It's been in the works for a while now, but Chocolate For Your Brain! is moving to Patheos.
I'll let you know when exactly, but all of these posts will migrate there once it's up and running. Back in September, I'd been considered. Now, after a few months of trying to figure out what to do, or how to do it, the hour approaches.
Why am I doing this?
Well, first, to get myself back in the writing spirit, where five hundred words doesn't feel like a push. Second, to become part of a community of writers again, which would in turn spark my own brain to jog around the park. Covid-19 makes everything laggy and saggy, including humor and a joyful witness...so I'm packing up and joining Patheos --a faith based website with multiple channels including one labeled, Catholic. I think I qualify.
What's been going on lately?
Well, I've been teaching, I've been fretting about all my family in Texas, and it's very icy here and the snow blower decided it was too much work to clear our driveway so it quit on the maiden voyage, leaving all of us with our backs to take care of the rest.
What really gets me is all that work doesn't amount to much of a calorie burn, only a sore back.
In the meantime, I'm doing Lent...it's awkward like most Lents, where the recognition, you've already messed up tends to tempt one to not simply start over again. But I'm trying...and I'm going to go on trying.
What else are you doing? I'm supposed to be editing. I've found I can get the bills paid, organize lesson plans, fold clothes and do dishes and will, before I start tackling that stack...but I need to...so I paid a visit to Barnes and Noble today, to remind myself of the goal. When I see all the stacks of books, it's a reminder of all those who managed to see it through to the end. It makes me wonder how many others have a stack like mine.
It also makes me want to either a) declare a it's my week, hole up in the computer room and tell everyone to bring me food and remind me to shower until it's done or b) cry and panic and put it off some more or c) beg everyone to remind me to edit every day until it's done. I know, it should be c).
I just stress ate the last of my emergency chocolate thinking about editing. Now I really don't have any excuses.
I'm thinking of exercising...that really tells you how much I don't want to edit.
However I know, the only way it gets better is if I look at it. It's like a swimsuit I don't want to put on, because I know how it's going to look.
Moving day is coming. In the meantime, I'll be over here, editing and trying not to cry at the reality, I should have hit the gym a long time ago, both literally and figuratively with this manuscript.
Showing posts with label editing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label editing. Show all posts
Saturday, February 20, 2021
Moving Day is Coming
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Work in Progress Blog Tour
Hello. I'm posting here as part of a Work in Progress Blog tour of writers. A. M. Justice tagged me in a post, she's reviewed my previous work, The Book of Helen, and is part of a writer's group that seeks to keep all of us writing and improving, both as writers and human beings.
When she invited me to participate, I wasn't sure I should, having just suspended my blog. But it's fair to say I want to keep writing, and baring my taking on a full time position somewhere, I need to keep working if I'm to remain a writer and not a want-a-be. I'm still considering what my blog should be, but in the meantime, I'll update everyone on any and all progress on all things writing.
So...where are we with Penelope...I'd say we're looking at all these threads and wondering how we are going to weave them into a coherent whole. But Penelope is more patient than I am on any given day, so she's kept at me to keep reading, keep reflecting, and keep writing. She's currently 81K, and I hope to get to 100 by the end of October. Doable, but I need to press.
What else are you doing Sherry? I applied for a position as a reporter and became part of his freelance pool. I have secured some assignments. I'm still editing a manuscript for another author, and I still produce the weekly column for Catholicmom.com, Small Success Thursday. Writing still remains very necessary to my every day.
Now, I get to tag five writers and help them promote what they are doing and why.
So for starters, I chose Erin Manning, a fellow Catholic writer who blogs over at And Sometimes Tea. She's a more thoughtful writer than I am, she takes more time with her posts, whereas I fire and forget. She's also forayed into fiction, so like me, she wears many hats.
One of my favorite people runs a blog Confessions of a Sleep Deprived Momma. She also runs a charity, volunteers, and keeps up with her very active family, but the posts she puts up are funny, real, and reveal a bigger reality than just...today we went out and I read a book sort of stuff. So Shelley Colquitt, I hope you'll take the challenge and dust off your blog to let others know what you're doing.
John Konecsni is a fried via the Catholic Writer's Guild and he does a bang up job on thrillers with accurate Church history. He has a trilogy called The Pius Trilogy, which I've had the privilege of reading and enjoying so I'm tapping him for his current and past work.
Karina Fabian is one of the most prolific writers out there, and always has at least three projects she's putting out for the eager reader. I'm partial to her dragon detective Vern, but she also dabbles in zombie stories, time travel and I'll let you find out what else over at Fabian Space.
Last but certainly not least, one of my favorite people, the editor of all my Small Successes. Sarah Reinhard blogs at Snoring Scholar. She reads voraciously and is also a Catholic speaker and helps with the website Catholicmom.com. So Ladies and Gentleman, please consider yourself tagged, and use the opportunity to update your readers and mine on your current works in progress and projects.
Thanks Amanda for tagging me!
Friday, August 8, 2014
At the National Catholic Register Today!!!
And busy working on Detours --editing, Orange to Singapore --editing, writing Penelope, researching Penelope, drafting an interview for the Sisters of Life --for an assignment and booking interviews for the Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine in St. Augustine, Florida, Saint Mary of the Annunciation in Columbia, South Carolina and getting ready for back to school.
So here's the link. Enjoy and I hope you make a pilgrimage, because it really is spectacular!
Come visit the Basilica for the Feast of the Assumption!
So here's the link. Enjoy and I hope you make a pilgrimage, because it really is spectacular!
Come visit the Basilica for the Feast of the Assumption!
