writing

My Mind Is A Messy Place

annabowling Leave a comment

Welp, it’s Monday. The heat wave is, thankfully, over, and I have, finally, found out how to zoom the screen so that I can see the words I’m typing without eyestrain. This was a good weekend just past. I spent the better part of Saturday, hanging out with Housemate, our friend, J, and J’s kitties, one of whom wore herself out chasing the red dot from J’s laser pointer. We talked about important things and unimportant things. There was ice cream. I faked out a cat, by not actually turning on the laser pointer, but acting as though I had. The afternoon ended all too soon. Sunday was mostly me napping, once lunch was over. I went to bed early.

I would say that I didn’t think/talk about writing much, but that’s not true. I am always thinking about writing. I should be writing, I should be writing more, I should be writing better, I should be writing something more marketable (that’s a big one) etc. That sort of stuff. There’s also the other side of the coin. I love writing, I wish I were writing, would anybody notice if I whipped out my notebook and started writing right now? What if my characters are doing something without me? What if they’re plotting? (Note: I mean amongst themselves, possibly against me, not actualy helping out with the plotting of the story, because that would be awesome if they did. Some of them do.)  My mind is a messy place.

Now, as I am seated here at the tv tray desk, keyboard on lap desk on my lap, with seasonally appropriate beverage at hand, it’s time to get down to the business of writing, which is mainly comprised, right now, of the work I meant to do last week, before the heat tsunami knocked me flat.

This morning, I set up at the kitchen counter, with my planner, washi tape, and an array of colored pens, to plan out my week. What gets done, and when? Anxiety says “all of it, and right now, but never mind. It is both urgent, and too late, bwahahaha.”  Anxiety is a jerk. That’s where planning comes into play. If I can see the big looming NEED broken down into manageable steps, that makes it not as intimidating. Realistically, I can get through all the Chasing Prince Charming stuff by the end of the week, and be ready for the “resubmit” portion of “revise and resubmit,” which will then allow Melva and I to turn our attention back to Drama King, and our own individual projects.

If we’d had a parrot with us during the moving process, and the in-between-homes phase, the first phrase he would have learned is “do the thing in front of you.”  “Pack the entire house,” for example, is far more overwhelming than “assemble this box.” Sure, “assemble this box” may be repeated elebenty billion times, but focusing on each individual box means that things do, eventually, get done.

It’s like that with writing. My idea hamster is more of a idea horse when it comes to Her Last First Kiss, and is doing the whole pawing at the ground, chomping at the bit thing, because “wow, it’s been a while” bumps right up against “about dang time,” and time and distance can, in the best of cases, provide perspective. I like perspective. I find it useful.

This month, there are no RWA meetings, because the national conference takes place in July. I am not going, but I like knowing it’s there. CT Fiction Fest is almost close enough to measure in weeks, rather than months, and the anthology release is only an eyeblink away. The August meeting of my local RWA chapter will be here before I know it, and I want my shot at winning the goals pool. I’m competitive like that.

Part of me is still salty that I didn’t sign up for Camp NaNo, because I do like the daily page goals (yes, I know I can do it on my own, but refer to competitive comment above.) We’ll see how Actual NaNo looks when we get closer to November.

For now, I have my weiner-dog-printed-shorts-clad bottom in chair, fingers on keyboard, taking care of one thing at a time. First up, look at the last new-new scene for Chasing Prince Charming, then polish my last scene for this draft. If the draft as a whole looks good (which I am sure it will) then back the book goes, for another look. That’s a little scary, and a little exciting. Sometimes, scary and exciting take turns, but, mostly, they hang out at the same time. I can deal with that.

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Typing With Wet Claws: Heat Wave Has Broken Edition

annabowling 4 Comments

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday, straight from Camp Grandma. This past week was a hot one, even for those of us without built-in fur coats. For humans like Anty and Uncle, both who are extra-sensitive to the heat (Anty more than Uncle, but it’s not a contest,) that makes getting things done extra challenging, so this will be another different sort of post. Weather permitting, things should be back to normal (or as normal as they get around here) by next week.

One thing that has not changed is that I have to talk about Anty’s writing first, before I am allowed to talk about anything else. To be fair, that anything else is usually Anty’s writing anyway (that is what a mews does) but it is my job to tell people where they can find Anty’s writing on the interwebs, besides here. As usual, Anty was at Buried Under Romance this past Saturday. That post is here, and it looks like this:

Huh. My apologies. We are having some technical difficulties with the remote connection today. I love Grandma, but she is not that great as an IT person, so you will have to click on the link above to see what Anty’s post looks like. Anty is also under a time crunch today, so I am going to charge through the rest of this post. It is summer vacation, after all.

