possibly pointless blabbering

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

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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

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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.

Typing With Wet Claws: Learning Curve Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. We are closing in here on the first full week of Anty being able to use her office. So far, so good. She still has some things left to do, like see if the printer will work with her tablet (I suspect that will be noisy, if it does, so part of me hopes it does not. On the one paw, Anty would be happy that she could print things, but on the other paw, she would be able to print things. I am not yet sure what I think about this possibility.) The camera cable remains missing, so I had to put up one of my greatest hits pictures today. I will enjoy this reprieve as much as I can, because once she does have a camera cable agin, she will be back at taking pictures.

She has tried taking my picture with the tablet camera, but that did not turn out very well. Part of that is the fact that Anty has trouble with depth perception. Part of it is that Anty has trouble with technology. Part of it is that the camera is in the front of the tablet, and it is difficult for Anty to see what she is trying to photograph unless she is trying to photograph herself. Even then, she generally gets pictures where her face is very big or she only gets the top of her (or my) head. She did manage to get all of Mama’s head in one picture, but she was not trying to take a picture of Mama, and Mama did not want her picture taken, so that did not turn out well for anybody.

This coming week, Mama will be going to where we used to live, to help Grandma at the people vet. This means that I will stay home with Uncle and Anty. I am still not sure I want to go into Anty’s office, even though that is where she is spending most of her weekdays now. This is a dilemma for a kitty. On the one paw, I want to be near Anty. On the other paw, there is carpet. Did I mention that the carpet is rather me-colored? I have to take that into consideration, especially combined with Anty’s lack of depth perception. I am sure we will figure something out. For now, she is working in the office with the door open (except when Uncle is around and she really needs to concentrate; then it is closed) and hoping that I will get curious as to what she is doing in there.

I think she is curious about what she is doing in there, too, but it seems to be working so far. Some humans say it takes twenty-eight days to make a habit, other humans say it is more like sixty, and still others say that it is best to take it one day at a time. What Anty is doing is remembering the way she knows works best for her – jump in and figure it out from there, then start mushing everything into order. Mama has started asking Anty to make lists for her, which is probably a good thing. Making lists makes Anty very happy, and making sure that I could post my blog today was part of Anty’s list for the day.

Most days are starting to work something like this:  Anty has breakfast with Mama (Uncle gets up later, because he works later and goes to sleep later) and then goes into her office. She will usually do some free writing in her notebook with the vampire on the cover. This does not mean she is writing about vampires (she tried to once; it did not go well.) She likes the picture on the cover, the paper inside is smooth and has roses on the corners, and she can use a fountain pen on it. Free writing means she puts down whatever is on her mind at the time, usually two to four pages, and then she makes her list for the day.

this sign goes on the door when Anty *really* does not want to be disturbed.

this sign goes on the door when Anty *really* does not want to be disturbed.

Writing tasks have to go on the list first, as writing is her job and she has to treat it that way. She used to put things like “write” on the list, but that was too vague, so now it is more like “outline the scene in Her Last First Kiss where Heroine first meets Hero.” Now that she knows what she was missing from this story, that means she needs to rip apart the outline she already had and make a new one but it will work out better (though I do not think there are any cats in this version, either, and the dog gets a bigger part. Hmph. Maybe there will be cats in the next book.) She has her plot board and sticky notes out, so I know what she is going to do tomorrow, when Mama and Uncle are both out hunting. She is making noises about printing pictures if she can get the tablet and printer to talk to each other. It is a good thing the office is on the other end of the house.

Anty also puts down when she has to read books that she has to write about for Heroes and Heartbreakers, and sets a specific time or amount of chapters she has to read. Sometimes it takes her a little while to get into the rythym. of reading a particular story, but once she does, then she can read it faster. She likes to read fast. Reading that she has to write about counts as writing, too, so that is also important.

After that, is reading things written by humans she knows, and telling them what she thinks about it. Humans call this critiquing or beta reading. There is a difference, but it is hard to explain to kitties. Anty is currently doing that for two writers friends, and needs to send one of them something that she is writing. She should probably do that soon, before she talks herself out of it. That is what she does when she gets nervous. That is probably because she cannot fit under the bed, like I do.

Well, that is about it for this week. Anty needs to write more about the dog part, so she will need the computer back. Until next week, I remain very truly yours,

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

Until next week...

Until next week…

Juggling Chainsaws

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“Running, always you have to keep going. You need to die running.”
-Hyvon Ngetich

My morning pages today began with “I have a lot of reasons to not like this day.” It’s true. One, I am not a summer person. June is unaguably summer, though the calendar says we’re still in spring for nineteen more days. Today is gray and cool and rainy, though, so that is one thing in today’s favor. Pictures may be greatest hits for a while, unless I can master the art of the front facing tablet camera, or you may need to settle for views of what my work area is looking at (aka me) instead of the other way around. We’ll see how that goes. Domestic tornadoes continue to blow through our family, and I am adding another phrase to the ever-expanding lexicon: juggling chainsaws.

That’s what it feels like at times, one disaster or irritation (and some things can be both at the same time) piling up and me wondering how I’m going to get everything done. This weekend brought a few of those, and since my track record of getting through interesting times seems to be one hundred percent so far, I can only assume it’s going to continue, and so the best thing to do is carry on.

