Earlier today, I posted a blog in which I wondered how I could "vivify/enliven" my language. I decided to pray and think about it.
While slumping on the couch, with my oldest daughter sickly coughing in my lap, and my youngest playing her recorder, I considered Lent, fasting, and what I need to give up to re-focus my thoughts on the Lord and His plan for my life and my writing.
Instantly, it came to me. I knew exactly what I need to give up. The thought made me gulp with near panic. That near panic seemed like an affirmation. I asked my family if they thought I could give (gulp) "IT" up, and they laughed, snickered, chuckled, rolled, and winked at each other with delight.
I prayed. I thought, "God, you know if this is from you, I'll do it. But if it's not, there are so many ways I could continue doing that activity and serve you, especially during Lent." Ha. That may not be how God really answered, but I felt pretty foolish trying to justify an idol of distraction to the Creator of the Universe.
Realizing that I haven't been using this particular "idol" for much other than my own distraction, and not really for any loving service to the Lord, or at least not often, I also realized something else. I need to prove to myself that I can give "it" up for Lent.
I mean, really, how hard can it be?
During Lent, each Sunday is like a "mini" Easter filled with grace, and on each of those Sundays I can indulge in whatever I'm fasting from for Lent. So, from tomorrow through Easter, I'll have six Sundays to indulge.
So, what will I be fasting from?
If I make it public, you all be able to rebuke me if I fail . . . or laugh while rolling around on the floor like my family . . . but I'll tell you anyway.
I'll be fasting from facebook and my blogs.
Indulging only on Sundays.
This will be especially challenging at the beginning of March when I'll find out which March date my poem, "March Snow Hare" will be published at Every Day Poets. I hope they publish the list just one day early . . . please.
So, this is Fat Tuesday, and that's my plan for "vivifying/enlivening" my writing. Giving up my excess of writing distraction and going for the meat of my writing on a daily basis. Praying and asking God to Bless my work while fasting.
I know that many scriptures say that fasting should be done privately . . . and I've done that in the past, keeping fasts between me and my family members. However, for this one I need accountability partners. If you see me online, other than on Sundays, feel free to rebuke me, and tell me to get off.
And if you didn't know, fasting can be about anything. I've fasted from specific foods, specific types of reading, specific types of music, and even done some of those "extreme" fasts from food of all kind (only for 24 hours). It can also be done anytime, even though Lent is traditionally a good time to fast, as one of the Lenten disciplines. Fasting can bring spiritual, mental, emotional and physical health.
Think about it, pray about it, and let me know if you are fasting.
Just remember I can't answer comments until Sunday.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Vivify
vivify: to endue with life; to enliven.
Recently I read a blog that awed me with the writer's ability to vivify her writing.
Then I read this word from dictionary.com - yesterday's word, so perfect for today.
It seems that I write around my stories instead of through them some days.
I wish for a magic wand, a new vocabulary to vivify my writing.
My treasure map helps with my plotting, but what can I do about the words that feel pale, flat, listless and lazy, taking up the space with a sense of "blah"?
Prayer is my answer for now.
Recently I read a blog that awed me with the writer's ability to vivify her writing.
Then I read this word from dictionary.com - yesterday's word, so perfect for today.
It seems that I write around my stories instead of through them some days.
I wish for a magic wand, a new vocabulary to vivify my writing.
My treasure map helps with my plotting, but what can I do about the words that feel pale, flat, listless and lazy, taking up the space with a sense of "blah"?
Prayer is my answer for now.
Writing Treasures
A few weeks ago, I drew a treasure map to help me write a story.
This exercise came from a writing book I am using with my daughters for home schooling, but it has been an interesting exercise for me as a writer.
Although artistically challenged, the map making process and the story that has come forth from that exercise, have both made me wonder if this is an exercise I should complete before most of my stories.
Even though I have lost my treasure map, I remember the details of it, and my character is following the map in the story, on the way to her treasure. As a plotting and brainstorming tool, it has been invaluable.
For home schooling, this writing project is probably the most intense, in-depth and exciting one we have ever done, and we are each doing our own and then sharing them with each other. For two weeks, we have worked on these stories, and we aren't finished yet. As a home school parent, it has been a great joy to see my daughters excited about a writing project.
For my writing life, this writing project has been an entertaining and educational distraction from my other projects. Despite the distraction, I feel like I've learned a great deal about my writing process and what works for me. I love having a visual aid, even if the drawings look like chicken scratches.
So, if you are stuck in a plot (like I have been many times), try making yourself a "treasure" map, with the "x" marking the final scene in your story or book. Maybe it will work for you too.
This exercise came from a writing book I am using with my daughters for home schooling, but it has been an interesting exercise for me as a writer.
Although artistically challenged, the map making process and the story that has come forth from that exercise, have both made me wonder if this is an exercise I should complete before most of my stories.
Even though I have lost my treasure map, I remember the details of it, and my character is following the map in the story, on the way to her treasure. As a plotting and brainstorming tool, it has been invaluable.
For home schooling, this writing project is probably the most intense, in-depth and exciting one we have ever done, and we are each doing our own and then sharing them with each other. For two weeks, we have worked on these stories, and we aren't finished yet. As a home school parent, it has been a great joy to see my daughters excited about a writing project.
For my writing life, this writing project has been an entertaining and educational distraction from my other projects. Despite the distraction, I feel like I've learned a great deal about my writing process and what works for me. I love having a visual aid, even if the drawings look like chicken scratches.
