Writing Bliss

Posted on March 1, 2009 by lalber

: Just a pretty view, but what’s that?

Today felt fan-tabulous. I fiiinally started the story that I’ve been thinking about for eons. This story began its budding life with a title I liked…and then last fall a memorial bench in my neighborhood park sparked my interest.

A few weeks after noticing the memorial plaque beside the bench, I took these photos, which solidified my story idea. It’s been bugging me ever since. The piece felt difficult, however, because I wanted to challenge myself to create a story in which nothing much happens. (Sounds weird, but read on.)

A few days ago, I decided I’d best set myself a goal and get the darned thing written. The steam of it was about blow out my ears. Onto the page already!

What's that woman doing at the memorial bench?

I played my usual mind tricks: index cards, daydreams with notebook open at my side (and a few zzz’s thrown in for good measure), jotted notes in a blank Word file.

Then today: Ten pages, baby! There’s something too delicious about fresh words on fresh pages.

Closing in...Oh my, she's cleaning the memorial...

Don’t get me wrong, I love revising, but revision is quite the analytical process for me. Pure creativity like today’s is bliss.

Bliss!

The story consists of three scenes: at home, to the florist, to the memorial bench. I wrote two of them today. It never ceases to amaze me that a whole world can exist within a basic, maybe even boring, framework.

I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I love backstory. And my quiet, grieving protagonist isn’t all that she seems. So even though nothing happens, in reality everything’s happening. I love that!

Tomorrow I’ll finish the first draft. I’ll send it to my writing group. On Tuesday, they’ll probably ream me a new one.

But hey, it’s getting this long-awaited first draft into Times New Roman, 12 point, that counts!

Thinking About Self-Publishing

Posted on February 26, 2009 by lalber

She used Llumina Press to produce the novel.

I haven’t mentioned Mr. M in a long while. He’s a writing buddy, and he recently told me that he’s decided to consider self-publishing. I’m almost hoping he will go that route so I can see what it’s like from one-step removed. Mr. M, the guinea pig!

Anyone could get sick of slogging through the muddy land of traditional publishing, right? I haven’t given up, but today, I decided to ponder self-publishing along with Mr. M. We went to a meeting of the Northwest Association of Book Publishers to listen to a novelist, Linda Kuhlmann, talk about marketing for self-published authors.

And you know what? I don’t think I could hack it! Kuhlmann’s always carting around promo copies and every trip, no matter how small, how casual, is an opportunity to check-in with local bookstores, visit area libraries, and scout out possible events. She’s got spreadsheets (there’s that word again!) and “Autographed copy” labels that she made herself. (Actually, I was impressed: Avery labels come in shiny gold–who knew?)

She’s so on top of self-marketing that she’s practically a professional speaker now.

I’m serious, I don’t know if I could hack that. I know we novelists have to self-promote–I get that–but I dream of having a support system behind me even if it’s one harried publicist with minimal time to deal with my book because she has the likes of John Grisham and Danielle Steel to oversee.

And who do I think I’m kidding anyhow? During the networking portion of the meeting (immediately I’m thinking: yee gads), a freelance editor asked me what I write. Novels, I replied. She cocked her head, eyebrows raised. Getting nothing out of me, she jutted her head forward a little, opened her eyes wider. Such expectation.

But I choked. Given the chance to excite someone about my novel, I inevitably clam up. Uh uh uh. I know the novel backwards and forwards but rally around it in a couple of sentences, off the cuff? Hah!

That was an ARGH of a moment, truly. Because despite what I tell myself, in the reality of self-promotion, anytime and anywhere is the perfect time and place to talk about my opus. That’s what it’s all about.

I was exhausted by the end of the meeting, but I left with three conclusions:

1. There are plenty of resources out there for self-publishing novelists. I was impressed with the group at the meeting. I might have even met my future website designer!

2. I need to join Toastmasters (again, yee gads) because today’s novelist is doomed to have to speak in public. Unless you’re Cormac McCarthy, of course.

3. I need to come up with two, just two, novel summary sentences and practice them in front of the mirror until they roll out naturally. I mean come on, how hard could that be?

