possibly pointless blabbering

On Jumping Through Flaming Hoops

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Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go.

E. L. Doctorow

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/writing.html#p4fWBLssxDJjokCS.99

Today, I am borrowing Housemate’s laptop, which is also currently Real Life Romance Hero’s laptop, as his gave up the ghost before mine did. I am writing this at Real Life Romance Hero’s desk, with the earbuds from my tablet, which is really more like earbud, singular, as only one works, because RLRH needed my laptop earbuds for his smartphone. His earbuds died before my earbuds became earbud, so I was happy to share the wealth.

On the way to the desk, I dropped the camera I needed to take today’s picture. The battery compartment sprang open, and I thought, for a minute, that the camera had breathed its last. Thankfully, I’d only put the batteries in again backwards. I have no idea how to use the camera on my tablet, so most of my use of that now consists of chasing Skye around the living room, asking her, “where’s your face?” Okay, question is really for the tablet, so that I can figure out where the darned camera actually is aimed. I have room for vast improvement in that area. So far, I am really good at getting blank walls in my view. I don’t think that’s exactly how it works.

I have one of two jump drives stuck in the USB port, the other one soon to go in alongside it, providing they fit. This excites me more than the average bear, because I can’t use them both on my own laptop, as one port is permanently occupied by the external keyboard that I am still convinced had some role in shutting off my internet from that particular computer, and if this is an easily fixable thing, I am going to have words for  myself, and not the fictional kind. New laptop has, according to tracking, left the warehouse and is on the way to a local big box store for pickup. Could be there as soon as tomorrow, could be as late as the weekend. Until then, it’s jumping through flaming hoops to do things that ought to be easier.

To write a long overdue post for another blog, I need to do some research on this computer, then write that down longhand and take it to my office at the other end of the house and write it on the desktop that has Word (this laptop does not, as it does not belong to a writer) then save to jump drive. Then jump drive comes back to this laptop so I can send it in at long last. Similar hoop jumping needs to happen for critting two friends’ manuscripts and work on one of my own, so I can send pages to this project’s critique partner.

Working on the desktop, which is older than Skye, and probably still has Olivia hair in the keyboard somewhere, means that I need to bring the tablet into the office as well, since I write best with music playing. I still have not yet found the ideal configuration of working at my desk with the current machines. Working on manuscript will mean working on non-internet laptop, as that’s the one that has Scrivener on it, which I am only now learning how to use for my particular purposes (as a kinesthetic learner, my best route is to jump in, muck about and find my own way; this is usually messy and results in a lot of things that don’t work, along my way to finding what does.) Using my current laptop at my desk means either having the external keyboard in my lap and head tilted at an interesting angle because earbud cord and charger cord for tablet are only so long, or having tablet ,in my lap and balancing external keyboard over laptop keyboard. That second option means that the external keyboard will randomly turn my laptop’s sound off and on, remind me I have no bluetooth devices (thanks, I knew that already) and/or that I am not connected to the internet. (Again, got that.)

This is not my ideal working environment, especially on a day that is so hot and sticky that the only thing I actually want to do is take a nap, which would make up for the too-humid-to-sleep night. Still, there is nothing that I would rather do than write in and about my favorite genre (time for reading it later) so, if jumping through the flaming hoops listed above is what I have to do to get there, then fine. I will do that. That’s the best thing to come out of the robot uprising attaching itself to multiple family medical emergencies in the last two months.

After two months of hands on caregiving, things are looking different. The theoretical schoolbus has dropped me off again, in front of whatever institute of learning is involved in this whole writing thing. As with improving one’s physical self, I’m going to consider that resistance builds stregnth. I’m inspired by a former student of mine, from my From Fanfiction to Fantastic Fiction course, a session a couple years back now, who wrote of how she would dismantle her entire desktop system, back when this was a Big Deal, load it in the back of her car, every weekend, so she could drive two hundred miles to the house where her collaborator lived. Once there, she’d put the darned thing back together, they’d spend the entire weekend writing, only to dismantle it, make the long haul back home and do it all over again the next week. I am still in awe of that sort of dedication, and, now that I do have to jump through hoops, I get it. It’s worth it.

Typing With Wet Claws: Back on Our Feet Edition

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Hello all, Skye here for another Feline Friday. I am blogging on my computer today, with Anty’s brand new stylus. It is tricky to use if you have paws, which I do. Still, it leaves fewer prints on the screen, so I thought I would give it a try. If I make a lot of mistakes, please remember I do have paws. Also, I am very cute.