So, if you are stuck in a plot (like I have been many times), try making yourself a "treasure" map, with the "x" marking the final scene in your story or book. Maybe it will work for you too.
Monday, February 15, 2010
a snippet of "True Love's Gifts" rough draft
A tap on her shoulder made her jump, and she turned to see Theo smiling at her. “May I have the honor of driving you home, Ann?” he asked.
She looked down, feeling extremely shy suddenly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the dancers go whirling by her. It felt like everything was whirling by her, and suddenly she felt irritated, almost angry at everyone planning her life, changing her plans for her.
“Or would you rather dance?” he asked.
“Well, my shoes are too wet for dancing,” she said, “And the least you can do is drive me home, and . . . explain some things,” she continued, straightening her shoulders, and picking up her bundle of wet clothes.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said mockingly.
“You know how I feel about being ‘ma-am’-ed,” she said, mock severely. “If you’re going to be that way, you can carry my wet dress,” she said, and thrust it at him.
He took it gingerly, and watched the water drip out from the hem of her dress. “I didn’t realize just how badly I had gotten you,” he said.
“Yes, you did,” she said. Then she picked up her heavy shawl, wrapped around her shoulders, and looked at the door.
“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” Theo asked her, his tone echoing the tone he had used on her so many times when they fought as children.
“Never,” she said.
“Well, at least never and always are somewhat related,” he said, with a smile, as he opened the door for her.
“They are opposites.”
“They both imply eternity.”
She didn’t say anything else, feeling as if she had been pulled out of her depth again, by his sincere tone.
She looked down, feeling extremely shy suddenly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the dancers go whirling by her. It felt like everything was whirling by her, and suddenly she felt irritated, almost angry at everyone planning her life, changing her plans for her.
“Or would you rather dance?” he asked.
“Well, my shoes are too wet for dancing,” she said, “And the least you can do is drive me home, and . . . explain some things,” she continued, straightening her shoulders, and picking up her bundle of wet clothes.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said mockingly.
“You know how I feel about being ‘ma-am’-ed,” she said, mock severely. “If you’re going to be that way, you can carry my wet dress,” she said, and thrust it at him.
He took it gingerly, and watched the water drip out from the hem of her dress. “I didn’t realize just how badly I had gotten you,” he said.
“Yes, you did,” she said. Then she picked up her heavy shawl, wrapped around her shoulders, and looked at the door.
“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” Theo asked her, his tone echoing the tone he had used on her so many times when they fought as children.
“Never,” she said.
“Well, at least never and always are somewhat related,” he said, with a smile, as he opened the door for her.
“They are opposites.”
“They both imply eternity.”
She didn’t say anything else, feeling as if she had been pulled out of her depth again, by his sincere tone.
Research and Rough Drafts?
My morning is late, and yet I ache with hope for my writing.
I have only a little more time, and I've come to a crossroads, a new scene, a new place, and I worry (doubt) that I haven't done enough research for the setting and the time. My characters are entering an early orphanage. Visions of Oliver dance through my head, and yet, I don't want this place to be that grim. Am I re-writing history? Were there any good orphanages in Europe in the 18th century?
Should I set my novel, True Love's Gifts, in a another time period? Another place? A fantastical setting that I can make up as I go?
These questions plague me, and yet I feel this need to write the story anyway, to get the characters, and their hopes, dreams and passions onto the page a little bit at a time.
How important is research to a rough draft?
Maybe I should ask my neice who went to an orphanage in Kenya recently, and re-set my story to a modern time? Except I'm not sure how any of it would work . . . with partridges, pears, turtledoves, and blackbirds . . . it seems I have to have a European or American setting . . . aaagh!
I have only a little more time, and I've come to a crossroads, a new scene, a new place, and I worry (doubt) that I haven't done enough research for the setting and the time. My characters are entering an early orphanage. Visions of Oliver dance through my head, and yet, I don't want this place to be that grim. Am I re-writing history? Were there any good orphanages in Europe in the 18th century?
Should I set my novel, True Love's Gifts, in a another time period? Another place? A fantastical setting that I can make up as I go?
These questions plague me, and yet I feel this need to write the story anyway, to get the characters, and their hopes, dreams and passions onto the page a little bit at a time.
How important is research to a rough draft?
Maybe I should ask my neice who went to an orphanage in Kenya recently, and re-set my story to a modern time? Except I'm not sure how any of it would work . . . with partridges, pears, turtledoves, and blackbirds . . . it seems I have to have a European or American setting . . . aaagh!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Love, Research, and Valentine's Day
Today, if I have a bit more time, I may pick up my romance story/novel, True Love's Gifts and work on it a bit more. Romance writing challenges me, and yet, my research compels me to pick it up again today.
I've been reading The Love Dare, thinking about the original St. Valentine and his story of sacrificial love, and thinking over some of those "love" scriptures that I like so well.
"Love requires thoughtfulness - on both sides - the kind that builds bridges through the constructive combination of patience, kindness and selflessness." - from p.18 of The Love Dare
"Two are better than one,
because they have good return for their work:
If one falls down,
his friend can help him up!
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up!
Also, if two lie down together, they will
keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrendur my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but always rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. for we know in part, and we prophesy in part, but when perfection appears, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13
Love is more than romance, more than rose petals, and more than candlelight. Love is every moment, includes the thorns and roots of the rosebush, and embraces the light of day.
