pens

Brush Markers and How I Use Them

annabowling 3 Comments

Earlier this morning, a writer friend asked if I could talk about my experience with brush markers. Good thing, because I needed a topic for today’s post. Disclaimer: I still do not technically have a bullet journal, but I have written about what I have as my daily carry, here. I’ve swapped out the handmade journal (I’m keeping it for swatching new pens/inks) for an unlined Moleskine, but otherwise, the system remains the same.  I’m still incredibly new to the world of brush markers, as in it’s only been a week since I ventured into these waters, but I’m already finding them useful.

I’ve been using highlighters in my notebooks for about as long as I’ve been using notebooks, but I don’t always want the traditional highlighter colors. They can be harsh on my eyes, and, sometimes, they don’t fit the mood of the page or notebook I’m using, so I wanted to try an alternative. After a brief spin with colored pencils, I saw many of the contributors to Art Journaling magazine, and figured I’d give them a try.

First up: American Crafts Bible Journaling markers. I am Christian, but I don’t know what Bible Journaling is, besides pretty, from pictures I’ve seen, so can’t speak to that use.  My goal was to find markers I could use to take the place of eye-searing highlighters. Price point was low on these, so good place to stick a toe into the water, right? Well….

American Craft Bible Journaling markers
Daily task pages

 

Book pictured is a Markings journal, with gridded pages. This is for daily tasks, and I am still figuring out the color coding I want to use. Original coding was:

  • Yellow: Problem Solving, aka anything I needed to get out of the way before I could get down to business, or could affect my ability to write that day.
  • Orange: Essentials, aka, anything with a hard deadline for that day. Blog entries, domestic responsibilities, emails to return, online critique sessions, etc.
  • Pink: Chasing Prince Charming related tasks; writing/editing, Skype sessions with Melva, anything that gets this book closer to a complete second draft.
  • Blue: Her Last First Kiss related tasks: writing, editing, research, again, anything that gets this book closer to a completed second draft.

I waffled off and on with using green for Heroes and Heartbreakers things, and purple for well filling/self care, but they morphed into a more general “notes” section, which I don’t always use, so that may still change. In this iteration, peach is for problem solving, green for essentials, then pink and blue remain the same. These markers are very subtle, and might work better for their original purpose; I haven’t tried them that way. There is also a fine tip on these pens, as well as a brush tip, but I haven’t had use for them.

Tombow Dual Brush Markers were next, bought from open stock at a local art store. These are the ones I have heard recommended the most, and there are a lot of colors, both in open stock and prepackaged. I fell in love with the pink and the blue when I swatched them in my daily carry book, and then grabbed the tan and green to complement those.

Tombow Brush Markers
Tombow Brush Marker Swatches

 

The meteor-shaped black blob is a leftover from me re-inking a fountain pen. I think it adds character. These are also double-tipped markers, brush tip on one end, fine tip on the other. I don’t get a lot of use out of the fine tipped end on the lighter colors, but maybe I haven’t found the right use for them yet. Nice to have, anyway. I like the pink and the blue for my daily task book, and the tan is a nice alternative to yellow, though I may want to try a lighter green next time around. Still pretty, and the colors all have similar value, so it feels harmonious, which actually does matter for me. Will definitely try other colors, maybe in a prepackaged assortment next time. These can be a bit pricier, but, I think, worth the investment, and chain craft stores often run coupons that can make for a very nice discount.

Faber-Castell Pitt Artist Pens also have an excellent reputation.  I have one (1) black Pitt pen, for art journaling, after hearing a lot of good things about it (all true) so when I wanted to branch out into brush markers, these were a natural. I might have picked a different assortment than the basics, but the store that had the fifty percent off coupon had only basic and gray packs (I will probably get the gray pack later, because I am me.)

Pitt Artist Pens Basic
Pitt Artist Pens Basic Swatches

I love the packaging on these, and the feel of the pens in my hand. I can come closer with these to my original color coding system (I love color coding; artist’s kid, so that started at a very early age) but still not sure on the actual colors I want to use for my daily task pages. This may require more research in open stock. I do like that these pens are only brush tip, as I don’t use the fine tip on the other markers, and the wallet they come in makes for a durable carrying case. I have not used them in my task book yet, but took them out for a spin as art markers yesterday, and found them very easy to use.

Biggest difference I have found between using brush markers and highlighters, besides the degree of eye-searingness, is that I need to put down the brush marker color first, and then write on top of it, and that after it dries. That takes about ten to fifteen seconds, which isn’t all that long, so I like to do all the color first, and then list tasks.  The markers also let me doodle borders on the pages, instead of using washi tape. Using tape borders in the same place on succeeding pages means that builds up bulk on those places only, which results in sunken writing surfaces. Sunken writing surfaces are very seldom efficient, so brush markers help keep the page bulk uniform. Plain, undecorated pages make me antsy, but if I can put down even a streak of color, then that anchors my brain.

All swatches above are done on ivory paper, but I can swatch any or all of the markers on white paper, upon request. Again, I am very new to using brush markers, so tips (pun unintended, but it works) from more experienced users are welcome. Those who use brush markers in your planning, what brands/colors do you like?

