WPW: Scratching

See Ali's blog for the guidelines for Writing Prompt Wednesday.



The scratching started up again. Under the sink. Where the huge bag of dog kibble was stored. I told him to buy one of those big Rubbermaid tubs to put it in. But no.

I reached back and smoothed the hairs on the back of my neck, the ones that stood up whenever I was scared. I knew what made the noise. Recognized it from childhood. Mice. Back then it was field mice that came in the house to get warm. "They're more scared of you than you are of them," my mother said. Impossible. And now it was late October and the weather had turned cold.

We'd tried traps, all kinds. But the scratching continued. Always when he was at work. Night shift, of course. That's when bartenders get the good tips. He said he believed me. But there was that look.

So I bought a book. Then I collected the supplies: a small cauldron, charcoal, sage for cleansing, a tiger's eye to protect and draw down spiritual energy, black salt to keep away evil (and mice are evil), and a mixture of herbs for banishing.

Early evening on the 31st, I started by lighting the sage and smudging the whole house, all four rooms of it. Then I lit the charcoal and threw the herbs and salt on it. As the smoke rose toward the ceiling (making my eyes water so I opened the window a crack), I clutched the stone in my hand and pictured the mice rising up and away on the smoke. I threw a few more herbs on the fire for good measure.

I awoke to him standing over me. My teeth chattered in the coldness of the room. All the windows were wide open and the ceiling fan spun above me. "The neighbors thought the house was on fire."

The scratching didn't return.

Missed Hallowe’en, though. Rats.

November Goals

I pretty much rocked October, especially given that it was chock full of extra-curricular activites. I finished everything. Well, everything but getting all the way through TNN. That was due in no small part to doing exactly what I'd said I wouldn't do after it happened with Vesta. After the first feedback session at CWC, I decided to rip everything apart and put it back together --better! faster! stronger!--before the next submission. In a month--right. Please remind me of this when I submit the first part of my next manuscript, whatever that may be.

Time to set goals for November. No NaNoWriMo for me this month. I have tons to revise since Jenny challenged me to put a revised full of MMG through the group soon. And then there's Vesta waiting to be revised as well.

I want to finish the first draft of TNN before I start the MMG revisions. I have maybe 100 pages to go, and there will be a submission due in January. I doubt it will be the rest of the story, but should get everyone close to the end. Of course, the critique for this month. It'll be great to revisit Mary's TF. And then revisions, revisions, revisions. I don't know that I'll finish this month, but I have until the end of March. I, foolishly perhaps, raised my hand on Monday night and claimed March to submit the full.

Should be a busy, but fun month.

Forced Focus

Regular readers of this blog know that I sometimes--okay, often--have trouble focusing my attention on one project. That other one over there in the corner always seems to be more interesting than the one right here in front of me.

Tomorrow I leave for almost a week in Florida. I'll be visiting family and friends, attending a Chris Botti concert and generally relaxing and having a good time. But there will be lots of time on planes and in airports. And I tend to wake up much earlier than anyone else in the family so there will be some time to fill there as well. Which works out, because I have to submit at least 50 pages of TNN on the 26th of this month. I have about that amount already. However, they follow my original train of thought on the project and things have changed since my last submission. Not many days to complete a lot of work. See sidebar for complete list.

While gathering and packing things to take, I found myself wanting to grab the MMG notebook to throw in. And maybe a couple more research books for Vesta. I could take those books I ordered on Prohibition for a future project I have in mind. Then reality hit. All that paper is damn heavy. I'm not going lug all of that through the COS, DFW and Orlando airports. Twice. So, only TNN and only what I need at this moment in time. That, the netbook and my journal? Easy peasy to carry around.

And I will have to focus on the one project, because that's all I'll have with me. Maybe I should go away to write all the time.

Wouldn't that be loverly?

WPW: Fuchsia Feather

See Ali's blog for rules.

I have no idea, but there has to be a good story to go with this....

The woman with the teal blue hat tottered into the cafe on bright red stilettos. The black band around the wide brim held a fuchsia feather that bobbed in time to her unsteady steps. The air around her thick with the smell of espresso and tapas, now blending with Chanel No. 22.

All eyes watched as she made her way to the counter. Eyes in young faces. Young faces with single chins and slender, healthy bodies. Most wearing jeans and t-shirts. A few with funky tie-dye skirts and gauzy blouses.

She reached into the banana yellow handbag and pulled out a ten. "A glass of chardonnay, please."

The counter man's sleek muscles rippled under the tight black shirt as he poured the wine. He glanced at the woman and poured a little more into the glass. "Six dollars, ma'am."

The ten slid across the counter, and the woman picked up the glass by the stem. "Keep the change." Another, shorter, expedition--seemingly in time with the jazz standard playing in the background--across the slick tile floor brought her to the table for two in the very back, very dark corner. The chartreuse dress strained as she sat, but she sighed with satisfaction to be off her feet for a time.

