11.26.13

Thanksgiving week. A time for gratitude attitude on steroids.

I'm feeling especially blessed today. We've already had some snow, which makes me incredibly happy. My parents came up at the beginning of the month and we had an early Thanksgiving, which was so lovely, so fun. I have two new babies, who are giving me more joy than I can handle. I have brilliant, beautiful and courageous friends, and a husband I completely adore. We are all healthy and happy, pursuing our dreams, and just so damn lucky to be who we are, when we are.

I had a dentist appointment today, and the girls had to go to the vet to get their shots (They did so good! My brave little bunnies) so all I had a chance to do was workout, and edit a bit, and think, and rework. There's going to be more snow tonight - sticking snow - so I've made a fire, and we're having a nice chicken pot pie, and tomorrow, I will sit down with my tea and get some words down. Then Thursday is food with the family, so another day off,  then I'm working all weekend. I'm starting to get into deadline mode on this book - I wanted a draft done by Christmas, though I don't think that will happen. But I can try. I can try.

And for this gift, I am so incredibly grateful. 

What are you grateful for?

Sweet dreams!

11.25.13

Blew up the book this morning. This sounds terrible, I know, but what it really means is: I sat down to work, looked at the chapter I was writing, realized I had made a mistake, early on. That I wasn't happy with the flow, the pace, or the plot, so I decided to shake things up a bit. I moved two chapters up so they're near the beginning, combined two action scenes into one, and tomorrow, I'll go through from the beginning and start revising to make it all make sense. THEN I'll be able to start moving forward again. 

I hate having to do this. It seems to happen more often with my really intense action thrillers than it does with the slow burn suspense, but this isn't the first time I've been forced to throw a bomb in. The story demands what it demands. I am simply its caretaker. I do what it requires so it can sustain and grow.

Also had a meeting downtown with some fellow writers about a project we're thinking about. We went to lunch after - and lo and behold - SNOW! We joked that God was throwing confetti on our idea. But watching the fat flakes parade down from the sky, I was in heaven, and still am. You can take the girl out of Colorado, but you can't take the Colorado out of the girl.

Wish me luck for better words and flow tomorrow. And more snow!

Sweet dreams!

11.22.13

A measly 620 today. Just as I got my feet under me, I had to skedaddle to an appointment, and some grocery shopping. I've been out of apples all week, and feel all sorts of pale and squashy as a result. I know, I know, how hard is it to run to the store? It's only I like a certain kind of apples, from Trader Joe's, and it's a thirty minute drive to get them. I'm working this weekend, though, so I can hopefully make up some time.

There was a Somebody at Trader Joe's tonight. Skulking about, watching everyone watch him, a rocker of some sort, painfully thin and pale and jet black hair and sunglasses. All I could think was wow, that's a lot of effort to put in to hold forth at Trader Joe's. Hopefully he was dolled up for a show tonight and it wasn't for the organic masses. And I said a small prayer of thanks that my showmanship must be limited to the page, because it would be so exhausting to have to be Somebody all the time, even whilst grocery shopping.

Trader Joe's is one of my favorite people watching spots in Nashville. It attracts a massive cross-section of Nashvillians. I couldn't help but wonder what Taylor would make of it - TJs being a post-Taylor phenomenon. So yes, there I was, plotting the murder of a pale, aging rocker amongst the apples. I do so love being a crime fiction writer.

Sweet dream and happy weekend to you. 

11.21.13

Speaking of passion... there's a complementary action called being in the groove, when you let the words flow and don't check them, just let the story evolve from your fingers, with no idea of where you're headed, and where you may end up. I love days like this, when something happens you don't expect, and suddenly you're racing along, breath tight in your chest, fingers flying on the keys, and the story is unfurling before you. 

It might last five minutes, or five hours, or five days, but when it happens, it is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I had one of those moments today. 2400 words total, which is good, but the last 1000 of them were in the last fifteen minutes of my writing day. It was an action scene, which are always fun to write, and something so unexpected happened it took MY breath away. Who knows if this will make the final book, but for the moment, I close my laptop with a feeling of exultation, my adrenaline still running high, my heartbeat racing. What will tomorrow bring?

Only the shadow knows...

Sweet dreams!

11.20.13

I want to talk about something a little touchy today. It's an issue I come across quite a bit, and an important one to keep in the back of you mind when you sit down to face the page.

I'm talking about writing with passion versus writing with precision.

There is more to writing well than being able to lay down the most perfectly constructed sentence in the world. Of course you must write well. That's not even up for debate. You must know the rules, understand grammar, punctuation, homonyms and possessives. You have to be literate, and glamorous in your prose.

But if you write without passion, without allowing your heart and soul into your words, your work will lay dully on the page. No sparkle. No excitement. And no connection to your reader.

Writing is hard. It's frightening at times, especially when you're doing work that's personal. Even fiction, especially fiction, in which you take a grain of sand from a situation or a memory and blow it up into a story. Fear is the number one reason you aren't writing with passion. Fear of being judged. Fear of someone seeing themselves in your work. Fear of (you fill in the blank.)

Fear. It is what holds us back, and what drives us forward.

Don't be afraid. Let it all hang out. Write with reckless abandon. Give your reader something to think about, something to chew on after they close the covers. Don't worry about offending people - and don't worry about upsetting them, either. And think of this when you put pen to page:

“You own everything that happend to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better." - Anne Lamott

This is one of the reasons I encourage writers to try NaNoWriMo. To give yourself permission to write, fast, unedited, uncriticized. To allow yourself to be unstoppable.

I'm still working, at 2200 right now. A good day, in which I've vowed to be fearless. Back to it.

Sweet Dreams!