Bathroom Humor

Today as I used the facilities and read a little CALVIN AND HOBBES, I decided once and for all that my mother is wrong. It isn’t uncouth to have books in my bathroom. Not when those books provide middle-of-the-day smiles.

These days I’ll take laughter wherever I can get it, even if it means me sitting there on the toilet, giggling at Hobbes leaping onto Calvin coming through the front door.

Finding Answers and Making Connections

Last night I read my WIP from start to finish (which sounds pretty impressive until you know it’s only about 5500 words so far), and was satisfied it’s solid. Solid enough to continue moving forward, anyway. But as I outlined the next chapter I realized I needed some basic info about the legalities of how a photographer makes arrangements to photograph people. Not in a studio but in everyday settings. So today I did an online search and came up with this great resource that led me to some unflinchingly honest portraits by Marc McAndrews. I emailed Marc and told him the premise of my story and listed my questions. He wrote back very quickly with friendly and thorough answers. The funny thing is, the photos he does are nothing like the photographer’s work in my story but I loved Marc’s take on the world, and so took a chance on him helping me.

It really is true that people are eager to share their expertise with writers, and I choose to believe this willingness to help is due to the universal love of books.

Now all I have to do is write the next chapter.

The Funnies Can Be Funny

My local newspaper has way too many comic strips. It’s an overwhelming mass of tiny-print strips that aren’t even funny. My family has ongoing discussions on what we’d love to cut and cut. But there’s good stuff out there, too. I love this little girl and her friend, Trout, and want to spread the gospel of “Agnes” by Tony Cochran. Laugh here and here and here.

Now wasn’t that fun?

Gay Rights, Part Deux

I wanted to add my thoughts after reading the remark from cocoskeeper regarding the Gay Rights postings. When I posted it on my journal, I knew it would probably be viewed as robotic/copycat posting, but I did it anyway because I think it’s important to stand and be counted. Gays are clearly the current societal scapegoats (although I think they’re getting nudged out by immigrants as the new scapegoat of choice)and it makes me sick. We’re embroiled in violence and ugliness here and around the world yet instead of working toward alleviating some of that hurt, people are expending energy to undermine love and commitment. Because, you know, we’ve got way too much love happening here on the planet these days. Sigh.

And this bears repeating:

“Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?” – Ernest Gaines

Gay Rights

“Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?”
– Ernest Gaines

wesley_1701 wrote:
“We would like to know who really believes in gay rights on LiveJournal. There is no bribe of a miracle or anything like that. If you truly believe in gay rights, then repost this and title the post as “Gay Rights”. If you don’t believe in gay rights, then just ignore this. Thanks.”

GAY LOVE NO THREAT TO MY LOVE!

Who Cares?

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
3,645 / 38,000
(9.6%)

So I’m creeping along on this project, reassuring myself that while the words are coming slowly, they are, for the most part, quality words. They are words that tell a story I care about and though I don’t spend much time thinking about potential readers, my gut tells me others will care about this story, too. And then just a moment ago, doubt started shouting at me from the wings, taunting me with “Yeah, well I bet Author X cared about his story, too, but that doesn’t mean anyone else would.”

Here’s the deal: I’m reading a YA right now written by a multi-published author I absolutely love and respect. He’s magic with the English language and writes emotions and humor and characters/stories so real you feel as if they’ve made camp in your solar plexus. And yet, as I read this book all I can think is “Yuck!” Not about the writing itself but toward the story and basic premise.

I haven’t read any reviews of this book because I always wait until after I’ve finished reading, but I gotta believe I’m not alone on the ick factor. So did Author X ever wonder if he’d be the only one to care about his story? And should he even waste time wondering?

I truly believe we write the stories we need to tell, so here are my questions: Have you read well-written books that made you wonder what could possibly have possessed the writer to tell that particular story? And if so, did you end up caring about the story?

Forward, March!

Not yet the plumpest manuscript but what I have so far feels solid. I think. We’ll see how it looks in the light of day but for now, I’m calling it progress.

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
3,137 / 38,000
(8.3%)

Vision Restored!

Because I have amazing eyewear people http://www.sportsoptical.com/ I was only in Blurry-Ville for about seven hours yesterday. The frame that broke was a limited edition but Andrea found another that was nearly a perfect match, Brett heated the plastic and put in my good lenses, and here I am after having WAY too much fun playing with the contrast settings…

Busted!

Had just gotten dressed, washed face, brushed teeth, and was drying off glasses before jumping back into my WIP. The glasses snapped in two. Am now wearing old glasses with old prescription, feeling woozy and slightly nauseous. Welcome to Monday……..

World Without Tears

This one’s for newport2newport because sometimes the best way to cleanse your soul is with a good cry. Here’s Lucinda Williams……..

If we lived in a world without tears
How would bruises find
The face to lie upon
How would scars find skin
To etch themselves into
How would broken find the bones

If we lived in a world without tears
How would heartbeats know
When to stop
How would blood know
Which body to flow outside of
How would bullets find the guns

If we lived in a world without tears
How would misery know
Which back door to walk through
How would trouble know
Which mind to live inside of
How would sorrow find a home

If we lived in a world without tears
How would bruises find
The face to lie upon
How would scars find skin
To etch themselves into
How would broken find the bones

If we lived in a world without tears
How would bruises find
The face to lie upon
How would scars find skin
To etch themselves into
How would broken find the bones

How would broken find the bones
How would broken find the bones

JoNoWriMo+1.5 Update

Creeping along in the story. So grateful for that solid first chapter because it kept me on the beam today. I realized I was diverging from the story, recognizing that icky “huh?” feeling, and mercilessly deleted a couple rogue lines that had no place in the scene. Then I got back on track.