This has been a challenging week. Uncle had to go back to the people vet, this time because his paws were sick. He had to get some rest and take different pills that would not hurt his paws. Uncle was very brave, and did not have to wear the cone of shame. We are all very proud of him. He is much better now and can go out to hunt for cat food and other necessary things.

This means that Any does not have to spend as much time taking care of people vet things and can focus more on her writing. This is good news because she tends to get crabby when she does not get to write. Also when she does not get to sleep. She has not been doing a lot of either his week, come to think of it. She has been pretty crabby. That is all about to change, though, since Uncle has gone back to hunt. His paws are better, he is in a good mood, and they had a nice time together after he helped Anty put away her hunting (she hunted a lot of groceries with Mama, who had to go out and hunt some more.) With Mama and Uncle both out of the house, that means that Anty can use the internet computer all she wants.

She first thought she could be okay using only her tablet, Robin Sparkles, and sending files from there to other computers, but it did not work out as easily as she had hoped. Also, one computer shared among three humans takes more planning than a tired brain can handle without somebody’s schedule colliding with somebody else’s. Then there is the fact that three people using one computer all that much means it is getting pounded on far more than one computer should. This means that a new computer will probably come into the house soon. That means change. Have I mentioned kitties do not like change? Maybe the box will be nice. I do not climb, so I will probably not get inside it, but I might like to lean against it. I like leaning.

Anty does like working with Robin Sparkles, though, because they can go to the mall lots of different places. One thing Anty had always wanted to do with a tablet is get on Instagram, and, today, she did. Right now, all there is, is a picture of me, but that is a very good start. If you are on Instagram, Anty is annacarrascobowling on there. She will probably have lots of pictures of me and ducks, but not in the same picture, because the ducks are in the park and I am at home.

Anyway, Anty is getting ready to move files onto the new computer when it arrives. She can still use her old laptop for writing and playing The Sims 3 (she does not have 4 yet, but tried the demo and thought it was fun, so someday, she will get that game also) but it cannot use the internet any longer. Maybe the computer vet can help it do that again, but we will not know that for a while. If the computer vet is really good, maybe they can even fix the H key. Uncle knows a good computer vet and we will take Anty’s and Uncle’s old laptops to them soon. I expect there may be bad words, but on the other paw, that might mean more working computers. I do not know how it works when there are more computers than humans. Maybe they will need to get another human? I like the humans we already have and do not need any more. No offense.

Anty likes the idea of starting over with a brand new machine, even though that will mean a lot of work getting things set up. The new computer will probably not have Word, but she can put Scrivener on it, and also Zen Writer.  She likes Zen Writer because it is pretty and she can hear typewriter key sounds while she works. I think those key sounds are very interesting. She knows that it will take a long time to install Sims 3 on a new computer, but the up side of that is that it will be able to handle the expansions she has and maybe a new world or two. Then she can actually play instead of sigh when the drivers fail and the screen goes black. She is much less crabby when she can play Sims. If she can write, sleep and play Sims, she is a lot easier to live with; take my word on that one. I could tell you stories, but then she might not let me use the computer as much as she does now, so I will not do that.

Not all of the files will make it to the new computer, and that is all right. Stories that she has decided she will not be writing after all (we will not talk about the vampire historical, for example) can stay where they are. She will probably not delete them, but maybe save them to disk instead, where they cannot hurt anybody. Keeping only stories she is currently writing on the new computer will cut down on mental clutter and help keep her focused. I could point out that inspirational picture files take up a lot of space, but I also know where my treats come from, so I will not do that, either. She can look at me and Uncle. That should be enough.

This week, the coming soon announcement is mine. I have lined up my very first Posting Playdate guest, Bailey. Bailey lives with my Anty Sue Ann, who blogs at SueAnnPorter.com. That is very exciting. I have never had a guest before, but I have read Anty’s interviews, so I think I have a good grasp on how that goes. Watch this space for more details.

That is about it for this week, so, until next week, I remain very truly yours,

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

Until next week...

Until next week…

Random Thoughts From a Tired Mind (with pictures of ducks)

annabowling 2 Comments

Hopping on the Thursday Thirteen bandwagon today, because a dose of normal in the current sea of chaos is welcome today, and having a bit of structure helps immensely. So.

