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Sticking Around
I’m thinking about changing the focus of this blog… again.
My poetry would like an online home, and it doesn’t fit the other blogs, so this might be the place. There won’t be much, especially in the next month or so while I throw myself on the mercy of NaNoWriMo.
By the way, NaNoWriMo has absolutely no mercy and refuses to let me rest until the very end, and that’s why I love it so.
It’s Not Always About Writing
Not everything in my life is writing centered, which may or may not explain why I’m not a published author. There are times when I don’t want to write, not because I can’t, because I just don’t want to write.
I suppose I could explain a lot in one simple… ok, several fairly simple sentences. Everything is linked, is it not? Everything we do, or everything that is done to us (with or without our permission) can, and will affect us. So, my simple statement is this: I live with an alcoholic. It was my choice, although I will admit to not realizing how bad it was when she moved in with me.
We’ve been best friends since way back (30 years or more), so when I came out of the closet she was one of the first I told. She eventually admitted the same and after my divorce, we felt it was only natural for us to share… life. I knew she drank a lot, but it wasn’t until I saw it up close and personal that I realized I had bitten off more than I could chew.
Yet, my love continued. We had a very tumultuous first eighteen months, with screaming matches, broken promises, and a heartache so deep I thought it would kill me. It didn’t kill me after all, and things began to get better.
Then I made a huge mistake. I created a couple of characters for a story that were/are a little too close to “us.” I love the plot (fantasy/sci-fi) and the supporting characters. But whenever there is trouble in paradise, my main characters withdraw into the deepest part of my mind and refuse to come out.
Note to self: never do that again.
Anyway, my partner had been dry for several months and things were going rather well. Then we discussed the possibility of having a glass of wine every so often, or a drink now and then.
I craved normalcy. I longed for evenings with a glass of wine in hand and favorite music in ear, and my best gal and I laughing and enjoying the moment. I longed for those evenings when a couple of drinks would fit the bill and the light buzz would lighten the mood.
My heartache had dimmed and so had some of the memories. I acquiesced and a bottle of wine was opened. Well, a bottle of wine and a can of worms. The drinking is starting to look familiar, and while she insists she’s not the same person, not even the same drunk that she was last year, that heartache that I thought was gone has returned and now I fear what may come next.
It is a familiar path, one strewn with sharp reminders and lined with longing. I long for the day when I can leave the house to visit friends and not worry that I’ll be coming home to a drunken partner. I long for the day when I won’t wonder where the bottle has been stashed and worry every time she goes into the bedroom.
It’s times like these when I find my finger hovering over the “delete” key and the cursor pointed at the manuscript.
Old Notebooks
I am a self proclaimed notebook junkie. Every new project usually gets it’s own notebook. Sometimes it even gets it’s own pen (which magically ends up living somewhere else). Pens and paper are my weakness. If I had to choose between a bar of my favorite chocolate and a virgin notebook with perfect pen… I’m afraid I’d have to leave the chocolate behind and leave, clutching the new paper close to my bosom.
Which leads me to the next problem I have… WHERE THE HELL DID I PUT ALL THOSE DAMN NOTEBOOKS??? No, seriously, I cannot find any of them, at least, not the ones I want when I want them. Oh, sure, I’ll stumble across a dozen random spiral bound goodies, each one filled to the 1/3 mark before something else came up that required a notebook of it’s very own. Oh, I’ve tried just moving to another part of an old notebook and putting the new stuff in that, but there’s a part of my brain that says, “What if you need more room for the first thing, hm? Then you’ll wish you hadn’t done this.”
What this leaves me with, however, is treasure. Old notes for vacations long in the past. Phone numbers with no names, random lists of things I was either supposed to do or buy, or notes I took during a conference or class. I love those last ones, especially when I’ve enjoyed the class and ended up taking decent notes of it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t give my notes themselves credit for remembering, just the way they trigger the memory of an excellent lecture.
Then there are the poems.
I do not fancy myself a poet, but there are times when poetry is the only way to get a point across, or an emotion out of my heart and onto paper. I actually have a dedicated poetry notebook that I keep in my car. It’s not very full, and not all of the poems are finished (nor will they ever be, I’m sure), but I still like reading them.
Maybe I’ll get up the courage to share them here one of these days. Maybe.
Poems… they can be so damn personal…
The Dust is Thick on This One
My plans for this blog had been to keep it and use it sort of like a writing diary. Nothing like the more serious stuff on A Novel Place, just what I’ve done, changes I’ve made, maybe even toss in some fiction pieces here and there.