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
1,631 / 38,000
(4.3%)

My Contribution to World Beautification

This is a view from my patio, taken in June.

My garden doesn’t look like this now – mums and asters are blooming today – but I wanted to document that early summer day because it holds only good memories for me. Mate and I spent afternoon on patio, talking and laughing. Watching butterflies flit from flower to flower, listening to bees buzzing and the snake slithering through the dry leaves alongside the patio. We relaxed into the little piece of beauty we’d created in our own backyard. It was a truly wonderful day.

Back in the JoNoWriMo+1.5 Saddle, Baby!

I hit a rough patch in my WIP and then realized it was because I’d strayed from the narrator’s voice. I needed to anchor myself in that voice so I went back and worked and reworked my first chapter to my satisfaction. The Voice is back and I’m writing again! Gotta start over with the meter but that’s okay by me.

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
889 / 38,000
(2.3%)

Peace.

Fearless, Part II

Saw this on HuffingtonPost right after my earlier post but didn’t know how to insert the video. Still haven’t figured it out (so if anyone can help me with my Basic Acct, thanks!) but here’s a link to this timely song from the amazing Paul Hipp:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/paul-hipp/fearless-song_b_30283.html

I recommend going to his site for his funny/scathing/insightful videos (I’m the Decider Koo-Koo-Ka-Choo; Dick Cheney Blues; etc.):

http://www.myspace.com/paulhipp

Enjoy!

Don’t Be Afraid

I can bring lip balm and toothpaste on the airplane when I fly out for the Rutgers One-On-One in October! The fearmongers have decided small quantities of gels and pastes are acceptable but just so we don’t completely let go of our fears, those items must be placed in a quart-sized zipped plastic bag, and will be screened separately as we go through security.

The mid-term elections are upon us and the obvious manipulation of people’s fears would be funny if it wasn’t so effective; Karl Rove knows exactly what buttons to push. We are a nation paralyzed by fear. And this administration knows that a frightened nation is a pliant nation.

I’m so grateful to Michael Moore’s BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE because he pointed out how the media work so hard to keep us afraid. I sort of knew that before seeing the movie when it came out but was still susceptible to those messages, but now that stuff can’t touch me. My mate watched the news last night and I caught the opening teaser with a woman saying “It was scary. It was very, very scary.” Then the news anchor introduced the opening story about four local government offices receiving white powder in their mail and again we see the woman telling us that it was very, very scary (in case we’d let go of the fear in the intervening seconds). I’m not doubting it was frightening to open that mail but let us form our own emotions, okay?

So I haven’t worked on my WIP since Thursday. I was at my local SCBWI conference this past weekend and felt a bit overwhelmed by it all but think I can jump back into it today. Writing a first draft can be a scary process but I think I can get past the fear…………..

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
4,924 / 38,000
(13.0%)

Wasn’t sure if I’d make the word-count today but got another 574 down on paper. I’m feeling wobbly about their quality but it’s a done deal and I won’t mess with them anymore today.

Slow but Steady

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4,354 / 38,000
(11.5%)

It feels so good to plug along on this project. 520 words written today. I’m not the kind of writer to get carried away in a whoosh of words and ideas. Not anymore, anyway. I’ve done that in the past and then had to deal with the aftermath of tangents and characters speaking/acting in less than thoughtful terms. I don’t mean I censor my characters but I have to move slowly while getting to know them so I don’t create a story that isn’t true to them. We’re all getting to know each other right now and I don’t want to rush to judgment.

Unfortunately, I now have this in my head. Everybody sing………..

Getting to know you,
Getting to feel free and easy
When I am with you,
Getting to know what to say

Haven’t you noticed
Suddenly I’m bright and breezy?
Because of all the beauty and new
Things I’m learning about you
Day by day.

Scary,isn’t it?

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
3,836 / 38,000
(10.1%)

So having completed my word-count for the day after surviving some moments of trembling doubt and insecurity about the way my latest project is unfolding, I sought other writers’ methodologies. This, from Arundhati Roy, explains the method behind her exquisite THE GOD OF SMALL THINGS:

“The only way I can explain how I wrote it was the way an architect designs a building. You know, it wasn’t as if I started at the beginning and ended at the end. I would start somewhere and I’d color in a bit and then I would deeply stretch back and then stretch forward. It was like designing an intricately balanced structure and when it was finished it was finished. There were no drafts. But that doesn’t mean I just sat and spouted it out. It took a long time.”

“When I write, I never re-write a sentence because for me my thought and my writing are one thing. It’s like breathing, I don’t re-breathe a breath… Arranging the bones of the story took time, but it was never painful. Everything I have – my intellect, my experience, my feelings have been used. If someone doesn’t like it, it is like saying they don’t like my gall bladder. I can’t do anything about it.”

“Only about two pages were rewritten. I don’t rewrite. It was just a lot of arranging.”

“As a very young child my mother gave me a book called Free Writing and we were encouraged to write fearlessly. The first coherent sentence I ever wrote, which is actually in this book, was written when I was five. It was about an Australian missionary who taught me. Every day she would say, ‘I can see Satan in your eyes.’ So, the first sentence I ever wrote was: ‘I hate Miss Mitten and I think her knickers are torn.'”

Wow. This isn’t how I work but since each book I write takes a different path, maybe someday I’ll have something close to this experience. I can dream, right?