Time Flies

The Winners!

2011-12-29T08:20:00.000-08:00

First I want to thank Erica and Eliza for the wonderful Thirteen Days of Doctor Who blog tour, especially for including me. What a magnificent way to stave off our hunger prior to the Christmas Special. I had fun, learned a lot, gained some insight and hope all of you did too.

Now, on to the prize winners. The grand prize was won by Mrs. S for her comment on Phoebe North's blog. You can check in on Erica's blog to see the details.

The winner of the red TARDIS rucksack from Bagnabit is ReneeRearden. Congratulations Renee!!! I'll send an email to get your details so that I can mail your prize out to you.

Thanks again for visiting. Happy Thursday!

Thirteen Days of Doctor Who: Neil Gaiman and the Allegory of the TARDIS

2011-12-23T01:30:00.000-08:00

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Ever wonder why are ships referred to in feminine terms? Me too! So, first I broke out the Google Fu and found that perhapsup until the Sixteenth Century, ships and sailing vessels were referred to inmasculine terms. Really? Makessense I suppose because it’s easy to imagine Vikings naming theirlongboats after Odin or Thor instead of Freyja or Nanna and the Greeks andRomans might have paid homage to the gods instead of the goddesses as well. Even the brilliant research librarianat my local branch was stumped about the change. Though, I’m sure that next time I’m there, she’ll beckon me overwith a stack of books on this very subject. My opinion? Sailors are known to be both superstitious and a little bitcrazy, which endears them to me over all the other branches of the military. Discipline and logic can only take youso far until a healthy dose of nutty makes them irresistible, decked out inthose tight pants. For example, a naked woman onboard a ship is considered good luck but a clothed one—not so much. As a matter of fact, most femalepassengers who didn’t hold the title of the captain’s wife, ran the risk ofbeing thrown overboard to appeaseangry gods and rough seas. Talk about a crash course in swimming lessons. Supposedly,a bare-chested woman (even a figurehead of one carved into the mast) possessedthe power to tame the waves.
Right. Sure she did. Rememberthat sentence about superstitious and crazy? Okay, there’s your proof. Buthaving a lone female on a ship full of men surely would’ve been distracting andperhaps deadly for all concerned. You need focus to keep everything in good working order and any male/female ratio where the male number is greater than two can only lead to eventual disaster and ruination.

I much prefer the part of my search that says thatsailors referred to their vessels in feminine terms because they needed loveand comfort in addition to fortitude. Men are certainly capable of providing those emotions to other men. They offer it everyday as fathers, sons, brothers, friends and lovers. But usually that’s the job of women, andtradition dictates the attraction of opposites. With sea travel being such a long and arduous way tonavigate the world, men were separated from their loved ones for extendedperiods and their existence and well-being depended upon their ability tomanage and care for their transport vessel. Those vessels that would be their boon companionsthroughout their many adventures, even 900 plus years’ worth. Ha! I’m sure you wondered when I’d get around to it. Sorry forbeing a tiny bit evil.

It’s no secret that I’m a great admirer of literary geniusNeil Gaiman as are many, many others. Writers and readers alike, we all love his work. When the news broke that Himself waswriting an episode of Doctor Who, the glee and speculation began inearnest. Which episode? What wouldit be about? Would he make a guestappearance? Well, we needn’t haveworried because in typical fashion, The Doctor’s Wife was brilliant. It ranks among my most favoriteepisodes ever and showcases Gaiman’s ability to mesh whimsy with the sublimeand terrifying. If you’ve read TheGraveyard Book or any of his other works, you know just what I’m talking about. If you’ve not read the Graveyard Book, go here or getyourself to a library toute de suite.

(l-r, Neil Gaiman, Suranne Jones, Matt Smith)

The Doctor’s Wife opens with our motley crew tooling throughspace, business as usual, when a knock (yes, a KNOCK!) is heard at the door ofthe TARDIS. An antiquated box with a distress call from another Time Lord sendsthe Doctor and the Ponds on a trip outside their universe. After someknob-wibbling and a bit of turbulence, they’re off. Once they land, things get interesting. A green mist floats away from ourbeloved blue police box and is transferred into the body of Idris (played bythe fabulous Suranne Jones), another traveler evidently lured to the planetstraight from the set of Regency House Party from the looks of her dress. It appears that our intrepid trio hasbeen duped—lured by a sentient planet/entity called House (voiced by Michael Sheen), who intends to “eat” the TARDIS. The Doctor sends Rory and Amy on a fake errand in an effort to returnthem to the perceived safety of the TARDIS, which separates the friends. I say “perceived” safety because with aslip of that glib tongue, the Doctor has alerted House that he’s the last TimeLord, ipso facto, no more TARDIS onthe menu. House institutes a“change of plans” and instead of eating the TARDIS’ artrial energy and murderingthe Time Lord, House absconds with the blue box, Amy and Rory trapped inside.

So, with the Doctor stranded on the dying husk left behindby House and while House hurtles through space, terrorizing Amy and Rory, welearn that the matrix of the TARDIS has been captured in the comely body ofIdris. The beauty of the exchangesbetween Idris and the Doctor are hysterical and touching, especially this onewhen they’re attempting to reconstruct a TARDIS console (thanks to Diary of aProcrastinator’s livejournal for the transcript and of course, thanks to The Neil for the actual words):

EXT. PLANET SURFACE, NIGHT

TheDOCTOR and IDRIS have put together a shell of a room with a small console inthe middle. IDRIS pops up and taps a small piece of equipment with her finger.

IDRIS:
Bond the tube directly into the TachyonDiverter.
DOCTOR:
Yes, yes, I have actually rebuilt a TARDISbefore, you know. I know what I'm doing.(theDOCTOR is dragging a piece of wall by a rope)
IDRIS:
You're like a nine-year-old trying to rebuilda motorbike in his bedroom. And you never read the instructions.
DOCTOR:
I always read the instructions!
IDRIS:
There's a sign on my front door. You have beenwalking past it for 700 years. What does it say?
DOCTOR:
That's not instructions!
IDRIS:
There's an instruction at the bottom. Whatdoes it say?
DOCTOR:
Pull to open.
IDRIS:
Yes, and what do you do?
DOCTOR:
I push!
IDRIS:
Every single time. 700 years. Police Box doorsopen out the way.
DOCTOR:
(throwsdown the rope and walks over to her) I think I've earned the right to open my front doors any way I want!
IDRIS:
Your front doors?! Have you any idea howchildish that sounds?
DOCTOR:
(turnsaway and mutters) You are not my mother!
IDRIS:
And you are not my child!
DOCTOR:
(turnsaround and walks back) You know, since we're talking with mouths, not really an opportunitythat comes along very often, I just want to say, you know, you (points in her face) have never been very reliable.
IDRIS:
And you have?
DOCTOR:
You didn't always take me where I wanted togo. (walks away)
IDRIS:
No, but I always took you where you needed togo.
DOCTOR:
(stops) You did! (whirls around, happy) Look at us. Talking. Wouldn't it be amazingif we could always talk? Even when you're inside the box?
IDRIS:
You know I'm not constructed that way. I existacross all space and time, and you talk and run around and bring home strays.

IDRISfalls but the DOCTOR catches her.

See? Bickering just like an old married couple. That scene brings home the long relationship between theTARDIS and the Doctor for me. Allthese long years, she’s loved him and looked out for him as best she couldwithin the limitations of her construction and technology. She’s taken him where she thought heneeded to go sometimes instead of where he wanted to go, always bearing he andhis friends away from danger just in the nick of time. In my mind, this episode shows that theTARDIS is the ultimate companion with Donna Noble's strong, I'm just as good as you, no-nonsense attitude coming in a close second in term of the human companions. Notice I said "human" so all you River Song fanatics can calm the flock down because we all know that River's got a little something extra special going on, yes? But that's a topic for another post.

Back to the matter at hand. This scene brings home the feminine reference to vessels:

The DOCTOR gets up and hugs her. IDRIS stands slowly.

IDRIS:
Not good. Not good at all. (the DOCTOR helps her sit) How do you walk around in these things?
DOCTOR:
We're not quite there yet... just hold on. Amy, this is... Well, she's my TARDIS. Except she's a woman. She's a woman, and she's my TARDIS.
AMY:
She's the TARDIS?!
DOCTOR:
And she's a woman. She's a woman and she's the TARDIS.
AMY:
Did you wish really hard?
DOCTOR:
Shut up! Not like that.
IDRIS:
Hello. I'm... Sexy.
RORY:
Oh!
DOCTOR:
Still shut up.

His spaceship is the Doctor’s wife, really. She’s his longest and most important relationship becausewithout her, he is a madman in a boxwithout a box. No way to travelthroughout time and space saving his beloved Earth from whichever other alienspecies aspire to menace our society. Like other sailors, he’s committed to her upkeep for their mutualbenefit, just like a marriage. And in the end, Amy saysit best:

AMY:
Look at you pair. It's always you and her,isn't it? Long after the rest of us have gone. A boy and his box, off to seethe universe.

Even though the Doctor regenerates and the stream ofcompanions flows right along, there’s always that blue police box. She’s the constant, traveling among thestars with her beloved Doctor. What do you think? Who’s the Doctor’s ultimatecompanion?

Now that I’ve tortured you with my half-baked lecture, Ithink you deserve a chance to win prizes:

grand prize drawing

For the grand prize, The Complete Sixth Series onDVD, please leave a comment with your name and email address. Youmay enter once at every stop on the blog tour for a total of thirteen chances. The grand prize giveaway islimited to the US and Canada, due to regional restrictions on the DVD. Entrieswill be accepted until midnight CST on December 24th. Erica and Eliza will postthe winner on December 25th and notify the winner via email.

bonus raffle

Commenters on this post will also be enteredto win this Red Canvas Drawstring TARDIS backpack from Bagnabit. You'll need something to carry around all those booksabout nautical myths and legends, right?

Shipping is open to anywhere the USPS ships including international destinations. Contest closesat midnight CST on December 28th. I will post the winner on December 29th andnotify them via email.

next stop!

Many thanks for dropping by! Be sure to visit Becky at Libri Dilectio for tomorrow's final stop on the tour where she talks about Growing Up with the Doctor. And if you’ve missed any stops along the way, consult the blog hop’s Wibbly Wobbly Schedule.

Happy Holidays!

Big Flashy Lighty Thing

2011-12-11T13:32:00.001-08:00

That’s the crux of one of my favorite, favorite quotes fromthe 2010 Doctor Who Christmas special. Matt Smith’s Doctor is explaining his love of all things shiny to theskeptical, elder version of Kazran Sardick (played by the magnificent SirMichael Gambon) and how he’s drawn, moth-like, to the flame of Kazran’s atmosphericweather machine.

Leading up to this year’s Christmas special, some terriblytalented writer folk (first up, the intrepid Erica O’Rourke) have decided to host atour throughout the blogsphere to replenish our deprived and depleted DoctorWho souls. A tour thatincludes prizes and you my friends, like your prizes glossy and gleaming, justlike the rest of us. Even ifyou’re not a Whovian (and really, whyaren’t you? Missing out, I tell you.), I’m sure you’d find great steaming chocolatelymugs of enjoyment in every single fabulous post. Where can you find these brilliant pieces? Glad you asked! Here’s the schedule of posts included in the Thirteen Days of Doctor Who, beginningwith Erica’s:

December 12
Erica O'Rourke: The Moment I Fell In Love With The Doctor
www.ericaorourke.typepad.com

December 13
Eliza Evans: Vincent and the Doctor
www.elizaevans.com

December 14th
Allie Pleiter
www.alliepleiter.com

December 15
Sarah Enni: The Doctor and How He Changes His Companions'Lives
www.sarahenni.com

December 16
Erika Stroup: In Who, Nothing Is Ever What It Seems
www.moonlightbookreviews.com

December 17
Phoebe North: The Doctor As Anti-Hero
www.phoebenorth.com

December 18
Clara Kensie: Who Would Win -- The Doctor vs. Other FamousDoctors
http://clarakensie.tumblr.com/

December 19
Kim Samsin: The Missing Piece In Every DW Alien Species
Http://www.thedeepolddesk.com

December 20
Patricia Riley (and blogmates): The First Time I Met TheDoctor
http://tangledupinwords.blogspot.com/

December 21
Ryann Murphy: Music In Doctor Who
http://ryannmurphy.com/

December 22
Lisa Bigelow: Must Love Doctor Who
http://lisajennbigelow.com/

December 23
Pamala Knight: Neil Gaiman and the Allegory of the TARDIS
http://pamalaknight.blogspot.com/

December 24
Beckybrarian: Growing Up With The Doctor
http://www.libridilectio.com/

December 25
The Drawing!
www.ericaorourke.typepad.com

So, startyour week out on the proper footing with a visit to Erica O’Rourke’s. I’m up on December 23 with my thoughtson the episode entitled, The Doctor’s Wife, written by literary genius Neil Gaiman. I’ll also have a yet-to-be-namedprize for a random commenter on that date. So, put on your Fez, straighten your bow tie, and settle inwith the Doctor and friends.

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Rest in Peace, Steve Jobs

2011-10-05T20:08:00.000-07:00

The visionary and innovative genius likened to Da Vinci and Thomas Edison, advised the 2005 Stanford graduating class to follow their hearts:

"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do," he told the Stanford grads in 2005.

"If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on."

My condolences to his family and friends.

Too Long in the Wasteland

2011-07-20T13:53:00.000-07:00

No, it's not James McMurtry's excellent album but my excuse for being scarce. And a Johnny Cash song (I've Been Everywhere) describes the feel of the last few weeks, though I have to say I haven't been to Wichita ;).

The RWA National meeting in New York City was a wonderful experience and I pitched in person for the first time. That experience deserves a blog post all it's very own, so look for it here soon. In the meantime, I've been slashing and burning my way through my manuscript to get it ready for the folks who've requested it. In the meantime, I thought I'd share my main character's inspired playlist via a Grooveshark widget:

What have you lovelies been up to??

Happy Birthday To Mr. Zimmerman

2011-05-24T09:16:00.000-07:00

Today is Bob Dylan's 70th birthday. In honor of a life filled with song and talent, whose works have inspired so many, I'm posting one of my favorite Dylan tunes as covered by powerhouse vocalist Joan Osborne, Man In the Long Black Coat:

Many happy returns of the day and I wish you could see 70 more.

Glimmers of Hope

2011-05-18T08:38:00.000-07:00

I write adult fiction but this post from D4EO Literary agent Mandy Hubbard, about the children's market cleared away some major clouds for me. Hope springs eternal for those of us who write across the lines.

