Things I Will Not Leave The House For During The Polar Vortex.

Shoveling snow. Even though there is a 1913 city ordinance that says I need to clear my sidewalk. Even though that wiseass from down the street slipped and almost fell right outside my window. Because it is 22 degrees at 2 PM and the stupid snow is still falling and I’ll only have to do it again in like two hours and anyway I have vodka and Netflix. And my sweet cuddly kitty.

A trip to the gym. Because what makes you think I will go work out when I won’t shovel snow and anyway it’s 4:30 and I’ve been drinking vodka for two and a half hours. It’s like you don’t even know me any more.

Rescuing a friend stuck on the highway. Even though I would want someone to do it for me. Even though people have done it for me. Because I am a bitch with roadside assistance. And because I am cozy and warm and have lots and lots of lovely vodka and the snow looks better from inside my house.

Batteries for my vibrator. Even after the bitter disappointment of cannibalizing the double As from the TV remote only to spill vodka on them, and then to remember that I don’t own a television and they are probably more than 7 years old. Even though it’s only 6:30 PM and why do you care what time of day it is when my vibrator is on my mind? You’re very judgy.

Drinks with Friends. Even though I am an extreme extrovert. Even though I have not seen another living being since 10 AM. Even though I am halfway through the vodka. Because clearly not one of you freaks is worth braving the now 4 degree temperatures because it you were worth anything YOU WOULD HAVE ANTICIPATED ME RUNNING OUT OF VODKA OR YOU WOULD BE HERE DRINKING WITH ME. HAVE YOU EVEN MET ME?

Vodka. Even though the situation is dire at 7:30 PM. Even though the bottle has only two more drinks. Even though I am scant seconds away from moving on to Tier Two beverages, which include Bacon Vodka, Port, Blue Curacao and one drink’s worth of shitty rum. Because deep in my soul I believe I can make one spectacular drink with all of these and call it DEATH BY POLAR VORTEX BECAUSE MY FRIENDS ALL SUCK.

Food. Even though I am completely alone, friendless and vodkaless at 8:30 PM. Even though the spectacularly awesome DEATH BY POLAR VORTEX has left me befuddled and starving. Or maybe BECAUSE I am befuddled and starving. Because I have rice. And sardines. And Maraschino Cherries. And mushroom bullion. And mayonnaise. I WILL SURVIVE. I HAVE THE INTERNET AND I KNOW I CAN LIVE ON SARDINES AND MARASCHINO CHERRIES. IF YOU LOVE ME BRING ME FOOD. AND VODKA. AND BATTERIES. AND MAKE MORE EPISODES OF THE GILMORE GIRLS.

Fast Food. Even though it has been clearly demonstrated to me that living on sardines and maraschino cherries was THE WORST IDEA EVER. Even though the closest drive through is still open. BECAUSE THERE IS TWO FEET OF GODDAMN SNOW IN THE STREET AND I PROBABLY COULDN’T DRIVE IN THIS SOBER AND I HOPW YOU ALL ARE GLADD THAT I WIL DIE ALONE FROM INDIGESTION AND DEHYDRATION AND LACK OF SELF STUMULATION AND DEATH BY POLAR VORTES DRINKS AND MIXING BACON VODKA AND PORT WAS INCREDIBLY FUCKING DUMB AND THEY WILL FIND MY DESSICATED BODY FORLORNLY IN THE MIDDLE OF MY LIVING ROOM WITH MY STUPID CROSS EYED CAT SITTING NEXT TO IT BITCHING FOR FOOD.

Please bring tums.

(note, I will be posting some humorous stuff on this blog in addition to the writing and eavesdropping stuff I usually publish. Also no vodka was harmed...er...drunk...er....there was not an entire bottle of vodka available when I wrote this. The vodka consumption was greatly exaggerated.)

On Transformation

Woke up musing about change and transformation. I took a look back at some posts on my blog here, and I see that this topic comes up now and again -- makes sense. Life is full of change and therefore transformation.  Because what are we after change but transformed?

I am struggling a bit with the final edits on my novel in progress, and I think this musing today is the key.  While I have focused well enough on the plot points and driven the story from where I wanted it to start to where I wanted it to end, I think I have not paid enough attention to the transformation of the character -- within the small plot points and overall from the beginning to the end.