What did not take a vacation is Anty’s Goodreads challenge. Anty has been crushing this challenge. That is partly because she did not have a lot of energy during the heat wave, and reading was, on some days, all she could handle. That is not a bad way to pass a hot day, plopped in front of the fan, with a cold sport drink, and a few good books. Sebastian is still crunching the numbers (he is kind of lazy) but, at current count, Anty has read fifty-five out of ninety books, putting her at sixty-one percent of the way to her goal. That is impressive.

Since Sebastian is still crunching the numbers (or kibble; probably kibble. I know what kibble sounds like) I will put one picture here, of one of the books Anty most especially liked this week:

Normal book review pictures and lists should return next week. Suffice it to say that Anty is doing a lot of reading, and Is very eager to talk about that reading. If you want to follow her on Goodreads, you can do that here.

Now that the heat wave is over (Sebastian tells me that there was a BIG thunderstorm yesterday, which scared the heat away) Anty is also ready to do a whole lot of writing. She is mostly over her angst regarding t he selkie naming issue, and working on the outline. This did not turn out to be a Camp NaNo month after all, but that is okay; there is still a lot of work for Anty to do.  Especially so, since she did not get a lot done during the heat wave. I do not blame her on that one, honestly.

Anyway, Anty is excited to have a few writing balls to juggle, and it is only two more months until CT Fiction Fest. If you are going to be there, so is Anty, so find her and say hello. I can see Anty making “move it along” motions over the interface, so I will type faster. That is not the easiest thing in the world, with special paws, I should mention. I should also mention that I know Anty petted other cats last week, and that she is going to see those other cats again tomorrow. Cats always know. That is okay, though, because, yesterday, the humans had a meeting about when we can expect to move to Forever Apartment, and they think we can probably do that by September. That is when Anty’s super powers come back, so I think that would be perfect timing. Until then, I will take best advantage of Grandma Rules, while here at camp. (#peanutbutterisdelicious)

This week, Anty will be going over the last edits of the revised edition of Chasing Prince Charming, working on the outline of the selkie story, and getting all her Her Last First Kiss ducks in a row. This book does not, as far as I know, contain any actual ducks, but please do not hold that against Anty. Anything can happen in a second draft.

Speaking of which, Anty also did something this week, that she has not done for a while. She okayed a proof for a new release. Anty did not write the whole book for this one; it is an anthology, but she is still excited to be able to share her part. If you have been curious about Anty’s peostapocalyptic medieval, A Heart Most Errant, you will be in luck, because her contribution to this anthology is an excerpt from that. Here is a fun fact: Anty meant to change the name of the town the heroine wants to find, but she (Anty, not the heroine) had not found a better name by the time of the submission deadline, so the town is still Ravenwood, which is also the title of the excerpt. I should probably mention that Anty only now realized that the name of the town does not actually appear in the scenes of the excerpt, but too late to fix that now.

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

skyebye2018

 

 

 

Why Did It Have to Be Selkies?

annabowling 2 Comments

When I was but a wee princess, my parents, or some well meaning family friend, gave me a book of folk tales of the British Isles. I. Loved. That. Book. I still have it, though it’s in storage right now, so I can’t refer to it, but, when I needed to pick a project to work on for July’s Camp NaNo, I landed on selkies.

Not literally. They probably wouldn’t like that very much, but, once the idea was there, it put down roots, so okay. At first, it was mermaids. There I was, on retreat with Skye, and I had my Jane Davenport Whimsical Girls book out, turned to a page with two female figures. I surveyed my color choices. The faces looked similar, so maybe two versions of the same woman? Realistic and fantasy, maybe? Human and mermaid? Ooh. What if they were half sisters?

I whipped out the appropriate medium, and let my brain do its own thing while I swooped color across the page. By itself, the story formed. It’s a historical romance, first and foremost, (not between the sisters) with some familial conflict, and it doesn’t feel so much “paranormal” as one side of the family happens to be selkies. I was thinking mermaids at first, but there is the mermaid problem, Namely, how to put this gracefully, have intimate mermaid/human relations. This would be essential, so a quick bit of searching on aforementioned folklore of the British Isles was in order.

Which brings me to the selkie problem. Not the same as the mermaid problem, because selkies seem to have it easier in the human relations department. Shed seal skin, have human form. Sorted. Selkies, in many stories, become involved with humans, reproduce, and sometimes go back to the sea. Whether or not they can take their special friend with them varies, and I’m good with that. Works out rather well for what my story people want to do, and gave me a moment of clarity on why sting named one of his albums Soul Cages.

What, exactly, you might ask, is the selkie problem? For this gal, it’s names. Naming a character is an important part of the process, and, frequently, for me, it’s more a matter of them telling me what their names are. They won’t answer to anything else. I still have an outline draft with a hero who didn’t even know his own name until the very last chapter. (I am definitely going back to that one, someday,.) What the heck does one name a selkie? What do selkies, or, in a more broader scope, mythical/legendary creatures call themselves?

