Two Unexpected Hours

Monday night was our regularly scheduled Pirates' Night. We gather, eat pizza, drink whatever and talk. About books read and movies watched and life lived, but mostly about writing. It's informal. No critiques, although pages are swapped once in a while. A night I look forward to all month.

I arrived at 5:30, ordered my slice of pizza, found a seat and pulled out my manuscript to mark up. I ate the slice while I continued to mark up pages. I wrote missing scenes. Every so often I glanced at the door. Ali had said she'd be + 1, but late. Fleur couldn't make it. But no one else showed up either.

About 7:10, I texted Ali. She was about 15 minutes away. Then I ordered a decaf latte. And I marked up more.

At 7:30 Ali + 1 arrived. I put my marked up pages away, and the usual talking commenced. No one else made it. Life managed to interfere with more than one Pirate this month. Emails had been sent after I'd left work for the day. But the talk was interesting, and the next two hours flew by.

It wasn't until the next morning that I pulled out those marked up pages to see how many there were. Surely I'd made my 30 page goal for the day. Goal + 67! 97 pages in two hours. Two hours I didn't expect to have. Two hours that prove how much can be accomplished if the butt is planted in a chair and a pen is kept in the hand.

And I'd managed to get past the worm hole without being sucked in. You know the point. The place where I'd decide I needed to go back to the beginning and start over. But I just scribbled right past it. I'm now in "new" territory.

This means I'll have revisions done well before the CWC meeting this month. I may even get a second pass (quick though it will have to be) to do more clean up. All because of two hours.

I'm keeping a look out for two more.

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.

Impressive

Last night was our CWC meeting. Fleur was "up the creek" for a full YA novel. Even though we all enjoyed it and LOVED the protagonist, there were suggestions all the way around. As there always are. That's what the group was created for--to make us all better.

What impressed me was not just how well the story already worked or the amazing ideas that flew around the table on how to make it even better. The really impressive thing was Fleur's reaction to all this input. "This is great!" she said with a huge smile. Either she needs to try out for Theatreworks or she really meant it. I think she was genuinely thrilled to have the opportunity to revise using (or not) the ideas we gave her.

And that's a good writer, my friends. I'm trying to get there. I realize that rewrites are necessary. I'm getting better at them. And at taking criticism. But I can't say that I ever feel so freakin' joyful after a critique session. Especially right after. Maybe a few days later when things start to sink in and balance out a little it doesn't sting quite so much. And that doesn't mean I want the others to take it any easier on me during critiques. That won't help me.

Hanging out with other writers is always a learning experience. I learn from their work, from their critiques of my work and of other people's (published and aspiring). And I realized last night that I have learned and am still learning from their reactions to feedback.

This IS great!

Respectfully Disagree

I've been pondering this post for a while now. Partly because I've been busy at work--a good thing in these times. Partly because I've also been busy with rewrites on MMG--an extremely good thing. And partly because I wasn't sure how to put it without maybe stepping on toes.

But I think have the time and a way of doing it.

Jenny posted about King's interview where he says that JK Rowling = good writing while Stephanie Meyer = bad writing. She questions who gets to make those decisions. Then Fleur posted about talking with her students about the same thing. Her final conclusion for them was that if they like it, it's good.

I have to disagree with that. There is a reason that in a previous time--not that long ago, really--critics were a rarefied breed. There just weren't that many around for books, art, music or movies. Why was that? Burly, hairy men standing guard at the gates to keep out the riff-raff? Well, in a way. The bodyguards however were education. A specific kind of education. These critics knew about movies or books or music or art or whatever else they were critiquing. It took time to learn about each art form and what the structures and standards were. And, also, to learn what was new and cutting edge. What broke the rules in an interesting and deliberate way and what just didn't have a clue.

Now anyone with a blog and the inclination can post a review of anything they want. See previous posts for examples from this author. Doesn't matter if you don't know a comma from a coma or a landscape from a landing strip. You have an opinion? It's call a critique.

Now, I can say whether or not I like something. And I have every right to that opinion and to post it wherever I want as long as it doesn't stray into libel. But liking something and knowing if it's "good" or not are too different things.

Case in point: I may love Big Macs. (I'm so-so on them, but do get the occasional craving). Does that mean they are an example of good cooking? Absolutely not. They fill one up. Can be tasty with enough tartar--I mean special sauce to cover up the cardboardy beef and wilted shreds of iceberg lettuce. But no one needs to study for years to figure out how to put one together.

There are movies that are not acted, written or filmed particularly well (The Cutting Edge comes to mind) that I watch every time they're on television. I can chew through some pretty horribly written mysteries when I've read too many heavier, and much better written, books in a row and just need to chill out for a bit. So there are examples of things I like that I know aren't particularly good.

Then take Dante's Inferno. As stated previously, I struggled with it. Called it 17th Century Burn Book. But I recognize why it's lasted all these centuries. Well, partly because of the religious aspect, BUT the structure, the artistry, the attention to detail are all amazing. I get it. I just didn't like it. My not liking it doesn't make it any less than what it is.

I think a better way to put it is: "If you like it, that's okay. It's sometimes enough just to like it. That doesn't necessarily mean it's well-executed. And just because you didn't enjoy something, doesn't necessarily make it bad. You may just need to learn a bit more so you understand why it's considered great. May not make you like it any better, but it just might."

We Got Fleur!

Just a quick one to say that Fleur is now blogging. Check her out at:

http://yasleuth.blogspot.com/

heh

Go, Fleur, Go!

