Ups and Downs

Everyone always talks about the rhinocerous-like hide you've got to develop in the writing business -- well, any business for that matter. But is that harder when you're a "sensitive artiste" type?

To be a writer is to have access to your emotions. You pull from them moment-by-moment as you write. How does the character feel? When did you feel that way? What did it feel like to feel that way? It's no less than freaking Method Acting in some ways.

But then, once the day's pages are filed away we're supposed to put on the business hat and stow the emotions?

I think it's impossible. We're who we are because we can feel. We do feel. So it's natural to take a bit of a personal hit when facing a setback or challenge careerwise.

The good side of all this? The ups we experience fully. The highs of writing a great scene, of finishing a book, of starting something new. In between traversing the dark insecure valleys, you get to climb the mountains and check out the view.

So how do you develop the thick skin while still being able to access emotions? You can't just say, "I don't care." That's be an outright lie. You do care about writing a good story, getting an agent, your Amazon ranking or whatever. But maybe you can say, "I won't care that much. I won't let it get to me."

I'm working on this. I don't know any serious writer who isn't.

Progress...

Well, had a lovely writing morning yesterday.

Actually did a few copy-edits on my last YA -- edits *ahem* I wish I'd caught before the MS went out in the mail... Ones I'd caught on a susequent rereading.

I'm a huge offender when it comes to typing the wrong word. (Example: Without his medicine, he'll be sick in twenty-four house.) Okay, duh! Mental forehead slap.

I have excellent critique partners who give me notes on corrections, which I do... But then, while correcting, I feel the need to tinker with what's on the page. (Is that revisionistis?) Anyway, voila. New ones.

I totally have to work on this in the future. Dial down enthusiasm, vim & vigor. Chain self to chair for one last reading. :)

In brighter news, I wrote four more pages on my new WIP -- the paranormal sequel. I hope to have a proposal done on this one by the end of May. (If I can keep myself from pushing ahead and finishing the whole damn book.) There's another project I'm itching to write, but I'm keeping it on the down-low for a while. It's so cooool it's kewl. Okay, should delete that, but I won't. I'm in the mood for confessions, obviously.

One last thing -- my little sister emailed me from Venice this morning. Apparently, she and her young Ben Kingsley-esque boyfriend had been to Rome yesterday and were blessed by the Pope. Niiiiiiiiice. You can get more blessing-y than that. Apparently the gondoliers are on strike in Venice... Does that mean you row your own? Haha.

Okay, off now. Leaving you shaking your head, I know. Stop reading blogs and go write, people!

And the Winner is...

I'm going with the hot paranormal chickee picture for my official Golden Heart stuff. Emailed it to National RWA office today. Thanks for the comments, you guys!

In other news... DYING to write! Have been utterly exhausted this week teaching 30 supposedly humanoid 6 year-olds. More like battling with small aliens who constantly need to use the bathroom and have urgent need to tell you about their pets. Cute yet strange creatures, they make odd, random noises, have obsessions with pebbles in their shoe treads, and tell jokes with no punchlines....

Yeah.

Patience is drained. Brain running on back-up power. Need hourly injections of lattes and Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi (the best drink in the Uni). And time to WRITE!

I did work on character arcs for my four main players in the sequel I'm outlining. That was some progress at least. But, to make my goal for the month, I need to have first chapter written -- and basic plot flow outlined. It's gonna be a nail-biter, especially with hubby's fishing business crazy-busy and our dishwasher on the fritz. I need a maid for my anniversary, unless one of the dogs can don rubber gloves and start scrubbing.

Oh, reading a wonderful RDI book right now -- BOMBSHELL by Lynda Curnyn. (I think I'm spelling it close at least!) Lovely rich plot and complex beating-heart characters. I can't wait to finish up tonight, though then I'll miss my new found friends. I love/hate when that happens to me from a book!

Okay. Enough. You get it. I'm busy. :)

Have a great week!

Which to choose?

Did I mention I totally hate getting my picture taken? I'm the girl who always closes her eyes when the flash goes off, has something green in her teeth, or is having a perma-bad-hair-day.

Of course, now I have to send in my official Golden Heart photo to RWA. This is the one that goes in all the promo stuff and is projected ginormously on the screen during the awards ceremony.

So here are the choices:

Sweet little YA writer...

