Music!

This past year I discovered several new-to-me artists.  I also used my standing desk more often than not.You put the two elements together and voila - happy writer. Or productive writer.But if one of those elements is missing, I struggle to put words on the page.

I let a lot of stuff get in my own way.  My responsibilities and obligations are more than some people's and less than others. It was more a matter of putting it all first. Now my stuff is a priority as well.  (You'll get the hang of it, Susan, I slowly am)

Music is a distraction for some but it motivates me.  Right now, I'm listening to Hozier while typing at my standing desk. I'm further into the current scene than I have been in weeks.  Partly because I remembered to just let the story out instead of worrying about how it all fits together. But also because I can lose myself in the music.  It keeps one part of my brain busy while another part creates.
May you find the things in life that bring you pleasure.  There's always something that will block that if you allow it but it's okay to put yourself and your needs first once in a while. Crank up the music and dance or turn it on low and let it mellow you out. Whatever suits your current mood and need.

Happy New Year, Friends!

Merry Christmas

I don't send cards, I wrap with gift bags and I find that I buy less and less stuff every year. I bake. A lot. And I share enough of it to feel like I'm not overindulging. It's good to have illusions this time of year.

My favourite gift - to give as well as receive - is the gift of presence.  The nieces and nephew get to pick one day out of the year that is devoted to them and them alone. We eat what they want to eat, spend the time however they most wish to spend it. They don't have to share with their siblings or parents. The day is theirs and we build memories. It's difficult to wrap so I occasionally hand out gift certificates or make a little toy or item of clothing.

I had tea with a dear friend yesterday and neither one of us could remember the presents from our childhood, apart some big earth-shattering gifts, but we remember family, goofy moments and food.

Boy, do we ever remember food. Oranges, apples, Toblerone and those sticky ribbon candies. Shortbread, Hello Dollys, and fudge. Tortieres, stuffing, and turkey basted with scotch. Cooking disasters like gravy made with baking soda instead of corn starch, scorched potatoes, raw turkey because the oven died on Christmas Day (the only time we grilled a turkey on the BBQ) .

What's your favourite Christmas memory?

Surprise!

I'd love to say that I finished the rough draft of the wip but that would be a lie. It's close though.

I've just been overwhelmed with a restless feeling for the last five or six weeks. I've scrubbed my house, finished up lots of little projects, started some others and focused on purging stuff.

A lot of it was mental. Somewhere over the last few years my self-image had eroded. Chipped at by other people's needs, it lost all semblance of familiarity.  My identity had been reduced to that of other people's context.  I let go of the things important to me in order to do what desperately needed to be done for those I love. My time was spent on their stuff instead of my own. I saw myself in terms of other people instead of myself (except for when I was feeling sorry for myself)

About two weeks ago, I ran face first into my past and the life I thought I always wanted. It hurt. Holy smokes, the pain reverberated throughout my body.  A giant Toblerone and smaller chocolate cake later, I took a good hard look at what I'd done to myself. I was fixated on what I didn't achieve instead of all that I have accomplished.

I like who I am now, at the life I've built for myself over the years. Yeah, there are some things that need tweaking and my self-image was terribly skewed.

As I've rebuilt it, I've been reminded how much I like my own company. Odd, that. I won't list all the things that are admirable or amazing about me. Some of you have been telling me those things for years and I've ignored you.  Suffice it to say that I do like who I am and the choices I've made.  Some of them were shaky but made for the right reasons and that's important.

Intent counts.

All the reflection and re-evaluating has made me a better writer. I looked at my characters, at my scenes and realized that they were all moving towards a goal they didn't really want but thought they should.  That breakthrough is a game changer for this story and the reason I can say I'm close to the end of the rough draft.

Art and life are interconnected. You can have one without the other but it is so much better when you have both.

Little things

Because there have been so many overwhelming things demanding my attention, I've focused on little things.

Emptying the sewing basket of items in need of mending

Reclaiming a cast iron pan

Replacing the clasp on my bracelet

And adding sentences one or three at a time to the wip.

How do you cope with large demands?

come hither

I've been problem solving some serious RL issues. There wasn't anything left in my brain between that and work. Yesterday, I got some excellent solutions in place. And last night, my brain played with the penultimate scene in my story. I have some heavy commitments over the next two days but my notebook will be with me. The imagination beckons. What a relief!

Dufferin Islands

I was sitting in the sun, waiting for a good friend and her wonderful husband to stroll through the Autumn leaves. This tiny flower was beneath my hand.