TheWriterIsOut

 

 

 

Processing

annabowling Leave a comment

 Use the process.
-Lin-Manuel Miranda

Today is Memorial Day. It’s also May 29th, the birthday of Erma Pesci Carrasco, and Princess Marlena of Carousel. That would be my mom, and one of the two German Shepherds my dad and I got the year I started college. Marlena decided pretty early on that she wanted to be my dog, even though it was my dad’s name on the official paperwork. The other dog, CJ, who came a few months later, while I was in school, followed her lead. I have no idea how that worked, other than that CJ absolutely adored Marlena, and if I was Marlena’s choice, well, then, that settled the matter. No further questions needed; it merely was.

I’ve been thinking about that “merely was” part lately, and not specifically about the dogs, though they were the illustration that came most readily to mind. They could both jump higher than the six foot fence of their enclosure, but both chose not to; they were fine where they were. The UPS guy did not understand this last part. To this day, I have a vivid memory of the blast of the delivery van horn that summoned me from the shower. As soon as I stuck my towel-turbaned head out of the guest room window, the driver shouted, “UPS,” threw the package onto the front lawn, and sped out of the driveway.

This puzzled me at first, until I went to my dad’s room and looked out of his window, that looked over the enclosure. Two purebred German Shepherds, jumping higher than (but not over, never over) the six foot fence, barking their fool heads off, tails wagging in doggy excitement; okay, I can see where that might be a concern for a UPS driver who did not know these were two gigantic marshmallow puppies, who had a whole  call and response routine perfected before they could have breakfast or dinner. It went like this:

Human:  :holds food bowl at human chest level:  What’s in the bowl?
Dog: :jumps up to see contents of bowl:
Human: Where do you want it?
Dog:  :runs into doghouse, pokes head out:
Human: Are you sure?
Dog: :repeats above:
Human: Are you really sure?
Dog:  :repeats above:
Human: Are you black dog sure?
Dog: :repeats above:
Human: Okay, then. :gives food:

Annnd scene. :takes bow:  The routine always went the same way: Marlena first, because she was the dominant dog, then CJ. The human in almost every case was me, as my dad did not take part in this particular routine. Maybe it was Real Life Romance Hero a time or two, as he came into all of our lives around this time. Possibly BFF in an extenuating circumstance, but the important thing is, no matter how many times I went away, every time I came back, they knew the whole routine. I’m pretty sure that CJ was, at least in part, merely emulating Marlena, because CJ was, how shall we put this, not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She came to our family because, although an utterly gorgeous pure black German Shepherd, she failed the puppy IQ test that would have allowed her to go pro. I’m serious. She once failed to notice a cooked chicken breast that had landed on her foot, until Marlena clued her in on that one. Marlena, on the other hand, was some kind of dog genius, so they balanced.

So, that’s where my brain is on this Memorial Day. I could say it’s gone to the dogs, and that wouldn’t be too far off the mark. Not that I’m thinking about dogs, specifically, but the fact that it’s Monday. The fact that Marlena and my Mom, who never met, have the same birthday. The fact that I have adopted the same pen as the author, and family friend, who got me into historical romance in the first place, always favored. Last week, at this time, when I sat down at my desk, dreading, as I would be now, shoving a whole week’s worth of work into one Monday (working on fixing that) I uncapped that green Marvy Le Pen, and wrote out what I thought she would tell me, if I could blabber to her over a cup of tea, about exactly that issue. I’d like to think I got it right.

There’s a purple ballpoint I’ve been eyeing , that reminds me of exchanges with a once upon a time friend. I don’t know that I’m ready for that imaginary conversation right now. Where once there were up to fifty page snail mail letters, eagerly anticipated,  now there is silence, paths diverged. I’m not spending a lot of time staring at the fork in the road, because it is Monday, and I do have several days of writing to cram into one, because tomorrow is Tuesday and N, and I am going to have pages, because I am black dog sure.

N does not have a pen assigned to her, or our weekly sessions yet, but they taste like tea (iced from May to September, hot from September to May, weather permitting) and French toast bagels, and I always come away from the sessions energized, because I’ve connected my characters and a reader/writer. It’s not just me and a page or screen anymore; now it’s a group of us. That’s part of the process, and it keeps me moving forward, so, once this blog is posted, it’s a short break, more tea, and then rework some of last week’s pages, before I catch the rhythm and forge on ahead.

Maybe I’ll end up awake into the wee hours again this week, and stumble home from my meeting with N like some over-caffeinated zombie, but even if the pages I bring her are a muddle, they’ll be my muddle, and they’ll make more sense after our talk. My brain generally needs to circle the airport a time or two before it lands, and rushing things doesn’t make the whole process any easier; quite the opposite. Better to trust that I’ve done this before, so of course I can do it again. This is how it works; relax and enjoy the scenery along the way. I’ll still get there. Left foot, right foot, that sort of thing. If, along the way, Hero’s hip happens to bump against Heroine’s as they take a totally platonic walk, and she happens to get a whiff of soap that does not smell like that on Other Guy, well, I’ll take that, too.

If Not Now, When?

