A good writer is an avid reader by necessity. For emerging writers, models demonstrate the conventions of the particular form as well as appropriate tone, organization, sentence structure, and vocabulary. Models benefit more seasoned writers as well. Since I began writing fiction, I read fiction differently. I notice character development, point of view, the placement of chapter breaks, and I learn from them.
Recently, I've read several good books in my two preferred genres, paranormal romance and urban fantasy. Not only were these books good reads, but they drove home the problem with my abandoned work in progress. I tried to write an urban fantasy sequel to a paranormal romance. The result is a major plot cohesion problem.
I read JR Ward's Covet and Lara Adrian's Ashes of Midnight, both paranormal romances. Last night, I finished Keri Arthur's Bound to Shadows, an urban fantasy. All three books are a lot of fun, (I especially loved JR Ward's book. She might be my new favorite author.) and all three are part of ongoing series. The major difference is that the two paranormal romances focus on new couples within the larger series. They face obstacles, solve mysteries, and find their happily ever after. The urban fantasy centers around the same female heroine in all the books in the series. There is romance and mystery, but no happily ever after. In fact, urban fantasy tends to throw a major monkey wrench into the romantic works to keep the heroine edgy and never-quite-happy.
Sapphire Sins (officially confirmed in RWA's Golden Heart Contest) is a paranormal romance...obstacles, mystery, happily ever after. The sequel I've fought with for over a year takes the same hero and heroine and challenges their happily ever after. It felt like a good plan when I started. I knew these characters. I liked them. I wanted to keep hanging out with them. The problem with challenging happily ever after is that once it's lost, it's hard to find your way back. Sometimes, there isn't a way back. Urban fantasy is okay with that. Heroines can be broken at the end of a book as long as the bad guy is defeated. As much as I enjoy reading it, I'm not ready to write it. I never meant to break my heroine, but I wrote myself into a corner. To get out of it, I betrayed my characters.
I've been lost in the trees. I knew I had a cohesion problem, but I haven't been able to get to the bottom of it. My reading these last few weeks has helped me see the forest. I can actually pinpoint the exact place in the text I went wrong. Now I have roughly 90,000 words I don't know what to do with. Being the queen of avoidance, I've set those words aside and started writing new ones. New characters, new world, new plot...a romance. As much as I love the dark, I need the promise of the light at the end.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A Facebook Rant
Social Networking can be a beautiful thing. Facebook, Twitter, blogging are all great ways to meet like-minded folks and stay in touch with long distance friends and family. I check in with Facebook and Twitter every day. I roll through all the blogs I follow at least every other day or so depending on how hectic things are.
I've chosen to break my social networks into categories. My friends on Facebook are people I actually know in real life. Now granted, I haven't seen some of my Facebook friends in over 20 years, but we really did know each other once upon a time. The people I follow on Twitter are mostly book people. I follow agents, editors, authors, book reviewers, book publicists, etc. (Okay...and Ellen Degeneres and Ryan Secrest, I admit it.) Reading Twitter keeps me up to date on what's going on in that world. I've discovered the most interesting tidbits from my Twitter people.
Here's the thing though. Some folks use their social networks for purposes that don't mesh with my own, and I'm in a quandary as to what to do about it. Blocking Twitter followers is no big thing. I don't know those people, and they don't know me. If they become tiresome, I just stop following. Facebook is another matter. Linda's daughter, Mallory, informed us that blocking a Facebook friend is just not done. Really...it is apparently the worst kind of social networking faux pas.
But what if they are really pissing me off?? Am I obligated to keep listening to them? Mallory tells me to hide them from my news feed so I won't see their status updates. Okay...but that seems dishonest to me.
While the occasional political or religious status update on Facebook is fine, I'm not interested in having our online friendship serve as a platform for your political or religious point of view. Would you spew the vitriolic political rhetoric to me in person that you're forcing me to read online? I think not because I KNOW you in person. I avoid political hate-mongers in all other forms of media. I surely don't want to read it on Facebook. Nor do I want to read hellfire and damnation scripture references every day. I'm good spiritually, so thanks but no thanks.
Facebook is for sharing fun bits of your day...or the struggles of your day because maybe I can help. Tell me the funny thing your kid did or that great restaurant you tried. Tell a joke...wish me luck...tell me about a good book. I like seeing your quiz results even when I think you must have lied to get that result. :) I can even live with your mafia wars and farmville updates even though I will continue to ignore your invitations to whack Vinny or raise chickens.
Comments about politics and religion should be made online in the same way you would make them in person. And if you throw them in my face online, I will treat you the same way I would in person. I will leave. I'm probably going to offend some folks, but if I do they would be the same folks who are offending me on a regular basis.
