Beth Overmyer

Pick a Little, Talk a Little

2012-01-29T17:04:00.001-08:00

Since I'm not reading enough (ha ha) I added The Woman in White to my proverbial nightstand... five days ago. I'm about 75% through, and I already am calling it one of my favorite books. It has romance (not much), mystery, adventure, suspense, believable characters, likeable characters, hateable characters, and a neatly woven plot. I'm appreciating it as an artist, but mostly (as it should be) as a reader.

Now, to convince my home theater to put on the stage version of it (written by the author himself.) Or... to endeavor once again to secure a directing position elsewhere*. Those are the questions. I still want to direct Little Women (I found a fab script), but again, no theater. I thought my theatre days were over. Maybe they are. *shrug*

Oh, this is a writing blog. Silly me :P

I haven't been writing too much lately. As you can see from the progress widget in the sidebar, I've managed to surpass 4k on "Blink in, Blink out." Yay me *\o/* I am taking another short break from it all. This break has lasted for a few days. Am I worried? No. Am I itching to write? Not right now. Am I craving chocolate? You'd know something was wrong if I wasn't ;)

Well (or WQuell, as I first typed), I think that's it for now. Just thought I'd let you know that I have not died, but still have the write to remain silent ;)

Ciao!

Bethy
___
*Long, frustrating story

Buzzzzzzz

2012-01-20T15:32:00.000-08:00

Last night I signed up for Holly Lisle's Free Plot Outline Course. I've already done the first lesson. Woot! I can't wait for the second one :)

Not only do I have a beginning and know how the book ends, I have fifty-three different scene ideas. So excited. Too bad you can only use PayPal for the courses that charge. You have to have a credit card to have a PayPal account. For different reasons, I don't have a credit card, nor will I be getting one any time soon. Bummer :/

Oh, and I've read two books so far this year: "Ivanhoe" and "Sugar Rush." Am currently reading "11/22/63" (still) and "While You are Sleeping."

Busy, busy, busy O:)

Bee!

Reading and Writing My Butt off... Oh My!

2012-01-14T23:03:00.001-08:00

See what I did there?

'Hem.

Anyway...

I'm now reading 11/22/63 by Stephen King, Shakespeare's poems and sonnets, Ivanhoe, and Sugar Rush by Kimber An. My brain is fried (I first typed "fired." My brain is fired!)

Also, I've been plotting. I love new ideas! But seriously, stop dropping in randomly and demanding attention. Sheesh.

I'm still trying to be patient with myself. Crappy 1st drafts are a MUST. Plotting is GOOD. Attempting to publish after thirty is A VERY GOOD IDEA. I'll have less than three years, but that gives me more time to focus on, you know, the actual writing part. Then, when I reach thirty, I'll probably change it to thirty-five, and so on and so forth. Hey, I know there was an author who wasn't published until their 60s or 70s... or 80s. I cannot recall.

*bats eyelashes*

Buh-bye, Bill!

Snappy New Year

2012-01-01T21:56:00.000-08:00

Listening to: Breaking Dawn soundtrack (Hey, the movies may stink, but the music is awesome)
Reading: 11/22/63 by Stephen King, and Shakespeare's poems and sonnets
Words written so far in 2012: 530-ish (I can't remember the number)
Eating: A bagel with cream cheese and Garlic Garlic (Tastefully Simple--YUM!)

The Disorderlies is closing in on four-thousand words. Woot-woot! And I actually like the opening.

That is all.

'Night.

Q&A... of Sorts

2011-12-09T21:59:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am still a writer.

Yes, I am still taking it easy.

It's been a while since I've posted here (no duh.) Things are still going to remain pretty quiet for goodness knows how long. Just know that I am still writing, I am still working on Life...

Yep. That about sums it up. Cheese dip, anyone?

As the French Say...

2011-10-09T20:51:00.000-07:00

I've been restless in my soul lately. Writing hasn't been helping that.

I need some time to experience life and not worry about passive voice and how-in-the-world-will-I-ever-get-published. I might jot down the occasional this and that, and I might get on fire and try writing again next week. But I think not. (I don't want to burn any bridges/contradict myself, etc.)

If you want to see what I'm up to, check out http://bethmeetworld.blogspot.com

This blog will probably remain quiet for awhile. Thanks for being so much fun, people. I'm not going to delete bethovermyer. You never know when I'll think of something oh-so-witty and writerly to say.

