Back on the wagon

My Wrath of Gods DVD contained no data so I opened up my documents and plunged back into Alex's story. It was so much easier than I feared. Perhaps the contrast between the two men - one fictional, one who plays fictional characters - was what I needed to give my brain a break.

I wrote for an hour yesterday, another hour today. Because I don't have Sven breathing down my neck, judging my word count, the pressure is off. The words are coming smoothly, the scene playing out in front of me. Writing is a pleasure. Not that it had stopped. It was simply a matter of too many demands on my time and writing was the only thing I could afford to put on hold.

It helped that my wireless keyboard was able to transcribe the shower scribblings instead of me unhooking everything from the laptop and hauling it in there. It also helped that Alex was still slumped in front of the picture window staring at the turbulent river. It took a bit to rouse, then dress him but I had fun with it.

Day two back at the keyboard and Alex is down at the bar with the demon drowning their sorrows. I may just join them for a pint after work.

The zoo, Gerry and Alex

I can't get enough of Gerard Butler these days (movies that is) and it's gotta stop.

I need to start writing again soon. I'm afraid if I stop for too long I'll never get back to it. All the dark Scot distractions have obscured my love for Alex.

It's not all bad. My little zoo loves how much time I've spent in front of the television watching DVDs. Parrot on the shoulder, cat on the lap and dog at my feet while I continue to learn subtext. Dear Frankie is still my favourite but there are some excellent Looks in everything else I've watched.

I just popped Wrath of Gods into the DVD player. Once it's over, I have to abandon Mr. Butler for awhile. I've been studying his subtleties and nuances as well as his humour but seriously who am I kidding that it's all for the writing?

Alex is nothing like him physically though I hope he has the integrity of his characters. Blond shaggy-looking athletes are more what I need to be focused on. Got any ideas? Tao Berman doesn't fit the physical profile either but his kayaking skills shaped Alex so maybe it's back to youtube.

I have to admit I'm in a happier frame of mind, partly thanks to my mini film festival. Alex and Nea are still miserable but I have pulled back far enough to be able to write their misery with a level of objectivity I had lost in all the chaos of my home. The house is finally clean and reasonably organized. I hope my brain is as well.

We'll find out tomorrow when I get back to the story. It should be interesting, even if it doesn't star Gerard Butler.

Thanks to all the Gerard Butler fans who popped over after my comment about The Look. Had I known you were all going to visit, I would have written a better post.(Check out the video link below. It's just for you.) It was a popular blog that spawned some amazing conversations about what appeals to each of us;not only in actors and movies but in books as well.

This is a writing blog; a space for me to store my writing related thoughts. Occasionally I delve into other subjects but primarily as they affect my writing. I'm not putting a lot of words on the page these days but things are rolling around in my brain, making connections and generally sorting themselves out while attend to other matters(my house and zoo were screaming for attention).

Authors derive their inspiration from a variety of sources. While Gerard Butler speaks to me(not literally but hey, something could be arranged should he so desire it)he has yet to inspire a novel. His recent role in P.S. I love you did, however, remind me of an old manuscript that deserves resurrection. Once I get my office reorganized and finish Alex's story, I'll dig out Waiting on a Hero and see what it needs, besides a better title.

One thing each of Mr. Butler's characters have in common is integrity. Perhaps not by standards you or I may hold high but his characters, flawed though they may be, hold true to themselves, to their own personalities, flaws and growth. (I haven't seen every movie in which he's acted but enough to make such a sweeping statement.) That's something that should be a given in any solid piece of writing - integrity. Yet there are times when I worry that the plot needs can override that requirement.

Alex is struggling with every single aspect of his identity so this is a significant part my thought processes these days. I need his growth to be real, true and believable while still moving the storyline in the direction I originally envisioned. I will continue to look to movies like Dear Frankie and books like It's not about the accent to guide me.

What character quality is a must-have for you?