What does love mean to you?
I've been reading The Love Dare, thinking about the original St. Valentine and his story of sacrificial love, and thinking over some of those "love" scriptures that I like so well.
"Love requires thoughtfulness - on both sides - the kind that builds bridges through the constructive combination of patience, kindness and selflessness." - from p.18 of The Love Dare
"Two are better than one,
because they have good return for their work:
If one falls down,
his friend can help him up!
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up!
Also, if two lie down together, they will
keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrendur my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but always rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. for we know in part, and we prophesy in part, but when perfection appears, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13
Love is more than romance, more than rose petals, and more than candlelight. Love is every moment, includes the thorns and roots of the rosebush, and embraces the light of day.
What does love mean to you?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Random Questions from the Benedictine
Random Questions For Writers from the Benedictine. Click on my title for the link to the original post.
Just for a little fun, a series of “writer personality” questions. Copy, paste, and answer these questions to introduce us to the type of writer you are. :)
-Do you have a pen/pencil collection? How many of those are chewed? We have many pens and pencils around our house, but between homeschooling, writing in every room, taking them with us in the car, and even outside on walks, sometimes they are hard to find. Sometimes they are chewed, but after having a pen break while I was chewing on the end, I've been mainly broken of that habit.
-Do you prefer handwriting or typing furiously? Hmm. Depends. Love typing, and love handwriting out stories. It depends on where I am, and what I have available. Typing is faster.
-How often do you get inspiration? All the time, and everywhere. If I feel uninspired it's usually because I'm tired.
-Are you blogging this on a computer or laptop? Laptop! Love being able to go anywhere with one.
-Do you get inspiration more in the early morning or late at night? Usually it hits me in random spurt throughout the day. Sometimes I wake up in the am with ideas ready to write, and sometimes they hit me about mid-morning, mid-afternoon, or just before I need to cook dinner.
-Do certain movies/books/music inspire you? Sometimes I don't think they have, but then I find myself writing on a certain theme or idea, and realize that I picked it up in a book, movie, poem, commercial or newspaper article.
-How do you incorporate God into your stories? God is always present, but not always as noticeable as He should be in my writing. I try to represent certain struggles and characteristics of a Christian life in my writing, whether it is poetry, fantasy, romance, or scifi.
-Do you kill off your villains or make them repent? Hmm. I kill some off, and make some repent. I love stories where repentance and redemption are done in a believable manner, and I hope to be able to write stories like that. I have a certain villian I worked with a few years ago in a novel that hasn't fully come to fruition yet, and I meant to kill him off, and then. . . I liked him too much and tried to redeem him.
-What genre of writing are you most comfortable in? Fantasy, SciFi, adventure, now dabbling in romance - fiction, and poetry, and a few devotionals.
-Do you work better alone or with someone else? Usually alone. I get really annoyed when my writing is interrupted, and I have to be careful if I'm writing in a public place. However, I like sharing my work with others, and hearing their feedback. My daughters have helped me make at least three of my stories much stronger and more exciting with their input, and I've had other writers help me out with that too.
-Do your stories make sense, or do they ramble wildly? In the end, they make sense, I think, however in the middle of writing a rough draft sometimes I take a wild side trip with a character that later doesn't make the cut.
-Are your characters mostly Renegades, Peacekeepers or a mish-mash? Renegades, peacekeepers, and "Bilbo" type characters who drag their feet at the start of the story, and then jump in with enthusiasm later. I seem to find myself writing stories where the heroine is often stuck in circumstances out of her control, and then she finds a way to make the adventure her own.
-Are you a sucker for good grammar? I don't think so, however I did have that one class in college and some of my bad grammar bugs me. Usually I shrug it off and move on until later.
-How is your handwriting? Hmm. Once upon a time I had the best handwriting in my sixth grade class. Thankfully I started out life ambidextrious, and only became left-handed to spite one of my teachers. After two arm injuries, and three arm surgeries, I can write with either hand and my handwriting is unreadable to anyone but me. I like to think of it as my own secret code.
-How evil are your villains? Hmm. Usually mildly villianous. I can think up the extremely evil types, but I generally don't want to write about them.
-Are you long-winded or succinct? Very long-winded.
-Do you have typical writer traits such as ink stains on your fingers or a pencil behind your ear? Ink traces, and glazed looks while thinking of story ideas. My kids might have to ask me the same question three times or more while I'm thinking of a story instead of paying enough attention to their home school lessons.
-Would someone walking past you on the street consider you normal? Most of the time these days, yes. However, there are occassions when I'm walking my dogs, and I sing or talk my thoughts out loud without meaning to . . . I think that's more of an only child habit and not a "writer" habit.
-Do you write mostly poetry, stories, novels or a mixture? Poetry, fiction, and devotions.
-Do your characters vary in accents, appearance and attitude or are they mostly the same? In appearance, they very wildly. In attitude and accents I hope they vary enough - sometimes I think I get stuck on character types.
-Do real people and/or places inspire your writing? Yes. Landcapes and pictures of people from the newspaper often inspire my writing. There are a few cut-outs that I keep to remind me of a certain look in a person's eyes, or a certain crowd scene. I also have a character that is very loosely based on a certain cooking show host - see my answer below.