  1. Random duck pictures will be a lot easier now that I have a camera cord again, though the ones in this post are from a few weeks back.
  2. I am happy to be a caregiver, and at the same time, really want a nap. Also some reliable way of remembering what day it is. Internet and calendars, yes, those are helpful.
  3. If the library could get our family another copy of Game of Thrones, season one, with season two following close behind, that would be great. I am in withdrawal.
  4. Reading historical romance, my favorite genre, is really hard right now, and I am not at all certain why. I am fairly sure this will pass, but I want to read romance, though it’s hard to get into and that bugs me like heat rash.
  5. Realistic YA reading (and listening) binge continues. I have not developed a desire to write in this genre, but reading it works quite well. I could gorge on the raw emotion I’m finding there and want to carry it over to romance.
  6. I wonder if I left my favorite historical romance books and my favorite realistic YA books in a candlelit room with Barry White music playing, if they would kindly breed.
  7. I suspect their method of reproduction may be through my brain and fingers.
  8. Technology is not my friend, and I suspect may actually be writing nasty things about me on the walls of whatever it is computers use as bathrooms. I do not want to know what computers use as bathrooms.
  9. Notebooks are love. It is not possible to have too many notebooks. Starting a separate notebook blog crosses my mind more frequently than I would like to admit.
  10. When I am not writing romance, I miss it like a homesick orphan. :dims lights, cues spotlight, sings even more mournful version of “Memory” from Cats.:
  11. Computer issues will be solved, at some point, one way or another, and finding workarounds in the meantime is a good way to stretch creativity, but I am looking forward to finding the solution even more.
  12. I am impatient for the Paper Towns movie, and to see the two episodes of Poldark waiting on my DVR. I also would like to mush them together and see if they breed, but then remind myself to see #7 above.
  13. One earbud from the set that came with my tablet has just given up the ghost. See #8 above. This requires more ducks:
i1035 FW1.1

duck, duck…

random waterfowl

…goose

Roadblocks and Detours, pt 2

annabowling 2 Comments

I’d had a plan for this entry, and had hoped to post another video blog, which will happen, but not today. After yesterday’s chaos, which Real Life Romance hero summed up as a “crawl underneath the covers head first and pretend The Walking Dead is real” day, I was looking forward to getting everyone off to work, so I could get down to work. Blog, scene due to collaborator, desperately yearning to get out plot board and fix my historical outline, long-neglected emails that have had only a series of “I’ll get to you ASAP” promises because domestic tornadoes keep swiping through, but today…today was going to be The Day To Get Stuff Done. Laughing yet?

Anyone who has been a caregiver long enough knows the “we’re going to the hospital” feel in the air. Easier trip this time than most, quickly seen, quickly sent home, well medicated, hospital-goer now resting and fed, me settled in with Housemate’s computer (aka the family computer until we can remedy the situation) and a cup of tea, because what else would one be having on the last day of June? Ready to write, but what? It’s another unexpected turn in the road, to be home this early on a hospital day, a very good thing, but goes to show how quickly we can become accustomed to routines, even stressful ones.

I’ve told Real Life Romance Hero that I don’t know if I’m going to know what to do with myself when I’m working on a computer where everything works, nothing has to be switched around, and I do not have to rest the keyboard on my :ahem: self when I need to access the touchpad. Actually write books and posts, one would hope. At least that’s the plan, but if I’ve learned one thing about plans, it’s that an old favorite Dutch proverb is of use here: Man plans, God laughs. I’m also reminded of a favorite Polish proverb, “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” which origin story I would love to find out from someone who was there at the time, but I digress.

Digression fits with the whole roadblocks and detours theme. Roadblocks are those things that plop themselves down in our way, cutting off the progress we thought we were ready to make. Detours are the ways we get over, under, around or through them. When we meet a roadblock, we have two options; turn back and end the journey right there, or find a detour. We can choose to get where we want to go by taking another way there.

Sometimes, we learn things by taking a different way there. Maybe we find a better route, or a more scenic one. Maybe we find that the route we never thought we would take is the one we’d like to make the regular one from then on, but never would have even known it existed if the roadblock on the route we always took wasn’t there. Roadblocks aren’t always bad. Sometimes, they’re a clear sign from something/someone bigger than ourselves, saying, “no, not this way,” and sometimes we grouse and kick and scuff our shoes in the dirt, because, dammit, we wanted to go that way.