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In two more days, I will be at the Let Your Imagination Take Flight conference.  Between now and then is laundry, packing, about elebenty bajillion emails, and some furious keyboard pounding, as the Beach Ball reaches endgame. This year, I’m pitching again, after a couple years’ break, and I am co-presenting for the first time ever. There’s no time to be nervous. There’s only time for doing what has to be done, and figuring out the time in which I can do it. This entry is getting pounded out in one go, because I have pages to fill, and there is the aforementioned laundry to be done, with the help of Housemate, because I have, according to Housemate and Real Life Romance Hero alike, sustained the most Anna-y injury ever. I hiccupped too hard, and now my back thinks it’s digging-Housemate’s-car-out-of-the-snowbank all over again. Good thing my work involves sitting in a comfy chair.

Every three months, a new issue of Art Journaling magazine comes out, and I pounce on it as soon as I possibly can. Every time, I scan it quickly, then take a longer look later, with beverage of choice, possibly a nibble or two, and drink in all the inspiration. I wish I could make pages like that. I wish I could layer colors and make backgrounds and figure out where to put stamps, and knew the best kind of white pen to write on paint or magazine images, and not look like a third grader on the first day of art class (even though pretty much every artist ever has been a third grader on the first day of art class, at some point in their creative journey.) I look through, and I want to make those pages, and I make some pages, and some of them are kind of okay, but nothing more than that.  At some point, I throw my hands in the air and wander off, leaving scraps of waxed paper and blobs of gesso in my wake.

This past weekend, while doing my regular grocery shopping, I made my ritual pass through the notebook aisle and found something I’d never seen before. Cahier style notebooks, with multicolored bright pages, plain black cardstock covers, but -BAM- color explosion inside. I am pretty sure that the package of three notebooks jumped into my cart of its own accord. This is not a bad thing. I hate blank white pages. Hate them. They’re…blank. They’re…white.  They’re…:gestures vaguely: there. Daunting. Where the heck does a person start on a plain, blank page? This is exactly why my morning pages have to be done in a pretty book, or one I make pretty with my own embellishments. I knew as soon as I saw these, I had to take a crack at using them to make those pages.

Yesterday, I needed to get out of the house, so I threw a few long-neglected supplies into a bag, grabbed my new toy and headed for the coffee house I hadn’t seen in over two weeks. No overthinkings, only making marks on the page. I’d started at home, with an ink test on the last page of one of the books, and then…I printed. I doodled. I squiggled. I made notes on things I had bought but never tried, or tried once and wandered off because it didn’t work perfectly the first time. I put in my earbuds, put on some Netflix, and I put stuff on the hot pink page.

artjournalHRCH

Here’s a better look at the supplies I used:

artjournalstuff

I didn’t use the glue stick, because I didn’t bring anything I could glue onto the page, but it’s in the bag, so it’s there when I need it. When it was time to go home, I had a couple other techniques I wanted to try. I slapped some gesso on the next spread of pages (okay, first, I slapped some matte gel medium on the inside cover first, because I didn’t read the label before I opened the jar) and then, when that dried, thought I’d have a go at another thing I’d always wanted to try, and always looks foolproof. It is not foolproof. I am referring to the green blobs in the corners.  Those green blobs were meant to be gentle washes of different shades of green. Maybe next time.

artjournalbackground

Even so, I think I did okay. This is only two layers on one substrate. I still have stamps I’ve been too nervous to try, because they are special stamps, from a favorite creator, and I don’t know, or have forgotten what I did once know, about inking those images and getting them to do what I want. Still, the way I see it, I have two options here. I can leave the special stamps safe in their packaging, or I can rip off the cellophane, slap some ink on those suckers and see what they can do.

In that respect, it’s not all that different from writing. When I sat down with the contents of my travel pouch, and a pristine, hot pink page, with its subtle contrast of lines, I wasn’t going for perfect. Nobody ever had to see this. Nobody would ever judge this (that only applies when one does not slap it on the interwebs, btw) and my only goal was to explore and have fun doing it. I knew I would create imperfect pages, and that took all the pressure away. What did this tool do? What kind of mark does this pen make? Let’s find out. Let the movie play and slap things down on the page and drink tea, censors off.

As the first draft of the Beach Ball bounces its way to the finish line, I’m keeping that in mind, and that’s also the plan for draft two of Her Last First Kiss. Create imperfect pages, on purpose. Let the movie play.

AnnaSelfieComment

 

Pilgrimage

annabowling Leave a comment

Yesterday, my Beach Ball collaborator, Melva, and I made our meant-to-be-monthly pilgrimage to the NECRWA chapter meeting. The topic this month, appropriately enough for January, was beginnings. I did not take  any notes during the presentation, because I spent the entire time working on notes for the Beach Ball, in the detachable pages of my all purpose Moleskine, with my newest favorite and now indispensable tool, a mechanical pencil. Melva and I talked out a couple of scenes we didn’t fully have a handle on, on our own, but when we put our heads together, boom, there they were. So, I wrote stuff.

Melva and I agreed that we both do our best work on the Beach Ball on these drives, two hours there and two hours back. We both talk fast, ideas pinging off each other like the silver ball in a pinball machines, flashing lights and bells going off all around us. She drives. I write notes on what we create, together, transcribe them when I get home, and I send the neat, orderly pages her way.

