that's a tall order. I think I can make it there, but I know for most writers it takes a while. I'm not worried about it. But while living by

Life Rewards Action

I've been postponing joy. I was pleased when my first novel was published, but did I really celebrate it in my heart? No, I was busy moving on to the next steps, marketing and writing the next novel. As I sit here I have four incredible children who should bring me great joy, but what am I focused on? the finances and how in the world am I going to get my name out there so people will buy my books.

That is so wrong. Don't postpone joy. See the beauty. Feel the miracles that surround you. Breathe.

Don't Postpone Joy

So Nobody's Interested in Book Reviews

2010-08-25T07:41:00.002-04:00

I can see that book reviews from a person with questionable taste in literature might be suspect. Especially as I basically just say I like this book in a general sort of way and don't go into specifics. So how about a movie review? Would you find that interesting?

I watched two movies worth reviewing this week. Memento and 500 Days of Summer. Two very different movies with one thing in common - a kind of quirky oddness. Of course both movies leave you completely different so don't read too much into the oddness, but it's there all the same.

For me, Memento is about how people will use other people's weaknesses to their own ends. Of course sometimes that backfires. But the blatant self interest is appalling and the manipulation of situations left me cold. This is not a feel good movie. It's supremely well acted, written and directed and definitely worth seeing, But if you are at all squeamish, don't watch it at night.

500 Days of Summer is not your typical love story. I place it with the more modern and alternative Juno and Nick and Nora's Infinite Play List. It's off balance in a fun sort of way. But the mood is not traditional, well heck the story is not traditional. It appears to be written for the disillusioned twenty-somethings. I watched with my sixteen-year-old daughter. She liked it. I liked it. So I guess it works as a chick flick. But honestly I think it would work for the guys too. It's not a shoot 'em, car wreck of a movie, but it's shot from the male point of view and plays to guys sensibilities. It's not easy on the girl, which honestly works in this movie.

So there you go - two short and probably unhelpful movie reviews, but maybe you like them more than the book reviews?

A Review of Sorts - Family Honor by Robert B. Parker

2010-08-23T08:05:00.001-04:00

I just finished Family Honor by Robert B. Parker, and I got to wondering what it is I like about his books. I like them well enough to read until I literally can't keep my eyes open anymore. I had to re-read the last few pages from last night because I couldn't remember any of it.

It's not just the female protagonist, I like Parker's Spenser almost as well as I like Sunny Randall. But it is part of it. I like that Sunny is independent. That she's not afraid to try things. She's not afraid of mistakes. She moves along, not knowing the answers, just doing what seems best and trying to figure things out. She takes risks.

Parker created Randall. I know this to be a fact. (Well I suppose it to be a fact. Semantics you know.) And yet, I feel as though she is real. It's as though I could know her, I wouldn't be surprised to meet her. I'd say "Oh sure, you're Sunny Randall. You took in that fifteen year old girl. How's that going?"

It takes a certain amount of skill to develop characters who seem real. Human beings are complex creatures. Motivations are rarely straight forward. It's hard to create characters that are complex and likable without bogging your story down with detail. The trick is to deliver a story that seems light, that doesn't drag, but still supports complexity of character and plot.

It's something to strive for.

Fickle Friday

2010-08-20T11:41:00.000-04:00

As you know I've been trying to figure out a cover for California Schemin'. And I have to count myself lucky that my editor let's me have input. So many authors are stuck with what they get when it comes to book covers.

Of course I got manic about it and went hog wild and mocked up a ton of covers. Which overwhelmed my poor editor and she had to tell me to quit it already. She's got work to do. So I'm quitting cover design for a while. And maybe something will come to me while I'm not concentrating on it. Or maybe something will come to you and you'll tell me about it and it will all be fixed.

I want the cover because I want to work on the book trailer. Making book trailers is fun. It takes me a long time, because I'm technology challenged. But it's a change of pace, and I'm nothing if not short of attention span. Giving my brain something different to work on is always a plus. And it furthers the career so I can't lose.

But I also can't finish the trailer with out a cover. And unfortunately I'm in love with the controversial skunk.

Oh and because it's fickle Friday here is a picture of the real Foresthill Bridge in California. It's something like the highest, or second highest bridge in the USA. Amazing huh?

Click here for the Foresthill Bridge

Can you stand to look at another cover?

2010-08-18T07:07:00.002-04:00

Because I had another idea. Just give me a yes or no on this. Or you could say you like this but there's a cover from the other post I like better, if you like.

So, I'm trying to learn what makes a good cover. And I think it needs to be clean and somehow related to the story, if at all possible. And eye catching across the room. But you know all these things.

My worry about the girl in the blue dress was that although Bree does a lot of running in this story, the cover might get dated rather quickly. My cousin commented on that to me. My brother agreed. And maybe it makes the book look more like a straight romance, which California Schemin' definitely is NOT. There is less romance than in Moonlighting in Vermont. I need a mystery cover for this book.

Then there is the bridge, which I like but many of you do not. Too boring without the dead woman. Too gruesome with the dead woman. Too much like Inspirational romance. Nothing against Inspirational Romance, but California Schemin' is not what an inspirational reader is looking for. Absolutely not.

A few people adored the green and blue cover but most of you hated it. So I was thinking about other images. I could have put Hammie on the cover, but the guy in my head (and collage) for Hammie is David Beckham. I doubt I'm going to get permission to use him on a cover. (Maybe I should ask?)

But an image I thought about early on, long before I started mocking up covers was of a skunk. There is a skunk. And they are cute creatures, if very smelly. And I like animals, and Bree like animals. And the skunk IS kind of KEY. So there you go. That's my rationale. Here's the cover:

Edited to add a second skunk cover. Will the cover renditions never end?

What do you think?

California Schemin' Cover Revisted

2010-08-16T03:00:00.002-04:00

So here's the deal. A couple of the covers almost tied. With the Bridge coming up from behind at the last minute. I decided to rethink a little and we're voting again. This time there are a boat load to choose from so get a cup of coffee or a glass of wine and settle in. Or a glass of water - that's what my youngest daughter says I drink. Little does she know.

This is hard because there are two that you've seen before, actually three that you've seen and then a bunch of variations on a theme. So I'm mixing them up. Not the same order as before. I'm sorry if this is too complicated, but I did suggest wine for a reason.

1. Green/Girl Running: Almost no one liked this.

2. Girl on Stairs: This one came in second, but a strong second.

3. Girl in red shoes on staits: Was it marly that suggested this? Sorry if it was someone else - my mind is melting.

3a. Girl in green boots:

3b. Girl in work boots:

4. You've seen this the original bridge:

5. now we come to endless variations on the same theme -

5a: You can't tell, but she has angel wings.

5b.

5c.

6. Different angel (in case it looks just the same as the others!)

6b.

6c.

6d.

7b.

7c.

7d.

7e.

Ok. Is your brain mush yet? Mine is! Tell me what you think. If you can think. Which I can't.

Name that Book - Bree MacGowan number Three

2010-08-14T03:11:00.002-04:00

Here we go again. It seems like I was just here trying to name Mermaid Girls – now Glimmer Girls. And once again I’m looking for your help. I’m starting the third in my Bree MacGowan mysteries and I need a title.

The first two books have titles that are twists on song titles. Moonlighting in Vermont, song Moonlight in Vermont. California Schemin’, song California Dreaming. The third book is to take place back in Vermont. I think. I suppose it could be set partially in Canada, New Hampshire, or Mass.

So the thing is I need a song with a place in the title. Preferably a State.

Okay here’s the challenge: come up with some songs and tweak the titles so they’re appropriate for the title of a humorous mystery.

Ready?

Set.

Go…

I'm over at Motherhoot today

2010-08-13T10:49:00.000-04:00

I blogging about being a writing mom over at Motherhoot today. Stop by and leave a comment. Please? I'm feeling all lonely over here by myself.

Thanks, I knew you'd come through for me.

Choose your favorite Book Cover:

2010-08-10T04:10:00.006-04:00

In anticipation of my Bree MacGowan Sequel that comes out next march I mocked up three covers to give my editor an idea of what I like. I didn't have a favorite, and neither did she so I'm opening it up for Discussion.

If you're confused about what makes a good cover you could read Jennifer Crusie's criteria for a good cover. That might help you make a decision if you don't know which cover you like best. Basically we're looking for a cover that calls to you across the room, and when you get closer makes you want to pick it up.

By the way - these are covers I mocked up myself last evening. The real ones will be much more professional looking.

So here you go:
Option A: The Bridge Cover

Option B: The Green Cover

Option C: The Running down the Stairs cover

So tell me, what do you think?

Grave Digging: Burying the Dog Fence

2010-08-09T03:11:00.011-04:00

First let me say that I realize that most graves are dug by back hoes and not people with shovels. I know this and it’s beside the point. I’m thinking of people who are digging graves for nefarious purposes. Not cemetery employees.

But let me start at the beginning - I have three dogs who I keep from pestering my neighbors by enclosing several acres, close to eight I think, with an electric radio dog fence. The dog fence allows me to have good relationships with my neighbors. Without the fence I would be continually apologizing and paying for the damage my dogs would do. How do I know my dogs would do damage? Because they are dogs. And because they dig holes big enough to lose UPS trucks in at my house. Craters. They dig craters.

I also let one of my neighbor’s run his horses on our pasture. I know. It’s very kind of me. It’s also an easy way to keep the grass from taking over. The horses keep the pastures from looking like my garden. Really. Recently, another neighbor, we’ll call him Good Neighbor, offered a piece of land that adjoins ours to the Horse Neighbor. Horse Neighbor moved his physical fence which exposed my dog fence.

That is why, had you driven past my house early this morning, you would have seen me out in the field burying a new wire. Why do I have to bury the wire? Because now that the Good Neighbor has offered the adjoining field for Horse Neighbor to use there is no horse fence separating the two fields. The horse fence used to protect the dog fence from destruction. Think draft horse feet with lovely metal shoes. A ton of weight (yes, literally) with a sharp metal edge coming down on a tiny wire. The only way for me to keep the fence intact (and thus contain my dogs) is to bury it. Don’t you wish you could have the kind of fun I have?

This is what I discovered while digging the shallow trench to lay the wire in. Digging is not easy. It’s hard on your body, specifically the right elbow and the left leg. And face it I was just digging up the first six inches of dirt. What if I’d been trying to conceal a body? How hard would that have been?

This is what I was thinking about this as I was jumping up and down on my shovel, trying to get the blade to cut through long grass and the roots of some sort of bush. I was thinking that if I was going to ever write a mystery where someone tries to bury a body I’d better to it right. Either said villain had better have a really tough time digging this hole or they’d better borrow a back hoe. Either one would be telling. It’s hard to hide freshly dug dirt.

So what do you think? Given that digging is such hard work how would you go about hiding a body? Or would you be like my villians and just let it lie?

Writing When Times are Tough

2010-08-06T14:23:00.001-04:00

I have trouble writing in the summer. I don’t work at my regular job in the summer, so really I should be able to pound out the words. But the ugly truth is I stay up late and don’t get up early so there isn’t any real quiet time. My oldest daughter, bless her heart, wants to spend time with me, so when the other kids go to bed she wants me to sit and watch movies with her. And when she wasn’t here it was my husband and the ball games that broke my concentration. It’s my own fault. I know that if I want serious writing time I have to get out of bed between four and five in the morning. I just don’t discipline myself well.

On top of that it seems my grandma is dying. She’s ninety-eight, so she’s had a good run – but as I’ve said here before I was really expecting to attend her hundredth birthday party. My Grandma is on my mind a lot these days, and that affects my writing too. But the fact remains; if I want to grow up and be a writer I have to actually write.

So today I joined a challenge posed by the fabulous women over on Jungle Red Writers. In brief the challenge goes like this: Everyday, including weekends I have to write one page, double-spaced (I think) before I do anything else on the computer. No email, no LucyMarch.com, no Jen Crusie, and no Alastair Stephens. In other words, before I get sucked in to my daily social fix, or the promoting (read networking) that all authors have to do these days, I have to write one page. I think that’s two hundred and fifty words. (Unless it’s single-spaced and then it’s five hundred words.) I’ve already written three hundred and fifteen words in this piece. So it’s not hard to produce a page.

My normal required word count runs between fifteen hundred and five thousand words. But I haven’t been keeping up. I’m using revisions as an excuse, but come on. I need to add content to the current wip and content only comes from writing.

So here’s my plan. In the morning, before I even get out of bed, I will fire up the laptop and write that page. Maybe I will write more than one page, but at a bare minimum one page. (And I’ll look up the official rules, double or single spaced, font size etc.) One page a day. Even in a hectic summer with life happening all around me I can manage that. If I can’t then I’m going to feel pretty pitiful. After all, it’s only a page.

Here is my challenge to you. Try writing a page a day. Even if you’re not a writer. Join the challenge at Jungle Red and write. There are prizes btw, which is probably why I’m doing it! I love prizes. So write a page a day and then come here and tell me about it.

I want to hear from you.

Disorganized Disorganization

2010-07-30T12:54:00.000-04:00

Organized disorganization would be if I had all my chapters in one place and could put my finger on the one I wanted at any given time. Actually even if they were in different places if I could identify them and find them when I need them I'd be fine. More than fine. Peachy.

That's what I thought I had. Organized disorganization. I even thought I had them in the same file on the same flash drive. Wrong.

I have a very long chapter somewhere. VERY LONG. That. I. Can't. Find. It's possible I emailed it to myself at some point so I'll drag through my inbox shortly, but meanwhile the frustration mounts. How could I be so wrong about my organizational system? How could I lose such a huge chunk of my story? It had a giraffe in it for heaven's sake. How the heck do you lose a giraffe?

I have a difficult time organizing my novels as I'm writing them. I usually start sequentially but then some where along the line a scene pops out at me begging to be written even though I'm not there yet. So instead of a chapter number I give it a descriptive title thinking it will be easy to find later. Yeah right. By the time I've written a dozen or so out of order scenes I'm sunk. I can normally figure things out eventually, but this time I've gone beyond my normal level of ineptitude. I'm missing things.

I can't tell you how big a headache this gives me. It appears not only do I need an assistant to follow around after me and pick up the things I put down carelessly and then never can find again - I also need an assistant to keep my writing in order. File it properly after putting the date in the title and making sure I can identify which scene it is. Jeez, it makes me look incompetent!

Ah, the life of the creative mind. It's very messy.

My Incredible Rebounding Grandmother

2010-07-25T11:19:00.000-04:00

Some of you know that my 98 year old grandmother hasn't been feeling well. She was in the hospital for six days and when she came home her condition worsened to the point she couldn't even sit up without being totally out of breath. I was worried.