-What is your favorite character? I don't know that I have a favorite, but I do love my tempermental characters, and there is is one character that showed up in a book unexpectedly. I keep thinking he needs his own story, since he is a chef, a spy, an assassin, and the leader of a rebellion. I like my shy characters too, who wait to grow into more assertive types by the end of their tales.
-Do you talk to your characters? Do they talk back? Not really. I've tried some writing exercises like that, but never enjoyed them.
-Are you more comfortable with girl or boy main characters? I’m comfortable with both.
-Do you follow basic overused plot lines with new twists thrown in or do you depart from the norm all the time? Hmm. I think I'm a plot line with new twists kind of person. I hope they aren't overused. Sometimes, I hear "don't do this with your plot" advice and decide to try it anyway.
-Do you feel God has called you to be a writer/poet? Will you grasp the power of the pen? Yes, and I'm so thankful that I'm not doing this on my own power.
Just for a little fun, a series of “writer personality” questions. Copy, paste, and answer these questions to introduce us to the type of writer you are. :)
-Do you have a pen/pencil collection? How many of those are chewed? We have many pens and pencils around our house, but between homeschooling, writing in every room, taking them with us in the car, and even outside on walks, sometimes they are hard to find. Sometimes they are chewed, but after having a pen break while I was chewing on the end, I've been mainly broken of that habit.
-Do you prefer handwriting or typing furiously? Hmm. Depends. Love typing, and love handwriting out stories. It depends on where I am, and what I have available. Typing is faster.
-How often do you get inspiration? All the time, and everywhere. If I feel uninspired it's usually because I'm tired.
-Are you blogging this on a computer or laptop? Laptop! Love being able to go anywhere with one.
-Do you get inspiration more in the early morning or late at night? Usually it hits me in random spurt throughout the day. Sometimes I wake up in the am with ideas ready to write, and sometimes they hit me about mid-morning, mid-afternoon, or just before I need to cook dinner.
-Do certain movies/books/music inspire you? Sometimes I don't think they have, but then I find myself writing on a certain theme or idea, and realize that I picked it up in a book, movie, poem, commercial or newspaper article.
-How do you incorporate God into your stories? God is always present, but not always as noticeable as He should be in my writing. I try to represent certain struggles and characteristics of a Christian life in my writing, whether it is poetry, fantasy, romance, or scifi.
-Do you kill off your villains or make them repent? Hmm. I kill some off, and make some repent. I love stories where repentance and redemption are done in a believable manner, and I hope to be able to write stories like that. I have a certain villian I worked with a few years ago in a novel that hasn't fully come to fruition yet, and I meant to kill him off, and then. . . I liked him too much and tried to redeem him.
-What genre of writing are you most comfortable in? Fantasy, SciFi, adventure, now dabbling in romance - fiction, and poetry, and a few devotionals.
-Do you work better alone or with someone else? Usually alone. I get really annoyed when my writing is interrupted, and I have to be careful if I'm writing in a public place. However, I like sharing my work with others, and hearing their feedback. My daughters have helped me make at least three of my stories much stronger and more exciting with their input, and I've had other writers help me out with that too.
-Do your stories make sense, or do they ramble wildly? In the end, they make sense, I think, however in the middle of writing a rough draft sometimes I take a wild side trip with a character that later doesn't make the cut.
-Are your characters mostly Renegades, Peacekeepers or a mish-mash? Renegades, peacekeepers, and "Bilbo" type characters who drag their feet at the start of the story, and then jump in with enthusiasm later. I seem to find myself writing stories where the heroine is often stuck in circumstances out of her control, and then she finds a way to make the adventure her own.
-Are you a sucker for good grammar? I don't think so, however I did have that one class in college and some of my bad grammar bugs me. Usually I shrug it off and move on until later.
-How is your handwriting? Hmm. Once upon a time I had the best handwriting in my sixth grade class. Thankfully I started out life ambidextrious, and only became left-handed to spite one of my teachers. After two arm injuries, and three arm surgeries, I can write with either hand and my handwriting is unreadable to anyone but me. I like to think of it as my own secret code.
-How evil are your villains? Hmm. Usually mildly villianous. I can think up the extremely evil types, but I generally don't want to write about them.
-Are you long-winded or succinct? Very long-winded.
-Do you have typical writer traits such as ink stains on your fingers or a pencil behind your ear? Ink traces, and glazed looks while thinking of story ideas. My kids might have to ask me the same question three times or more while I'm thinking of a story instead of paying enough attention to their home school lessons.
-Would someone walking past you on the street consider you normal? Most of the time these days, yes. However, there are occassions when I'm walking my dogs, and I sing or talk my thoughts out loud without meaning to . . . I think that's more of an only child habit and not a "writer" habit.
-Do you write mostly poetry, stories, novels or a mixture? Poetry, fiction, and devotions.
-Do your characters vary in accents, appearance and attitude or are they mostly the same? In appearance, they very wildly. In attitude and accents I hope they vary enough - sometimes I think I get stuck on character types.
-Do real people and/or places inspire your writing? Yes. Landcapes and pictures of people from the newspaper often inspire my writing. There are a few cut-outs that I keep to remind me of a certain look in a person's eyes, or a certain crowd scene. I also have a character that is very loosely based on a certain cooking show host - see my answer below.
-What is your favorite character? I don't know that I have a favorite, but I do love my tempermental characters, and there is is one character that showed up in a book unexpectedly. I keep thinking he needs his own story, since he is a chef, a spy, an assassin, and the leader of a rebellion. I like my shy characters too, who wait to grow into more assertive types by the end of their tales.