The pages I write in the passenger seat are not neat or orderly. they are a swath of bullet points, scrawled in mechanical pencil, with smudges from erasures and the odd eraser crumb wherever it falls. I have only recently discovered the joy of mechanical pencil. When I use pencil, I can erase instead of cross out, which means I don’t have to lose any space when something better comes along. Yesterday, I ran out of lead before we ran out of road. I could go on with some other writing implement, but I couldn’t reach my tote with my seatbelt still in place.

Melva said there might be some pencils in her purse. My left hand curled nervously around the red Bic Cristal I keep in my raincoat pocket for dire emergencies such as this one. I hadn’t wanted to use ballpoint in this particular Moleskine, my first ever 8×5 Volant, moss colored cover, perforated pages, so that I could write on any project on the go, take out those pages, and transcribe/file them where they actually go, but we were on a roll, and I didn’t want to break the flow.

Thankfully, Melva was right. She did have pencils. The first, I snapped the lead three or four times, as I put pencil to paper, but then I changed to the other. Cue choir of angels. Melva informed me that said pencil was school issue (she is a college professor) and not sold to civilians. Figures. I will purchase others.

We covered a lot of ground on this trip, both literally and figuratively. We joked that we should rent an RV, drive to California, from NY, where I live, or MA, where she lives, and by the time we reach the other coast, we’ll have a first draft done. Then we’d turn around and revise on the way back. Either that, or we drive around in big circles until we have a book. What matters is that we filled  a bunch of pages on this trip. Today, those pages rest.

Today, I write on Her Last First Kiss, a scene that was not in the original draft, but makes narrative sense. Maybe more importantly than that, it will be fun. I hope it will be fun. It’s got Hero, it takes place in a sort of setting I always find fun to write, and I know N is expecting that puppy, so I had better get it written today, but that doesn’t mean there has to be pressure.

What it does mean is that I unplug, settle in with open notebook and take pencil or pen and word-doodle. No, that’s not right. Story-doodle. I’m doodling story, even though I use words to do it (using interpretive dance would require rearranging the furniture and possibly obtaining proper footwear.) I need to make a few wrong turns, double back, get the lay of the land, before I can finalize my map and then follow it to my destination. There may be a few side trips and loop-de-loops while I get my bearings, make sure this scene feels/sounds like Hero, not some random placeholder character. I definitely don’t want him sounding like Guy, who made himself very much at home in my head for most of yesterday. I think that makes my brain their time share, but I am fine with that.

 

 

 

Waiting on Wise (Wo)men

annabowling 2 Comments

Technically, it is still Christmas until January 6th, but it’s the first Monday of the new year, and that seems like the perfect time to jump back into the daily routine, beginning as I mean to go on. New year, new chances, and all of that. I like the idea of a clean slate. It fits into my clean sweep/more layers mindset, and now it’s time to draw from that well that the tucked-away week filled.

This time last year, I did not have a new planner to move into on the first of the year, and I don’t have one to move into this year, either, but for a different reason. This year, I picked up a seventeen-month planner (how have I managed to ignore these things until now?) so I moved into the new planner in the summer, and am starting the year off by using the stuffing out of this one. The pen for this book is actually a Sharpie liquid pencil (another thing I had no idea existed until recently) and, so far, it’s working. I have long since accepted that I am a planner. I want, even need, to know what I’m doing, and when I’m doing it. Then, within those boundaries, I can run wild. Hey, it works.

So, what does the new year hold? For one thing, lots of historical romance. Actually, that would be two things, as I mean both reading and writing my favorite genre. Last year, I set my Goodreads reading goal at fifty  books. I actually read eighty-nine, so this year’s goal is ninety. I have one down so far, and should be finishing at least one more in the next day or two. The way I figure it, if I read two books each week, allowing two weeks for dry spells/rest/deadline crunches, I’m going to be sitting pretty in the reading department.

Writingwise, this is the year. The last ten have been a wild ride, which could be a book in itself, but I don’t write horror. What I do write is historical romance, and, with Melva Michaelian, historical-adjacent romance. Since I work best with regular feedback, it’s my responsibility to make sure I get exactly that. Today, I will work on the next draft of chapter two of Her Last First Kiss, which I need to turn in to N tomorrow morning. She, in turn, will have pages from her WIP to show me, and the plan is to read and comment on the spot. N asked me to bring printed pages rather than sending in email ahead of time. This is out of my comfort zone, as it will require me to A) figure out WTF is jamming my nifty awesome printer that will not print, or B) hie myself to library or office supply store to print on their devices. Probably B) and then A, but the point is that this is stretching, which is what I want.

Thanks to the RWA critique partner matching registry, I have a good lead on a historical romance critique partner. Not only do we share common interests within the genre, but in other things as well, and even prefer similar historical periods. Next step is exchanging sample chapters and seeing if we are indeed the good fit it looks like we may be, and then onward we go. If I’m being held accountable and receiving regular feedback, it’s a lot harder to tell myself nobody cares, or I’m not making a difference. Maybe the benefits of external validation have something to do with being an extrovert, maybe not, but this feels good. It feels right. It feels as though a piece of the puzzle that got knocked loose during the last ten years is fitting back into place. I like that.

