Come enjoy Darla’s quirky email interview with gifted writer Josh Lanyon. The writers at Nightlight would love comments to make him feel welcome!
Thursday Thirteen
It’s time for Thursday Thirteen lists again! Enjoy:
Get Into The Groove
A couple of songs popped up in my Rhapsody play list the last few days, and I noticed a trend. What played was Madonna’s Get Into The Groove, and Earth, Wind & Fire’s Let’s Grove Tonight. It got me thinking about the crazy summer, and my writing – or lack thereof. Summers in Montana are woefully short. It’s not really warm till mid-June and by mid-August often the leaves are beginning to turn. See what I mean? So we like to make the most of the warmth and sunshine while we can.
This is not overly conducive to sitting at my computer, however, when the gorgeous outdoors beckons. And while it is perfectly logical, my distance from those magic words that I string together day by day to make a story still call to me and I get antsy and unsettled because I am not writing. So what’s a poor author to do?
Recently, Rowan Lark, author of A Love Neverending and one of the authors on the new Nightlight blog, published a wonderful idea, and one I am planning to dive into once our family camping trip is done. She proposed the idea of 100 words a day for 100 days. It’s beautiful in it’s simplicity. The key here is consistency and habit. And the daily word count is easily achieved, so that you can be successful. It’s just what I need to get back in the habit and for P.M. to get her groove back. Pure genius.
Blessed Being
One thing the Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron has taught me is that I am very blessed with wonderful parents. Exercises meant to deal with issues like poisonous people in our lives, unhealthy attitudes toward a higher power, and financial issues have all pointed toward their nurturing, positive examples. A phone call Saturday night only reinforced that.
Dad called to see how things are going. Often asking after my writing despite his disinterest in reading fiction stories, he expressed amusement over my various projects, none of the ones mentioned even involving writing, to the point I didn’t give him a chance to talk about himself much. Mom, for her part, could have complained endlessly about a broken rib. She didn’t, not even with a chronic disease adding to the mix. How can I complain after that?
Instead, they inspire me to do things like email a favorite author. If I don’t hear back, I’ll presume he’s busy. Odds are, I will hear back because he’s already proven himself to be courteous and grateful, but my world won’t be shattered if he’s too busy. I have too much knowledge of the many more important things in life.
So, while this is an intensely personal post, it’s also short. I just couldn’t resist sharing. Hopefully, I can hear about some similar joy in your life today. Blessings to you and yours!
Making Time for Unicorns
On Saturday afternoon I allowed myself to be persuaded to go to the Washington County Fair with my girlfriends instead of staying home and cleaning. It doesn’t sound like such a hardship to spend time with my friends, I realize, but after being laptop-free for over a week I had this plan that I would get all the cleaning done on Saturday and then be free to write all day on Sunday and it was hard to give that up.
We used to go to the Fair every year, but it’s been a really long time since I went. And one of my friends hadn’t actually been to this kind of fair before, with cows and crafts along with the rides. It ended up being the perfect mix of resurrecting old memories and making new ones. All of the usual food booths right where they should be, the familiar smells of the barns, the blues band on stage next to the covered picnic tables – if Johnny Limbo and the Lugnuts had been the closing band in the grass amphitheater it could easily have been 1990 instead of 2010.
But this time we actually went on the rides, too, testing our stomachs on the Spider and the Tilt-a-Whirl, and the silver one whose name I don’t remember. And despite her lack of confidence in her own skill, one friend managed to earn 150 points on the last round of Skee Ball so all three of us walked out with a plush toy to remember the day.
It was wonderful. I have no regrets about going.
Of course, I also don’t regret ending my day with my friends after the fair instead of continuing on to happy hour and the movies. They’re very good friends, but for some reason on this particular day I had to repeat several times that I wanted to get some writing done and wasn’t free all day.
For a variety of reasons I didn’t actually get any writing done (although I did get the cleaning and laundry taken care of), and I admit that’s a little frustrating, but what I’m really taking away from the weekend is that it doesn’t have to be and either/or, all-or-nothing kind of thing. If we’re open to it, there is almost always some kind of balance that can be struck, so you can have the little purple unicorn with a silver horn sitting in a place of honor on the bookshelf, and a clean house, and maybe some word count to go with it.