Photo courtesy of CBC's The Hour with George Stromboulobopoulos

Sweating with Sven

Sven's reign of terror ended yesterday. I didn't meet my goal. In fact I fell far short. Regardless, I'd sign on for another tour. Until three weeks ago, I wrote every single night. For hours at a time. My word count increased exponentially as the weeks went on. Sven can be very inspiring. It might have something to do with not wanting to see the disdain on that curled lip. That's just not my idea of sexy.

When the words flowed, the count increased and I had my butt in the chair, well then that was another thing entirely. His eyes would twinkle, the corners of his mouth tilt up and approval shone from him.

Despite the fact that I didn't answer his calls or return his messages for the last few weeks, Sven has invited me to return to his sweat lodge for the next writing challenge. I have a few issues to work out before I accept, but with a little help from Alex and some input from Nea,I should be in a better head space. Don't worry Sven, it wasn't you, it was me*.

*I've always wanted to say that to someone.

PS I love the way you look at me

The writing vacation was necessary. I was stuck and needed to give my subconscious some time to work things through. The Crayola(TM)bathtub crayons prevent me from losing the threads of ideas as they come to me. I know that when the time comes I'll be able to weave them into a beautiful tapestry because of the time off. The colours will pop, the pattern will be clear and I'll love the feel of the fabric beneath my fingers. I've just been too tired to appreciate any of it.

Many of my friends are writers. It's inevitable when we get together that our conversation will turn to the craft of writing. I spent a lovely evening with three talented women discussing the process. It's different for everyone, different for each book. None of them have an online presence but the minute they do, I'll link to them because they are each brilliant in their own right. I'm very blessed with the friends in my life. That night with strong women watching Shirley Valentine prepared me well for the next day with another brilliant writer.

I went to see my dear friend Elen. We spent a great deal of our afternoon discussing the industry of writing; blogging, websites, networking, workshops and conferences. We've both been mentored by some amazing and generous authors like JoAnn Ross, Maggie Shayne, Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer. That conversation naturally segued into our personal fun reading. We both vehemently believe that the Outlander series should not be made into a movie. We have very definite ideas of what Jamie and Claire look like. And as much as I love him, Gerard Butler is not Jamie.

After we went to see P.S.I love you Elen asked me about my obsession with the incomparable Mr. Butler. I wasn't surprised by the question but I did have to think about it. Two writers in a dark theater watching some seriously sexy men led to some interesting conversation. Dialogue, costume, music, setting; they were all fodder for our discussion, but none more than casting. Hilary Swank didn't do it for Elen. I could agree with her assessment but I lived for Gerry's screen time. A slight exaggeration but he drove the movie for me. So of course we analyzed it because there's a paranormal brewing in my head about that fascination.

He's certainly an attractive man - dark hair, gorgeous eyes, sexy accent and a crooked smile. His grin lights his face and takes it over. You can't help but grin back. His character had a boundless enthusiasm for life. They usually do.

I've never been one for subtext. It usually sails over my head. I've struggled with it from the time I was a child. She read compassion mingled with love in his eyes always threw me for a loop. I was too literal and expected to see the letters crossing his eyes like words on a teleprompter. I still can't interpret The Look the manager gave me the other day.

But in every single movie, including 300, Gerard Butler looks at the heroine like she is the reason he breathes. It's never the same look. It's not like he lowers his lids, scrunches up his nose or lets his jaw go slack. I can't describe the look because it's not physical. Regardless of whether it's walking along the waterfront in Dear Frankie or in the hills of Ireland in P.S. I love you, the essence is the same. That is his appeal to me as a viewer. The day I nail that emotion in a scene is the day I'll know I am a writer of merit.

Thanks to two days of relaxed movie watching and hanging out with writing buddies, I've finally been able to understand the magic of that particular actor. I'm sure I'll be able to infuse my characters with a similar magic because the knowing only enhanced it. Thanks to modern technology, I'll always have Gerry to remind me.