I’m not sure that’s going to happen here.
Trying to figure out what is going to go where when you have three blogs is like… oh, shit, I have no idea. Suffice it to say, I’m having a difficult time getting all my ducks lined up in neat little rows.
I want to write the life blog (but I’ve not done much there)
I really want to make the writing blog (A Novel Place) a place to go for writing…uh… stuff (you know, advice, commiseration, empathy, sympathy, editing help, you know… writing stuff.
This blog?
This blog sits here, patiently waiting for me to figure out what I’m going to do. Maybe not so patiently, since the name screams at me every time I tap the drop-down menu in my browser. It’s like avoiding that acquaintance who thinks you’re best buddies just because you bought them a cuppa coffee once. Years ago.
So, the question arises, am I going to make something of this (even if it’s just the ravings of a mad writer) and become its friend, or look it right in the eye and say, “we’re finished”?
All these blogs! Just how faceted do I think I am, anyway?
It’s Like Moving…
I hate moving. Changing residences is one of my least favorite activities, which is why I have done it as little as possible in my lifetime. When I was a kid, I wanted to move. My parents balked. My parents were wise. Packing is a pain, but figuring out where to live and how to unpack all those boxes is the worst part.
What I’m really saying is, it’s taking me a little bit of adjustment to switch gears and not start sharing the latest Oh My Brains! moment from the chaos surrounding me.
So, in order to truly divest myself of that way of thinking, I’m wondering if we should change the address to this blog. Instead of it being yet another “Ms. Karen blog” with the accompanying baggage that entails, we choose a name (and URL) that is better suited to the topics we want to cover. And before anyone accuse me of talking like royalty, I’m including Selma in the “we” bit, ok?
What do you think, Selma, my partner in crime. How about you, Heather? D? Any thoughts on this? I’d love your input.
Also, anyone with more clues than I have about operating the WP format (which I realize would be anyone with a pulse), I’d really appreciate some help figuring out how to install columns for different subjects. I’d love to get some links set up, some additional pages on static topics (maybe a Q&A forum type of, uh… thingy…see? My techno-dorkery is showing again), and, um, some other stuff.
Because I’ve been writing, and it feels really good.
P.S. And by the way, Selma is brilliant with the headers. I love this one, m’dear. Very nice!
Changing Focus
For a while now, I’ve had two blogs. Ok, technically there are three, but one of them has only one post and the only reason it still exists is due to sheer laziness on my part. Hitting that delete button takes a lot out of a person, you know.
But lately my life has taken several changes, many for the best, and one of those changes is to include more writing in my days.
Let me rephrase that. I want to include more writing in my LIFE. If I want to be a writer, the kind of writer where I can earn money doing what I love, then I need to pay more attention to that part of my life. Sharing the silly stuff that happens throughout my days with the blogosphere is fun, and I’ve loved it. But I wonder if it’s undermining my other writing; instead of putting those moments into a story, I put them on the blog and that’s where it stays.
It’s like eating candy all day, every day: I may enjoy it, but I wouldn’t get any nutrition. It is time to make some sensible choices and put some fiber back into my writing diet. So, I’ll be quitting the other blog. To be honest, I know I’ll miss it, but this is what I want and where I want to be.
It’s who I want to be.
This blog will also see a couple changes from me. I’m going to post writing ideas and prompts, a smattering of fiction samples and, if I’m lucky, some critiquing samples as well. Selma will be back with her wonderful posts and maybe we can wrangle up some guest posters as well.
Give me a little more time to wind things up over on the other blog, and we’ll be back, full swing and ready to roll.
Seeds for thought:
What if, upon opening a familiar door, you found yourself face-to-face with the unexpected and unknown. Instead of your own living room filled with your family, you found a totally different space and group of people. You don’t know them, but they know you… What would you do?
Still Writing…Sort of…
I don’t know if I can blame it all on the new computer, but my online writing has really fallen off lately. My job can take some of that blame, as well as things happening on the home front, so I guess I can’t go pinning my lack of share-able brain drivel on any one thing.
But the computer and I are still busy trying to figure each other out, and that takes more time and energy than I have right now.
However, I do know where my manuscripts are and I have a pretty good idea of how I can yank them from their back-up files and get them settled in their new digs. It’s just, well, I haven’t done it yet. Which leads me to my next problem and that is a particular document with important details about the manuscript that I must fish out of my new hard drive and access it.
It’s the file containing vital information on my characters, from race to names, species to talents. Yeah, it’s THAT important.
