Winter

As a reminder, the subtitle of this blog is Ramblings of an Author in Progress, so ramble I will.


We have had an unseasonably mild winter in the Midwest.  I'm not complaining!  But this morning on the train it was COLD.  You'd think I would move to a warmer car, but I'm a creature of habit, so I didn't. I will admit that I'm generally hot by the time we reach the city, so I was willing to be a little cold on my ride in this morning.  El Nino or La Nina or global warming, whatever it is that's sparing us frigid temps and mountains of snow, I'm not going to complain. My sympathy for our European friends, who are getting what we're missing.

I watched part of the Grammys last night, and I saw the 60 Minutes interview with Adele beforehand.  I do love her voice, and I am a fan.  Wouldn't say devoted fan, but I do like her music.  Along those lines, she did inspire me to move ahead on one of the stories I outlined.

Every story an author writes contains snippets of themselves and the people they know.  I've been holding back on one of my stories, which was inspired by one of those "that doesn't happen in real life" moments when I was watching a movie.  I thought it was time to present a touch of reality and a "different" happily ever after type of ending.  In fairness, I've seen both version of the endings in question, but it was a moment that struck close to home and prompted me to outline my version of the story.  After an appropriate gestation period, I think it's time to begin the writing process. Naturally, I pick this time of the year to start - when my day job is the most hectic and challenging.  Maybe that's why I picked now.  I need the release that comes with writing!

In the meantime, I'm still shopping Living Canvas.  Epitaph is still sitting on the shelf but probably ready to go.  Maybe some tweaking and definitely some serious shopping effort, but it's time to move forward.

And so it goes . . .

Furry Friends

I thought I'd wax poetic on my cat today.  I mean, why not?  I always think about the Star Trek episode, "The Trouble with Tribbles."  Aren't cats tribbles, after all?

This is a picture "under the Christmas tree."  She's gorgeous, isn't she?  Funny thing about Ms. Cat.  She's a younger sibling, and when her big brother crossed the rainbow bridge last year, she went from shy, yet cuddly, to vocal and untouchable. This poor kitty was left for dead in a dumpster when she was six weeks old.  She's going to be 11 this year, and clearly suffers only psychological trauma from that event. When we adopted her, she was very sick. I didn't think she was going to make it, and yet she did.  She's a tough kitty.  I do believe that she continues to suffer chronic respiratory ailments as a result of those formative years, however.  She's a sneezer and a wheezer quite often, although she's been clear for a month now. She's done several regimens of antibiotics, and this last round made me realize just how sick she was prior.  I tend to take for granted that the sneezing and wheezing are chronic and don't always rush to the vet. After this last go round, the difference in before antiobiotics and after was tangible.  She can breathe again, so she's playing again and cuddling again. She doesn't run from The Big Guy as much, and although she continues to be shy, she is more outgoing as she ages - more so now that she's feeling better again. And I'm tripping all over her toys again.

Recently, I received an iPad to play with. While I was learning to use it, a friend suggested I try a game.  A game that requires you to swipe different directions and tilt the tablet to move your "guy."  So I was sitting on the couch, and Ms. Cat, who is still mildly untouchable (you can pet her when SHE says so), walks up to me and starts rubbing her chin on the corner of the iPad.  While I'm tilting it to keep my "guy" from dying.  Crash. Into a wall, or into the lake.  She made my character die!  And of course the minute I reach over to pet her to allay her need for affection, she walks away. "Don't touch me!"  Yeah, only when I'm playing with the iPad and then it's "pet me, play with me, pay attention to me."  Silly cat.  Lots of personality, Ms. Cat has.

Call of the Wild

Remember how I was going on about the snow?

