I went out for a bite and a pint with some friends the other night. We had all needed a break from reality and shared a few laughs about the turns our lives have taken lately. It was nice to introduce friends I've known for many years to someone I've known for a shorter period of time.
We all share an interest in birds of prey. Many years ago, the one friend and I belonged to a raptor rehab center. I have tons of books on how to properly care for and subsequently release injured birds of prey. Unfortunately the group disbanded over politics before I was able to actually nurse a raptor back to health but not before I was able to learn plenty on the subject. I didn't get my rehab license at the time but am looking back into that certification.
The more recently acquired friend is interested in falconry. We shared our experiences with her. Training with lures. Feeding. Teaching an injured eagle how to fly. I used to be friends with a man who trained birds of prey and helped him on occasion. It was exhilarating.
There's something about watching those creatures hunt that is both graceful and noble. Yet it's also violent. I'll spare you the details but it's not a clean kill. It's brutal and messy. But it is often swift.
That made me think about Nea's relationship with her wings. She cherishes them because they are a symbol of her demon status. They carry her with speed and efficiency towards destruction. They also lift her high above the trees. Demons are violent nasty creatures; the antithesis of everything her wings grant her. Freedom, beauty and speed.
Like a falcon spiraling out of the sky, Nea dives on Alex and twists her talons in his soul. Swift. Brutal. Elegant.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Will Write for Wine
This isn't the first time I've mentioned Will Write for Wine. It probably won't be the last. I was out running my darling dog along the canal in an effort to dissipate the sugar buzz. I was also trying to catch up on all the podcasts I've downloaded over the last few months. One of the reasons I get so far behind is the writing frenzy that Lani Diane Rich and Samantha Graves inspire.
I listened to an episode about Dialogue and watched the tugboats breaking up the ice in the canal. I also threw a stick for the dog. I was laughing at all three when Lani said,"Everyone lies." That stopped me cold in my tracks.
I'm in the midst of a scene where Alex is making some conclusions about his own redemption. And it occurred to me how much stronger this scene, and the rest of the book, will be if he's lying to himself about his motivation. He's being both selfish and noble but mixing up which belongs to what action.
I'm excited, and have to go write. I'll probably be late with the next blog if all goes according to plan. Bwahaha. Like that ever happens. Poor Alex.
I listened to an episode about Dialogue and watched the tugboats breaking up the ice in the canal. I also threw a stick for the dog. I was laughing at all three when Lani said,"Everyone lies." That stopped me cold in my tracks.
I'm in the midst of a scene where Alex is making some conclusions about his own redemption. And it occurred to me how much stronger this scene, and the rest of the book, will be if he's lying to himself about his motivation. He's being both selfish and noble but mixing up which belongs to what action.
I'm excited, and have to go write. I'll probably be late with the next blog if all goes according to plan. Bwahaha. Like that ever happens. Poor Alex.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Alex Across the Universe
My friend came over last night to work on her essay about Across the Universe. Someone had stepped on her laptop so she used mine. I also own the movie so we watched it 5 times in 24 hours. As of this afternoon I still wasn't sick of it. Odd considering each viewing was consecutive.
The most interesting aspect of the entire experience was how much I wrote. A little friendly rivalry kicked into gear. I grabbed pen and paper and just wrote everything that came to mind. I started with the end of one scene and notes for the next. Every tap of the keys drove me to match her word for word with ink. Scratch, sing, tap. Scratch, sing, tap. So our night went.
The Beatles are not on my playlist for Alex. He's more of a nature tape kinda guy. But knowing someone else is writing beside me gets the juices flowing every time. Hmmm, I wonder where Alex gets his competitive spirit from...
It was fun, productive and created some good stuff. A writer's retreat would get this sucker finished in no time. Just saying...
The most interesting aspect of the entire experience was how much I wrote. A little friendly rivalry kicked into gear. I grabbed pen and paper and just wrote everything that came to mind. I started with the end of one scene and notes for the next. Every tap of the keys drove me to match her word for word with ink. Scratch, sing, tap. Scratch, sing, tap. So our night went.