The reason this has been such an issue is because I ended up with two computers, although the one I refer to as “the baby beast” is a netbook that I use only for writing the manuscripts, accessing email, and carrying around pictures that I want to share when we’re visiting family. The problem is, all of my data is on the desktop unit and I’ve not transfered anything to the portable machine yet. So, I’ve hit a block caused by the question: What did I call it and how did I spell it?
In this case, “it” can be just about anything mentioned in the first manuscript, vital but infrequently-used information that I really need for the sake of continuity. It’s kind of like misplacing your wallet right before you go to the store. Not much is going to happen until you find it.
But I have been writing, working on the second installment. I’m reaching the point where things are coming to a boil and now I must write fight scenes. Two of them, and to be perfectly honest with you, I hate writing them. I don’t know how to fight, and since the characters are fairly well trained in self-defense as well as offensive type hand-to-hand combat, I can only go by what I’ve seen in the movies (stupid stuff, but helpful in a way) and what I would do in that same situation.
Ok, what I would do is probably sit down and cry because of the pain or out of sheer terror, therby ending the scene before it even starts, so I’m going on the theory that I’m tougher than that and I fight like a girl. But the scenes are hard and tend to be short-lived. If you’re looking for a long, drawn-out battle, don’t look to me to write one.
They. Are. Hard.
Last night, I finished the first one in an hour. There was about one page worth of words as a result of that one hour of fevered writing, and it will need some serious attention later, but at least I have most of it where I want it: out of my head and into the document.
As I approach the end of this manuscript, it is clear that the path is being set for the next book (which I will start in November, yay NaNoWriMo) and the characters will march forward and collect new friends along the way. New friends, and old enemies…
Treachery is in the wind, new alliances may not be quite as golden as they seem, and discovery continues on many fronts. In case you were wondering, Amantha and Prince Hector just might find themselves embroiled in something far different than a simple walk through the woods.
I think this catches me up a bit.
What about you? What traps have you set for yourself in your writing?
Meltdown
Well, thanks to a catastrophic error on my hard drive, I’ve been rather busy trying to get my writing sorted out and back in some semblance of order.
I had to go out and get myself a new computer, and now I’m spending inordinate amounts of time scruffling through the data the nice computer guys transferred from the old machine and put “in an easy to find place.” Yeah, it’s easy to find, I just can’t figure out how to put it where I want it. Or open it once I find it.
Oh, and the system program itself is different and I can’t figure out how to find a darn thing. Evidently someone thought I wouldn’t need to know any path names for my data. Awesome.
The good news is, the manuscripts survived the death of the hard drive and are living in a state of suspended animation in the new computer and a flash drive. It’s a rather quiet existence where ideas drift aimlessly around waiting for someone to do something with them.
Sure wish I could help them out.
In the mean time, I’ll keep picking away at it and eventually I should have some idea of where my stuff is and how to access it.
Writing Resolutions
Happy New Year!
Tis the season of resolutions. I don’t know about you, but I vascillate between making them and avoiding them like the plague. While I do like setting goals for myself, I resist making resolutions because they are public announcements of changes I want to make. After that, I feel like I’m sitting under the microscope where everyone is waiting for a fail.
Lots of folks make resolutions, which I find both endearing and amusing. After all, most people resist change with everything they have, yet this one time each year will find them out there resolving to do the one thing they resist the most: change.
But change we must if we’re going to progress, and quite frankly, I’d like to make some positive progress in my writing life, so… here come the resolutions:
In 2010, I resolve to:
1. set aside one hour a day to devote only to writing. I’d go for more, but with a new job taking up a lot of time and energy, I’ll settle for what I know I can do. But, I’m also going to allow myself to add more time as I can.
2. make some progress on my manuscripts. One needs to be cleaned up and given a final tweaking, while another is in the first draft stage and needs a LOT of work. But some progress, any progress, is better than none.
3. stop looking at how much work is left to be done, and just get in there and do it. Even working on something a little each day means that eventually it will not be such a huge task.
4. forgive myself if I don’t get that hour of writing every day, or make the progress I thought I should make. It’s a goal, not a law. Missing days of writing will not ruin everything except my momentum. Dwelling on the failure, however, can be catastrophic to an unfinished work. Cutting myself some slack will allow me to shrug off the delay and get right back into the thick of things with no finger pointing.
5. enjoy writing. It’s not a drugery unless I make it that way. Keep it fresh, keep it pleasing, keep it alive.
What about you? What are your writing resolutions?