When I first knew I was a writer, I honestly thought that the only genres open to me were mystery and hard science fiction. Neither are a good fit for me. Romance, though? That’s my home. But I didn’t think it was “allowed.” So I tried and tried and beat my head bloody against a mental brick wall, trying to drum up some enthusiasm, but nothing. So okay. Not those things. Romance. Romance, good. Romance natural. Historical romance as natural as breathing. Even though a good chunk of my current reading is realistic YA, every single time, there’s a part of my brain thinking “this would be amazing set in Prior Era; how would that affect Plot Point or Character?” That’s how I’m wired. So, that’s what I do. Pretty much anything I take in is going to get filtered that way, and I am fine with that.

When I first knew I wanted to pursue writing as a career, I honestly thought there was One Way to do it and it was some trade secret, accessed only to a privileged few. Time and experience taught me that was about as well informed as the only two genres rule above, which is to say, not at all. Must pants, because that’s true creativity. No, must plot, because that’s the only way to have structure. Must count words because that’s what Real Writers Do. Must write linearly because, well, just because, all right. That works for some, but if it doesn’t work for an individual (like the individual writing this blog post, for example) then that’s a big ol’ “detour” sign. If X doesn’t work, try Y. As K.A. Mitchell says, change your seat. Do something else.

If one computer doesn’t access the internet, then that isn’t the internet computer, easy as that. If there’s no H key, get an external keyboard (or only use words without the letter H, which I am sure can be done, but not by me.) Real Life Romance Hero said earlier today that he’s proud of me for slogging through when getting the job done means jumping through electronic hoops, and I am grateful to him for that, but I think the explanation is easy. I don’t have give-up in me when it comes to this writing thing.

My original plan for writing Her Last First Kiss was to make an outline, write the scenes, get a draft done by Date X and…well, no. Man plans, God laughs. Instead, I learned how I’m not really a plotter or a pantser, but a puzzler, and a layered one at that. Find a new thing about story or characters and go back and factor that in and that changes this, which changes the other thing, and that only proves that the story is alive. I can’t drive it to the end, like I’d planned to do, and I can’t let it drag me behind it, but we can work together, this living story and I, going over, under, around and through whatever life throws at us.

Typing With Wet Claws: Direcat Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for a slightly later than usual Feline Friday. Anty has been busy this week, as we get things with Uncle and people vets sorted out. I am happy to report that he still does not have to wear the cone of shame and does not have to take as many pills after we saw the most recent people vet. I imagine Anty is relieved, but mostly, right now, she is tired.

I am writing this post on Mama’s laptop, because Anty’s has decided it does not like the internet anymore, or maybe it thinks that now the tablet can do all that internet stuff. Either way, this means that Mama’s laptop is now everybody’s laptop, and the humans have to work out a schedule to share it so that everybody gets their fair shot at things. I am glad the tablet is kitty sized, though touch screens can be tricky if you have paws instead of fingers. Anty is looking at other laptops that might be better to use than trying to navigate among several computers that can each do part of the job. We will keep you updated on that search. It is going to take a lot of hunting, but things will calm down when that is settled.

One good thing that has happened in all of this is that Anty has discovered Game of Thrones. That is the TV series, not the books, at least not yet. She and Mama have started calling me their direcat. I do not know exactly what that entails, (hah, see what I did there? Entails? Because I have a tail.) but I did find this sigil generator, and I made my own sigil:

JoinTheRealm_sigil

If you want to make your own sigil, too, the generator I used is here. If you do make your own sigil, for yourself, or your pet, or maybe your characters, if you write, please feel free to share a link to what they look like in the comments. Anty would love to see them.

My favorite episode so far is “The Pointy End,” because that is the episode where a kitty got away from a young human who was chasing him. I am very proud of that kitty. That was some good running. I should note that this is not a show for gentle viewers who do not like to see Bad Things happen, or Very Private Things, either. Anty is not phased. She knows it is pretend, and she likes stories with very high stakes. She says she knows this show is in the fantasy genre, but it feels more like historical fiction to her. I can see where she gets that. She did not like what happened to Lady, and she would really like to see more romance (and not between siblings, thank you) but it is still a very good story so far, and makes her want to see more of an epic feel in historical romances, because she would very much like to write something like that in historical romance.