Suicide Girl Is Here

Posted on February 24, 2009 by lalber

I’m sitting in my best neighborhood coffeehouse, it’s 3:00 p.m., and I’m writing in Word because this place has no WiFi. (I’ll post this later.)

Right now I’m thinking, Is that blond boy with the modified mohawk and Keen bicycle messenger bag Colin?

I feel urgent, wanting to write this post. I don’t know why. For the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking about the girl the blond boy has just joined. I wish I’d brought my camera. I want a picture. I don’t know why. I’m worried about her, this beautiful girl with the nose ring, black eyeliner, and skinny purple jeans. The only reason I’m here is because I hoped she’d be here.

Something’s unfolding with her in a big way. But this is probably just me creating a story. I realize this about myself. I understand the difference between fiction and reality. Most of the time anyhow.

Today she’s smiling and engaged in her conversation with Blond Boy, who may or may not be Colin, but who is definitely not her usual after-school companion. So which one of the two boys is Colin?

I truly want to know if this Colin is going to break her heart. Or, if Colin is going to help her to not commit suicide. I suspect she’s suicidal. But then, again, I can’t know—maybe she’s only a drama queen.

I first noticed this girl, who is a writer and a reader, a few weeks ago with her usual companion, the boy with the white plastic belt and falling-off jeans. In my day (yikes, am I that old?), their topic of conversation was a taboo subject. But these two spoke about it as if about whether or not they’d smoked cigarettes that day. I was seated next to them. I admit that I was caught off guard, shocked you might say.

She said, Congratulate me, I didn’t try to kill myself today.

He said, Congratulations, jeez, I’m really proud of you.

Something, something, something that I don’t remember, and then he responded, But if you want to keep the pills down wrap them up in gum…

I know, right? The conversation was so nonchalant—scarily so—and maybe I would have set it aside as the latest in teenage-angst talk except that a week later the girl, who has porcelain skin and eyes the color of spring, sat at this community table writing a “Dear Colin” letter. Bruises ran up and down her arms, and an industrial-sized bandage wrapped her left wrist. A novel sat beside her: The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides.

Oh, here comes her usual companion but with a yellow plastic belt and a female buddy in tow. I peg the group as creative/hipster outsiders like Molly Ringwold in “Pretty in Pink.” I’m glad to see the girl clowning with her friends even though she’s none of my business.

Actually, I do know the “why” about all of this. I suspect that my prurience has everything to do with my desire—my anxiety, my internal steam build-up—to discover the idea for my next novel.

Negotiating With Self

Posted on February 18, 2009 by lalber

coffeehouse1 Today’s signs of spring: Dog panting on our walk and me only wearing a hoodie over a long-sleeved cotton shirt.

I’m sitting in a local coffeehouse, feeling low-grade anxiety. This low-grade anxiety tells me I ought to be working on today’s day-job task. This low-grade anxiety tells me that straight-A students don’t delay the paying work for a few hours. This low-grade anxiety tells me that someone (but who?) will get mad at me if I don’t turn around today’s day-job task one minute from now.

But here’s the first thing: The immediacy of day-job tasks will always trump fiction if I let them.

Here’s the second thing: Which means that if I’m not careful I’ll accomplish less fiction than usual.

Plus this: Unfortunately, my creativity turns off at night because by then I’m brain-tired.

However: Since I always make my deadlines and the day-job task isn’t creative, I’ll get it done this evening for sure.

So: Here I sit in a coffeehouse about to complete a few hours worth of fiction. Take that, low-grade anxiety. Pipe down, you.

How’s that for negotiating with myself?

Sacrilege! And Asides

Posted on February 15, 2009 by lalber

On Facebook, a friend asked me if I was prepared to degrade myself this much for a writing career. I was expecting a lame, exploitative novel at the other end of the link he posted, but…wow. Not that.

All I could think was, What the hell? What’s going on in the world of publishing? Has to be a hoax, I thought. Hardly. You can find this joke of a novel on Amazon.com.

I’m not a Jane Austen purist, but this is going too far, waaay too far…

Our dear Elizabeth Bennett trading witticisms with zombies? Sacrilege!

Isn’t that nuts? And, no, I’m not willing to degrade myself that far.