We had another storm, just as peaceful, and DH and I sat back blissfully ignoring it until the next day when we went out to clear a path into the world. So while DH was blowing the driveway clean, I took a shovel to the back deck and spotted something odd in the backyard. At first I thought it was a tuft of grass, as if a squirrel had gotten hungry and dug through the snow to find some nuts.  There were also several sets of animal tracks in the yard. But something didn't look quite right.  So I wandered into the yard to take a closer look, and am I sorry I did!

No. It wasn't a tuft of grass. The first spot I came to was actually the squirrel's tail.  EWWW. And just beyond that, well let's just say it was a pile of uninhabited fur.

On that happy note, I was happy to go back inside and finish working on editorial comments that I'd received for Living Canvas. Yes, I finally got professional feedback, and I have to say I'm pleasantly surprised. This story has been a struggle for me, and after all the iterations, I needed that fresh set of eyes. Her comments were upbeat, positive, and the areas for improvement were completely do-able and not a surprise to me. That being said, I think I can put this story to rest. I'm shopping it one last time before I move on to the NEXT BIG THING.


In honor of "the end," here is the inspiration for the setting in Living Canvas. Isn't it a beautiful house!

Snow

There really is something magical about snow. It casts the world in a whole different light.

My husband will tell you there's nothing to love about snow. Absolutely nothing.  But I argue that it's beautiful. It makes the world look clean and bright, even if only for a couple of hours. It shrouds the earth with a noise-deadening blanket. It sparkles in the sunlight.  Yes, you have to shovel it if you intend to go anywhere. Yes, the plows come by and throw dirt on the crust. Yes, it makes driving treacherous at times. But sometimes, sometimes it makes you come to a dead stop when you've been rushing around. It makes you take stock of the world around you rather than focusing on something that likely isn't as important as you originally thought it was.

Am I getting too philosophical?

In the Midwest, we see lots of snow over the course of the winter, and I'm the first to admit that during those years where the snow doesn't seem to end, I'm good and done with it. This year, we've had an unseasonably warm winter so far, and no White Christmas. This past week was the first "real" snow we've had this season. We've had an inch here and there, but this time we got five inches. Still not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but enough to really be snow and not just a teaser. It was enough to make me want to take a snow day, even though it wasn't warranted. Enough to make a cup of hot chocolate and look out the window at the wonder of the changed landscape. Enough to turn down the noise in my mind and appreciate the quiet.

I'm sure if you check back with me in another month, after the snow is no longer a novelty, my opinion will be slightly different, but for now, I'm going to enjoy the fresh canvas outside my window.

And to my dear husband - at least it's not oobleck, eh?

At a loss for words

There are some days when the words just won’t come. Of course this is counterbalanced by those days when I can sit at my keyboard and type for 8 hours straight and still feel like I haven’t gotten it all down.

I’m still editing Living Canvas, although the editor who had started to work with me dropped out. Now I’m not going to say anything nasty about her, although I’m extremely disappointed that although she knew exactly what the story was about (evidenced by a detailed synopsis) she suddenly decided that she didn’t edit my genre. ANYWAY, there is a Plan B.

Living Canvas is one of those stories that I somehow can’t let go of, and for that reason, it has been through the meat grinder more than once. I began writing it 5-6 years ago and realized, after the first few chapters, that it didn’t have any direction. My first several attempts at writing were all by the seat of my pants - let the story flow, I’ll work out the details later kind of writing. Living Canvas is the first story I wrote where I understood the importance of at least some sketch of an outline. Otherwise you just have boring characters living a day-to-day life. This story has been recrafted into an inspirational (which nearly got picked up), a straight romance, a paranormal (which it was always intended to be, but lacked direction), and a murder mystery. With all the rewrites, I’ve reached a point where I don’t remember which storyline follows – enter the enhanced need for an editor. I think I finally have “The Story” that I want to tell. This is the last incarnation – whether it sells or whether it sucks (pardon my language). In the meantime, I still have Epitaph to clean-up if I hope to sell that one and I have two outlines for new stories waiting for the chance to gestate and find their way onto paper.

