01/31/12
Well folks, It’s that time of year again. Swimsuit season. At least in my house it is. That’s right, I joined the Y. I have swimsuits and towels hanging in front of the wood stove and gym bags lying in the middle of the foyer.
My day typically starts at 6:30 am, and I drop into bed around 11 pm. If I’m lucky, the TV will be off. With my busy schedule, I must be insane to add one more thing to the list. I’d say it cuts into my writing time, but frankly that’s not true. I don’t write after I get home from work. I’m too tired.
So why am I now schlepping to the gym? Because my boys. They need to get ready for lacrosse season. They need to build stamina. They need to work out. They need to get stronger, more powerful. Faster. Notice, none of those are my reasons for joining the gym. I’m there because I’m the driver and my youngest has to have an adult accompany him.
The first evening I walked onto the basketball court to shoot hoops with my kids and jammed my finger. Yes, I’m a dweeb. I can’t bounce a ball and I can’t do a lay out–not that I care.
The next night I tried a reclining bike. I thought, okay, that’s my speed. Fifteen minutes later, I dragged my wobbly butt off that sick and twisted piece of metal, vowing never to return.
I like the dance studio when there aren’t any classes going on. I can drag out a mat and take a nap. My boys found me there after the bike incident. I told them I was meditating.
My favorite part is the pool. I learned how to swim correctly in college and lost 36 pounds in six weeks. I swam four days a week and ate like a hound in a McDonald’s Dumpster.
I’m trying to relearn the proper breathing technique for the freestyle, but I’m so out of shape, I only lasted half a lap before I had to turn over. I’m much better on my back.
I think of this sojourn into the workout world kind of like polishing a book. Cutting the fat. Edit ruthlessly. Make every word count. It takes time. It doesn’t happen overnight. It starts with one sentence, then a paragraph, a scene, a chapter. But I’ll get there. With a little luck, hard work and perseverance, Me and my book just might be in shape by Nationals.
That’s my goal and I’m sticking to it. Even if it kills me.
12/20/11
Twas last night that it happened…
Twas last night that it happened, a parents worst dread.
My child looked up with a frown and then said.
“Is he really real? The older kids say that he’s not.”
My eldest and I stopped, the jig was up. We’d been caught.
He met my eyes firm, determined and stern,
but his chin had a wobble that made my heart yearn.
I glanced at my eldest, a gleam in his eye,
Whatever I said, he’d swear it was the truth, not a lie.
Oh, the dilemma, the agony, would it all end on this night?
I wasn’t ready to tell, but I knew what was right.
I sat down on the stool, my nerves gone to jelly.
“I am Santa,” I whispered, well at least in my belly.
His little face crestfallen, as he digested my words,
Eyes glistening with tears, denying what he’d just heard.
His stance ready for flight, I pulled him up tight.
“Then it’s true, I’m an idiot, a nerd, and a kite.”
His brother he knelt, a firm hand on his shoulder.
“No, you are wrong, It’s just part of getting older.
I still believe, in my heart, in my head. I will never forget.
Santa is real. Look around you, there is nothing to fret.
The presents, the cookies, the carols and tree,
The wrappings and trappings, the holiday glee.
They are all part of Christmas, but there is so much more.
It’s the joy, and the laughter, and love at its core.”
I stared as I listened, my chest filled with pride.
My eldest, he got it, the true meaning confide.
“Now you know the secret, It’s giving of one’s self.
It’s spreading good tidings, and now, you’re an elf.”
I laughed as I hugged my boys to my nape.
No more late nights with the scissors and paper, and tape.
My little one smiled, the sparkle returned.
With a curve of his lip he said, “Now it’s my turn.”
Merry Christmas
When did you find out?
10/25/11
Scary Movies. A love/ hate relationship.
Who hates scary movies? Raise your hands. My hand is waving like a flag. Scary movies are at the top of my do not want to do list. Right beneath playing video games. Video games make me ill. I get nauseous. Really.
Unless of course scary movies are the good kind of scary movies.