Low and behold, yesterday she was able to get up without suffering from breathlessness! This morning the same thing. Grandma seems to be rebounding from this illness, which apparently was an in balance between sodium and potassium. It's amazing to me that the ratio of sodium to potassium could make such a big difference.

I'm encouraged to the point of saying that we might be able to go back to planning that 100th birthday - although my Aunt says that maybe we should just focus on 99 for the time being.

Grandma, you rock!

Love Those Girls

2010-07-23T12:31:00.000-04:00

Before I start let me just say that I also love my boys and my youngest daughter. Just because I'm posting about the two oldest doesn't mean I don't care about the rest of you. Got that kids?

Before I start this you should probably know that we hosted a foreign exchange student last year. Mag is a wonderful girl from Belgium and she and my oldest daughter, Callan became best of friends. We were all very sad when she went back home in June.

So yesterday I posted on my facebook account something like "My oldest daughter, the genius." I'd gotten a copy of the email Yale sent her. Yale sent my daughter an email. I'm so proud I could melt. Then my daughter comments "You know it" which made me laugh.

Then Mag posted "I am the oldest daughter, Callan." You have know idea how wonderful this made me feel, besides the fact it made me laugh. That Mag feels like a part of our family touches me. That she is comfortable making jokes on my facebook posts... Well you get the picture.

I love those girls. I love their relationship to each other, that they talk via facebook everyday. Mag is this wonderful artistic young woman, Callan is into the math and science end of things. That the two of them will soon be let loose on the world is a very good thing.

Nothing but good times ahead.

Crazy Weather

2010-07-22T18:48:00.000-04:00

I don't have much to say today, as Alastair said about himself, I suck at blogging! Well sometimes anyway.

But here is the interesting thing. I'm in the central valley of California. One of the hottest places you can be in the summer. It regularly gets to 100 degrees. But it's cooler here than it was in Vermont before I left.

It was 65 this morning. It's 85 now. Pretty nice really. Perfect summer weather with no humidity. The week before I left we were having heat warnings and horrible humidity at home.

So what's up with that? It's actually cool in the house with all the doors and windows open and the breeze wafting through. Funny.

Now I will go back and sit with my Grandma some more. She's in good spirits although weak. Her body may be failing her, but her sense of humor is still intact.

Hot Friday

2010-07-09T14:51:00.000-04:00

The trouble with blogging when you're hot and sweaty is that it's hard to be upbeat. In fact, it's hard to be anything but down right cranky. Everything is bugging me, from the squeaky riding mower my neighbor is using on my lawn to the way my clothes feel, damp and sticking to my skin, it all stinks.

But I think what's really bothering me is how long it has been since I made real progress on the wip. I really want to get this done. Send away the first three chapters and go back and revise Calif. Schemin' so it's ready for publication.

But there is no peace in the summer, no breaks from the general hubbub. Last year we did a little face lift on the kitchen, this year it's my youngest daughter's bedroom. You would not believe the amount of stuff that girl had in her room that is now shoved in hallways, bedrooms and the living room. Only the Bathrooms and the kitchen are immune. The general clutter is enough to make anyone crazy. The add the heat. Bad, Bad, Bad. Thank your lucky stars you aren't living in this house!

I think the only thing for it is to get up at five in the morning and try to get a couple of hours of writing in while it's cool and before the crew starts waking up.

It's Too Hot for Knitting

2010-07-05T23:33:00.000-04:00

The truth is, its too hot for anything. I live in the North East for a reason - it doesn't get hot. Yeah, right. It's so hot here now that I was reminded of my childhood in Central California. I can remember finding my mom outside on the porch in the middle of the night and wanting to sleep out there. Well, it was probably only eleven PM, but still that was the middle of the night to me, so hot I couldn't sleep. No breeze to ease the swelter.

My mom used to wet a washcloth and put it on my forehead to cool me down so I could sleep and I did that for my youngest daughter tonight too, when she came downstairs at eleven absolutely exhausted, too tired to sleep and hating the feel of the fan on her skin. I would have died for a fan when I was her age, but that's just me.

We don't have air conditioning out here because it doesn't get hot. Hah! We have two sources of heat for the winter, but we're SOL when summer comes around. Last summer I don't think it got over about 85 degrees all summer. Rained non-stop. I complained about that too. I have strict rules for summer and she just hasn't been obeying them at all. It should be between 75 and 85 degrees, sunny - although rain at night is good because then I don't have to water, and there should be a breeze - especially at night. Doesn't that seem reasonable? Seems right to me.

I did spend three hours floating down the river today. It was a good day for that, except for the parts of us that got too much sun, and the rapids that capsized me and scared one of my sons to death. That part I could have done without.

Random Friday

2010-07-02T16:38:00.000-04:00

I put my daughter on a plane to California today. I've put her on planes before, Washington, DC, England, New York, Nova Scotia - and for longer periods of time. Last year she spent five weeks at a French immersion program at St. Anne's College, this year its ten days with my family and three weeks at Stanford. I know I'm bragging when I say my oldest is a bright kid, but it's true. She is.

But here's the thing, I was a lot more nervous about this trip than I've been about any of the others. I'm not sure why. I'm a bit better now that she's on her way, she called from Chicago to let me know she'd landed and knew where her next gate was. Soon she'll land and be in the hands of my very capable Aunt.

But there's still a voice in my head whispering that I'm losing her. And in a way maybe I am. She's growing up. In two years she'll be in college, that is if she doesn't elect to do her Senior year AT college. So she's on her way and I'm proud, but last night we held on to each other like there was no tomorrow.

I never considered myself a nostalgic mom. I'm great with letting go, being away and giving them space. But here it is in my face, this fear of losing her. Huh.

On another topic, I was walking on our road this morning. I live on a seldom traveled dirt road. In fact, I don't think I've heard more than maybe two cars go by today. Anyway, there's a hill so walking up I don't notice much but the dirt in front of my feet. Coming down I was struck again by the beauty of the place where I live. So very green, and in among the bushes sat pink flowers that no one planted. And between the breaks in the foliage gorgeous views of the distant hills. Or not so distant hills, they are just on the other side of the valley, but then there are the mountains beyond. I missed a lot this last year, working in a room with no windows. I'm glad to be home for the summer.

Okay Book and Movie Buffs Help Me Out Here!

2010-06-30T13:43:00.000-04:00

I need the titles of movies you think have stellar dialog.
I need the titles of movies you think have horrible dialog.

I need the titles of novels you think have stellar dialog.
I need the titles of novels you think have horrible dialog.

Why, you ask? Because I'm putting together an internet class on writing good dialog. The class is titled, thanks to my friend R., "Frankly My Dear…" Writing Unforgettable Dialog.

Conversation is one of my writing strengths. Earning money as a writer is one of my goals. Put them together and you get a class on writing conversation. Make sense? I thought so.

So I'm good at writing dialog, but I'm not comfortable using my work as examples in my class. I'd much rather use even better, and even worse work than mine. Which brings me to the above questions - I'd love your opinion. What do you think?

Food vs Emotion - Food wins every time

2010-06-25T01:07:00.000-04:00

Here's what I don't understand: Food.

I was a tad anxious today. Unsettled. Grumpy in the morning. I have legit reasons for anxiety so I'm not worried about that at all. Its this:

I was craving food. Not just any food, the stuff I shouldn't eat. Fat and sweet. The fact that I wasn't going to let myself have those foods was making me, if anything, worse. I started craving ice cream. I needed it. I wanted it. I had to have it. If I didn't have it I was going to die of twitchy, mind exploding emotion. I could have crawled out of my own skin.

So why? I can understand alcohol, it's mind altering. It puts a damper on anxiety, at least for me. It lets all those inhibitions loose. But I have no trouble not drinking alcohol. I have maybe two drinks a year, and those I could take or leave. Drugs the same way. Don't appeal to me.

But food. Oh God. I go into withdrawal. I crave the strangest things. Diet Coke/Pepsi. Nuts. Cookies. Chocolate, of course, but most especially ice cream. Now why is that? I know sugar can alter moods and caffeine. Oh and Chocolate. But nuts? Salt of course and fats. Are fats mind altering, because truthfully I could eat avocados non-stop for a month. Sliced, mashed, guac'ed. Avocados are lovely on toast with a little salt. So it doesn't have to be ice cream, avocados work too.

As you can probably tell, I caved. I ate an ice cream sandwich in the car outside the hardware store. And I immediately felt BETTER. Not like a pill whee you have to wait 20 minutes to get rid of a headache. Immediately. Better. Twitchiness all gone. Head back where it belongs.

This really bugs me because eating ice cream isn't in my best interest. It's hell on my blood sugar. But it works. It brings me down from places a therapist can't even reach, and it does it in five seconds flat.

Okay, I give. The therapist could probably get there eventually, but who wants eventually when you can have right now? Not me, obviously. I couldn't even make it out of the hardware store. But why?

I've heard of stuffing emotions, I haven't had my head in the sand for the bast twenty-five years. But I still don't get how avocado on toast can bring immediate relief from crawling skin and the desire to leave the country. NOW.

And cream cheese with Nutella on a toasted bagel? Takes me to heaven.

Wanted - Beta Readers

2010-06-23T11:56:00.000-04:00

So here's the deal. I'm doing things a little differently for this book and I'm looking for beta readers (see definition below) who aren't actually writers. I'm thinking three or four people who are willing to read a total of about 50 pages.

Now, if you are a writer, but think you can keep your writerly instincts under control that's ok. I'm looking for comments about story, not grammar, sentence structure or spelling or character arc. That stuff is all going to change later anyway.

You should like a romance (lightly comedic) sprinkled with paranormal elements. I'm talking mermaids and magic here. Not dark creatures.

You should be willing to read electronic copy (or print it out on your own) because the printing and mailing is expensive and time consuming.

You should be willing to write me a email/post/missive about what worked for you, and what didn't. What you liked, what confused you. What was clear. What was not. Did you like the voice? Did you think the story and voice meshed. Do you think the hole thing is drivel and should be shelved. If you'd like a form to fill out I think I could come up with one if anyone asks. Otherwise it's just what comes to your mind.

The ability to ignore typos is also a good thing, because you'll be reading a draft, not finished product, and there are going to typos and interesting word choices!

BETA READER: A brave soul (male or female) that likes to read works in process and comment honestly on the contents. Truthfulness is important, and so is the ability to be truthful without being ruthless. Being specific is okay. Being mean is not. In other words it's ok to say "I just didn't like this." It's not okay to say "Your writing stinks." It's okay to say "I think Johnny is a shallow SOB and he needs some positive character traits." Not okay to say "What's wrong with you that you think Johnny is a guy that any of us could relate to?" Savvy?

Apply within.

A Parenting Code of Honor

2010-06-18T00:31:00.010-04:00

The discussion over at Alastair's Paper Bullets of the Brain has been very interesting lately. He raised questions about the meaningfulness of the Chivalric Code in today's world. Is it relevant, is it not. Does trying to raise the consciousness of men necessarily demean women? Does a code that requires a certain behavior of men toward women intrinsically reduce the status of women? I think not, but there's lots of very intelligent discussion over there for you to peruse. Just don't fry your synapses. They take a while to recover.

While thinking all this deep and meaningful stuff over, I witnessed something in my own life that made me think there should be a code of conduct for parents toward their children.

1) could be distilled as - cause no physical harm

2) could read - cause no emotional harm including shaming, belittling, yelling, threatening. Nothing but the building up of emotional worth in children allowed.

and

3) should read no part of this code shall require parents to stay in painful or unhealthy relations for the sake of their children. Because I believe that children learn to parrot those painful and unhealthy ways of relating.

When a woman stays in an abusive relationship to create stability for her children she teaches them some very negative ideas. Like if a man treats a woman badly she should just take it. If my mother took it, then I should take it too.

We teach our girls to sacrifice their happiness for their children. In fact we teach them to stay in abusive relationships for the sake of their own children, which is just wrong. There is a cycle of unhealthy and unhappy behavior that needs to be stopped.

And we teach our boys that it doesn't matter how they behave, their women will stay with them regardless, to give stability to their children.

I say stop it now.

The following may fall under the category of too much information. If you're squeamish about personal details you might want to stop reading now.

I've recently realized that I am living my mother's life. My mother left my angry and emotionally unstable father to marry an emotionally closed man. She stayed in that unhappy marriage until the second we all moved out and then she fled. That has been my plan. I was waiting for my youngest to turn 18 when I could flee.

When I made that plan I didn't realize that I was thus dooming my girls to repeat the whole thing again. And dooming my boys to behave like giant asses until some smart woman hits them over the head with a frying pan.

As an aside, I don't think my brothers became giant asses, so maybe boys don't become their fathers. Or maybe I have exceptionally astute brothers, I don't know which but it's probably the later.

But it's all just freaking wrong, making martyrdom for one's children a virtue. And yet my mother believed it. She advised me to stay, even after she witnessed the meanness, the smallness of spirit my husband exhibited toward our small children. Before she passed away six years ago I asked her point blank if there was any point in leaving a bad relationship and she said no. She said it was unlikely I would find anything better. Stick it out was her advice. I wish now that I hadn't listened.

Because now my children have learned to talk abusively to me, their mother. The boys and girls alike will use contempt on me in order to try and get their way. They don't get their own way, I'm not rewarding that behavior, but it appalls me that they think it's okay to talk to me like that. But I know where they learned it, and I'm stopping the cycle now.

I wish there had been a code of honor among parents when I married. I think both my husband and I would have done better if there were clear rules. Sure there are books and whatnot floating around, but what if there had been an "Order of the Enlightened Parents?" And elite group to inspire the rest of us. will clear rules - and not too many. Like my rules above. Only better, and more so. More like the Chivalric Code. A code that demanded honor among parents. A code that stated that yelling at children is smarmy. That an adult is supposed to control their own behavior when the child cannot.

Would I have been a better parent if there had been an elite group to aspire to? I think so. I'm very competitive that way. I would have wanted to belong to the Divine Group of With It and Compassionate Parents. Who wouldn't?

Endings - moved forward

2010-06-17T10:02:00.000-04:00

I wrote this last Thursday but not much has changed sense then!

This is not a post about ending my book, although I'm getting there. No, it's that tomorrow is my last day at this job. I didn't particularly like what the school had me doing this year. Riding rough shod on teenagers who haven't learned respect. I don't just mean respect for me. They destroyed the stapler, two calculators, one of the tables I had to bring from home so they could have a decent work surface.