Those who know me well know that the only thing better than making a list is prioritizing the list, and the only thing better than prioritzing the list is checking things off the list, and the only thing better than checking things off the list is checking the last thing off the list. So, that’s how I started my day. For some things, the only way to handle them (maybe these would be the chainsaws with the safety gaurd on) is to haul out my favorite Polish proverb: Not my circus, not my monkeys, and carry on. Those are the things I can’t control, or that are somebody else’s job. Not worth my time and energy, because I am needed elsewhere. The things on my list are the things that I can make a difference on, and, thankfully, most of those have to do with writing.

After a stretch of years (longer than I would care to count) when the thing I love most, writing, was the hardest thing in the world to do, it’s good to love writing again, and that’s where I want my time and energy to go. There’s a note torn from a pocket Moleskine on my fallen bulletin boad in my getting-a-lot-more-comfortable office, that says “You’re in the factory. Make the product.” This comes to me from somebody else, through somebody else, rephrased by me, because the original thing had something about making words and “making words” puts me in a mental muscle cramp, so I don’t do that. I tell stories. Yes, because I write books and blog posts, words are involved, but the focus for me isn’t the individual words, but the stories, and the characters who live in them.

In Anne Lamott’s classic Bird by Bird, she talks about using a one inch picture frame to focus on one aspect of a big job at one time. The whole thing doesn’t matter right now, only this one thing. I find that useful, because making order out of chaos is A) something I’ve found I am suprisngly good at doing, and B) it’s fun for me. So, lists. Notebooks. Sticky notes. Even now, my blood pumps a little faster at the thought of taking down the bulletin board that’s been there for months, with the same “I don’t know what I’m doing right now” stuff tacked up on it, because, well, writers should have stuff tacked on their bulletin boards, right?

Eh, maybe. Maybe I need to look at the blank space and the order will present itself. What I do know is that the frame around my time has gone into place. From nine to five, I am at work. Today’s quote comes from Hyvon Ngetich, not a writer, but a runner. Her body gave out during the Austin marathon, with two tenths of a mile yet to go. She was offered a wheelchair by medical personnell, but refused it and crawled, yes, crawled, to the finish line on her own. She came in third. Not too shabby there, madam.

Running and I are not friends (gals who are, um, bountifully endowed, as well as non-athletic people, you know what I mean) but I admire the heck out of this woman for her perseverence. I want that. I need that. I take that. I put it in a one inch picture frame and focus on that to get the job done. Wriitng is a curious combination of fancy and practicality, which I find more curious by the day, and that only makes me want it more.

Today, I get to dip into several worlds in turn. I get to write a review of a book I got to read before it goes on sale, which already feels like a special privilege, and share why it’s awesome. I get to make concrete plans to begin work on my first collaboration in years, with a writer friend I’ve wanted to work with for over a decade. I get to push everything else aside and spend time in Georgian England with a hero and heroine I love like crazycakes, and I get to research romance novels that tap into the legendary romance of Robin Hood and Maid Marian (any favorites, guys and gals?) Not bad for a day’s work, I’d say.

See you later, because office hours have begun.

Typing With Wet Claws: Recalibration Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. We are all catching our breath here, because it was a very big week for the humans. Anty and Mama had to go to where we used to live, to see Mama’s mama, who was at the people vet. The people vet says Grandma is doing well and she does not have to wear the cone of shame. That is a big relief. Also a big relief is that a big challenge that came up this week got resolved. Anty says thank you to those who were concerned and asked how we were doing.

Even when Anty goes on the road to take care of nonwriting things, she still wants to get some writing done. She may need to make a couple more trips before things are settled-settled (or Mama may go on her own if Anty is needed here) so getting a travel version of her home office (which in itself is in flux; that is a fancy human word that means things are changey) is essential. She took both computers with her this time; her regular laptop and her tablet (which is really more kitty sized than human sized, and I could have used it to talk to her while she was gone) as well as some notebooks.

i1035 FW1.1

this one is for freewriting

Note the frames drawn around the unlined pages. Anty found that trick on a notebook website when she was not sure she could use unlined pages. Then she read the tip about drawing a box around them, and now she likes them very much. She sometimes draws boxes around lined pages and then makes a big colored band on the outside of the box. This time, it was only a box and no color, and she wrote down what she was feeling about what was going on in life. That helps keep her brain from getting jumbled, so the stories have a clear path. At least, that is how I think it works.

Anty had a new post at Heroes and Heartbreakers this week, recapping the newest episode of Outlander, “Wentworth Prison.” It is here and it looks like this:

not for young viewers

not for young viewers

Some people do not like things like the scenes Anty had to recap in this episode, but Anty says they do not make her scared. She finds them interesting, and likes to see what it is that makes humans get through tough times like the humans in Outlander do. My Anty Mary (Mama and Anty got to visit Anty Mary while they were on their trip) reminded Anty that Anty needs to get the first season of Game of Thrones, because Anty will find that very interesting. Anty would like to, and she would also like more hours in the day, but they would probably get filled with laundry and things like that.

Anty also likes when books have people go through interesting things, so she is always glad to find (and write) books where that happens. She was very happy to find some books like that in the storage unit when she went to look for something else. She has read the books on the left and right before, but wanted to have them on the shelf in her office, and she had been looking for the book in the middle for a long time. Finding it in the middle of a tough day made her day a lot better.

I was named for one of these books...

I was named for one of these books…

Now that Anty is back home, she is making lists and seeing what needs to be done to get back on track. There is some talk of a new desktop computer arriving in the not too distant future. We will have to see how that affects me. I suspect that it will be scary at first, but then I will get used to it, and Anty will do more of her writing at home. This will probably require me to make some sort of peace with the office carpet. I suppose we all have our challenges.

Until next week...

Until next week…

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

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