words

Yes, my main mode of writing a novel (or anything else) is via computer. It’s easy, and since I can type approximately 70 words per minute, if I get on a nice little writing jag, I can pump out paragraphs in no time at all. Everything is online these days…everything, including writing. If you’re a writer who doesn’t have a computer (horrors!) or Internet access (blasphemy!), you are an old-school dinosaur writing at an insurmountable disadvantage.

So yes, my laptop is my bestie, and thanks to the World Wide Web, people on every inch of the globe can read not only my words, but everyone’s words, if they so desire. Instant knowledge at the tips of your fingers, what’s more Nirvana than that? However… since my work involves heavy computer usage, my eyes get tired. I personally despise looking at computer monitors, especially after 8 or so hours of squinting into one at work. While the Kindle is nice, I find it difficult to read any words on a screen, much less my own. I haven’t mastered Scrivener, so I use Word which is the worst word processing program ever! It’s cumbersome, it’s hard to format (if you want to go beyond the standard 1″ margins all around), it’s basic, the dictionary and thesaurus suck, and well…I’m sometimes too tired by the time I get around to creating words on a page to fuss with it. I consider Word a necessary evil.

Call me old-fashioned, but I still write in notebooks. With a number 2 pencil – a Papermate Sharpwriter. (Excellent lead, sturdy eraser.)

First of all, there’s the notebook fetish. I love, love, love notebooks. My favorite for writing is the larger Moleskine with graphing lines, like the one pictured above. The lines keep my handwriting on track, plus, those squares are handy for plotting out scenes, easy to divide into columns, rectangles, or other shapes. I’m a pantser, so I don’t outline, but I can set scenes into this notebook. I need visuals and highlights and graphs. I might draw a scene, although my artistic skills are nothing to brag about. After I’ve got the basics down, I go back to the computer and type them into my Word document.

Each notebook contains all of the information I need for each novel. (I tried combining different stories in the same book; it just doesn’t work. Too confusing.)

I have notebooks of every size and color for other things. A small one always at the ready in my purse. Sometimes I’ll hear or see something, and jot it down so I won’t forget. (Because if I didn’t, I’d surely forget. I’m old, remember?)

I’m hoarding notebooks and pencils for the Apocalypse. Okay, so maybe when the earth is scorched and radioactive, I won’t have hands to write my stories. Still, it makes for a good excuse.

And yes, I am old school. I began writing before computers. I submitted my first story (typewritten) to a contest when I was 16, but before getting down to the typing (back then I was a terrible typist and my Remington didn’t have an erase mode), I worked my manuscript on paper many times before I committed to the final draft.

There is something about handwriting your work that makes it precious, especially when doing writing prompts. You might think the well has run dry, but give yourself twenty minutes to fill a page with your own handwriting, and it will be done. Staring at a computer screen promotes procrastination, at least, for me. I need the manual labor of writing to get me going. It’s also nice to see a notebook full, every page taken up with words and whimsy. You can see it, it’s tangible, you can feel it, not like you can when you open up folders on a hard drive.

So if you’re experiencing a slump, a blockage, or just want to try something different, consider handwriting in a notebook.

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fogThis is my heart. Gray. Lifeless. Foggy. Heavy like a wet sponge.

NO WONDER I CAN’T WRITE!

*palm slap to the forehead*

Those terrible occurrences of last year have followed me into this year. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.

I don’t know how life has spiraled so out of control. I’m a creature of habit; I’m used to a schedule, to relative calm. I like a quiet house and no worries. When things go haywire, I don’t like it. That old adage about how God gives only the burdens that you can bear is a bunch of hoo-ey. I could have freaked out and become catatonic with only one-half of the burdens heaped on my plate. I should have.

The most difficult item on my agenda was letting go. I had bottled everything inside me, worrying over things I have no control over. I’m a wife, a mother, a business woman, a gardener, an artist. I need stability to do my best job in all these areas, and I just wasn’t feeling it. The ground beneath my feet has been shifting like an earthquake rumbling, and it was all I could do to keep myself upright.

However, I am glad to report (after the first six days of the New Year – Happy New Year to me! – not) that things are beginning to look up. Many problems remain, but others are slowly untangling.

It’s almost the end of January. Winter has been a milder one than last year’s, although winter is winter, especially here in the Frozen Tundra. The days are getting longer. When it doesn’t snow and is terribly cold, the gray skies blow away, leaving a crystalline blue background and puffy white clouds. When the sun’s out, even 18 degrees feels warm.

I haven’t seen the crocus sprout, but it’s only a matter of time.

Hope. It’s what I needed.

Releasing the angst and admitting I’m not capable of changing others – I needed that, too.