If you really have a point of view you are dying to express, create a blog. You will probably find like-minded people, and I can say, "Why don't you just blog about it."
I've chosen to break my social networks into categories. My friends on Facebook are people I actually know in real life. Now granted, I haven't seen some of my Facebook friends in over 20 years, but we really did know each other once upon a time. The people I follow on Twitter are mostly book people. I follow agents, editors, authors, book reviewers, book publicists, etc. (Okay...and Ellen Degeneres and Ryan Secrest, I admit it.) Reading Twitter keeps me up to date on what's going on in that world. I've discovered the most interesting tidbits from my Twitter people.
Here's the thing though. Some folks use their social networks for purposes that don't mesh with my own, and I'm in a quandary as to what to do about it. Blocking Twitter followers is no big thing. I don't know those people, and they don't know me. If they become tiresome, I just stop following. Facebook is another matter. Linda's daughter, Mallory, informed us that blocking a Facebook friend is just not done. Really...it is apparently the worst kind of social networking faux pas.
But what if they are really pissing me off?? Am I obligated to keep listening to them? Mallory tells me to hide them from my news feed so I won't see their status updates. Okay...but that seems dishonest to me.
While the occasional political or religious status update on Facebook is fine, I'm not interested in having our online friendship serve as a platform for your political or religious point of view. Would you spew the vitriolic political rhetoric to me in person that you're forcing me to read online? I think not because I KNOW you in person. I avoid political hate-mongers in all other forms of media. I surely don't want to read it on Facebook. Nor do I want to read hellfire and damnation scripture references every day. I'm good spiritually, so thanks but no thanks.
Facebook is for sharing fun bits of your day...or the struggles of your day because maybe I can help. Tell me the funny thing your kid did or that great restaurant you tried. Tell a joke...wish me luck...tell me about a good book. I like seeing your quiz results even when I think you must have lied to get that result. :) I can even live with your mafia wars and farmville updates even though I will continue to ignore your invitations to whack Vinny or raise chickens.
Comments about politics and religion should be made online in the same way you would make them in person. And if you throw them in my face online, I will treat you the same way I would in person. I will leave. I'm probably going to offend some folks, but if I do they would be the same folks who are offending me on a regular basis.
If you really have a point of view you are dying to express, create a blog. You will probably find like-minded people, and I can say, "Why don't you just blog about it."
Sunday, November 1, 2009
This is It!
I saw Michael Jackson's This is It today. Wow. Forget any opinion you have about Michael Jackson, the man. This movie is all about Michael Jackson, the artist, and he was an incredible artist.
The creative process is fascinating to me. My favorite blogs are writers' blogs where they talk about process. I love Top Chef and Project Runway for the same reason. You see creative people thinking out loud. This is It is a feast for anyone interested in the creative process. You get a behind the scenes look at everything from the dancers' auditions, to musical rehearsals, to the making of the short films that accompany every song in the show.
Michael surrounded himself with amazing talent, and he was generous in showcasing it. He let his dancers shine. He reveled in his musicians ability to jam. He let one of his back-up singers have the spotlight when they sang "I Just Can't Stop Loving You." And it was obvious the dancers, singers, and musicians wanted to live up to Michael's high standards.
The dancers all had stars in their eyes. Several of them broke down in tears in interviews between rehearsals. This break was career-making for them. You couldn't help but feel their joy or smile at the "holy crap, I'm dancing with Michael Jackson" expression on their faces.
The musicians had nothing but respect for Michael. One grizzled old guitar player said, "So many pop artists don't know music. Michael knows music, and no one understands his music like he does. We're creating genius stuff here." Watching Michael work, you believe it.
My favorite thing about the movie was watching Michael turn every song into a story and weave a narrative between the songs. He understood pacing. He knew the moments between the beats were as important as the beats themselves. He stopped the whole production when he felt the opening to "Smooth Criminal" was moving too fast. "We have to let it simmer," he said. Later in the show, he insisted silence would be more dramatic than than the rumbling noise the director wanted to use. He was right.
As much as I loved the movie, it left me a little sad. Michael came alive when he performed. Early on, you could see the joy in his face when he sang and danced. The music lived in him. In the later footage, Michael was tired, almost haggard. In a full dress rehearsal for "Thriller," he needed a crew member's help to keep his footing on the hydraulic stage. You never quite forget you are watching him put together a show that will never be fully realized.
I recommend the movie to anyone who appreciates the creative process. Even more, I recommend the movie to anyone who loves Michael's music. The soundtrack to this movie is the soundtrack of my high school and college years. I could have closed my eyes and remembered specific events in my life as I listened. Except I couldn't close my eyes.