All those things people tell you when you begin writing – write what you know; stay true to your story; etc. – it’s true. Maybe that’s why Living Canvas is so personal for me. I got lost somewhere along the line trying to fit it into a cubbyhole and got away from the “my idea” part of the story. Beta readers and critique groups kept trying to mold my ideas into their own and because it started out a little tenuously (without direction), I followed everyone else’s thoughts. Now I love my Beta readers and my critique groups, but the important thing to remember is that the story is MINE. Even in this version of Living Canvas, one of my dearest friends kept trying to push me into an alternate story line that didn’t work for me. That being said, she did give me one crucial key to this version which “makes” the story for me. The way she wanted me to use that idea was so far out there that even I couldn’t wrap my head around it. She’s a wonderfully creative friend, but sometimes her ideas run amok. Fortunately for me, I was able to rein it in, and in the end, it helped me focus my thoughts into what I wanted for this story. Me. Now it’s just a matter of improving my characterizations, which is something that I have to work very hard at. It’s difficult when you see something so clearly in your head to realize other people don’t see it the same way. It’s the work part of writing – conveying those visions into words. And that’s the direction my editing has taken now.

So wish me luck, and keeping my fingers crossed that the new editor can help me make sure I haven’t lost a thread in the story or repeated a scene in the latest version (because honestly, even in reading it again, I can’t remember if I included it or omitted it this time around). I’m hoping to have this thing DONE so I can move forward.

And a Happy New Year

I'm hoping that everyone reading this enjoyed the first holiday of the season and was able to spend some time with family and/or friends.  Now on to New Year's.

Some years back, I learned about the Scottish celebration of Hogmanay.  It's one of those odd holidays where they can't tell you exactly how it started or what it means, but one of my favorite definitions is that the word is a derivation of "hug me now."  There are many customs, both national and local, associated with Hogmanay. The most widespread national custom is the practice of 'first-footing' which starts immediately after midnight. This involves being the first person to cross the threshold of a friend or neighbour and often involves the giving of symbolic gifts such as salt (less common today), coal, shortbread, whisky, and black bun (a rich fruit cake) intended to bring different kinds of luck to the householder. Food and drink (as the gifts) are then given to the guests. This may go on throughout the early hours of the morning and well into the next day (although modern days see people visiting houses well into the middle of January). The first-foot is supposed to set the luck for the rest of the year. Traditionally, tall dark men are preferred as the first-foot.  One of these days that might just make a good setting for a story, eh? I have friends who have spent hogmanay in Scotland - sounds like a good enough reason to go back (as if I need a good reason).

Meanwhile, I'm making excellent progress with Living Canvas. It should be ready in time for the Chicago writer's conference.  And in case I haven't mentioned it lately {G} the tenth anniversary edition of The Treasure of St. Paul, retitled Touched by the Sun, is available for e-readers (Kindle, Nook, Sony, etc.) and a hard copy will be available by the first of the year (if not sooner). I've included links below . . .

Click here if you have a Kindle.

Click here if you have a Nook.

And click here if you have another e-reader.

To purchase a paperback copy, click here

(this concludes the commercial portion of this post).


Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

It's here!  Touched by the Sun - the 10th Anniversary Edition of The Treasure of St. Paul is now available for e-readers.  You can find it at BN.com (click here) or at the Kindle Store, and also available for Sony Readers and in other formats (including downloadable PDF) at Smashwords (click here).  The paperback version should be available at Amazon after the first of the year.  Spread the news, tell all your friends and for those folks that get an e-reader for Christmas (or are giving an ereader for Christmas), make sure you download a copy!

Now it's full speed ahead with Living Canvas.  I'm grateful for the editor who is working with me, and there will obviously be some delay through the holidays as we all take time to spend with our loved ones, but I'm excited to be moving forward once more. 

I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah (Today!), Happy Holidays, Happy New Year.  May our lives be filled with peace, love and joy in the upcoming year.