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Things I'd Tell Myself Before I Started Writing
10. I wish you read everything you read with more than half a mind on finishing.
9. Outline. It's okay to change the outline, but honestly, outline.
8. Rewrite and surrender your heart. It doesn't matter if it is pure poetry if it doesn't fit or drags the plot.
7. Know how your character would get ready in the morning, what they would do first, what they would wear, what they would eat, what they would hate. Also how they would get ready for bed, if you can go through the ordinary in character, you can place your character anywhere and let them behave in a consistent manner.
6. Just because it's beautiful, doesn't mean it reads.
5. EDIT and REREAD YOU FOOL.
4. Research. No matter how much you've read, you're not an expert or a scholar, you're at best, a rookie who has made it through the first half of the season and knows just enough to be foolish but not know it.
3. Don't talk about the book or the scene until after you write it.
2. Keep a book for reading and a notebook and pen for writing plus post-its on your person at all times.
1. Write legibly. Every time. Even when you think you'll remember.
9. Outline. It's okay to change the outline, but honestly, outline.
8. Rewrite and surrender your heart. It doesn't matter if it is pure poetry if it doesn't fit or drags the plot.
7. Know how your character would get ready in the morning, what they would do first, what they would wear, what they would eat, what they would hate. Also how they would get ready for bed, if you can go through the ordinary in character, you can place your character anywhere and let them behave in a consistent manner.
6. Just because it's beautiful, doesn't mean it reads.
5. EDIT and REREAD YOU FOOL.
4. Research. No matter how much you've read, you're not an expert or a scholar, you're at best, a rookie who has made it through the first half of the season and knows just enough to be foolish but not know it.
3. Don't talk about the book or the scene until after you write it.
2. Keep a book for reading and a notebook and pen for writing plus post-its on your person at all times.
1. Write legibly. Every time. Even when you think you'll remember.
Friday, May 24, 2013
7 Quick Takes
2. There are so many movies I want to see. I've seen Iron Man 3 before, we're going to Into the Darkness tonight (Can't wait can't wait can't wait!) and then there's Now You See Me. That one looks slick and cool.
3. I am also considering three new viewing addictions that currently are popular. Downtown Abby, Game of Thrones...and Dr. Who. Yes. I'm aware that they are cult phenomena, every one of them. Yes I'm aware I'm late to the party. What I'd like to know is which one should I sink my teeth into next and why. Sell me. Give me the pitch of why I should watch whichever one you think worth watching.
4. Next week, I go to the reunion at Saint Mary's. I hope to walk to Notre Dame and light a candle at the grotto. I'll get to see two of my favorite teachers for lunch on Friday. It stuns me that this was my life, my whole life only 25 years ago. The passage of time seems like nothing, and yet there is so much that has been crammed into these past many years. It leaves me winded.
5. Does anyone else feel like the razor of the world is cutting deeper these days? For me, the news has become a daily assault on my peace and sensibilities. I think it is why the Church gave us Pope Francis, because his exhortations to be more than a museum piece Catholic, to go out and be salt and light to the world, well we knew this, but it is so heartening, so warming to be invited.
6. Two kids are done with school, one has exams next week. Then we have two weeks before everyone gets out! SUMMER!!!!!!!!I believe I love it even more than they....and I hate their summer math books more too. I was going to equivocate on that last bit but it's true. I hate those books. Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate them. I don't care that they are good for boosting math skills. They are evil and ruin summer that should be spent grilling, swimming, reading book after book after book, catching frogs and fireflies (not at the same time) and playing cards with your parents. You know what's not on that list? Math books. There. I said it. Bleah.
7. There's a new post over on Facebook page for The Book of Helen. It is an open page so anyone on Facebook can go over and read it. I would ask if you haven't yet, to please please please like the page. My goal this week is to break 100 likes. Next week, we'll work on getting to 200.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Sherry's Writing Rules
Dreaming of writing the next great American novel or at least crafting a story that has been kicking around in your head whenever you get the opportunity to be still? Writing is all about allowing your imaginary friends in that genre to talk to you and tell you what they're going to do and where and when, and then doing the research to put them in their place for those occasions when you're not on speaking terms.
So...how to begin?
10) Sit in the chair. Yes seriously this is the hardest part for many, for writing cannot be multi-tasked, it is a singular experience. You can have music on in the background but sooner or later if you are writing, everything else falls away.
9) Have a word limit, but unlike a speed limit, this is your daily minimum. Make it low enough to meet but high enough to push you on occasion. I write a poem a day regardless of whether I blog or not, just to keep the brain moving.
8) Banish the "But what if it's no good" sentence from your brain. You're right, a lot of what you generate will be less than perfect, less than golden, but it is process that generates good quality material. We are working towards improving, rather than perfection. Inner critics are never pleased, never stated, never satisfied and seldom complimentary. I send them rejection letters all the time. It is very satisfying.
7) Corollary to #8, be unafraid and be true. No one ever got excited by someone who held a tepid opinion. If you're going to write something, make it beautiful, make it about something that matters to you. Otherwise, you will grow bored and stop writing.
6) Addendum to #7 Be unafraid to have fun. That means, you can make things up, you can go nuts. Take notes on your life and craft slices and elements into your stories. It's cathartic, it's calorie free provided you don't snack while at the computer, and it allows you to breathe into your characters greater life. People watch and notice one thing about each person that passes by as you sit at a park bench, make up the history of that item and why it is important. Airports are awesome for this sort of thing, just past the security check point, when people are putting themselves back together. Yes, I do this sort of thing and think it fun. That may be why TSA did a private pat down of me last time I passed through the screening.