While I was writing this entry, I got a notice I had new email, which, of course, I had to check, because A) I am me, and B) email fits into my social media time, and I am darned shooting sure going to stick to what’s on my schedule on the very first day of having said schedule (seriously, this planner works with the way my brain works, but more on that later.) What was said email? Notice that I had won a Fierce Cheerleading session with abundance coach, Eryka Peskin (who is super awesome, and if you have a chance to be in on one of her challenges, I highly encourage you to take it.)

This morning, I had another notice, on Goodreads, that a new group had been formed, dedicated to the love of historical romance and fiction set in one of my favorite eras, the seventeenth century. That’s the setting for my Orphans in the Storm, and one hundred percent a setting I plan to use again, maybe soon. That’s because my next goal, after finishing both Her Last First Kiss and the Beach Ball in 2017, I need to look farther down the road and decide what’s coming next. Sitting down in front of a blank screen doesn’t work for me, so that means I need to put some feelers out there and see what I’m going to be writing next, after these two couples find their happily ever afters. Because writing historical romance? That’s my HEA. Okay, that and Real Life Romance Hero, because he has truly earned the title, but this is the year to be a little (or a lot) less  “Grace Kelly” (though the party in the video does look awfully fun):

and more in the spirit of this ditty below (language may not be for gentle readers or little ones in the room):

This year,  I don’t feel a letdown at the end of the tucked-away week,  like I have in the past. 2017 is the year I get to cross  “present at NECRWA’s annual conference” off my bucket list, and I could  not be in better company than my co-presenters, Corrina Lawson and Rhonda Lane. It is still Christmas until January 6th, what my father called Three Kings’ Day, which others may know as Epiphany, or the celebration of the wise men arriving at one very special manger. This year, my planner has “ornament harvest” where “take down tree” used to go, because, this year, I’m looking at the new season differently. I think I’m going to like the view from here.

First Things First

annabowling Leave a comment

This is where I am today, likely for a large part of the day. The origina text of this entry was handwritten (all right, “by zombies,” if you must. This is my blog, and I can use whatever tense or voice I see fit when I am writing it.) in vintage number two pencils that were once my father’s, on scrap notebook paper rescued from a rolling file cart that was once Housemate’s and now is mine.  The reason why is that my brain works better this way.

Staring at blank screens, no matter how often I have done so over the years, is not my idea of fun. Give me a sheet of writing paper, however, and some means to make marks upon it, and my brain breaks into something not entirely unlike a Bollywood dance routine. Right now, I am on my fifth notebook for morning pages, thirteen spreads away from needing a new one. That will be number six. I don’t remember the exact date I started this practice, without getting up to look, but I do know that I am glad I did. I get myself to my office as close to first thing in the morning as I can manage, plop my bottom in the chair, open the notebook, and I write. The subject does not matter, and I am the only one to see those pages, period.

Today, I finally sketched light pencil lines on the line-less page, and, right away, I felt as though I had sunk into a warm bath. Relief. Rightness. Home. I wrote about a morning, yesterday, when everything had gone wrong, from a missing wallet (eventually found) to not one but two friends losing beloved pets. About getting caught in the rain on my way home from my usual Tuesday breakfast meeting with N. About the long PM conversation I had that afternoon, with an author I admire for many reasons, and the feeling of connection and a seed of a new idea that conversation started.

One of the things we talked about was reading, so I had that on my mind when I wrote these morning pages. That gave me the idea for another sort of morning pages; reading pages in the morning, in addition to writing them. When I was little, I tried to convince my mother that there was such a thing as wake up stories, and she needed to read me those as much as she needed to read me our nightly bedtime stories. They were married, I think my reasoning was, or siblings (hopefully not both at the same time, ahem) but my efforts to persuade her to read to me in the mornings as well as at night were only sometimes successful. Now that I am the mommy (as in adult female head of household; I do not have children) why not add wake up stories to the routine when possible? Today, I did. I finished writing my morning pages, made a second cup of tea, turned on my Kindle and read. Warm bath feeling, all over again. This was right. This was food.

After that, I wanted to write, but I didn’t want to turn on a screen and touch keys. The internet could wait, and so it did. I took out some scratch paper, and a bullet point list of the day’s tasks flowed out like water. My brain salivated at the thought of putting physical pen to paper, and, so, that’s  my day.

Pen and paper, here in my hobbit hole in the morning, tappity tappity on the pink laptop out in the great wide world (aka coffee house down the block) later. I like this, going with my natural inclinations rather than against them. I don’t remember where I read the suggestion to write out blog entries in longhand (perhaps to photograph and publish that way?) but I always wanted to try it. Again, why not? The blog police are not going to come and get me over this. That’s when the scrap paper and pencils fused in my brain, and I couldn’t wait to get started. We will see how this goes, but the proof for at least today is already here – I wrote this. A piece of writing exists now, that did not exist before, and I did not have to smash my head against a brick wall to make it happen. I like that. I like liking that. I may be on to something here.

Time to wrap this puppy, as I have stories to write, so I will end it with this: keep going. Do what works, stop doing what doesn’t. Stick duct tape over the Hypercritical Gremlins, because they are not allowed to talk to you like that. Make a thing where there was no thing before. More often than not, the more you do, the more you will want to do. My mom was right on that last one, but I’m still right on the wake up stories. (Sorry, Mom.)