Anyone still watching saw her lift the glass in salute to the empty chair across from her before she took the first sip.

It's October As Far As I'm Concerned

I usually hold out until the last gasp of a month before I decide on my goals for the next one. But after getting my feedback on TNN from CWC last night, I know I'll need the extra day or two to get where I need to be by the next meeting.

The group did it again. I don't think there was a single suggestion that I didn't think was valid. Even if a couple might have been contradictory, I knew where each person was coming from. And either way would work. It's just down to me on how I want to go.

My goals are listed on the left. As you can see, there is a lot of prep work to do before I actually get back to work on what's next. The time line is going to be tightened, which means deciding where to start the story for the most impact. I'm adding a job for the mother and a family member. I need to draw out a floor plan for each of the 3 (possibly 4) floors in the house so that I don't gain and lose space as I'm doing now.

I would be more frustrated with myself, but I'm learning that this is all part of my process. Would it be easier if I had a clearer idea of what the whole plot was when I started? Well, of course. But I seem to need to write at least half the book before I can really decide what it's about. Maybe I'll grow out of that as a writer. I kinda hope so. But, for now at least, the gang seems to be willing to go along with me.

October is going to be crazy. I have a lot of social events to attend--I know, poor me. There's the trip to visit family and friends in the middle of the month. And we need to schedule Ali's dinner for winning the race. I'm thinking after that, NaNoWriMo is a definite pass this year. Besides, Jenny pointed out that I really need to submit a complete and revised version of MMG to the group so they can evaluate what I've done with the feedback on that. And there are two other novels waiting for revision as well. It doesn't make sense to start something new until I'm really truly done with those.

So, no pressure.

So What Have We Learned?

What did I learn from the recent contest?

--That 3,000 words a day is a lot until someone you're competing with writes 10,000.
--That you don't necessarily have to be "in the mood" or "inspired" to write.
--However, certain scenes are easier (or at least less difficult) if you are "in the mood."
--I'm competitive, but also know my limits.
--That Murphy will rear his ugly head at inopportune times.
--That eliminating contractions bumps word count without a lot of pain. Kidding! A little bit.
--That it can be very satisfying to watch a friend whup ass.
--That writing very quickly helps quiet the Inner Heckler (which I already knew).
--That writing very quickly also may mean losing track of secondary characters, subplots and (more concerning) the protagonist's voice.
--That even with some of the things I dropped along the way, I'm still liking this story and my protagonist very much.
--That when you get in the habit of writing every day, it feels weird when you don't write for a day (which I also already knew, but needed to be reminded of).
--That it's good to have a prize that everyone gets to enjoy.

I'm sure I'll discover more as I continue working on TNN and other projects. It was hard and frustrating at times, but definitely worthwhile.

So, what can you push yourself to do over the next 2 weeks?

What A Weekend/Everyone Should Have Friends Like Mine

And I don't mean "What a weekend" in a good way.

I dog and house sat for two very dear friends. One of the dogs has developed some special needs over the past year. She is blind, but gets around okay except right after she wakes up. She also has IBS. I won't go into details here. Suffice it to say that she often needs to get outside RIGHT NOW and doesn't always wake up in time to do so. Even when she does wake up, she might start in the wrong direction and not want to believe me that I know where it is and it's this way and please, please, please hurry.

Friday night's multi-interrupted sleep was nothing compared to Saturday night's getting maybe three hours total and not more than an hour at a time. Each time she moved, I had to be ready to help her get outside. Even when she was asleep, I had to be aware of whining and tummy rumblings so I could wake her up in time. As I said in an email to Jenny, not conducive to sleeping or writing.

I would finally feel like I might maybe be starting to get a flow or words going and have to stop, deal with things and then try to figure out where I was and where I thought I was going. It only takes a few of these to just kill any desire to even try to put one word after the other. After about ten o'clock Sunday morning, I just quit trying.

There was a point late yesterday that I decided that not only was I going to throw in the towel on the contest, but on the whole writing thing. Why was I bothering? Most people seem to be quite content, happy even, going to work and coming home day after day. They might work out and/or go to movies or plays or concerts. But mostly they work and take care of their homes and families, and watch television. Basically what I do already except that I give short shrift to everything except the television watching, because I write or try to write or think I should be writing.

And then it happened.

I heard everyone's voice in my head. I heard Jenny, Ali, Fleur, Mary, Shane, Nicole and all the rest of the Pirates saying, "What the hell are you talking about? You're making excuses. Get over yourself and get back to work." I heard Carrie saying, "If you don't finish something for me to read, I'll shave your head. You won't even see it coming."

How great is that? They don't even have to be around to give me a verbal--mental?--bitch slap.

It's going to be like starting a marathon, getting out front in the first mile, stopping to have a big lunch--maybe a nap--and then deciding that you are going to try to win it after all. But I'm not throwing in the towel. I may finish dead last, but I'll finish. And I'll have more words of TNN than I had when I started. And that was sort of the point all along.