5) Edit. Writing is not a 2nd or even a 3rd draft business. It is a Edit until you hate the damn thing but it sings business. There's no magic number, but it is always more than 1 and is only less than the number that makes you hit Delete.
4) Read. Pay attention to how things are written. You will start to notice distinctive phrases, cliches, points of view, writing crutches, etc. You will become aware of the writer, though good writing, really good writing flows such that you only hear the image created by the words.
3) Join a writer's group and/or forum. It will help sharpen your writer's ear and improve your craft. It will also help you to grow a thicker skin. You will discover you can survive the experience of something other than praise. You will also learn the business part of writing and that can lead to submissions and even (huzzah) paid work.
2) Read aloud your own writing. Be advised, this is a wounding experience. Ack! Wooden dialogue...must...stop...Captain...Kirk-like mannerisms. It's like looking in the mirror in the fitting room, you know where and why you need to hit the gym.
1) Don't quit. Keep writing. Keep editing. Keep reading, keep rewriting. There's only one way to guarantee failure, don't try, don't even start.
So...how to begin?
10) Sit in the chair. Yes seriously this is the hardest part for many, for writing cannot be multi-tasked, it is a singular experience. You can have music on in the background but sooner or later if you are writing, everything else falls away.
9) Have a word limit, but unlike a speed limit, this is your daily minimum. Make it low enough to meet but high enough to push you on occasion. I write a poem a day regardless of whether I blog or not, just to keep the brain moving.
8) Banish the "But what if it's no good" sentence from your brain. You're right, a lot of what you generate will be less than perfect, less than golden, but it is process that generates good quality material. We are working towards improving, rather than perfection. Inner critics are never pleased, never stated, never satisfied and seldom complimentary. I send them rejection letters all the time. It is very satisfying.
7) Corollary to #8, be unafraid and be true. No one ever got excited by someone who held a tepid opinion. If you're going to write something, make it beautiful, make it about something that matters to you. Otherwise, you will grow bored and stop writing.
6) Addendum to #7 Be unafraid to have fun. That means, you can make things up, you can go nuts. Take notes on your life and craft slices and elements into your stories. It's cathartic, it's calorie free provided you don't snack while at the computer, and it allows you to breathe into your characters greater life. People watch and notice one thing about each person that passes by as you sit at a park bench, make up the history of that item and why it is important. Airports are awesome for this sort of thing, just past the security check point, when people are putting themselves back together. Yes, I do this sort of thing and think it fun. That may be why TSA did a private pat down of me last time I passed through the screening.
5) Edit. Writing is not a 2nd or even a 3rd draft business. It is a Edit until you hate the damn thing but it sings business. There's no magic number, but it is always more than 1 and is only less than the number that makes you hit Delete.
4) Read. Pay attention to how things are written. You will start to notice distinctive phrases, cliches, points of view, writing crutches, etc. You will become aware of the writer, though good writing, really good writing flows such that you only hear the image created by the words.
3) Join a writer's group and/or forum. It will help sharpen your writer's ear and improve your craft. It will also help you to grow a thicker skin. You will discover you can survive the experience of something other than praise. You will also learn the business part of writing and that can lead to submissions and even (huzzah) paid work.
2) Read aloud your own writing. Be advised, this is a wounding experience. Ack! Wooden dialogue...must...stop...Captain...Kirk-like mannerisms. It's like looking in the mirror in the fitting room, you know where and why you need to hit the gym.
1) Don't quit. Keep writing. Keep editing. Keep reading, keep rewriting. There's only one way to guarantee failure, don't try, don't even start.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Helen Update
The first round of edits went to the editor last week. Now, I am tackling the second round. She has sent me the first 80 pages. I have run through the first 43. I hit a wall. Writing about hitting a wall helps me acknowledge I've become stuck and thus start becoming unstuck. I'd been living in the world of I'm a writer, I just finished editing so I can rest on my laurels. Or as my daughter illustrated:
One of the first things you learn to NOT do, is head hop. This is not taught or even talked about outside of writer circles. I'd never heard of it until I read about common mistakes writers make in the course of exploring the forums of Absolute Write. Head hopping is where you get insights into what different people are thinking in a scene that affect the scene without being voiced or observed by anyone in particular. If you have an all knowing narrator, this is still a problem as it can be confusing who is doing the talking. I have a few moments I need to rewrite to eliminate hopping from head to head.
Absent having characters with telepathy, which if I wrote sci-fi would be a prerequisite of writing such stuff, as conversations within conversations would be fun, you can't do it. Even if you think your book is ground breaking, you can't do it. This give me small satisfaction, to know if Faulkner wrote the Sound and the Fury today, he wouldn't be able to confuse the daylights out of me because his editor would have flagged him for major head hopping. Yes, I'm still smarting from my American Authors class in junior year of college and I should let that go.
So I'm going to hit the next 20 pages today.
With the first book in the second editing stage, I am now starting to collect the books needed for the sequel, the Book of Penelope. Why? I need background, a blueprint and scaffolding. I don't want to make the same mistake twice.
What mistake?
I cannot stress this enough, I would have finished Helen at least a child and a laptop ago if I hadn't tried to write this thing without the benefit of an outline or at least a map of the story. I knew where I wanted to go, but not how to get there. Dead reckoning for the novice writer seldom gets you to the destination. You can be bull headed (my favorite technique), and you might eventually get to the magical words, "The End," but only after a lot of detours. In my case, at least 50,000 words of deleted chapters before the ones that got deleted in the editing process.