On an aside, yesterday I had a wacky economic-downturn moment. Driving from here to there to there on a ridiculously complicated quest for black printer ink, I saw four going-out-of-business liquidation sales–and the hundreds of people taking advantage of those sales. It was absurd, all those people feverishly spending money they probably didn’t have just because Circuit City and Levitz Furniture (amongst others) have succumbed.

On the other hand, millions of people across the U.S. buying up inventories at rock-bottom prices…Isn’t that what Bush kept wanting? Citizens spending money?

On a related aside: Read an amusing article in the New York Times about how the bad economy makes for a great excuse. And I’ll quote:

A number of novelists said they have used the prefabricated recession alibi without guilt pangs. Perhaps that’s because they make up stories for a living. (Hehe, too true.)

…Clea Simon, a mystery writer in Cambridge, Mass., said she skipped a conference where she was supposed to speak, using the economy as an excuse to mask her real reason: shyness.

…With the downturn, she said, “I had the perfect excuse to stay home.” (I’ve been using it as an excuse too, actually.)

OMG, Is That a Spreadsheet?

Posted on February 12, 2009 by lalber

Wasn’t I just talking about becoming more organized and that my revision outline was a good start?

Not easy to decipher. Took a picture of my monitor.

After Monday’s post, I began revising per said outline. Unfortunately, yesterday I experienced a mini-mental blowout when I arrived at this question: Move Chapter 14 back so that right before Chapter 17?

Because I’m not organized enough to have a chapter-by-chapter spreadsheet–the global view, you might say–I began flipping through the hard copy, ever more distracted by the marginalia (Wait, did I fix that comment? Really?) not to mention befuddled.

Lo, after an hour of this, a revelation came upon me like a bossy pointing finger and voice descending from the clouds. Thou shalt use an Excel spreadsheet. Thou shalt list each chapter in organized fashion.

Oh man.

But. Remember I mentioned that I received a spreadsheet from my day-job boss? Hmm…And I may or may not have mentioned novelist DeAnna Cameron’s discussion about spreadsheets just last month. (I left a comment or two on her blog because I was fascinated by her organizational prowess.) Hmm…

So, using the spiffy spreadsheet on hand and stealing DeAnna’s column headers, I came up with what you see here. Cool—and colorful too! It’s my miracle for the week. And, guess what? Laid out tidy like that, it’s too obvious that, of course, Chapter 14 must be moved back two chapters. Duh.

I like spreadsheets. Spreadsheets are good.

Foul-Weather Mood

Posted on February 10, 2009 by lalber

slushy What a change from yesterday’s green-day bouyancy. The weather mimics my current mood: slushy and gray.

I only had one day-job task today, and it should have taken 30 minutes. Instead, one hiccup led to another, and then it was noon. By then, the weather had turned most foul, and I found myself pacing my apartment in restlessly annoyed agitation. I’ll admit it: Today the day-job interfered with my fiction.

Now I want to throw in the damp, smelly towel (the one I used to dry off the dog after our walk) on the day. This is the struggle with fiction: getting it done despite our foul-weather moods. Am I right, or am I right?

I had a goal: work through a significant portion of my revision notes. I was going to go to th—okay, wait, the electricity just flickered off, the monitor went black but came back, thankfully. I’d best hurry because there might be more of that. But this is my mood! I’m flickering off for the day. I want to head back to bed.

As I was saying, I had a revision plan that included a coffee house, but now I’m not into people. I need a compromise that gives in a little to my slushy mood but not all the way in. Sometimes, the only way I progress is by negotiating with myself. Do you do this?

pets I’ve experienced many a fiction-curtailed funk. Who hasn’t? I’m trying to remember what I’ve done in the past to settle myself down into that special state of mind that my stories like from me, that brain-space that’s fluid and steady and calm, exactly where I’m not at the moment.

In the past, I’ve told myself to write one page. Just one, then I can quit. Often, of course, this leads to more. Today, I hereby coax myself to remedy five bullets-worth of revision notes, the easiest ones. Five easy fixes, that’s all.

And, to further lull me into getting the work done, I shall do this in my unmade bed. What’s the point of a laptop if not getting cozy with it in an emergency situation? The cat and dog are snuggled in and snoozing away at this very moment. So, I’ll join them with laptop and revision notes in hand.