Cleaning and reading and writing, oh my

This writing vacation has been productive. The last few months have been crazy between work, travel, the library course and writing. My house has been neglected. The pets have whined in various different voices. My TBR pile spilled over into a fourth room(I only have five rooms in this place). I actually spent Saturday stretched out on the couch with a cat on one side, another one on my lap, the dog beside me on the floor and the parrot on my shoulder while I read A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore. It was a good day.



I rearranged my living room yesterday. Lifted furniture. It was quite a workout. I definitely earned a star.

Today I hauled my butt out of bed early and took Ky for a run before his chiropractor's appointment.


I was listening to the brilliant Lani Diane Rich and Samantha Graves podcast Will Write for Wine. I'm very behind in my listening. I think it was episode six. Regardless. Something strange happened. My brain made a few connections about my own characters. Poor Alex. His life really sucks - and I'm about to make it worse. Maybe not today. I only wrote the idea on the shower wall.

There's a definite correlation between my mood and Alex's. The last time I was all broody and moody was when Nea went on a tear and did her best to destroy Alex's moral fiber. It can be disturbing to try and think like a nasty, twisted demon. Facing one's demons is all too literal at times. As Alex is feeling pretty low, I've been questioning some of the same things he has. Trust me, that's a good thing.

In the meantime, I'm cleaning my house, cutting plastic bags to knit or crochet(I have patterns for both) into a rug and considering how to write myself out of this mood.

Nothing to see here

The New Year did not start off with a bang. I wrote three words on the shower wall. That's it. I have an idea about incorporating two scenes but right now my head is not in it.

There's been a lot of drama around me, none of it actually mine, but it's had an effect on my thought processes. I've yet to figure out how to use those emotions in my story. Until I do, or things change up again, I'm taking a writing vacation. I haven't had a real vacation in years. It's not a trip to Belize (if Alex doesn't get to go there, neither do I) but it will give me a break. So I can pass the next library course, read a book or two, knit a rug out of plastic bags and take care of some other things.

Of course, if my brain suddenly clicks back into the book, you can be sure I'll cut my vacation short and go back to writing. You'll be the first to know.

In the meantime, be kind to yourselves.

Snacks

Fell off the exercise/food/writing wagon again. Dratted holidays. I have enjoyed time with friends and family though and that's far more important than being slim, beautiful and famous.

It's not like I haven't done anything. I spun around the living room a couple of times but no bopping. I wrote all over the shower wall but haven't actually inputted anything since Christmas Eve. That feels like a lifetime ago. I think the shower stuff might lead me down an avenue I had overlooked. It might be very interesting.

And I think I discovered Nea's favourite snack food - dates. She's already gone on a rant about nymphs actually being cannibals. That's not accurate but it was kind of funny. If they're supposed to guard and protect flora and fauna, isn't vegetarianism a very bad thing? Maybe it was funny only to me. At this point in time the scene doesn't actually serve a purpose. Until it does, it's only in the notebook, not actually input into the document.

What do you do with those scenes?

Caroling

Hello all you weary carolers. The CBs have been going from blog to blog singing traditional, non-traditional and sometimes even funny Christmas carols in an attempt to inject some fun and frivolity into the festive season.

The sideboard is loaded with beverages from cocoa to hot toddies, with eggnog and punch thrown in for good measure. All of the cookies and treats that came in the mail are laid out for you weary carolers to sample. I've even included some of my Toblerone fudge.

Gather 'round the fire. Have a toast. And know that no matter where you are in the world, who you're with or how well we know each other, you are welcome at my table.

Peace on earth, goodwill toward' man, and like I sang this morning on a hilltop with my dog,"let the sun shine in."

Regardless of what you celebrate this holiday season, my wish for you is joy throughout all that you do.

CMS/Keziah/Sheryl

The Big Picture

That's a phrase that's been running through my head for weeks as I deal with work issues as well as writing challenges. There are times, more often than not, when we react to a situation without any idea of how we fit into The Big Picture. I'm well aware that, at work, I'm an expendable cog in a tiny wheel that operates a side component of the entire machine. Once I accepted that, I was able to find peace in the changes and be happier with the job that I do. I was also able to look at it from the other side when management divulged information about someone else's job. The bottom line for me was to understand how all the pieces fit in the puzzle.