I really should be celebrating my release from this windowless room. It's been a hell of a year.

But the thing is. I never woke up dreading work. I wanted to be here. I enjoyed the kids most of the time. It was the shit job, the job no-one wanted. Hell, I didn't want it. But I took it, and I made it my own. My review was stellar, I'm told they like to keep me, but they aren't. No contract.

You know it hurts more than it should. Feeling unwanted. Yes, I know I shouldn't feel UNWANTED, after all it's budget cuts and all that. But it's hard not to. I liked getting to know the kids. Feeling like I made an impact on their lives. And I'm being cut loose, not just from the job but also from the money.

So it's scary and sad. And I'm mad that I'm letting it get to me.

To hell with them. I can go spread my joy somewhere else.

But hidden behind that righteous anger is the real sadness. The young woman who came into our lives and changed all of us for the better is leaving us in a few days. She'll be going home to her own family, in her own country and moving on with her life. She's off to college, to the start of a new life. I want to go too.

The LIRW Luncheon, The Good, The Bad and The Lovely

2010-06-12T08:36:00.001-04:00

In the interest of full disclosure let me just say that I was up prior to 4 am yesterday, spent close to 14 hours driving to and from, didn't get to bed until after midnight last night, AND because my body doesn't realize the school year is over I was up at 6 am this morning. I may be a tad cranky! So If I'm out of line on any point feel free to call me on it.

Firstly, we were late. The Tom tom we were using played a huge practical joke on us and sent us into the Bronx, and we spent a good deal of time on surface streets before regaining the freeway and making our way onto Long Island, where the luncheon was held. We (my three NECRWA companions and I) arrived late and flustered and in need of the ladies room.

LIRW graciously held lunch for us. Which I thought was lovely of them. So we missed the champagne reception, and the opportunity for networking before the lunch. That was disappointing, but certainly NOT LIRW's fault. The room the luncheon was held in was beautiful, the waitstaff attentive, the food excellent. And the air conditioning kicked in at all the right times.

I sat next to Steven Zacharius of Kensington Books. He was gracious and entertaining and fielded my questions with good humor. He was a very entertaining luncheon partner, as well as the keynote speaker, and he gave me some very good advice.

The food was fabulous. Hands down the nicest lunch I've had in a while. I'd place that in the lovely category too. Now those of you who are squeamish had better cover your eyes, because the next three points are bad.

Maybe it's just me, but if you put together a luncheon for writers to have the opportunity to schmooze with editors and agents, the proper thing to do is to let the writers schmooze. One of the luncheon organizers sat on Mr.Zacharius's other side. It was obvious they knew each other well, talking and chatting of this and that. I had to rudely interrupt to get Steven's attention, a privilege I paid highly for. That was bad form in my mind. And perhaps I'm being a tad diva-ish, but I thought she should have introduced him and then stepped gracefully out of the way. Just my opinion, but I paid $60 bucks to go to that luncheon, spent seven hours in a car getting there and I should not have had to wrestle an organizer for the opportunity to do what I had paid for. - See I told you, I'm grouchy.

The other BAD, and I personally consider this really bad, again my opinion. I am a non-smoker. The lovely lady sitting next to me was most obviously a smoker. She disappeared at regular intervals and came back bringing a cloud of smoke with her. Okay obviously not a CLOUD but definitely the SMELL. Not something I care to ever be subjected to, but especially not while I was eating. Now, had this woman been a guest I wouldn't have been so appalled. (Okay, I would have been appalled, but not to the same degree.) Nothing the hosts can do about a guests behaviour. But again this lady was one of the organizers. She was delightful in all other ways, but surely people who smoke realize the stench is unpleasant to non-smokers, and being a HOST to the rest of us should have lent a certain responsibility for courteous behavior that toward her guests? Again, I'm cranky, but cigarette smoke and food - YUCK!

One other Bad, not one the organizers could have done anything about. During the keynote speech, one of the agents in attendance was making rude comments - out loud. The writers don't want to hear this stuff? Well I'm a writer and I wanted to hear it. We all have been at functions where we didn't enjoy some aspect of the talk. The POLITE thing to do is to shut up, make your to do list (in your mind - again we are avoiding being rude here,) and complain about the speakers when you get back to work. Your co-workers are a fine audience for your annoyance, but to foist your opinion onto the other invited agents and editors AND on the guests who PAID for the privilege to listen to that speech. Badly Done - to quote Jane Austen. It's unlikely that the person who committed this act of abject rudeness will ever read this, or recognize herself if she does, but if you have the sneaking feeling this was you: Shame on you. You're mother would be very disappointed!

Hmm, maybe I should be interning with Miss Manner's instead of writing novels, except I have a sneaking feeling this post would also be considered rude!

Endings

2010-06-09T09:51:00.019-04:00

I wrote this last Thursday but not much has changed sense then!

This is not a post about ending my book, although I'm getting there. No, it's that tomorrow is my last day at this job. I didn't particularly like what the school had me doing this year. Riding rough shod on teenagers who haven't learned respect. I don't just mean respect for me. They destroyed the stapler, two calculators, one of the tables I had to bring from home so they could have a decent work surface.

I really should be celebrating my release from this windowless room. It's been a hell of a year.

But the thing is. I never woke up dreading work. I wanted to be here. I enjoyed the kids most of the time. It was the shit job, the job no-one wanted. Hell, I didn't want it. But I took it, and I made it my own. My review was stellar, I'm told they like to keep me, but they aren't. No contract.

You know it hurts more than it should. Feeling unwanted. Yes, I know I shouldn't feel UNWANTED, after all it's budget cuts and all that. But it's hard not to. I liked getting to know the kids. Feeling like I made an impact on their lives. And I'm being cut loose, not just from the job but also from the money.

So it's scary and sad. And I'm mad that I'm letting it get to me.

To hell with them. I can go spread my joy somewhere else.

But hidden behind that righteous anger is the real sadness. The young woman who came into our lives and changed all of us for the better is leaving us in a few days. She'll be going home to her own family, in her own country and moving on with her life. She's off to college, to the start of a new life. I want to go too.

Clara of the Sea

2010-06-09T09:40:00.002-04:00

The problem is my protagonist, Clara. Clara has been missing a last name since I started writing her story. I figured it would come to me, somewhere in the text and then I would just have to go back and fill it in where ever it seemed necessary. I'm pages away from finishing this book and still no name.

I've thought of a fake name for her, one that her mother uses when she puts her on TV. But her own true surname still alludes me. I'm thinking it has something to do with the sea.

Clara's "TV" Name is Ariel Marina. Clara's mom isn't all that original, she just wants her daughter's name to sound pretty and exotic and be reminiscent of mermaids.

Clara's real name is harder for me. I want it to be about the ocean, but not obviously so. I'm thinking Valtameri - but that doesn't sound right with Clara. Clara Valtameri. Nope. Try again. How about Clara Karagatan. That might work. Okyanas. Clara Okyanas? Mor? Clara Mor. Unfortunately the o has a tent over it and I don't know the correct keystroke to make that work, so maybe that's not the choice for me. Clara Moore. Mor is Welsh, Farraige is Irish.

You can see the problem, there are too many possibilities! It has to have a ring to it, and it has to connect her to the sea. I'll be at this all day!

Name that Dialog

2010-06-04T16:08:00.000-04:00

I'm putting together a class on dialog and need a catchy title for it.

Snappy dialog that...
smart talking
chipper chatter?

All REALLY bad.

Got any ideas?

Blatant Self Promotion

2010-06-04T12:55:00.000-04:00

More Blatant Self Promotion (aka Shameless self Promotion)

Hi all, Stop by the Author's Show http://www.theauthorsshow.com/ on Monday, June 7th - where Don McCauley will be interviewing me. It's not live so you can check it out any time that day.

A Book Within a Book

2010-06-02T09:20:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I found myself writing a book within a book. Quoting passages from a non-existent book in my current wip. The funny thing is that story has become very clear in my mind. So even though I've written maybe five paragraphs, the rest of the novel is floating around in my brain, begging the question "Is this a story I need to write?"

I could write it. It's probably only a novella. I shudder as I say this knowing I am tempting fate. I say a novella and the universe laughs and feeds a bunch more into my head making it an epic 150000 word novel. Or something horrible like that.
But the question really is should I take the time to write it. Would it be interesting to anyone but me? That's pretty much an unanswerable question. No one has seen the first story, so how could I know if they are interested in the second, nested within it? I don't know, and I have so many other projects that need to be written that the smart thing would be to ignore this one. But it keeps bumping up against the edges of my brain; trying to work its way out in such a way that I'm not sure I'm going to be able to ignore it.

So close I can taste it!

2010-05-21T10:27:00.000-04:00

I haven't counted my word totals in a while. Those weeks where I wasn't writing due to other commitments loomed large in my head. I didn't feel like I was making progress. But I had a couple of good days this week where the writing was easy and the word counts mounted up so I thought I'd check out my total. I don't always write linearly, sometimes a scene pops up out of sequence and I open a new document. At the moment I have fourteen separate documents that I'll have to meld together into one.

So I wrote down the fourteen word counts and added them together: Get this - 58037. That's nearly two thirds of the way through. Two thirds. I could conceivably be done in another month. It'll probably be two because I just don't get that much quiet time to write, especially in the summer, but still I'm getting another book finished.

What you may not understand is that this is amazing to me. Not that I finished one book, that's like me to take on a huge project and push through it. But then I also took on a second and finished it, and now a third, plus I have about half another book waiting for me to go back to it. I'm a fickle person. My usual MO in life is to master something and move on. Or not even master, sometimes it's just complete it and then move on. Or, even more often, Complete one, start on a second or a third and then just abandon it, because I'm bored with it now. Or I can't find the time. I have a quilt in pieces in my sewing box. A cross stitch 90 percent complete. An afghan in pieces - I may just say that they are scarfs and let it go at that. A crochet Boa scarf I havent' completed because I just don't have the time. But the books - they are getting finished.

Interesting. Part of it may be due to the fact that I now have readers. And they write and ask for the next book, setting up an expectation that I need to fulfill. But mostly I think it's because the writing is a part of me in a way that the other projects aren't. It allows me to communicate, to use my humor and wit (what there is of it) to entertain. And God knows I love to get a laugh.

So there it is. 58037. Pretty darn good if I say so myself. It brings me more pleasure than I can say. And that makes ME laugh.

A Sentimental Journey

2010-05-14T09:15:00.001-04:00

I don’t usually consider myself sentimental. I don’t get choked up at the usual milestones. Kids going off for their first day of Kindergarten? Yippee! Sixteen year old get’s her license and can drive herself back to school to get her forgotten school work? Finally! Kids can put themselves to sleep? Hey, I can go to bed before they do! Can’t beat that. So imagine my surprise when I found myself tearing up at the sight of a hall full of our high school seniors in cap and gown.

Granted our Foreign Exchange Student was in that group, and it’s a reminder that she’ll be leaving us soon. But it was more than that. One of my best friends’ sons was in the group. There were a bunch of students I’ve gotten to know over this last year in a way that wouldn’t be possible if I hadn’t worked in the school. Still, me? Tearing up? What’s going to happen in a couple of years when my oldest graduates? I’m going to flood the school.

I have this funny ache in my chest that has taken me completely by surprise, and not even I can put a funny spin on that. I’m going to miss this group of miscreants.

See me over at Frances Stockton's Blog

2010-05-13T12:55:00.000-04:00

I'm over at Frances Stockton's blog talking about some of my creative processes. Come on over and make a comment. - I'm feeling all alone!

So why aren't I writing again?

2010-05-11T09:13:00.000-04:00

I'm finished Judging the seven books I committed to for the Daphne pubbed division. Let me tell you, reading, rating and commenting on seven books in three weeks is not easy. You wouldn't think it would be hard, but it is. Why it's hard is complicated, but is partially due to the subjectiveness of judging. What I love another judge may hate. And while that doesn't really affect my scoring, it affects how I feel about the how I score. It's mental work, and if you don't happen to like the book you're judging it's grueling. Because you have to finish. You can't just put it down and move on.

Having finished yesterday I thought I might be able to get back to Glimmer Girls today. But I haven't recovered. I still have all these other stories floating in my head, getting in the way of the magic I need for Clara and Dilly. I should have my soundtrack with me, but it's sitting on my bedside table with the story I was listening to. Soundtrack at home, Collage at home, eyes at half mast. How in the world can I write?

One word at a time.

I may not make my minimum word count today. But in this situation I think I have to forgive myself the word count and just focus on moving forward. One lousy word at a time. Because this isn't going to be one of those easy days when the words pour out. I'm going to have to drag them to the page, kicking a screaming and stick them there with glue.

The Garbage in my Head

2010-05-04T10:15:00.000-04:00

As you may, or may not, know, I'm a regular reader of Jenny Crusie and Lucy March's blogs. I think I'm a little like both of these women. Jenny because she writes and she's crafty, Lucy because she's making changes and making her life better.

Lucy is fearless in a way that I am not. She's been willing to look at the junk in the trunk and throw some of it out. In the process she discovered that she likes running. Wow.

I have a lot of trash floating around in my head.
On the whole, I'm optimistic, like people, find life engaging. In fact I think my basic personality is pretty positive. When I was a small child, before my life got complicated, I used to wake up singing in the morning. A friend of mine claims I still do that when I stay at her house, but I don't remember doing it. There just this small bubble of joy that comes out when I'm relaxed and freed from the daily stresses. That's the good stuff.

The garbage in my head, that's the bad stuff. I am harder on myself than any other person in the world. Meaning I'm harder on myself than I am on others, harder on myself than they are on me.

What I was going to write is that I lie to myself. But I don't really think I do. I sugar coat some things. I'm used to beating myself up if I relax instead of doing one of the million things on the to do list. But I'm going to stop that. Everyone is allowed to have down time, for gosh sakes. Even me.

The garbage in my head has a lot to do with shoulds. I should put my kids before myself. I should make more money. Maybe that's more practical, I need to make more money - or spend less. I've stopped thinking I should cook, I should clean. I shouldn't. I do, because it's less hassle than not doing it would be, but really - I think other's in the house could chip in more. I am after all, working full time, writing as much as I can, taking care of 5 kids at the moment. But I do what I need to do keep a certain level of peace and order.

I'm beginning to think there isn't so much garbage in my head after all. Pressure, yes. Plenty of pressure. Garbage, not so much anymore. I'm getting better at tossing that out as it shows up.

