Particularities and Perseverence

I wanna go back to sleep SO bad!

On Friday I wrote that I was seeking something in my life, and I wondered what this meant for my fiction. I didn’t mean that I was going to quit. I meant that I need to branch out and explore other areas of my being-ness. I’ve had one egg (fiction)  in my basket for quite awhile now.

However, that said, today I promised myself I’d start writing on yet another new novel idea. Last fall I started a thriller, took a workshop, and lost interest in the story. Hard-core thrillers aren’t my thing, that’s all. But I wanted to check out that kind of storytelling, and I’m glad I did.

Now, it’s time to start again. I’ve muddled a new idea, and, of course, I’m unsure about it. Over the weekend, I realized — RE-realized I should say — that after awhile I tie myself in knots with too much thinking. I’m better in the doing. The only way to know whether I’m emotionally invested is to write the first 50 pages fast, which is to say, with minimal angst.

Being a detail-oriented person, I find it’s the particularites set down on the page that get me excited. The grand story vision is an untested theory, that’s all. So I’ll see what I see after 50 pages.

I’m sitting up in bed with coffee, laptop, index cards, and novel journal (plus cat) at my side. Please wish me luck: I’m exhausted and anxious. I haven’t been sleeping well because of money stress. That’s why I’m still in bed; sitting at my desk to write would take too much energy. This, my friends, is perseverence in action!

This Is my Big Toe

Well, hi there after so long. I feel like I’m venturing into a cozy room after wandering an outer darkness for awhile. My room is a parlor with striped wallpaper and fringed lamps, and it contains a roaring fire and dozens shabby, genteel wingback chairs. In those wingback chairs lounge virtual blog friends of times past. You, my blog friends, are ghostly as yet — but welcoming — and my chair sits in the middle of everyone, already warmed by the fire.

This is my big toe venturing back into blog-world. It needs a little warming up, so I shall stretch it toward the hearth by way of 2010 photos.

Hey, how are you? Drop a line, let me know.

January: Hanalei Bay, Hawaii! Vitamin D! Lots of mai tais!
February: Early spring
March: Oregon coast for one of my impromptu writers retreats
One-eyed doggy a-okay
Happy Easter

What I Did on My Lunch Hour

Can out Luna begging for a little sandwich
Check out Luna begging for a little sandwich

Today — at noon, no less — I made the break. I wrenched myself away from my deadlines, put on semi-decent clothes plus a groovy necklace (which is really dressing up) and sped away from my home-office. With windows rolled down, I let the spring breeze mess up my already disheveled curls, which reminded me that I’m about two months overdue for a haircut.

But, no matter, because at least my hair was clean for a change, and the sun was out. Luna the Dog stared up at me, expecting and about to receive a desultory walk in the park, in which I chatted with other dogwalkers while she tried to avoid all dog-contact. She’s like that.

Then, off to a cafe with its outdoor seating back in place after a long winter. Happy day! Brie panini (a splurge, admittedly), latte, and laptop. I munched the sandwich as I munged words, achieving my hour’s worth of fiction for the day. Still not the best, still itchy that I can’t spend all day…But a step in the right direction, right?

Truth is, I could have worked another little while on the novel, but I decided to finish up my lunch hour with a little spring-cleaning. My home is a wreck, but now my balcony is habitable.

Alas, I must return to the training manual I’m editing, which means that the dog and the cat get to enjoy the balcony. Ah well, that was a mighty fine three-hour lunch hour!

Luna amidst the new geraniums and daisies
Luna amidst the new geraniums and daisies
Trio on the new "anti-gravity" deck chair
Trio on the new "anti-gravity" deck chair

A Merry Snowed-In Christmas

hollyberriesToday, I woke up in a better mood than I have in weeks. It’s a bouyancy out of nowhere, and I’m once again amazed by human resilience. There’s no reason for my mood, none whatsoever. It’s Christmas Eve and I’m snowed-in. We in my family won’t celebrate the holiday until this weekend — hopefully. I’ve been cooped up for 10 days, hiking to the grocery store, stewing in my juices.

You’d think given all this time, I’d have accomplished much writing. Hah!

Old-time Portlanders are talking about this snowfall as the worst winter in 40 years. All I know is that struggling through the snow, I meet up with fellow hikers who smile wide and offer benedictions like, Beautiful, isn’t it? even as they nearly fall on their bums. Smiles all around, shrugs, slips and slides — it’s a strange but welcome comraderie.