First, though, she would like to take a nap. That will probably not happen for a while, since she has a lot of writing to do. That is not always easy when the machines on which she writes are giving her guff, as Uncle calls it. Anty says that having notebooks helps her a lot in this regard, because they only crash if they fall off the table. The worst that can happen then is that she will lose her place, but that is usually easy to fix, because that is usually where the writing stops. Unless she was transcribing, and then it might get trickier, but she does like to change ink colors for every session, so if she knows she was on pages written in red ink, that narrows things down when she needs to find her place again. That is very useful when she has to stop to tend to domestic tornadoes or feed me or other important stuff like that.

One good thing about technology is that the camera cord came in the mail today. That means that there will be new pictures of me, and probably also of ducks (Anty says that the ducklings are teenagers now; the girls have blue stripes under their wings and the boys have green heads. There are more girls than boys, if you are counting.) and probably notebooks, too. Anty has a stack of Picadilly notebooks she would like to hack, but she needs to do some more writing first. When a writer has been dealing with other things, even if they are very important,then the writer will miss writing, and they may get grumpy and short tempered. In those cases, it is best to tread carefully and let them do what they need to do. Giving kitties treats also helps, I have found. At least it helps me.  People snacks probably will help the writer, too.

Sharing one laptop  among three humans and one kitty means that we only get a certain amount of time to use it, and that is about it for my time right now. Until next week, I remain very truly yours,

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

Until next week...

Until next week…

Roadblocks and Detours, pt 1

annabowling Leave a comment

I’m intoxicated and turned on by people who are really honest about themselves. 

-Neil Patrick Harris

This is not the entry I’d originally planned on, which fits the theme rather well. I am writing now on Housemate’s laptop, because mine now flat out refuses the internet except on increasingly rare occasions. I wrote the actual entry for today on that computer, put it on jump drive and planned to to a really easy copy and paste, only…there’s always an only…there is no Word on this computer. Wordpad refuses to cooperate, and there’s gobbeldygook before and after the actual document. I know when to give up on things like this, because I have enough crazy in my life and want to save some brain for actual writing.

I’d thought of bringing up the window and retyping the original post here, but I’m not going to do that, because, well, I don’t want to. This is my space where I can talk about what writing is like for me, and right now, it’s aggravating. I don’t want to retype what I already wrote. Going over and over and over the same thing because I once put those words on the digital page and therefore am obligated to…no. Not doing that. Well, maybe in part, but I’ll paraprhase, because I am cranky.

Paying attention, this year, to my own process, not what “should” work or what others think I “should” be doing, but what actually works for me (and by that, I mean gets and keeps me writing) has reminded me that, when something doesn’t work for me, that’s because it’s not right for me. Not that it or I am wrong or bad, but merely that square pegs do not fit in round holes, and no amount of pounding and cursing and forcing is going to make that happen. Put the square peg in the square hole, round peg in round hole, and we can all get on with our days, happier and more productive, and with a lot less cursing. Probably.

There’s a new session of Camp NaNo going on (coming up?) and…I will not be camping. Am not camping? Either way, for me, it’s a no this time, because Her Last First Kiss needs me exactly where I am, on the floor with my legal pads and sticky notes, elbow-deep in the guts of a story and cast of characters that are taking me on the sort of adventure I’ve wanted to get back into for years. Breaking up the fallow ground of what a story “should” be and letting the characters lead me. Taking a shovel to that ground and digdigdigdigdigdigdigdigdig until I hit the vein of the story, of the characters, of the journey we’re going on together.

It’s an interesting one, to be sure. Wrangling domestic tornadoes and dealing with persnickety electronics remind me how much I want this, and exactly what I am willing to do to get this story, and the novella, all the way to The End and out in the hands of readers. Some of those things are things I didn’t expect.

I’m not reading a lot of historical romance at the moment, which bothers me, but doesn’t. I am inhaling a ton of realistic YA, my story brain craving the deep emotions and intimate voices. I’ve seen four episodes of the first season of Game of Thrones, which makes my heart sing and do happy dances from the sheer beauty, the high stakes, the fact that nobody is safe and nobody is nice and the story world is wide, wide open for anything to happen. I still prefer my romantic couples not to have met in the womb, but watching this gets me excited and invigorated. I want that energy to carry over to historical romance, those rough edges, the sense of high emotional stakes and a grand scale. This morning, I finished reading We Were Liars by E. Lockhart, and wow. Brilliant, brilliant book, and, though it absolutely has its feet in a contemporary setting, it read like a historical, a little brown about the edges. GoT has the same feel for me; yes, it’s fantasy, but it “reads” like historical for me, and that’s where I’m watching from when I go into it.