Life Crazy

2010-04-13T09:43:00.000-04:00

I put Eleanor Rigby on my play list for Glimmer Girls. I thought at first it was a version of Life Crazy. But I'm listening now and I see the connection. Clara, in the midst of so much attention is lonely. Dilly, sequestered away and kept from the world - lonely. Johnny, who can't commit to a relationship because all his energy goes to keeping his sister safe and happy. Molly, working her but off to keep the hotel running, but she really loves to paint.

Clara comes into their lives and changes everything. For the better in the end. I hope. But before she comes it's Eleanor Rigby.

Emotion is so important to the story, it drives my characters actions. The need to feel better. So it's good I can feel those things.

The problem is that when life crazy floods ME with emotions I can't write. The feelings sit in the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. When I feel sick I want to go to bed and pull the covers over my head.

Isn't it interesting that the very feelings I need to feel in order to write characters that readers relate to cause me to shut down, keep me from writing. I've always had too much emotion for my brain to process. I retreat, pull in on myself, hide. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I don't have the time or opportunity to spend days holed up in bed hiding from the current version of Life Crazy.

I've committed myself to writing through the crazy - at least for this week.

On another note, I discovered yesterday that I can write a five hundred word essay in twenty minutes, even though it takes me all day to write fifteen hundred words of a novel. So along with committing myself to writing through the crazy I'm also going to write for an hour straight out every morning before doing anything else. I hope this is not doomed to failure. To get an hour of quiet in the morning means the getting up at five am routine. I'm not good at that.

To tell the truth I think the reason it takes me all day to reach my word quota is that I'm writing in a room full of teenage kids. Five in the morning is starting to look much saner than when I first mentioned it.

The Not Writing Week

2010-04-09T12:46:00.000-04:00

In case the title isn't clear, I'm not writing this week. It's not an intentional Not-Writing-Week. I started in a blue funk over some uncontrobable thing, moved into reading for a writer friend who wanted some advice and ended with oh-here's-California-Schemin' and you-need-to-make-some-changes from my California expert and line editor de jour, Lisa.

I'll get another set of changes before too long from my other line editor de jour, but hopefully they won't be a bunch different from Lisa's. But they may not be too different from the ones I already have. I hope. I hope alot.

So I haven't writen one word of Glimmer Girls. Really. Not one word. It's kind of hard to make word counts when I'm not writing. Duh. As it happens I'm not getting the Glimmer Girls mood this week either. I haven't got a sound track yet, and the collage isn't finished. So my usual fail-safes for getting into the mood, aren't in place.

The weekend is here so I'll push myself to stay up late and do a sound track. The collage is harder, because I need certain kinds of pictures on glossy paper. I usually use magazines, but there's a certain magic element that isn't common in gossips rags. I may have to break down and print color pics off the internet onto photo paper. Expensive, but there is a NEED for it.

Being a poor writer sucks sometimes. If I was flush I could just go to joannes or michaels and buy lovely scrapbook items to put on my collage. I have to be more creative than that, which is okay, but takes time. As time is skint too, I have to get really creative and manufacture time and materials and stories. After all it's all about stories. People in my head that refuse to go away unless I write about them.

The Glimmer Girls voices are surprisingly silent this week. I doubt that will last.

Bree MacGowan Rides Again!

2010-04-07T11:37:00.000-04:00

It's come to my attention that I never blogged the good news about Bree. Having unloaded my guts onto the internet many wonderful people came to my rescue and bought enough copies of Moonlighting to make my editor reconsider. She's willing to read California Schemin' and publish it if it's any good.

California Schemin' is the second of the Bree MacGowan Mysteries, I'm hoping you all enjoy it. I hear the second book is nerve wracking for a writer. Trying to get the right mood, making it as good etc. It certainly is making me nervous - Did I write a good enough book?

I guess we'll see how I did when the book comes out!

And Thank you, to everyone who bought Moonlighting. My readers are the best.

Monday Ticker on Glimmer Girls

2010-04-05T10:47:00.000-04:00

It's bad. Very bad. Total word count as of today: 30797. That puts me a third of the way through the book. So very slow....

As you may have heard the new title (for now) is Glimmer Girl. Titles are always up for grabs until the book is on the press. At that point you're pretty much stuck with it.

I'm not going to spend a lot of time on this blog today - I've got a lot of book to finish!

Glimmer Girls

2010-03-31T09:42:00.000-04:00

I don't have anything worth saying today so I'm giving you an excerpt from Glimmer Girls/Shimmer/Mermaid Girls. It's ROUGH. A very first draft (mostly). And as some of you know I can't spell, and I don't get funny until the second or third time around. In other words, this is probably not worth reading. But as only three people read my blog anyway...

Once upon a time, future or past, a young woman of about twenty-five stood in a dreary dressing room and grew a back bone. She faced down the one person whose approval she had always craved, whose advice she had always taken: her mother, Daisy. She looked her mother in the eye, and for the first time ever she said “no.” It was about time. Her name was Clara.

“No, mother, I won’t go on.” Clara stood with her back to the mirror, feet planted arms crossed. “I done with being the local freak show.”

“But Clara, dearest.” Her mother reached out and caressed one o f the red-gold curl that had found their way out of the up-do and onto Clara’s shoulder. “The camera is always so kind to you. And what will Fernando say if you don’t appear?” Daisy was smaller than her daughter, dark haired against Clara’s fair head. She was full of tenacity, used to getting it all her way.

“I’m not the slightest bit worried about Fernando, mother. He will make the best of it, as a good talk show host would. Go yourself, and tell the world of the difficulties of having a willful child for a change. I’m sure they are tired of my oddities by now.

“Oh Clara.” Her mother was clearly exasperated. “You know they won’t believe me if you aren’t there to show them.”

“They’ve all seen me, Daisy. You’ve had me on TV at least twice a year since the day I was born. I’m not going out there.”

“Very well, Clara, but it’s on your head alone if I’m a laughing stalk.” The way Daisy squared her shoulders as she left the room would have made Clara laugh if she’d been in a laughing mood. Like she’s going to meet the executioner. But lord knows the audiences have always loved her. A gasp of sympathy would erupt whenever Clara was unveiled. Outbursts of compassion would come during the question and answer segments. Daisy would be just fine.

Clara looked in the dressing room mirror. As a defect, it wasn’t so awfully bad. I have all my limbs. It was the mantra she’d used since she could remember, staving off the loathing a despair that she felt whenever she was paraded around, the local freak show. And I have a pretty face. I’m not fat or stupid. It’s rather pretty, really, like a neon necklace. But the undeniable reality was that she’d been born with fish scales covering parts of her body.

The scales shimmered. A lacy pattern of blue and green, like peacock feathers, or multicolored tetra fish. A delicate necklace of scales circled her neck falling across the tops of her shoulders into a V between her breasts. Intricate overlapping patterns cascaded down her back ending with elaborate curly cues along her waist.

Clara pulled her customary, short sleeve, mock turtleneck on over the low cut, backless dress that her mother made her wear for TV. She hailed a cab outside the studio and went home to pack her bags. She’d been shilling for her mother since she could remember, spending hours in green rooms and sitting under television lights. She’d gotten a BFA, specializing in graphic arts, by studying in dressing rooms, and while traveling on busses and trains. She wanted nothing more than to get out of the city, find a town where no one had the slightest interest in her and get on with life

Monday Ticker and the Mermaid Girls Title List

2010-03-29T09:23:00.001-04:00

Word count as of This morning: 27066. Dismal really. But hey, progress is progress. I will do better!

On a more interesting topic here is the short list of titles. I’m not sure we’ve got it yet, but I’d love you to weigh in. Do you like any of these? Are you feeling there is something better? If you need a feel for the story look back to my first title blog: http://kategeorgewrites.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-all-in-title-freeforall.html

I have a favorite, but I’m not telling yet. Got a better idea? Please share.

Hooked
Clara Mia
Dear Johnny
Out of the Blue
Johnny Be Good
Sea Spells
Shimmer
Clara Mia Mine
Luminous
Glimmer Girls
Glimmer Girl
Incandescence
Iridescent

Come on now - I want to hear what you think. If you don't like any of them say so! It's no skin off my nose, most of them were thought up by someone else!! (sorry guys.)

The Workshop that Wasn't

2010-03-28T16:30:00.000-04:00

This weekend I taught a workshop at the NECRWA Let Your Imagination Take Flight Yearly Conference. Did I say taught? Muddled through would be more accurate. Now none of the participants complained, they didn't know what I was capable of doing, thank goodness, but I do. I stank.

This is something I don't understand about myself. When I'm on, I'm on. Funny, energetic, fabulous vocabulary. When I'm off, forget it. I lose my place in the lecture, can't remember words, ramble on. It's pitiful. And that was me yesterday. When I was done I would have happily crawled under a rock.

So I'm asking myself, what went wrong? Stage fright? No not really. I've been mulling it over and here's what I think:

First of all, I should have stood up. They were taping all the workshops, (They can throw mine out) and I was tied to a microphone at a table. I do much better when I stand up. My thoughts are clear, I project better. There is something about standing in front of the audience that clicks in my head and signals my brain to kick in.

Secondly, the audience. It was small. six people. We should have been sitting around a small table, not spread throughout a confernce room. The room wasn't set up for a small group and it would have me much more comfortable to talk to this group, rather than lecture.

I should have asked for a longer time slot. My workshop required the attendees to write and then share their writing. That takes time. We ran out.

Lastly preparation. I was over prepared in some areas and under in others. I need to even it out. Also, I let workshops I went to before hand influence me. I kept wanting to incorporate what others had said into my talk. I should have stuck to my original outline.

So there you go. Do I think it will help for next time? Honestly? No. I know myself. Sometimes I'm on. Most of the time I'm on. But when I'm not - well forget it. There was nothing I could do. I already had on my scrunchy black cowboy boots and lucky underwear. If they couldn't save me there was nothing I could do.

It's all in the Title - Free-for-aller and Monday Ticker

2010-03-22T09:29:00.000-04:00

Very little Progress this Monday. I'm up to 21,306. In my own defense I want to say that I was working on a synopsis and contest entry essay last week, as well as Mermaid Girls.

Speaking of Mermaid Girls here is The Infamous List of Titles:

Water Baby
Gasping for Air
Hooked
Plenty of Fish
Swim Fare
Out of the ordinary
Clara Mia
Dive Right In
Skin Deep
Breaststroke
Head above Water
sink or Swim
Dancing Downstream
Different Strokes
Back Stroking
Swim Meet
Dear Johnny
Out of the Blue
Swim Practice
Johnny Be Good
Swimmingly
In the Swim
Net Worth
Beneath the Surface
All that Glitters
HIdden Treasure
A different Magic
The Clara Charm
The Clara Quest
Sea Spells
Land Locket
Out of the Ocean
Shimmer
Heraldy and the Purple reality
Gleam a little Gleam
Deram A little Gleam
Sweet Gleems
Clara Mia Mine
Luminous
Glimmer Girls
Rise and shine
Iridescent
Sparkle and Shine
Mermaidens
Mermaid Sightings
More Than Mermaids
Gleam Girls
Fish Sticks
Tower of Mabble
Fish Stems
Flower of Mabble

I'll start narrowing it down tomorrow! Unless someone else wants to jump in and play!

Perception

2010-03-20T11:43:00.001-04:00

I'm loving the titles coming in on my last post. Hope to see some more come in. But while we're waiting I wanted to say something about perception.

My dogs are obnoxious. They bark at everyone that goes by, if they know them or not. It irritates me, not because of the noise, but because I think it makes me a bad neighbor.

I have a neighbor with horses. Heck I have lots of neighbors with horses. One particular man drives his draft horses past on a regular basis. I used to tell him to call me before he came past my house and I'd bring the dogs in. He looked at me like I was crazy.

"You're dogs are helping me to make the horses bomb proof." ( a bomb proof horse is trained to resist it's instincts to run when its afraid. They are steady, predictable and win more driving competitions than horses who aren't.) (do I have my it's (its) mixed up?)

So there you have it. My perception is that my dogs are a pain to my neighbors.

His perception is that it's handy to have obnoxious dog up the road because it helps him train his horses.

I have no idea what the other neighbors think of us. Probably they aren't to worried about our dogs. They have their own quirks and probably think we think they are obnoxious. Luckily we live in the country so we aren't on top of each other, and really, I have the best neighbors in the world.

It's all in the Title - Freeforall!

2010-03-19T11:47:00.001-04:00

I don't feel I'm particularly good at titles. I've called my current WIP Mermaid Girls, but it's sort of misleading and doesn't let on that the book is full of witty dialog and the possiblity of magic, so I'm opening it up. Got an idea? Feel free to post!

I’m currently working on a romance set in a world where the possibility for the paranormal exists. It’s not everyday, but still stuff happens. In fact, it’s possible that my protagonist’s father is a mermaid. So far it hasn’t been said, but I think maybe there’s a merman out there with a taste for legs.

Clara was born with scales. Here’s a description from the WIP:

“As a defect, it wasn’t so awfully bad. I have all my limbs. It was the mantra she’d used since she could remember, staving off the loathing a despair that she felt whenever she was paraded around, the local freak show. And I have a pretty face. I’m not fat or stupid. It’s rather pretty, really, like a neon necklace. But the undeniable reality was that she’d been born with fish scales covering parts of her body.

The scales shimmered. A lacy pattern of blue and green, like peacock feathers, or multicolored tetra fish. A delicate necklace of scales circled her neck falling across the tops of her shoulders into a V between her breasts. Intricate overlapping patterns cascaded down her back ending with elaborate curly cues along her waist.”

Clara’s mother, Daisy, has taken advantage of Clara’s ‘deformity’ by parading her around to TV talk shows, gossip rags, medical magazines – using any media source to get attention, not for Clara’s sake, but to satisfy her own need for attention.

At the start of the story Clara has finally developed a back bone. She will shill for her mother no more. Clara packs up and moves north a hundred miles to the quaint and faintly magical town of Mabble. In Mabble Clara meets Johnny, a restorer of antique carousel animals. (my apologies to Jennifer Crusie, who I believe has something similar in a current release. I didn’t do it on purpose and if people object I’ll try and figure out a new occupation for him. I hope not though, because I’ve written a lot about Johnny!)

Clara and Johnny become a team, searching for her vocation in life. Or rather her avocation – a prudent judge required Daisy to set aside money for Clara until she turned 25. They grow to know and like each other while exposing Clara to new experiences.

Johnny doesn’t know Clara has scales. Clara doesn’t know Johnny has a little sister, Dilly, who could be her double, including scales. Dilly’s mother has isolated her from the rest of the world, and lives in fear of the physical defect ever being exposed.

Johnny is not without his faults; he has avoided relationships with women because of his sister, but tends to be a bit of a hit-and-run artist with the women.