Why bring this up? Yesterday, I saw a comment on a writing post, "I'm a great writer and I've written a lot of little things but I want to write a book. I don't want to do an outline, I just want the book to happen."
I can say right now, that book won't happen.
Books don't happen. They may be inspired, they may write quickly, they may be clear, they may be best sellers. They don't just happen. Waiting for inspiration in order to write is like waiting until you are hungry to start cooking. You can bang out some mac and cheese or maybe a steak if it's defrosted, but to make a good meal, requires planning, technique, the right ingredients and time. So also, a good book. I don't have a genii producing a gourmet meal, and there is no book genii writing the book either. The book genii says "Hey genius, you want to write the book? Start outlining." (See, your english teacher in high school was right about this).
I'll have my same 7th-10th grade response too. It's hard to outline a piece you haven't written. I don't yet know all that the Book of Penelope is supposed to be about. However, I've learned the inspiration will come if I just get moving and it's a lot easier to craft the scenes you want than to kill scenes you've poured time into and fallen in love with, but which don't advance the story.
So I do understand the desire to wait for lightning to strike before starting, but I've told myself, you know how this works, so get to it.
If you need me today, I'll be editing or outlining, presuming inspiration will come and maybe saying "Thanks" in my head to my high school english teachers.
Absent having characters with telepathy, which if I wrote sci-fi would be a prerequisite of writing such stuff, as conversations within conversations would be fun, you can't do it. Even if you think your book is ground breaking, you can't do it. This give me small satisfaction, to know if Faulkner wrote the Sound and the Fury today, he wouldn't be able to confuse the daylights out of me because his editor would have flagged him for major head hopping. Yes, I'm still smarting from my American Authors class in junior year of college and I should let that go.
So I'm going to hit the next 20 pages today.
With the first book in the second editing stage, I am now starting to collect the books needed for the sequel, the Book of Penelope. Why? I need background, a blueprint and scaffolding. I don't want to make the same mistake twice.
What mistake?
I cannot stress this enough, I would have finished Helen at least a child and a laptop ago if I hadn't tried to write this thing without the benefit of an outline or at least a map of the story. I knew where I wanted to go, but not how to get there. Dead reckoning for the novice writer seldom gets you to the destination. You can be bull headed (my favorite technique), and you might eventually get to the magical words, "The End," but only after a lot of detours. In my case, at least 50,000 words of deleted chapters before the ones that got deleted in the editing process.
Why bring this up? Yesterday, I saw a comment on a writing post, "I'm a great writer and I've written a lot of little things but I want to write a book. I don't want to do an outline, I just want the book to happen."
I can say right now, that book won't happen.
Books don't happen. They may be inspired, they may write quickly, they may be clear, they may be best sellers. They don't just happen. Waiting for inspiration in order to write is like waiting until you are hungry to start cooking. You can bang out some mac and cheese or maybe a steak if it's defrosted, but to make a good meal, requires planning, technique, the right ingredients and time. So also, a good book. I don't have a genii producing a gourmet meal, and there is no book genii writing the book either. The book genii says "Hey genius, you want to write the book? Start outlining." (See, your english teacher in high school was right about this).
I'll have my same 7th-10th grade response too. It's hard to outline a piece you haven't written. I don't yet know all that the Book of Penelope is supposed to be about. However, I've learned the inspiration will come if I just get moving and it's a lot easier to craft the scenes you want than to kill scenes you've poured time into and fallen in love with, but which don't advance the story.
So I do understand the desire to wait for lightning to strike before starting, but I've told myself, you know how this works, so get to it.
If you need me today, I'll be editing or outlining, presuming inspiration will come and maybe saying "Thanks" in my head to my high school english teachers.
Friday, March 8, 2013
7 Quick Takes Friday
1. Sorry about the Super Light Blogging.
My daughter has helpfully provided the motivation.
2. How is Your Lent Going?
Mine is oddly well. I know I'm turning to prayer more, that's for certain. The scary wonderful thing is, I can see the effects. The kids have always claimed I have an unfair friendship with Saint Anthony. They can cite many examples of things lost that he's found for me almost instantaneously upon request. My oldest daughter jokes that I have an unpaid internship upon my death answering his calls as restitution for all of his intervention. I told my daughter she could have a deeper relationship with a particular saint if she sought it. That day, she and her sister had been at odds. It was day three of deep dispute. Both had been lectured. Both were urged to reconcile. Both refused.
Frustrated at the level of discord in the family, I went to both of them and told them each to pray to Our Lady, Undoer of Knots. Now I know she has that title, and I even understand that title, but I didn't know the origin, nor did I really know why that particular suggestion came to my mind other than, the Holy Spirit knew what we needed. Less than an hour later, the two who seemed so set in their grudges, so hard in their hearts, had made a real peace. Thank you Mary, Undoer of Knots.
3. A Miracle Every Day
This morning, my daughter came upstairs more chatty than usual, her heart was light. "I prayed last night to Saint Joan." She added. It's her favorite saint. She'd prayed it would snow. As soon as she said it, I saw flakes. There was a swirl of flakes, surrounding our home. A cloud had parked right over our house and it was snowing, really snowing but only here. I quipped, "You know, Saint Joan probably said, "This is not really my forte, I'm not normally associated with cold things." But it was an answer, and the answer was yes. It was silly and small and yet joyful. I'm becoming more and more convinced that if we had our eyes open and our hearts as well, we would see the miraculous in the world every day.