It would have been a great show.
The creative process is fascinating to me. My favorite blogs are writers' blogs where they talk about process. I love Top Chef and Project Runway for the same reason. You see creative people thinking out loud. This is It is a feast for anyone interested in the creative process. You get a behind the scenes look at everything from the dancers' auditions, to musical rehearsals, to the making of the short films that accompany every song in the show.
Michael surrounded himself with amazing talent, and he was generous in showcasing it. He let his dancers shine. He reveled in his musicians ability to jam. He let one of his back-up singers have the spotlight when they sang "I Just Can't Stop Loving You." And it was obvious the dancers, singers, and musicians wanted to live up to Michael's high standards.
The dancers all had stars in their eyes. Several of them broke down in tears in interviews between rehearsals. This break was career-making for them. You couldn't help but feel their joy or smile at the "holy crap, I'm dancing with Michael Jackson" expression on their faces.
The musicians had nothing but respect for Michael. One grizzled old guitar player said, "So many pop artists don't know music. Michael knows music, and no one understands his music like he does. We're creating genius stuff here." Watching Michael work, you believe it.
My favorite thing about the movie was watching Michael turn every song into a story and weave a narrative between the songs. He understood pacing. He knew the moments between the beats were as important as the beats themselves. He stopped the whole production when he felt the opening to "Smooth Criminal" was moving too fast. "We have to let it simmer," he said. Later in the show, he insisted silence would be more dramatic than than the rumbling noise the director wanted to use. He was right.
As much as I loved the movie, it left me a little sad. Michael came alive when he performed. Early on, you could see the joy in his face when he sang and danced. The music lived in him. In the later footage, Michael was tired, almost haggard. In a full dress rehearsal for "Thriller," he needed a crew member's help to keep his footing on the hydraulic stage. You never quite forget you are watching him put together a show that will never be fully realized.
I recommend the movie to anyone who appreciates the creative process. Even more, I recommend the movie to anyone who loves Michael's music. The soundtrack to this movie is the soundtrack of my high school and college years. I could have closed my eyes and remembered specific events in my life as I listened. Except I couldn't close my eyes.
It would have been a great show.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Why Don't You Blog About it?
One of the most difficult things to capture with the written word is tone. How many times have you written an email or a facebook/twitter status update only to have it completely misconstrued by your intended audience?
How did you read the title of today's blog post? Did you perceive it as an honest question, a helpful suggestion? If you did, you would be wrong. Allow me to provide context.
Once again, my principal, in his infinite wisdom, has pitted the faculty and staff of our school against one another in a year-long team competition. I did, in fact, blog about this during the last school year. You can read those entries here and here. I am self-aware enough to know I'm a very competitive person. I'm a sore loser...I've admitted it before and I'll say it again. HOWEVER...I never let my competitiveness devolve into personal attacks.
Twice....TWICE...in the most recent competitions, my colleagues have thrown the title question of this post in my face. The first time, I was merely clarifying the rules of the karaoke contest before we began. A lone derisive voice from across the room says, "Why don't you just blog about it?" Uproarious laughter. So Will, here ya go. I'm blogging about it.
Today, we had a homeroom fight song contest. Two members of one of the teams proceeded to announce the winners, putting themselves in first place. I piped up, "Hey! That's a conflict of interest!" Their response? "Why don't you blog about it Owens?" So Robin...Kathy P...here ya go. I'm blogging.
Now, I realize they were teasing me because I've blogged about these team things before, but come on guys. The only person I've given a hard time to was myself. Okay...and Linda, but at the time she was on my team, and we have a relationship where I can do that.
My blog has elicited varying responses from my friends and colleagues. Most are entertained and mention something they liked or had a thought about. A few are mystified as to why I'm doing it. They don't see the point.
I blog because I am a writer, and I want to be read. Until I get that book contract, this is my forum. So beware of asking me "Why don't you just blog about it?" in that oh-so-snide voice. Because I probably will.
How did you read the title of today's blog post? Did you perceive it as an honest question, a helpful suggestion? If you did, you would be wrong. Allow me to provide context.
Once again, my principal, in his infinite wisdom, has pitted the faculty and staff of our school against one another in a year-long team competition. I did, in fact, blog about this during the last school year. You can read those entries here and here. I am self-aware enough to know I'm a very competitive person. I'm a sore loser...I've admitted it before and I'll say it again. HOWEVER...I never let my competitiveness devolve into personal attacks.