The Beatles are not on my playlist for Alex. He's more of a nature tape kinda guy. But knowing someone else is writing beside me gets the juices flowing every time. Hmmm, I wonder where Alex gets his competitive spirit from...
It was fun, productive and created some good stuff. A writer's retreat would get this sucker finished in no time. Just saying...
Monday, March 17, 2008
Melancholy
Melancholy. It's an interesting word. The last four letters spell holy and at the risk of sounding sacrilegious that's almost how I feel right now. Reverent.
During Holy Week I'm attending two memorial services. It's made me reflective about how we live our lives. Most of us go about our business, make homes for our families, provide for them, share experiences with good friends and move on with little awareness of how much we touch each other.
A man came into the store the other day and told me that I never fail to brighten his day. You'd think I would have been less surprised given that I'd just written about the importance of a positive outlook over at the CB Bar and Grill. He's been depressed for some time. I had no idea. He comes in. We talk about animals, great books and tell each other a few jokes. Then we go our separate ways, both carrying that good humour through the rest our day.
Some times the way people touch us is more subtle. Write off the Deep End is a writing group that formed when Brian Henry wrote my phone number on the blackboard at a writing course he was teaching. I was the only volunteer to host a group. Kate and I have looked back plenty over the years in amazement that we so naively gathered other writers (including each other) towards us that day.
I'm not sure of the evolution from there. We met more people at other writing courses and our information was circulated in the Niagara region. Tom Torrance taught romance, poetry and writing for children(all separately, of course) at Niagara College during that time. While I never took any of his classes other members of WODE did. As we tended to pool our resources, I heard "In Tom's class, we..." a lot. He was a great influence on all of us. Brenda Harlen credits him with a good portion of her success with Harlequin.
I didn't know him well. He was my parent's neighbour for several years. He frequented the library where I work. He came to book signings. He always smiled, said a few words in his soft voice and let the action flow around him.
He was a quiet man. A gentle man. The kind of person your glance bounces off in its quest for stimulation. But his words carried weight and his message had power. I look at all the people whose lives he touched, all the writers to whom he gave confidence in their abilities and I am awed.
In one of those serendipitous moments I love, I just finished reading a book this morning. I almost turned away from it in the beginning because the prose was literary, slow moving and lyrical with it's gentle images. Yet the more I read, the more I enjoyed the slower journey full of profound observations that I would have lost in a faster paced book. The end left me pensive and pondering the final paragraph. The main character says the need we have to put words on a page is the way in which we grasp hold of meaning in every day tasks. She suggests it is a way to hold onto our memories.
It may be my interpretation but I think writing is the way so many of us find meaning in our interactions, our communications, in our lives. As writers we are allowed, even encouraged, to ponder all the connections we make in daily tasks and assign meaning to each. As writers we record all that happens around us. We make sense out of chaos, and order.
Sometimes we merely observe. Sometimes we extrapolate from those observations. Through our writing we share bits of ourselves. Bits that have an effect on someone else, bits that alter their reality or thinking, bits that float across miles to land in another's conscious when they most need to see another perspective.
Few of us know how long-lasting or far-reaching our interactions have on our family, friends, co-workers, strangers, students and teachers. Memorials are an opportunity to share that person's significance in our lives with those who love them. The two people whose memorials I attend this week were fortunate enough to know, through words and actions, the myriad of ways in which they had touched the lives of others.
Sometimes melancholy can lead to bright memories. Thank you all for reading, and inspiring me to reach for meaning in the mundane and the magical.
During Holy Week I'm attending two memorial services. It's made me reflective about how we live our lives. Most of us go about our business, make homes for our families, provide for them, share experiences with good friends and move on with little awareness of how much we touch each other.