4. Editing is like purgatory.
All your writing sins are revealed, line by line, word by word. And you spend the editing process trying to fix all the writing sins, knowing because you do not have eternity, that your penance shall be that whatever you fail to fix, will be read by your friends and family. I'm suddenly regretting gently ribbing my sons for spell check errors like "The Dairy of Anne Frank" and Jesus visiting the sick leopards, and my daughter for the essay, "Why We Need a Book Club at Saint Martians." Hey Sherry, how's that Buck ov HELL AND coming?
5. Sin is Like McDonald's.
Wish I'd had this insight, it came from my daughter who has a particular weakness for their chicken nuggets and fries. She explained, "You KNOW it's bad for you. You KNOW it has long term bad effects. You DON'T want those long term effects. But it looks good and I'm hungry so I'm eating it now." Catechism through fast food...who knew?..well, I should have, because eating fish on Fridays at any of those places is penance..but then, I'm stupid enough to have eaten fish on a Friday at one of those places.
6. Not a Scouting Mom
Three of my children are currently in scouting programs. This is the emotional equivalent of existing for 40 days on Filet-O-Fish for me. One of my children was in the pine wood derby contest. We didn't go to the workshop so his car looked essentially like a block of wood with wheels. He made it, he painted it, he thought it was beautiful. Every kid at these things gets an award. His award said, "Best Block of Wood." He was still proud. He did not get the veiled insult/irony. However, this does not make me love scouting more.
7. Healthy Eating
I have two committed athletes who run or exercise daily. I have two others with massive amounts of misinformation but who are trying their darnedest. My doctor has requested a food diary. This too feels like confession, every day I'm having to write something like I confess I ate a bowl of cheese grits, a Wendy's spicy chicken and a free chocolate frosty, the leftover Frito's and washed it down with an extra large diet coke. I also snagged a peppermint patty at the gas station and ate half a Klondike bar because my daughter was full. It is not fun. It does explain why my diet is going nowhere fast.
Fortunately, my children have come to my rescue. There is a contest to fill the food pantry at the school. Yesterday I discovered as I hefted two unusually heavy backpacks into the car, half our can goods have been donated. How do I explain charity in moderation to an 8, 7 and 5 year old? I haven't. They're too happy giving away my soups and beans and pasta and tuna. Hopefully their generosity will translate to my sveltness.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Today at the Catholic Stand
http://catholicstand.com/life-in-the-fasting-lane/
I apologize that blogging has been uber lax lately. Busy editing, ergo all my writing energies are very focused. Hope to return to normal blogging soon.
--Sherry
Friday, October 5, 2012
7 Quick Takes
1. Where Are You On Your Book?
Editing. Starting on page one. My new best friend Annie (the editor at Museitup) has given me 15 days to go through all the that, had, but, and, then, about, was, as, very, were, has been, had been, will be, as if, as though, ly adverbs, around, just, could only, some, going to, started to, began or began to, towards, backwards, forwards, should of's of my 312 pages. Oy.
2. How is Penelope doing?
She's having to be patient. I'm stuck at 15k. I need a structure, a scaffolding for this book. I'm trying to discipline my mind enough to do it. There seems to be an absence of will in my spirit these days, like my brain is fried and dull.
3. How is Exercise doing?
See #2. I have yet to do my first push up in the month of October.
4. What Else is Going on?
I'm still doing a daily rosary, still trying to keep the laundry from exploding out of control, still waiting for a dishwasher to arrive on the 8th and still have two weeks of baseball left. We also have a homecoming this weekend and a child who turns 7.
I'm not sure if I
5. Have you planned the party?
Not yet. We have an idea. We have a date in mind. We need to get started. Stat! What are we doing? Halloween party with costumes, bobbing for apples, that spook house under the table bit, musical chairs to the Monster Mash, a cake with vampire teeth --birthday girl's idea, broom races, and pumpkin painting. Should be fun.
6. What Else?
I'm a bit sad because a favorite professor from Notre Dame, a man who taught my father, my husband and later me, (Political Theory and Camus), died this past week. A bit of the heart of the campus for me, is no longer on campus.
7. Costumes for Halloween: So far, I have one Rainbow Dash, one dinosaur, one cheerleader, one who wanted to be a vampire but can't so I'll have to sell her on something else, (Maybe she can be a Vampire Slayer Cheerleader), one who always squirms and then opts for a straight rubber mask --like a Gorilla, and one who I think will be a princess again because she loves them so, Link, and the inscrutable one still hasn't decided but is considering Moaning Myrtle again. (It was one of my favorite costumes that she created so I'm hoping).
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Can I See Your Writer's Liscence?
Yes. There's a problem officer.
As followers of this blog know, I have a book I've worked on for five years. What I can tell you now that I've written the darn thing is I did everything wrong except to keep going until the end. Writing a book without an outline (which is what I did), is like sitting down in a car and thinking you can drive on the Autobahn because you've played Mario Go-Kart against your kids and sometimes won after falling into the mushroom pit only twice in a five lap race.
There are subplot dead ends all over the place. The thing needs a hair cut, a styling and a wash and blow dry with a flat iron. It is my beautiful Frankenstein. It's alive. It shouldn't hold together but it does, and it is my creation so I love it. But it's a wet hot mess that needs work work work.
When I start to pull at things, there is a domino effect. I write this and it means this needs work and this needs to be addressed and you forgot that, such that I wonder, should I even touch this? People who know nothing about remodeling but try to "do it yourself" discover that the first step to remodeling is to be willing to tear something down or take something away. I find when I DIY, there are nails sticking out that shouldn't, holes that weren't there before and eventually, I need to call a professional. Who did I think I was kidding and why am I here driving myself crazy? It reminds me of 8th grade when I ran a race and I'd gone through three laps of the thing. Everyone else had finished and I lay down. I didn't quit but I sure thought about it for a few minutes while I caught my breath and wondered why I ever started running in the first place. What was so important?