Break time with Star Trek

2011-04-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

After taking a red pen to page 222, I decided to take a break. A quick visit to The Elegant Extracts yielded a Star Trek Personality test and here are my results:

Your results:
You are Beverly Crusher

Beverly Crusher		70%
Deanna Troi		55%
Spock		52%
Data		51%
Jean-Luc Picard		50%
Geordi LaForge		50%
Will Riker		50%
Uhura		45%
Worf		45%
James T. Kirk (Captain)		35%
Mr. Scott		35%
Mr. Sulu		35%
Leonard McCoy (Bones)		30%
An Expendable Character (Redshirt)		30%
Chekov		20%

A good physician and a caring parent.
You are devoted to your children
and to your occupation.

Click here to take the Star Trek Personality Quiz

Now if only I could find one where Doctor Who is my best match.

Wisdom from the heavens or the Sun Times, whichever...

2011-04-06T07:28:00.000-07:00

Georgia Nichols, one of the astrologers featured in the Chicago Sun Times, has this to say for all signs today:

ALL SIGNS MOON ALERT: Caution: Avoid shopping or making important decisions all day! The moon is in Taurus.

No decisions or shopping at all? That sound you might've heard, if you're inclined to believe in horoscopes, would be a collective groan from retail outlets worldwide. Okay, so the family will have to eat leftovers, I guess. No trip to the grocery store and online shopping at Gilt.com is o-u-t. I don't even want to imagine world economies and the impact of the "wait until tomorrow" style of management. On the plus side, here's the forecast for my sign:

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): It’s easy to be happy and optimistic today! Something will delight you. Perhaps it’s good news that is coming your way or good news you are sharing with others? It could relate to your daily activities or siblings or writing and teaching. Congratulations!

Maybe I'll double my editing pages goal today. Who knows? Anybody got news for me that you haven't shared yet? What does YOUR horoscope predict for the day?

The Hangover

2011-03-26T18:41:00.000-07:00

No, I didn’t wake up in Vegas, married to a stranger, with no recollection of having a tooth pulled or aching and bruised after singing with Mike Tyson. I’m coming down from the high of some really big announcements.

Yesterday, Romance Writers of America’s nominations for its most prestigious awards, the Golden Heart (unpublished works) and the RITA (published works), were announced. The notification calls went out early in the day and were finished by 3pm CST. I believe the maximum number of entries in each group is around 1200, so imagine 2400 people anxiously biting their nails, swilling pepto-bismal or chewing antacid tablets, as they waited for their phones to ring. Knowing that only ten percent of the entrants would make it to the final round. Yours truly was included in the nervous throng, and my call never came.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that I didn’t make the final cut because really, who doesn’t want to be chosen? Remember when you lined up as a kid for volleyball, kickball, softball, whatever, as you waited to hear someone call your name? And you remained on the sidelines—unchosen! Okay, now you’re with me. Sometimes it worked out and sometimes it didn’t. But you were always a little bit anxious while you waited, right? Even if you didn’t give a rat’s patootie about playing, you still wanted to be chosen.

But even though yesterday didn’t bring me a Golden Heart nomination, it was still a banner day. I placed second in the First Coast Romance Writers Beacon contest for Unpublished writers. Now, I know I promised a boatload of tears if I didn’t win, but this time, that pink dress came with sexy shoes as a bonus. One of the judges of my section of the draw, an editor from a major publishing house, made a request to read my manuscript in full. I know what you’re thinking. Reading is not buying and you’re TOTALLY right. Reading is just that—reading with no promises made. But let me tell you, it’s not easy to get in front of those eyes, so I’m going to bask in the glow for just a little while.

The editor request was plenty of good news for one day but that’s not all. I owe the wonderful and sharkly Janet Reid, a debt of gratitude and a bottle of scotch for giving the advice to all bloggers/writers/website owners, to make sure a contact email is listed someplace on your site. Because of that, one of the other judges, an agent (oh la la!), contacted me and asked to read the manuscript. Say it with me again, “reading is not buying or an offer of representation,” but it’s nice to be the pretty girl in the room for a change.

All that to say, I’m probably the happiest one of the group of non-finalists ever produced, and with very good reason.

You can bet I’ll be spending the next couple of weeks weeding and pruning my manuscript like I was the head gardener at Kew. So wish me luck and cake.

Happy Mardi Gras Day

2011-03-08T05:38:00.000-08:00

I know that my grandparents are probably in heaven having a good laugh over the fact that my two sons have never been to Mardi Gras. What, never you say? Never had the experience of scouring the street for candy and treats and scurrying between the legs of strangers to get as much as they can? No yelling, "hey mister throw me something!" at the top of their lungs? No chasing after the floats or dancing along with the marching bands? No wearing all their beads around their neck all at the same time? No? Never? That's right, never.

Fat Tuesday always finds me a little bit sad every year since moving here to Chicago. And even though many fine establishments here in the Windy City celebrate Mardi Gras on a micro scale, it's not quite the same. The difference was made plain to me long ago, right after I'd arrived. Some of my friends invited me to Venetian Nights with the selling point that it was "just like Mardi Gras only with boats on the lakefront." Well, of course, I was excited and approached the event with great anticipation. So great was my anticipation that I fear I wasn't quite fair to Venetian Night or my poor friends who were stuck with me in my misery that fateful night. After watching what for me, was a boat show, the loud complaints began. "This is NOTHING like Mardi Gras.Why aren't the boats decorated? What's the theme? Why aren't they throwing candy/trinkets/booze/something/anything? Where are the marching bands? Where are the urchins stealing candy right outta your hand?" Well, as you've probably figured out by now, the night went south pretty quickly after all that whining from me. My friends were only too happy to put me in a cab home, all alone, lol. Lessons learned: never assume something is "like" something else unless the describing party has actually been to the other event; also don't whine too much or too loudly to your friends or they'll ditch you. Anyway....

In honor of Mardi Gras day, I've already made red beans and rice and I'll probably have to make my own King cake. Here's Professor Longhair singing Go To the Mardi Gras to get you in the mood:

Enjoy!

Waiting for Adele

2011-01-31T16:56:00.000-08:00

Once, February 22 arrives and her new disc is available in the U.S., I'll get the full experience but in the meantime, I thought I'd share:

Reading is Fundamental

2011-01-12T08:31:00.000-08:00

And by that, I mean that reading is fundamental to learning. This is especially true for me because even when I’m not writing, there’s usually reading material within striking distance via my Kindle, Smartphone (hello Kindle app!) or a physical book to distract me from the “amnotwriting” portion of the program. My reading taste spans a broad range but a good story told in a compelling manner, no matter the genre, is always key.

My latest guilty pleasure came in the form of GETAWAY, the final story in uber-talented author Cara McKenna’s (she was nominated for a 2010 Golden Heart last year) Shivaree series. McKenna’s characters wrap themselves around you with their witty, sizzling and realistic dialogue and don’t get me started on the vivid settings. This isn’t a review of the series, though I do strongly recommend it and believe me, you won’t be disappointed. I wanted to talk about what the author does so masterfully and what I learned from it.

There are three main characters, Shane Broussard, Natalie Foster and Gabriel Marino-Doucet. I won’t tell you too much about the love triangle because you really should read it for yourself but I want to talk about the writing. Only two of these folks is allowed a point of view. Us writer types are always careful with the POV because it conveys the nuances of the story, gives texture to personality and sets the tone all through the eyes of that particular character. Shane and Natalie have something or rather someone in common (Gabriel) and the reader’s impression of Gabriel is entirely at the mercy of the other two. His hypnotic sensuality and eccentric, old world qualities spring to life in his interactions with the others, especially Shane and Natalie. But in the third tale, we learn that all may not be as it seems and our impression of Gabriel may have the tiniest flaw. But is this change, this alteration in thinking revealed from Gabriel’s point of view finally? No. It’s still told from the point of view of the other two characters. It’s such a skillful thing which achieves two very important pieces of the characters’ story arc—we get to see a change wrought in all of them while still receiving the emotional payoff deserved by the one who’s head we’ve been in all along. A change in perspective while still in the same point of view is achieved. I know that it happens all the time, especially in literary fiction where we only get one point of view because the character have to show their misapprehensions, misperceptions and mistakes before we can see how those things have changed them or others.

One of the best and most famous examples of this is Jane Austen's PRIDE AND PREJUDICE told exclusively from Elizabeth Bennett's point of view but we see her perception and ultimate reality of Mr. Darcy change from the inital first impressions right down to the end result where everything changes, all within the single perspective.

I know that I’m explaining this badly, but I’m so amazed and impressed that I just had to share. Cara McKenna is an excellent writer and I highly recommend you spend some time with her and her characters.

NaNoFailMo

2010-12-03T20:45:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I didn't make the goal of 50,000 words. Still about 15,000 short but I'm glad I tried. It was a great experience and I'll definitely sign up again. No excuses and I'm sure that there are plenty of other folks who were similarly afflicted but I did enjoy it. This first time out taught me that if I focused on getting the words out instead of how many words, then I could possibly get closer to or even attain my goal.

I'm not alone in my failure. Even mega-superstar historical author Carolyn Jewel missed her target. Her attitude about the lack of meeting a 2000 plus daily word count inspired her to open up her blog for fellow crashers to commiserate. In honor of Carolyn, who is seriously talented, and all the rest of us slackers, I give you Beck's international anthem that was probably running through everyone's head on or around November 30:

A Bridesmaid Once Again

2010-11-24T09:01:00.000-08:00

Remember back before Spring Fling 2010 when Chuck Sambuchino, the editor of the Guide to Literary Agents blog, allowed me to post this little opinion piece on writing contests? Well, it appears that I'm in the wedding party again.

I'm a finalist in the First Coast Romance Writers Beacon contest for unpublished writers and couldn't be happier. Now I understand those folks who say things like, it's awesome to just be nominated. Right now, I agree wholeheartedly. Right now, I'm on cloud nine just to be among the last three standing. But check back with me in a few weeks to see if there might be tears if I end up in the ugly pink dress instead of the white Dior satin.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Bumps in the NanoWriMo Road

2010-11-17T08:45:00.000-08:00

The month of November is a little more than half over and that means that we're that much closer to NaNoWriMo being over.

I have two distinct emotions surrounding this fact: YAY! and OMG, I've still got 30,000 words to write. Don't worry, I'm not of the mind that the product of the November writing sprint is going to be fit for public consumption (or any other kind of consumption for that matter) until a great deal of revision has been done. But, I still want to finish, if only for the satisfaction of getting to the end of a task.

Some of my nano buddies are way ahead or are far behind in their personal word count goals. For those, like me who might be suffering from intermittent writer's block or just the doubt that what you're producing is worthy, here's an excellent take written by Martina Boone and posted at her shared blog, Adventures in Children's Publishing. The advice is timely and relevant to all writers, not just those interested in Young Adult literature. There are loads of other excellent pieces posted there, so amble on over and take a look.

Taking the Plunge

2010-11-01T05:33:00.000-07:00

I'm participating in NaNoWriMo proper, for the first time this year and I'm a little nervous. Last year, a modified version called NaNoReviseMo was the order of the day but this time, I'm going all out in order to try for 50,000 shiny new words instead of revising an existing manuscript.

The company is good at NaNoWriMo this year with many of my chapter mates from Chicago North, FFnP, Celtic Hearts and the lalala's also participating. There are bootcamps offered through Savvy Authors, Romance Divas and other places devoted to NaNoWriMo, including agent Nathan Bransford's entire blog from last week. Nathan might re-think his propensity for being helpful to budding authors when queries for all those first drafts land in his inbox in early December ;-). I suspect that agents all gird their loins or sharpen their teeth or whatever it is they do to deal with the slush piles when NaNoWriMo is over. After all, it's a good thing to encourage the masses to write, right?

Finally, the insanely talented and horribly funny Chuck Wendig offers up some advice, encouragement and a list of do's and don'ts in order to achieve success in getting those 50,000 words onto pages. Chuck also made me want a NovelBot but mine needs to do laundry as well.

Happy Samhain!

Equal parts darkness and light

2010-09-22T10:39:00.001-07:00

Today is the Autumnal Equinox. That's where the tilt of the earth's axis is at an angle so perfect in its symmetry that one half of the world is filled with light, while the other half will be shuttered in darkness. The earth normally leans away from or towards the sun. But not today. Today the earth stands upright and neutral, neither leftist or right-wing in its tendencies. Everything in equal shares.

In honor of this annual phenomenon, which gives inspiration for a story where the equinox figures prominently, I give you Death Cab for Cutie:

Goodbye Summer, hello Fall!

Karma

2010-09-02T17:35:00.000-07:00

At my RWA chapter's latest meeting, we finally performed the critique session won at the Spring Fling silent auction. There was a bit of shuffling to schedule our winner because the original date offered didn't work for her. A scheduling conflict, don't you know. We'd offered a date prior to the RWA national meeting with the intention of giving the winner the benefit of getting their 25 pages in front of our group so they could gather some helpful feedback beforehand. Just in case there was last minute polishing needed before any pitch sessions in Orlando. But it didn't work out like that.

Even though life gets in the way sometimes, providence has a way of helping out in the aftermath. If our winner had been able to meet our pre-nationals meeting time slot, chances are she would have read her pages to our group, a VERY sound and strong group with a plethora of published authors, soon-to-be published authors and talented unpublished authors, but maybe to a depleted group since most of our members went to Orlando and Disney World, early. They were gawking at Space Mountain and swilling booze in the bar with their friends instead of worrying about anyone's pages but their own.

As fate would have it, our winner read this past Monday night. Luck was on her side because RITA for Young Adult winner and New York Times Bestselling author, Simone Elkeles was in attendance. The critique winner writes YA and couldn't contain her excitement when she heard Simone's voice on speakerphone. She also benefited from hearing the opinions of other published authors like Marilyn Brant, Blythe Gifford, Morgan Mandel, Debra St. John, Joelle Charbonneau, Beverly Long and Maureen Lang. The rest of our Chicago North group offers equally relevant critique and everyone offered their ideas on making her manuscript shine.

Lucky indeed.

Have any of you ever had a rescheduled event work out better than you expected? Did you consider it karma?

My Day at Lollapalooza

2010-08-10T08:19:00.000-07:00

There was no writing done last Friday because of a break so that I could attend Lollapalooza. Lollapalooza started out as a touring fest but is now only held in Chicago and features an awesome line up of musical talent. Jane’s Addiction frontman Perry Farrell is the architect of this behemoth event and all the awesome bands that take over Grant Park and Chicago’s lakefront for a weekend every year.

Even though I desperately wanted to attend on all three days, the husband’s firehouse schedule and my other maternal responsibilities limited me to attending for just one day, so I picked Friday. I did entertain the idea of taking the boys with me since I'd only have to purchase a ticket for the elder son and not the younger since kids 10 and under were admitted for free. But I resisted since I really didn't want to be irritated with either of them for exhibiting kid-like behavior (I'm tired, I'm hungry, when are we going home, etc.) and interfering with my fun.