A man came into the store the other day and told me that I never fail to brighten his day. You'd think I would have been less surprised given that I'd just written about the importance of a positive outlook over at the CB Bar and Grill. He's been depressed for some time. I had no idea. He comes in. We talk about animals, great books and tell each other a few jokes. Then we go our separate ways, both carrying that good humour through the rest our day.
Some times the way people touch us is more subtle. Write off the Deep End is a writing group that formed when Brian Henry wrote my phone number on the blackboard at a writing course he was teaching. I was the only volunteer to host a group. Kate and I have looked back plenty over the years in amazement that we so naively gathered other writers (including each other) towards us that day.
I'm not sure of the evolution from there. We met more people at other writing courses and our information was circulated in the Niagara region. Tom Torrance taught romance, poetry and writing for children(all separately, of course) at Niagara College during that time. While I never took any of his classes other members of WODE did. As we tended to pool our resources, I heard "In Tom's class, we..." a lot. He was a great influence on all of us. Brenda Harlen credits him with a good portion of her success with Harlequin.
I didn't know him well. He was my parent's neighbour for several years. He frequented the library where I work. He came to book signings. He always smiled, said a few words in his soft voice and let the action flow around him.
He was a quiet man. A gentle man. The kind of person your glance bounces off in its quest for stimulation. But his words carried weight and his message had power. I look at all the people whose lives he touched, all the writers to whom he gave confidence in their abilities and I am awed.
In one of those serendipitous moments I love, I just finished reading a book this morning. I almost turned away from it in the beginning because the prose was literary, slow moving and lyrical with it's gentle images. Yet the more I read, the more I enjoyed the slower journey full of profound observations that I would have lost in a faster paced book. The end left me pensive and pondering the final paragraph. The main character says the need we have to put words on a page is the way in which we grasp hold of meaning in every day tasks. She suggests it is a way to hold onto our memories.
It may be my interpretation but I think writing is the way so many of us find meaning in our interactions, our communications, in our lives. As writers we are allowed, even encouraged, to ponder all the connections we make in daily tasks and assign meaning to each. As writers we record all that happens around us. We make sense out of chaos, and order.
Sometimes we merely observe. Sometimes we extrapolate from those observations. Through our writing we share bits of ourselves. Bits that have an effect on someone else, bits that alter their reality or thinking, bits that float across miles to land in another's conscious when they most need to see another perspective.
Few of us know how long-lasting or far-reaching our interactions have on our family, friends, co-workers, strangers, students and teachers. Memorials are an opportunity to share that person's significance in our lives with those who love them. The two people whose memorials I attend this week were fortunate enough to know, through words and actions, the myriad of ways in which they had touched the lives of others.
Sometimes melancholy can lead to bright memories. Thank you all for reading, and inspiring me to reach for meaning in the mundane and the magical.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Alex
I went through some boxes of old paper this weekend. Not only am I doing my annual search for tax paperwork, receipts and such, I'm also sorting and shredding things that have outlasted their usefulness. For some reason I cannot bring myself to shred a sketch an ex-boyfriend made of a thermostat for a car that went to the wrecker twenty years ago. It makes me smile every time I look at it.
Among other such memories I found notebooks, binders and sheafs of paper with several story ideas, outlines and even scenes. Some are good, some not so much. But they all had one thing in common. The hero's name was Alex. He's been dark, fair;lean, stocky;tall, average;a firefighter, medieval knight, and electician(not sure what the last one was about).
In his current incarnation as an extreme sports athlete, he's been around for twelve years. I knew where we were going together and how we were getting there but could never find a strong enough companion for that journey. So I sent him to Tibet while I gave his original storyline to his sister(that was Kate's Idea and it took me six months to accept it).
I wrote several other books in the meantime. Now that I had Alex's identity solidly implanted in my subconscious those heroes were able to form with different names and their own solid identities. Alex wandered through Indonesia and Australia with brief jaunts home to see if I was ready for him. When I started his sister's story in earnest, he went to South America. Who knew he would connect to Belize so thoroughly? Certainly not I.