Fleur has an agent! How cool is that? She is, as you would expect, happy and excited but also being much more realistic than I think I would be under the same circumstances. She understands that this is just the next step in the process. That there are several more steps before publication happens.

But it is something to celebrate.

And to use as inspiration. Because she worked at it. She's worked at her craft and at putting her work out there. As a rejection came in, she noted it and then sent out another query. She didn't let the word 'no' stop her.

So I'm sure she'll do just fine with all the other steps along the way.

Good on ya, Fleur!

Pirates and Palette Cleansers

Not two things one would normally put together, but that's what happened Monday evening. At the Pirate gathering, we talked about the books we were currently reading or had just finished. Since I had just made it through Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell--a good book, but loooong--I said I was looking for something short and light as a palette cleanser. "What would that be?" Jenny asked. Good question. For me it depends what I've been either reading a lot of or having trouble getting through. Usual cleansers are:

--Margaret Atwood
--Neil Gaiman
--A good funny book
--Short stories
--A good mystery (Sometimes easier said than done. Just ask D.B.)
--Children's/YA since I'm always looking for books to recommend to the nieces and nephews
--Maybe non-fiction

I don't usually go for things like chick lit or romance, the usual easy reading fare. Predictable and poorly written just don't relax me. And before I get a ton of nasty comments, I know there are good reads in both genres, but I haven't found many lately. Could be I'm looking in the wrong places, but there are a lot of things I'm pretty sure I'll like already on the nightstand, and on the bookshelves and stacked in the corner so searching is a low priority for me right now.

Any particular genre or writer you turn to when you've been reading things that are too heavy or not your cup of tea?

Just Thinking

I haven't really been racking up the word count over the past month and a half. But does that mean I haven't been writing? I don't think it does.

Had a lovely lunch with Fleur and Moe yesterday. We talked about lots of stuff but mostly about writing. That's just what Pirates seem to do when they get together. Moe said something about how non-writers don't get that writing isn't just the physical act--that there's a lot of writing that goes on when we're nowhere near a notebook or computer. I saw an interview with Tim Robbins once, and he talked about how his kids would tease him when they'd go into his office and see him staring out the window. "You said you were working." "I am."

That's the kind of writing I've been doing. Making notes, both mental and actual, about characters and situations and plots and settings. I've been doing this for Vesta and for MMG. Things are falling into place. You can almost hear the clicking some days. And it feels like playing in this mode. Anything can happen. It's not written down yet, you see, so it's still maleable. The clay hasn't been fired. I even had a flash for TNN yesterday morning: Southern Gothic, but with humor. Groovy.

The hard part is to realize that we are still being creative. That we are "writing." Because we don't have something to show to others. I've been beating myself up over being blocked. But I'm not. All kinds of good things are happening. Can't wait to see where all this leads when I do start committing it to "paper."

New/Updated Websites

Bret has finally set up a website. Now if we can just get him to blog. In his spare time. Right. In the meantime, please see the link under "Friends of Debbie" to check it out. A bit on the formal side, but he'll loosen up.

And Fleur's website has a new look. Very cool.

Anyone else ready to set up a whole website, or are you happy with "just" blogging? I don't know that I have any reason for a full site yet. Maybe once I seriously start the agent search. Or maybe after I get an agent and we're doing the publisher search. Or just before the book is ready to come out and I need a place for potential readers to find me.

Or not.

The Group Strikes Again!

Last night was the official First Monday gathering of The Group. It occurs to me this morning that it may have been our one year anniversary. I'll have to look up whether we met for the first time in June or July of last year.

I arrived a little early to go over new novel ideas. I'd narrowed it down to four and was seeing if I could write a quick sketch outlining the main storyline for each one. If not, then the idea isn't ripe enough to pick. Jenny and Shane arrived while I was pondering and asked what I was doing.

"Looking at story ideas to see which one I'm using for my next project."

Jenny, "Let's hear 'em."

I read one. They nodded politely, asked a couple questions. Mary arrived and the conversation changed. A writer's nightmare happened to her a few weeks ago--complete computer meltdown. Latest revisions, gone.

Fleur and D.B. showed up and the discussion shifted again. Just when I thought it was safe, Jenny said, "So what are your other ideas?" After a brief explanation to bring Mary, D.B. and Fleur up to speed, I read my other three ideas. One in particular sparked everyone's interest. Then Jenny said, "You should put that together with the first one." Brilliance!

The fitting of the two, seemly unrelated, ideas is just what I needed to get excited about starting a new project. And I have to admit, I don't think I would have put them together on my own. Yet, there it was, just waiting for someone to discover the fit.

I love and respect each and every person in this group. We are not a critique group per se, although we do read and comment on each other's work. It's more like a support group--one that encourages a bad habit. Some months we have more people show up than others. Bret and Fran attend sporadically. Nicole is usually a regular, but had to be out of town. Ali shows up as often as she can. Everyone has a unique take on this crazy business of writing and we represent a broad range of genres.

It just works. And I'm so glad it does.

Pondering

Fleur made a great observation this morning. She said that just sitting and pondering is good for the soul.

Amen.

I think that as a society we tend to downplay the benefits of sitting around thinking. We have to go go go, do do do. Even our kids are scheduled every minute of every day.

As writers, we often fall into this same trap. "I must write X words a day." Not that it can't be helpful to have a goal. Sometimes we do need to just get the words out. But where do they come from?

So, my goal for June is to allow myself some pondering time every day. Maybe instead of running errands every lunch hour, I'll go over to the park and sit.

Thanks, Fleur.