Good Day

I sat down to write at 9:30 PM tonight. I was expecting 30-45 min of attention, then off to bed. Now, at almost 11 PM I found a place suitable for stopping for the night. It felt great.

No magic epiphany, just the keyboard, music, and some uninterrupted time. I say on my futon with my compy propped on a foot stool. It helped finishing a very good Fallen Angel book: Highborn by Yvonne Navarro. It was so cool with characters I not only liked from the start, but I felt that I could believe. The girl, the fallen angel trying to redeem her way back into heaven, feels so real even as the author portrays her so far removed from our everyday world. I finished the 375 page paperback in about 1.5 days of reading. So glad I have the second one already waiting in the wings for me.

Also, I figured I would a shout out to my writing program. If there is anyone who likes to write non-linearly (like me) who should look into this program called Scrivener. The sheer power of the program, well, I haven’t even tried all the bells and whistles yet. But the backup, layout, formatting, and syncing processes alone sell the insanely reasonable ticket of $45. But the fact it can export into a completely manuscript formatted document in the format of .doc, .pdf, eBook, and Kindle. The last two alone are irreplaceable for anyone considering self-publishing. They are even working on a iPad app version that should be amazingly awesome once finished. Think of the power to take your work on the portability of the iPad with the syncing power of always having you labtop or desktop with you.

Anyway, looking to replace their old word processor should look into Scriviner and never look back.

For now, I am crashing. Another work day tomorrow then a wedding show this weekend with my husband to try and drum up some more photography business for the year.

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A Day of Stuff

So the day went by quick. Teaching, helping my team teacher get ready for some time off because her daughter is ill and needs to be taken to the hospital. Hopefully, its nothing major, but they do want a second opinion. Spent the time I had today writing a 750 essay for Forsyth County so, fingers crossed, I won’t have to drive an hour to work and back every day. Home and a quick nap because head/sinus stuffiness does NOT need to turn into sinus infection that involves doctors and time off work. Finally, racquetball and biking for my new year’s resolution and now bed.

Just not feeling the writing tonight. I thought with yesterday’s epiphany that it might come easily as well tonight. Alas, tired and achy has beaten out my creativity for the night. Tomorrow, first period will be taking a test. Maybe I will squeeze some writing time in then. For now, I will simply be a puny human and slink off to my heated mattress for the night.

Sleep well all.

Clarity and Calling

I once read that some famous author said that if you ever are faced with writer’s block, simply have whatever character is at hand walk through a door holding a gun. Not necessarily something that comes up too often in non-mystery/thriller/noir. But handy nonetheless. So my main, male, protagonist walked through the front holding a compact submachine gun with the crazy idea to save the world (ok there’s more than that, but you get the picture) and blam. The heavens opened up, light shone down on my keyboard, and I saw with the clarity of the clarion call of angels that I knew where I was going.

I had the twist I had been looking for how to put in since I found that these people might have more than a simple save the world story to tell. There’s this whole history and idea of a secret cult society I thought was simple fluff for Ceara, my lead female protagonist, to have an interesting past. Hell ya, it’s interesting. So Atlanta is getting a invasion of cult Demon hunters. This ought to be good.

And so to end the post, with another little over 1,100 words, I will do what I did when our NanoNapped group on Facebook needed some encouragement during November. Which is, post the last line you wrote, and I will take artistic liberties and add a few more sentences for dramatic effect:

“The dull metal blade glinted in the failing light. The stars were twinkling into existence and they lent a silver trace to otherwise boring steel. If I faced them, I could very well be forfeiting my existence. If they knew of the blood I had split, whether for the sake of saving a life or not, I might already be hunted…

…I wasn’t going anywhere fast without transportation though. I needed to see if any of our yappy, dog walking neighbors were trusting enough of their neighborhood to keep their keys in their unlocked vehicle…”

What a Difference a Day Makes

Corny but true. My mother always told me everything looks better in the morning. I don’t think she meant that morning light made good photographs. But in the wee hours of the morning, it truly can look the darkest before the dawn.