This was my view.

Breathe deep, my friends, the air is restorative.

George

This is a piece of fleece I brought home from Rotmell Farm where Granny was born almost 150 years ago.

He got a bit felted in my luggage so I put him on top of Granny's cabinet filled with yarn. The pictures over him are from the Visitor Center in Dunkeld, just down the road from the farm.

cutwork

I've enjoyed seeing things anew in my home. They're all there because I like them but I don't always see them.

This is one of the end tables. The photo is one of Jon Gustafsson's, the rock is from Iceland and the cloth reminds me of Grandma Fenton's lace work. It isn't hers but I do like it.

I'm a big fan of cutwork.

Whats the story?

My great-uncle (he really was great) made these two boxes. He used them in his workshop. The top one has hinges to hold pages down so they don't get caught when you close the drawers.

Yet, with all the care and precision  that went into the chests, the handles are slapdash. That's not like him at all and I really want to hear that story.

sheep

This arrangement sits on my vanity. The rocks and thistle are from Dunfermline, the sheep is from Edinburgh. He was supposed to be a souvenir toy for Ky but I like him.

Look at that face

Horseman

I've had this guy sitting on my dresser for years. Sadly, his head won't stay on not matter what kind of glue I use. He really is the headless horseman. Ba dum bum.

Imagine my surprise when I went to Scotland, to the home where my great-grandmother was born, and saw a headed copy of my horseman. Freaked me out, but tickled me too.

More often than not he has one of my bracelets  draped around his neck.

Houses

I've kept this picture in my kitchen for years. I used to want to live here.

Now I want to live here

Kyanite

I walk by these three specimens repeatedly throughout the day. This stone is how my dog got his name. His legs reminded me of the black kyanite in the front. The blue is easier to find. The big piece was from a good friend. A Welcome Puppy gift. His grey had a hint of blue when he was young so it was appropriate.

Pretty blue

I walk past this weed every day. It lurks at the edge of the garden and brushes everyone on the sidewalk.  I think it actually helped the tomatoes grow so I don't pull it. It's very pretty. Chickory?

Right in front of our eyes

The biggest note I have on the wip is DETAILS.  All those little things involving the senses that flesh out a story and give insight to a character's emotional, physical, mental state are vital.

It occurred to me this morning that there are hundreds of details right at hand, part of my everyday life, that I ignore or take little notice of.  Every day this week, I'm going to post a picture of something that I either walk by, sit beside, use every day that gets next to no thought from me.  It's my way of remembering to include the details and small touches in the story.

This is the sleeve I put on my cup of tea every morning at work.  I bought it in Whistler in 2010 a few weeks after the Winter Olympics left town.  I likely paid a third of the peak season asking price. It's pretty and I love the swirls of ice from one activity to another.

Change of pace

Two and a half weeks since I lasted posted.  Hard to believe that much time has gone by.  Nothing weird or exciting happened but nothing bad either so that's good.

I spent one long afternoon walking along the Niagara Parkway from Dufferin Islands to the Tesla statue by the Victoria restaurant (or whatever it is called these days).  It was a week day so the tourists were minimal.  The air was crisp and clear, little wind to blow the mist around and the bright sun to dry out the clothes.  There were a few spots I stood where the rush of the river was so loud it drowned out all thoughts.  That alone made the day perfect.

I sat under the tree right here, my favourite tree, and actually wrote for a while.  There were lots of problems with the story but that day I remembered some key elements about my characters.  I let the fresh air and scent of the water fill my soul while my brain absorbed everything around me. I made two pages of notes on the setting.  Silly, really, because this story never goes near the falls but the connection to nature is very strong, elemental.

It is good to take yourself out of the routine, hie off to a change of scenery.  While it might be familiar, you never know what you might find. I found peace, the germ of an idea, and wild yarrow growing at the edge of the falls.

One GREAT thing

Another rough week. Ky ate grapes which are incredibly toxic to dogs.  48 ours on IV to flush his kidneys, lots of drugs and time spent running between the emergency vet clinic and his regular vet.  Honestly, it's been a rough four weeks for pets around here.  The great news is that he not only survived but seems fully recovered. He also got over his aversion to being crated. As he typically destroys every crate/cage he's entered, this is a very good thing.  All of the human food has now been hung from the ceiling or cupboards like we're cacheing for bears.Whatever works.

I have a great reason for low word count this week. There wasn't a lot of sleep happening here until Friday.