As I boarded the train stop near my house, I joined many other folks who were bound for the festival. I could tell they were on their way to Lolla because of their accoutrements (flips fliops, water bottles, blankets, etc. and assorted band t-shirts) The train was definitely the way to go because I could drink without worrying about driving out of the city afterwards. Believe me, between Lollapalooza taking up Grant Park and the filming of the Transformers 3 movie, downtown was a nightmare for folks in cars what with all the street closings.

I didn’t arrive in time for the early acts, so first up for me was Mavis Staples and OMG was she in great voice. At 71 years old or so, she still rocked the house and her backing band and vocalists were crisp. Jeff Tweedy from Wilco joined her on stage at one point. She performed on the Budweiser stage and had an enormous crowd even though up against Rafael Saddiq who performed at the same time on the larger Parkways stage at the other end of the park.

Since I'd also decided that I wanted to see the New Pornographers more than I wanted to see Devo, I hung around the Budweiser stage after Mavis Staples and just turned around to listen to the Drive By Truckers who were on the Playstation stage which bookended that section of the park. They did fine with their southern rockabilly for about half an hour before I got bored and went in search of the bar. You should all be VERY proud of me because I had to pass the cupcake vendor no matter which way I went and I resisted their best attempts to lure me in. Red velvet cupcakes are usually a guaranteed sale with me, but I decided that I would not ruin my impromptu workout (all the walking from stage to stage) by stuffing my face with cake.

Going on my own was fine too even though I missed my friends who were originally supposed to attend as well, but couldn't make it. It was a really clear and sunny day, but hot (85 degrees Farenheit) so after the cocktails, I made a beeline for the water bottle refill station. Then I found a good spot, put down my mini-blanket and sunned for a bit before the New Pornographers came on.

They sounded great, maybe a little "polished" but not in a bad way. They were energetic but didn't mess around with the music. And ALL of the NPs were there including Neko Case. She looked adorable in her floppy hat (one of her band mates offered her $500 for it) and was in great voice for the two songs she sang, Crash Years and Mass Romantic. Kathryn sang most of the other songs that required a female vocalist which seemed fair but odd, I guess. I know that Kathryn came in when Neko's solo career took off, but it seemed strange to almost see Neko as guest vocalist. All in all though, the New Pornographers didn't disappoint and I shot a bit of video of two really cute guys in front of me who danced for the whole of the set.

Now that I was armed with both a drink, a full water bottle and sunscreen (tried to buy a hat but the long lines won and I gave up), I headed over to the adidas stage for Matt & Kim. They were excellent and had a big crowd also. I recognized the two songs that my friend Ang sent on her excellent compilation and it seems that everyone else there did too. There were plenty of beachballs being bandied about and Matt is really charming and charismatic. He kept the crowd rocking (and his clothes on this time) and even though he talked between songs, it wasn't too much. Kim did her bit by banging the hell out of those drums. Once they were done, I sprinted back to the Budweiser stage (think 8 city blocks) to catch my new favorites, the Black Keys.

I was feeling really good about all of the bands I'd seen up to that point but I tell you, the Black Keys were worth the ticket price. This duo blends rock and bluesy soul like no other. Think Jimi Hendrix meets Cream meets Albert King or John Lee Hooker. They sang all my favorite songs and I did shoot a little footage with my Flip. But I also learned that you can be a dancer or you can shoot video, but you can't do both. So, sometimes the video might be a bit shaky or sideways or something not conducive to watching without hurling. I also suspended shooting at one point because the cute guy in front of me kept staring and smiling at me. Now, I'm never against being friendly but I think this guy thought I was shooting "him." Even though he was cute, his shoes were all wrong and I'm nothing if not snobbish, shallow and crazy about footwear. So, basically he was getting on my nerves by being in the way of me trying to film Dan and Patrick.

After the Black Keys, honestly I could've just gone home but I'm glad I stayed. I really wanted to see Hot Chip, but they were on at the same time as the Black Keys. I did race over (all the way to the Parkways stage at the south end of the park) and heard the final two minutes of their last song. It was great and the crowd cheered for more, even after they left the stage.

While waiting for Lady Gaga/the Strokes, I wandered by Jimmy Cliff (a wonderful cover of Cat Steven’s Wild World), Jamie Lidell (what a voice!) and ended up at the end of Chromeo's set in preparation for GaGa. There were a sea of folks to see Lady G and some of them in full regalia. I didn't get too close but the jumbo video screens helped. Lady Gaga showed the crowd her love and reminisced with DJ Lady Starlight about their 2007 Lollapalooza appearance on the much smaller BMI stage. Her voice was strong and clear and even though she talked a bit too much between songs and what with all the costume changing and dark alleyways set, it made her set drag a bit for me. After she sang Alejandro, I bolted back to catch the last half hour of the Strokes. They were in full on rock frenzy and played a great set to close out the night.

By that time, I was a little headachy (not a word I'm sure but you know what I mean) from all the sun and so left the park and stopped off to have some Tom Yum soup and a little Pad See Eiw before boarding the train with the few thousand other people who were leaving too.

Here are a few links to Day One reviews:

http://leisureblogs.chicagotribune.c...in-review.html

http://www.examiner.com/x-427-Chicag...-Pornographers

http://www.autostraddle.com/lollapal...revenge-55193/

http://www3.timeoutny.com/chicago/bl...0-live-review/

http://www.venuszine.com/articles/mu..._rules_the_day

I was almost tempted to buy tickets for the kids and me for the Sunday just to see MGMT, Arcade Fire, Soundgarden, Felix da Housecat, Cypress Hill and Erykah Badu. My willpower held out so I just listened to some of the bands through the radio feed.

All in all, Lollapalooza was great and I’ll definitely go again.

Where've you been?

2010-08-04T20:58:00.000-07:00

It seems I'm always apologizing for the radio silence. Not that an apology isn't deserved for the space between posts, it is. But I've come to see that no matter how crazy things get (and the crazy made the scene big time), I should always make time to keep the blog current. A schedule is a good thing and from now on, even if I'm boring not only myself to tears, but you too, there will be a weekly post. Promise.

As a further offer of reconciliation, here's Lou Rawls singing Tobacco Road, which I love because my mom loved it and I grew up listening to it. Maybe I'll post a little King Oliver another time. Enjoy.

Paper or PC?

2010-05-20T09:09:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a friend, a fellow writer, about the different methods she uses when editing. I've learned that no matter how diligent I think I have been, no matter how closely I am sure I've read and re-read the new text, I'm unable to effectively (without mistakes) edit on my laptop. This makes me sad because my shiny, silver MacBook Pro is a haven for fancy editing-type paraphernalia and programs all just waiting for me to use them the way they were meant to be.

I have to print out a copy of the chapter or passage that I'm working on, take my trusty mechanical pencil in hand and start marking. If I try to make my edits in Word or Scrivener without paper assistance, mistakes abound. Not just tiny typos--big giant WTF could that sentence possibly mean type errors. I find it a strange quirk because I can write spreadsheets, insert formulas, check and double check the authenticity of the data and all without having to print a hardcopy. Why, doesn't this perk/talent/quirk transfer to the written word? Is it a 'numbers versus verse' anomaly?

I try to be as green as the next person by recycling paper or re-using the edited chapters as scratch paper for the kids math homework, but I get the feeling that many many trees might have to sacrifice themselves for my cause. Sorry, can't help myself. Wish things were different.

What is the most effective way for you to edit? On paper or via your computer? A combination perhaps?

I'm sure that this Nike commercial featuring Roger Federer is not new, but I only just found it and find it hilarious:

I'm sure that many of us aspiring writers feel just the same way as Roger's "coach" (love that guy from Flight of the Conchords) when we think of or encounter the masters in our genre.

Enjoy it.

A Wonderful Way to Help out in Nashville

2010-05-07T11:47:00.000-07:00

I was watching CNN earlier today and no matter how many times I see the video of the devastation wrought by the flooding in Nashville, I'm still shocked anew. The damage is widespread and normalcy will take months perhaps even years to recover for the residents there.

The damage to the Gaylord hotel in Nashville has forced the RWA national meeting to be relocated from Tennessee to Orlando, Florida. RWA loops are buzzing with questions and information on airline flights, agent/editor pitch appointments, driving distances and many other issues surrounding the conference. The publishing community is also rallying round an auction spearheaded by three authors meant to benefit Nashville. Click here to see all the fabulous items being donated and bid upon. Whenever I see online auctions, I always wish I had some talent or possession that would interest anyone enough to encourage them to donate but alas, I don't. But, I can bid on items that interest me and even if I don't win one of the bids, I'm going to make a donation of whatever I can afford. I hope that you will too.

As I watched the CNN broadcast and report on the Nashville flood, the sound was muted on my television. But in my head, this is the song I heard:

I hope you'll click the link, browse the auction items and/or make a donation if you can.

The Best Time Ever

2010-05-04T15:17:00.000-07:00

Is it gauche to crow about a conference I helped organize? Don't get your knickers in a twist just yet and start worrying about my ego, because I don't mean to wax poetic about my part in it. I mean the attendees, the professionals, the presenters, my co-chair June Sproat and the hotel staff in their entirety who were all in awesome squared mode the whole time. Other folks much more adept with the written word than yours truly have blogged about it here:

Pamela Cayne

Smart Bitches Trashy Books

Stacy Ahlgren

Robyn Bachar

Marilyn Brant

Some of those talented people blogged more than one post (Pamela C and Smart Bitch Sarah) so poke around their blogs to get the full shilling.

The conference gave me so many shiny, happy moments and our headliners were both as fabulous as I dreamed they would be. Cherry Adair, also known as my new BFF (her words, I swear) is as generous and funny as she was when I met her two years ago, and now lots of other folk know that about her, too. I Love spreading the word about great people and Cherry is great with a capital G. After her two hour morning workshop, she commandeered one of the planning offices and spent another THREE HOURS with anyone who wanted to continue working on their plans and storyboarding, which turned out to be fifty people. Was she exhausted by the time she was up for the Gala keynote speech? Of course she was. Did she kill? Oh yeah.

Julia Quinn, who writes those witty, side-splittingly hysterical historicals is no slouch in the funny department either. From that enormous well of talent springs the Bridgertons and Lady Whistledown so I'm just saying. And even though she's a NYT best seller, RITA-nominated and has written and sold a gajillion books, she played the assistant in the Avon spotlight, I kid you not. Who was that lady handing out books and prizes to those who asked questions? It was Julia Quinn, I swear. Talented, funny and a regular person. The most awesome takeaway for me from her lunch keynote address? Don't set your work space close enough to the refrigerator so that you don't have to get up to open it. That's got wisdom seeping from it's pores it's so spot on. How awesome would it be, if you didn't have to get up to open the refrigerator. Right? Her lists of things to do in order to stay grounded and with your eyes on the prize was serious and wondrous, too.

Now that my brain isn't sleep addled, I'm sure I'll share more of the conference from my bird's eye view over the next few posts, like when I met Sarah Wendell from Smart Bitches Trashy Books and she whipped out her lovely and SHINY iPad and told me that she'd be blogging from the conference using that device. We all know how I covet everything sparkly and the iPad is the glitteriest of the glitterati. So, once the iPad was there within my grasp all the words from those around me sounded like this:

Not me: " ...blog from the conference, blah blah blah..."

Me: ZOMG! I wonder how fast I could get back up to my room and log onto the Apple website to order the new 3G version!!

Not me: " ...see how interactive this book's illustrations are (demonstrates by making the White Rabbit's pocket watch swing back and forth like a pendulum) blah blah blah

Me: WANTS! Wonder how mad my husband would be if I ordered one?

Not me: "...you can try it if you like. Here take it..."

Me: "Uhh...." Backs away and wonders if all that glorious silky black hair of Sarah's hides horns and pointy ears.

It was really nice to finally meet all the people I'd been corresponding with these many months leading up to the conference and they were all incredible. Every one of the editors and agents were so friendly and open that I wonder why I'm so terrified of industry professionals? Oh, because they can either help or hinder my dreams of publication. Now I remember. But I forgot to be nervous or scared because they were all fabulous. And the workshop presenters? Forget about it. I was in fangirl secretly screaming and squeeing heaven.

Oh sure, a few people had some suggestions for next time, like don't make the print on the name badges so small (not June's fault but mine since I couldn't get my mail merge to work at home, so she did them in my hotel room Friday morning at the last minute), or to suggest that the hotel hire a new chef (dude, I thought the food was awesome and so did Paige Wheeler so there!) or that we should announce the pitch appointments much earlier so they could prepare (all those interviews and links on the website meant nothing?) and so on and so forth. But I promise to pass along all the comments, good or bad, to the next chair and keep my fingers crossed that they can execute a mail merge better than I.

The Final Countdown

2010-04-22T14:23:00.001-07:00

It's finally here. Spring Fling 2010 starts tomorrow and I'm equal parts elated and terrified.

I know I've been scarce here but for good reason. I've been working like mad in hopes that all my fellow attendees enjoy themselves while meeting professionals, fellow authors and gaining footholds in the publishing industry.

I'll write a post once it's all over but the crying, outlining the fun (hopefully) had by all. Maybe I'll even have pictures.

Stay tuned!

A Celebration and a Contest

2010-03-30T17:44:00.000-07:00

Not by me, though. I don't have anything to give away. Not yet. This announcement is for a friend.

Moonrat is hosting a celebration at her awesome blog, Editorial Ass. The reason for the virtual spread where my imagination serves up cupcakes (German Chocolate among the many), sushi and perhaps a big bottle of vodka, is to honor her 500,000 hit at her blog. There's a whole lot of us stopping by EA for not only the tales of the Aunda, Sylvester Antoino the clever kitchen mouse, or to lay bets on what time Moonie will eat her lunch (hint: MUCH earlier than lunchtime). But in between all this merriment and mirth, we stop by to get the goods on the publishing industry from an insider.

You too, can get a shot at getting a step closer because if you go here and leave a comment, you'll get a chance to win a 20 page critique from the woman herself. It's a contest and the winner will be chosen at random.

Congratulations on your numbers, Moonrat. Here's to 500,000 more hits.

Guest writing and the Friday wrapup

2010-03-19T23:18:00.000-07:00

Chuck Sambuchino, editor of the wonderful and informative Guide to Literary Agents blog, graciously agreed to post a link to Spring Fling for June and me. He also offered us the chance to post a guest blog which sent us both into fits of panic, outbreaks of hives and a general anxiety attack. We can barely concentrate on writing the resident blog posts let alone guest ones. However, I won the roll of the dice and did my best to not embarrass me/us. Here's the link to my post on writing contests. Take a look and see if you agree with my assessment.