I read my book and truthfully, I both want to finish and lay down. I want to tell everyone I wrote it...and I'm not sure I want anyone to read it. It is the neurosis that plagues every writer. We know bad writing. We know good writing. We know there are flashes of both in our work. We also know the most critical thing is to not be afraid of what we've written or what needs to be rewritten.
Most writers do not like rewriting. It means we are redoing. It's much more fun to create new worlds and new words. So we stall. I read on the process of editing. I read a secondary source for the next book. I write about editing. I make copies of the book in hard back so I can edit but call that part of "the process" of editing. I talk about editing. I call others to talk about editing. I buy colored post-its for editing and a special pen, then I lose them and the kids play with them until they don't exist. Darn I have to get more BEFORE I can edit. Maybe I should wait for my editor to make suggestions.
In short I do everything I can think of without editing. I work on the next book and pretend I'm not making the same errors of rushing in to write it rather than thinking it through, stubbornly believing because I'm more experienced, I'll not make the same errors. Rather, it is more likely I'll make the same errors but be convinced I'm not in error, like the way I have to get lost to get to my kid's basketball practice court because I got lost the first time and the second because this is the way I came and that looks familiar, such that going the wrong way has become an ingrained part of getting there intuitively.
Right now, I could be editing. You know what I'm thinking about doing? Going downstairs to play Mario Go-Kart.
Officer, "Would you care to sit down in the chair? There's a warrant for your editing and I've been instructed to take you to your computer."
Hopefully I'll make parole for good behavior.
As followers of this blog know, I have a book I've worked on for five years. What I can tell you now that I've written the darn thing is I did everything wrong except to keep going until the end. Writing a book without an outline (which is what I did), is like sitting down in a car and thinking you can drive on the Autobahn because you've played Mario Go-Kart against your kids and sometimes won after falling into the mushroom pit only twice in a five lap race.
There are subplot dead ends all over the place. The thing needs a hair cut, a styling and a wash and blow dry with a flat iron. It is my beautiful Frankenstein. It's alive. It shouldn't hold together but it does, and it is my creation so I love it. But it's a wet hot mess that needs work work work.
When I start to pull at things, there is a domino effect. I write this and it means this needs work and this needs to be addressed and you forgot that, such that I wonder, should I even touch this? People who know nothing about remodeling but try to "do it yourself" discover that the first step to remodeling is to be willing to tear something down or take something away. I find when I DIY, there are nails sticking out that shouldn't, holes that weren't there before and eventually, I need to call a professional. Who did I think I was kidding and why am I here driving myself crazy? It reminds me of 8th grade when I ran a race and I'd gone through three laps of the thing. Everyone else had finished and I lay down. I didn't quit but I sure thought about it for a few minutes while I caught my breath and wondered why I ever started running in the first place. What was so important?
I read my book and truthfully, I both want to finish and lay down. I want to tell everyone I wrote it...and I'm not sure I want anyone to read it. It is the neurosis that plagues every writer. We know bad writing. We know good writing. We know there are flashes of both in our work. We also know the most critical thing is to not be afraid of what we've written or what needs to be rewritten.
Most writers do not like rewriting. It means we are redoing. It's much more fun to create new worlds and new words. So we stall. I read on the process of editing. I read a secondary source for the next book. I write about editing. I make copies of the book in hard back so I can edit but call that part of "the process" of editing. I talk about editing. I call others to talk about editing. I buy colored post-its for editing and a special pen, then I lose them and the kids play with them until they don't exist. Darn I have to get more BEFORE I can edit. Maybe I should wait for my editor to make suggestions.
In short I do everything I can think of without editing. I work on the next book and pretend I'm not making the same errors of rushing in to write it rather than thinking it through, stubbornly believing because I'm more experienced, I'll not make the same errors. Rather, it is more likely I'll make the same errors but be convinced I'm not in error, like the way I have to get lost to get to my kid's basketball practice court because I got lost the first time and the second because this is the way I came and that looks familiar, such that going the wrong way has become an ingrained part of getting there intuitively.
Right now, I could be editing. You know what I'm thinking about doing? Going downstairs to play Mario Go-Kart.
Officer, "Would you care to sit down in the chair? There's a warrant for your editing and I've been instructed to take you to your computer."
Hopefully I'll make parole for good behavior.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Taking a bow
I started writing the Book of Helen back in 2007, when I had 8 children.
Now it is 2012 and I have ten. Today I finished (plugging the holes) in the book, and while there are edits and I don't for a minute think I'm done reworking and tugging at her, I was able to get to "The END" which is a mile marker. A five year gestation to begin editing....but I finished. I finished. Don't get all messy about the details. I finished. You can shuffle pieces about tomorrow Sherry and flesh out that one thought and maybe trim that other section tomorrow but today...
This is my victory lap.
I'll get back to work on this mess tomorrow...but tonight...celebrating with a chocolate bar and a diet coke.
Now it is 2012 and I have ten. Today I finished (plugging the holes) in the book, and while there are edits and I don't for a minute think I'm done reworking and tugging at her, I was able to get to "The END" which is a mile marker. A five year gestation to begin editing....but I finished. I finished. Don't get all messy about the details. I finished. You can shuffle pieces about tomorrow Sherry and flesh out that one thought and maybe trim that other section tomorrow but today...
This is my victory lap.