-Do you talk to your characters? Do they talk back? Not really. I've tried some writing exercises like that, but never enjoyed them.
-Are you more comfortable with girl or boy main characters? I’m comfortable with both.
-Do you follow basic overused plot lines with new twists thrown in or do you depart from the norm all the time? Hmm. I think I'm a plot line with new twists kind of person. I hope they aren't overused. Sometimes, I hear "don't do this with your plot" advice and decide to try it anyway.
-Do you feel God has called you to be a writer/poet? Will you grasp the power of the pen? Yes, and I'm so thankful that I'm not doing this on my own power.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
02/07/2010 foxtrot
02/07/2010
Posted using ShareThis
Hopefully this works - a great comic on game-playing and storytelling.
Click on the date under the title to go see my favorite comic from a few days ago.
Posted using ShareThis
Hopefully this works - a great comic on game-playing and storytelling.
Click on the date under the title to go see my favorite comic from a few days ago.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Decisions
After some thought, some time, some prayer, and a little inspiration, I've made some decisions about my many projects.
For the next month, I'm going to re-focus my efforts on my YA novel, The Crystal Sword, and put my romance novel, True Love's Gifts sit on the back burner. I might still work on it some days, but despite it being only a few days from Valentine's day, I'm feeling more into fantasy adventure than romance.
Romance with my husband - good. Romance on paper - not working currently.
Back to my writing life (trying to focus), I also have plans to write a poem each day, and work specifically on my "Paper Tiger" story. Everything else is being filed for March. "The Paper Tiger" is a new story in my "Dragonfold" world where the main character Azami can bring things to life through her paper-folding gift. If you are interested in reading the original (well, not the rough draft) story of Dragonfold, check out the link under my published titles list.
And as you may have noticed, my reference skills are rusty. I went to school when underlining novels, and putting short stories in quotes was the correct method. Now I can't find the underline button on my blog board, and I think it has changed. I need to buy a new manual of style.
So, have you made any decision lately regarding your writing?
Or have a Manual of Style to recommend?
For the next month, I'm going to re-focus my efforts on my YA novel, The Crystal Sword, and put my romance novel, True Love's Gifts sit on the back burner. I might still work on it some days, but despite it being only a few days from Valentine's day, I'm feeling more into fantasy adventure than romance.
Romance with my husband - good. Romance on paper - not working currently.
Back to my writing life (trying to focus), I also have plans to write a poem each day, and work specifically on my "Paper Tiger" story. Everything else is being filed for March. "The Paper Tiger" is a new story in my "Dragonfold" world where the main character Azami can bring things to life through her paper-folding gift. If you are interested in reading the original (well, not the rough draft) story of Dragonfold, check out the link under my published titles list.
And as you may have noticed, my reference skills are rusty. I went to school when underlining novels, and putting short stories in quotes was the correct method. Now I can't find the underline button on my blog board, and I think it has changed. I need to buy a new manual of style.
So, have you made any decision lately regarding your writing?
Or have a Manual of Style to recommend?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
"Dear Lucky Agent" Contest
This is the year of the contest!
Check out the "Dear Lucky Agent" Contest at the Guide to Literary Agents, or click on the title of this blog for a quick link to the contest.
This is the second "Dear Lucky Agent" Contest on the GLA blog. "This will be a recurring online contest with agent judges and super-cool prizes. Here's the deal: With every contest, the details are essentially the same, but the niche itself changes—meaning each contest is focused around a specific category or two. So if you're writing a book-length kids novel, this second contest is for you."
I decided to dust off a story I was working on a month ago, and send it in.
Check out the "Dear Lucky Agent" Contest at the Guide to Literary Agents, or click on the title of this blog for a quick link to the contest.
This is the second "Dear Lucky Agent" Contest on the GLA blog. "This will be a recurring online contest with agent judges and super-cool prizes. Here's the deal: With every contest, the details are essentially the same, but the niche itself changes—meaning each contest is focused around a specific category or two. So if you're writing a book-length kids novel, this second contest is for you."
I decided to dust off a story I was working on a month ago, and send it in.
too many projects?
Do you ever feel like you have too many projects?
I know I do sometimes.
And yet, I don't know if I would want to give any of them up.
Currently, I am working on a novel, three stories, some random poetry, a few devotional ideas I've been kicking around in my head, and . . . hmmm. I'm not sure if there is something else I should be keeping track of at the moment.
And that's just in my writing life. In other news . . . well, we home school, I teach Pre-School and Kindergarten Sunday School, the girls have busy dancing schedules, we volunteer at Harbor Hope Cat Rescue, we cook a meal a month at church, we ski/snowboard, enjoy Bible Study with a small group, and . . . oh yeah, there's the housework I often forget to do.
And I don't want to give up any of it . . . except sometimes the housework. However, yesterday I realized I wouldn't really want to give that up. No, really.
I started a fire on my stovetop accidentally, and found myself extremely thankful to have a kitchen, and a house, no matter how much I dislike cleaning.
So, do I want to give any of that up? No. Should I postpone some of my writing projects and just focus on one? Well, I would if I could. However, my mind seems to work on "random" better than "defined".
I do have character lists, and a plot chart for my novel because otherwise I couldn't keep track of all the "little" characters in there, but at this point in my rough draft, I'm just "going for it," and not worried about the cleanliness of the project. The only issue with that is that I've begun wondering if this is why I often don't finish projects that I've started. Is it because I am too random? Or working on too many things at the same time?
