Sigh. Poor neglected little blog sitting here all by its lonesome, wishing for some attention from me.
Well. Looks like I have some time for you baby. My corporate gig has ended and I have a summer of writing and publishing ahead of me (also taking on some paid editing gigs to help with the transition -- email me if you have need and want a price quote).
I love shoplifting, but have gotten away from posting my lifts here -- Facebook is just too easy to use right from a smart phone, I guess, and Blogger is not.
I love talking and writing about writing and the writing life, but I have let myself get so busy that I have forgotten what it's like to reflect and analyze and muse.
In any case, blogging can be a great part of the overall marketing platform for writers and has come up so often in the last few weeks that, FINE, OKAY, I'll get back to it.
In light of that, here's an article about blogging for authors -- let me know if you have any thoughts on this topic.
As for me, I'll be trying to figure out what the hell I will post about later this week......
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
You Know What's Great? (Post NaNoReport 2010)
I hereby report that I did not make 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo. I wasn't sure I would, or that I could, but damn I wanted to. I am a little disappointed in myself, but even as I write that I realize that I DID finish 22,000 words of a new project in one month. 22,000.
That's a damn lotta words.
In fact, 22,000 is probably the greatest number of words I've managed on a spec fiction project in a single month since...well, since I can remember. And it is no small accomplishment.
So, my excitement at seeing this project grow through November, and my now conditioned need to continue seeing the word count grow has led me to declare December DebNoWriMo...which basically means the rest of y'all can slack off, but I plan to grind out another 20,000+ words in December. And another 20,000 in January, which will be DebNoWriMo 2. At which point I will have achieved the ~60,000 words I estimated will comprise my first draft of Mantourage.
Then I will of course descend into editing Hell, which is where all the truly hard work will get done. But I am looking forward to that, my writerly friends. Boy am I.
To steal a motif from my pal Margaret: You know what's great? Learning the lesson NaNoWriMo has to teach us. That's what's great.
What lesson is that? That writers write, every day, every spare second, without apology, without battling their inner critic over every little word. That writers don't just talk about writing, they pass up lunch dates to get another 800 words in. That writers spend Friday night after work at their computer cranking out a pivotal scene instead of at happy hour with their degenerate colleagues.
This is a thing I once knew innately but which I had lost sight of. Thanks, NaNoWriMo for giving it back to me.
And now, back to it.
The Final Snippet: Why is it that our purchasing of lottery tickets must always be hindered by discussions of the supernatural? (I'd try to explain this, but it barely makes sense even to me)
That's a damn lotta words.
In fact, 22,000 is probably the greatest number of words I've managed on a spec fiction project in a single month since...well, since I can remember. And it is no small accomplishment.
So, my excitement at seeing this project grow through November, and my now conditioned need to continue seeing the word count grow has led me to declare December DebNoWriMo...which basically means the rest of y'all can slack off, but I plan to grind out another 20,000+ words in December. And another 20,000 in January, which will be DebNoWriMo 2. At which point I will have achieved the ~60,000 words I estimated will comprise my first draft of Mantourage.
Then I will of course descend into editing Hell, which is where all the truly hard work will get done. But I am looking forward to that, my writerly friends. Boy am I.
To steal a motif from my pal Margaret: You know what's great? Learning the lesson NaNoWriMo has to teach us. That's what's great.
What lesson is that? That writers write, every day, every spare second, without apology, without battling their inner critic over every little word. That writers don't just talk about writing, they pass up lunch dates to get another 800 words in. That writers spend Friday night after work at their computer cranking out a pivotal scene instead of at happy hour with their degenerate colleagues.
This is a thing I once knew innately but which I had lost sight of. Thanks, NaNoWriMo for giving it back to me.
And now, back to it.
The Final Snippet: Why is it that our purchasing of lottery tickets must always be hindered by discussions of the supernatural? (I'd try to explain this, but it barely makes sense even to me)
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Reaching Lofty Heights
The great thing about a writing retreat taking place at 10,000 feet above sea level is that it is extremely conducive to getting actual work done. Mostly because no one can breathe after taking a flight of stairs at the altitude (no one = me), and therefore are physically encouraged to find a nice quiet spot and bond with their computers, manuscripts or journals.
So, much work is getting done. By me.
I wondered before I came on this retreat if it wouldn't after all end up more like a really literate party than a working vacation thing, but have been really impressed at how much real work seems to be getting done by everyone. Lots of nooks and crannies here at the lodge for folks to hide away in. Still, plenty of socializing with like-minded folks is taking place, and what a treat that is. Whatever your 'thing' is in life, do not underestimate the power of like-minded groups -- to feel as if you have known people forever, whom you've actually just met, is amazing.
Plus, where else in life would one find a group of people who are familiar with the entire canon of Stephen King, and can discuss his short stories in depth?