Friends of mine own a lovely piece of property with seven acres that backs onto a creek. Their home is at the front half, lots of elm and black walnut trees populate the back. While they are smack dab in the middle of orchards and grape fields, their property is prettier than it is functional.

Last week, the husband was clearing out the underbrush down by the creek when he found a hunting platform in the top of their tallest, straightest tree. He was furious. Not only had someone trespassed on his property, they hunted wildlife that resided safely there. They shot a rifle with the intent to kill. And kill they had. By spiking his tree to build the platform, they had ruined it.

What I didn't know, which means the hunters most definitely didn't, was that my friends were planning to sell that tree as a veneer tree. Money is tight for them right now. She's been ill the last few years and unable to contribute to the household income. Alternative therapies don't come cheap in any country. So that tree was not just the highest spot in the land from which to kill deer. It was a souce of income for my friends. An income they desperately need. One that they have nutured for several years.

Those hunters were ignorantly unaware of the big picture and how destructive their trespassing was. I'm not convinced they would have behaved differently had they known. Sometimes The Big Picture doesn't mean anything to people who don't see themselves as part of it.

I think that maybe that's the problem with demons. They don't care what The Big Picture is. They live to rearrange it. Structure and understanding are repugnant to them.

Fortunately that makes for an interesting story. Alex and Nea have no idea how their puzzle pieces fit together. They are only aware of their effect on each other. They are in for a big shock at the end of the book when they find out who exactly manipulated them both and why. So am I because at this moment I only have part of the answer.

Snow storm

I'd show you pictures but the wind was blowing so strong I didn't take any. My niece and I only tromped to the bridge and back because the visibility was so low. We really needed Ky to help us find our way a couple of times. I definitely got my exercise today.

I can also use that feeling of battling the elements in one of Alex's scenes. He's hating winter and dreaming about the hot climes of Belize. I can only imagine. My little trek today reminded me of how quickly things can turn. Again, something I can use with Alex.

It's all about the writing, baby.

Good Advice

I fell off the Sven/exercise/good food/writing/healthy wagon last week. I think I just caught a bug. No, it was not a Curculio elephas or lesser chestnut weevil. I had a fever. Which makes me like the Energizer Bunny without any direction. I go full tilt ahead then forget what I was doing and crash to a halt. Leap forward a few paces then stop again. I even took time off work because I had the attention span of a gnat.

So I did nothing but play with the dog, clean the house and overstimulate the parrot(he's not used to me being home so much). We played loud music, danced around the house and crashed on the couch every couple of hours to stare blankly at the wall. Seriously. The wall is that lovely spiderweb colour. A few plants need to be pruned. Maybe I should hang some pictures.

I started a lot of conversations that didn't make sense. I didn't write. I didn't work on my library assignment and I most definitely did not go into the store to sell pet food. I was also very dizzy. That made me fall down a couple of times. The bruise on my knee is a lovely eggplant. Grilled eggplant is delicious. My mind wandered very easily.

So I whined to a friend about how productive I wasn't in any aspect of my life.

Her great advice - crash on the couch, drink plenty of fluids and baby the bug (still not a curculio)It was good advice.

I went back to work today. I wrote a scene last night and another one today. I finished my library assignment. And I came up with an indoor exercise program. All because I took Elen's advice and stopped fighting the fever. I was losing anyway.

Now, I'm playing with Nea's bug. A curculio elephas. But I'll spare you all the image of the long nosed chestnut weevil.

Excuses, excuses

Ky was sick for a few days which meant I was up all night every night. By the time I dragged my sorry butt home from work every night, I was too tired to actually think of anything scintillating to add to my wip. Not a single word of brilliance.