So, is it possible to have too many projects?
I know I do sometimes.
And yet, I don't know if I would want to give any of them up.
Currently, I am working on a novel, three stories, some random poetry, a few devotional ideas I've been kicking around in my head, and . . . hmmm. I'm not sure if there is something else I should be keeping track of at the moment.
And that's just in my writing life. In other news . . . well, we home school, I teach Pre-School and Kindergarten Sunday School, the girls have busy dancing schedules, we volunteer at Harbor Hope Cat Rescue, we cook a meal a month at church, we ski/snowboard, enjoy Bible Study with a small group, and . . . oh yeah, there's the housework I often forget to do.
And I don't want to give up any of it . . . except sometimes the housework. However, yesterday I realized I wouldn't really want to give that up. No, really.
I started a fire on my stovetop accidentally, and found myself extremely thankful to have a kitchen, and a house, no matter how much I dislike cleaning.
So, do I want to give any of that up? No. Should I postpone some of my writing projects and just focus on one? Well, I would if I could. However, my mind seems to work on "random" better than "defined".
I do have character lists, and a plot chart for my novel because otherwise I couldn't keep track of all the "little" characters in there, but at this point in my rough draft, I'm just "going for it," and not worried about the cleanliness of the project. The only issue with that is that I've begun wondering if this is why I often don't finish projects that I've started. Is it because I am too random? Or working on too many things at the same time?
So, is it possible to have too many projects?
Monday, February 8, 2010
growing up in a day
giant leaping cloud bunnies
nibbling at the bright sky
are asleep after dark
but my daughters, older now
are awake with performance makeup,
costumes and hair ribbons in place,
waiting for dance company pictures
nibbling at the bright sky
are asleep after dark
but my daughters, older now
are awake with performance makeup,
costumes and hair ribbons in place,
waiting for dance company pictures
Sunday, February 7, 2010
M.V.P.
So, on Superbowl Sunday, the question is, who is the Most Valuable Player?
Usually, this question refers to football players.
Not for me.
Who is the Most Valuable Player in your life?
In the history of the world?
My answer's already set as the cornerstone in my heart.
My Most Valuable/Valued Player: Jesus.
Who's yours?
Usually, this question refers to football players.
Not for me.
Who is the Most Valuable Player in your life?
In the history of the world?
My answer's already set as the cornerstone in my heart.
My Most Valuable/Valued Player: Jesus.
Who's yours?
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
some days
some days
I want to keep my writing to myself,
huddle over a notebook with a pen,
close my work with a lock,
and hold it inside where I can wonder
over it with hope and joy, and imagination.
some days
I shout it out over the net,
sharing too much, throwing up the words
like they are unwanted confetti,
holding my shoulders back to take
the criticism that comes, and show
that somehow I don't mind.
some days
I write with my kids, and
we draw maps with obstacles
for our characters to cross,
adventures that point us to the
x that marks the spot, the treasure
of story writing and sharing our fun
ideas with each other, curled up on the couch.
some days
I carry my notebook and my laptop
into every room of the house, in the car,
and to church, to all the places I go, and
I write and write, and write, and then
I chase my family around saying, "read, read, read."
some days
my daughters chase me around the house
with their notebooks in hand, asking me to listen
to their work, while I chop vegetables for dinner,
fold the laundry, pile homeschool books up on the table,
and
sometimes I stop what I'm doing and just listen,
happy that I've somehow taught them the excitement
I feel in writing stories, and poems, and just playing with words.
I want to keep my writing to myself,
huddle over a notebook with a pen,
close my work with a lock,
and hold it inside where I can wonder
over it with hope and joy, and imagination.
some days
I shout it out over the net,
sharing too much, throwing up the words
like they are unwanted confetti,
holding my shoulders back to take
the criticism that comes, and show
that somehow I don't mind.
some days
I write with my kids, and
we draw maps with obstacles
for our characters to cross,
adventures that point us to the
x that marks the spot, the treasure
of story writing and sharing our fun
ideas with each other, curled up on the couch.
some days
I carry my notebook and my laptop
into every room of the house, in the car,
and to church, to all the places I go, and
I write and write, and write, and then
I chase my family around saying, "read, read, read."
some days
my daughters chase me around the house
with their notebooks in hand, asking me to listen
to their work, while I chop vegetables for dinner,
fold the laundry, pile homeschool books up on the table,
and
sometimes I stop what I'm doing and just listen,
happy that I've somehow taught them the excitement
I feel in writing stories, and poems, and just playing with words.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
reassurance
Last night and the night before, it seemed that my fears got the best of me . . . had me jumping at every little thing like the lights going out, a few odd noises, the dogs and cat acting a little strange.
The reality is, even though I have had some bad experiences in the past, complete with a phone stalker in high school and a few creepy ex-boyfriends, there is someone who I can rely on when I think I'm alone, when I'm worried or frightened.
In fact, I can say that I've been saved a few times by divine intervention.
So the question is, why do I fear? Why do I forget to trust in God?
As I thought about this while I woke this morning, a scripture came to mind, but I couldn't quite remember all of it . . . something about the devil circling like hungry lions . . .so I searched it out and here it is. . . another answer to my prayers.
"Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your bothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of suffering.