I’m now going to get on the horse again – MY horse – and write. Run my own life for a change. Get my hands dirty, let my mind go wild.

I don’t know what just happened now, but I know I like this.

🙂

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Thank goodness 2014 is nearly over! Let’s break out the champagne and usher in the New Year!bloodorangemimoso

Okay, so that’s a blood orange mimosa, but you catch my drift. 2014 was a downer, a fallow 365 days of suffering, high hopes and expectations, with low production. Plus, I’m a year closer to death (or at least the big 6-0.)

Here’s how I hope to do better in 2015:

1. WRITE! WRITE MORE! Due to many unforeseen complications, I didn’t write many new words this year.

2. EDIT! EDIT MORE! This year saw me finally complete an edit for VY2. It took for-ever. My above complications made it difficult for me to concentrate.

3. RELEASE VY2! Yes, I’m fast-tracking this baby. I’ve been playing around with it long enough. However, just because I completed an edit (on Christmas Day, no less), doesn’t mean it’s ready for the big time. I’m guessing at least two more edits, maybe more, since I wove in another two characters and a parallel story line. (Can’t say much about it right now. But expect bigger things to happen to my girls.)

4. Somehow I need to get my life in some sort of order so that I can do the above mentioned three things on my list.

I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions, but I am a fan of setting goals and attempting to see them through to fruition.

I also plan on writing more online articles, so stay tuned.

And, to shamelessly mention during the last few days of this year, if you haven’t purchased a hard copy of Finding Cadence, you should do so through me. That way you’ll have an autographed copy in your hot little hands.

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I’ve been Facebook chatting with several people who are experiencing difficulties in their lives right now.

Suicides, break-ups, aging parents, adult children with mega-problems.

In my previous post, I mentioned that I have difficulty speaking. It’s not that I can’t maintain a conversation, it’s just that I’m not as coherent as I wish I could be. I rarely say witty things on the fly. Writing is a much better outlet, because if the words aren’t just right, you can erase them, make them better, add some zing and pizazz.

There are some things in your life you don’t want the whole world to know, but there’s a desire in all of us to hash things out, try to analyze and puzzle through to a solution. That’s why I don’t post my sordid business on social media, whether because I’m ashamed or embarrassed or afraid of what people will think of me. I realize that the private chat is more intimate, like having coffee with a friend. My friend with his break-up, I could palpably feel how upset and hurt and depressed he was. (His lady friend, I’m not so sure.) I felt the same with my suicide survivor. My friend whose daughter suffered domestic abuse, yes, I’ve been there with my own children.

What can you do? These are situations that YOU can’t fix. All you can do is listen.

The experts say that if you’re depressed, you should work out, fire up those endorphins. I did that for thirty days straight, and would only feel blah while on the treadmill. The rest of the time, I could have burst into tears at some sappy commercial, or if I couldn’t get a damned weed out of my garden. (Yes, it’s that bad.)

If you’re artistic like I am, you try to channel some of that angst and sorrow into something creative. My best poetry was written right after breaking up with a boyfriend. However, getting creative after an emotional upheaval is sometimes easier said than done. I found it so much easier to force myself to run 6 miles than I could to sit at my computer and actually write.

But I have to.

Because that’s what I do.

So I have pledged to get through this damned edit of Virtually Yours Forever by Christmas. I’m going to sit here for as many minutes, hours, and days as it will take and conquer this, to the exclusion of all other things. I love my characters, I love the plot and where it’s going, but like all writers, I have a fear of not being able to accomplish my goals.

But it’s the final trimester, and it’s time to push this baby out. And I’ve done that before.

Wish me luck.

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My good friends know that I’m depressed this winter, partially because of SAD and partly because of family issues.

I think of myself as a warrior woman. Machine gun me with nails, I’ll spit them right back at you. Say I can’t and I’ll prove that I can. I create out of a deep need to express myself, and with a vengeance. You can try to chop me into pieces, but like the burls of a redwood, I’ll just multiply and conquer you a little at a time.

But not this time.

Depression has kicked my ass.

So I have sought out help. I have medications, which don’t seem to be helping one bit. I have a therapist, but confronting the things that are bothering me results in a sob fest. I’m not sure if talking helps.

I’m not good at speaking. I never have been. I signed up for Mr. Dionysio’s speech class in high school and spent the entire semester in silence. When I took speech in college, I had one successful speech, one that was rather “meh”, and one where I bombed completely – end grade, B-.

I couldn’t speak on the phone, and therefore gravitated toward factory jobs instead of those involving customer service. I thought I didn’t like people, and that people didn’t like me.

(Imagine me now, on the phone all the time. You can teach an old dog new tricks.)