Or the more "paranormal" YA writer picture.


Which do you like?

Spring Cleaning

Whew! I tackled the dreaded desk yesterday with excellent results. I now have a beautiful, if not intimidatingly clean, desk.

There were oodles of old story pieces that needed to be filed. In between dusting and sorting, it was fun to read ideas I'd concocted back in 2001 -- a girl PI novel (included murder scene outside of a natural foods co-op, hah!) and bits of a Hollywood news anchor revenge story. I'm never short of ideas, that's for sure.

Also, I came across the last draft of one of my GH finalling entries -- Do You Really Want to Haunt Me? I was sort of down on that book by the time I finished writing and revising it. By then, Jennifer Love Hewitt had just come on with her Ghost Whisperer series and then the movie Just Like Heaven came out. I thought I was not far enough ahead on the curve of girls/boy talking to spirits and/or dead folks.

But the voice is good in that story and the premise has a bit of a twist, including a family gift/curse. And you know what? I enjoyed rereading it.

Maybe enough time had passed that I could see it from a different angle. Whatever it was, I felt like the novel wasn't the troubled child I'd thought it to be.

Lately, I've been feeling that its making it into the Golden Heart finals was some kind of fluke, but maybe I've been wrong. And at the risk of sounding pompous or whatever, I think it's okay to like your work. It's okay to let other people like your work, too.

So, I'm going to accept its GH final with a simple thanks and not stress about the how and why. It's good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, five people (plus me) really like it!

And now do you see why it took me all day to clean my workspace? Too much to read. :)

Desks Deserve Better

It's unofficially D. D. B. day. Time to clean my desk! I would post a picture, but I'm sure you'd be shocked...

Currently on desk:

Various paper-copy chunks of last book
RWA chapter's goal bowl
Flowers from husband (in elegant Mason jar)
Crystal bowl with sparkles & clear rocks in it (My substitute water feature a la Feng Shui)
Laptop affectionately named Frankenstein
External mouse and keyboard (Yes, I have laptop issues...)
Reference books (Thesaurus, dictionary, grammar/style book, many others)
Pictures to be filed, Disks to be labeled, Letters to be filed
Assorted dust bunnies
Nearly empty can of air duster
Change (How did that get there?)
Hershey's kiss wrappers
A few never-seem-to-be-sharpened pencils that I always try to use
ACK! You get the idea..

So, about the "water feature"...
It's in the corner of my desk associated with career and it's supposed to attract success and money. I'm not sure if the fact that it's sort of fake makes a difference.. but things are looking up lately.

Do you believe in Feng Shui? What other principles have you used in organizing your desk?

And now, off to clean. Ick.

How Did I Get Here?

How did you become a writer? What influenced you? Those questions have been popping up on various blogs this last week.

What came to my mind was the dusty second floor library where I spent many long mornings waiting for the first bell.

See, every day I rode with my dad on his way to teach at the local high school, then I walked the six blocks to my own middle school. There, in the cool, large-windowed library, I'd devour Agatha Christie books, sample classics, and check out new releases. It's funny -- looking back at all the hours I spent there, I couldn't tell you the name of the librarian, or what she/he looked like! When I entered through the glass doors of that room, it was only me and the books.

Earlier, in elementary, I'd made my way through great stories like Bridge to Terebithia, From the Mixed-Up Files of Basil E. Frankweiler, Black Beauty and everything by Judy Blume. I loved those books. In fact, a friend named Vanessa and I had contests about which books we'd read, how many pages, and that kind of thing. My favorite teacher had reading rewards that involved lunch with her at McD's! I always won. Sometimes, her white-haired husband, an ex-navy officer, would meet us there to eat. It was so amazing, seeing that my teacher had a life outside of school. When I graduated sixth grade, she gave me a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull the ultimate seventies encouragment book. I loved her.

So all of that, those memories, those books, and of course, my English teacher father led me to the writing life, by way of the film life. I'd actually been accepted to a masters in Film program in California and was all set to move, but then I met my dashing Alpha-male hero. My course took a sharp turn, but I ended up back in storytelling where I belong.

It's not so different in a way. When you write a novel you are the director, producer, and editor. (At least at first) It's a group effort later.

But the beginning... the drafting ....

The solitary hours at the writing desk are like those silent hours in my childhood library -- filled with just me and the story.

Yum.