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Chirst, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 4:8-11
The reality is, even though I have had some bad experiences in the past, complete with a phone stalker in high school and a few creepy ex-boyfriends, there is someone who I can rely on when I think I'm alone, when I'm worried or frightened.
In fact, I can say that I've been saved a few times by divine intervention.
So the question is, why do I fear? Why do I forget to trust in God?
As I thought about this while I woke this morning, a scripture came to mind, but I couldn't quite remember all of it . . . something about the devil circling like hungry lions . . .so I searched it out and here it is. . . another answer to my prayers.
"Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your bothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of suffering.
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Chirst, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 4:8-11
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
fight scene blogfest entry
This is from an old dog-eared novel of mine that I can't seem to finish properly, but the fight scene blogfest at Crimson Ink caught my attention and fit my mood, so here's my fight scene:
A Training Accident
A warning klaxon started to sound. Janice felt herself flinch. Zumi had been talking about trying to escape today. As if anyone could escape from a station the size of a moon. She had tried to ignore him.
Without Lieutenant’s Sagat’s close supervision she could get a better picture of her surroundings, so she looked up and stopped working. Sagat was barely visible around the bend in the hallway. The other cadets were sitting still all looking in his direction, and then Tonney looked at her with a hard glare.
“You.” He got up from his place in their line, and picked up his bucket.
Janice stood also, only holding her brush.
“You got me into this mess, and now you know something about this, don’t you?” He pointed at the red revolving light nearest to them.
Janice backed away, knowing the punishment for fighting meant three days locked in solitary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tonney.”
He threw the bucket of water at her, and she sidestepped the murky water. She instantly realized her mistake, as he jabbed her stomach with the hard side of his brush.
She stumbled back, and grabbed his arm as she fell to the floor. He came down with her, and she rolled him over onto his back with a kick to his groin, and a heave of her arms.
A booted foot against her neck stopped her from scrambling up. Lieutenant Sagat pressed his weight into her throat for a moment, and then released her. “Haven’t had enough solitary, crudet?”
“She knows something . . .” Tonney gasped. “I heard her and that Bel-Arrivan talking about escape.”
Lieutenant Sagat looked away from Janice and focused his attention on Tonney. She wanted to clear herself of any guilt, but knew that interrupting the Lieutenant would only bring worse treatment.
“And you, my pet ferret, forgot to mention this information to me until now.” Lieutenant Sagat nudged Tonney’s ribs with the toe of his boot.
Janice winced in memory of what that boot had done to her own ribs the first week of “boot camp” as Lieutenant Sagat evilly called the first few weeks of their training.
“Sir, I would have but we were scrubbing after breakfast, and I had no chance to tell you, sir, please.”
It was sickening how a bully like Tonney could cower in front of a bigger bully like Lieutenant Sagat. She wondered if this was how all officers began, or if Sagat was a special case, along with Tonney.
Lieutenant Sagat chuckled at Tonney, and then turned away from him and back to her. “On your feet, crudet, and tell me the whole story. If you leave anything out, I’ll keep you in solitary for a week.”
Janice stood up, slowly, taking time to study her reddened, cold toes, and the black foor beneath them. Zumi was one of the few cadets she respected, well, actually, liked. He had a way of taking control of situations and making their team have the advantage over the others. His idea of escape was the only foolish idea he seemed to have had. She couldn’t rat on him, especially since Lieutenant Sagat had a way of punishing her anyway. She might tell him all and spend a week in solitary anyway. She straightened her shoulders, sucked her stomach in, and focused on the sound of the klaxons. If Zumi had found a way out of this hell, a week in solitary would be worth it.
“I’m waiting, crudet.”
She ignored Lieutenant Sagat, looking over his black uniformed shoulder at the wall beyond. She saw the flicker of his fist a moment before it connected with her jaw, and she didn’t flinch. The pain blossomed incredibly from jawbone to ear, to head, and then darkness thankfully engulfed her.
A Training Accident
A warning klaxon started to sound. Janice felt herself flinch. Zumi had been talking about trying to escape today. As if anyone could escape from a station the size of a moon. She had tried to ignore him.
Without Lieutenant’s Sagat’s close supervision she could get a better picture of her surroundings, so she looked up and stopped working. Sagat was barely visible around the bend in the hallway. The other cadets were sitting still all looking in his direction, and then Tonney looked at her with a hard glare.
“You.” He got up from his place in their line, and picked up his bucket.
Janice stood also, only holding her brush.
“You got me into this mess, and now you know something about this, don’t you?” He pointed at the red revolving light nearest to them.
Janice backed away, knowing the punishment for fighting meant three days locked in solitary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tonney.”
He threw the bucket of water at her, and she sidestepped the murky water. She instantly realized her mistake, as he jabbed her stomach with the hard side of his brush.
She stumbled back, and grabbed his arm as she fell to the floor. He came down with her, and she rolled him over onto his back with a kick to his groin, and a heave of her arms.
A booted foot against her neck stopped her from scrambling up. Lieutenant Sagat pressed his weight into her throat for a moment, and then released her. “Haven’t had enough solitary, crudet?”
“She knows something . . .” Tonney gasped. “I heard her and that Bel-Arrivan talking about escape.”
Lieutenant Sagat looked away from Janice and focused his attention on Tonney. She wanted to clear herself of any guilt, but knew that interrupting the Lieutenant would only bring worse treatment.
“And you, my pet ferret, forgot to mention this information to me until now.” Lieutenant Sagat nudged Tonney’s ribs with the toe of his boot.