The important thing, I think, is to take a deep breath and listen to your instincts when the calendar tries to get crowded. Don’t be afraid to tell someone you’ll get back to them, rather than giving them an answer on the spot. Give yourself time to think it through. Decide where your priorities are, and make sure that, whatever you do, it works for you.
Flash Fiction Friday
In the mood for a break? Enjoy a short read!
Thursday Thirteen
Join us for random fun!
It’s All In Where You Look
Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
— E.L. Doctorow
It was the fall of my freshman year of high school that I fell in love with E.L. Doctorow. I was fourteen, and that was…too many years ago now to admit to. My English teacher had a few shelves of books she considered ‘should reads’ and loaned them out. As it happens, I”d read most of them already, but then I discovered Ragtime sitting there. The cover back then was a plain, solid color – rust as I recall – with the title in retro script across the top. I took it home. I was still reading in the wee hours that night. Lunch was forgotten the next day, and by the time 6th period rolled around I was, reluctantly, returning it to the shelf. Even now, all these years later, I still feel nostalgic when I think of it.
All that (ancient) history I present simply to explain why I picked the above quote. It’s a bit of synchronicity at play. I am now reading Bird By Bird, by Anne Lamott. I am only a few chapters in, but loving it so far. She mentioned this quote and it really hit home with me.
So often, when the urge to write a book hits us, we face an initial panic at the idea of writing something ‘that long’. How will we ever think of enough to fill two or three hundred pages? How will we ever figure out a whole storyline? The first blank page then looms huge, becoming overwhelming while we try to see all the way to the end, even as we are typing Chapter 1 – the heading, not the actual text.
That’s when these wise words can make all the difference. We need to focus on what we can see, what we are writing right now. What happens in this scene? What makes it important? How will it advance the characters? Is it believable and will it pull the reader in, make them feel as if they are really there? Focusing on what’s in the headlights, the scene before you, will make it happen. And that scene will lead to the next, and the next….and before you know it, you’ve made the whole trip. Enjoy the ride.
Food For The Soul
I’ll admit it. From the moment I saw the previews for the movie Julie & Julia, I wanted to see it. I cut my teeth on Julia Child’s PBS show. My grandfather was a fan and we rarely missed it. Years later, she did some shows with Jacques Pepin, another favorite chef of mine, and I was glued.
I loved the movie. It tells the story of Julie Powell, a blogger who set out to cook her way through Child’s The Art Of French Cooking in one year. She had a lot of ups and downs but eventually made it, blogging all the way about her experiences. They interspersed the modern day story with episodes from Child’s life in France starting in the 1940’s when she began to pursue cooking and attended the prestigious Cordon Bleu school.
It follows her life through the long road of writing the book with her collaborators, but more than this, it told the story of her life with her husband Paul. They led a close and touching life together, and a long one. And while I enjoyed the parts about Powell, I was far more drawn to the story of Julia’s life. She was strong-willed and determined and refused to give up her dream. Eventually she got exactly where she wanted. A great lesson in there for all of us.
I also greatly enjoyed all the food talk in this movie. Yes, I am a foodie. I freely admit it. I should get a t-shirt to warn people so they won’t wonder when I am in a restaurant and admire the sauce or swoon over the way my dinner is arranged on a plate. My husband is just as bad. He has a habit of arranging things on plates and never fails to delight. I asked him once why he never became a chef and he replied that it would then become a job and not as much fun. I, on the other hand, have been a restaurant manager in one of my former lives. I did it all from bartending, to overseeing wait staff, to paperwork, to filling in on the line when we were short a cook. It was a fun, chaotic, and exhausting time but I’m glad I did it. I learned a lot about food and cooking.
I suppose it hails back to my southern upbringing. Cooking was not something we did for utility purposes, it was a labor of love. We cooked in big batches, just in case anyone stopped in. We baked cakes and pies and delivered them to friends and neighbors ‘just because’. When tragedy struck, we were there with food so the family would be spared that job to focus on what was important. We believed that good food fed the soul.