Today it must be 34 or 35 degrees — a step in the right direction — and when I opened the balcony window the lovely hush I’d gotten used to had disappeared, replaced by snap-crackle-popping, a most enlivening sound. Truth is, I’d never before heard the sound of a slow thaw. Ice and snow falling off the evergreens and telephone lines, snow pockmarked and slushy: unique to me.

It’s thawing out there; my heart is thawing out a little too. Time to ready myself for a bright, shiny New Year!

Though, more snow is supposed to be coming for us — one more bout before it lets us go. But I don’t care. Even if I’m snowed-in, it’s still Christmas, and Christmas was always one of the happiest times in my family. We did it BIG. Or rather, my father did it big and brought us along with him. The eight-foot tree with thousands of lights; the beautifully made nativity scene, hand-sculpted and -painted, the kind you don’t see anymore. Chipped as it was, I used to love playing with it as if it were a doll set. The multitudes of presents under the tree — too many really — maybe it was almost disgusting, but as I kid, what did I care?

I may be holed up, but it’s still Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

P.S. A few pet pictures, typical of the last 10 days.

Luna, the dog reminiscent of a cat, snuggling into the warmest spot next to my drying boots (in front of the space heater).

lunaandboots

Trio, the cat reminiscent of a dog, playing in the snow.

trioinsnow

Monday Thoughts

Today, a hodge-podge because I’m distracted by various thoughts, some pertaining to writing and some not. I share my distractions with you, lucky readers.

lunashiner11. Latest with the dog.

Check it out. She gave herself a shiner last Thursday. Running about the apartment in her most fetching and playful manner and — BAM — with a yelp, she clocked her empty eye socket against a chair leg. The swelling hasn’t gone down yet, so I’m worried. I’ve never had a shiner. How long does it take for swelling to retreat?

2. Dennis Lehane, novelist. Good news for us non-outliners.

Caught an online interview with Lehane, and I like what he had to say about his process. To start writing, he has to have a strong macro-sense of the story, which consists, he said, of only a couple of must-include plot points. Other than that, he feels his way through his stories. And his stories are complex, wouldn’t you say? This is kind of amazing. He said he may write a little list, jot a few notes, about what he’d like to happen, and even then, apparently, his end product probably won’t match the list. I like this. I like this alot. And you?

3. Goal-setting (maybe this should have been number one).

I need deadlines, yep. I got to thinking about this because over the weekend a guy I’m crushing on mentioned the term “self-starters” in conjunction with us writers. It’s so true! I’d never thought about it this way, and I stood up a little taller when he said this. I’m a self-starter(!). And, let’s be honest, those of us currently without publishing contracts need to be, don’t we?

The truth is, I used to be a better self-starter. I didn’t need to light a flame under my tookis with self-imposed deadlines. These days, I work better when I make contracts with myself. Sometimes the constant self-vigilance is exhausting, but what else to do? I’m still a self-starter!

4. PUBWEST Conference: On pretending I’m someone I’m not and fantasizing about the future.

presenterOver the weekend I attended the Publishers Association of the West’s annual conference. My goal was to get the inside scoop on Internet marketing and publicity. I managed to absorb some knowledge and meet a couple of interesting potential contacts.

Mainly, though, I found myself relishing my “Presenter” status. This was a great joke. Someone in the back office had attached a “Presenter” ribbon to my name tag. I caught people flicking glances at my chest (not lasciviously) and then smiling at me. Not that this doesn’t occur in general, but I’m telling you, it was a different kind of vibe coming my way. Like I was Someone. Most strange, really, but fun. I like to think it was a dress rehearsal for the real thing!

The name tag makes a great cat toy.

Silly Spaniel or Sporty Spaniel?

Before dog ownership, I knew, just knew, I was a person who:

1. would never own a lap dog, and

2. would never, EVER own a shivery lap dog.

Goes to show. Pulled out Luna’s spiffy new coat this morning because the chill is officially on around here. Silly Spaniel or Sporty Spaniel? I can’t decide.

(Later – it’s official: She’s not Sporty Spaniel. The sight of the coat excited her when I pulled it out for her evening walk. However, once dressed, she jumped onto the couch for more sleep. I hereby change my choices to Silly Spaniel or Stylista Spaniel — or Slacker Spaniel.)

 

The chilly weather compelled a new pet behavior. First time the cat and dog have snoozed in proximity to each other. Cat’s still the alpha, of course, but at least they’re not engaging in space-heater turf wars. (Gotta buy something other than a bath mat for them to lie on though.)

Okay, back to work now…or would that be a cozy bubble bath instead? And, if bubble bath, can I say I worked if I read one of my research books while soaking?