 

 

 

 

Typing With Wet Claws: They’re Coming Edition

annabowling 2 Comments

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. There is a lot going on this week, so I will talk about Anty’s writing first. Her latest post at Buried Under Romance is about the heat levels in romance novels, and she does not mean the weather. She means how much kissing, and more than kissing, that an author puts in their stories. I, myself, am fixed, and so have no preference in these matters, but, apparently, humans do, and like to discuss them. Anty’s post is here, and it looks like this:

BURAug20

In case WordPress is being picky again and not letting Anty make links within text, click or cut and paste here:

http://buriedunderromance.com/2016/08/saturday-discussion-too-hot-to-handle.html#disqus_thread

It is also being picky and not letting her reply to comments on that page right now, but she will answer as soon as she can.

The first thing that happened this week was that the cable humans meant to turn off service to somebody who was moving, but they read the wrong number and cut our service instead. That was a mistake. We did not have cable or internet for two and a half days, except when we could get on the city internet, but that was weak. Anty did not mind all that much, because there was city internet, and because that was enough to run Spotify when she wrote. She wrote a lot this week. She and Anty Melva outlined the rest of the Beach Ball (loosely, Anty says, but it still counts) and had a Skype meeting about that. Anty Melva asked if Anty wanted to pitch a workshop they created together to the NECRWA conference (they will go, even if the conference people say no thank you) and Anty said okay. So there is that. Anty also used what she learned from Miss K. A.’s workshop last week, to take care of some things with Her Last First Kiss, which also makes her very happy. With the anticipated return of Anty’s super powers, and firm plans, this should be a very write-y autumn.

One way that I know this will be a very write-y autumn is that Anty is now less than two weeks away from filling her third morning pages book. Here is the current book (the one with the Eiffel Tower) next to the next one (it says “Fearless,” which Anty wants to be in what she is writing these days.) :

PaPaYaParisFearless.jpg

The Fearless book is really half a book, because Anty started writing something else, with the wrong pen, in the first part of the book, and then set it aside. When she started writing her morning pages in the Paris book, she knew she wanted to continue with books by the same maker, PaPaYa! Art, because they look like how her brain feels. Anty says that will make sense to some other writer humans. It does not make sense to me, but then again, I am a kitty. They are pretty, though, and pretty pages help Anty write more. Here is a better look at the Fearless cover by itself, and the pens Anty will use to write in it:

 

 

Those pens are also the pens Anty has in her daily carry bag, so this could get interesting, though, with the number of times she has written her morning pages on the go, this may actually make it more convenient. She has not missed a single day since going to seven days a week, and thinks that may have something to do with writing more, in general. The rotating page designs probably have something to do with her being eager to see what pages she will write on that day, although they do rotate, which means it is the same sequence, so she should know these things. Anyway, these are the designs on which she will write her morning pages this time:

 

 

Another thing that Anty loves, besides writing, is organizing. Anty loves, loves, loves organizing. I, on the other paw, love, love, love things staying the same. You can see where we might have creative differences when it comes to moving things around. Anty is moving things around, because we are having company on Sunday. Anty Mary and Uncle Brian are friends who still live where we used to live, and they are all very excited to see each other. I, again, on the other paw (I am a kitty; I can have up to four paws in this situation. Well, any situation, because I do have four paws, all the time. I walk on them.) am not as into the concept of visitors as Anty  and the other humans.

I already had to deal with the Cable Human this week, so I am not that thrilled about more visitors. Uncle and Anty put me into Mama’s room with the door closed, so that I would not have to deal with the Cable Human, but there is a cable box in Mama’s room, too, and Cable Human had to look at it, as well as the one in the living room. I hid under the bed, but he still saw me. I do not know why. Only my tail stuck out. That was the only thing. He did his job and left quickly, so that was good. Anty Mary and Uncle Brian will stay longer than that, though (partly because Uncle will be feeding them. Also because they are good friends who have not seen each other in a long time.

They also have not seen me in a long time, so I will probably come out and say hello at some point, because they are not strangers. Also, they smell like doggy. His name is Alex. I have never met him, but Anty says he is a Golden Retriever. That is a big doggie. He will not be coming; only the humans. I will send him kitty scents on his humans to tell him hello from me. He can sniff them when they get home. He has smelled me on my humans lots of times, so that will be familiar.

That is about it for this week, as Anty needs to get back to writing and getting the house ready for company, and her office ready for working more efficiently. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

 

 

i1035 FW1.1

Until next week…

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

Right Now

annabowling 5 Comments

Right now, I am in the comfy chair, bare feet up on the footrest, an ice pack on my lower spine (for heat regulation, not injury; I’m fine.) My Paris travel mug sweats on the table to my right. It’s almost empty. I’ll need to get up and refill it soon. On my left, a box fan sits in the open window. Ominous gray clouds lurk low over the old brick building across the street. There was a wonderful pub there when we moved in; it’s empty now. Its neighbors, a bodega and a liquor store, remain. I am listening to a new-to-me singer, Levi Kreis, on my phone, because Spotify can be patchy when using the web player on my laptop, and I’m still hypervigilant about memory, so downloading very little to the hard drive. I suspect that the multiple YouTube videos H sent me, of the Danish Royal family (it was all for writing, really it was) may have left their ghosts in my cache, because there is a full GB less of space than there was the day before, and I clean caches daily. I’ll deal with that later.