Today, I printed off the document, settled on the couch with Ky under one hand and Eliot on the other.  With the race on in the background I fleshed out two scenes, about eight pages.  More importantly, I was able to see, and fix, the problem that's been staring me in the face for the last couple of weeks. Let's hope the solution lasts.  As the distraction is gone, I imagine productivity will return.

I've had to cancel my vacation and next week's kayaking tour of the harbor but listening to Ky breathe, feeling his soft fur beneath my fingers, even smelling the clinic smell on him makes it all worth it.  One look at the shaved forearms and I know how blessed I am to still have him in my life.

Grapes bad.
Emergency vet clinics very good.
End of story.

Sports writing

I'm not sure why I'm surprised to see my Twitter full of authors watching sports.  My first year of college, we were required to cover the local hockey team for the cable station.  First year students were cable runners.  I argued that I knew more about the sport than the guy on camera two.  He didn't know where the blue line was or why it was important. Aside from the fact that it's a giant line of blue painted right onto the ice, I was offended.  It took months for me to convince anyone that my point was valid. I showed up, pulled cables and discussed team strategy in the pre-game meeting. Because I had paid that much attention to the game, I was pretty good at anticipating what certain players would do with the puck once they got it.

Eventually, I challenged the guy on camera two (who went on to be a brilliant cameraman in LA so it was only hockey that failed him) to a quiz about the game. I managed to convince the teacher that IF I was  the winner, I could take over camera two. I won. Hands down. Then I set my sights on colour commentary.  Part of it was the challenge, part of it was true interest.  Of course, I ended up in the booth.  Feedback to the station was remarkably positive.  I say remarkable because my voice is not suited to on-air.  There was no disputing my knowledge.

None of that would be necessary today. Women have come a long way when it comes to sports broadcasts.  It was always ridiculous to assume gender had anything to do with knowledge in any field.

So why does it surprise me that so many romance authors love sports?  Few of them write them.  The bias still exists in publishing.  But I've been tweeting back and forth with a NASCAR team during the races lately and my head is spinning with a story idea as a result.That tends to happen no matter what subject I'm interested in - stories are everywhere. It doesn't mean that I'll do anything with that idea. Although...I do have NASCAR story started in the older files on my computer.

How do you feel about sports in romance novels?

Cars going through inspection at Indy 2013

Hiccups

I got stuck a lot longer than I expected. For every two words I threw on the page, I erased three.  It was ridiculous.  I knew it was temporary but something really hasn't worked the past couple of weeks.  Some of it has been external, some of it has been medication but some of it was internal.  Every night I lie in bed and think about my characters. I think about where they're going and how they're getting there.  I'm not stuck in that regard.

Two things trigger writing for me.  Music and water.  Water in a glass to drink or water outside my window for me to stare at.  Water clears my mind. Music fills it with other stuff so that I can focus on the scenes I need to write.

Today, I realized that my solution for the external story conflict was really good but possibly not the best one.  The other thing is the isolation in which both characters live. It''s important in the beginning but as the story and characters progress they are getting out more, interacting more and the external conflict would be a lot stronger if they pulled on all their new connections to defeat the antagonist. They are not the only ones affected by it.

The good news is that writing happens - even when words don't reach the page every day.

In other news, I've been watching a live feed from Iceland.  I tend to check it out to get a feel for the country but have been fascinated by the view of the volcano.  Bardarbunga2 shows the magma and ash plumes.

Creativity

It seems I'm always doing something creative.  I'm not a big rule follower so that hampers my productivity at times.  I write in layers. I sew by hand.  I mesh patterns together to knit a sweater.  I use multiple media when painting. I mess around with depth of field when out with my camera.  I'm not sure any of that creativity would support me (hence the library job that I love) but for the most part they make me happy.  

I'm struggling with layers of writing right now. Yes, I do put butt in the chair every day.  I throw a lot of words on the page but I'm most effective when I step away from the story and work at something else. My brain often needs the distraction of other colours and textures in order to work through sticking points.  

One good thing about feeling sub-par is that I've spent a lot of time reading and watching television.  Storytelling is storytelling regardless of medium.  The best way to become better at one's own craft is to study the best.  I've recognized the emotional punch that facial expressions can convey.  Those are easier to pull off in picture but the right words in a specific order can make me cry.  I'm a big fan of great dialogue.

Right now, I'm stuck on "The first face this face saw."  I'm up to date on Doctor Who thanks to a dress that needed to be finished for my niece's birthday party tomorrow. I hope she likes it. (it's scrunched for photography purposes)

What's your favourite dialogue?