I am a fortunate person indeed, to be in this place, at this moment, and at this point in my writing, and can only see good things coming from this time. Thank you's are owed, and are hereby proferred (and if you are an intended recipient, you already know who you are and how grateful I am).
I try to write every day, for at least a little while, and here, I have been putting in large chunks of writing time. When this interlude is done, I think I will find my small bits of writing will come easier, and I will, instead of looking for ways to avoid writing, renew my efforts to expand the time I can spend on it. Not because my committment is renewed -- but because I will feel a sense of loss at not doing it. It is addictive, with an almost physical response, seeing so many words flow so easily from myself when some days writing a grocery list can feel like pulling my own teeth.
Recently, I said to a friend, a self described word nerd, that while he likes playing with words (as do I), I like making them work as well. And right this minute, as I write this entry here, I know the joy of making the words work.
The final snippet: "All compliments shall henceforth be accompanied by a side of slaw." (From Matt, and also for Matt.)
So, much work is getting done. By me.
I wondered before I came on this retreat if it wouldn't after all end up more like a really literate party than a working vacation thing, but have been really impressed at how much real work seems to be getting done by everyone. Lots of nooks and crannies here at the lodge for folks to hide away in. Still, plenty of socializing with like-minded folks is taking place, and what a treat that is. Whatever your 'thing' is in life, do not underestimate the power of like-minded groups -- to feel as if you have known people forever, whom you've actually just met, is amazing.
Plus, where else in life would one find a group of people who are familiar with the entire canon of Stephen King, and can discuss his short stories in depth?
I am a fortunate person indeed, to be in this place, at this moment, and at this point in my writing, and can only see good things coming from this time. Thank you's are owed, and are hereby proferred (and if you are an intended recipient, you already know who you are and how grateful I am).
I try to write every day, for at least a little while, and here, I have been putting in large chunks of writing time. When this interlude is done, I think I will find my small bits of writing will come easier, and I will, instead of looking for ways to avoid writing, renew my efforts to expand the time I can spend on it. Not because my committment is renewed -- but because I will feel a sense of loss at not doing it. It is addictive, with an almost physical response, seeing so many words flow so easily from myself when some days writing a grocery list can feel like pulling my own teeth.
Recently, I said to a friend, a self described word nerd, that while he likes playing with words (as do I), I like making them work as well. And right this minute, as I write this entry here, I know the joy of making the words work.
The final snippet: "All compliments shall henceforth be accompanied by a side of slaw." (From Matt, and also for Matt.)
Monday, August 31, 2009
Change is good...right?
Nothing in the world is permanent, and we're foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we're still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it. If change is of the essence of existence one would have thought it only sensible to make it the premise of our philosophy.
~~W. Somerset Maugham
My life seems a bubbling cauldron of change, with those Shakespearean witches chanting over me "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble..."
So much change over the last few years, and not the little changes that we are all used to -- major, catastrophic, life upheaval changes. Writing helps, but really, some of the changes are so raw and so painful, or at least so mortifying, that writing them seems like ripping a scab off to expose the wound....perverse, and as painful as getting the wound in the first place. Divorce. Death. Financial challenges. Teenagers.
However, change is a continuum, and like anything you have in your life long enough and often enough, one can get used to change. Even maybe begin to embrace it. The Somerset Maugham quote above spoke to me this morning, reminding me that change is part of the cycle, and maybe the most necessary part. If we do not change and grow, we stagnate and wither.
I have much growing to do, as a person and as a writer, and I embrace the chaos. More changes will come, but I will try now to anticipate them, guide them, welcome, and maybe even seek some out. After many years of doing the same things over and over, living the same life day after day with none of the results or rewards I would have liked, I see only possibility ahead.
Maybe those witches merely salt the broth, add the spice that is necessary to direct us, rather than to thwart us. Either way, bring it on.
The final snippet: These are the glasses I would have if I were in control of my life (from Matt, who thought I would want to write this down, and who was right).
~~W. Somerset Maugham
My life seems a bubbling cauldron of change, with those Shakespearean witches chanting over me "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble..."
So much change over the last few years, and not the little changes that we are all used to -- major, catastrophic, life upheaval changes. Writing helps, but really, some of the changes are so raw and so painful, or at least so mortifying, that writing them seems like ripping a scab off to expose the wound....perverse, and as painful as getting the wound in the first place. Divorce. Death. Financial challenges. Teenagers.
However, change is a continuum, and like anything you have in your life long enough and often enough, one can get used to change. Even maybe begin to embrace it. The Somerset Maugham quote above spoke to me this morning, reminding me that change is part of the cycle, and maybe the most necessary part. If we do not change and grow, we stagnate and wither.