I still do. So, I’ve since pulled out my copy of The Art Of French Cooking. Once my current work in Progress is done, and the rush is over, I’m digging in.
Friday Fiction: Please Welcome Special Guest, David Bridger!
I am excited to share a guest blog post from first-time published author, but long-time writer, David Bridger. I met David on the Romance Divas Forum and was impressed by his sense of humor, ease of writing style, and his friendliness. When his first book got published and he asked for publicity from other Divas, I jumped at the chance.
Here, then, is author, David Bridger, talking about his experiences writing Beauty and the Bastard. Enjoy!
From Soup to Nuts
Beauty and the Bastard is my first published work of long fiction, but it’s far from being the first thing I’ve written.
I was thirteen years old when I decided I would be a writer. In fact, an inspiring English teacher called Mr. Watson told me I already was one, and urged me to work hard in order to turn potential into reality. Three years later I tried to write my first novel. But within a few hundred words I realised my self-conscious style would be no substitute for a lack of substance, so I went away to live a bit of life before trying again.
I went away to sea, actually, and those years of sailing the world proved fertile for my imagination. My second bash at writing a novel came ten years after the first, and that time I finished a Chapter One while sliding up and down mountainous seas in the Arctic Ocean.
It was embarrassingly autobiographical and horribly self-indulgent. I’d lived a bit of life, but my writing skills were no more developed than they had been when I was thirteen, so I filed that chapter under B for Bin and vowed to learn how to write novels when I retired from sea.
Ten years later, I was ready to start. I’d come home injured and was destined to spend several years regaining mobility. Life went from “crazy busy” through “traumatic” to “scarily quiet” very quickly, and alongside my program of physical recovery I dedicated most of my mental energy to learning how to write fiction.
My first completed novel was a paranormal family saga. It was a big story with a big wordcount. I know now that it was another self-indulgent one, and it’s unlikely to ever see the light of day, but it was my apprenticeship and it served me well. It was the platform upon which I checked out various online writing communities.
I joined Forward Motion and Litopia, and also discovered an informal community of writers and readers on LiveJournal. I learned from sharing crits with my pre-published peers, from reading the blogs of multi-published authors, and from taking workshops.
That network of support and encouragement helped me write my second novel, an urban fantasy which I think is good enough to be published. It’s out there on submission now. If it’s picked up, it might become the first book in a series.
As I neared the end of that one, it occurred to me that both my completed novels contained romantic elements. Strong romantic elements. I sat back and took a good look at this aspect of my writing.
I’ve always been a romantic. Many sailors are. Until that moment I’d never thought of myself as a romance writer, though. Maybe that’s what I was. I didn’t know, but it was worth checking out, so last summer I joined Romance Divas.
It was a defining moment in my career. Within a few weeks, I knew I’d not only found a new and wonderful writing home to add to my existing ones, but that I’d also discovered my writing identity. And the workshops there! Wow! They’re pure gold dust!
I found Romance Divas at exactly the right time for me. Things fell into place naturally, and I found focus at the same time as I discovered my most natural voice.
One direct result of all this was Beauty and the Bastard. It was like riding a storm. I fell in love with the two main characters and lived their adventure with them. After years of experimentation with rapid drafting and suchlike, I’d already learned that my best method is to outline lightly then write my best quality draft straight off. When I added to that my newly-discovered voice, I found myself writing with strength and confidence I’d never known before. I immersed myself in it and loved every moment.
I hope my readers will love it too.
PS. I can’t help smiling when I say “my readers”. I don’t believe that will ever get old.
And here’s a little teaser for the novel:
Saul the Bastard is a fallen angel who works as a bounty hunter for powerful urban demon families. Rebecca Drake, a modern day demon princess, is being hunted by dangerous desert demons. When Rebecca’s family hires Saul to protect her, they are both unhappy with the arrangement, but before long sparks fly as they try to resist their strong mutual attraction. For the first time in living memory, Saul has someone to love; someone he is scared of losing; someone the desert demons have marked to be their next sacrifice.
Now available from Liquid Silver Books: Beauty and the Bastard.