Thankfully, I neglected to officially sign up for July’s Camp NaNo, so I am doing it unofficially, with my goal to figure out this whole story, and what the heck I am doing even thinking about it, because I am not a paranormal writer, and the last time I ventured into that realm, my life fell apart, and I ended up ugly crying during a critique group (that had only positive comments, by the way) in the middle of a coffee house. The ugly crying incident had nothing to do with  me moving to a different state, but it does give me a sense of security that I never have to face that barista again.

This is the part of the process where I start writing down what I know about the story, telling it to myself. Kind of folktale-y, definitely historical romance, flying into the mist sort of thing. At the same time, Melva and I are thisclose to getting Chasing Prince Charming back to the editor who invited us to revise and resubmit, then will turn our attention back to Drama King. On my own, N is not letting me squiggle out of getting back in the saddle for Her Last First Kiss  so there is no lack of things to do. So, why toss another project into the mix? \

Good question. The best answer I have at this moment is “because I can.” Consider it the writing equivalent of physical/occupational therapy. I’m glad I did my May Camp Nano the way I did, and it is still simmering, goal met, so I can figure out exactly how my couple solves their problem. What is it that makes my heroine know what she has to do? I don’t know that yet, but it will come, and likely when I am slipping into a sealskin and taking it out for a spin.

In the meantime, hit me with selkie names. I’ll take anything.

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Typing With Wet Claws: The Heat Is On Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, coming to you from Camp Grandma, for another Feline Friday. Life is still getting back to normal at the For-Now apartment, after Anty returned from retreat. The fact that there are two blogs tis week from me, and none from her may give you an idea of how things are going. Do not worry, though. Anty is busy doing writing things. She and Anty Melva are two scenes and Anty’s okay of the revised final draft of Chasing Prince Charming away from sending it back to the editor human, for another look. Anty plans to return to regular blogging this coming week, heat wave permitting.

Anty does not do very well when it Is very hot, so she will spend as much of that heat wave time as possible, indoors. Good thing for her that indoors is the perfect place to do a lot of writing, especially since Camp NaNo is starting in July, which begins on Sunday. This morning, Anty remembered that she had not signed up for Camp NaNo yet, and is still debating whether she will, but she is setting herself a goal for July, of outlining the whole story idea that he got while on her retreat with me. The whole thing. In July. No wandering off and forgetting about anything. I will keep you all posted.

Since this post is the secon in one week, and it is actually covering two weeks, it will be a little different than the usual post. Please pardon our dust. The fur tumbleweeds are my sheds. They are an occupational hazard of having a Maine Coon around. Shedding: it’s what we do. What anty does (did you like my smooth segue?) is write, and here are the places on the interwebs (besides here) that you can find Anty’s writing  this week:

As always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance for the past two Saturdays. You get one guess where she will be on this coming Saturday. Did you guess Buried Under Romance? If so, you are very smart. The last two weeks were here, and here, Since Anty accidentally deleted the images for those posts, instead, I will give you the image for her upcoming post. What do you think she will be talking about this coming week? Visit BuriedUnderRomance.Com on Saturday morning, after seven, to find out.

 

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Whatever could this mean?

This is the part of the post where I tell you how Anty is doing on her Goodreads challenge. If you would like to follow her on that, click the link above, or come back here each week for continuing updates. Because things have been crazy over here, Anty has not always been able to record everything as soon as she would like to, so that means, sometimes, that things fall through the cracks. Keeping current with her Goodreads challenge is one of those things. That means we are still crunching some numbers here, and we are burning daylight on the time we have for this blog post, so I will hit you with the stats so far (that is a figure of speech. I will not really hit you. That would be mean, especially because I have claws.) and feature two of Anty’s favorite reads from the past two weeks.

As of right now, Anty has read fifty-two out of ninety books. That puts her at fifty-eight percent of the way to her goal, and eight books ahead of schedule. Very good job, Anty. Keep at it. Maybe add some more historical romances to the mix. Maybe some older titles or indie releases. There is a lot out there.

Two of Anty’s favorites for the past two weeks have been:

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The Art of Inheriting Secrets           Barbara O’Neal

 

Even though neither of these two books is a genre romance novel, both have love stories in them, that end happily/optimistically, and one even has a secondary love story that looks tragic, but, by the end, maybe it is not. Miss Barbara’s book has some strong historical elements in its modern day story, which is not surprising, because Miss Barbara also writes historical romance. Anty would be very, very happy if Miss Barbara wrote historical romances connected to this book. That is a hint, Miss Barbara, thankyouplease.