We're really pleased to have Sarah Wendell of the extremely informative, wildly popular and generally hilarious Smart Bitches Trash Books website, as one of our many talented workshop presenters. She'll be talking about online marketing and if anyone knows from the internets, it is Sarah. She blogged earlier today about how Chicago's going to rue the day if the weather falls into the "inclement" category when she makes the Spring Fling scene. Folks, things aren't looking good for the City of Big Shoulders because in the almost twenty years I've lived here, April is not the month where the heavens break open and decide to play nice. I got married in July long ago and the California wedding guests were buying overpriced sweatshirts on Michigan Avenue because they were cold. Sweatshirts!! In July!! All I'm saying is that the weather gets kind of crazy and very atypical sometimes around these here parts. So, I might need to start an extra special basket of awesome for the out of town presenters to counteract the probability of it being messed up during conference time.

I can hardly believe that Spring Fling is almost here but I'm truly excited for it to arrive.

Building a Better Mousetrap

2010-03-10T20:08:00.000-08:00

Several Christmas mornings of my childhood saw a repeat present--the Ideal Toy company's MOUSETRAP. I was fascinated by the Rube Goldberg-esque game with the shiny silver ball that seemed to careen out of control, traveling down blue plastic stairs, through oddly-angled hoops, and inside bathtubs with the ultimate object of trapping the mouse underneath the plastic net. The timing and precision of the simple tasks that would lead to the end of the mouse's freedom left me breathless. Unfortunately, as is the way with some children's toys (even or especially on Christmas morning), my Mousetrap game never lasted out the day. I believe that my grandfather, in his zeal to help and possibly shield what might be his own enthrallment with the game...umm, how do I say this? He broke it. His large hands could never quite manage the small, delicate plastic replicas and somehow turned them into useless, broken game pieces.

My Mousetrap failures are at the forefront of my mind today because my You Tube recommendations posted this:

This video renews the wonderment of my childhood and all those Christmas mornings where I crossed my fingers that this would be the year I'd get through St. Stephen's Day (Dec. 26) without having to give up my Mousetrap game to the Island of Misfit toys. Mostly, it's just cool and I thought it would be nice to share.

In the Home Stretch or A Chance to Win

2010-02-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

We're a little more than eight weeks away from Spring Fling 2010 and in typical fashion, the home stretch is where the work is hardest. Getting sponsors, goods and services donated, items for the silent auction, programs finalized and printed and menu planning are just some of the many, many things that June and I are wrapping up.

On opening night of the conference, there will be a VIP dinner attended by the headliners, the lovelies, Julia Quinn and Cherry Adair, in addition to our editors, agents and presenters. The star power--it is blinding, my friends. Because in addition to Julia and Cherry, there will be:

Selena James, editor/ Kensington Books

Amanda Bergeron, editor Avon/HarperCollins

Lindsey Faber, editor Samhain

Kat O'Shea, editor the Wild Rose Press/Leap Books

Paige Wheeler, agent Folio Literary Management

Laurie McLean, agent Larsen Pomada Literary Agency

Joanna Stampfel-Volpe, agent Nancy Coffey Literary Management

Diana Fox, agent Fox Literary

Then there's the authors who are presenting workshops too:

Elizabeth Hoyt

Jade Lee

Carrie Lofty

Courtney Milan

Blythe Gifford

Sherrill Bodine

Patricia Rosemoor

Marianna LaCroix

Annmarie Ortega

Kimberly Osborn Sullivan

Nancy Parra

Jenna Petersen

Laurie Brown

Lindsay Longford

Margaret Watson

Allie Pleiter

Pat White

Sarah Wendell

Ruth Kaufman

The reason for the laundry list? We're giving away two tickets via random generator drawing to this exclusive event. So, if you've already signed up--good for you!! To quote Tyra, 'you're still in the running for...' and if you're still on the fence about attending Spring Fling, for goodness sake, sign up already because you'll be in the running too. In other words, attend Spring Fling 2010 and get a chance to win a ticket to the VIP dinner. We're giving away two of them. Deadline is March 15, 2010 at midnight CST.

Here's your chance to meet all those industry professionals and authors without having to accidentally spill your drink on them at the bar and then slipping your manuscript in the bag when you return the dry cleaning ;-). Not that bringing your manuscript to the dinner is a good idea. NO, no, no. Please don't do that. That's why there are pitch sessions and plenty of them. But it is a good way to meet those people who might have a hand in making your hopes and dreams come true for a little while.

So, go out to the website, marvel at the awesome purple and pink fabulousity and SIGN UP!!

When Life Gets in the Way

2010-02-08T09:28:00.000-08:00

This past weekend was designated "Write your A$$ Off Weekend" courtesy of Editorial Ass. I had great plans for the motivation and opportunity, a mini-outline of what I wanted to commit to paper and a block of time in which to achieve all this. Except for it didn't work out quite like I'd planned.

On Friday morning, my youngest son, the Snugglebunny, came down with a vicious sore throat that morphed into a stuffy head and runny nose. Poor thing suffered for the entire weekend. Those of you who're parents know that focusing on yourself and garnering that elusive solitude needed to write is nigh on impossible if there is a sick kid sniffling nearby all the livelong day. So, between preparing soup, riding herd on the oldest son's computer time and indulging the patient in a Harry Potter moviethon, I managed to get absolutely no new words written.

That's not to say that I didn't get ANYTHING of an authorial nature accomplished. I managed some research on an aspect of a Celtic deity who's important to my current heroine and also found a Gaulish/Brythonic goddess that shares traits with the one whose life I'm stirring into a roux. I'm not making it an exact retelling of any of the legends but I significantly borrow bits and pieces where it suits me. Finally, I edited about 10,000 words of a completed manuscript that needs polishing.

So, no shiny new words, but I did get the old ones dusted off, tighened up and looking a bit more presentable.

Eyes on the Prize

2010-01-18T17:09:00.001-08:00

To commemorate Dr. King's birthday and his message to the world, here's a little musical reminder to us all:

Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful...

2009-12-23T08:36:00.001-08:00

Well, not really. It snowed a lot yesterday but today is overcast and promising more snow in Chicago which might turn into icy rain. Today, I'm lacing up my boots to drag the kids with me to face my own personal bete noir--a trip to the mall. Yes, it's last minute Christmas shopping and like the Cage the Elephant song says, 'oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked, money don't grow on trees..." So it's off to mingle with the other rabble who also left it till the last.

I'm behind for a myriad of reasons: Spring Fling things, clueless about what gifts to buy and recuperation from a nasty bout of the flu. But there are people in the world whose circumstances are far worse than mine and two of my favorite blog sites are hosting fundraisers for Heifer International: Patrick Rothfuss (of the awesome NAME OF THE WIND fame) and agent/ author, Nathan Bransford (JACOB WONDERBAR AND THE COSMIC SPACE KAPOW). Heifer helps communities in so many ways, so if you have a spare nickel or two, go out and donate if you can.

Okay, enough with the procrastinating. I'm off to the mall. Wish me luck and cake.

Merry Christmas.

Enlightenment from the West

2009-11-20T06:20:00.000-08:00

Thanks to this link from the Heart of Denver Romance Writers, I'm all clear on genres now.

Happy Friday to everyone.

Genres and Labels

2009-11-17T16:00:00.000-08:00

For a little while, my current manuscript and I were hopelessly stalled by the side of the road. Broken down. Not moving. Like a 1973 VW bus being driven from Des Moines to San Francisco with one and a half of the dual carburetors on the fritz. Seriously.

Thanks to a little NanoReviseMo mojo and the help of some friends and my critique partner, I'm unstuck and finally beginning to understand the tenets of goal, motivation and conflict in literature. Who knew that I didn't fully grasp the concept when I was taking all those literary theory classes at Jesuit university? Now that I do, things are looking up in terms of being able to pinpoint not only a description, blurb and elevator pitch for my tale, but I think I might even have drawn a bead on the genre.

What's that you say? How could you not know what GENRE you're writing! The horror!!! Well, you try figuring out if it's science fiction/fantasy with romantic elements or a historical paranormal romance. To top that off, what if it's single title (still not quite clear on that, someone PLEASE help) or Category. Here I thought, I'll just write down this story that keeps screaming inside my head but no, I have to tell you what it is. IT'S A STORY I MADE UP. Please stop confusing me. Or frightening me a little, in a good way by educating me with complex publishing-related math like Moonrat did over at Editorial Ass today. I mean your accountant might need an accountant to keep up with what's what in terms of earning out an advance. If you ever get one. Fortunately for me, I do already know that zero times any number is ALWAYS zero.

But thanks to publishing glossaries such as this one posted by blog fave, agent Nathan Bransford here or the anti-fairy version featured on fave 1.0, agent Janet Reid's shark infested waters here, I'm a little bit closer to the mark. Highly entertained though, but not necessarily as clear as I could be.

Please send chocolate.

Inspiration and Adulation

2009-10-19T10:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Monday! Things are busy as always here at the homestead. June and I are down to the wire with getting the Spring Fling 2010 conference brochure, registration forms, editor/agent lineup, workshop presenters, sponsors, etc. all in the upright and locked position. No hyperventilating yet, but it is early, so check back and then check here to see for yourself.

An excellent post on prioritizing and where the theory of the super is demystified by Nancy Parra can be found here.

And blog and fan favorite of the global internet, Nathan Bransford ,posted the results of his Best First Paragraph contest today. Read this piece from top to bottom, especially the critiques of the finalists, because it's full of gems about writing. The man's got serious literary skills. This is the kind of critique that all writers need, I think. Not someone who says 'your writing sucks' because that does me no good. I can't improve anything from those words alone, even if they're true. You have to give me more and in a manner that engages my active listening. Rude and unhelpful doesn't get the job done. Unless of course, you perhaps 'forgot' that I'm the woman with the coke bottle and the stocking cap and a trip to the hospital is on your agenda for that day. Otherwise, I need to know that there was too much exposition or not enough, or that the voice is passive or that I switched point of view (no head-hopping!) or, I think you get the picture now. Be helpful or be gone.

Now that I've fulfilled the rant quota for the day, I thought I'd share some awesome music. This is Trixie Whitley on vocals singing with Daniel Lanois and Brian Blade in their band Black DUB. Enjoy!

Doing the Highland Fling

2009-10-08T08:12:00.000-07:00

The Spring Fling 2010 website went live here today and I thought that the warm-up dancing should begin. There's still a little bit of tweaking to be done, but we thought that we would give the masses a peek at what've we accomplished so far. Once registration opens on November 1 (Samhain on some calendars) which is appropriate because we're lucky enough to have Lindsey Faber from Samhain Publishing as one of our editors taking pitches, then we hope to have everything confirmed and the line dancing can begin in earnest. Though I won't be joining in the electric slide, sorry ;-).

Speaking of dancing, Wikipedia tells me that the Highland Fling (that'd be a cool name for a conference focusing on Celtic/Scottish romances, wouldn't it?) is a dance that warriors did when they returned victorious from battle. It involved very precise leaping and prancing on a targe, a small round shield with a steel spike in the middle. Um, I don't know about you but I think that should I have made it back from battle with my feet intact, I wouldn't risk driving a spike through them by dancing on my shield, spike side up. What if you bent it or once the single malt started flowing and you know it would, someone landed on it? What was wrong with a dance floor or the ground? Well, anyway. Though I don't like the idea of the Highland Fling as a dance after battle, it's still nice looking done on a stage like this.

Release Day!

2009-09-29T06:57:00.001-07:00

Today, my dear friend and Chicago North-RWA chapter mate Marilyn Brant celebrates the release of her debut novel, ACCORDING TO JANE.

If witty banter, sparkling dialogue, an intriguing plot and oh so tight writing is your cuppa, then rush out to a bookstore near you or the nearest online retailer and look for this awesome work. Another Chicago North chapter mate, the erudite and hilarious Liz Evans is hosting an interview with Marilyn and also rewarding a lucky commenter with a copy of the book. And the clever and troubadour-savvy Pamela Cayne is at the tail end of Marilyn Brant week where Marilyn shares her love of the Big 80's. Definitely a worthwhile and hysterical effort leading up to Marilyn mania and According to Jane's debut.

Click on the links, please. I'm so proud of myself for finally figuring out how to do that--the linking, I mean. Because visiting the other sites not only gets you a chance to win an awesome book and read about an author who's extremely talented, there are recipes for sinfully delicious things to be had. That, my friends, is what I call starting the day covered in milk chocolately awesome sauce.

Watch out for that Giant Boulder or Nevermind....

2009-09-08T15:54:00.000-07:00

I can explain the radio silence. Really I can.

I have been a very busy bee gathering workshops, speakers, editors and agents for Spring Fling. But that wasn't my only time sink.

Back to school loomed large and there was supply shopping that had to be done. Evil, evil supply shopping that strikes terror in the heart of procrastinators like me. I never win with the shopping. If I try to get ahead of the curve and shop right after the list comes out at the end of the school year, then they haven't stocked the items yet. If I hold true to form and wait until the very last possible minute, then I get the sneer of derision from some pimply, disinterested youngling who takes what seems a vast amount of pleasure in telling me that they're 'out.' Out and never getting any more, okay lady? That's what I hear when they roll their eyes, sigh heavily and tell me that yes, that's exactly where the obscure thingamabob the teacher asked for just to see if I would buy it, was housed but it's now gone. Anyway, today was the first day of school and I am totally willing to bring the pain if either teacher gives me any flack about 'missing items.' Because outside of paper, pencils/pens and maybe a zip drive, I consider all that other stuff they force us to buy as nonsense.

On a happier note, I've been browsing this awesome site for graphic tee shirts that openly encourage submissions for ideas for new tees. The site is called Threadless and they have many wonderful shirts on offer. My new favorite says something like (and I'm totally paraphrasing) 'dude, if your pants are on fire, then being a liar is the least of your concerns.' Or something to that effect, but there are many, many brilliant choices.

I might offer up one that says WILL WRITE FOR FOOD. Let's see how far that gets me.

Ode to Gregarious Loners

2009-08-12T16:31:00.000-07:00

Just the other day, literary agent extraordinaire Nathan Bransford blogged about what authors can and should do to promote themselves. This was framed in relation to the amount of publicity provided by publishing houses. The central message being that God helps those who help themselves, in a manner of speaking. Nathan is always erudite, sparkling and witty and this post was no different, ending with a reminder that even Cormac McCarthy went on Oprah.

Yeah, that Cormac McCarthy--self described "gregarious loner," author of All the Pretty Horses, No Country for Old Men, the Stonemason and The Road, to name a few of his works. Is that not the BEST description you've ever heard??? I love that description. I'm absolutely barking mad about it. I mean, it lends itself to so much wonderful contrast and conflict in an oxymoronic kind of way. But I'm swaying off topic here in my word-induced state of glee. The reference to Cormac McCarthy started me thinking about other gregarious loner author types. Sometimes they're gregarious or sometimes they're just loners, that's key--the loner part. A few names immediately sprang to mind: Charles Bukowski, J.D. Salinger, Thomas Pynchon, and others of the ilk where their literary notoriety isn't tied to any of the current media outlets. A paraphrase of a quote usually attributed to Bukowski is one of my favorites: "It isn't that I don't like people, I just like 'em better when they're not around." People, that is cash money gold-level genius even if it is a screenwriter's interpretation of the man.