Janice winced in memory of what that boot had done to her own ribs the first week of “boot camp” as Lieutenant Sagat evilly called the first few weeks of their training.
“Sir, I would have but we were scrubbing after breakfast, and I had no chance to tell you, sir, please.”
It was sickening how a bully like Tonney could cower in front of a bigger bully like Lieutenant Sagat. She wondered if this was how all officers began, or if Sagat was a special case, along with Tonney.
Lieutenant Sagat chuckled at Tonney, and then turned away from him and back to her. “On your feet, crudet, and tell me the whole story. If you leave anything out, I’ll keep you in solitary for a week.”
Janice stood up, slowly, taking time to study her reddened, cold toes, and the black foor beneath them. Zumi was one of the few cadets she respected, well, actually, liked. He had a way of taking control of situations and making their team have the advantage over the others. His idea of escape was the only foolish idea he seemed to have had. She couldn’t rat on him, especially since Lieutenant Sagat had a way of punishing her anyway. She might tell him all and spend a week in solitary anyway. She straightened her shoulders, sucked her stomach in, and focused on the sound of the klaxons. If Zumi had found a way out of this hell, a week in solitary would be worth it.
“I’m waiting, crudet.”
She ignored Lieutenant Sagat, looking over his black uniformed shoulder at the wall beyond. She saw the flicker of his fist a moment before it connected with her jaw, and she didn’t flinch. The pain blossomed incredibly from jawbone to ear, to head, and then darkness thankfully engulfed her.
at night
at night when the windows
shimmer black
and there is a sound,
not quite defined.
the dogs bark, and whine
the cat looks alarmed.
the phone rings,
breathing -
and nothing else
the lights go out,
darkness surrounds me
and I listen,
crouching
down,
waiting,
then impatiently
jumpng up for
the flashlight,
going to get
the gun that's
locked in my safe.
shimmer black
and there is a sound,
not quite defined.
the dogs bark, and whine
the cat looks alarmed.
the phone rings,
breathing -
and nothing else
the lights go out,
darkness surrounds me
and I listen,
crouching
down,
waiting,
then impatiently
jumpng up for
the flashlight,
going to get
the gun that's
locked in my safe.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Why I Write
Why do I write?
I write because
it creates an inner sun break on a rainy day
because I crave to see my words dance on a page,
make a rhythm that force my feet to dance,
and help me find my voice.
I write because
it keeps me sane
when the world around me seems anything but.
I write because
it strengthens my relationships,
relieves the tensions, gives purpose
to those moments I don't always understand.
I write because
I feel that I have been called,
and sometimes even gifted,
although those moments are rare,
I know somehow God meets me here
on this blank page filling slowly
with awkward words, hopes, dreams,
dances, stumbles, extreme cliff jumps
and puddle splashes, grey skies and rainbows.
I write because
it creates an inner sun break on a rainy day
because I crave to see my words dance on a page,
make a rhythm that force my feet to dance,
and help me find my voice.
I write because
it keeps me sane
when the world around me seems anything but.
I write because
it strengthens my relationships,
relieves the tensions, gives purpose
to those moments I don't always understand.
I write because
I feel that I have been called,
and sometimes even gifted,
although those moments are rare,
I know somehow God meets me here
on this blank page filling slowly
with awkward words, hopes, dreams,
dances, stumbles, extreme cliff jumps
and puddle splashes, grey skies and rainbows.
A penchant for mondegreens
To borrow a few words from Dictionary.com's Word of the Day listing, I have to say that I have a definite penchant for mondegreens.
Mondegreens are the cause a great deal of laughter in our household.
One can just imagine what I thought my daughter was saying one day, when she tried to ask me to put a "bun in her hair" before dance class . . . and I was across the house, and mistook the "n" sound for a "t". We've laughed over that one several times.
Then my parents, who are both partially deaf even with hearing aids, regularly add to this hilarity. One day, with six of us riding in a mini-van, we had a hysterical conversation regarding a friend's family name. "Missed Carrot?" "No!"
Someday, maybe all this will make it's way into a story . . . or just become part of the family legends.
Mondegreens are the cause a great deal of laughter in our household.
One can just imagine what I thought my daughter was saying one day, when she tried to ask me to put a "bun in her hair" before dance class . . . and I was across the house, and mistook the "n" sound for a "t". We've laughed over that one several times.
Then my parents, who are both partially deaf even with hearing aids, regularly add to this hilarity. One day, with six of us riding in a mini-van, we had a hysterical conversation regarding a friend's family name. "Missed Carrot?" "No!"
Someday, maybe all this will make it's way into a story . . . or just become part of the family legends.
New Month, Same Sky
New month, same sky
white gray fills the eye
from horizon to horizon.
There was a sun break
yesterday.
I missed most of it
because I stopped looking out
stopped noticing the trees reaching upward
to catch every ray of sun that fights
it's way through the pervasive clouds.
stopped budding like the buds on the tree
by my front porch window,
the tree that insists it is spring
before any other plant knows it.
Time to start again.
white gray fills the eye
from horizon to horizon.
There was a sun break
yesterday.
I missed most of it
because I stopped looking out
stopped noticing the trees reaching upward
to catch every ray of sun that fights
it's way through the pervasive clouds.
stopped budding like the buds on the tree
by my front porch window,
the tree that insists it is spring
before any other plant knows it.
Time to start again.
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