Twice....TWICE...in the most recent competitions, my colleagues have thrown the title question of this post in my face. The first time, I was merely clarifying the rules of the karaoke contest before we began. A lone derisive voice from across the room says, "Why don't you just blog about it?" Uproarious laughter. So Will, here ya go. I'm blogging about it.
Today, we had a homeroom fight song contest. Two members of one of the teams proceeded to announce the winners, putting themselves in first place. I piped up, "Hey! That's a conflict of interest!" Their response? "Why don't you blog about it Owens?" So Robin...Kathy P...here ya go. I'm blogging.
Now, I realize they were teasing me because I've blogged about these team things before, but come on guys. The only person I've given a hard time to was myself. Okay...and Linda, but at the time she was on my team, and we have a relationship where I can do that.
My blog has elicited varying responses from my friends and colleagues. Most are entertained and mention something they liked or had a thought about. A few are mystified as to why I'm doing it. They don't see the point.
I blog because I am a writer, and I want to be read. Until I get that book contract, this is my forum. So beware of asking me "Why don't you just blog about it?" in that oh-so-snide voice. Because I probably will.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Time Keeps on Ticking into the Future
Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been 11 days since my last blog entry. Only five total posts this month. I've missed my goal of 10 posts per month by 50%. One might think I've been totally slacking, laying around eating bon bons, kicking back, watching the leaves change.
Not so much.
I'll avoid the OMG I've been so busy, the laundry list of things I've accomplished and things I haven't because frankly, we're all busy. My life is no more crazy than any of my friends' lives. We all have more on our "to do" list than we have hours to actually do it. Time is a more valuable commodity than money.
Time is on my mind. I celebrated another birthday this past week. I've never been one to bemoan the passing of time, and I'm still not. Every year has been a gift, and I'm grateful. This particular birthday hit at a time when I feel tired and overwhelmed, so I actually spent a day thinking, "Damn, I feel old." Because that sentiment is out of character for me, a step back was in order.
I reminded myself that not only is every year a gift, but every moment, every second of every day is a gift. Those moments are finite. At some point, hopefully in the far future, the clock will tick down to zero. I'm not going to spend my moments whining about being tired and overwhelmed. I'm going to view the curve ball life has chosen to throw at me as an opportunity to swing the bat and meet it head on.
Just typing those words makes me feel better. I've shaken off my blog ennui. I have topics brewing...I shaved 5,000 words off Sapphire Sins and entered it in RWA's Golden Heart contest. I read the new Dan Brown and the new JR Ward, and my students' book talks last week were interesting. So here's to taking a deep breath and getting on with it!
Not so much.
I'll avoid the OMG I've been so busy, the laundry list of things I've accomplished and things I haven't because frankly, we're all busy. My life is no more crazy than any of my friends' lives. We all have more on our "to do" list than we have hours to actually do it. Time is a more valuable commodity than money.
Time is on my mind. I celebrated another birthday this past week. I've never been one to bemoan the passing of time, and I'm still not. Every year has been a gift, and I'm grateful. This particular birthday hit at a time when I feel tired and overwhelmed, so I actually spent a day thinking, "Damn, I feel old." Because that sentiment is out of character for me, a step back was in order.
I reminded myself that not only is every year a gift, but every moment, every second of every day is a gift. Those moments are finite. At some point, hopefully in the far future, the clock will tick down to zero. I'm not going to spend my moments whining about being tired and overwhelmed. I'm going to view the curve ball life has chosen to throw at me as an opportunity to swing the bat and meet it head on.
Just typing those words makes me feel better. I've shaken off my blog ennui. I have topics brewing...I shaved 5,000 words off Sapphire Sins and entered it in RWA's Golden Heart contest. I read the new Dan Brown and the new JR Ward, and my students' book talks last week were interesting. So here's to taking a deep breath and getting on with it!
Friday, October 16, 2009
Word Clouds
I discovered the coolest thing ever on Nathan Bransford's blog. Word Clouds! Wordle.net is the site. You simply paste in a block of text or a website url and voila! You have a word cloud. A block of words in itself is just generally awesome, and you can play with the font, the color, and the layout until you get an aesthetically pleasing cloud, but for my fellow writers out there, the cloud has an added benefit. The cloud is created out of the 150 (a default number which can be changed) most used words in the block of text. The most used words are the biggest words in the cloud.
I've posted two clouds. The first is made up of words from the most recent entries in my blog. The second is from my novel, Sapphire Sins. I pasted all 107,000 words. Can you guess the names of my main characters? I've been working on yet another edit of the book, and I knew I was using the word "look" too often. Could a word be more lackluster and boring? Obviously, I still have some editing to do.
This will be fun to use with my students. They can see the words they've used the most in their writing. I visualize printed word clouds all over my classroom.