Clara has some trouble with men who are attracted to her because she has money. She also has trouble developing any kind of intimacy because she’d rather not show off her scales ever again.

I’ll leave it there. There’s a lot of witty dialog. Hopefully some fun. Happy ending of course, but I don’t want to give too much away.

** I forgot, I tend to write light, kinda funny, kinda sexy stuff. I'm not Jenny by any means, but I titles like hers would be fine!**

Taxes

2010-03-16T16:04:00.000-04:00

I just wasted a whole day doing the taxes. Okay, maybe not the whole day, but still. And I get to the end, and think Good, I'm DONE. and I realize there's a mistake. And when I fix that mistake I lose two-thirds of our refund. Bummer.

I hate doing the taxes. It's numbers. I got decent grades in math when I was in college - back when I still had something of a brain. But now they just frustrate me. They don't cooperate. Words I can usually get to do my bidding, and if not, I can fudge it. There is no fudge factor with numbers. They're either right, or they're not. And usually it's not. They get my hopes up, and then dash them on the rocks at the bottom of a thousand foot cliff.

Words are a little more forgiving. If you forget a word, like say 'little,' there are substitutions: tiny, small, diminutive and even 'not big' will do in a pinch. There's no substitute for eight. Oh you could say 4 + 4, but try marking a price tag (4+4)9.50. I'm sorry the shop would lose more than just my business.

I left one diminutive 1 out of one of the figures on my taxes. I put it back in, and I'm blue.

By the way, the other thing you can do with words - is make them up. Try making up a number and see where that gets you. Floop. That's my new word for the day.

Internetily Challenged

2010-03-15T10:18:00.000-04:00

For some reason I can't get my ticker to post anywhere. I created the ticker as a fun way to track my progress (by way of word counts) on my current work in progress. I did it at the The Ticker Factory and it should be as simple as cut and paste. But not for me.

I got it to post on my facebook profile. But not my facebook fan page. Not in the status. Not on this blog. And it's so cute. A pretty little dragonfly is speeding along a purple bar, tracking my progress. I wanted to share it with you.

Unfortunately, if you want to see it, you have to go look at my facebook profile. It should really be on my fan page. So sad, it won't show there.

The Power of the Internet

2010-03-11T13:14:00.000-05:00

As some of you know I had some bad news last week. (See the notes section of my facebook page.) My editor regretfully passed on my second book because sales on my first book were so slow. I posted on facebook and basically spilled my guts on another author's blog - a bestseller who I happen to really like, and she was kind enough not to take down my off topic rant.

I was very sad and upset, and this author said kind things. It's one of the things I like about this author, even though she must be incredibly busy, she always has time for her followers/friends. And here comes the miracle: The people who follow her blog, stepped up and bought my book. And then they said nice things about it. I had the biggest sale month I've ever had, and we aren't even half way through. WOW.
I didn't even know this until I contacted my publisher. Now that I've gotten over the rejection I felt I needed to write and say I understood, and thank you for the opportunity, etc. My editor wrote back to tell me about the sales, and to give me another chance. If I can sell another 40 books by May 1st she'll take a look at the next Bree mystery.
I'm back in the game. At least temporarily. I get another chance to figure out how to sell books!

That's the power of the Internet. If I hadn't spilled my guts, I wouldn't have gotten a second chance. And the nice thing is, I didn't have to do any self promotion. I simply was looking for support from people I don't know, but consider my friends anyway. I got it in spades.

It's the Flu,Damn it!

2010-01-25T17:14:00.000-05:00

It's four in the afternoon, I have the flu, and I'm on the porch in my jammas in the driving wind and rain so I can take a picture of the Huge and Horrible Willow tree that I love, and that is likely to take out my house. I don't see anything wrong with this picture. I'm tired of being in bed with the flu. I've been there for days. I'm not getting any better lying in bed, NOT eating anything, and although I love teasing my friends on facebook, I really should be working. And although it's not warm out, its not freezing either. So what the heck, might as well let you see the tree from the center of Hades.

The beauty of this is while those of you who know me well will know the truth, those of you who don't know me all that well can say, "It was the flu, you know. She was a little out of her head with the flu."

If you look closely you will see a cable holding this monster's two trunks together. If the plan doesn't fail, that cable will keep the taller of it's dual personalities from landing on my house. I've got my fingers crossed. It really is a beautiful tree in the summer time.

So here you go, a picture of impending doom, in the middle of a Janurary thaw and a storm that is threatening to blow us all away.

It's Party Time! The first draft is done

2010-01-20T09:41:00.000-05:00

Soooo, the first, and very rough, draft of California Schemin' is done. I've danced, I've hollered, I've bragged. I'm feeling pretty good about my second novel being finished less than a year after my first was contracted. Yeah me!

I figure I can now have a two week vacation from writing. I've earned it, and God knows my house looks as though seven Tasmanian devils live there. There is PLENTY to do. If I remember correctly I finished late Sunday night or early Monday morning. Really early Monday morning. Today is Wednesday. And what am I thinking about? The half finished third novel that's waiting for me. AM I NUTS?

It is not time to start writing again. My Brain needs a rest. Right?

Apparently not. Tank and Maggie are calling to me. Wild plot twists have been popping into my head. So maybe what I need a rest from is CA Schemin' not writing. Maybe I can let myself write a little bit of T&M while waiting to edit CS. I'm actually feeling a little excited about getting back to The double murder at a rest stop!

The Evil of Editor Envy

2010-01-11T23:13:00.000-05:00

One day I'm going to find out that people have actually been reading my blog, and boy am I going to be embarrassed! As long as I pretty much think that I'm talking to myself I can say anything I want. After all, cyberspace isn't judgmental. Heck cyberspace doesn't have time to be judgmental. It's too busy directing traffic.

I've been thinking lately about the evils of wanting to be someone else. Or even wanting to be like someone else. It's no secret that I want to be like certain other writers who work with a certain editor who I'm completely in awe of. That editor is a star maker, and damn if I don't want to be a star.

But I have an editor. In fact, considering the number of writers who are never published, I'm dang lucky to have an editor. She took a chance on me when no one else would, including the star maker. So here I sit, wishing I were someone other than who I am. At the very least someone who has the time to both write and market effectively. And somewhere else someone else is wishing they were me. Wishing that at the very least someone would take a chance on them.

The truth is that we are all in the cycle somewhere. And although logic tells me we can't all be stars, I can't help but think that my time will come. My star will rise. Wishful thinking? Maybe. But it's the belief that it's possible to obtain our goals that keeps me trying. Keeps me juggling the writing with the marketing with the kids with the husband with the dogs. Because I want it all, and no one has been able to convince me that I can't have it.

Study Hall 101

2010-01-08T16:43:00.001-05:00

Some of you know that I took on the job as study hall monitor for the high school this year. Either I need my head examined or it's more fun than a barrel of monkeys. You decide.

Today was especially interesting. The Chemistry teacher needed someone to cover his class for a few hours today, so study hall got moved to the chem lab and I got double the normal amount of students. If you think study hall is a hoot with just study hall students, try adding the entire population of school brainiacs. We have one side of the room watching inane and probably forbidden YouTube videos while the other side of the room is measuring, weighing, and heating. You heard me right: heating. As in Bunsen burners and hot plates. Thank God it was only hot plates today. Because Bunsen burners and study hall students do not mix. Not one bit.

Wants some highlights? A "pretend" brawl between two seniors, a boy and girl turned into a knee in the groin; rolling around on the floor, hand sanitizer in the hair incident in which the boy got the worst of it. I'm telling you I would not mess with that girl. She's a tough one.
Then there was the constant begging for me to take the group outside to play ultimate Frisbee in the snow. After me repeat idly telling them 'no!' a few of them thought they'd play ultimate Frisbee in the chem lab. Oh joy. "Please don't send us to the planning room Mrs. George, we'll stop now."

Needless to say, I didn't get any writing done. I have never been so happy to get back to the study hall as I was fifth period today. Even seventh period was tame compared to the Chemstudy Lall today.

KOD BIAW (or Book in a Week with the Kiss of Death Chapter of the RWA)

2009-12-02T10:23:00.000-05:00

Here's the deal. I signed up to write 1500 words a day this week. Not exactly a book in a week, but progress. It helps to have other writers paying attention to the progress I'm making. It keeps me honest, and honestly, it keeps me writing when I otherwise would be distracting myself.

To tell the truth, I don't find it easy to write every day. If I did, I'd be producing a lot more than I do. I'd have a stockpile of manuscripts. On the days like today every word on my wip (work in progress) is extracted painfully from my brain. Nothings flowing. I don't know what the heck is supposed to happen next. It's excruciating.

Conversely, (like the big words?) Conversely, I can write fifteen hundred words of a blog in a heart beat. Easy peasy. It’s because blogging is talking on paper. And it can be pretty hard to shut me up. I like the sound of my own voice. Telling you about my thoughts, feelings, observations can be a lot easier than telling a story, especially when I don’t have any idea where the story is going. I do know how it ends, but how in the world is Bree going to get there from here?

I don’t know where I'm going, but I’m committed to putting words on the page. Dreadful words perhaps. But words. And, as Joni B. Cole once told me, my readers won't be able to tell the words than sprang flowing from my mind from the words dug from mug with a toothpick. That piece of wisdom surprised me, but apparently it's true.

I’ll get back to the mud flats now.

Fabulous Thanksgiving

2009-11-30T10:43:00.000-05:00

I want you to know that part of this already appeared on Jenny Crusie's Blog. I know - it's cheating. But after I wrote it, I thought it wasn't too bad and I decided to export it over here and expand on it. I need all the help I can get. I don't think Ms. Crusie would mind, as the words are all mine. I don't think the three of you that read my blog also read Jen's blog so I'm not really repeating anything. Just borrowing.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. We have a foreign exchange student from Belgium living with us for a year. She’s wonderful (Thank Goodness) and when it came to her turn to say what she was thankful for she made us all cry – partially because she was crying herself and partially because she was thankful to be living with us. That’s a mini miracle.

After reading how Jen Crusie and her wonderful readers (Cherries is what they call themselves) make gravy from scratch, I have to confess: I fake the gravy. I use the stuff from the grocery and put the Turkey drippings in it. I know it’s awful, but really I’m not a cook. The Madhouse crew is lucky if nothing is burned and all their favorite dishes appear on the table. So in my eyes Thanksgiving was a success. Only I forgot to make myself a turkey sandwich for lunch today, so now I'm disappointed.

Now that the day devoted to food is over it's time to think about Christmas. What I want for Christmas – well I’m greedy and I don’t want you all to know it – so I’ll only put down the important things. I want to finish California Schemin’ before Christmas. Not going to happen – well maybe – a small possibility if I focus, focus, focus. Just the first draft. So I’ll have three months to edit it into shape.

I also want Jen Enderlin as an editor. She just sounds so fabulous. Not that I don’t like my editor – she’s perfectly wonderful. But there is only one J.E.

The most important Christmas wish is that I can get my kids a few nice things for Christmas without breaking the bank and having to catch up for the following year. It’s a challenge, and I’m in this one on my own as my dh likes to pretend that Christmas doesn’t exist until the day of. (Did I actually SAY that? Well yes I did, must be getting tired of being in charge of EVERYONE’s Christmas expectations. Sorry – but you notice I’m not deleting it.) So if anyone has any fabulous, but not too expensive gift ideas I’d love to hear them!

Hope you all had good Thanksgivings, and that the Christmas planning is not too stressful. We still don't have any snow. Very unusual. Smacks of global warming, the ground isn't even frozen yet. Oh wait, global warming is a myth isn't it, so it must be the effect of aliens flying their space ships above Vermont and heating our atmosphere.

Voice

2009-11-23T10:06:00.001-05:00

In March I'm teaching a workshop on voice for the NECRWA conference held in MA. I'm excited about presenting and hope that I do a good job. Well not just hoping - I'm also doing my homework so that it comes out well.

I chose to do a workshop on finding your voice for a couple of reasons. There's been a lot of talk about voice lately. What is it, how do you get it, how do you recognize it? I think I have a fairly distinctive voice. And, I as I use a fairly natural voice, it was easy for me to come by it. So I'm passing on some small pieces of knowledge about writing. It should be fun for me and my audience - we'll see.

The thing about voice is that it can make or break your story. You can have a really great story - plot full of twists and compelling characters, but if you bore the audience with your style it won't matter. A good story is not enough. You also have to tell it in a compelling manner.

Just think about the books that you've started and put down before finishing the first chapter. Do you remember much about them? Probably not. Were the stories themselves "bad" stories. Probably not. After all, a good writer can make the grocery list a good read. Most likely it was the writing itself that failed you. The voice didn't grab you.

Think about books you love. It could be that the plot was spectacular, but most likely it was the way in which it was written that caught your attention. The words the writer used. They way the story was put together.

There's more to it than that, of course. There always is. But I'm willing to bet you forgive a lot of mediocre writing if the voice of the author speaks to you.

Hair and Jealousy - it's not pretty

2009-11-19T10:29:00.000-05:00

Have you seen Jennifer Crusie's new (well newish, it's been up less than a year, I think) web site and blog? I go there quite often as I am a big fan of her writing. It struck me today how beautiful her site is. Why today. Don't really know.

Maybe it 's because I laughed until I cried over a boy in my classroom with pigtails sticking up from his head and appreciation for art crept in while the tears were leaking out. The funny thing is that after the hair incident I opened Jenny's blog - and it's about hair! Strange hair. Which was worth another chuckle if not tears.

So why am I jealous of Jenny Crusie's site instead of just being appreciative of having a great place to go and read stuff? I'm not sure. My kids say I don't smile or laugh enough since I've started working again. That knowledge distresses me, and makes me crankier. I think the secret thought process is something like: Not only is Jenny Crusie and bestseller - and I'm not, but she also has a fantastically designed Internet presence and I don't. Sour grapes. Lack of appreciation for what I do have.

I notice I'm also jealous of the yet unnamed author who will be co-writing a novel with Janet Evanovich. Jeez, what ever happened to being happy for another person's good fortune? I do truly believe that there is enough success in the world for everyone, so why am I so impatient for mine to appear? It's my mom's fault. She claimed I was going to marry a prince when I grew up. Not figuratively. A real prince. As in Charles or Andrew. It didn't happen.

I think this disappointment has colored my entire life. And while I normally have a fabulous sense of humour, occasionally it slips away and other, less valuable, emotions show their ugly heads. Like envy, jealousy and the irrational belief that my husband was supposed to be a prince, damn it!

