Best laid plans

I was called into work on my day off yesterday. Great for paying bills but not so great for the plan to spend the day writing. I had my notes by the computer and a big glass of water to keep my brain hydrated. There was even a plan to review the bar scene(the phrase 'will it never end' kept running through my brain) so when the phone rang I was irked.

The end result was a distinct lack of time to procrastinate. I had half an hour to write before work. I knuckled down and wrote the punchline to that scene. Dialogue poured out onto the page. That was the most productive half hour I've used in some time on the writing front. Upon review today, the quality has held up to the cold winter light of the day after.

It was even more satisfying that I wrote on my lunch break. Instead of reading the book I had finally settled upon(and have since rejected because the characters didn't engage me)I wrote. Alex is back. His humour was missing. Even knowing where it had gone and why, I was missing that aspect of him. I've trudged through that scene because of it. The rejected book (see above) showed me the importance of showing the character's flaws and issues in a way that keeps the reader engaged.

This is a major turning point for Alex. My realization is his. Sorry it took so long but I've got it covered now. The sense of fun is back.

Who knew going to work would net such results?

PS Driving to work netted this image from Universal Studios - change the outfit, soften the lines of his face slightly, lighten the hair - and that's Alex - Hercules

Reading when writing

I'm not sure what it's like for you but I have to be careful what I read when I'm writing. Yesterday I read The Great Gatsby. It was completely unexpected. I'm not sure what I thought it would be like but that wasn't it. The writing was fluid, active and captivating. The story and the characters were larger than life yet intimate. Of course I'll never write anything like it. I'm okay with that. Only F.Scott Fitzgerald can be himself. Just as there is only one Keziah Fenton.I know because I googled it.

I picked up a book to read this morning then put it back down. I did that with three others. I want to read them all, truly I do, but I don't want to influenced by story, characters or writing style while I'm writing.

I've turned to some good period dramas and watched them instead of reading. The rhythms and cadences are restricted to dialogue alone. Sage hooked me on the BBC production of North and South. I immediately followed that viewing with the final episodes of The Vicar of Dibley. Hard to believe the male lead in both shows was the same actor, Richard Armitage. Cathy thinks he's a good candidate for Roger in the Outlander series.

I think the best way to keep my mind on my own story and characters is to read nothing but research materials and stop losing myself in sexy British actors.

What do you do to keep your mind on your own writing?

Hmmmm

Stashaholic thinks Henry Ian Cusik would be a good choice for Jamie from the Outlander series. I'm not convinced anyone can measure up to my mental image but you have to admit, he's not bad to look at.



She's thinking about her choice for Claire. I can't comment as I am busy writing. I have a brilliant post sketched out on the bathroom wall for you and will post it just as soon as I get this scene finished. I am hopeful that it will actually be in this lifetime. Thanks to Jodi Thomas for the quote, "Triumph comes from perseverance."

Ahh, my idea of triumph...


Enjoy!

Muses

Music is my muse.

I load up the CD player, yes I am that arcane, with music that either my characters listen to or are inspired by. The lead singer of The Tea Party supplied me with the hero's overall look in Heaven Coming Down. I was fortunate to have a one-on-one conversation with him in which we realized we drew our inspiration from similar sources. It seemed fitting to write the entire book to his music.

I've written to salsa, blues, metal rock and country. They've all been instrumental in flicking the switch in my brain to CREATE mode.

Part of the challenge with this project has been the lack of musical identity for Alex. It's not that big a deal though. Nea's music is definitive and strong. It's angry, loud and sums her up. Alex listens to instrumental. It's his music I hear every night before I go to sleep. Fitting as that's when I do most of my pre-writing. Nea may be Queen of the Night but Alex is at heart a dreamer. It's an interesting contrast to listen to their music.

Who or what is your muse?

Can't blog. Writing

Guess what I'm doing right this moment? Writing!

You'll be happy to know that all the research you did for me with alcholic beverages several months ago is finally being put to use. I've been structuring the demon's drinks with his downward spiral back to hell. Of course he's taking Alex with him. It's fun. I really should get back to it before they start doing shots and hitting on that blonde biker babe at the end of the bar. That would be a cliche. Especially if her beefy boyfriend took exception. Ooo, gotta go. I just thought of how to end that scene.

Here's something shiny to entertain you all with while you wait. Blue is my favourite colour. How about you?