I have much growing to do, as a person and as a writer, and I embrace the chaos. More changes will come, but I will try now to anticipate them, guide them, welcome, and maybe even seek some out. After many years of doing the same things over and over, living the same life day after day with none of the results or rewards I would have liked, I see only possibility ahead.
Maybe those witches merely salt the broth, add the spice that is necessary to direct us, rather than to thwart us. Either way, bring it on.
The final snippet: These are the glasses I would have if I were in control of my life (from Matt, who thought I would want to write this down, and who was right).
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Eavesdropping for Fun and Profit
“There's nothing like eavesdropping to show you that the world outside your head is different from the world inside your head”
~~Thornton Wilder quotes
"And that's why I am single," ranted the aesthetically unpleasing hawk-faced woman, concluding what must have been a grand rant on the flaws of men, in a booming, masculine voice, shaking her head vehemently.
I wanted to run to her, to explain that whatever the contents of her rant had been, I could likely give her five legitimate reasons why she is single, none of which have anything to do with others, all of which had to do with herself, and all of which are likely fixable. (Hubris, anyone?)
But I didn't. I was eavesdropping, and one of the top rules of eavesdropping, after Do Not Get Caught is Do Not Engage.
As a writer, I am fascinated at the things people say in public, things which other people can hear. Sometimes I wonder if the speaker(s) are aware that they can be heard, or if they care. I tend to be loud when speaking and am sure I amuse people with that which falls unexpectedly out of my mouth, but on some level I am aware of this, and rarely ever say anything which I might find embarassing later. But some of the things I overhear....
Here's the thing: I steal that which I overhear. All the time. I scribble things down in a notebook, or if one is not handy, make a note in my cell phone as a reminder Not To Forget Funny Thing Heard At Coffee Shop. Sometimes these things show back up in stories I write, though not always in the same exact form.
In my cell phone notes right now, in fact, are two items said directly to me by a friend, to which I replied "I'm stealing that," and promptly wrote them down. I am happy my friends indulge me in this trait, which has been dubbed Conversational Shoplifting, by yet another pal, from whom I have lifted many interesting phrases, including the title for this blog.
Two stories I am currently working on, "Fate is an Alpha Chick" and "Dora Garcia Dreams" both started with phrases overheard -- that which I overheard served as inspiration for plot and character.
I find eavesdropping to be integral to my process as a writer, regardless of the fact that it is considered to be rude by many. I refuse to apologize for where the muse drags me. And the muse brought me to the Single Lady, who will likely show up in a story in the near future, in which I will likely be able as the writer to say all the things to her which I could not as eavesdropper.
What is integral to your process?
The final snippet: "You'll never guess what I got to smell!" (Overheard at Marlowe's on the 16th Street Mall in Denver)
~~Thornton Wilder quotes
"And that's why I am single," ranted the aesthetically unpleasing hawk-faced woman, concluding what must have been a grand rant on the flaws of men, in a booming, masculine voice, shaking her head vehemently.
I wanted to run to her, to explain that whatever the contents of her rant had been, I could likely give her five legitimate reasons why she is single, none of which have anything to do with others, all of which had to do with herself, and all of which are likely fixable. (Hubris, anyone?)
But I didn't. I was eavesdropping, and one of the top rules of eavesdropping, after Do Not Get Caught is Do Not Engage.
As a writer, I am fascinated at the things people say in public, things which other people can hear. Sometimes I wonder if the speaker(s) are aware that they can be heard, or if they care. I tend to be loud when speaking and am sure I amuse people with that which falls unexpectedly out of my mouth, but on some level I am aware of this, and rarely ever say anything which I might find embarassing later. But some of the things I overhear....
Here's the thing: I steal that which I overhear. All the time. I scribble things down in a notebook, or if one is not handy, make a note in my cell phone as a reminder Not To Forget Funny Thing Heard At Coffee Shop. Sometimes these things show back up in stories I write, though not always in the same exact form.
In my cell phone notes right now, in fact, are two items said directly to me by a friend, to which I replied "I'm stealing that," and promptly wrote them down. I am happy my friends indulge me in this trait, which has been dubbed Conversational Shoplifting, by yet another pal, from whom I have lifted many interesting phrases, including the title for this blog.
Two stories I am currently working on, "Fate is an Alpha Chick" and "Dora Garcia Dreams" both started with phrases overheard -- that which I overheard served as inspiration for plot and character.
I find eavesdropping to be integral to my process as a writer, regardless of the fact that it is considered to be rude by many. I refuse to apologize for where the muse drags me. And the muse brought me to the Single Lady, who will likely show up in a story in the near future, in which I will likely be able as the writer to say all the things to her which I could not as eavesdropper.
What is integral to your process?
The final snippet: "You'll never guess what I got to smell!" (Overheard at Marlowe's on the 16th Street Mall in Denver)
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