I'll get back to work on this mess tomorrow...but tonight...celebrating with a chocolate bar and a diet coke.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
The Right Writing Time
Writing has been mostly editing Helen lately. My blogging has been (as you may have noticed), close to non existent.
In the month of May, we've had exams, a graduation, a first communion, a confirmation and all of the ordinary parts of life, a dryer and an air conditioner dying plus a college age son coming home. Carving out solo time at the computer has become a challenge during waking hours, which in my house range from 5:00 AM to 1 AM...and I've not become so desperate that I'm willing to set the alarm to get up during those four hours.
In June (and yes it's two days old so...), we've had Tornado watches, warnings and I had to pay the bills and we hosted 7 college friends of our oldest who came over to eat pizza and play cards down in the basement.
I had lots of valid excuses for the past two weeks of not writing...but a writer....writes. A writer makes time to write. At that point, I wondered, was I losing my gift of writing. Did I not have the chops? I understood the neurosis of a writer...if I'm not writing I should be...and when I sit down at the computer...ooh...look...Facebook....shiny.
No. No.
I pulled up my book.
Hey Mom, we're playing Magic. What's the sign for Vampire?" I looked it up. "What's the sign for explode?" "You have to spell it. It's a sound." Back to Helen. Helen and Polyoxo having breakfast...research what is an ancient Greek breakfast...Wikipedia to the rescue...feta cheese --too modern, figs...but I've already indicated Helen hated figs....sometimes bread dipped in wine...symbolically cool. We have a winner.
"Hey Mom? What's for breakfast? We're hungry." Seven toasted english muffins, two plates of raisin bread and the last of the frozen waffles later, I need a diet coke. Now. Helen and Polyoxo talking.
"MOMMMM. The Baby is STINKY!" Up again.
Two diapers later, because the toddler saw the production and presented himself in line. Back to Helen. The dishwasher needs unloading...no...no...I'm going to write. I sit down.
"Mom. What time is it?" "I'm bored." "Can I go to my friend's house?" "Can I have leftover pizza?"
"10:04." "Go play." "Yes." "No."
Bored child and child that wanted to go to friend's and child thwarted on pizza now singing a loud happy chorus of "Kill the wabbit. Kill the wabbit." because "Flight of the Valkyries" has come on the radio.
Brain is now leaving Greece and somewhere in between Wagner and Elmer Fudd. I'll come back to this scene later. Grabbing my vitamins and a mocha fiber bar and washing it down with my soda for breakfast, my five year old comes over. She takes my hand. "Come watch My Little Pony with me." Feeling the soft warmth of her hand, the book fades to the back...
This is how novels are not written. May set phone to wake me up at 2 tonight.
In the month of May, we've had exams, a graduation, a first communion, a confirmation and all of the ordinary parts of life, a dryer and an air conditioner dying plus a college age son coming home. Carving out solo time at the computer has become a challenge during waking hours, which in my house range from 5:00 AM to 1 AM...and I've not become so desperate that I'm willing to set the alarm to get up during those four hours.
In June (and yes it's two days old so...), we've had Tornado watches, warnings and I had to pay the bills and we hosted 7 college friends of our oldest who came over to eat pizza and play cards down in the basement.
I had lots of valid excuses for the past two weeks of not writing...but a writer....writes. A writer makes time to write. At that point, I wondered, was I losing my gift of writing. Did I not have the chops? I understood the neurosis of a writer...if I'm not writing I should be...and when I sit down at the computer...ooh...look...Facebook....shiny.
No. No.
I pulled up my book.
Hey Mom, we're playing Magic. What's the sign for Vampire?" I looked it up. "What's the sign for explode?" "You have to spell it. It's a sound." Back to Helen. Helen and Polyoxo having breakfast...research what is an ancient Greek breakfast...Wikipedia to the rescue...feta cheese --too modern, figs...but I've already indicated Helen hated figs....sometimes bread dipped in wine...symbolically cool. We have a winner.
"Hey Mom? What's for breakfast? We're hungry." Seven toasted english muffins, two plates of raisin bread and the last of the frozen waffles later, I need a diet coke. Now. Helen and Polyoxo talking.
"MOMMMM. The Baby is STINKY!" Up again.
Two diapers later, because the toddler saw the production and presented himself in line. Back to Helen. The dishwasher needs unloading...no...no...I'm going to write. I sit down.
"Mom. What time is it?" "I'm bored." "Can I go to my friend's house?" "Can I have leftover pizza?"
"10:04." "Go play." "Yes." "No."
Bored child and child that wanted to go to friend's and child thwarted on pizza now singing a loud happy chorus of "Kill the wabbit. Kill the wabbit." because "Flight of the Valkyries" has come on the radio.
Brain is now leaving Greece and somewhere in between Wagner and Elmer Fudd. I'll come back to this scene later. Grabbing my vitamins and a mocha fiber bar and washing it down with my soda for breakfast, my five year old comes over. She takes my hand. "Come watch My Little Pony with me." Feeling the soft warmth of her hand, the book fades to the back...
This is how novels are not written. May set phone to wake me up at 2 tonight.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
But Mom, This Makes Me Look CooL...Really
In getting ready to write a regular column, I revisited some of my old blog entries that never saw daylight. Now I take my writing seriously and try very hard to make sure the things I put on the blog are at least moderately edited and above all things, worth reading. However, once posted or published or sent off into the email wonderland for consideration, I don’t go back to peruse them. Because I’d “Fire and forget” carpet bomb editors with columns, I never looked back to reread any of my stuff…until now.