In the meantime, Anty has plenty to read, especially now that Mama taught her how to use Overdrive. I think Mama may have created a monster. I do not mind, though, because that means Anty will have plenty to read, the next time she comes to visit me. Umcle says fall looks good for Forever Apartment time, and we are working towards that. I do not know what all Anty and Uncle and Mama are going to bring to Forever Apartment, when we get it, but I know that it will not be the bed that Mama put together for Anty and Uncle before Anty’s retreat. I am told it looked very nice, and was safe for Anty and Uncle the very first night, but, when Anty came home from retreat, this is what she found:

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No kitties were harmed In any of this, but Uncle was in the bed, by himself, when it stopped being a bed. Uncle says that was not fun. He had some bruises but was otherwise okay. Guess the humans are getting the old bed out of storage, after all, but not during the heat wave.

Heat wave time is for sticking close to fans or air conditioning, and writing stuff. Some people have encouraged Anty to go ahead with the pen and paper related blog, and she is thinking hard about that, but writing books has to come first.

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

SkyeByeTemp

 

 

 

 

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Post-Retreat Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for a very special Maine Coon Monday. If you are wondering where I was for Feline Friday this past week, (besides Camp Grandma, of course) I was in time out. I have never been in time out before, so that was a new experience, but more about that later.

Anty and I have had an eventful retreat, and I am here to give the cat’s eye view of what went down. Besides Anty, that is. She pretty much slept the whole first day, which was really the first afternoon, because Mama and Grandma did not leave until after lunch. I did not mind. In fact, I took advantage of Anty’s nap, to sneak in a ninja cuddle. That is when there is a human asleep on the floor (it does not happen very often, because humans generally sleep on furniture, but Anty was really tired)  and I sneak over and lie down so close that we are touching. If they wake, then I get startled and run away, then come back. This time, I did not run away, but Anty only  kind of halfway woke, and gave me head scritches, so I I would say that worked out pretty well. I snuck in a few more ninja cuddles, because I am smart like that.

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Anty’s Plan

This picture shows Anty’s plan for the week. Since Camp Grandma does not have interwebs, Anty could not be distracted by things like Facebook and Netflix and games. As it turned out, that plan worked pretty well. Anty read three whole books over the four days of retreat (not the one pictured, but I will give a full rundown of all books read, on my regular Friday post) and wrote a total of twenty eight regular notebook sized pages. That is to say, not the mini legal pads she had intended to use (but she will use those soon enough; Anty loves mini legal pads. Also the big ones, but they have to be pretty.) She also did not use those particular pens, but she did use all of the ink that had been in four of her previous travel ballpoints, so she really did need new pens. Add in morning pages (always three) and evening pages (not every night, but most of them) and what do you think happened?

What happened was that, when Anty wasn’t even thinking about it, bloop, there was the idea for her next Camp NaNo story. The one from May is still cooking. Anty did a lot of brain dumping, and then, bloop. She’s off and running. Since one of the days of retreat, Anty had lunch with Anty Melva, they got to talk about Chasing Prince Charming, and only have a couple of things to do, before they can send the book back to the editor for another look. They also talked about things they want to do for Drama King, and, when things calm down in their personal lives, about a nonfiction project they think would be fun.

Besides the books with Anty Melva, Anty’s main focus is to get the second draft of Her Last First Kiss ready to roll. I will let Anty tell you about what she plans for the Camp NaNo story, but it is both a nice change of pace, and going back to her roots, so it should be fun. Anty likes to stay busy writing, so writing time is now officially a priority.  Part of that involved setting up the desktop computer when she got back from retreat. Right now, it is not on a desk, but on a TV tray. The CPU is on top of a filing cabinet (Anty is still looking for pretty hanging folders for that cabinet, so if you know where to find some, drop a link in the comment box.) So far, so good. Writing on the desktop is much easier than on the laptop or phone.

The rest of it is really Anty’s to tell, but you are probably wondering why I did not post on Feline Friday (apart from the fact that it was Anty’s travel day.)  Anty says that I am still a very good kitty, and would like to point out that I have never, in my entire life, gone after people food, before I went to camp. During the retreat, I went for people food, twice. The first time, Anty took the sandwich away from me before I could actually put my face on it, but the second time, she left her rice cake with peanut butter on it, where I could get it, and, well, I got it. Anty chased ne away from the dish and reminded me that I am a kitty and am not supposed to eat people food. Grandma’s house, Grandma’s rules, though, right? Anty took the rice cake away, but I kept licking the peanut butter from my mouth. I can see why she likes peanut butter as much as she does.

The other thing that capped my time out was the jailbreak. Anty had slept on the couch, and came to my room to give me breakfast, but – plot twist- I was not in my room. The door was open. I was in the room across the carpeted hall, where I had, um, made some stuff.  Anty put me back in my room, then cleaned up the stuff. Speaking of which, Grandma and I have reached an accord on the stuff place business, which is a relief to everybody. Pun intended.