I walked to work on Saturday with the hope that it would trigger a great thought process. Most of what I thought was along the lines of,"Crap, it's cold out here," followed immediately by, "Why didn't I wear my black coat? It's longer, warmer. Ugly." For twenty minutes my entire focus was on getting to work without freezing to death. The sun was shining. I was tired. I mistook that for a sign of warmth. I won't do that again.

I had the day off work yesterday. Ky and I spent it with friends. Then I went Christmas shopping. That was definitely not conducive to thinking. Which is why I was scrambling last night to get my reading done for a library course I'm taking. I had a session with my tutor this morning and I didn't fake it very well. Fortunately the assignment isn't due until next week. So much for my day of writing. "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men, gang aft agley."

Today I was speed walking indoors. I was warm, almost too warm. Ky's feeling better so he only woke me up three times last night. I read a sign that said, "No refunds," and it sparked something in me. I dug out the scene where Alex and Nea argue over the importance of capitalism and free enterprise as they pertain to natural resources. Boom! I had another page of dialogue. Who knows from where inspiration strikes.

I'll endeavour to do more tomorrow. 'Tis the most anyone can ask. Besides, my shopping is done.

Quote from Robbie Burns - a nod to Theresa in Edinburgh

Opening Scene

You know the opening scene of a movie where the harried heroine runs around the house,hopping into her hose while grabbing toast off the plate and slurping her coffee? That was me yesterday - without the hose or coffee. :)

I hopped into the shower and ideas came pouring out. I wrote all over the back of the shower wall with a blue bathtub crayon. I had one eye on the clock and another on the wall and I just couldn't stop writing. I wrote as fast as I could with one hand, while the other hand scrubbed. Then I shut off the shower, grabbed a towel and kept writing. I was afraid to stop. The ideas might not have lasted long enough for me to find the recorder.

I yanked my notebook out of the bag, and continued writing with one hand while the other one dressed me. Not my best hair day; it was scooped up haphazardly into a clip. The good news is I was only five minutes late. The bad news is I was late for work (sorry, Chantelle, but I stayed late to make up for it)

At the end of the day I had four and a half pages to show for my early morning hop.



This morning, I took Ky out for a run in the brisk winter air. I listened to another Will Write for Wine podcast and laughed my butt off. The exercise/podcast combination usually puts my thought processes down an interesting path. Lani and Sam have some fascinating exchanges which never fail to spark something for my own wip. Then the endorphins kick in and I use the recorder.

I doubt I'll finish by this weekend. I'm at the point where each page contains notes for two or three scenes. It's all good stuff but in dire need of major expansion. Who wants to read,"Then Nea crawled in the shower with him and the sex was different than she was used to." Followed by, "Alex and Nea share a moment at the head of the falls." It all needs work, but just think how much stronger it will be when they are actual scenes.

Thanks to Kate for a serious conversation that sparked all that frantic writing on the shower wall.

Sunday's check-in

Team CB has had a busy week, but we've all powered through and made our weekly goals. I have to admit I'd stuff cookies in my face and lounge on the couch instead of resisting both and heading outdoors for a walk if it wasn't for fear of disappointing Mary, Christina and Theresa. The way they've all stepped up for a run inspires me to do the same. I actually did laps indoors today despite the fact that it was my off-day for walking.

Sweating with Sven keeps me at the computer when I'd rather be scarfing back cookies and lounging on the couch. I really want to finish this draft of Hell to Pay by the end of the month. Which is this coming Friday. My work schedule isn't any lighter. In fact this week is particularly long with a couple of double shifts, twelve hour days.

But Elen and Sven have me down on the mat working my fingers to the bone typing. If I don't meet my goal this week, it will be because I ran out of time. I've learned how to write under almost any circumstances, in any environment, surrounded by noise and distractions.

I'm blessed with great friends who encourage and support me, who inspire and motivate me to be a better writer and a better person but who all like me as I am. How lucky am I?

Agent search

Yesterday was not so great. I didn't take the dog for a walk. I worked both jobs so I came home and fell on the couch. I can't believe how much my legs hurt after walking around the store for five hours. :whine:whine: At least I have legs that walk. I'm doing better than some people. And I'm truly grateful despite the need to grumble and grouse.