"You've got Mail" and Other Tales of Woe

2009-11-16T00:15:00.000-05:00

This story is a tad circuitous, you'll have to bear with me and keep reading and hopefully by the end of the blog the connections will be made and it will all make sense. As much sense as I can make when I'm writing after midnight because my legs are so jangly I can't possibly sleep.

I was perusing Jenny Crusie's site (www.JennyCrusie.com) as I'm apt to do. I enjoy her sense of humor and she has a way of writing that makes me feel like one of her friends. She's so intimate when she blogs that it feels like a conversation rather than communication with the entire world. Which is what it really is.

Anyway, (I did tell you this would be circuitous, didn't I?) Jenny has a section where she comments on mistakes in romance movies. One of the movies she comments on is Four Weddings and a Funeral - I'm not quoting here, this is just from memory - Jenny says the guy ends up with the wrong girl! So I'm thinking I've got to watch that movie again, because I can't figure out who the right girl could possibly be. Any ideas?

This got me thinking about You've Got Mail. When I first watched this movie I hated it. No way should Meg Ryan's character end up with the guy who puts her out of business. I was incensed and vowed never to watch that movie again. End of story.

Not quite.

Months later I'm pregnant with my fourth child who's due shortly and my blood pressure starts shooting up. Long story short I get put on a lovely drug with sulfide in it's name and labor is induced. I'm skipping the long, painful and fairly unsatisfactory night. Lizzie arrives and all is well, pretty much, but they want to keep an eye on us so we get to stay at the hospital for a couple of nights. My dear husband brings me movies to watch so I don't get bored. Three of the four movies are full of delightful scenes like where a man gets his eyeballs taped open and other horrid things happen. I stopped watching those movies after the first one. Yuck!

The other movie was You've Got Mail. Which I hate. But, given the choice between nothing and Meg vs. Tom, I take Meg and Tom. Lizzie and I watch that movie several times, which is okay because I'm still drugged and I keep passing out. Low and behold when I get home from the hospital what do I want to do? Watch You've Got Mail. Again and again and again. I become insanely fond of that movie - of course Meg and Tom should end up together, how else could it possibly end?

I'm sure a psychologist could explain to me why I ended up adoring that movie. I might even be able to explain it if I dug deep and pulled out some psychological terminology. But I think you get the point.

The question occurs: If Jenny Crusie had watched Four Weddings and a Funeral over and over again while bonding with her new baby, would that have changed her mind about which girl Hugh Grant should have ended up with?

Time Management - or my lack thereof

2009-11-12T10:09:00.000-05:00

First I have to say I love the word "thereof." Don't know why. Couldn't define it if you paid me. I know what it means though, and in this case it's referring to my lack of time management skills. Like now, I have several projects on my plate. The most important being Chapter six of California Schemin'. So far today I've opened the file and noted that I've written 677 words so far - but none today. I also have a beaded necklace to finish for my niece's birthday. That's not any less important - and probably more important to her. I want to mail it tomorrow so it's high on the priority list. I've already fixed the mock turtles costume for the high school's performance of "Alice in Wonderland."

I have seven songs to memorize for the chorus I belong to. We perform the first weekend in Dec. That's pretty high up there too. I have one song written on the white board so that's started. There's the scarf for my daughter that's nine tenths of the way finished. And then the hat that goes with it. The scarf I promised to a student doesn't have to be done until January so that's low on the list, but the presents for Christmas are starting to scream at me. I managed to send out my daily message about Kate George's Shameless Self Promotion Week on Facebook this morning, but there's at least one other thing hanging over my head but I can't remember it at the moment. It will jump out at me later and give me a heart attack with it's urgency. Oh and there is the eight hours I spend babysitting high schoolers in study hall every day.

My friends say I take too much on. That could be true. But I think my real problem is that I don't manage my time appropriately. Like this morning, I could have been working on any of the aforementioned tasks (that's another word I really like - aforementioned) but instead I was answering emails, reading blogs, sewing the turtle shell - I have to give myself some credit for getting something done - Oh and I talked to one of my sons' teachers about his overdue homework. He had the flu and I think that's a good enough excuse, and now so does she.

How do you prioritize when everything is Important? The writing should come first, don't you think? But what about promises made to children - those are really the top of the top of the list. Can I work on each thing for fifteen minutes? Would that work? I tried delegating the necklace to a talented student, but she has homework to do. So somehow I'm going to have to get it all done. Starting with the necklace I think, then the writing, God knows what I'm going to do about Christmas...

2009-11-10T12:29:00.000-05:00

The flu has arrived at the madhouse. It managed to sneak in one night while I was ferrying children to and from play practice. Ferrying takes a lot of time, mostly because I'm driving other people's children as well as my own. With no one standing diligently at the door, keeping the flu away, it was able to waltz in and pick its resting place with no opposition.

So the flu is here, does that mean I have to treat it like a guest? Probably. Flu thrives on adversity so if I pamper it perhaps it will die of… of what? What would the flu die from? Over feeding? Death from luxury? I guess if we knew that the dang, disease would be gone in hours.

*****

Look at all that yammering I did. Here's all I needed to say:

I'm exhausted from late nights driving kids home from play practice, and interrupted sleep from tending to a child with the flu.

That's it. One sentence. The rest of it is just extra garbage and I'm blaming the lack of sleep for it.

What makes YOU read a book? What's your reading style?

2009-10-30T11:35:00.000-04:00

It's the obvious question for a writer to ask: What influences your decision to read a book? The cover, the first page, the writer's reputation, your level of boredom? What is it? Perhaps the recommendation of a friend, or a book reviewer that you trust? Do you feel obligated to read a book if you know the writer personally?

The questions go on and on.

Here's an easier question: What do you like to have on hand when you sit down to read a book? A cup of tea? Cocoa? Coffee? A cookie? Fudge? Spaghetti?

Do you like to read outside or in? Do you avoid reading on sunny days in order to spend time outside? Do your dogs sit on your feet or in your lap when you read? How do you keep your kids from interrupting you, after all in their eyes you aren't doing anything at all!

Do you like to savor books slowly, or read them straight through, all at once? I'm a straight through reader, when left to my own devices I'll read straight through the night.

I want to hear from you. Write me a note. Tell me about your reading habits. Ask your friends to write me. With your permission I'll post your reading habits on my blog, website and facebook page. Reading is one of my favorite things to do, so why not write about it!

Sarah Simas Interview

2009-10-23T10:19:00.000-04:00

Check out http://Thelovestrucknovice.blogspot.com - Sarah Simas interviewed me for her blog. Leave a comment, and then go on to read more. Sarah's got some great interviews on her site.

Writing to Type

2009-10-15T14:18:00.000-04:00

Isn't the English language wonderful? I'm talking "Type" as in personality type, not type as in keyboarding.

A friend of mine recently reminded me that we have different personality types. What he said was something along the lines of "I'm and thinking person who happens to also feel, you (meaning me) are a feeling person who happens to think." True, but I was still insulted. There is nothing wrong with my thinking process thank you very much.

But here's the truth of the matter. My friend, who I'll call Mr. Spock, makes decisions based mostly on his thought process with very little regard to how he feels about something. Like the original Spock, he's ruled by logic. That doesn't mean his logic is always correct, nor does it mean his decisions always work out for him. But I think, all in all, he does pretty well.

I, on the other hand, make decisions based on how I feel about things. Sometimes it's just an intuitive thing. A hunch. Like when my husband and I (and kids) were camping on our friend's lawn while house hunting one summer I had a "feeling" that we were wearing out our welcome. My husband (another thinker) thought I was overreacting. Turns out I was right. (Good thing I'd insisted we move on.) There weren't any outward signs, and certainly our friends didn't say anything, but there signals of some kind and I picked up on them.

I have to say that my decisions don't always work out that well for me . Such as my current decision to work in the high school to supplement our income... Let's just say that the aggravation is not worth the money. I'm staying because my thinking husband doesn't agree with my assessment. For him, any extra money is better than no extra money. I'm sure he thinks I'll eventually adapt.

So what does this have to do with writing? Here's the deal. You can use your observation of personality types to help develop characters. There are lots of ways to analyze personality and many of them can be helpful when developing character, and for me - the feeler who thinks - often times my observation of how people act and what motivates them, works very well in conjunction with the charts.

If I remember correctly I'm currently an ENFJ - although I was born a INFP. I trained myself to act like an extrovert in my mid-twenties and eventually it became ingrained. I actually AM an E now. And I can expect other ENFJs to behave in similar ways to the ways I behave. But here's the good part, I remember what it's like to be shy. I was a card carrying, hide your head in your momma's skirt, so timid it was painful, avoid all social situations and God forbid a boy talks to you, introvert. As painful as it is to remember those days it comes in very handy when I'm in the midst of character development.

So what if you're an E (for extrovert, in case I haven't made that clear), you've never been an I and you've got a character who does a great impersonation of a turtle? Use your imagination. How do the shy people in your community act? See that surly guy at the elementary school open house? You stay away from him because most of his sentences consist of curt one word answers, and you're sure he thinks you're an idiot. Here's a news flash. He's an I for Introvert. He's surly because he feels so out of place that his teeth ache. He's been ready to leave since he got there, and he's gaging how long he has to stay so that he doesn't seem rude. He's wishing one of his buddies had a child in the same grade as his.

Here's another tidbit about that guy; his wife is an E. A warm and friendly smiler, who knows everyone in the room and wants to talk to everybody. The entire town wonders why in the world she married surly guy. What they don't realize is that when he's with her he can relax. She puts him at ease. Knows what he's thinking so he doesn't have to talk a lot. She sees the qualities in him that only his close friends know about because in public situations he's too shy to be himself.

See how easy that was. Two quick character sketches in less than five minutes. You have my permission to use either one, or both.

How about T (Thinker) vs F (Feeler)? I can tell you that my Thinking friend takes a long time to respond to serious questions. He can answer "what do you want for lunch?" quick as anything. But ask him if you should change jobs and it could be days before he gets back to you. When he does answer, it's with a well reasoned, point by point presentation on the pros and cons of the situation. Sometimes he takes so long thinking about something, I think he's forgotten about it. But he hasn't. Spock just wants to look at the situation from all sides before commenting.

How do I deal with the issue of a friend wondering if they should change jobs? I ask questions, now hold your breath because this is a revelation; I ask questions about my friend's feelings. And within about three minutes I've already formed my opinion based on those feelings. I'm not saying I never change my mind faced with further facts, but most of my major decisions are made that quickly.

Before you call your mother and tell her I'm a idiot, let me say this: my feelings about things are based on observation over time. So although it may seem like I'm making snap decisions, in reality I have a lifetime of experience with how feeling translates in the real world. Does your boss make you miserable? Yes. Is your boss likely to change? No. Do I believe that we should spend our short lives working for people who make us miserable? No. There's your answer, find another job. (Oh, and in case you're running off to tell your mother I'm an complete imbecile, I do realize that finding a job in the current climate is not easy, and it may take a while. But I still think you should be looking.)

Looking at the above scenario I can already see a number of story lines developing. One heck of a romantic suspense about a thinking cop who takes her time making decisions, that tend to be correct. This cop becomes embroiled with a feeling private eye, who makes snap decisions that get them both in trouble. They drive each other crazy until the bitter end when they succumb to their mutual attraction while caught in a certain death situation. You fill in the details.

And let me know when it's published, I want to read it.

Oh the pressure.

2009-10-15T09:44:00.000-04:00

Why is it that given the opportunity to get some publicity and spread my name around by guest blogging, I can't think of a darn thing to say? I started writing about voice, and what it is about other author's that makes me keep picking up their books. Boring! Boring, boring, boring.

Not even I want to read that post. Heck, I didn't even want to write it. It put me right into doze mode.

This is how bad it is - I had to stop in the middle of this blog and get myself a cup of tea.

Surely there is something interesting to be said about writing. Something that hasn't been said a million and one times before? If you know what it is tell me, because obviously I can't figure out what it is.

On a more humorous note, some of you may know that I'm impersonating an educator at a high school this year, overseeing the study hall. This position has it's ups and downs. One really big up is that when everyone is on task it's permissible for me to work on my writing. Such as now. The down side is there are a couple of hours during the day when the immaturity of the students makes it insufferable in here. - Why is it that certain teenage boys think it's acceptable to fashion shivs out of paper clips and use stick pins to impale people? - But onto the fun part...

A little while ago a group of the nicer seniors came to see me. I don't know, seven or eight of them. (Realize that we have a tiny school the entire graduation class is only maybe 40 kids.) Each of these seniors came to me with an add/drop slip. On this slip they each requested to add my 2nd period class and drop the advanced math class they were enrolled in. These eight kids comprise maybe ninety percent of that math class. The reason for the switch: Can't understand the teacher.

It might be helpful for you to know that the math teacher is well liked and has played a practical joke or two of his own. I've yet to hear what he has to say about the matter. Actually, I can't wait, I'm sure he'll rise to the occasion. But what makes me smile the most is the fact that the seniors included me.

It's not just students that want to fit in. I'm in the unique position of being neither a teacher or a typical aid. I don't really have a peer group here, and my schedule is such - booked solid except for a twenty minute lunch break each day - that I have very little contact with adults. Being included by a group of students was a break from the isolation, and that it was for a joke makes it even better.

The Cold Kentucky Rain

2009-10-07T08:57:00.000-04:00

Don't ask me why Elvis is in my head this morning. I woke up with Cold Kentucky Rain playing on my internal music channel (the one in my brain). I'd be surprised if it was a song from the DH's wake up FM channel - it's not his style. But however it got there - it's sticking. I even started singing it in the classroom.

Doesn't even phase my students. I don't think anything that came out of my mouth would surprise them, either because they are already so world weary that nothing startles them, or because they expect me to be a little nutty. I don't mind if they think I'm nutty, I do, however, hope they grow out of their boredom with life.

What is it about high school, and high school-ers, that inspires such apathy? Well, come to think of it, if I was stuck in close proximity to my age group all day, every day I might get tired of it too. Not that there aren't people I'd be delighted to associate with on a daily basis. But I'd want to chose and my choices wouldn't be based on age. So perhaps they just need to suffer through and hopefully learn to deal with people in a constructive way.

As for me, I'll model cheerfulness for today and continue driving teens crazy by singing at work. It's not fair really, as I can always write the irritants of my life into a novel and despense justice in that way. It gives me an advantage.

Pumping Up the Volume

2009-10-03T14:12:00.000-04:00

Thank the universe for rainy Saturdays! I'm another five pages into California Schemin'. It's time for me to really start producing. And I mean a lot more than I have been. It should be possible. I've settled into my current job at the high school. School is now routine for my kids. Our foreign exchange student has become one of the family. Life is rolling along so it's time to write.