Going back into the blog postings of the past year is like revisiting one’s high school yearbook. It’s awkward and irritating because I know when I was in that moment, that I believed with all my heart, leg warmers and unicorns were cool and Xanadu worth watching.
Twice.
My mother did counsel against the second viewing of Olivia Newton John’s musical with Gene Kelly, but I couldn’t get past the glow of the music. She also suggested the “I Brake for Unicorns” bumper sticker for the car might be a poor choice.
Currently on my laptop, I have a file with 200 plus unicorns.
They were once sparkling and beautiful and glorious magical things that popped off the page with their dazzling brilliance. Sure they needed minor trimming, but these were inventive thoughts that deserved to be circulated amongst a broad circle of people. Now, I’m looking at these ungainly unnatural creations of mine and many seem far more monstrous than first imagined. “Why didn’t someone stop me?” I wonder.
Looking at my junior yearbook drama club picture, I'm the one with a pink bathrobe sash tied around my forehead like a headband. Maybe the fact that no one wanted to stand next to me should have been a clue.
Yeah. I know. Mom tried to stop that one too.
Now, as I trim run-on sentences and find misspelled words I have to wonder...when I send these pieces off, am I sending real unicorns or bathrobe sashes that I thought people would mistake for headbands because they were pink?
Maybe, I should call my Mom.
Going back into the blog postings of the past year is like revisiting one’s high school yearbook. It’s awkward and irritating because I know when I was in that moment, that I believed with all my heart, leg warmers and unicorns were cool and Xanadu worth watching.
Twice.
My mother did counsel against the second viewing of Olivia Newton John’s musical with Gene Kelly, but I couldn’t get past the glow of the music. She also suggested the “I Brake for Unicorns” bumper sticker for the car might be a poor choice.
Currently on my laptop, I have a file with 200 plus unicorns.
They were once sparkling and beautiful and glorious magical things that popped off the page with their dazzling brilliance. Sure they needed minor trimming, but these were inventive thoughts that deserved to be circulated amongst a broad circle of people. Now, I’m looking at these ungainly unnatural creations of mine and many seem far more monstrous than first imagined. “Why didn’t someone stop me?” I wonder.
Looking at my junior yearbook drama club picture, I'm the one with a pink bathrobe sash tied around my forehead like a headband. Maybe the fact that no one wanted to stand next to me should have been a clue.
Yeah. I know. Mom tried to stop that one too.
Now, as I trim run-on sentences and find misspelled words I have to wonder...when I send these pieces off, am I sending real unicorns or bathrobe sashes that I thought people would mistake for headbands because they were pink?
Maybe, I should call my Mom.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Where did My Inspiration Go...
Last week, I spent the bulk of my time editing.
My son had a project in English.
It was supposed to be a journal of his life and suffering. The premise was to imitate an author who wrote about his life and explained that suffering allowed him to see the world more clearly, to recognize how societal norms perpetuated pain and suffering. The kids were then supposed to look at their own lives for patterns to discern about the nature of reality.
The trouble is, he's fourteen and grew up in a reasonably normal home. He wasn't abused. He's never seen his parents fight where they threw things. He's never done drugs. He has friends. He's had academic and personal success already in his life, getting a scholarship and making honor role consistently in grammar school. We've never lost everything, had to sell his baseball card collection or had more than the emotional equivalent of a skinned knee in terms of life experience that might have traumatized him.
Unless you count the summer of Lyme disease, that rotted, but it was second grade. It's been a while. I think he's over it.
So the topics: The first time I tasted Alchohol, The first time I defied Authority, The First Time He Got in a Fight, the First Day of School, had a sing song element to them that made my son sound like Polly-Anna.
His great conflict to date? Refusing to eat refried beans served by his parents. This was his great suffering.
First day of School? Preschool memory of meeting the person who would become his best friend.
First taste of Alchohol --he made it up, since the teacher said "Receiving the Eucharist didn't count." I said, "Didn't count for what?"
Trying to pull something of depth out of a surface driven life that is essentially at this point unscathed and unscarred, we focused on his blessings. But I pointed out that if his premise was that only through suffering could one come to understand the true nature of the world, I should serve him beans daily.
He said I was full of beans.
My son had a project in English.
It was supposed to be a journal of his life and suffering. The premise was to imitate an author who wrote about his life and explained that suffering allowed him to see the world more clearly, to recognize how societal norms perpetuated pain and suffering. The kids were then supposed to look at their own lives for patterns to discern about the nature of reality.
The trouble is, he's fourteen and grew up in a reasonably normal home. He wasn't abused. He's never seen his parents fight where they threw things. He's never done drugs. He has friends. He's had academic and personal success already in his life, getting a scholarship and making honor role consistently in grammar school. We've never lost everything, had to sell his baseball card collection or had more than the emotional equivalent of a skinned knee in terms of life experience that might have traumatized him.
Unless you count the summer of Lyme disease, that rotted, but it was second grade. It's been a while. I think he's over it.
So the topics: The first time I tasted Alchohol, The first time I defied Authority, The First Time He Got in a Fight, the First Day of School, had a sing song element to them that made my son sound like Polly-Anna.
His great conflict to date? Refusing to eat refried beans served by his parents. This was his great suffering.
First day of School? Preschool memory of meeting the person who would become his best friend.
First taste of Alchohol --he made it up, since the teacher said "Receiving the Eucharist didn't count." I said, "Didn't count for what?"
Trying to pull something of depth out of a surface driven life that is essentially at this point unscathed and unscarred, we focused on his blessings. But I pointed out that if his premise was that only through suffering could one come to understand the true nature of the world, I should serve him beans daily.
He said I was full of beans.
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