I’m not stupid, I’m in the low Mensa range. I have coherent, cogent thoughts. I read smart books, funny books, inspirational books. But speaking, either publicly or privately…I’m the stereotypical writer, an introvert who’d rather hole up with my laptop or pen with a hot cup of green tea by my side.

So I have decided to write (again) about these deeply seated feelings. Get them on paper. Because I sure as heck don’t want to burden my friends and family with the intimate details.

Plus I can’t.

Last night, I had a Facebook “conversation” with a friend in a similar position. I received more insight in that thirty minutes of back and forth than I did the last time I saw the therapist. Why? Because we were typing. I don’t think I could have the same conversation in person. I cannot verbalize my sadness. Not yet.

And this is why writing is better than talking.

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Don’t get me wrong; I LOVE NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, which starts November 1 and ends November 30. If you’re a procrastinating writer like me, you need every cattle prod or device out there to kick you into the writing mode.

This is not to say I don’t enjoy writing. OF COURSE, I enjoy writing. But having other responsibilities, what ends up being short shrifted is my writing time. This year, there’s been other factors as well. Family members in dire health. Business in flux. An incredibly Bummer Summer which resulted in lots of rain, an extraordinary flash flood, and resulting damage, which of course, takes me away from pleasurable activities and instead has me planning out construction worker schedules.

Here is why I love me the NaNo… It’s an extremely useful tool. Just like jumping on a treadmill exercises your body, jumping head first into the waters of NaNoWriMo exercises your brain. It introduces you to keeping a schedule. It gives you a not unreasonable goal of 50K words in 30 days. There’s a camaraderie of fellow writers, across the internet and across town, that cannot be beat.

I’ve participated in NaNo many times. In fact, because of it, I managed to complete three manuscripts that turned out (with much editing and fine tuning) to be decent novels. (Still in the editing phase on two of them.)

Last year, I tried it for a week, and then decided that editing the work I’d been suffering over since 2007 (Finding Cadence) had to take precedence over any new material. So I put that idea aside. For later. I like the story, I just can’t have three completed novels in various states of disrepair hanging over my head like a black cloud.

This year, my problems are much the same. I’ve been toying with Virtually Yours Forever (completed during NaNo a few years ago) for… well, forever. It’s time to clean up this tale of moms, the internet, and high intrigue and get this story nailed down and move on to the next project.

I can no longer tell myself that I’ll write more when I retire from this business. The sad truth is that I might have to work until I die. But I’m also a writer, and I’m not going to sacrifice my art for outside influences.

Not anymore.

So to all you writers out there who are participating in NaNoWriMo – Bravo! or Brava! Keep pushing on. I’m there with you in spirit, and I hope will have my edit complete by November 30.

 

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Yesterday, I attended my first Books and Authors Event at Leon and Lulu‘s in Clawson, Michigan. This store is trendy, hip, and sells everything from jewelry to clothing to furniture to toys. It’s one of my favorites, as my husband can tell you from our VISA bill.

I can’t even believe I went through the event; hell, I can’t believe I filled out the application. And then sent it in! And then was selected as a participant! As you might know, I’m rather lackadaisical about selling my work. (I’m also rather lackadaisical about writing – sometimes.) But, I’ve been in a slump since summer, so I’ve signed up for writing prompts, classes, and have committed to (somewhat) weekly Skype conversations with my editor to sort of kick start my juices. So I figured, might as well throw this event on the pile.

I had NO IDEA what to expect at this event. NONE. I had hoped to sell a few books, get my name out there. As with everything new that I do, I was petrified. And as with everything, in order to get rid of the petrification, one must dive in head first.

Leon and Lulu’s does a fabulous job of making all 50 of us authors feel comfortable. They provide food, coffee, water, even hot dogs! The friendliness relieved some of the sting. 🙂 After being shown my table, I set up.

booksandauthors

We had an hour after that to look around. While all of the authors were from Michigan, amazingly many of them were from Royal Oak. I found I was speaking with authors who were neighbors!

Some had many titles to choose from. Some, like me, had the one physical book, and the eBook. Some were traditionally published; many more were self-published. Most of the books were for children, picture and chapter books, many were mysteries, there were some non-fiction, and just a few novels.

If you’ve ever been to Leon and Lulu’s, you’ll know that walking into the store is a total assault on your senses. Bright colors, things hanging from everywhere. Add to that 50 authors and their many books, and even I was shell shocked. It was a long day, but it’s what I needed. Suddenly, I’m energized to get that manuscript out and start editing in earnest. I sold a few books, handed out a ton of business cards for those who wanted to buy the book in eBook format (one woman did it from her phone while chatting with me!), and made a few new author friends. I enjoyed it so much, I’ll definitely do it next year.

The only thing is, I need to have another book for next year.

Better get to work.

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