The question that's been raised, by Nathan's excellent post, is what level of success is achieved if you don't press the flesh and help the process along? Is it possible in this day and age for the brilliance of the writing to make up for a multitude of other shortcomings? Or do you have to listen to the tune and then get your dancing shoes on?

Get in the Ring

2009-08-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

A friend recommended a book to me just the other day. And in what has become habit, I went out to a few sites to read the descriptions and reviews of said book. One of the places I checked was Amazon, where I decided to read what the rest of the world thought about the book. Well, the opinions were wildly varied and some of the lower-starred reviews were downright rude.

I'd never really given much thought to other peoples opinions on books and generally decide for myself based upon whether or not I like the premise. Like a bolt of lightning, a memory crashed in on me and I recalled that one of my Chicago North-RWA chapter mates debuted a book recently and the reviews on Amazon were favorable. All but one. One reader wrote what seemed a very narrow-minded view of what the author 'should' have been doing with the book instead of enjoying what she actually did. A nagging sensation brought a twinge of terror to mind.

What would happen if I were lucky enough to get published? Would I be relegated to never reading a review or avoiding Amazon entirely? My temper sometimes lends itself more to the 'waiting outside for you with a coke bottle (the old ones made of heavy glass) and stocking cap over my face' school of resolution rather than the 'everyone's entitled to their opinion' school of thought. But that can't be good, can it?

I applaud authors everywhere for remaining calm and ignoring the hurtful things that are sometimes said about their books while tucking away the useful advice for the next effort. Because really, who wants to hear that their baby is ugly? No one. And especially not those of us who own coke bottles.

The Nonromantic Romance Writer

2009-07-11T10:08:00.000-07:00

This last week, I've done a great deal of editing on my manuscript. My new critique partner, the fabulous Ellen, has been invaluable in helping me tighten up my work by eliminating sections that don't forward the action, rehash something already told, thinly veiled info dumps, and the sort of nonsense and lazy writing habits that I'm prone to engage in.

From an entirely different, but no less reputable, source came even more useful critique concerning my ongoing struggle to master POV, pacing and active voice. These are all areas where I struggle, but I'm determined to get it right. The funny thing about this 'other' critique is that it pinpointed something that struck me as funny. The person said that if I hadn't indicated 'romance' then they would have thought my story was a straight paranormal fantasy. Why would I find that funny? Well, I'll tell you.

I mentioned before that my RWA chapter might eventually wonder what possessed them to agree to let me chair our upcoming conference since I'm probably the least romantic writer (or one of them) in the group. My strong affinity for fantasy and sci-fi writing (Neil Gaiman is in Chicago today at ALA accepting the Newberry medal for the Graveyard Book. WOOHOO!!) finds its way into all of my writing and if I had my wicked and warped way, our romance writers conference would be headlined by Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, and Patrick Rothfuss. And what would that get me? I'll tell you. There would be a whole bunch of thoroughly confused and probably angry women out for my head if June weren't here to restrain me. Not that I could GET Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett or Patrick Rothfuss to come and speak but that wouldn't stop me from trying to convince them.

And to further illustrate my non-romantic ways, one of the two stories I'm working on currently has a character so reprehensible that even I think of him as the BIGBASTARD. He shows no sign of reforming and seems to be quite content with his lot in life, as it were. You would think that I, as the author, would have some control over his actions, but such is not the case. I'm letting him tell his own story and all signs are pointing to the road to ruin. We'll see what happens.

Anyway, again congratulations to one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman, for winning a very prestigious and relevant award for an outstanding book.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2009-06-17T08:39:00.000-07:00

The collective horde are off to the husband's homeland for a couple of weeks. So, in the meantime I'll leave you with a topic to discuss while I'm gone. The degeneration of originality in mainstream music of the last fifteen years can be blamed on what exactly? Consider the British invasion of the 60s, the soul and glam/rock explosion of the 70s, THE BIG 80s (that's for you, Marilyn teehee) , the grunge domination of the 90's to the current American Idol/Eurovision-based machinery in your answers.

Have a listen to one of my favorite Kinks songs while the rest is rolling around your brain. This video drags things back to a writing theme because face it, aren't we all tired of waiting for something at some point? Tired of waiting for your muse to come back, tired of waiting to hear about your submission, tired of waiting for the guy working at the coffee shop who asks you everyone morning , 'what you'll have?'

Flinging Myself into Spring Fling

2009-06-04T12:06:00.001-07:00

I mentioned before that the doppelganger volunteered the rest of me to help chair my local RWA chapter's upcoming writer's conference. Amazingly, things are turning out quite well and I'm very pleased with all the progress we've made.

Finalize dates, check. Engage hotel and set location, check. Get headlining speakers, check. Now the real work begins. My co-chair, the lovely and talented June Sproat, is brimming with ideas (very good ones too!) about ways to make Spring Fling 2010 an exciting and worthwhile event. Did I mention how awesome our headliners are? Well without further ado, I give you:

Julia Quinn AND Cherry Adair. Holy crap, now that is a lineup that is worth traveling to Chicago in April where it has been known to snow (!) on opening day of the baseball season. Both ladies are writers of the highest caliber and are also presenting workshops. But the most exciting thing for me is that they are both just as EXCITED to be attending. Isn't that wicked cool? I mean, instead of having to beg and plead and offer up a pound of flesh in payment, both these ladies have been nothing short of fabulous. I met Cherry at last year's RWA national conference and I can testify firsthand to how hysterical and entertaining she is. Julia, I suspect is equally funny because if you've read even a sample chapter of the Bridgerton series, then that dialogue could only come from a mind possessed of a great wit. Her blurbs don't call her the modern Jane Austen for nothing, I think.

Anyhoodle, I'm just giving everyone a bit of fair warning that it might be prudent to book yourself into the Windy City during the third week of April next year. We're going to have a blast and it would a shame if you missed it.

Welcome to the Dark Side

2009-05-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

For Mother's Day, I hit the mother lode of swag with my custom, recyclable tote bag (complete with a poem that's seriously hilarious in that vein that only nine-year olds can write), breakfast prepared for me (tea, a boiled egg and toast) and a Kindle.

All of my presents rate high on the awesome scale because I am a tote bag maven and have quite the collection ranging from my recyclables from both the last RWA national conference and my local public library to my sturdier canvas chic JASNA AGM bag. ( Does that make me a bag whore? Hmm). My pretty new bag has been tagged to serve as my library books/research materials repository. Hopefully that will help to keep me a bit better organized on that front. The breakfast goes without saying since tea and toast is perfection in the way of a morning meal for me. The boiled egg was just icing on the cake as far as I'm concerned. But where I'm really going to need an intervention is with the Kindle 2.

A true test of my capacity to control my urges lies in the offing with my new eBook reader. The features are all full of win for me: the 3G wireless network that can be turned on or off and which makes either accessing the web or ordering books that much easier, the 2G hard drive capacity for up to 1500 books, the keyboard, the lack of glare when reading outside, the bookmarking and annotating feature and the 5 point controller for navigation. If I had a complaint to make it would be that I would like it to be backlit. I know that there are many features that I haven't mastered in the two and half days of ownership but I'm totally excited about having it. I mentioned a while ago that I was on the fence about eBook readers because I'm a book lover from way back. I love the way books feel in my hand, love that smell that emanates from the paper. But I'm totally on board with being able to carry a boatload of books hither and yon all in the slim and sleek confines of my Kindle.

I still haven't figured out how to send myself a document yet so if anyone has any tips on that or of any kind, I'm all ears.

Testing one, two....

2009-04-26T13:13:00.000-07:00

I'm ready to give it the old college try once again. And by "it" I mean trying to embed a video into the post. I'm not surprised that something that millions of people (children even!) can seem to manage is beyond my particular scope of understanding. I think it's only fair that I also confess that I can barely balance my checkbook. I have, however, mastered linear algebra. Do Not Ask. Long story.

Keep your fingers crossed that one of my favorite artists, Tori Amos is a click away from showing you her prowess with an early favorite of mine. I listen to Tori a lot when I'm writing. In reading the acknowledgments pages in one of his books, Neil Gaiman mentions being at her house in Ireland while trying to write one of his books. It appears though, that in the end he spent most of his time there suffering from a nasty flu. But, I'm glad to know that one of my favorite writers also enjoys the some of the same music that I do. I will admit to being a tad jealous that Neil knows Tori and also that Tori knows Neil. Catch-22, eh? Vicious circle? No, that's Mrs. Parker and if Neil Gaiman knew Dorothy Parker then I'm prepared to throw a hissy fit because that's just taking things a bit too far.

Nothing much else to add. Sorry to have been radio silent for so long. And yes, Dr. Newell, I SWEAR I'm writing.

Nature versus Nurture

2009-04-03T07:52:00.000-07:00

Last night I watched my least favorite matchup of tennis players: my perennial favorite Venus Williams contesting the semi-finals of the Sony Ericsson Open against her sister, Serena. Venus matches up well against Serena in many ways with her groundstrokes, net coverage and movement. Although Venus has the bigger serve (she's sent a 129mph laser beam at some hapless player), Serena's serve is more solid, consistent and fluid.

While watching the match, I began to ponder the differences between them and wondered what factors made them into the very different players that they are today. I mean, of course they're sisters, raised in the same household, coached by the same parents on the same subpar courts in Compton, CA and probably given the same fitness regime and discipline. I was puzzled and then it occured to me that Venus, who burst upon the scene as a precocious ten-year old prodigy is the natural talent while Serena is the force who was molded, like a perfect Frankenstein's monster. Venus is a gifted athlete, tall and lithe who from a very young age has always been naturally athletic. Serena on the other hand, grew from being the small, runty sibling who had to work hard to create her giftedness. It's strictly my opinion, but I think that it's the key to why Venus has difficulty with her shots when they break down. If you're used to just being able to do something naturally and then an unexpected occurence interferes with that fluidity (like being injured), I imagine it's probably harder to compensate or adjust. Serena's groundstrokes don't break down easily because she's had to hone her craft and is probably more used to making adjustments.

My convoluted metaphor of the sisters started me thinking about writers who are born versus the ones who are made. Nature versus nurture, if you will. On a fan fiction board that I frequent, there are several young authors who are exceptionally talented. One of these authors wrote a story at the tender age of 15 that I believe rivals any literary effort in print today. If my theorizing has any validity, then she's a natural talent and probably much like Jane Austen, who wrote two of her most popular novels, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, before she was even 22 years old. The exuberant genius of both those works came from a woman who'd been writing since she was even younger and obviously had an affinity for it from an early age. So Austen would fit into the nature category.

I've chosen J.R.R. Tolkien and his body of work beginning with The Hobbit and progressing with The Lord of the Rings trilogy as my example of nurtured talent. Tolkien worked in and around the literary arena after returning home from the war and before becoming a professor at the University of Leeds. So, he was fully mature once his body of work came to the forefront and biographical details show that he spent a great deal of time writing those epics. I see him nurturing his considerable talent, honing his craft and producing the great fruit of that labor in his excellent world building reflected in the tales of Middle Earth.

Returning to my pseudo-analogy--are good writers born or made? Can working on craft enhance an inborn talent or can an equally great tome be gleaned from the hard work and attention paid to the technical aspects of writing? I think so.

This and That or the Great Train Heist...

2009-03-02T15:30:00.000-08:00

Since we last convened, I've made progress on my latest writing project. After some restructuring of the story, I find the words flowing a bit easier. I like to think of it in home remodeling terms since essentially I've thrown out the first set of plans and redrawn the first three rooms. Perhaps my block was just my mind's way of holding up my permit until I came up with a truly viable plan and one that wasn't going the blow the doors off my budget.

And my block receded just in time to stop me from flinging myself headlong into the fray of buying a new Kindle (000hh, Shiny!) or a Sony Reader. Now, I read a lot, I mean A LOT and the last thing I need is for technology to make it much easier for me to ignore the housewifery (okay, once again, can't really blame that on technology or anyone else since it seems to be a natural enemy kind of thing going on between me and the dustbunnies), but I was very close to making a purchase. I've read lots of contrasting views on the pros and cons of eReaders. For me, the lure is the ability to hold and store many, many books all in one lovely and SHINY, yet slim volume.

On the blue line going downtown, I think I scared a fellow passenger who might've thought my intense perusal of her Sony Reader was the prelude to a snatch and grab job, but I restrained myself, I promise ;-). This lady's Sony was leather bound, fit neatly into her palm and was subsequently tucked away in her backpack very easily. She seemed to turn pages with the same ease that I use when reading a book on my iPod Touch and I've become quite the fan of fictionwise.com for books that download to my iPod. I have to be in the mood to listen to a book or trapped on a plane, otherwise, I want to read it myself. There's something about being able to read a sentence or passage that is well put together. Sometimes you have to read it a few times, just to get the bouquet, so to speak.

Let's hope that I can hold out in my quest to refrain from buying an eReader just yet. I'm sure that somewhere down the road, I will but I'll want to make sure that I pick the right one--Kindle, Sony or some other brand, as long as it's shiny.

Block and Tackle or was that Tackling Block?

2009-02-08T17:44:00.000-08:00

Lately I've had some shall we say, difficulty, getting my thoughts to flow from my overly cluttered mind and onto a pad of paper or Word document. Finally, the denial stage is done and I've admitted to myself that I'm suffering from writer's block. Not being alone in my suffering does nothing to alleviate it, but chocolate and loud music seem to help immensely.

Another friend, also a writer, has been suffering a similar fate. She and I have formed a mutual support system of encouragement (nice words for we nag one another) and it's been successful. For one of us, anyway. She's produced two and a half chapters of work since we started and I've written about 500 words. The depths of my jealousy could dig a hole beneath my feet all the way to New South Wales. But not jealous because of the breadth of her work. It's more like I keep coming up with all of these wonderful ideas that are going to make this a much longer piece than I ever imagined and I need to reign myself in so that I can focus on one of them. So, I'm trying to devise a system of organization that will let me write in non-linear pieces and then work on the flow.

In the meantime, my dearest darling friends from the other side of the Atlantic have sent music to soothe my savage beast. David, the hottest thing going in Northern Ireland, sent a compilation that has featured wonderful artists such as Lisa Mikovsky, Santogold (a fave), Tricky, Travis, Heather Nova, Chairlife and Little Jackie to name a few. I think my current favorite track from the disc is by Amaral and is titled, Kamikaze.