The character has been rolling around in my head in one form or another for fifteen years and I'm still learning about him. Some of it is fascinating stuff. Some of the little details don't amount to much until you put them all together. He's so much tougher,versatile and resilient than I ever could have imagined. And funny. His sense of humour is a little bent.
He's larger-than-life, contained to a larger-than-life home at the head of a powerful natural wonder. He's sparring with a demon(also Kate's Idea that took some time to accept)for his soul. Yet he's as trapped as anyone has ever been, even if the cage is immense.
He had an epiphany yesterday. While I knew the first part of the book involved unAlex-like behaviour I didn't realize how it was possible for him to change so drastically. I thought it was the demon's fault. Alex says otherwise.
After all these years, I'm still enjoying the revelations. Perhaps that's why I'm not working too hard to finish the book. It will be hard to let him go.
Fortunately, other heroes await. There's that old ghost story whose memory was triggered by Gerard Butler. That's on an old floppy disk, as well as in a binder. But you know I remember more of that story and that hero every day.
Meanwhile Bracken grows.
Among other such memories I found notebooks, binders and sheafs of paper with several story ideas, outlines and even scenes. Some are good, some not so much. But they all had one thing in common. The hero's name was Alex. He's been dark, fair;lean, stocky;tall, average;a firefighter, medieval knight, and electician(not sure what the last one was about).
In his current incarnation as an extreme sports athlete, he's been around for twelve years. I knew where we were going together and how we were getting there but could never find a strong enough companion for that journey. So I sent him to Tibet while I gave his original storyline to his sister(that was Kate's Idea and it took me six months to accept it).
I wrote several other books in the meantime. Now that I had Alex's identity solidly implanted in my subconscious those heroes were able to form with different names and their own solid identities. Alex wandered through Indonesia and Australia with brief jaunts home to see if I was ready for him. When I started his sister's story in earnest, he went to South America. Who knew he would connect to Belize so thoroughly? Certainly not I.
The character has been rolling around in my head in one form or another for fifteen years and I'm still learning about him. Some of it is fascinating stuff. Some of the little details don't amount to much until you put them all together. He's so much tougher,versatile and resilient than I ever could have imagined. And funny. His sense of humour is a little bent.
He's larger-than-life, contained to a larger-than-life home at the head of a powerful natural wonder. He's sparring with a demon(also Kate's Idea that took some time to accept)for his soul. Yet he's as trapped as anyone has ever been, even if the cage is immense.
He had an epiphany yesterday. While I knew the first part of the book involved unAlex-like behaviour I didn't realize how it was possible for him to change so drastically. I thought it was the demon's fault. Alex says otherwise.
After all these years, I'm still enjoying the revelations. Perhaps that's why I'm not working too hard to finish the book. It will be hard to let him go.
Fortunately, other heroes await. There's that old ghost story whose memory was triggered by Gerard Butler. That's on an old floppy disk, as well as in a binder. But you know I remember more of that story and that hero every day.
Meanwhile Bracken grows.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Dreams
As writers, we tend to live in our subconscious more than most people. We create characters, situations, worlds and realities that must feel real or the reader won't be engaged. Not only will they toss the book against the wall, they'll tell all their friends how ridiculous it was.
This leads to the need for some solid research. I've never been to Belize nor run white water in a raft(or any other conveyance for that matter). Travel books, tourism boards and the wide world of google help to capture the feel of the tropical country. YouTube has some fascinating video of amazing river runs that I've previously shared with you. I draw on those resources a fair amount when I'm writing.
There's a pivotal scene with Alex and another character going over a waterfalls in a kayak. Racing off the edge of the earth to plunge 200 feet. Exhilerating stuff. Terrifying and something I feel confident describing despite the fact that I've never been in a kayak.