Right now, I have enough time to focus on this entry, because it is a domestic tornado day. One of these days, I may start naming our domestic tornadoes. If I start here, this one will be “Anton.” Well, maybe not Anton, because the Anton I know in real life is the owner of my favorite coffee house, and, while he does wear a lot of hats (metaphorically and literally) he has nothing to do with today’s tornado. So, maybe not Anton. Maybe I’ll start naming tornadoes some other time, when I am not actually in the middle of one.  Not entirely sure if that is ever going to happen, so maybe it’s more of a juggling act.

Right now, I want to squeeze in as much blog entry as I can before I have to shift back to family mode. What I would like to do is pack up laptop and legal pad, ensconce myself at Anton’s establishment and delve into my eighteenth century world, but that’s not what this afternoon is going to be. Okay. Can’t change that. What I can change is my response. The day is what it is. I like my family, and spending time with them is not a bad thing. We all work together to make a good life for all of us, and, for every tornado, there is going to be a calm (or at least an eye.) So, it’s going to happen. Not a zero sum game. Since I have my purse notebook, all necessary accoutrements in the accompanying pouch, I can take my show on the road. I seriously think this may become my new default notebook:

CaseMateWithGelPens

All that ink on paper…soooooo calm. Insert happy sigh here.

Margins are perfect for making short lists, and notes on what’s on the rest of the page, where needed. Highlighting dates and headings means I can go immediately to what I want, which I like very much. Seriously considering drawing margins on the pages of other notebooks that do not have them already. Anything at all can go in these all purpose books, and the fact that my newly discovered music crush has some songs that would fit beautifully for Hero in certain situations, should there ever be a Her Last First Kiss musical (hey, I can dream) means that musing on same is perfectly fair game. Anything specific to a particular project, I can copy into the proper book when the time comes, and there’s always transcription to computer file, but I know myself. Longhand is best.

Speaking of longhand, I am locking in these PaPaYa! Art notebooks as my next two morning pages book, since I am now on the second half of the book I am currently using:

PaPaYa!Notebooks.jpg

Notebook and a half, actually

The “Fearless” book is really half a book, since it belongs to the “uh, no, I actually don’t want to use this book for that purpose” family. It’s about halfway filled, maybe a little less than that, with ramblings in purple ballpoint, which, while a pen I love (promo pen from Hannah Howell) also one that doesn’t show up well on the surface of these pages. The “Love You to the Moon” book, I have been saving for a special occasion. Today, I decided that right now is special enough.

 

This Saturday, I get to have the great good pleasure of attending my monthly CRRWA meeting, made all the better by a workshop with the luminous K.A. Mitchell, who always puts us to work, which I greatly appreciate. Writer people, if you ever get a chance to take one of her workshops, do. Anyway, a tidbit from her workshop on breaking creative blocks feels appropriate for right now: use the good stuff. Use it now. Beautiful notebook, fun idea, character who won’t shut up; use them now. Don’t wait. There will be more. That’s how creativity works.

Typing With Wet Claws: Heart of a Storyteller, Hand of a Smurf Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Anty wanted me to get this post up early in the morning, but that is not what happened, for a couple of reasons. First, it is sometimes hard for Anty to get to sleep when it is hot and muggy (I do not have that problem, thankfully. I can sleep anytime.) Then, when she finally did (after helping Mama to give me my pill, which I do not like) she crashed, hard. Then she remembered she had a lot of things to do, the first of which was dealing with my stuff. All I will say is that I hit the trifecta today. It is a good thing Anty has puppy pads and Febreeze. Also, Anty had to do laundry, and, because it was late, it was while a lot of people were there, instead of no people, which makes for a different experience, and crabbier Anty. Anyway, if you are wondering why this is showing up in the afternoon instead of the morning, that is why.

Because part of our deal is that I have to talk about Anty’s writing first, I will do that now. She has been busy. First, her Buried Under Romance post on the struggle of getting into a book that isn’t quite working is here, and it looks like this:

 

BUR

Anty loves when readers leave comments. She will even answer them.

 

Anty also wrote a review of a book she found very interesting, If I Fall, by Lauren Oliver. That book got Anty thinking about voice, emotion, and characterization, a lot. Her review is here and it looks like this:

GOODREADS

Yes, Anty is pondering how this could work in historical romance.

For actual fiction writing, this has been a good week, too, summerbrain not withstanding. On Tuesday, when Anty met with Miss N, Anty had the hands of a smurf, because she is still learning how to refill fountain pens. Also because she had a blueberry bagel, but, mostly, it was the ink. Not only did she get ink on her hands while filling her pen, but when she took off the cap, she shot a stream of inky blue water all the way across the table, because she had not gotten all of the water out when she rinsed the nib. I did not see that, because that was at Panera and I was at home, but there is a picture, so I will share that with you here:

IMG_20160726_120710 (1)

Heart of a storyteller, hand of a smurf.