All of these things go into the idea soup that feeds what I’m working on now, and what I’ll be working on after that. I need to take in what I mean to put out, easy as that. Trying to please every reader is not going to work out, but pleasing my readers? That, I can do. So I do what I know works for me. I write in layers. I talk. I have big furry messes of sticky notes and legal pads and cross things out and write things in and oh no, well, that changes everything, let’s backtrack and get it right…and that’s where the magic happens. I’m not beating my head bloody against a brick wall, but telling my stories, my way, and that’s actually fun. Even if I have to jump around among four machines to get a single document into gear. I know why I’m here; I’m  a storyteller, and the stories need to get from my head to readers’, so that’s going to happen, whatever roadblocks present themselves.

I like to write a lot about identity, about characters who get to a place where they don’t let others tell them who to be, but find confidence and strength in who they actually are, who they actually were all along. Works for me.

Typing With Wet Claws: Adjustment Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. The cat zamboni is outside, so I am writing today’s blog from under the bed. That seems like the safest place for a kitty. I have been under the bed and also behind Mama’s bedroom door this past week. There have been some adjustments, which is a fancy human word for changes, and kitties do not like changes. We thrive on routine, and when that routine is different, it takes a while for us to get used to it.

Uncle is back home from the people vet and did not have to go back or wear the cone of shame, but he will have to see other people vets to make sure he stays healthy. Anty is helping him with some of the adjustments, and that takes some time, but she is figuring out how to make that work along with writing. Sometimes, writing things pile up while she is taking care of other things, and then she has to deal with the writing things that have turned into a big jumble while she was away.

I am not allowed to say some of the words she says when she makes lists of things that need doing and finds the time in which to do them. She likes it that organization requires lists and planning and she can use things like sticky notes and highlighters, but it is daunting (fancy human word for scary) to look at the whole big mess of stuff. Probably, that is why she likes to break things down.

That does not, however, include computers. They break down on their own. Here is a list of the machines on which Anty currently works:

Robin Sparkles

Robin Sparkles

Robin Sparkles is Anty’s tablet, and my computer. The port where the cable goes that connects the pink keyboard to the actual computer came out with the cord, and she has not had time to fix it, so she can only use the touchscreen keyboard. She is getting rather good at that, but it is not ideal for writing big chunks of text. She has, though, but it’s not her first choice.

Dahlia

Dahlia

Dahlia is Anty’s very old desktop. It has a nice big monitor, so Anty can make the text big and not strain her eyes. It is older than me, probably still has Olivia (kitty before me) hair in the keyboard and does not connect to the internet, and it is in her office, which I still have not gone into, because I am still not sure about the carpet in there. When Anty writes on this computer, she needs to save to a jump drive and then take it to another computer and access or send the file from there. She has not yet figured out how to make the jump drive work with Robin Sparkles, although she is sure there has to be some sort of adapter somewhere.

Jack

Jack

Jack is short for Union Jack, because this laptop was supposed to have a Union Jack skin on the cover, but Anty never got around to that. Jack is also older than me and he is showing his age. He is on his second battery (it is dead now, so he may get a third,) third power cord and second keyboard. Anty says that working on Jack is like a mini workout, because she has to put the external keyboard on top of the keyboard she cannot use but has to move it when she needs to use the touchpad to put the cursor where she wants it.

Before you ask why she does not use a mouse (I am all for using mice) even that cannot be easy. There are two ports where she could put a mouse, and they are both on the left hand side of the computer. One of those ports is for the external keyboard. The other could be for the mouse, but it is on the left side and Anty is right-pawed. That means she would have to put the mouse in on the left side, and bring the cord around the front or the back of the laptop in order to use it with her right paw. This is where things get tricky.