My friend Beat who rocks the house in Zurich sent me an awesome compilation that features the Raveonettes, Elbow, Deerhunter, Super Furry Animals (always a fave since their song Venus and Serena), M83, Sebastien Tellier and Martina Topley-Bird tripping the list of win. Beat's compilations are always a favorite with my two sons who still love Wir sin Helden's Zuhalter, affectionately known to them as the rubber band song. Kids, what can you do? Both compilations are lovely and eclectic, just like their composers.

I wanted to embed a youtube video of at least a couple of these songs, but I still seem to be on the blacklist with Blogger because no matter how many times I read the directions, I still don't seem to get it right. Sorry about that. Feel free to youtube any of these acts and you might just help me dance my way around the block. I'm holding out hope.

All about MeMe

2009-01-19T17:11:00.000-08:00

The lovely and talented Nancy Parra, has tagged me in a 'meme' on her excellent blog,This Writer's Life, which says that I must , must list six things that make me happy and then tag someone else to share that same information with the world. I've done a piss poor job of trying to add links for the other blogs, so for that I apologize. Okie dokie, here we go:

1) Reading- I've always loved to read. There's nothing like losing yourself in the pages of a great book. It can lift your spirits, add salve to your soul or transport you to another time and place, all within the recesses of your mind. I think that rocks. That leads to the next area of enjoyment which is...

2) Writing - As I've said before, I've written ever since I knew how to write. I made up poems, written songs for my pets, documented life events in my journal and made up stories to occupy either myself or someone else. It's such a wonderful feeling to get something down on paper that's been lurking around inside your head and when you read it, it evokes exactly the image from your brain. Once I can do it so that others can see what I see too, then I'll count myself as a good writer.

3) Tennis- Oh big surprise, right? No. I love this game in a manner that borders on obsession, but don't worry--I tolerate the unitiated extremely well. That is until I've got you somewhere within my clutches and you can't escape before I start to extoll the beauty of the Federer forehand or the Venus backhand. A lifelong love affair is what is going on between tennis and me.

4) Time/fun with my sons, husband - Okay, I don't know if they'll be upset at the pecking order here, but it doesn't mean that they're not first and foremost in my mind. When my kids rush to read the funny paper to me or want me to play Wii with them, I count myself lucky because I know that the day is coming when I'll have to drop them off at the corner to keep the other kids from seeing that their mom is lurking nearby. And the husband goes without saying, he's fun or else I'd have traded him in long ago. He loves and supports me even when he doesn't understand something about me and for that I'm forever grateful.

5) Movies/outing/time with my friends - my friends are all so wonderful and I cherish them all. Whether we're sharing a meal, going to the movies, meeting at book club to discuss our latest read or just hanging out, they are my family who just happened to be born to different parents.

6) Music - Also another non-surprise. My tastes in music are wide and varied and I'm fortunate to have a group of friends with similar philosophies about music. On the WTAWorld tennis board there's a forum called 'What Band,' and my mates there all bring something new to the musical landscape which helps to expand my horizons.

Well, that's my contribution to this particular 'meme' and I'm tagging the erudite and talented Teresa, a fellow Austenite, whose blog 'Elegant Extracts' is a constant source of delight.

I'm also woefully behind in paying forward my 'blog love' award. I've forgotten the exact rules and how many people/blogs I'm suppose to tag, so bear with me while I fly by the seat of the pantaloons, here. Marilyn Brant awarded it to me and I in turn am awarding:

Kelly Gay- can't wait for that book to debut, her blog is awesome and her little boy is totally cute.

Book Book - reviews of what else? Books! A wonderful format.

GOTOTENNIS - freakyfrites spreads the love fifteen both near and far.

Topspin tennis - Steve's wonderful and well-balanced tennis blog.

Okay, all done.

A Life filled with Purpose

2009-01-06T07:27:00.000-08:00

The advent of the new year hasn't completely lifted my dark mood, but I've decided to learn to swim with the tide rather than against it. It also doesn't help that I've been battling a really nasty flu for the last six days. I say that in warning, just in case none of the rest of this post makes any sense.

I rarely make resolutions for the new year and the ever effervescent Marilyn Brant, whose blog is listed in the blog roll, posted an excellent treatise on the proper way to deal with those--resolutions, I mean. Marilyn also has introduced her brand new website and is hosting a contest, open until the end of this month. If you're popping by here, take a minute to click on the link to her blog and leave a comment, please. I'm all about the swag and she's got plenty of it.

I've recently volunteered to co-chair my RWA chapter's conference in 2010. I'm excited about making decisions involving which authors we'll be able to lure to Chicago to be our speakers, who'll be on the editors and agents panels, and just being involved in all of the ins and outs of running this event. As an unpublished writer, I think the experience and exposure to all of the elements of the writing life will be exciting. I learn something new almost everyday about the publishing industry or the writing craft, but hope that my business world experience will translate to making our Spring Fling a success. In addition to getting the lineup for the event in order, I'll be trying my best to lure authors, aspiring or established, to come to Chicago to attend the conference. I'll post my progress on this front as time passes, otherwise I might be asking for a tee shirt that says "STOP ME BEFORE I VOLUNTEER AGAIN."

I say that because I'm also the new program chair for my chapter. What does that mean, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. It means that I'm responsible for pleading, whining, wheedling and cajoling people into attending one of our two monthly meetings to speak about things that are of interest to the writers in my chapter. My predecessor in this role, the awesome Martha, has actually left me with a very nice cache of speakers and activities until I get on my feet. For instance, Patricia Rosemoor of the wonderful vampire and mystery romance books, will be on deck for April. My dear friend Nancy, who's a professor, author and certified image consultant, has agreed to speak to our group sometimes during the year. Nancy has a book on fashion and style debuting in February, Your Personal Style. There's also 'hot night' where members read a steamy section from some of their writing. Most recently, Carrie Lofty, whose book What a Scoundrel Wants , debuted in December and is justifiably getting rave reviews, offered our last program event with a seminar on writing action sequences(snakebite scenes). I really enjoy program night, so hopefully being the program chair won't take the fun out of it for me.

So, let's hope that in addition to wrangling my family and keeping up with my own writing, that this new volunteer opportunity provides me with plenty of purpose over the months to come. Fingers crossed.

I am SO going to hell

2008-12-16T17:53:00.001-08:00

At least that's what my college roommate used to tell me. And my stock answer to her was, 'but at least I'll have company since all my friends will be there too.' She usually admonished me thusly (can you tell I've been reading regency romances along with all the other stuff?) after I'd participated in some antic either willingly or unwittingly, but usually with an outcome that was unexpected.

My dear friend and neighbor is a lovely Filipina married to a German American man and they're both sweethearts. Very loving, warm and funny people. At this particular friend's home, my kids and I are exposed to and indulge in the wonderful and rich culture that comes from the intermingling of worlds as such. We share many things, from our respective cuisines to experiences in the neighborhood and my youngest son is even adept at understanding a smattering of Tagalog. They both already speak French and Spanish in addition to other languages, so they're way ahead on that front. My girlfriend calls me a Filipino term of endearment that I certainly can't spell but which sounds like 'die-ee' or sometimes 'luon-ga'.

Recently, the husband's mother and aunt, who emigrated from Germany when they were girls in the 1920s, were in town for a visit. My friend is a social creature and anyone arriving is always treated as a revered guest and refreshments and whatever is necessary to make one comfortable is laid out, promptly. When my friend's in-laws arrived I was there visiting and so, fell in step with the rest of the women, bringing out coffee, pastries and such for the mother-in-law and the aunt or 'tanta'.

Now, the two older ladies had been eyeing me all afternoon, not necessarily with any wariness, but with what seemed to be genuine curiosity. They hail from Nebraska and though the population is sure to be small, there must be some people of color to which the ladies might have been exposed. So I can't figure out why they keep staring at me and neither can my friend. It's starting to make the daughter-in-law nervous, but I'm determined that it's nothing and so I grab the coffee and head out to warm up their cups. They both smile at me and strike up a conversation.

"Thank you for pouring the coffee," says the aunt.

"It's no trouble at all. Is there anything else I can get for you?" I smile and hover with the coffee pot as the two clutch their cups and saucers.

"No, thank you dear." I turn with the intention of going back to the kitchen when the mother-in-law reaches out and gently grabs my wrist. She motions for me to lean closer and then says in what was probably suppose to be a stage whisper.

"You're very tall, you know. You must be the tallest Filipina I've ever seen." I straighten up and look to my left at my friend whose eyes have popped wide open. She's wearing a slightly hysterical look, her mouth opened a bit, and I can see the question on her face before it's replaced with a wicked little smile. Now, I do have thick, heavy and dark hair and my complexion is caramel-colored and even. I am indeed tall, almost six feet. But I should never be mistaken for a Filipina. Ever. But, instead of admonishing my friend's mother-in-law, I just smile and lean back down to her.

"Yes, I guess I am." I then escape to the kitchen. It's a good thing that both the aunt and the mother-in-law are a little bit deaf, because we might have scared them with the screams of laughter.

Swimming Upstream

2008-12-12T11:05:00.000-08:00

I know. I know. This time of the year is never good for me, no matter how hard I try. A self-imposed lecture on the myriad number of blessings I have (good health, great family, excellent friends, roof over my head, food to eat, etc.) never seems to make an impact except for making me feel guilty for having them in the first place.

Many people suffer from the winter blues and goodness knows that here in the great frozen Midwest, I'd be excused if such were the case with me, but it's not. My mother's birthday is the week before Christmas and since my last post revealed that she's no longer with me, you'll understand that it's the time of year that I miss her most. My best friend, also deceased, would have celebrated her forty-seventh birthday this Christmas Eve. So, I'll be in a dire mood for the next few weeks, working hard to lift myself from the doldrums and not get mired in misery.

When I was young (er) I wrote dreadful poetry or stories as an outlet for my angst and I guess some old habits die hard. Hard enough, anyway because I laid out an entirely new story, plot, GMC and suitably horrible ending for hero and heroine, all in the space of a few hours. All this on the strength of transferring my black mood from my mind onto paper. I tried to think of any notable authors who writes sorrowful tales where no one is ever really happy and the endings are sad. Then I realized that there are plenty of talented and noteworthy authors who write stories exactly like that , but the work isn't considered romance.

Like the Scarlet Letter. That's a pretty sad story wrapped around an awful conclusion and I'm sure I could come up with many others but for now, I'll ponder this particular work from Nathaniel Hawthorne. Wikipedia says that The Scarlet Letter was considered Hawthorne's magnum opus. So perhaps instead of trying to lift my black mood, I should mine it for literary achievement since I seem to be lacking the cheerfulness needed to write a proper romance.

National Day of Listening - The Other Mary

2008-12-02T10:32:00.000-08:00

It was National Listening Day last week and Moonrat via her utterly sublime blog, Editorial Ass, made a wonderful suggestion that we all try to collect a story and post on our respective blogs. My collection is from my aunt Gloria, my mother's seventy-five year old sister, who was channeling the spirit of thanksgiving by relaying this tale.

My mother, Mary, was always what my aunt called a 'dangerous beauty,' with her laughing eyes, great legs and figure, and was also a fiercely independent sort who walked the line, swaying between submission and rebellion when they were young. She was a free spirit who often chafed against the rigidity and morality placed upon a young woman of color living in the South. My aunt was the more docile, biddable daughter while my mother usually did the things asked of her by my grandparents, but also carved out an existence that was entirely her own. She loved dancing (sometimes considered sinful in many Baptist households but not so much with her own Baptist and Catholic parents), read a wide variety of books and encouraged friendships with people from all walks of life. I remember that the Metzgers were prominent at my First Communion and one of my mom's best friend's was gay. I was probably a full-fledged teen before it occurred to me that Uncle Warren didn't keep company with any other women besides my mother. All of this served to make Mary a little bit of an outcast at the church she attended with her mother and sister. There was a particularly harsh and judgmental young woman called Arnelia, who according to my aunt, was more than a little jealous of my mom and who took every opportunity presented to make snide comments about my mom to anyone at their church who was willing to listen.

So, my aunt Gloria, my mom and Arnelia all grew up, married, lived their lives, had kids, etc. but still the feelings and prejudices from their youths held fast. They were cordial in person, but secretly still held onto their disapproval. Strangely, I only remember Arnelia as being very kind and solicitous to me since I tutored her daughter in Math back then.

My mother passed away fourteen years ago and my aunt says that Ms. Arnelia related this tale to her at my mother's funeral. Arnelia had to be admitted to the hospital maybe two years before for a major operation. She was long since widowed by then and her daughter lived in another state. The church members she had so fervently clung to visited, but only at their convenience and in the middle of the day for a hour or so. Arnelia was a little bit frightened and felt very alone. She asked one of the nurses if it would be possible for her to have a bath and grooming daily, but the nurse informed her that those things were usually handled either by the family or some of the volunteers. As it happens, this same hospital was where my mother worked in the pathology/histology department.

Ms. Arnelia said that she asked one of the other nurses if they knew my mom and she didn't. She wasn't sure why she asked after my mother, but she was still lonely and worried about the state of things with her health. Well, the next morning, bright and early, who shows up in her room with a basin, a sponge, a comb and brush and some magazines but my mother. Arnelia says that my mom smiled and didn't make any forced chat but just politely said that she heard that she was a patient there and wondered if there was anything she could do for her? For Ms. Arnelia's entire stay of about two weeks, my mother would come early (her shift started at 6a so she came beforehand) and clean her up, brush her hair, read to her and then leave. My mother never told anyone about it and I guess Ms. Arnelia didn't either until she told my aunt at my mom's funeral. But she did tell her that she often thought about my mother as a source of comfort to her during a particularly dark time in her life and how that was ironic.

Arnelia told my aunt that she meant to tell me at the funeral but never got a chance to get me alone and felt awkward trying to sequester me when so many other people were around. She thought that I looked suitably miserable like any newly motherless daughter should. But she told my aunt this story and asked that Aunt Gloria tell me someday. Arnelia said that to her, my mother was 'the other Mary.' Like Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus in the New Testament, who washed and dried the feet of Jesus with her hair. That Mary was also the younger sister and seemed restricted by all that was expected of the women of her time.

Much like my own Mary.

Potpourri

2008-11-23T13:10:00.000-08:00

My friend Marilyn has given me carte blanche to ignore emails, phone calls, snail mail, relatives, friends and neighbors all in the interest of lifting a bit of the weight that the holiday season usually puts me under. It would be heavenly if Marilyn were the boss of me, and of my family too. All would be right with the world. Mainly because Marilyn is AWESOME, but also because then I could follow her advice. Sadly, such is not the case, though.

I'm deeply entrenched in projects (not even my own projects and I've repeatedly informed my children that I was already in whatever grade they're in with no need to repeat said grade), volunteer duties and family obligations. My penance for replacing my old house with a new one is that I get to host my in-laws for Thanksgiving each year. All thirty-five of them. Yes, I'm always outnumbered, but never outgunned, a by product of not having any blood relatives for a thousand miles.