Anty finds that writing in longhand is her very best way to get the ideas out of her head and into readable form. She is also very thankful that first drafts are supposed to be rough, because this one is. That is okay. She is laying down the foundation, and she can go back and make it pretty later (even though she likes to do the actual writing on pretty paper; you cannot see it much in this picture, but her paper is very pretty. The design is mostly on the borders, and her writing is in the middle.) Right now is when she follows her characters around and writes down what they do. This is not the time to be concerned about whether the language is entirely period specific, so it is okay if she has a character respond with “FML” after something very, very, very inconvenient happens. That is exactly what she did, actually; she can go back after the draft is done and translate that to its eighteenth century equivalent. She can also go back and figure out how Heroine’s very young half-sibling would address her in a letter, especially since English is not the half-sibling’s first language. That would be Russian, for those who were wondering.

Yesterday, Anty did remember her notes, and they amounted to a lot more than she thought that she did. She did not want to have to stop working on the book to take care of other things, but I have a very persuasive “feed me” face. Please refer to today’s picture, in case you have any doubts about that. There were other things she had to do, as well, including reading, because story in means story out, but I think it was mostly my “feed me” face, even though she was at the coffee house and I was at  home. My “feed me” face is that strong, trust me on this. Even so, Anty still has Hero and Heroine hanging around her brain, talking to her whether or not it is writing time. That is when she knows she has hit her stride and is on the right track.

Since Anty is making her “I need the computer” face at me, that should probably be about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

i1035 FW1.1

Until next week…

 

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

Flop Day and Morning Page Rambles

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Today is a flop day. The temperature, at last consult, was ninety-three degrees. The sun is bright. I am fair, and sun-and-heat-sensitive. This means stay the heck inside, wear light, loose clothing, stay hydrated, and plop self in front of box fan for the duration. Since I am a writer, this is not that difficult a task. I have reading to do for various upcoming Heroes and Heartbreakers posts, and two ongoing WIPs. Well, official ones. I have back burners. Lots to keep me out of trouble, and in range of cool, moving air. Real Life Romance Hero is at hand, and, later in the afternoon, the whole household (minus Skye, who stays home, because she is a kitty) will decamp to an air-conditioned car and air-conditioned venue for an extra dose of cooling.

Mornings are the easiest parts of flop days, as it’s not as hot yet as it’s going to be, and I’m a morning person anyway. My morning beverage is cold instead of hot on these days, and comes with me when I write my morning pages. In two more weeks, I’m going to have filled my current morning book, and will need to choose another one. This may or may not be from my current stock. A peek, first, at previous and current notebooks:

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Book with the river scene is my previous book; book with burgundy damask flap is current.

 

The Eiffel Tower theme was not intentional, so not strictly necessary for the new book to continue that tradition, but both do have a rotation of designs on the interior pages, and that is a requirement. That’s where the indecision comes into play. I do very strongly prefer writing on beautiful pages, and having rotating designs on each two page spread reinforces that I am writing two pages and two pages only for this purpose. I could have sworn I had a third Paris-themed book (not the one in today’s featured picture, though that is the new baby; those pages are plain lined ivory, and the only thing I know is that I will be writing on them with red and turquoise Pilot Varsity pens, no clue as to content) at hand, with a black/white/red color scheme, that would be the natural successor, but the book in the crate where I thought it was has plain lined pages, not rotating designs that I remembered. Either I filed it in the wrong crate, or I was engaging in some wishful thinking. Bottom line here is, I need to pick a new morning pages book. I do have two books with rotating designs, as shown below:

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Candidates one and two from current stock

 

I did take pictures of the covers, but it refused to load, and I am not taking pictures of every design in both books, so use your imagination. Assume the art style remains consistent within each book and on its covers. The larger book is Paris-themed, but I’m not sure it’s clicking with me at this precise moment. Neither book has lined pages; some are unlined, and some have grids. The larger book has some pages where the design takes up the entire page, and I’m not sure where I’d even write on those pages. Designs in the smaller book take up part of the page, so that would cut into the writing space, and that’s more thinking than I want to do first thing in the morning, unless it’s one of those days where I get to start off by having breakfast with my imaginary friends. Neither book is out of the running, because A) I have them, and B) I do want to use them one day, but I’m not sure if they belong to this purpose.

There is one other contender currently on hand, and I already know what pen I would use to write in it (turquoise Pilot Varsity, as shown.) :

Front cover
Same spread on all pages

 

Absolutely gorgeous, though the spread is the same on all pages. Could get monotonous after  while, but I could possibly alternate with the sepia Pilot Plumix (once I fix the jammed-too-far-into itself cartridge; last week was not good for refilling fountain pens.)for the sake of variety. Still thinking on that one, and I do  have some time. I’d prefer to use something already on hand, but there are some lovely books out there, so the field is still open. Maybe I’ll even find I didn’t imagine the black, white and red Paris book.

When the time comes, the book will be there. This time around, I’m going to increase my days to seven rather than six. I’ve found I miss doing daily pages on Sundays, and have toyed with having a special Sunday book (which would press another book into service, so maybe not an entirely bad idea there) but keeping everything one place seems the more efficient option. Who knows? I’ll know when it’s time. That’s part of this whole finding my way part of the journey, and if it’s paved with more notebooks, all the better.