I've learned that it's possible to write when the kids and husband are home if I slap on the headphones and then ignore the music as much as possible. It's a lot easier to ignore the music than my family. Now if I could only get them to ignore me.

My publisher recently announced a deadline of November 15 for submissions. I'm not positive that means I need to have the next Bree done by then but there's the niggling thought in the back of my head that says I can be replaced. I mean anyone can be replaced, right? A better writer could certainly come along!

With that in mind I've set a goal to have a finished draft done by that date. I've been working on two books at once, so the new goal means I have to choose between them. I've had a lot of requests for more of Bree, so that's where I'm going to focus. And if I can get California Schemin' done by December then I should be able to finish Tank and Maggie Meet the Mob by February. Two books a year being my business plan.

If I'm lucky enough to get either of those published you can bet your booties I'll get smarter about writing during the down time between acceptance and release date! No more wasting time. (Yeah, right!)

Playing on the ipod? Before He Cheats - Carrie Underwood.

I've been Launched!

2009-08-31T21:53:00.001-04:00

Just got home from my first book launch ever! I need to offer a huge thanks to Rhonda and Sara at the Royalton Memorial Library for hosting me. They did a fabulous job setting up and providing refreshments. A good time was had by all - especially me. The place was packed!

I read from three separate passages in Moonlighting in Vermont. There was laughter in all the right places and I felt comfortable and well liked. Who can ask for more than that?

Not me certainly.

I'd be beyond lucky if all my signings went this well. I'll go to bed feeling pleased with myself this evening, and blessed beyond belief with wonderful friends.

Conservatism vs. Liberalism

2009-08-23T20:30:00.000-04:00

Wondering where I've been? Me too! Time is a fickle mistress and all that.

Recently, I've been having a conversation with a friend who is the polar opposite of me politically. I don't like mixing politics with friendship. I discovered that the politics of people I like can fall very far from where I stand. I tend to believe that my friends (and relations) want what they think is best for the world in general. They are generous people, smart, funny, loyal - everything that friends should be. So I ignore the fact they would think I'm out of my political mind if they knew. And perhaps they do know, I am pretty transparent after all, and I assume they feel the same way as I do. It's not necessary to share political ideals to like a person.

Don't get me wrong, I also have friends who are on the same political wavelength as myself. I'm glad to have those friends and relations stand beside me. They help me to remember I'm not that far out there. That I'm not alone in my beliefs. It's sort of like religion, it's okay not to be in the majority as long as there are a few folk around to confirm I'm not out of my ever-loving mind!

So how did I get involved in a conversation on political leaning? I've been asking myself that same question. I think I fell for the old you're-not-as-far-out-there-as-you-claim gambit. So I had to set about proving that I am. And really that wouldn't be so bad if I was good at stating my point. But I'm not. I get caught up in the "I'm being attacked" mindset. I make the mistake of taking it personally. Basically, I'm easy prey.

The same friend I got into this conversation with has classified me as a feeling person who happens to think. He classifies himself as a thinking person who happens to feel. Perhaps he's right. I believe things because I "feel" that they are right. I haven't thought out the logic - although other thinkers who have the same leanings as I do have logical reasons for what we believe. I could do the research, and have done in the past, but not to arm myself for a conversation with a friend.

I've never considered it necessary to load up on amo before accepting a friendly invitation to debate. And perhaps that's my problem. Any high school debate team member would tell you that you can't win if you don't know both sides inside out. You have to be able to argue your opponent's side even better than they can. But not me. I walked into an Obama vs. McCain without a moments thought.

And what horrible thing happened? Nothing much. My friend may now realize I'm as out there as I claim. He has no reason to re-evaluate his own stance, because I couldn't give him any logical reason to do so. And it's doubtful any re-evaluating would have happened anyway. So no harm no foul. Right?

So why am I left feeling so… what? Misunderstood? Frustrated at my inability to communicate that which I believe deeply in? Yes, both of those. And more. I'm left with an uneasy feeling that I've done something wrong. Should I apologize to my friend? For what? Disagreeing with him politically? That's where we started. For taking our "conversation" personally? Surely he knows me well enough to know that I would take it personally. For letting him talk me into a debate that I was unprepared for?

So this is why I don't talk politics with my friends. When all is said and done, I'm ill equipped for the consequences. I'm left feeling uneasy and not really knowing where our friendship stands.

What I've learned about me

2009-07-20T16:11:00.000-04:00

So here's the deal. This is stuff that should have been very apparent to me years ago. After all, how old am I? But sometimes I just have to get to the "quit fighting yourself" stage and just give in. So what do I know?

I write better in the early morning and late at night. Or at least when the house is quiet.
I can't write at all if the kids are within ear shot. They are just too dog gone distracting.
That means summer is very hard for me.
I can work on publicity stuff when the kids are around, but I have to be very careful or I'll write emails full of nonsense, like "Mom! Mackinley just got water all over the floor!"
I write more quickly when I have a clear idea what I want to accomplish in a scene, but that doesn't mean the scene will come out better than if I don't know.
I'm easily distracted by the Internet.
I love talking (email) to people even if I don't know them.
I'm useless in the mid-afternoon so I might as well stop beating myself up about the "research" I do before I have to make dinner. Especially the research I do with my eyes closed.
While having a sound track helps me get back into the mood of a wip, leaving it on while I'm writing is a mistake. What kind of mistake, you ask? Somehow readers don't really "get" why lyrics pop into the middle of a paragraph.
I use too many exclamation points!!!
Reading a novel that's too removed from what I write while I'm writing messes up my voice.

What all of this means is I'm going to have to work from midnight to 5 am, sleep from 5 to 8 (AM) struggle through my day taking the kids to swimming and what not and then sleep from 9 pm to midnight.

Something else I've learned about myself: that schedule is never gonna work for me.

Shameless Self Promotion

2009-07-17T13:22:00.000-04:00

I won! I won! I won! I won! I won! (tee hee). I found out today that Moonlighting in Vermont, my first publishable novel, won first place in it's category in the 2009 Daphne du Maurier Award For Excellence in Mystery/Suspense - unpublished. The category being mainstream. I've entered a fair number of contests and never even finaled (except the synopsis contest in which I got third place), and here I am the top of my category. It's given me a rather large head.

Well not really. It's a humbling experience in some ways. And a testament to believing in your own voice, and your own better judgement. The big thing though, is getting with other writers through critic groups and workshops and listening to what others have to say. Sometimes others people can be off base, but by listening and noticing when more than one person is saying the same thing, you can weed the good from the bad and improve your writing tremendously.

So thank you to Joni B. Cole, who leads an awesome workshop and whose books I really enjoy, and to Alison, Meg, Jen, Terri and Anne the original inky 500 who kept me afloat through the whole process. There are a bunch of other writers I owe thanks to, folks from Joni's workshops and those famous names that I love to read. I hope you know who you are, if not watch for your name in the future I hope I can get to you all someday.

Starting Small

2009-07-15T11:12:00.001-04:00

Sometimes success takes an act of faith - jumping on the wagon as it goes by.

The chance I took was signing a contract with a small and newish publisher. Of course the publisher took a chance on me too. A mutual leap of faith. Without that leap I would likely be back at square one. Unpublished.

I was worried that I might be missing out on publicity opportunities that a bigger outfit might offer me, but after talking to a fellow writer I've discovered that even larger publishing houses don't push for unknown authors. So not only do I get more personal attention and get more of a chance. I've get more time to get decent sales.

I'm happy where I'm at. It's a good place to be.

2009-07-10T08:13:00.000-04:00

Recently I was looking at my tag line wondering what do I really know about the craft of writing. Not much really. I must know something, because MMP is publishing Moonlighting in Vermont. But most of what I know is not in the forefront of my mind. It's more of a feeling, a sense of what sounds right. It's about how my body responds to the words on the page. Don't get me wrong, I learned all the usual stuff about structure and grammar in college, it's just that I'm not thinking about that when I write.

What I think about when I write is does it sound right to me. Does it flow. How does it make me feel? Does it make me laugh or cry. Does it make me cringe, my jaw ache, my stomach drop? That's how my body reacts when I don't like the way the words are put together. When I like what I'm reading I get lost in the story and forget to edit. Writing is more about storytelling than structure. Oh I know that structure is important, I'm not disputing that, it's just that structure doesn't really occur to me.

I'm going to contradict myself now. Sound, flow and physical reaction don't really come into play during the first draft at all. During the first draft I have pictures in my head. I'm watching what's happening and recording all the details I can before the scene moves on. During the rush of discovery it's all about getting what I "see" down on paper. (Well electronic paper, but you know what I mean.) The other stuff becomes important the second time around when the story is already in place. It's when I'm editing that the feel of the words becomes important to me.

So what does that have to do with the craft of writing? I don't know. And I'm thinking I may have to change my tag line.

July, Already?

2009-07-02T08:20:00.000-04:00

I woke up today and it's July 2nd! When did that happen? Summer should be a time to relax and unwind, hopefully get the weeds out of the garden, but my summer somehow gets out of control before school's even out.

My kids' dad likes to make sure the kids don't get bored, but that means I spend the summer as an unpaid taxi driver traveling Vermont taking unwilling children to camps, activities - oh you name it, we do it. Meanwhile, the writing doesn't get done, the house doesn't get painted, and the housekeeper (me) doesn't do her job.

I wanted to say and Suddenly it was July 2nd - but my friend Joni B., who teaches writing skills, says that's a no-no. No more ly words for me. Except for this strange desire to write the sentence -

And who knows what I had a strange desire to write because as of today it's July 9 or 10, or something. That's how fast time goes for me. I wish I had the same ability to slow it down. The only thing I can say for myself is I've made some progress on my books. Yes plural. Right in the middle of writing Tank and Maggie meet the Mob I got this strange compulsion to start another Bree MacGowan story. Yikes. Now I'm left with trying to keep my characters out of each other's stories. Good luck.

Happy Summer all.

Line Edits - done!

2009-06-10T11:09:00.000-04:00

I pleased to say that line edits on Moonlighting are done. Yippee! Now I can go back to simultaneously writing a sequel to Moonlighting that I'm currently calling California Scheming, and another Vermont mystery called Tank and Maggie Meet the Mob. The advantage to writing two at once is if I get stuck or bored with one, I simply switch to the other.

The down side is it's hard to keep the characters straight. Sometimes they get into each other's story. That's not too bad, as they are both set in the same town and it wouldn't be too unusual for them to cross over - as long as I can keep the story lines straight!

Update on the Skunk

2009-06-10T10:59:00.000-04:00

For those of you who were worrying about the skunk, I'm relieved to tell you that we didn't catch him. I'm assuming if he was rabid that he went and died somewhere peacefully, if you can die peacefully with rabies. The same is probably true if he had distemper. Either way, he's either alive and has decided to leave us alone or is off in skunk heaven, and I didn't have to do the dirty deed myself.

What we did catch was a very angry grey cat. When I opened the cage she took off like a shot and will probably never grace our lawn with her presence again. Sorry kitty.

Skunk 4, Kate 0 - The Skunk is Winning

2009-06-03T15:29:00.001-04:00

Yes, you read that right. The skunk is smarter than I am. This will be the fourth day in a row that I will have to wash the skunk smell out of my dogs. The dogs are even dumber than I am.

The first time the dogs warned us - but it was too late, the skunk got them anyway. And then it came up onto our porch and taunted the dogs, trying to pull the bed out from under Annie and out between the bars of her crate. It didn't succeed. So, in revenge, it sprayed poor Midnight through the door of her kennel. It came back four times, regardless of the bright lights, barking dogs and door banging humans. A neighbor came and tried to kill the skunk with a 22. No luck. Skunk 1, Human 0.

The next day I cleaned up the dogs, the porch and the dog crates. Such fun. I left to pick up children and take them to ball practice, and when I got home (in daylight) Moose was in the brier patch next to our garage with the skunk in his mouth. That didn't last long. The dogs chased the skunk into the woods and the neighbor appeared again, but couldn't catch up with the skunk who rushed across the road and up a steep wooded slope. Skunk 2, Human 0.

Now before people start writing me about cruelty to animals let me say I'm usually against killing creatures just because they are inconvenient. I'm inconvenient myself sometimes. But this skunk was acting a tad strangely and Rabies did occur to us. A rabid animal will die anyway and is a danger to us all.

However, as our friend wasn't having any luck killing the skunk we put out a trap. The dogs smell like skunk again, but he's nowhere to be found. Certainly not in the trap. Skunk 3, human 0.

I was hoping like anything that when I got home today I wouldn't have to wash the dogs, AGAIN! Ha! Got home, no skunk in trap Dogs smell to high heaven.

We caught the neighbors grey cat in the have-a-heart trap.

The skunk wins.

I've changed my blogger address

2009-05-28T11:33:00.000-04:00

For those who look for my blogs - I have a new address. One that makes more sense, I hope!

www.kategeorgewrites.blogspot.com

is were you'll find me now!

The Rain in Spain is completely overrated!

2009-05-28T10:54:00.000-04:00

Confession: I didn't want it to rain today. Correction: I wanted it to be sunny in the morning so I wouldn't have to go off to work - the school I'm subbing for was going to have a river day if it was sunny, and they wouldn't need me. I did want it to rain this afternoon and free me from Mom duty. I don't mind so much when it's one thing at a time, but today it's the softball, baseball, track combination that makes my head hurt.

I want to be there for all my kids, I really do. But will someone please explain to me why they schedule all these games right at dinner time? By the time we all get home we are a mass of cranky, hungry, emotional messes. And then I have to figure out what to feed them. Quickly. Before they chew my arm off.

Well, it's raining. So likely my arm will be spared and I'll get the kids fed and some housework done. But my writing will suffer. Because I'm busy being super sub. (Not really, but it sounds good. And if I put my mind to it, I could probably write a few pages in the down time, or when kids are watching movies. If only I wasn't so easily distracted by the fun stuff.)

New Logo

2009-05-26T08:48:00.000-04:00

This is my new logo. Let me know what you think! I'm working on improving my web site www.kategeorge.com. If you have suggestions feel free to send them along.

Balancing life in the fast lane

2009-05-26T08:38:00.000-04:00

This week I'm taking care of my neighbor (and friend's) children. You may know that I have 4 of my own, add the three neighbor kids - well you can figure it out. It's a lot of kids. The good part is that the new kids are better behaved than the old kids - and their house (which their mom claims is dirty) is spotlessly clean. Unlike my house, which is not spotlessly clean. By any stretch of the imagination.