And I don't mean necessarily the kind of transformation that the caterpillar undergoes to become the butterfly. No, the changes in our lives are sometimes far more minuscule than a complete and utter re imagining of ourselves. More subtle.  The changes in our lives are a realization, the recognition of an absence, the small revelation of love where we expected none.

And yet we are transformed as surely as the caterpillar becomes the butterfly. The pre-transformative self is not our true self, I think. Our true selves are buried deep inside and we peel off layer by layer with each change and each experience, to become whatever remains, more essentially ourselves.  Oh and we fight this change, we fight the becoming, but it is inevitable that it happen, that we move forward, that we progress. That we transform, even if we go to this fate kicking and screaming.

For my writing time today I plan to comb though my plot, point by point and look for the opportunities to dig into the changes my character experiences, to allow her to transform into her own version of the butterfly, to find the truth of herself under the layers we have peeled back to get her from the beginning to the end of her plot line.

And sometime soon, maybe after coffee, I will spend a little time doing the same for me -- what have I transformed into, and what changes lie ahead. It'll be easier working with my character Else, because there is no need to fear her change, her transformation. And I tend to fear my own, a little anyway, even as I jump into the next adventures with both feet.

But it seems kind of dumb to fear the inevitable.

Happy words, folks. And happy transformations.

Randoms

(that's Random Shoplifts...clearly I need to be more specific for those of you whose minds gravitate ever gutterwards).

~I have verbal jiu jitsu. Talk jitsu. (Deb) jitsu... (put my own name in th eplace of the original speaker).

~I will f**k money ANY time.  (some people clearly have more interesting sex lives than....well, than me for one...).

~The only reason anyone puts money in the market is that it's the only place TO put it.  (Yeah, whatever.  There's always the mattress and the underwear drawer...why you gotta be so narrowminded).

~Good priorities and a Jesus liver -- that's really all you need in life.  (no explanation, hah).

X's and O's and Words!

d

Getting Stuff Done (or: Recovering from Life's Detours)

Tough summer.  I had a a full schedule of planned projects -- catch up on some tasks for my publishing business.  Finish polishing two book proposals. Finish finally my own novel.

Life often has other ideas for us, especially when we make plans.  Mix in an unexpected death, news that an old friend is very ill, The Boy (tm) heading off to University, and well, the best laid plans of mice and Deb are often gone awry.

I wrote recently about perfection -- how the pursuit of it can be self defeating.  And I forgot -- even after I gave myself permission to just do the work and find perfection in what I do rather than try and get it to match up to an arbitrary definition -- I forgot to really give myself permission to be imperfect and found myself in a little bit of an emotional tailspin. And mad at myself for it.

Yeah. I kicked myself while I was down.

Sigh.

We so often are our own worst enemies.

I recognized mid-kick what I was doing and I have moved away from that behavior.  Mostly.

And I am a writing fool at the moment trying to meet the self -imposed deadline for finishing the novel EVEN THOUGH it will be hard and require ~2,000 plus words a day to do it.

But I will because it's important to me.

So here are my takeaways from the summer:

~Sometimes shit happens that guts you and you can't do a damn thing about it.

~Sometimes you tailspin. And that's okay, because you are experiencing your own life, which means you are living it.

~Sometimes you kick yourself when you are down.  Stop it.

~Sometimes you are your own worst enemy.  But what would life be like if you cultivated yourself as a friend the same way you cultivate others? How much magic?

~Do the stuff that is important to you.  Encourage yourself the same way you encourage others.

Kind of glad it's a new season.

Good words,

d

Reflection on Perfection

You have a perfection complex? I sure as shit do.

Sometimes I really think I should just throw in the towel on this whole writing thing....I will never be as good as some of my favorite writers.

Sitting on the beach this week during a suprise Florida-Jaunt, I read Chuck Palahniuk's "Diary".  And. Oh. My. God.

I mean, not everyone will like the voice he uses...it's unique and a little tough to get into, but so damned sublime in execution.  Perfection.

I will never do that.