Another dreary weather day in Georgia meant cold wind, drizzle, and occasional real rain kept me indoors and made me sleep way past my usual awake time of 8 AM. Last night, I had basked in the new glory and joy of my first comment and like and follow for my blog. I loved being found and like the metaphorical hand out of the darkness, Carmen Lezeth Suarez, gave me a belief in what I was doing. And really, it was what she said that made it worth while. As a writer, as we are all writers in some way, we all want to know that we aren’t along in our struggles. That someone else, some stranger, may care what we are going through and simply say, “I’ve been where you are, and I have seen the other side.” A message of hope? Maybe, one would like the glass always to be half full. Mostly, its a message of companionship, understanding, empathy.

So I embarked on the day to simply enjoy my Sunday. I had school to teach for the following 5 days. 3 classes of children whom the system has convinced aren’t good enough to make it. 3 classes who complain so much I just want to scream at them somedays. 3 classes of children who tell me at least once a day that they look forward to my class for a chance to laugh and smile and feel understood.

I chilled. Sat. Lazed. Enjoyed. And, sometime, miraculously, through all that, another 1,000 words emerged onto the page. And I learned that my rut wasn’t just me, but it was the part where the story lulls a bit between action. Later, during editing, I will have to fix the pacing to make sure my reader doesn’t end up with the same drudery that I felt. But for now, those pages simply exist and that is good.

Tonight, I sleep. Tomorrow, I teach. And I simply have to remember that word count is simply another measurement of time. The journey there is the best part. (I mean if you start with cliche, might as well end with one too)

The Day After

I sat down last night to type at least 1,000 words. Yeah, didn’t get one. I got so wrapped up in research on fallen angels and bragging about this new e-book I found, that I was able to come up with every excuse except typing. I even watched my husband play Gears of War instead of writing. Not that I don’t actually enjoy Gears as well. Point being, I didn’t write.

Which brings me to the conclusion that my apartment is an absolute black hole for me to try to type in. Which sounds like another excuse, but one I’d like to think has a little more validity. I need a place to sit, with laptop, head phones and no pets, tv, husband, etc to worry about for an hour at a time. Starbucks comes to mind, but being a teacher all day throughout the week means that after 5 PM (when I finally get home) all I want to do is collapse horizontal on something soft. On some days even the carpet looks perfect. Therefore, going out to a store (my closest one being a hole in the wall with horrible seating) means that the options (and Georgia winter weather) are limited.

Not sure what to do about it at this point, but words to a page need to happen in any sense. I will try after I get done here. Yet, being almost 11 PM eastern time, no Starbucks are open and my nice bed is calling my name. But, I have procrastinated all day til just this very time, so I must write something or prove the bed right yet again. There’s ice coffee in the fridge and plenty of alcohol should I wish.

The only thing that needs to happen first is for me to go out and drag my muse kicking and screaming back into this story whether she likes it or not. Maybe her rants will help me anyways.

Starting Off

So, actually this is a little late to start off. But everyone needs a kick sometimes, and I think right now I really just need to start kicking myself — hard.

I recently delved into the world of NaNoWriMo this past year and loved every minute of the experience. Unwittingly, being a newbie to the cause, I zealously jumped in not caring that halfway through the month I was only about a quarter of the way finished with my characters. Not too bad, one would think, and as it was, I thought all was well. I hit the 50,000 word marker on November 29th basked in my glory and joy of finishing, posted on Facebook for my online love, and then told myself that a few days rest then back to the grind stone to finish the work.

It is now January 20th. I have only written 4,000 more words since that moment and I weep inside at what that means. The excuses pile up and all I wish for is another 30 days of writing bliss. Sadly, even by waiting for the next November, the Nano rules state that I must start anew, and though people that fudge the rules abound, I simply wish not to.

Therefore, after finding the most amazing independently published book I have read to date (and ranking in the top ten of best books ever for me right now), I have a new desire to finish something. Be it my publishable work, or something that simply got me started, I want those two words every aspiring author/writer wants to type: The End.

Here I will muse about the musing. Is this a stand alone novel or are my characters strong enough to carry a series? Is my heroine, Ceara, believable? Do I farm out the copyediting? to where?  Once finished, where do I go next? Can I really even finish this?

Maybe if I hold myself accountable to someone, even the ever elusive and intangible internet, something will get done. Here’s hoping.