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

SkyeByeTemp

Typing With Wet Claws: Retreat Preparations Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday, from Camp Grandma. This upcoming week will be an exciting one, because when the Grandma’s away, the kitty will play…with Anty! Mama is taking Grandma to visit with some friends, and so Anty will come and stay with me, while they are gone. We are not quite ready for Forever Apartment, but I have missed having Anty every day, so this is the next best thing. Anty is calling it a “retreat,” because A) she will be away from home, B) Grandma does not have interwebs, so Anty cannot be distracted by things like Facebook and TV Tropes, and  that kind of thing. More on that later.

The rule of Anty letting me blog for her on Fridays, is that I need to talk about Anty’s writing, before I can talk about anything else (though it is usually Anty’s writing, anyway) so I will do that now. As usual, Anty was at Buried Under Romance, this past Saturday, talking about wedding season. In romance novels, that is every season. That post is here, and it looks like this:

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Anty also writes quite a bit about the books she has read, so I will now check in on Anty’s Goodreads Challenge.   .  Anty is doing very well this week. At forty-two books read, out of ninety, sbe is forty-seven percent of the way to her goal, and two books ahead of schedule. This week, she read three books, with one of them historical romance. Keep going, Anty. You are doing grate. Um, great. Here are the books Anty read this week:

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All Of This Is True, by Lygia Kay Penaflor

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Whimsical Girls, by Jane Davenport

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Winter’s Heat, by Denise Domning

Domning Nation will continue during the retreat, as Anty has all of Miss Denise’s books in the Graistan series on her Kindle. Anty is also bringing Miss Jane’s book, and some art supplies, largely from Miss Jane’s line, with her on the retreat. I highly approve of this, as I very much like watching Anty both read and make art. I have heard that other kitties like to help their humans make art, but I prefer to watch. I prefer my fur to remain paint-free. If Anty has movies on her laptop, or if she can bring the portable DVD player, then she can sit on the floor with me, and we can watch movies together. Maybe she will even find a way to download that classic suspense film, Koi In Their Winter Tank. I still do not know where Orange Fishy goes I thought for sure it was behind the computer, but no. This bears multiple re-watchings.

This past Tuesday, Anty and Miss N had their usual weekly breakfast and writing talk together, although it turned into a special day, because Uncle had to go to the people vet yet again, and then that people vet sent him to a smarter people vet, who knows human paws better than regular people vets do. Smarter People Vet told Uncle to come back next week, so they can look even closer at what is making his paws hurt. Anty cannot go with him, because she will be with me, so we will both have to send our love beams remotely. I will show Anty how.

In case any of you are worried that Anty will be too lonely for human company during her retreat, there is no need. She and Anty Melva will spend some time together, so that they can work on the changes needed for Chasing Prince Charming, and get that off to the publisher who wants to look at it again, as soon as possible. Tben, they can get back to working on Drama King, which they both think is marvelous fun. I like it because there is an important character in that book, who is a kitty. Can I have a book boyfriend, even though I am fixed? (#TeamClawed) Uncle is still the love of my life, though. He is my favorite, and I love him the most. Anty says that Uncle will make me a new movie, for this visit, and we can watch it any time I want. I hope she will remember she said that, if I wake her in the middle of the night so we can watch it. Because I will.

Anty tells me not to expect too much on the first day of the retreat, because she is probably going to sleep for most of it. Um, Anty. I am a kitty. I will never criticize anybody for taking a lot of naps. There will be reading along with the sleeping, though I do not know how much of either. We will see when Anty gets here. The main part of the retreat, once Anty has a few feet of water in her well, is for Anty to jump back into writing historical romance again. Sometimes, a writer needs to reconnect with their genre, and that is what Anty is hoping to accomplish with this retreat.

It has been a crazy few months, and camp will probably last until September, but that is when Anty’s  super powers come back, so maybe that is good timing. In the meantime, I plan to get a whole lot of mew-sing done on this retreat, so I can send Anty back to For-Now Apartment, ready to get some historical romance out there.

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

SkyeByeTemp

An Unexpected Writing Retreat Appears

annabowling 3 Comments

Funny how things work in the writing life. I will skip over the family life details and get right to the pertinent part. This upcoming week, I get an unexpected writing retreat, as I get to join Skye at Camp Grandma for the better part of next week. One interesting thing about Camp Grandma is that it does not have internet, so I will be mostly off the grid for days at a time. Oddly enough, my first concern was for the pets in my Sims Free Play game, but I will be connecting with at least one friend in the area, for lunch and an internet fix, so cyberpets should be fine, while I focus on the in-person, fuzzy one.

