Monday, July 30, 2007
progress: a few steps forward and a few steps back
If any of you see my July loping down some back alley (probably looking anxiously over its shoulder), please chase it down and send it back to me. (Use force, if necessary.) It ran out before its contract was up, and I desperately need it back.
Friday, July 20, 2007
how not to talk to a writer: part one
Not surprisingly, I spend much of my time at a slim desk in my bedroom, facing a few pictures of Paris and a host of inspirational writing quotes. (With each new dawn, every writer gets a second chance to write well.—Eric Maisel) When I do venture outside and meet new people, at church or among friends, the questions come up: what do I do, and how do I do it.
I’ve never thought of myself as easily offended, but I’ve been surprised at the way others talk to and about writers. It’s not really their fault: While a lot of people read books, most don’t know what to say when confronted by someone who writes them. Or, even worse, someone who hasn’t written one yet but claims she will.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
community for the rest of us
I’ve been running a bit ragged lately; we do that a lot, it seems. Last Friday night, we were five hours at a wedding and reception for a family friend, and Saturday was full of my sister’s wedding plans. I wriggled into a bridesmaid dress, and we browsed for reception centerpiece ideas.
Writing has been going well, too. I have completely redesigned my heroine. I figured her out! We absolutely clicked—I can hear her voice in my head. But now, my old ideas for the plot are toast, and I’m rethinking the course of the book.
Exciting stuff! Maybe too exciting. On Sunday, I wanted to curl up at home, be sleepy, and appease my introvert self. Instead, we spent the day out and about, but it was more refreshing than I expected.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
of fireworks past (happy independence day!)
It’s been a rainy Fourth of July for us, and our plans are up in the air. Or rather, non-existent. It’s just me, my mom, and my younger sister here. Adrienne spent the morning working at a busy café, and Mom and I have been writing. (Yes, I began the second draft! Over two thousand words, hooray!) Will we all scrape together enough energy to go searching for fireworks? Or make it a movie night? Not sure yet. But it makes me think about what we did other years…
I spent many Fourths of July watching fireworks at a place called Holiday Shores. We would park our car among the rest, and, not daring the mosquitoes in the grass, I perched on the edge of our Dodge’s warm hood, staring up at the sky. Partway into each year’s show, I would shut my eyes against the next several explosions, and then open my eyes as wide as I could, to fully take in the next burst.