11.5.13

The writing process is an interesting beast. While everyone has been powering along in this first week of NaNoWriMo, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and plotting, and a lot of movie watching. Movies are a great way to both refill the well and learn pacing and three act structures. Two divergent thoughts:

Yesterday we saw ENDER'S GAME, based on the eponymous novel by Orson Scott Card. I read ENDER'S GAME this summer on vacation, and absolutely loved it. I thought the movie did a decent job of following the book, though it was the ultimate example of tell, not show. 

As novelists, show, not tell is drummed into our heads from the first day. Telling is lazy, showing is talent. But as always, there's two sides to most writing rules, and showing and telling is one of them. Sometimes, the curtains are blue. They don't need to be described to the N-th degree. Talent is knowing when to tell and when to show.

But in this particular movie, if you didn't already know the story, it was difficult to connect with the main character, Ender Wiggin. In the book, we see him earn the respect of the children he eventually leads. In the movie, we're just told, and not told well, in a variation of the Greek chorus that is disjointed at best.  

Moral of the story: Don't be lazy, but don't overdo it, either. 

The second movie was WHITE HOUSE DOWN. It utilized some of the sheer ridiculousness that makes a good thriller. Part of what we're doing is creating a world and situation that in reality could strain credulity, but in fiction, is plausible, IF handled correctly. But there is one thing that is never, ever plausible -- the bad guys who are deadly accurate with their weapons, use a single head shot to kill fifty people, but manage to spend two hours missing the hero with both submachine guns and mounted machine guns. Come on, people.  

Moral of the story: Don't make your readers hunger to check their email when they're reading your unbelievable action scenes. 

The minions had their first vet appointment today, and have been running around like crazed demons all afternoon. I can't begin to tell you how cute they are.  

Sweet dreams! 

11.4.13

I want to talk briefly about writer's block. I've always rather blithely claimed that I don't think it exists, that it's your story's way of telling you you're going in the wrong direction. And that's true. Absolutely, 100% true.  

Except for when it isn't. 

Writer's block can be more than your story going off the rails. Sometimes, it's your brain's way of saying ENOUGH!  You're working too hard, you're not refilling the well, and damn you, stop with all that infernal typing for five minutes, I need a BREAK!

Recognizing writer's block is a talent. Too many of us hit a wall and throw up our hands, declaring all is lost, wailing and gnashing our teeth. Some of us, though, recognize the symptoms of overwork or storyline miscues, and take a day off. Or a month. Or whatever is right for you.

Listen, we're artists, not machines. We can't program ourselves to spit out X number of words every day no matter what. Life interrupts. Stories go awry. And that's okay. It's how we face these challenges that define our professional lives.

Since we're in NaNoWriMo mode, I just wanted to toss that out there. If you don't make that 1667 words today, don't fret. You'll be fine. The story will tell you what's right. Go read a book. Or take a nap, or a walk, or go to the movies.

Permission, granted. 

Sweet dreams!

11.3.13

It was a day in which we discovered the diversity of almond milk. I've developed a decent case of lactose intolerance, and so have had to remove all dairy (except cheese) from my diet. Normally this isn't an issue; I've even weaned myself off my favorite fat free half and half in my tea. But my parents are coffee drinkers -- amusing in its own way, as I have to dig out the coffee pot and find the frozen coffee ground and filters when they come -- and my dad likes vanilla creamer in his morning joe.

And I forgot to get milk. With so much craziness this week, a lot of things have fallen through the cracks.  But lo, in the fridge, we did find vanilla almond milk. Daddy put it in his coffee and loved it, and bam, the morning was saved. 

Today was also early thanksgiving. The kittenish minions were given a second room to explore, and I cooked all the usuals: turkey, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, sausage cornbread stuffing, pecan and pumpkin pies. Only, of course, again, no milk. Derp.

Guess what else is good with almond milk? Mashed potatoes! I was afraid it would be too sweet, but they were delicious. Who knew?

Work tomorrow, then we're going to see Ender's Game - hurrah! I adored the book, I can't wait to see what they've done with the film. 

Off to eat pie, sweet dreams! 

11.2.13

890 words today. Not a great start to NaNoWriMo, but I have been having a wee bit of kittius interruptus, and my parents have come for a visit. I knew I'd be late to the game this month, I'm just trying to keep the word counts in the 1k range daily so I don't get too far behind. A nice big fat 10k day will catch me up, so I'm not too worried.

I generally write very linearly, moving from scene to scene, chapter to chapter, adding to things in the order they appear in the book. But every once in a while, I get a wild hair and can't wait to set down a future scene. That's where my word count came from today. The second to last chapter, actually. It's kind of nice knowing so early on where I need to end up. Normally that doesn't happen until much, much later.

I thought I brought home kittehs, but I was wrong. They are minions. Homicidal minions, at that. Jordan has already buried her mouse, dug it up, and proceeded to drown it when my back was turned. And she's supposed to be the shy one.

I will buy them more mice tomorrow, as well as a fishing pole with ribbons that I think they will go bonkers for. And try to get words while they dance about. Life, it is good.

11.1.13

The universe works in mysterious ways.  

I got nothing done today - the first day of NaNoWriMo. But I have a darn good excuse.  

It's been a week of strange, dislocated disappointments. When I finally steeled myself to go get a kitten,  I thought I was going to have the same experience as last time, where I saw Jade at the shelter, and bam, that was it. 

This time, we had lukewarm feelings toward a bunch of adorable kittens, from several places and connections, which was bizarre. I mean, you're supposed to click, right? And I didn't. Maybe it was my own fault, the walls I've built around my heart to protect myself from falling in love again. I found several snuggly sweeties, but none I couldn't stop thinking about. And whatever the reason, all of those adoptions fell through.  

But I wasn't heartbroken over any of them. So last night, before I went to bed, I celebrated Samhain in my own way, with a candle, and the memories of those I love, and at the end, I sat with Jade's ashes, and asked her for help. That she could give me a sign, or a zing, or a dream, something that allowed me to know what to do. 

I woke this morning with vigor. We were going to go to the shelter again and this time, really open up. And just as we were leaving, I received an email from the Director of Happy Tales Humane in Franklin, TN. She had a new batch of kittens, just spayed, that were approved for adoption overnight, and there were silver tabbies in the litter. 

I hightailed it down to Franklin, and I am so excited to tell you, I found a kitten. Actually, two. Twins. Two little girl love bunnies, silver and gray and soft and fuzzy and the cute, it burns.   

Jade was one hell of a cat. The fact that it takes two to step into her very large paws doesn't surprise me in the least.  

 And so, I give you our two new adorables, Jameson and Jordan.