Green Day (Not Envy, Not the Band)

Posted on February 9, 2009 by lalber

Sign of spring...

Walking the dog in the park today, I spied my first sign of spring. I was so thrilled I later printed out my revision notes in green ink.

I might be more organized than I used to be…huh, wow. I can’t believe I just wrote that about myself. Me, organized. Look at those notes, those bulleted points—and the sub-bullets!

I’m proud of myself. Really, I am. I’m the person who piles her “to file” papers on top of her file cabinet. Also count me in with the folks who run around looking for their keys at least twice a week. And then, there was the time (last month, eh-hem) I discovered a bunch of my clothes in my mom’s laundry room. They’d been hanging there since December. (Yes, sometimes I do a load or two at the parental unit’s house.)

revisionnotes While working, I tend to jot revision ideas on Post-its or in my novel journal. I also insert them at the beginning and the end of the manuscript, or even at the top of new chapters. Of course, there’s also the questions-to-self scribbled on the hard copy. Gathering the comments in one place was my writing task for the weekend. I think this counts as getting my writing in, don’t you?

Coincidentally (or maybe not, maybe a sign instead?), today my day-job project lead sent me a spreadsheet (!!) that I’m supposed to use to keep track of revision feedback. Who knows, get used to the spreadsheet and maybe one day I’ll blog about using one for my fiction!

Many Brains

Posted on February 4, 2009 by lalber

papaccinos1 Two weeks since my last post, and, frankly, I’m surprised. Did I dive under the covers in a final rebellion against winter gloominess? Almost.

The other day I realized that I wasn’t thinking about much of anything. My blogging brain went on hiatus. Earning-money brain took over for awhile. I’m sure it’s the adjustment. Up until now, I’ve been on the writing grant: all creativity, all the time, with plenty of cerebral space for blogging brain and fiction brain.

I hope earning-money brain pipes down so that blogging brain will regain space. The only reason I’m blogging today is because I scheduled it in. Scheduled it in. Oy. And I had to leave the house to get it done. (Not that I mind sitting in cafes.)

In truth, this not-thinking-about-much-of-anything business feels good, as if I’ve been vacationing far, far away from my bad-ass, overthinking self. I’m relaxed, rejuvenated, ready for the thoughts to start again.

Too Classic: Old-School Pacific Northwest

And, guess what? I’ve only got two chapters left for this round of revisions! Something to say for myself, after all. I had that epiphany last month, which has led to further revelations. So, another round coming up. It’s all good.

Just now, the women in the photo said, “I’ve always wondered who reads blogs.” She said this like, What’s the point? I used to wonder the same thing. All I can say in this moment, sipping a nonfat latte, listening to The Black Keys (a bluesy duo; good stuff) background music, sitting in a wing-back chair, that I’m enjoying myself.

Just a January Thing

Posted on January 23, 2009 by lalber

bakerspice3 Honestly, I have no idea what happened. I started off the week on a positive, focused note, only to have all that energy slither into a January hole. This is nothing new; every year it’s the same thing. Sometimes I wish we had it like the Aussies with the New Year occuring in high summer. That way I’d already be energetic, all the better to proceed with fresh goals and perspectives.

I managed some revision work, but only because I forced myself out of the house and into a cafe without WiFi (key!). Even then, I found myself staring at people, out the window, into my vegan soup. I jotted revision notes on Post-Its — that is, ideas for the next revision cycle — and this wore me out.

I managed to put away two baskets of laundry that have been sitting around since December. And I found a spot to store a Christmas present that I’ll never use; it had been gathering dust next to the couch. And I finally bought lightbulbs for both bathroom vanities, which take four each, and which were down to only one working bulb each.

bakerspice21 I spent a whole day figuring out how to access a thing called the “source depot,” which is where I’ll get and retrieve work materials for my day-job projects. It’s a telecommuting thing. Who knew I’d have to download a new program, update my computer with Microsoft Updates, get credentialed, set up a extranet portal account and enable it, install a depot client, create a PPTP connection, and, figure out the correct port name to connect to the correct database.

Did you understand any of that? I didn’t.

Many potential blog posts popped into my head, found little nourishment, and slithered away again.

Believe it or not, I don’t consider myself a moody person. It’s just January.