Ciao, bellas. You're awesome.

Beth

This Post Isn't About Scottish Pirates

2011-10-02T05:12:00.001-07:00

Arrr accck. It be October, laddies...

/talking like a Scottish pirate.

So, last month's goals. *sound of something heavy falling from a great height* Yeah, things didn't work out so well. But that's all right. *puts on "I am woman, hear me roar!" face*

RAWR!

Should I set goals for this month? I'm torn. Even as I blog this thing I haven't decided. Well, maybe I have. Okay, here are some goals that are FLEXIBLE. They're as flexible as... well, more flexible than I am. (Though I used to be able to do the splits, but that's for another post.)

GOALS OF OCTOBER:

- Finish reading Artemis Fowl
- Read one other book
- Finish mountain of laundry (AVALANCHE!)
- Outline the new shiny, aka Salem Revisited
- Write 1k on DED: God Machine

Hmm. I wonder if that's enough or too much. Oh well. We shall see B)

'Til next time.

Ciao!

Slacker

2011-09-25T02:32:00.001-07:00

-Write 15k new words
-Do 5 crits
-Finish Game of Thrones
-Read two other books

Yeeks.

This is what HAS happened:

-Wrote 600 words
-Did 0 crits
-Finished A Game of Thrones
-Read two other books (and got halfway through two others)

Not too shabby, but I'm bummed about the wordage... or rather, the lack thereof. Ah well. There are five days of the month left :-P

Theme Music

2011-09-19T01:07:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else have theme music? A soundtrack for their life? Please tell me I'm not alone in this!

Right now, Let That be Enough by Switchfoot is my main theme song. I know, I know, not very "Here she comes to seize the day!" music, but it's fitting for a person who is stuck in their journey.

Then there's my writer theme music, the music that reflects me as a writer. Hot and Cold by Katy Perry. Yeah. I totally fall in and out of love with writing/my manuscripts/etc.

Mood music:

Defiant - Have a Nice Day by Bon Jovi. Once someone was bossing me around. After smiling and nodding, I took off and listened to this in the car. Yeah, I was singing along at the top of my lungs ;) It also works well for rejections!

Oh, another one for defiant: Uprising by Muse

Melancholy - Superman by Five for Fighting, Wave Goodbye by Steadman.

There are prolly others, but I am now too lazy to look them up :p
___
How about you? What are YOUR theme songs? Do you have a life soundtrack?

An Early Farewell to Summer

2011-09-08T02:38:00.001-07:00

O Summer
Oh how I shall I miss thee!

I shall miss thy scorching kiss that pinks my cheeks and makes me break out in hot, watery bubbles.

I shall miss having my clothes plaster themselves to mine body, tanged with the reek of sweat that smells of Taco Bell.

I shall miss the sleepless nights where mine mother thought it cool enough to turn off the conditioner of air... and it was not.

I shall miss the awkward array of clothing that is made for twigs and not a full-grown oak.

O Summer
How shall I miss thee!

...

Or not. Still waaaaaay better than winter, though.

Long live Early Autumn and her sister Spring! Death to Winter! Temps in the mid 60s and early 70s! Apple cider! Pumpkins! Halloween! My birthday! Huzzah!

Shelving and Ramblings

2011-09-06T04:31:00.000-07:00

I wasn't 100%, so I did some research:

According to a few resources (none of them I'm betting my life on), YA (Young Adult) books are targeted at the 14-21 age range. /resource info

YA themes tend to or do revolve around younger protags with younger voice. What's appropriate subject matter is open for debate. Am I right (or crazy)?

But let me lay this at your door:

My local library shelved A Game of Thrones... in the YA section.

For those of you who haven't read George R. R. Martin's rather thick tome o' fantasy: It deals with some POV characters that are younger, but the book includes (a far amount of) sex, rape, language (F, S, C... you get the picture), and some semi-gross battle scenes.

I personally loved the book, but I don't know what I think of it being in the YA section. Granted, most of the teens at 14 have heard (or at least THINK they have heard) it all. Then there's sheltered children, like I was.

What are your thoughts? Does it matter? What of Lord of the Rings? Should that be YA?
_____
I talked to a librarian in Tech services. She says that YA is 17-25 or 30 (I can't remember exactly what she said.) Below that is Junior Fiction(?). Huh.