You know, the kind with plots. The kind that actually have a story line other than, how many teenagers can we kill in one-hundred and ten minutes. I’m not much of a movie go’er so I only know a few scary movies. Dracula—all of them, Frankenstein, Young Frankenstein, (Not a scary movie but super-duper funny so I thought I’d throw it in.) I also stumbled upon the Underworld series and that was pretty good. You know Vampires versus Lykens. Oh and, Van Helsingr—again Vampire-esque. I think I have a theme going.
When I was a teen, Carrie, The Exorcist, and Poltergeist, scared the crap out of me and I loved it. But then I saw Friday the Thirteenth—the first. (What are they on now, twenty-two? How many of the same movie can we make here?) Watching that movie was the very beginning of a very quick end for me.
Now a days, I will only watch scary movies with my Favorite Cousin (FC). There are two things I will DO only with FC. Ride on the back of a motorcycle, and watch scary movies. He lives on the other side of the US, so it’s not often, but when we get together, the hours between 8 PM and 4 AM are spoken for. Lights out, DVD in, and it’s time to scare Deborah into next week.
One time I got to pick the movies. I picked two movies starring Johnny Depp. The first, From Hell, was about Jack the Ripper. Awesome. The second, Sweeney Todd. I was mortified when he started singing. I knew it was originally a musical. But I figured that since it had been adapted for film, no music. Opps. I looked over at my FC and he gave me that look. What the F did you choose? After a terrible ribbing—one that left my sides sore for days—I promised it was gory and had a plot. We both loved it.
I can’t wait to get back to San Diego.
What are your favorite scary movies? And why do you love or hate them?
09/27/11
Taking the high road and the delicate balance of insanity.
Sometimes I can’t decide if God is angry at me, testing me, or if he just looks down at me, decides to be contrary and thinks, let’s mess with Deborah today. If you read my last post, Writing Through the Storm, you know I dealt with Hurricane Irene and pneumonia.
Then there was LEE.
09/6/11
It’s been quite a week here on the farm. Irene swept through and left us without power for eight days. No power equals No running water. Anyone who has a well knows you need power to run the pump. My two oldest boys deserted me preferring to stay with friends who were lucky enough to have electricity.
05/31/11
Sex and the Eleventh Hour Writer’s Block
What do you do when you are facing a deadline and there is nothing but a blank screen?
I have three more pages to finish polishing in order to send out a partial. I’m stuck. My problem—it’s a love scene. Not just a love scene, it’s my hero and heroine’s first. Plus, it’s a major turning point. It has to be better than good. It has to be great.
Normally I don’t have a problem putting words on the screen, but for some reason, it’s not happening.
I’ve written, erased, re-written, deleted. I’ve even gone out and sat in my car for awhile. I usually get great ideas while driving. Apparently this technique doesn’t work unless the car is in gear.
I’ve picked up old books and cruised through pages, hoping for a spark or two. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. You’d be surprised how many love scenes are mechanical, graphic and not at all emotionally fulfilling. Are they hot? Yep—but that’s not enough. I need earth shattering.
The scene is there but it needs visceral and internalizations from both the H and H. What I am trying not to do is the obvious. I want it to be fresh writing.
Although research is fun, Hubby is a man of action—not words, so he’s not much help in the writing department. I’d love some pointers on how to write love scenes. Any suggestions out there? Any classes? Any workshops?
Support groups?
Any other scenes you have problems conquering? What is your writer’s block nemesis? Chapter openings, chapter closings, hooks, dialogue runs? Conflict? Tension?
05/17/11
I have a money jar that I’ve been squirreling money away in for RWA Nationals. But every time I get a decent amount in it, something breaks or some kid needs new shoes or sports equipment or the IRS wants more money. We’ve all been there at some point.
Last month my jeep broke down. My husband complained for two years that I needed a new car so I finally gave in. Just so we are on the same page, I HATE car shopping. It’s on the same par with clothes shopping with my teenage son, and dealing with the IRS. It makes me cranky.
A new car payment means more money allocated out the door every month/less for extra expenditures.
I looked at cars for two days, settled on one, and then decided I didn’t like it and took it back two days later. I did finally find one that I am happy with and gets great gas mileage–which is a plus, but now I have a monthly payment—which also makes me cranky. You see, my jeep was paid off.
I liked not having a car payment.