I transcribed my scene notes off the mp3 player. They held up to the scrutiny as I typed. Very solid stuff.

Received a rejection from the agent I met with at NJRW in October. It was a good rejection but one none-the-less. i was thinking about it later and realized that I have no idea what I'm looking for in a agent. A few years ago, I made a list of possibilities but it was a short list based entirely on who represented paranormal. That list is huge now.

I need to look at other considerations when choosing agents to whom I wish to submit. What criteria is on your list?

Great Day

I couldn't get my butt out of bed this morning. My legs were exhausted and weak so I wrote the day off for exercise. Then I spent some time on the phone with a friend in crisis and I needed some fresh air. I grabbed my new mp3 player, the dog, some tennis balls and off I went.

Once the dog was happy with a ball in his mouth, I switched on the voice recorder and talked faster than I walked. It was scintillating, brilliant and insightful. It was also all lost because I didn't hit the right button. That stopped me cold. Once I figured out what I'd done wrong, I hit my stride. Alex's illusions fell by the wayside as I walked quickly along the canal.

I felt fantastic. I was walking and writing and Ky was happy. The weather was cold, crisp but not precipitating. It was a great experience. Just as we turned to head back home, I saw a barge being pushed down the canal by a tugboat. The barge was named, I swear I'm not making this up, CMS 1261. Add those numbers up, people. Ten! The tugboat is the rest of Team CB. Thanks, ladies for inspiring me every day.

So what if I ate two shortbread cookies? I had an excellent morning. Now I have to go input what I wrote while I walked.

More research means less stars

I spent two hours last night and almost that much time again today watching videos of Extreme Kayaker and vertical descent world record holder, Tao Berman. I wasn't actually writing the scene where the kayak goes over the Falls, but Alex was defending his chosen profession. After watching a bunch of videos on YouTube as well as an excellent documentary, Fearless, about Tao, the right language really fleshed out the dialogue. It also, happily, increased my word count. More importantly it gave a layer of depth to Alex. He's not an irresponsible idiot. He's skilled, methodical in his planning and confident.

No walking today, too immersed in kayaking waterfalls. Paddling through class 5 rapids to plunge over the edge into the shallow rocky pool below. Not the most comfortable place to be in the world but definitely invigorating.

One for, one against

I walked to work. Listened to Will Write for Wine podcast on my shiny new mp3 player. Was too enchanted with Lani Diane Rich and Samantha Graves to think about my own book. I did however play with the voice recording before I left the house.

Lose the star for eating a Caramilk Dark bar. Right now, while I type. :sigh:

In the words of the incomparable Scarlett O'Hara, "Tomorrow is another day."

After telling McB all the reasons I wasn't going for a walk today;the high winds, cold rain, not enough time before work to walk and write, would rather write, still had tomorrow to meet my weekly goal;I sucked it up. I'd been staring at my open document for an hour without adding more than two sentences to my wip.

Bundled in more layers than a jockey trying to make weight for the Kentucky Derby, I headed out with Ky. We walked further than the other day and in less time, despite the strong head wind. The tail wind more than made up for it.

Something really cool happened on the walk, something that happens every single time and I always forget the intensity of it. I wrote in my head. It was layer stuff;the demon's bugs, the other demon's reaction to seeing Alex's trapped soul and some stuff with Alex and a harmonica. I need a mini-recorder for this stuff because I had actual lines of solid writing. I repeated them to Ky a few times but even if he does remember, how is he supposed to tell me what they were?

I needed to look at exercise as an extension of my writing as I'm far more dedicated to the latter than the former. It never ceases to amaze me what I will do to further my writing career. You all know I have sucky days where I wonder why I bother but those don't last long. I am hard-core about this.

Walking may very well be a good tool for all that writing in my head time that I need to let ideas and images jell.

Tomorrow I'll take paper and a pencil if it isn't raining. Or my cell phone so I can leave a message on my answering machine.

Whatever works, eh.