Though time away from Real Life Romance Hero has not been high on my list (especially when there is people vet tie involved) the idea of time spent with my story people, without the  lure of Facebook, Google, and all the rest, is pretty exciting. Not going to lie, the first day will likely be spent taking cat naps near an actual cat, and I am bringing a good supply of books, art supplies, and the charger for my Kindle, because part of this retreat is going to be one heck of a well-filling session. I need it. I have been in the empty, and I have been in whatever it is that lie beneath the empty. Not every day, but there have been some doozies, and the prospect of hanging out with my mews and concentrating on nothing but sending stuff down to the girls in the basement, so they can play with books and movies and sparkly pens and pretty papers and all that, then send some good story stuff back up to me.

Laptop and lap desk are coming, too, as are notebooks and pens, and at least one legal pad. Yes, there will be lists and bujo spreads about what I want to bring on this retreat, because this will not be the only such instance in my lifetime. Retreats won’t always mean Camp Grandma (especially when we are in Forever Apartment, and Skye is with us every day) but the thought of a whole chunk of days, where there is nothing to do but concentrate on story, both the writing and reading of same, that’s too good to keep to a one time deal.

I have never been on a “real” writer’s retreat, as in pay money, go to lovely, picturesque place in the mountains/by the shore/etc, where there are other writers for socialization, brainstorming, and talking about the writing life. Not that I am opposed to that kind of thing, but, as of yet, that has not been possible. On the other hand, the last time I went on this sort of retreat, I apartment/dogsat for musician friends, and, at their kitchen table, two rescue dogs standing by, I wrote what would be the beginnings of Orphans in the Storm.There’s a precedent here, and I like that.

Being an extrovert, the internet is great. A whole world of people, only keystrokes away, 24/7, and special groups for people who like things I like? Godsend. Also distraction. I’ve been thinking about trimming down my Facebook feed, to cut down on extraneous noise. Once again, it’s clean slate, more layers, and I am looking forward to that. I don’t have page count goals (but let’s say more than two) or concrete plans on what scene in what project will get the bulk of my writing focus, but the thing I do know is that there will be something. There will be fiction.

Over the last few months, with the move, and some health challenges for RLRH, and assorted happenings, I have done a lot of free writing in various notebooks, in various places. Laundromats, motel rooms, friends’ apartments, fast food places and coffee shops, waiting rooms (oh so many waiting rooms) and, as much as I am grateful for those times, and all the pages I have filled with the stuff inside my head, fiction is still my first love Especially romance .Especially historical. That has taken a back seat to other concerns, but, when I first knew this retreat was going to happen, my heart skipped.

Yes This. Take in some good stuff. Put some good stuff back out. Play with the kitty. Nap on the sofa. Hang out with a writer friend, when there is no time one of us has to dash off and handle domestic concerns. A few days is a good stretch of time. Respite. Palate cleanse. Catch breath. Gain strength. Regain sea legs, as it were. Try new things, and revisit old loves, to give them new life. Let them give me new life, in return.

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We Have a Desktop…Now What?

annabowling Leave a comment

There is, technically, a desktop computer in the house. Setting it up is farther down on my list for the day, but I am eyeing the TV tray (still the only one of its kind in the Stately Bowling Manor summer quarters.) The inner editor is strong today, but the crackle of energy that comes with having my machine back is stronger. Inner editor can go stuff herself, because I am tired of her bullpoop.

This past Saturday, I attended my local RWA chapter meeting (CR-RWA) and had a chat with the lovely and talented Eden Mabee, on a couple of topics. First, was a discussion of  where new romance readers, and writers, might come from, and then, as another friend joined the conversation, about the books that got us into romance reading in the first place Historical romance, in particular. At some point, I mentioned that I have not only a TBR list (actually that is only codified in Goodreads. I am not sure I possess enough notebooks to write down every book I want to read, but a To Be Re-Read list, and a To Finally Read list. As I’ve gone through the turbo move, I’ve found myself skittering around the edges of both, though I checked off my second TBFR title this weekend…after first reading a duology by the same author, that had nothing to do with the book on the TBFR list. The book on the list actually starts off a quintology, with the author now writing books about the next generation of the family covered in the first five books. I am a sucker for generational sagas. Hero and Heroine of book one as parents of hero or heroine in a subsequent book? :makes grabby hands: See them again as grandparents, later on? Yes. Give. Me. That. Not to put pressure on this author for a third generation, when she’s already started on the second, and I have only dipped my toes in the first, but this falls in with you don’t ask, you don’t get.

Eden suggested that I might consider putting those lists on my site, which I will be doing, and maybe think about writing a post on my most re-read novels. I am all over that.  The idea of picking a top five floated around for a while. I want some more time on that, though I could name the top two, maybe three, right off the top of my head, no problem, no hesitation. I’m not  re-reading anything right now, though I am reading two authors I’ve been meaning to read for literally years. Double digit years, in one case Maybe both.