Anty already has earbuds plugged into the left side of the laptop, and there is a cord for those. The power cord (if it comes out, then the computer has no power and she will have to restart it) already comes around the back of the laptop. The cord for the external keyboard goes either over the top of the laptop keyboard or behind the screen, but then it can get tangled with the power cord and, well, you can imagine what happens then. So, Anty is not very keen on adding another tangly cord to the whole mess, especially when the cord can snap back (it is on a stretchy wheel kind of thing) at any time, which is not good for the cords, or Anty’s sanity. Probably not for my vocabulary, either. Sometimes, when none of the above computers do what Anty needs, she borrows Mama’s computer (he is Jack’s identical twin brother.)  I think this is one of the reasons Anty likes notebooks as much as she does.

Even so, Anty worked with Anty Melva on their book, and they are now two chapters into it. That is rather impressive, considering Anty had to do a lot of switching around between the above machines. That is the important thing. When a human wants something badly enough, they will find a way to get it done. Especially writer humans. The stories are in there; it is only a matter of how they get out. When a kitty wants something, we find a human and stare at them. Speaking of which, my food bowl is empty.

Until next week, I remain very truly yours,

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

Video Blog Q & A

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Monday’s post on Tuesday again, small (very small) improvement on camera technique (hey, I’m still learning, but at least no big giant head this time) and my first time answering reader questions in video form. The most common questions I get asked are:

  • What are you writing?
  • What are you reading?
  • Do you keep a journal?

First two answers are pretty straightforward, the last one less so, and answer number one is actually more what I write in, but it’ll do for now. I am trying to be more conscientious with updating my Goodreads currently reading list, but it’s usually fairly accurate.

“What are you reading?” is an interesting question to ask someone who reads a lot, because that doesn’t always only mean books from a bookstore or on Kindle. I am also beta reading a historical romance by a wonderful author I am honored to know personally, and critiquing a futuristic romance for another writer friend. There’s also First Look assignments for Heroes and Heartbreakers. There are magazines, notably RT Book Reviews, Romance Writer’s Report, and Art Journaling for me. There’s first time reading, rereading, skimming, planned reading, reading that just happens, looking over my own older notebooks or files for bits of tid I’m going to need, or for a boost when I see how far I’ve come. There is a reason my first ms lives in a storage unit in another state.

If I’m watching a movie or TV episode on my laptop or the DVD, I like to have captions on, and there’s a fair deal of reading even when I play Sims 3. Reading blogs, reading email, reading Facebook posts, reading instant messages, reading pretty much anything that comes into my field of vision. Street signs, pizza boxes, anything. It’s an occupational hazard for the reader/writer, so narrowing it down to only books makes the answer a lot shorter, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

Hauling out the notebooks in which I am writing is about as close as I’m going to get, right now, to talking about what I am writing in them, at least here. I do need to talk about works in progress, but selectively, to one or two writer friends. Then I babble, sometimes incoherently, they listen, and reduce all that babbling to the root of the matter, or ask questions that help me figure things out.

Did I mention I love questions? Questions are the best, often unlocking doors I not only didn’t know were locked, but didn’t know were there. So, questions are fun, and always welcome.

Maybe next week, I will have the camera at a non-funhouse mirror angle.

He Asked For It, You Got It: My First Vlog

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My husband asked me, a while back, if I’d ever thought about making a video blog, and I said no. I said no for some time, and I had reasons.  I didn’t like being in front of the camera, nobody would want to watch me yammer about  reading and writing romance novels, the intircacies of notebooks and how I feel about who kissed on TV. So why now? It was time.

Last night, I chatted with the writer friend with whom I am collaborating on a novella project, and she suggested Skype as a means of communicating, as we live too far apart to meet in person. Ulp. Skype? That means downloading something, and letting somebody actually see me. Which is silly, because people see me in person all the time. Since I had to figure out how the camera on my tablet works for Skype anyway, why not record a test video? That, as it turned out, ended up being a bunch of close up pictures of my very scrunchy face, as there is a learning curve to these things. All of those pictures still, naturally, and will not be making it to cyberspace anytime soon.

Then I noticed that other button on the screen and pressed that, and oh. There we go. Not that scary after all. The scary part came later. Watching it back. I’ve always been the person to avoid looking at pictures of myself, and the thought of hearing my own voice has made me cringe for literally decades. This time, though, it was different. Like athletes and dancers need to watch their own videos to get better at what they do, I’m guessing it’s the same with a video blog. So, I did, and know what? I didn’t hate it. No broadcast professionals are going to lose their jobs to me, but it’s fun to have a new way to connect with readers and writers and notebook enthusiasts, so I think we’re going to give this a go.