Yes, my geek is showing, but come on people...Word Clouds! 'Nuff said.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Mohawks and Mad Grandmas
Let me preface this post by saying I have permission to share the story.
My friend, Linda, is one of the most open-minded people I know. She has an eclectic group of friends, including mountain climbers, Pentecostal preachers, and Broadway actors. (She once had a walk-on role in Rent.) She is just as likely to invite me to a drag queen show as she is to a Band of Brothers marathon on the History Channel. Acceptance of others is at the core of her belief system.
Linda's daughter and grandson live with her. Since Linda's daughter split up with her son's father, they share custody. It's complicated because the father moved back to New Jersey, and she still lives here. Everyone is amicable, and they shuttle the boy back and forth at regular intervals. The other set of grandparents are Jewish, and they want their grandson to learn Hebrew. Linda loved the idea and decided she would learn with him. With the help of boy's father, she set up a chart of basic English to Hebrew words. She's excited to learn, and subsequently, even I know one or two Hebrew words.
All was well. We are the World. Kum-ba-ya and all that.
Then they messed with the baby's hair.
During his last visit to New Jersey, Linda's grandson got a haircut. It wasn't his first haircut. He's two now. No big deal, right? Wrong. For some bizarre reason, the other grandma thought a mohawk would be cute. She didn't ask either of the baby's parents. She just went and did it...a for-real, shaved on both sides, spiked tall in the middle mohawk. On a two year old.
Oh. My. God. Linda had a cow. For a week at school, she ranted about that poor baby's hair. She sent me pictures on email. She laid awake at night fretting about it. When her grandson returned to Kentucky, they discovered his hair was shaved so close on the sides he would be bald if they shaved off the middle. So they've kept it combed down until the sides grow out, but Linda says he looks like baby Hitler with that one strip of hair combed straight forward.
I discovered the limit to my friend's acceptance lies on her grandson's head. She's still teaching the Hebrew words, but she's added one phrase that wasn't previously there.
Allah Akbar.
When she told me this, my eyes got wide and I almost fell out of my chair. "NO! You didn't!"
Linda waved her hand dismissively. "The baby's father and grandpa will think it's hilarious."
"Are you sure?"
"They've both got a great sense of humor."
"Okay..." I was dubious. "What about grandma?"
Linda got an evil glint in her eye I've never seen before. "Oh she won't like it at all."
Don't mess with the grandbaby's hair.
My friend, Linda, is one of the most open-minded people I know. She has an eclectic group of friends, including mountain climbers, Pentecostal preachers, and Broadway actors. (She once had a walk-on role in Rent.) She is just as likely to invite me to a drag queen show as she is to a Band of Brothers marathon on the History Channel. Acceptance of others is at the core of her belief system.
Linda's daughter and grandson live with her. Since Linda's daughter split up with her son's father, they share custody. It's complicated because the father moved back to New Jersey, and she still lives here. Everyone is amicable, and they shuttle the boy back and forth at regular intervals. The other set of grandparents are Jewish, and they want their grandson to learn Hebrew. Linda loved the idea and decided she would learn with him. With the help of boy's father, she set up a chart of basic English to Hebrew words. She's excited to learn, and subsequently, even I know one or two Hebrew words.
All was well. We are the World. Kum-ba-ya and all that.
Then they messed with the baby's hair.
During his last visit to New Jersey, Linda's grandson got a haircut. It wasn't his first haircut. He's two now. No big deal, right? Wrong. For some bizarre reason, the other grandma thought a mohawk would be cute. She didn't ask either of the baby's parents. She just went and did it...a for-real, shaved on both sides, spiked tall in the middle mohawk. On a two year old.
Oh. My. God. Linda had a cow. For a week at school, she ranted about that poor baby's hair. She sent me pictures on email. She laid awake at night fretting about it. When her grandson returned to Kentucky, they discovered his hair was shaved so close on the sides he would be bald if they shaved off the middle. So they've kept it combed down until the sides grow out, but Linda says he looks like baby Hitler with that one strip of hair combed straight forward.
I discovered the limit to my friend's acceptance lies on her grandson's head. She's still teaching the Hebrew words, but she's added one phrase that wasn't previously there.
Allah Akbar.
When she told me this, my eyes got wide and I almost fell out of my chair. "NO! You didn't!"
Linda waved her hand dismissively. "The baby's father and grandpa will think it's hilarious."
"Are you sure?"
"They've both got a great sense of humor."
"Okay..." I was dubious. "What about grandma?"
Linda got an evil glint in her eye I've never seen before. "Oh she won't like it at all."
Don't mess with the grandbaby's hair.
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