Photo courtesy of reelzchannel.com

Please

I had a bit of a breakthrough the other day during a lull at work. I picked at the current scene and asked myself what purpose it served. Bar scenes can easily be cliched, and therefore highly entertaining, just not the way the authour intended. My problem lay in the structure. I have two punchlines in that scene. By reversing their order everything is much stronger. Writing is not the chore it was last week.

I'm still plodding along. Mostly because that's my internal speed these days. Writing, walking, thinking; I'm merely taking my time. I get every where I need to and that's what counts. I wonder if I've missed things because of rushing around trying to be all things to all people. So I'm practicing more mindful interactions with life.

As Alex is my hero, I'm turning much of my subconscious focus to him. I can do that, will who I dream about or think about beneath the surface. That technique helped me throughout university. Sorry, I have no idea how it works. It just does. It allows me to expand my conscious activities. Instead of obsessing about one issue, idea or Gerard Butler, I can now think about all of them at various times of the day without fear of losing brain cells.

With all that said, I decided to take Zingera's advice and watch this 15 minutes short,Please. I had a feeling before I watched it that it was going to set something loose in my brain.

In the first two minutes the old story that P.S. I love you reminded me of jumped forward. There's some weird connection between that old manuscript and Mr. Butler. One I don't want to pursue until after Hell to Pay is finished. I almost stopped watching the short then because the pull was strong. I took a breath, shoulder checked Alex and dove back in.

The ending was a little predictable and made me want to smack the characters but that could be because something similar happened in my neighbourhood when I was a kid. Cliches are so because they imitate recurring aspects of life. Even when life goes sideways, you can often see the changes coming.

The rest of Please? Wow. It's powerful. When he talks about being a novelist, I got chills. There are days when that's incredibly true. Go. Watch it. Even if you're neither a novelist, nor a fan of Gerard Butler's you'll understand the writer in your life a wee bit better afterward.

Brain full

Usually writing gets all that extra stuff out of my brain onto the page and frees me up to think of other things. That's not happening at the moment. Daily living, or surviving the sore-throat-that-will-not-heal, has dragged so much out of me. It doesn't seem like a lot, until I try to think.

My brain is full of parents, health(mine and theirs), researching alternative therapies(theirs and mine), conventional therapies(I think you know who's), work, the library collection course, and somewhere waaaay down there Alex and Nea who aren't exactly clawing to get out.

I've tried writing at the computer, writing longhand, writing on the shower wall, writing in my notebook and writing while I walk(digital voice recorders rock). Nothing worth noting.

Maybe I'm not Wonder Woman and can't do everything. Maybe I'm missing a key element in the story and don't realize it. Maybe I need to just keep plugging away.

Honestly, I think it's a combination of the three. I'll continue opening the document and adding a few words at a time. A conversation with Elen brought me back to the basics of Alex's character. Lani Diane Richsaid something interesting about what a bad idea it was in a romance to make the hero and heroine the antagonist and protagonist. On the surface this is exactly what I've done with Alex and Nea. On further reflection I realized it is not. In the end Alex will give Nea exactly what she wants, not what she thinks she wants. Despite what the two of them think, she's not taking away anything he holds precious. He already threw it away. In her own warped way, Nea will give it back to him. Of course neither one of them realize that's what is really happening. They think they're adversaries.

Sort of like my brain and I.

Puttering along

No writing today. Not because it was Superbowl Sunday. I had my six year old niece here all weekend. She's full of enthusiasm from the moment her eyes open in the morning til the very instant they flutter shut at night. If only I could figure out how to harness some of that energy. It would solve the global energy crisis. Not to mention my own. She sucks it out of me. I have no idea how the working/writing mothers manage. She is a treasure. Truly. We had some good laughs. She taught me some interesting dance moves. High School Musical was far better than I had imagined. Both times.

Alex took a backseat to the princess but he didn't go away completely. I did manage to play with him during her bath time. We discussed the crazy aunt scribbles on the wall and that led to more insight about this current scene.

I have no idea what triggered how to write Nea's reactions to the loss of her wing. Something made me think of OH's tattoo post and it came from there.

I'm writing out of sequence again. So much on Alex's scene then over to Nea's and back again. But whatever works.

I'm motivated. My replacement copy of Wrath of Gods should be here in three weeks. I need to be free to watch it.

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.