View my maiden voyage here:

or point your browser to:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMdqan9llH8

Do any of you follow video blogs on writing or reading? What do you like to see covered in such blogs? I’m new, and eager to learn, and who knows, you might get your wish.

Critical Mess

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You just write everything down that you can dream up about the story. Don’t worry if the early drafts don’t make sense. You need to write and write until you understand the characters and what wonderful and horrible experiences they’re having, as well as what their relationships are like and how all those things change their lives. Once you’ve nailed that down, start revising so that the scenes unfold in a logical and satisfying order.
-Laurie Halse Anderson

Monday morning is here again, and that means another week of wrangling the big fuzzy mess of what’s in my head into some semblance of order. Today’s quote speaks to me deeply, because that’s where I am in the writing of two different projects. Characters and relationships and backstories and settings and people and places and things and all of that good stuff bubbles around in the cauldron of my mind, the characters begin to trust me enough to tell me that they’d really rather not X, thank you; they’ll Y instead, and I get an urge to put all of this mess in order. I’ve only recently discovered Laurie Halse Anderson, first through her amazing YA, The Impossible Knife of Memory, where teen heroine Hayley has to navigate her way through her single dad’s PTSD after he returns from military service, and, from the first page, I was knocked flat on my back with her use of language and emotion. Definitely stuff I would like to have flavor my own work. Finding out that she also has historical fiction, set in a period adjacent to the events of Her Last First Kiss both excites and frightens me a little, so I am only going to peek at those books on the library shelves through my splayed fingers for a while.

Shoulds are formiddable enemies. We don’t always know where they come from, but we know the stark terror they can bring about in a writer, the paralyisis, and even the death of perfectly good characters, plot points and even entire books, because, well, things should go like ABC, and this thing I’m working on here doesn’t, so…yeah…better put that away. Be a good little do-bee and follow the crowd, because all those publishers and all those readers and all those industry insiders must be right. I’m not sure if Shoulds are more like walkers from The Walking Dead or white walkers from Game of Thrones (maybe both? I’m only now getting into GoT; late adopter, I know.) They tell us we have to follow Big Name Writer’s process to the letter, when, really, we don’t, because we aren’t Big Name Writer. Maybe we’re not even in the same genre. We don’t come from the same place, geographically, psychologically, or what have you, so, really, it’s a ridiculous assumption to say that one size fits all. It doesn’t. I keep saying that because I keep needing to hammer it into my own head. Tough lesson to learn, but an important one.

This past week, the heroine for HLFK revealed something about herself that I hadn’t taken into consideration, but it makes perfect sense, makes her more interesting and makes writing this book feel a lot less murky. I think this might be my week for my hero to make a similar relevation, and I hope he does. That would make my job a lot easier. Though I’ve usually said I’m a plotter when asked if I’m a plotter or a pantser, I have learned that I need to take a third option. I’m a puzzler. Everything comes at me in one big blob of stuff, and I scramble to get it all down. In the past, I’ve felt I should have all my ducks in a row in my head before a single word hits the page, but now I know that I don’t work that way. I need the mess. I revel in the mess. I thrive in the mess.

I’ve been afraid of the mess, because it’s big, and, well, messy, and I like order. Which is okay. I can let the mess reach critical mass, then step back and start sorting it into some logical sense of order. Events fall into chronological order, which means a timeline will probably be useful, and actions have reactions, which spawn more actions, and on and on until we reach the end. The most useful piece of writing advice I’d recieved for many years was that a story can be defined as a character’s journey from wanting something to either getting it or realizing that they will never get it. When one of those things happens, then the story is over. Since I write romance, that usually means my hero and heroine are going to get that thing they want. Even if they don’t, they get something better, and, of course, they get each other. If they have each other, they can get through anything.

This is the part of the process where the magpie has most of the stuff in her nest (most of it; there will always be gathering) and now it’s time to put it all in order. I won’t lie; I wish I could get an idea and bloop, put it all on the page, exactly as is, in a set number of words per day (because, man, is that a hard Should to shed) but that’s not me. I need to splash around in the shallows, grab some of this and some of that and what-am-I-even-doing and oh-that’s-what-I’m-doing and there comes the moment when all falls in line, and yes, that’s right. Now make story.

Will do, brain. Will do.