While I was at CR-RWA, Housemate went to the storage unit, and unearthed, among other things, my desktop computer and my box of desk babies, those special pens and notebooks that lived on my desk in the old apartment. Cue little kid on Christmas morning feeling. Pens, pens, beautiful pens. Hello, notebooks. I sifted through the boxes within the box, to make sure everybody was okay (yes, my pens are “everybody,” not “everything”) and heaved a sigh of relief when I ascertained that they were, in fact, all fine I am certain the same thing will happen when I bust the desktop out of its cardboard prison. In the past, when I’ve come back from a period of not having computer access, I’ve described it as like finally getting my voice back. This time,  and I don’t know precisely why yet, I would say it’s my hands.

Maybe that’s because of Real Life Romance Hero’s recent battles with his own extremities. Maybe it’s because I use my hands when I use both computer and pen and paper. Maybe there’s some other reason, but, this time, it’s hands. Fine by me. Hands do a lot of the work of writing, or a lot of the work of writing that involves getting the story in a form where others can read it . Important, that. I am not opposed to a good old-fashioned storyteller/bard kind of setup, and anybody who has known me for more than five minutes knows that I can talk pretty much forever, especially if there are stories involved, but there’s something in actually reading the written word, and in actually writing it, as well, that doesn’t come through any other means.

Maybe it’s because there is something therapeutic in whipping out the utility scissors and slicing through the packing tape, then opening the cardboard flaps, and uncovering what has been hidden away for far too long.

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Typing With Wet Claws: Visit Recap Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday, direct from Camp Grandma The humans are still working on Forever Apartment, but having Anty and Mama visit made it a lot easier for all of us. Well, maybe not for Uncle, who had to go to the people vet right when Anty and Mama had to get on the road Anty was nervous about that, but he was in a big building full of people vets, with good medicines, and he is okay now. He had Anty record him giving me a special message, which I greatly appreciated. Watching the Uncle movie was my favorite part of the whole visit. That does not surprise anybody, because Uncle is my favorite, and I love him the most.

Before I talk about anything else, though I have to talk first about Anty’s writing. Writing has been interesting, to say the least, especially with a remote mews (Sebastian does his best) but, in keeping with Anty’s topic for her workshop (I am getting to that) all these real life plot twists only make her want it more. That is why Anty sat up late into the night in the motel, writing her Buried Under Romance post for the week. Word of caution: she was super stressed and had not slept a lot, so if she seems more loopy than usual, that is why. That post is here, and it looks like this:

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Anty never got under the covers in that particular motel, so that picture is not exactly accurate (she is not a pug, either, but you probably knew that) but that is very close to how she felt.

As far as Anty’s reading goes, there was not a lot of time for reading this past week, but she intends to make up for it in this coming week, because she has eight books out of the library at one time. Eight. I have faith in you, Anty. Sebastian, you may need to get in her lap and settle, to make sure she reads them all. This week’s book was The Marriage Spell, by Mary Jo Putney Anty helped Mama figure out which of Miss Mary Jo’s books Mama had not yet read, so now Anty is reading some of them, too. That very much counts toward Anty’s Goodreads challenge, and it is also historical romance. That review is here, and it looks like this:

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Now, it is time to talk about Anty’s workshop at Charter Oak Romance Writers. Anty Melva tried very hard to be able to make the meeting, because they both created the workshop together, but it was not possible for Anty Melva to be in two places at once, so Anty went by herself. Because “Save the Writer, Save the Book,” talks about writing while life is maybe not so fun, it is actually appropriate that there were a lot of complications along the way to presenting it for the very first time.

Anty had been worried she did not have enough time to prepare handouts ahead of time and she did not know how many to make, but that turned out okay, which also fits with the theme of the workshop. Anty worked very hard to get her and Anty Melva’s notes compiled, and wanted to write out topics on index cards, because that is helpful for her, but, after getting Uncle settled at the people vet, getting on the road late, realizing, only when she was actually in the motel, that she had not, in fact, packed pajamas (what she had packed was dirty laundry) and still needing to get the Buried Under Romance post up, she did not have the time or energy for that, and figured she would wing it, with the notes on her phone as backup. Anty is pretty good at winging things like this, and romance writers are generally a forgiving lot.

That worked out in Anty’s favor, because, when she got there, it was an intimate group, and Anty already knew everybody there. They all thought that all the real life plot twists did prove Anty and Anty Melva’s points, and the fact that Anty could write two books in the middle of so many challenges was pretty badass. Then the group took Anty out to lunch, where there was much talk of books (I am told phones came out and library books got reserved right there at the table, in front of the lasagna and everything) and also of cats, which I think is a perfectly fine topic of conversation.

This brings me to the most important part of today’s post: the visit recap. I knew right away that something was special about this weekend, and not only because Grandma told me. By the time Anty and Mama got to the door of my room, I was right at that door, waiting for them. I was So Happy, you would not believe it. My humans! Anty got right down on the floor with me, and we made squeezy eyes at each other (I started it.) Then I asked Anty to give me a treat, and she did. That is not the best part, though. The best part is when Anty took out her phone (no, not to play my mousie game. Camp Grandma does no have wifi) and showed me a movie, starring Uncle! He told me he loved me and slow blinked and me and slow blinked. I looked toward the door, but nope, he was only in the glowy box. Oh well. We will all be together every day, soon.