Then I thought about how perfect this image is -- a picture I took while sitting on said beach. Then I started picking apart my photography skills (which are, sadly, nonexistent).

And then I had a revelation. Yeah, the boat on the beach is lovely, relatable, and I managed to get a bit of the pier in the shot -- it is a moment of peace and serenity and perfect-like in at least capturing the moment. And it's okay if it isn't the same shot someone else might capture in the same moment. So many potential variables.

What if.....

What if the whole perfection-thing is just sorting through so many potential variables until a set just coheres and captures something...SOMETHING...and it doesn't really matter which set of variables as long as it does the capturing part and the cohering part?

What if....

What if I have been chasing an elusive perfection thing which is unattainable because my definition of it is based on capturing an array of cohered variables that SOMEONE ELSE has seen, and I can NEVER EVER EVER see things the same way as them, and therefore that piece of perfection is just...

Not...

Ever...

Gonna...

Happen....

What if....

What if I gave myself permission to just seek out MY OWN VERSION of perfection and the hell with anyone else's eyes and thoughts....maybe Chuck Palahniuk inadvertently gave me permission to write my own version of the world and know that somewhere, somehow, some other person in the universe will find THAT to be perfect, coherent, sublime, relatable.

What if?

Discussions on Query Letters

From some correspondence I shared with a writer recently, as part of my involvement with Delve Writing:

Hey, (redacted)!  Super excited to hear you are starting the query process!

 

With few exceptions, your query letter will be one page, starting with a paragraph explaining why you are submitting this particular project to this particular agent -- it is typical to have done some research and be able to discuss why you think, based on other books they have represented, this book might interest them and fit their client list.

 

This should go something like, Dear (Agent), I am writing to present for your consideration my 85,000 word YA manuscript (title).  I really enjoy the work of (one or two authors on his or her list), and I feel that (title) might be a good fit for your company because it deals with the same (age group, genre, snarky approach to the universe with an absurdist edge).

 

In other words, drawing comparisons and parallels to other works the agent has sold.

 

This is typically followed by a very high level synopsis that relates the plot of your book. Not the theme -- just the plot, though you can imply the themes through this very short synopsis.  An agent or editor at this point is less interested in theme -- they will get that when they read the manuscript, assuming your plot concept interests them enough to request the full and read the story.

 

You want enough of the plot that the agent has an idea of the entire story.  This isn't the time to be coy and withhold the ending.  But also this is like an expanded version of your pitch -- what you do in your logline in two lines you can do here in 5-6.

 

Resist the urge to use marketing copy -- don't say things like -- This very exciting story will keep you on the edge of your seat, rollercoaster ride of the heart, etc.   It is not yet the time for that language.

 

For instance: A lonely girl who longs for adventure finds herself ripped from her farm life in Kansas and thrust into an amazing fantasy land filled with witches, magic and Munchkins.  But underneath the beautiful veneer lurk many dangers for Dorothy, including a wicked witch who wants her newly magical shoes -- and wants her dead as well.  Through a series of adventures, Dorothy acquires the allies and the tools she will need to confront the wicked witch, , change the destiny of a nation, and maybe even get herself back to Kansas.

 

Finally, you can sum up with a bio on you -- your writing credentials, your background, platform -- selling YOU as the writing or this particular story and making a case for being a good potential working partner for the agent.

 

Close with your contact info.

 

Happy query writing!

Outside The Comfort Zone

It's so easy to repeat things -- stick with what one is used to. Visit the same restaurants, order the same food, take the same path to work, sit in the same chair or spot on the sofa.  We are, I think, creatures of habit, even the most spontaneous and adventurous of us.

Mixing in new things -- foods, venues, habits, goals, seems so important therefore to keep our brains from settling into ruts. Even enjoyable things can be ruts.

Trying to take some different tactics with my writing -- where I am while I do it. What approach I take to tackling the blank page. Pushing the limits of what I am comfortable with writing -- I tell people all the time that their best writing will feel vaguely uncomfortable to them because it is pushing their limits. Trying to put that into practice myself.

What are your writing ruts? I mean comfort zones?  How to you pull yourself away from them?

Love and words,

Deb