Everything starts to move in slow motion for me around this time of year with the season presenting me with evidence of my lack of organizational skills on a daily basis. Halloween sneaks up on me, then Thanksgiving and before I know it, it's time to make sure that the Christmas shopping I should have done in July, comes to fruition. In keeping with this theme of reckless procrastination, I'm woefully behind in my latest writing class, but I have been getting a small bit of writing in. One of the exercises asked that we describe a beautiful but angry woman. As it happens, I was working on a section where I show my hero back in time, the first time he sees his future wife (almost a thousand years earlier) and I thought I would share my newfound ability to show rather than tell:

Alexander ran into the clearing where he fretted he would find the bird, either wounded or dead from the sling stone's blow. Through the trees and past the last tall standing stone he sprinted, breathing hard. He came to an abrupt halt, when instead of the bird, he saw a girl, straightening up from a crouch and muttering to herself. She appeared to be a little younger than him with long, glossy black hair, highlighted with red streaks brought out by the sunlight. Her olive-toned skin could not hide the color flooding her face and concentrated on her cheekbones. A tightness about her almond-shaped eyes as if she was in pain and the pouty, full lips, set in a grim line, indicated some distress. Rangy and long-limbed, she was as tall as he was and dressed in a belted tunic and leggings. She uttered what might have been an oath, but Alex did not understand or recognize the language she spoke. He stood rooted to the spot, mesmerized by her angular beauty and watching as she held on to her arm, favoring that side. So entranced was he that as he relaxed his grip on the sling, it slipped to the ground with a thud. She started at the noise and at first her dark eyes widened, but then immediately narrowed as she fixed him with a heated stare.

Okay, remember that I'm still working on the punctuation and paragraphing, but I was happy to write a description that even I like. Normally my descriptions read like something a training manual for the Navy Seals might reveal--only the pertinent information and if I told you more, I'd have to kill you. So, my teacher and this class are working miracles with me. Now if she could only teach me to get better organized.

Off to go chop vegetables for the mirepoix for soup. Soup solves a multitude of my problems.

Score!

2008-11-09T13:15:00.000-08:00

In my research for the moving target that is my current plotline, I struck gold yesterday. At the local library, I found a wealth of information on the Carnac stones which are megaliths much like Stonehenge, but these are located in Britanny. Little do they know that they are playing right into my grubby little myth-altering hands.

I'm combining cultures and utilizing shared mythologies in ways that will probably have some scholar screaming for my little finger, but don't worry. I'll have my stock in trade answer ready for all the naysayers, which is 'lighten up--it's fiction.' Not that I'm anticipating a storm like the one that has followed the author who wrote her fictional account of Aisha, the young wife of the prophet Mohammed. And, since there's no one haunting my doorstep asking to publish my drivel, it might just be a moot point. Where was I? Oh yes, my myth-bending and plot which is wildly careening out of control with each passing day. Every day I scribble more action-filled scenes that have nothing to do with advancing my storyline and thus are just overblown navel-gazing for me. Fortunately, I am getting better at the self-editing.

I'm just glad to have found what I was looking for and to have it fit so perfectly with my wicked and warped plans is just the spark I needed to write this weekend.

AND, Venus won the WTA Tour Championships without losing a single match. She handed her sister a bagel in their match before beating two more opponents to claim the title. Nice work and she totally deserved the 1.34 million dollar purse. Did I just type that? It looks so ridiculous in actual words, lol. But I'm sure that those are Venus' sentiments about the loot. That said, the dark days between the end of the tennis season (now) and the Gold Coast tournament brings on withdrawal for us die-hard tennis nuts. So, get ready for the whining and forgive accordingly.

Show and Tell

2008-11-01T10:36:00.000-07:00

This post isn't about that perennial grade school favorite, but about the literary feature of 'show don't tell.' I signed up for an online class focused on that very subject and I'm really excited about it.

Even though I've been writing since I could actually write-- songs for my kitty, poems for the dog or the odd boyfriend here and there, short stories during the college years and the journal that died a swift and sudden death the day I found my husband reading it while nursing a beer, I've never focused much on the craft except when forced by a classroom setting. I just wrote what I wanted to without much thought about the form. Style ruled my inner thoughts and the way they came spilling out onto paper, not the structure. I've covered my shortcomings in that area in an earlier post, so won't reminisce or restate my newfound dependence upon the Elements of Style and Eats, Shoots and Leaves.

As mentioned before, I entered some of my writing into two contests. I didn't final in either, but I think the feedback was really valuable and most of the comments were complimentary and encouraging. Not so much so for judge number three, who should be glad of her anonymity lest she find a tall woman with a stocking cap over her face and a coke bottle in her hand waiting outside for her. Judge number three gave some good advice liberally spliced with a heaping helping of things judges should be trained not to say. Oh well. I'm off topic as they say. This post isn't about murderous rages--I'm saving that for Tuesday, hehe.

The feedback from one of the judges who was more stringent in her scoring but still seemed to like my story very much,was that it needed to show a bit more than I was telling. So, in my effort to take the advice of the writer Kelly Gay, I'm listening to all criticism, even the harsh undeserved kind, as something that pulled the reader out of the story and therefore a point to be examined.

So, off to Show and Tell land. Let's hope that at the end, I'll have a manuscript that draws the reader even deeper into my twisted fantasy land.

Verisimilitude

2008-10-23T15:22:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week, Moonrat's awesome blog Editorial Ass, linked an article by Andrew Wheeler on the practice of 'skipping.' I won't recount it here since I have nothing of value to add to that particular conversation, but it did drag forward some amazing similarities between publishing and apparel. Yes, apparel--as in clothes, jeans, jackets, belts, scarves, whatever. But mostly apparel since that's what I know best.

Booksellers skip when an author's previous work didn't quite meet expectations, even if the author is well-known, respected and otherwise entrenched in the industry. I can relate to this. When I was still a business planner, I had to work with buyers, planning managers, executives from marketing and publicity to determine which products put their open to buy dollars to the best use. And then those products needed to be marketed using co-op dollars and any advertising slicks which might help drive sales. Placement is key as well--floor space and number of units are important to getting those magic numbers. Once the crystal ball predicts which products will be your stars for that season, then the vigorous tracking of their rates of sale begin. Sell-in is only verified by sell-through. If you get your product through the door, that's great, but it needs to leave the building via the cash register at a shocking rate to guarantee you a smile the next time you see that buyer or general manager. And last season's dark washed, skinny jean might be this season's high-waisted granny pant. A dud, in other words. To pilfer and paraphrase from Project Runway, 'one day you're in and the next, you're out.' I guess it's the same with books.

My first thought after reading about the amazing similarity was, 'Oh dear, I might be at the wrong end of this horse.' I never dreamed I was capable of designing a garment but I was very good at the sales, marketing and planning portion surrounding them. So, I've decided to take a positive tack and hope that if ever I should land an agent and subsequently become published, this information will help me to not be such a pain in the ass because I'll understand the other side equally, if not better.

Quit Yer Whinging

2008-10-16T08:54:00.000-07:00

That's what my friend Brennan would say if he had witnessed my latest panic attack over this writing thing.

At RWA national, the effervescent and fit Ms. Cherry Adair, who conducted an excellent workshop on layering and texturing your novel, mentioned that she wrote seventeen complete manuscripts before she sold one. Holy Shit Batman! That is serious determination. And my lovely and oh so talented friend, Ms. Brant said that her recently sold and scheduled to hit stores in 2009, is her fifth novel. It's time for the heavy sighing to begin, folks.

To add insult to injury, I just read over at Janet Reid's blog that Courtney Summers (a literary rock star in the making) was also a manuscript or so down, before she got the one that we're all breathlessly waiting for, done and sold. All I can say is wow.

The bright side to this is that the panicking took place away from the public (though I don't suppose yakking about it here leaves much to the imagination then, does it?), and I can soothe myself with the knowledge that others perservere and keep plugging away at it until they reach their goals.

So, keeping the title phrase in mind, I'll shut my trap now.

Rogue Plot Bunny on the Loose

2008-10-12T08:43:00.000-07:00

I'm knee-deep in world building for my current project and trying to be more organized about it, rather than flying by the seat of my pants like I normally do. I'm trying to make sure that all of the magic and mythology makes sense and is consistent throughout the story. This newfound organization makes for much slower writing than the previous effort, but I think that I'll reap the benefits down the road when it's time for editing. Or maybe it's just another form of proscrastination. That remains to be seen.

But, lately I have been sidetracked, distracted, call it whatever you want, by a story idea that's totally different from what I'm working on. I don't think it's enough to sustain a novel, at least not for me, but probably a nice tight short story or novella. So rather than ignoring this loud, obnoxious, yet beguiling plot bunny, I've decided to just write the darn thing so that it will leave me in peace.

Maybe I'll post it here once I've finished.

In Remembrance

2008-10-06T19:20:00.001-07:00

Exactly a year ago today, my dearest friend lost her battle with cancer. Nathalla left behind a husband, an eight year old daughter, her mother, sister, neices, nephews, uncles, aunts and a host of friends and colleagues who feel her absence keenly even now.

I'm sure that everyone who knew her misses her and grieved in their own unique way, but for me the absence surrounds me and sneaks up on me--quietly, stealthily and in an enveloping manner. We were friends for more than half of my life and although I think I'm finally through the denial stage of the grief, I'm still carrying around the anger. I sneered at the girl outside the grocery store asking for donations for breast cancer research today and she should be glad I didn't take a swing at her. There are plenty of people in the world today who are mean, nasty people and they make you wish that an anvil like the ones in the old cartoons would drop out of the sky and conk them on the head. But those people live to be 97 years old and nothing bad ever happens to them. My dear sweet friend, who was a gentle spirit met her end in a painful and wretched manner that she certainly didn't deserve. Her daughter certainly doesn't deserve to have to hear about her mother rather than experiencing her love and affection.

I bought a bracelet this weekend that I knew was a style that she would like and I'm going to send it to my friend's daughter. Her father will probably need to take the needle-nose pliers to it until she's older, but I want her to have it. I'm also enclosing a copy of The Little Prince for her, because it gives me comfort when I'm sad and missing her mother and I want to share that with her.

I know that life's not fair, but sometimes it's really unfair.

This and That...

2008-09-29T15:50:00.000-07:00

School has been in session for almost a month now and my kids are settled into their routines in the manner I expected.

The twelve year old, a voracious reader with art house taste in music, movies and many things ever since he could talk, has to be threatened daily with a book burning to rival the great Chicago fire to get him to concentrate on his homework. His copy of the latest Christopher Paolini book arrived Friday, but I'm holding it hostage in lieu of some Science fair homework. We won't get started on my hatred of Science Fair projects which seem to be more for me than for him. Could we teach the students some science before we force them to come up with a concept on their own and then burn down, chop down, or otherwise make their homes uninhabitable with their efforts at experiments? I'll save the balance of that rant for another day.

His younger brother, the Spongebob Squarepants aficianado, comes home from school and knocks his homework right out so that he can get down to the serious business of watching Patrick emerge from under his rock house for the umpteenth time or listening to Squidward insult his two hapless neighbors. It drives my husband crazy that the 'spare' doesn't seem to have the same burning passion for reading that the 'heir' does. But I've told him to give him time. He'll get around to what moves him soon enough and I'm in no hurry for him to grow old. He's also a purposeful sort, always has been, so I'm sure that once his priority shifts to reading serious literature, he'll make it known to one and all.

In the meantime, I'm just glad that at least twice a week, for six glorious hours, I have the house to myself to read, write, attack or ignore the housewifery or to do whatever captures my imagination. It heightens my anticipation of seeing my loved ones when they do finally emerge from wherever they've been all day, be it school or work. I'm always glad to see them.

It's World Building Time

2008-09-17T17:21:00.001-07:00

I've reached the portion in my new story where I'll be stretching and expanding my current creations. It's time for world building. I'm very excited because usually I love that portion of the other fantasy/paranormal novels I've read. There are authors who are particularly talented at this--Patrick Rothfuss springs to mind as does JK Rowling, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Octavia Butler, and the master--Tolkien, plus too many others to name.

So, I'm stoked about the descriptions, figuring out the particulars and getting everything just so. Hopefully what I'll accomplish is to make all the colors in my mind translate to the page.

Here's an article written by S. Andrew Swann that does a wonderful job of covering the comprehensive points that need to be heeded when world building:

http://www.sandrewswann.com/essays/worldbuilding

The Accidental Pitch Session

2008-09-08T14:20:00.000-07:00

As you know, I was recently in San Francisco for the RWA national conference.

On the final day of the conference, I slipped out of my next to last workshop for whatever reason about 20 minutes before it was over and headed up to the Starbucks on the main level of the hotel. It was probably 4pm and the last thing I should be drinking is a latte, but I want one and there I am. So, I'm squinting at the deserts and mutter out loud, but kind of to myself, "are those brownie bites?" A voice from behind me says, "you should see the calorie count on the scones."

I turn around and this extremely well-dressed, good looking, petite blonde woman smiles at me. Instead of telling her to mind her own business and let me lament the brownies in peace, I kick into caffeine-deprived nonsense mode. "You mean when I get to the counter, someone is going to tell me about the calories in that scone? Who decided that was a good idea? As far as I'm concerned, that's oversharing. I do not need them to tell me that after eating that scone, it might be a good idea for me to spend a fair amount of time on a treadmill. That is information that needs to be kept to oneself."

Blondie smiles again and says, "oh yeah, it has about 600 calories."

Now I'm just amused that she's so insistent on talking to me about the calories so the madness continues. "Well, it's bad enough that Paula Deen is trying to kill us all with her 'stick of butter' for every freaking recipe, now the Starbucks is going to bring me down by forcing caloric content on me? What has the world come to?"

Blondie giggles and says, "yes, but the risotto tastes so much better with that stick of butter." And I agree with her.

By now my latte and brownie bite have been rung up, so I wave goodbye and head back down to the ballroom level where my last workshop awaits me.

A voice from behind me says, "so you didn't save me any of your brownie bite?" I turn and there's Blondie.

"Hello, it was a brownie BITE. If it had been a brownie proper, I might have considered sharing but sorry....you're out of luck."

Now at this conference there were perhaps 900 women and many of them high powered authors, publishers, agents, etc. Throughout the conference, people would ask the question, 'what do you write?' meaning what genre, so it was kind of de rigueur to ask. Blondie asks me and I tell her that since just that morning I had the benefit of the genre-blending workshop, I wasn't sure but I think I write paranormal time travel romance. Then I reciprocate and ask what she writes. You know, being polite and all.

"I'm not a writer. I'm an agent."