Visitor’s weekend was a special one. Anty stayed with me after her meeting on Saturday, while Mama and Grandma went out to do Grandma’s birthday things. I got lots of treats, and lots of scritches, and Anty sang me my special nonsense song, and even tried to get me interested in a couple of toys. I would rather play with humans than with toys, but, when Anty brought out that jingly green ball, I made shifty paws. That means I am excited. When Mama came back, Anty thought I might like it even move if I could see Anty and Mama hit the ball back and forth ,and she was right. It was So Exciting, I could not keep my paws still. I suspect that I might be able to bop the ball with my paws, when I get brave enough. Maybe in Forever Apartment. Anty says it will not be long until then, and, that, once I figure out how to play with the ball, I will want to make up for lost time, and will bat it everywhere, at all hours of the night.

That is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

SkyeByeTemp

 

Writing in the Aftermath

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Disclaimer: This is the computer I am currently using, though not the room in which I am using it. Usually. This is the setup for my weekly Skype session with Melva Michaelian, to go over our weekly assignments for the Chasing Prince Charming revise and resubmit request. Right now, I am on my back, on Housemate’s air mattress, lap desk on my chest, fuzzy cow pint blanket over me, because today did not get the memo that it is June now (I do not mind this) and I have lost track of the number of cups of tea I have downed today, in an effort to stay awake. Real Life Romance Hero is puttering in the kitchen behind me, so imagine the sounds of potato chip fragments rattling in their can as you read this.

Friday afternoon, on our way out of town, Housemate and I had to drop Real Life  Romance Hero at the hospital (we stayed with him until the doctor arrived) then packed in a hurry and got on the road. Please note the packed in a hurry part, as it will be important later. I remembered, when we’d been on the road exactly long enough to rule out turning back, that I had forgotten the new lipstick I had bought especially for the occasion. First world problems for sure, but it was also a portent of the way things would go. When we got to the motel, two hours later than expected, I discovered that I had not, in fact, packed my pajamas. What I had packed was the dirty laundry, which was mostly t-shirts. I could not sleep in my travel outfit, because the skirt from said  outfit had dipped into a bathroom fixture that should never have a skirt in it, and I was not about to sleep in my outfit for the next day, so I did what any rational person who has skin sensitivities around unfamiliar linen would do. I lined up the least dirty t-shirt for the length of my body, used my jacket as a cover, and went for those three hours of sleep like a boss that I am.

The next morning, I hopped in the shower, excited to revisit my first ever RWA chapter, this time as an invited guest speaker. Shower, moisturize, apply product to hair, turn on motel-provided hair dryer…I said turn on motel-provided hair dryer. Is this thing pliugged in? Uh huh. Correct buttons pushed on everything? Looks like. Allrighty then, we are having interesting hair today. Fits the topic, and may even count as a visual aid, especially since all the real life plot twists of the day before meant that I did not have my taking points on index cards, and  would have to be that person, who reads their notes fro their phone. This becomes extra challenging for those of us with eyeglass prescriptions that need serious updating.

I arrived at the meeting place to find e had an intimate group. Six, including me. Since we all knew each other anyway, I dispensed with the bios and inroductions, and got right to the meat of the matter. A lively discussion ensued, followed by an excellent lunch (did you know chicken alfredo lasagna is a thing? Because it is. A delicious, delicious thing.) in good company. Not a bad outcome for the weeks of nervousness and preparantion. As I’d thought, when it was time for the presentation, I did fine. I know the subject, and the delays and detours of that weekend, down to the non-functioning hair dryer and absent co-presnter, served to illustrate my point.

The writing life is not an easy one, and there are times when it seems that the whole of creation is set on keeping us from creating. yet here we are, still doing it. We turn a utility closet, TV tray and folding chair into an impromptu office. We  tap out new chapters a letter at a time on our phones, when that’s our only option. We carry pen and paper  because they never crash, even when we do. We lie on our backs with lap desks on our chests, if we have to, and do the same job as when we’re nestled in a comfy office chair, behind a desktop, at desks that have been in the family longer than we have.

Right now, the weekend is a memory. RLRH is home, and will be going back to work tomorrow, one diagnosis and change in medication and lifestyle later. Skye is doing well at Camp Grandma, and this visitors’ weekend only strengthened our resolve to have her back home ASAP. It also gave that extra push to get the current WIPa from WIP o new release. What this weekend showed me most was that I am in this. Even with the real life plot twits, there’s a fair amount of writing going on, which may or may not need to be rewarded with a few new bujo supplies and a few good books.

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