I’d rather put out $700 a year to keep my piece of crap jeep running than pay $300+ a month in car payments. I have better things to spend my hard earned dollars on than an over-priced ride. RWA retreats, Nationals, workshops, paper…
Back to the jeep. After I purchased my new (Used car), my husband decided to fix the jeep. Turns out, it needed a new radiator. He went to the junk yard pulled one for under $100 and switched it out. My jeep now runs great, I have a new-to-me car, and three cars to insure.
So the way I see it, a new radiator cost me $18,100. You’d think I was in the government.
At this point, if anyone tries to give me crap about going to Nationals this year, I’m telling them that I have my priorities straight and they can get a second job.
03/22/11
This month I am taking an online writing course: Margie Lawson’s Empowering Character’s Emotions. It is fabulous. I have learned a great deal about writing and how to turn my WIP into power-house read.
My good friend, Robin Kaye, ordered me to take this class after I used the word look/ed seven times in a scene. She said it would really help me [look] at my WIP in a completely new way. It was one of the best pieces of advice; any writer can give to another.
I wasn’t thrilled with the idea at first. I have too many pots on the stove as it is, but the way Robin [looked] at me, I wasn’t going to argue. I bit the bullet, [Cliché Alert] and plopped down an underwhelming $30—that’s right, It is affordable! Skip the bi-weekly Venti Caramel Macchiato with extra whip, four Splenda, and enough caramel to drown an apple, and you too can take your WIP from good to Great. Not to mention knocking off at least 1600 calories a cup.
I signed up the day before class started and can’t thank Robin or Margie enough. The lectures are phenomenal, the assignments are harder than pulling marbles out of a five-year-olds nose, and her system for breaking down a scene makes me wish I were color blind. BUT IT’S ALL WORTH IT!
Here is an example of my work
Before: Sophia’s jaw dropped.
After: He saw it—that millisecond between not understanding and total comprehension.
Before: She looked from one to the other and made a decision.
After: Sophia studied them, scalpel poised, as if they were frogs pinned to the dissecting board.
Before: Xavier frowned.
After: Xavier’s easy smile tightened like an avocado facial that had been left on too long.
…and that’s just Day 1.
Margie could charge three times as much with half the content and it would still be worth it. I plan to take her other courses as well. Here’s Margie’s web site: www.margielawson.com if you want to take a gander about.
It can be the difference between just scaring the cat and blowing it up.
Have you taken any online writing classes? Were they helpful? Would you do it again?
02/22/11
Contests, Judges, and Critiques, Oi Vey!
Every time I get an email about a writing contest, I always check out who the final judges are in my category—I don’t care about the other ones are, they won’t be judging me. I check the requirements, and then think about the cost/value/time ratio. The cost is not usually significant. I am interested in the value.
Everyone says you should enter a contest for feedback. But have you ever judged a contest?
12/28/10
Every year I think about a new year’s resolution but I never make one. I’m generally a realist and my follow through typically sucks. However, this year I just might make one—or several.
Here is a sampling of ideas.
- Write consistently. Get a wall calendar and make X’s through every day you write. Try to keep the X’s going in a long chain without breaking it. You don’t have to write a certain word count. It can be 100 words, or whatever you have in you. Just do it.
- Exercise consistently. It’s a proven fact that exercise fuels the mind. It makes you more alert. If you don’t exercise at all. Start with a sign on your fridge. Before you open it, you have to do five jumping jacks or stretch. Make a list of exercises that you CAN do. Then make it a point to check off each exercise throughout the day. I’m not into sweat, but I can bend over and attempt to touch my toes. My point is to start to limber up. It’s hard to get into an exercise routine if after the first day or two you can’t move at all. Work on loosening up and limbering up for the first month and then make it more challenging. I’m not into doing someone else workout routine. I make up my own.
- Eat healthy consistently. Make a list of what you normally like to eat. Then scratch off the top three worst foods and don’t eat them for a month. Instead, substitute that bad food with something healthy. If you eat a donut everyday for breakfast, substitute it for a large apple. I cut mine up. It takes less than 30 seconds. Go back to your list the next month, scratch something else off, and repeat.
I think being consistent is the key.
What ideas would you like to share?