Every Spring for the past 16 years, I've dreamt about going over Niagara Falls, without a barrel. I swim, sweep or flail my way over the edge. My breathing changes, adrenaline floods my bloodstream and euphoria and terror dominate my senses. I am never injured but I am always aware how precarious my survival is. There are a variety of reasons for this recurring dream but the one that interests me most for this blog is the way I can use that experience to give this scene a sense of truth. Even though my feet stay firmly planted on the ground whenever I go to Niagara Falls, I can recreate that feeling with a high level of accuracy. Because I've dreamt it so often.
Which brings me to the recurring dream from the last post. I have this ongoing relationship with a NASCAR driver because I write romance and need some stuff to drawn on. My subconscious likely chose him because we've met a few times, I'd done all that research on him for the game and wandered through his hometown. It perceives him as familiar. The relationship isn't real so I can poach from it all I want for writing purposes.
The subconscious is the best tool in a writer's toolkit. It isn't bound by physical limitations or conventional thinking. It has a symbiotic relationship with the imagination. They fuel each other.
And save me a plane ticket to Belize.
This leads to the need for some solid research. I've never been to Belize nor run white water in a raft(or any other conveyance for that matter). Travel books, tourism boards and the wide world of google help to capture the feel of the tropical country. YouTube has some fascinating video of amazing river runs that I've previously shared with you. I draw on those resources a fair amount when I'm writing.
There's a pivotal scene with Alex and another character going over a waterfalls in a kayak. Racing off the edge of the earth to plunge 200 feet. Exhilerating stuff. Terrifying and something I feel confident describing despite the fact that I've never been in a kayak.
Every Spring for the past 16 years, I've dreamt about going over Niagara Falls, without a barrel. I swim, sweep or flail my way over the edge. My breathing changes, adrenaline floods my bloodstream and euphoria and terror dominate my senses. I am never injured but I am always aware how precarious my survival is. There are a variety of reasons for this recurring dream but the one that interests me most for this blog is the way I can use that experience to give this scene a sense of truth. Even though my feet stay firmly planted on the ground whenever I go to Niagara Falls, I can recreate that feeling with a high level of accuracy. Because I've dreamt it so often.
Which brings me to the recurring dream from the last post. I have this ongoing relationship with a NASCAR driver because I write romance and need some stuff to drawn on. My subconscious likely chose him because we've met a few times, I'd done all that research on him for the game and wandered through his hometown. It perceives him as familiar. The relationship isn't real so I can poach from it all I want for writing purposes.
The subconscious is the best tool in a writer's toolkit. It isn't bound by physical limitations or conventional thinking. It has a symbiotic relationship with the imagination. They fuel each other.
And save me a plane ticket to Belize.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Connections
This blog used to be all writing all the time. Then I headed into Gerard Butler world and have seen him in everything I write. There is a definite connection between that actor and a story I wrote many years ago. The odd thing is that old manuscript was based on a dream I had about a different actor, Jon Erik Hexum, the night before he died. The two men have no obvious connection other than the one my brain has made.
Over the years I've learned to pay attention to my subconscious, even when I don't have a clue what it's trying to tell me.
There's a NASCAR driver who raced to the front of the pack in many of my dreams a few years ago. Entire lifetimes together, including the occasional scrape against the wall, occupy my nights. During the daytime I'm mystified. I'm a fan of the man's driving and competitive confidence but hook up with him? I think we'd take each other out on pit road. I have to admit how strange it was to spend a good chunk of time last year in his hometown visiting with a real life, non-celebrity man. I was terrified we'd run into the driver and I'd end up saying something that sounded stalkerish.
I'm aware of that line between fantasy and reality, truly I am, but spending so much time with someone in that subconscious state lends a false sense of familiarity. It doesn't help that I spent a fair amount of time researching him for a game on which I worked a couple of years ago. It's that very essence of fact underlying all the fiction that could easily make me sound unhinged.
As a writer, I weave fantasy and reality together in a seamless blend of entertainment. Regardless of whether the book is plot or story driven; character is what engages the reader. These men are interesting characters to me. They aren't real. I don't know them. But there are elements to each of them that compel me to revisit the connections time and again.