Needless to say, I've been spending my time in the clean house. Which is new, not 200 years old, like my house is. 200 years old I mean. Not new.

My house is full of my junk, my kid's junk and my husband's junk. Only my kids and husband would say it's not junk - except for mine. We all agree that mine is junk, even me.

It's hard to write when the house is junky. It's tempting to start throwing things away. I probably should be throwing things away. But the only way to get books written is to sit and write. So the junk will have to wait. And just so I'm not tempted to deal with junk, I think I'll go write in the clean, new house that is neighborless for the time being.

Happy Birthday - Bob Dylan

2009-05-24T09:26:00.000-04:00

It's Bob Dylan's birthday today. I know this because it's also mine. Happy Birthday to me! No, I'm not going to tell you how old I am. Just think 20 years younger than I look. That would do for me.

It's a work in the garden day. My informally adopted oldest daughter is cleaning my car. My by-birth oldest daughter is still in bed. Older twin is helping cook dinner, younger twin is reading a good book, youngest daughter is doing something secret in her room.

I'm having a baked pancake for breakfast - with fruit. The rest are having chocolate chip pancakes made on the griddle. And bacon. I can smell it. Yum.

After breakfast I'm putting in tomatoes and peppers. Then I'll start the huge job of weeding the flower gardens. Mulching so those dang weeds don't come back. Then I'm building a trellis for the raspberries.

After that, collapsing from exhaustion is on the list.

Happy Birthday Bob.

The First Cover with segway into a tirade on words

2009-05-23T11:07:00.001-04:00

So this is it! Moonlighting in Vermont's cover art.

I know my last blog was incredibly sulky. I apologize. I've gotten to the point I need to pinch myself. Against the odds, my book is being published. I'm oh so lucky.

Don't get me wrong, I like the stories I tell. I enjoy writing, and hope with judicious editing they will be written well enough that the words don't distract from the story.

Stories are all about words. Words that create the images we see in our minds when we read. But a poor choice of a word can impair our enjoyment of the story. A word, sentence, image, fact (correct or not), can pull the reader completely out of a story. And sometimes, they never go back.

So, for a storyteller, words are the double edged sword. (Clique, I know. But I promised myself that my blog didn't have to be perfect. Write more, worry about it less is my new motto.)

Anyway, you can't have a story without words or images - if it's a visual like a slide show or movie it could be without words - but put in the wrong one, make a false step, and boom, story's over. That's a great deal of pressure. I'm happy to say that it doesn't usually stop me from writing. It does slow down the process of editing though. My vocabulary isn't always up to the task of finding the perfect word, search though I might.

The Down Side to the Up Side

2009-04-16T10:58:00.000-04:00

Let me first say that this blog is going to seem incredibly ungrateful. I know it. I can't help it. It's the way my mind works. I just can't take good news and keep it good. Well at least when it's about me. I'm actually very good at keeping my friends' and relations' good news good.

Is that sentence confusing enough for you?

So here's the good news. I've been offered a contract to publish my first Novel! That is fabulous, exciting, happy dance news. I danced all over the place and called every one I could think of when I found out. Then I emailed, Facebooked, updated my website and now I'm writing about it. It's fabulously validating and after a year of rejections - totally unexpected. I was hoping, but not expecting when I sent in my manuscript.

So this is what my brain did with my achievement - turned it into a non-event. Why, because I'm not going to see any money for probably a year. Small publisher - no advance. Don't blame them. Didn't expect an advance. But my crazy brain then said, well what good is it to publish if you aren't going to be a financial boon to your family. And that made me unhappy, grumpy and hard to live with. For a few hours.

Until I figured it out. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Here I'd just been offered a contract, and boom, I'm feeling blue. Stupid, huh? So I started thinking about what I was thinking. What was I telling myself? Only money makes it a worthwhile accomplishment. Even I know that's not right. I wrote a novel! A whole complete novel! (and started a second). That in itself is enough to feel good about. And now it's going to be published. Do you know how lucky I am. So many writers never get published. Or their 7th, 8th, 9th novel finally gets them in the door.

Now I have to admit Moonlighting isn't my first novel. I wrote a very bad novella when I was in my 20s. I cringe when I think of it now. But that's OK. Experience helps writing dramatically, and I have lots of that.

OK - so what? What is now that I've figured out how my brain works, I'm not going to let it burst my bubble. I done good. I deserve the happy dance.

Passion

2009-04-07T15:56:00.000-04:00

I saw August Rush this weekend. I'd never heard of it. Didn't have a clue. I fell in love. With the movie, with the actors, with the story. With the idea of listening to what the world is telling you, of following your heart - doing what it is you are meant to be doing. Not quitting on your music, writing, painting, passion - what ever it is.

Jonathon Rhys Meyers performed his role as a singer with such passion. He sang the songs for the movie, it wasn't dubbed with someone else's voice. The energy he channeled into the music was awesome and awe inspiring. If I had that much passion in any area of my life I would count myself as blessed and cursed all at once.

I know it was a movie and very few people actually channel that kind of energy in their real life. But we should.

I've added the soundtrack from August Rush to my play list for my current novel. It's the music I listen to when I'm writing to put me back into the story. If you listen to the same music over and over while you write you eventually get to the place where when you hear the music your brain immediately jumps into your story. Or whatever else it is that you are writing, painting - you get the idea. It's helpful to have a play list to get the story flowing again.

Usually, I choose songs for my play list that have some relationship to the story. Songs that tell the stories of the people in the book. This time I added the August Rush soundtrack willy nilly. What it's reminding me of is the passion of August's story - the passion I want to pass on in mine. Let's hope it works.

The Feel of Spring

2009-03-27T11:57:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I've written. Between work, yuck, and my husband's reluctance for me to blog about the details of our life I've been short on subjects. Today I'm feeling sorry for myself because everyone else's blog seems so much more interesting than mine.

It's hard to feel sorry for yourself when the day is as beautiful as it is today. I could actually smell the earth warming when I walked at lunch today. A walk which made me late back to work. Luckily life went on without me and all is well.

But now I'm having to work really hard to keep the self pity going. Because on a day like today, who really cares that everyone else is a better writer with more interesting things to say than me!

Stop fooling around on the computer and go for a walk!

Fire

2009-02-24T09:31:00.000-05:00

Last night Gloria's house burned to the ground. A teenage daughter sustained minor burns and smoke inhalation trying to rescue her pets. She spent the night in the hospital and is being released today. She saved one puppy out of 4 dogs and two cats. No one else was injured - Dad, Mom, two brothers. One of the brothers is an adult, the other is in my sons' class in school.

Everyone I've seen today is ashen faced and tearful. Faces are tired, some from staying up all night helping, some from staying up all night worrying. Plans are being formed for donations of food and clothing. We talk of where the family can live. The movers and shakers are doing their things.

Fire is our worst fear. Most of us heat our homes at least partially with wood. A fact that is not likely to change with the cost of propane, electricity and heating oil. Emotionally, we are hard hit. It could have been any one of us.

Houses burn down here every winter, many homes are old farmhouses made of wood, but this is the first that has been so close to home. Someone we know - a family in our school. A friend of my sons.

The school will pitch in, the town as well. We area tight community. What the red cross doesn't supply the rest of us will. Eventually, they'll rebuild. But for today, we are all in shock, fear and tears mirrored in each others faces as we share the tragedy.

Fixing Fences

2009-02-22T15:32:00.000-05:00

I spent Valentines day digging through the snow, looking for the break in my radio dog fence. I was pretty resentful about it. Somehow I've got in my head that fences are for husbands to fix - like the trash is his to take out! I'm not sure why I think that - I've always been in charge of the fences. Horse fences & dog fences in all kinds of weather.

So why didn't I just refuse to do it? Let someone else fix it? I was thinking about that the other day, as I was driving down the freeway. It got me to thinking about how the work got done on the ranch when I was growing up. Here's the thing: I have NO memories of my dad doing the manual labor. I have a few pictures of him with a shovel in his hand, but no actual memories.

My memories are of my mom. Irrigating ditches, fixing fences, rounding up cattle, helping cows calve. I used to follow her around while she did these things. I'm willing to guess that she was pretty resentful about doing all that stuff. Mom was an intellectual, she loved opera. She knew everything.

I don't think there was much opera available in the town near where we lived. Certainly not many fabulous intellects to have conversations with.

So what does this have to do with me fixing fences on Valentines day? Everything. I'm following my Mother's example. If something needed doing, she did it. Like it or not. So when the fence is broken and the husband says "they're your dogs," I go out and start digging.

It's who I am.

Is it Spring? Sadly, no.

2009-02-11T16:27:00.000-05:00

We had the most beautiful sunrise this morning. Vivid pink. The best part was when I went out to get the car. The thermometer said 32 but it felt much warmer. It was light and there was a bird singing. I don't know what kind of bird - it sang tweet-chirp, tweet-chirp.

If felt like Spring. But we don't really get spring here. And certainly not in February! But it's nice to dream.

A message from Zoe.

2009-02-06T16:23:00.001-05:00

This is Zoe speaking. There are supposed to be two dots over the e in my name, but I don't know how to put them there.

I thought I should let you know that my mom doesn't have time to write any brilliant missives today. She's doing the taxes. I know this because you can hear her sigh in the next county.

She asked me if dog food was deductible. I thought maybe if she claimed me as a guard dog for her computer that it could be a business expense. She said she didn't think the IRS would buy that.

Dogs rule.

Winter Sunrise - Santa Cruz

2009-02-06T16:12:00.000-05:00

Sunrise in Santa Cruz, California. January 30, 2009 - 6 am? Such a huge contrast to the sunrise photos I took earlier that month and posted below. Notice the absence of snow!

Moonlight and Snow

2009-02-05T12:15:00.000-05:00

Maybe you've heard this before. Moonlight on snow is magical. My daughter and I were leaving her piano lesson last evening after dark. The moon illuminated the snow blanketing the crook of a maple behind the spot our car was parked.

I don't have the vocabulary to describe it so you can see it. The sky behind was dark but lighter than the branches of the tree. The snow was glowing blue, lighter than both the sky and the tree.

How can I not believe in magic when there are such sights to be seen. It's compensation for the reading on the outdoor thermometer. It just hit 10 degrees.

Winter Sunrise

2009-01-28T21:44:00.001-05:00

Well I think they are going to post out of order but you get the idea!

Winter Photo Montage

2009-01-28T08:22:00.001-05:00

In case you are wondering, this is the road I live on.

Too Much Information

2009-01-26T21:02:00.000-05:00

Conventional wisdom. OK Stop. What in the world is conventional wisdom? The truth is I read somewhere I should read publishing trade news and keep abreast of the happenings in the publishing world. Let me tell you - publishing news is enough to make the staunchest would-be author throw the keyboard in the trash. Or throw-up. One or the other.

Publishing houses are laying employees off by the dozens. The news is doom and gloom. Books are obsolete, digital publishing will abolish writing for pay. Eighty percent of the query letters I send out get no reply at all. Not even a rejection form.

Then the kicker - Times is running a story about an author who got fed up and self published. In case you haven't heard, self-publishing is supposed to be a career killer. That's the scuttlebutt. But here's this self-published author who's been offered a better-than-half-a-mill deal by a major publishing house. Wait-a-minute, shouldn't she be hearing the death knell of her writing career? What the heck is going on?

They could have easily split that deal between five of us and we all would have been thrilled!

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for that author - and I'll read her book when it comes out. But all this conflicting news is too much. Should I be excited that great deals are still floating around out there, or despondent because the publishing houses are failing? And how to I concentrate on writing when a little voice in the back of my head is telling me I'm wasting my time?

I wish I'd just stuck my head in the sand but it's too late now. I know too much.

The Shadow List

2009-01-21T11:05:00.000-05:00

First of all, let me say that I stole this list from Jennifer Crusie at www.arghink.com. Thank you Jenny - and forgive me.

The idea behind the shadow list is that the stuff we hide defines us as much as the stuff we let everyone see. Example - everyone in this town knows that a group of us gather on Thursday mornings in the local cafe and I'm the loud one. Everyone knows I love dogs and I'm addicted to ice cream. Those are things I'm perfectly comfortable sharing with everyone.

Shadow lists are the secret addictions. The things I watch on TV or music I listen to that I don't want anyone to know about. The stuff that's hidden under the bed. So here goes, my top ten list of things I don't want anyone to know: (To tell the truth it's going to be hard to think of ten things because my life is pretty much an open book!)

1. I listen to country music when I'm alone. I love Trace Adkins' voice and I'd marry Tim McGraw if we both weren't, already. OK, here's the big one. I love some of Toby Keith's songs. And yes I'm liberal and anti-war. (See even here I have to justify myself.)

2. The new version of Battlestar Galatica. And Klondike bars. If I buy a carton of klondike bars and don't remind myself that only one is mine - I can eat them all in a day. Same with most kinds of chocolate. (I know Battlestar is a tv show and Klondike bars are ice cream. Don't know why I put them together, except that eating ice cream while watching tv is the best!)

3. If I could, I'd eat graham crackers soaked in milk whenever I needed comfort food.

4. I hate to exercise. I do it almost every day, but only because I have to. I have to promise myself outrageous stuff in order to get motivated. I really hate to sweat.

5. If I could get away with it I'd feed my kids whatever is fast and easy without concern for health. OK - I'd be concerned about health. But if mac and cheese was healthy and they wanted it every night. I'd let 'em have it. Of course my husband would divorce me…

6. What I want more than anything else in the world is to be Janet Evanovich, creator of Stephanie Plum and best selling author.

7. I'm horrible with money. My mom did her best to teach me right but I think that gene is missing. Or maybe I just can't focus. I'm dismal at making financial decisions.

8. If I lived alone I'd let my dogs sleep on the bed.

9. If I wasn't married I'd have even MORE dogs than I have now. Of course if I wasn't married I wouldn't be able to afford the dogs I do have because I'm so useless with money!

10. I was going to put I'd die to have Meg Ruley as a literary agent. But I actually think that shows good taste, not bad. Meg rocks. Not only does she handle some really big best sellers, when she meets people like me she's friendly and gracious. She has a knack for making a person feel welcome and a great sense of humor. If she lived in my town she'd fit right in with my friends. So now I'd better get to work improving my writing so I have a shot at getting any agent at all!

So #10a. I'm not content with what I have. I want a huge great room and a new kitchen (If you've seen my kitchen you understand this!) and a office and craft room. And more closets and more money and… (I'm worse than my kids at Christmas.)

What's on your shadow list?