I swear I did the Homer Simpson groan out loud. Blondie frowns at my groan and I explained that I'd spent the whole of the conference avoiding agents, not only because I came to work on craft mainly, but because it had been drilled into the virgins that we were to step away from the agents--don't talk to the agents, don't look at the agents, don't even think about the agents. The agents have their crucifixes out for fledglings like myself, so don't even try it.

I also explained that since I'm originally from the business world, the business part isn't the scary aspect for me, it's the other stuff and I'm working desperately to make sure that my manuscript is polished to a high gloss before presenting it to someone, anyone to consider publication. Then I say, "now I'm nervous."

Blondie smiles reassuringly, digs out her business card, gives me all the particulars of sending something to her and asks me to remind her that she met me at RWA. She also explains that she enjoys representing people who have 'personality' because let's face it--even though Norman Mailer was brilliant, watching him talk about his writing was almost like the setup to a prize fight. But I guess that's also personality of a sort.

Long story short, I take her card, find out from chapter mates that she's indeed well-respected and that I should make haste in sending whatever I am going to send. This does nothing to calm my anxiety because my ability to carry on witty banter and talk nonsense with strangers in Starbucks doesn't mean that I can string together a sentence that anyone would pay to read.

Anyway, Blondie has no one to blame but herself when my slightly hysterical query letter arrives. And it will also be her fault when at the next conference I attend, I immediately fill that bag made from recyclables with a Glenfiddich gift set, a box of brownies and the DVD boxed set of the first season of Mad Men.

You know, just in case I unknowingly chat up another agent. I'd like to be prepared with the swag to cover myself.

Playing Catch Up

2008-09-08T07:52:00.000-07:00

I'm finally almost all caught up after a harrowing last ten days or so. With the advent of a new school year looming large, I had the misfortune of coming down with a very nasty flu. The headache, dizziness and nausea that accompanied the fever and chills, made staring at my computer screen an exercise in pain. So reading, typing, blogging--all no go's.

I did get to watch a fair amount of tennis though. Even though my fave lost to her pesky little sister in the quarterfinals, I'm not completely unhappy with the results of this years final grand slam. Serena wears the mantle of world domination in the terrordome much easier than Venus, so I'm happy that Serena not only won at Flushing Meadows, she also regained her number one ranking. Now if Federer can win today, then all will be right with the tennis world.

Now that I'm recovered, it's back to research mode for me. I feel like a slacker because I'm researching three separate periods so that the story thread I've come up with doesn't sound too crazy, but I'm anxious to just get the words down on paper. I am utilizing my journal to write down the ideas that haven't been fleshed out just yet, but let's hope that I can stay on message and not launch into a parallel history of the world through my own slightly myopic eyes.

I promised one of my friend's that I would blog about my brush with an agent when I was at the RWA national conference but I think it's a long enough story for a post on it's own and I'll come back to that.

Off to Flushing Meadows

2008-08-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

The USOpen started today, so it will be tennis madness around these parts, elbowing all the other resident manias for space. I haven't been able to attend the open for a few years now, but I hold out hope every year that I might be able to attend once again. Instead, I'll be parked in front of the USA network following my usual regime of screaming, cheering, frowning and biting my nails while my favorites contest the last Grand Slam of the season.

Between matches, I'll be polishing my latest nemesis, also known as 'the synopsis,' so that I make my manuscript a compelling read. For the contest that had the earlier submission date, I'm just glad that the synopsis is not judged because I'm sure that the judges might feel the need to suggest a prescription to help improve my writing. But, my lovely friend Marilyn, rode to my rescue and sent a wonderful guide sheet that outlines getting all of the principal characters GMC and resolution down. Fingers crossed that I can encapsulate my complicated plot and make it flow.

Wanted to swap: My undying gratitude and/or cookies for a decent Synopsis

2008-08-19T07:21:00.000-07:00

I'm combing the first fifty pages of my manuscript, making it bright and shiny with the intention of entering said pages into two writing contests. Life was peachy and I was happy with all of the revisions--the revised opening paragraph and beefed up middle all made me smile. I checked, once again, the contest rules to make sure that I'd formatted correctly and removed anything else that might bounce me from contention before a single word is read by a judge. That's when I saw it.

The word 'optional' was GONE from in front of the word, 'snynopsis.' I've been working most of the summer to come up with the pithy, snappy, witty and complete blurb, hook or whatever you want to call it. So you would think that the freedom to spill my guts for up to five pages about my story would make me happy, practically giddy. But no, such is not the case. I'm terrified because I fear that I'll sound like a mental patient when describing my torturous tale. I have some time before the submission deadline and hopefully with a bit more hard work and some praline ice cream, I can get the dreaded synopsis put to bed.

Wish me luck and cake.

Following that elephant around

2008-08-14T09:04:00.000-07:00

I'm taking an online fiction writing class and I'm beginning to think that my dead brain cells count is much higher than previously thought. The format for our class is: write 2500 words, submit them to the class where a critique is provided on all the usual elements of writing and then it's off to try and absorb the high points of the discussion to make the passage better.

The story that I'm working on (and submitting for class) is a time travel, with a heavy element of fantasy but no demons or werewolves. I have the plot outlined where it makes sense, there are no holes that I can see so far and I'm keeping all of the characters' goals, motivation and conflicts in mind. So when the instructor or my classmates ask a question about my passage that I know is or will be answered in time, I don't panic. It actually makes me feel that I've built up the suspense for that passage properly so that it's the logical question in the reader's mind. I want them to keep reading, you know.

But here's my torment about my class. I'm not getting slammed for the writing--style or voice or my overly long, Dylan Thomas-esque sentences. I'm getting hammered because I am too stupid to put a comma in the right place and my paragraphing stinks. I'm sure that has become apparent from the way this post is blocked, so hopefully you can see my problem and sympathize with my pain.

Well, it's off to Borders to buy Eat, Shoots and Leaves and to look for my copy of the Elements of Style.

You Gotta Spend Some Time Love....

2008-08-01T22:23:00.000-07:00

That line from the Death Cab for Cutie song has been running through my head quite often here in San Francisco at the RWA National Conference. Mainly because the idea of taking time to make sure that everything concerning your manuscript has been lovingly reviewed and polished to a high sheen before sending said work off to the sometimes scary land of publishing keeps coming up.

I've heard it in many of the wonderful workshops dealing with craft (how to layer and texture your novel for high impact, guide to great beginnings and the art of voice) and especially the sessions dealing with the publishing industry. Deliberation, attention and diligence with your body of work seems to be key. Rightly so.

I can't begin to tell how excited I am to attend the conference this year. Meeting all the authors whose work I've read and loved is very exciting. Even though many of them have multiple works published, they've been very friendly and open to the first timers or Virgin Queens as I like to refer to the newly initiated. I promise that I'm paying attention and considering the things I've done right with my story already and contemplating the changes needed to make the things I've done wrong, right. I know, I know--getting that grammar book at the RWA might be a good idea, lol.

Wish me luck.

Writing what you Know

2008-07-23T13:00:00.000-07:00

I once read somewhere that novice writers are sometimes viciously bashed about the head and neck with the advice to 'write what you know.' In creating a novel, this could either be a blessing or a curse. If you're hoping to let loose your creative fancy and write about universes and creatures unknown, then writing what you know might lead you down the path to a brick wall. But it could also help make something not necessarily palatable to everyone, a bit more relative.

I take the advice to mean, harness your incredible flight of fancy with the knowledge of the things that are known. If, for instance, I'm choosing to give my space creature several arms and legs, then I'll let her feel the glide of cool water on a hot summer days over how many ever digits she possesses with the same appreciation as if she only had as many as I do and was able to splash and wade just the same.

I'm trying to adapt to the advice in ways that challenge me to make what I've written better, more sparkling and vibrant. We'll see how this goes while I'm slicing and dicing, shining and polishing the words.

Raison d'Etre

2008-07-15T12:39:00.000-07:00

Today I've been thinking about what motivates people to write. To take up their pens, sit at their computers, gather their thoughts and transform them into words on a page. Thousands of years ago when whomever (whoever?) came up with cuneiform writing, did they do so out of necessity or the great strain of all that oral history and tradition weighing them down?

Another blog that I frequent posed the question about whether or not writers would keep writing if someone told them basically that they had no chance of ever being published. It seemed the overwhelming response was that those who write, do so out of a desire to get their version or point of view or creative force out of their heads and someplace else, whatever that canvas might look like.

I'm revising a particularly problematic chapter and received some excellent help with that last night. But it occurred to me that critiques are not necessarily for the faint-hearted, which I am not--faint-hearted that is. So, while I try always to see criticism as constructive, even if someone says something that's not particularly helpful, I wonder if others feel the same.

I should also post the caveat that I have to shop for new pants and I'd rather stick needles in my eyes than shop, so that might explain the bleak mood today. I promise to be suitably silly and less pensive at a near date in the future.

The Offspring of Dorothy Parker

2008-07-10T06:52:00.000-07:00

I'm watching Gilmore Girls and marveling at how proud Dorothy Parker would be knowing that her particularly witty and snappy brand of dialogue is alive and well and in syndication. I love all of the quirky characters on this show, but surprisingly Mrs. Kim and her daughter Lane are my favorites. The mother, a strict parent and Seventh Day Adventist owner of an antique store is the perfect foil to her secretly rebellious, Joy Division loving, rock band forming daughter who has a whole cache of illegal booty stashed under a board in the floor of her room.

When Lane's cousin from Korea recoils aghast and in horror, in response to the french fries Lane has clandestinely offered her and says with a straight face that Mrs. Kim has told her that french fries were the 'starchy fingers of the devil,' I don't think I could draw breath for a full minute because of the laughter.

Naturally, instead of taking advantage of the few minutes of quiet here in the house by writing, I'm watching television. Harlan Ellison was right--I think we now know how the death of the dinosaurs occured. They were caught off guard by the meteor because they were watching I Love Lucy, I bet.

Chicago Tribune Book section needs your opinion

2008-07-07T07:07:00.000-07:00

Another perk to being an RWA member is that the chapter sends email with useful, interesting information all the time. Really. One of the members sent this link http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/booksmags/ where the Chicago Tribune is asking for opinions on their book section, so if you feel so inclined, click and let them have it.

I myself, am a Chicago Sun Times kind of girl where the awesome Neil Steinberg is a columnist. If you want to see writing where a turn of phrase or witticism is the order of the day, check out his column. I also am a great fan of Simon Barnes who writes for the Times in London. Both these gentlemen have made an art form of both entertaining as well as informing their readers and for that I appreciate and thank them.

Research and then research some more...

2008-07-07T06:29:00.000-07:00

In my effort to get my latest story out of my head and onto paper, I've been keeping an alternate plot journal. What that means is that if I can't see the story through to the end, or if the plot seems more like a premise then, I scrap it and start again. I've made some minor adjustments to the way things will play out but all in all, I'm on task.

I'm still doing research on some aspects of the mythology that I'm using and I'm excited that I learn something new about world cultures everyday. My Thursday evening writing class teaches me about writing technique and mechanics, while still allowing my unique style of sparse prose to flourish. If only I could be Marguerite Duras.

And now that Wimbledon is over, I can concentrate and write more often. If they would just stop showing those USOpen series commercials....

That's Five for Fighting

2008-07-07T06:21:00.000-07:00

So Venus Williams put aside her concern for her little sister's feeling for about two hours and won the Wimbledon Ladies Singles title for the fifth time. She's also made it to the final of that tournament seven of the last nine years. That's quite the achievement and just proves that she is probably the greatest grass player of her generation and with that wingspan and serve, I might make the case to name her the GOAT on grass. As a consolation for taking the big dish from her sister, she teamed with her to also win the ladies doubles title. It was a great weekend for me and I didn't have to strike a single ball.

Now for the men's single's title--Rafael Nadal wrested the title from Roger Federer in an epic final. I wanted Roger to win but Rafa deserved the win--he played within himself and showed the kind of toughness that bodes for nothing but success. Congratulations to him and let's hope that Roger can bounce back and win the USOpen.

Watching matches instead of washing clothes

2008-06-26T07:11:00.000-07:00

It's the early rounds of the Championships at Wimbledon and I alternate between being parked in front of my television watching matches or parked in front of my monitor following the scorelines. There's an excellent blog on the website called 'As it Happens' manned by the effervescent Drew Lilley which never fails to entertain. Another of my favorite tennis blogs is in the blogroll, GOTOTENNIS. It's the Federer nation over there, but very balanced and entertaining in respect to all the other players too.

My all time favorite, Venus Williams, won her match this morning but not without a bit of a struggle early on. The early rounds have produced some fabulous tennis--the Ivanovic/Dechy ladies match yesterday and even the Safin/Djokovic pummeling as well. The hunky Russian played as beautifully as if it were 2000 all over again.

An added benefit to watching the matches live, even with the time difference, is that I can get up early, get a healthy dose to feed my tennis addiction and then before the afternoon is too old, get started on the housewifery. Everybody wins--I get to watch tennis and still have time to make dinner without getting the fish-eye from the men of the house.

Listening and Writing

2008-06-25T10:27:00.000-07:00

I've got Santogold on repeat and she sounds so much like Siouxsie Sioux that I'm already half in love with her. But I digress.

I'm desperately attempting to organize my extremely disorganized thoughts and ideas for the chapter of my new story. I can't decide which to do first: a) let the interloper come into the room, pause and flashback on why he's such a poser; b) let him enter the room and approach the luscious heroine or; c) get myself a book on punctuation and re-read my copy of Stephen King's On Writing, toute de suite.

Great Interview with Lee Child

2008-06-25T10:24:00.000-07:00

In my local Sun-Times entertainment Sunday section, writer Kevin Nance interviewed Lee Child, author of the Jack Reacher novels which if you like crime fiction, are a must. I was really excited to hear that Mr. Child was a fan of the John D. MacDonald novels and his unforgettable character, Travis McGee. MacDonald had such a way with words, that I fell in love with his writing long ago.

A funny story involving my shared love of the Travis McGee novels with my husband, involves him describing me to one of his friends who had yet to meet me (before we were married) and the words he lifted were from The Girl in the Brown Plain Wrapper (or was it One Fearful Yellow Eye?)--he said I was 'the color of coffee with two creams.' I just smiled at him and knew then that we were going to get along just fine.

Okay, so getting the hang of this blogging thing...

2008-06-25T10:10:00.000-07:00

I've recently joined the Romance Writers of America-CN and I'm so excited because sight unseen, they have welcomed me, sent me helpful information and just generally made me feel very special. If any other writer wannabes like me are lurking out there, you would do well to look into membership. As it stands, I think that this might be the best hundred dollars I've spent in a long time (my gaze traveling back to the canary yellow empire sleeveless shirt purchased not long ago and obviously by an evil doppelganger who must hate me).

Back to the RWA--go visit their site and then find a local chapter who will help you with the business of writing and maybe even give you some chocolate as well.