It's that sense of the familiar that comes from perceived connections. Whether it's the dreams, the hometown or mutual acquaintances that give me that idea of being connected, the truth is irrelevant. There are times when I have to stop for a moment and think about whether I actually had that conversation - despite the fact that we haven't met.
Maybe I'm losing my mind. Or maybe I'm letting my imagination run with all the scenarios and possibilities so that I can write the most complete, real and flawed characters I can.
What do you think?
Over the years I've learned to pay attention to my subconscious, even when I don't have a clue what it's trying to tell me.
There's a NASCAR driver who raced to the front of the pack in many of my dreams a few years ago. Entire lifetimes together, including the occasional scrape against the wall, occupy my nights. During the daytime I'm mystified. I'm a fan of the man's driving and competitive confidence but hook up with him? I think we'd take each other out on pit road. I have to admit how strange it was to spend a good chunk of time last year in his hometown visiting with a real life, non-celebrity man. I was terrified we'd run into the driver and I'd end up saying something that sounded stalkerish.
I'm aware of that line between fantasy and reality, truly I am, but spending so much time with someone in that subconscious state lends a false sense of familiarity. It doesn't help that I spent a fair amount of time researching him for a game on which I worked a couple of years ago. It's that very essence of fact underlying all the fiction that could easily make me sound unhinged.
As a writer, I weave fantasy and reality together in a seamless blend of entertainment. Regardless of whether the book is plot or story driven; character is what engages the reader. These men are interesting characters to me. They aren't real. I don't know them. But there are elements to each of them that compel me to revisit the connections time and again.
It's that sense of the familiar that comes from perceived connections. Whether it's the dreams, the hometown or mutual acquaintances that give me that idea of being connected, the truth is irrelevant. There are times when I have to stop for a moment and think about whether I actually had that conversation - despite the fact that we haven't met.
Maybe I'm losing my mind. Or maybe I'm letting my imagination run with all the scenarios and possibilities so that I can write the most complete, real and flawed characters I can.
What do you think?
Sunday, March 02, 2008
A good read
I fell into a book this morning and it wasn't my own. It was The Footprints of God by Greg Iles. I try to avoid his writing when I'm under the gun because he sucks me in so completely. It's a combination of characters, story and writing style.
Like Susan Wiggs, Iles is difficult for me to dissect. I've tried analyzing both authors in an attempt to understand what drives me to keep reading long past logic dictates I should. It would be much wiser to shut off the light, get some sleep or finish my own writing. Instead I fall into a fictional world that engages all of my senses. I suspend disbelief for the hours it takes to work my way through to the end. In the case of Iles' work, I'm usually exhausted at the end. Yet satisfied.
That satisfaction is what keeps me plugging away at my own manuscript. I want readers to put my book down at the end of a wild ride with fascinating characters and feel like it was worth the investment of their valuable time. That, and the hope that some day Gerard Butler will star as one of my heroes in the film version of that book. Dreams are good. They're an essential element in creating a satisfying book.
How do you classify a good read?
Like Susan Wiggs, Iles is difficult for me to dissect. I've tried analyzing both authors in an attempt to understand what drives me to keep reading long past logic dictates I should. It would be much wiser to shut off the light, get some sleep or finish my own writing. Instead I fall into a fictional world that engages all of my senses. I suspend disbelief for the hours it takes to work my way through to the end. In the case of Iles' work, I'm usually exhausted at the end. Yet satisfied.
That satisfaction is what keeps me plugging away at my own manuscript. I want readers to put my book down at the end of a wild ride with fascinating characters and feel like it was worth the investment of their valuable time. That, and the hope that some day Gerard Butler will star as one of my heroes in the film version of that book. Dreams are good. They're an essential element in creating a satisfying book.
How do you classify a good read?
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
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
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
Sunday, February 24, 2008
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?
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?
Thursday, February 21, 2008
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!
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!
Monday, February 18, 2008
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?
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?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
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
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
Sunday, February 10, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, January 28, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
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
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
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.
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