Windbag

2011-09-05T19:24:00.000-07:00

Music: Twilight mix tape (I'd rather be listening to Dr. Horrible, but he's lost somewhere in my supermassive mound of CDs)

Writing: Deus Experimental Division: God Machine... sort of. I haven't actually written anything this month :-/

Mood: Tense and still a little ticked off from an incident a few days ago

It's the thing I hate about the Internet. No one can read anyone's tone with 100% accuracy. I could be saying "Hey, dude!" and what you hear is "Hi, _____! How are you?" and what I really mean is "Dude, what are you DOING? Back off."

Not that I would actually do the latter--however sorely tempted. I know context in a situation helps, but if you're biased from the Hello and unable to be objective, what good will context do you?

A little background on me: I was raised to believe that "Shut up" was the equivalent of "F you," before I even knew what the F-word was. Yeah, "shut up" just wasn't said under our roof.

Imagine innocent lil' ol' me when in a stressful situation someone snaps at me to "Shut up." In my mind at the time, he might as well have said, "No one wants to hear you talk, b-tch." Now that I'm older and (hopefully) a little wiser, it wouldn't hurt me as much. Honestly, though? Words still hurt.

Now back to context.

If we had been joking around in a light situation, and X had told me in a playful tone to shut up, I might have laughed it off. But his tone was clearly PO'd, and the situation was a tense one.

Then we have the world wide web, where trolls abound as do misunderstandings. You might say one thing, mean it one way, but if I look back at what you've just said, I take it the total opposite.

There are two solutions: people, try to think before you type. Could the person I'm talking to read this wrong? Am I being clear enough? And Beth, yes you, stop taking things so personally.

September Goals

2011-09-01T17:01:00.000-07:00

-Write 15k new words
-Do 5 crits
-Finish Game of Thrones
-Read two other books

To me, these goals are lofty. We'll see how I do.

Wish me luck!

The Write Life

2011-08-21T03:08:00.000-07:00

As a writer, I am bound to the following oath:

I solemnly swear that I shall tell the whole truth, nothing but small embellishments of the truth, and the occasional over-inflated memoir.

I pledge my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater romance stories, my hands to faster typing, and my health... well, we'll find a way to slip that in there somewhere... For my books, my short stories, my readers, and Bilbo.

I'm a writer, but I can edit, if I have to... I guess.

I have the right to remain silent. Anything I write can and will be used against me in a court of my peers.

And lastly, but not leastly:

I hold this truth to be self-evident: that all stories do not require a sequel.

So let be written. So let it be done.

Books Read as of 8/8/2011

2011-08-08T01:16:00.000-07:00

Here are all the books I've read thus far in 2011:

1. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
2. I, Robot
3. The Missing: Found
4. The Boneshaker
5. The Count of Monte Cristo
6. Holes
7. The Hunger Games
8. To Kill a Mocking Bird
9. Storm Front
10. Blameless
11. The Missing: Sent
12. Hush, Hush
13. Ella Enchanted
14. The Penderwicks
15. Catching Fire
16. Mockingjay
17. Crescendo
18. First Light
19. Crocodile on the Sandbank
20. Hex Hall
21. The Liar Society
22. City of Bones
23. Paranormalcy
__
Twenty-three down, seventy-seven left to go O.O

A Blog in Which I Further Humiliate Myself

2011-08-07T22:06:00.001-07:00

I am in horror. Terror. I am completely and utterly astonished and bewildered by how horrible my writing used to be:

Exhibit A:

Chapter One

"This specimen," said Dr. Grobe, a Clinic scientist, "hasn't walked for a year, and has been blind for fourteen. Go ahead." There were several loud snaps and the bitter scent of latex filled the air. "Sarah, you can check her vitals."

"Is she dangerous?" a woman asked.

Dr. Grobe laughed. "No, no; we only keep class two mutants on this level."

"'Class'?" asked a baritone voice.

Broghan winced as two rough fingers pressed down on her vein, and she was overwhelmed by the stench of "Sarah's" sweet perfume.

"Yes. We classify each mutant that comes through here based on the danger of their mutation. Nightingale—that’s our pet name for this one—is a class two mutant, for the simple fact that her mutation isn’t powerful enough to harm anyone."

Another woman spoke up. "The gloves, then…"

"Are mainly for her safety, correct. Nightingale is what we call a 'healer,' a mutant that can speed up cellular meiosis by touch. Until recently, it was believed that she controlled the outflow of healing energy when in skin-to-skin contact with another living being. However, one of my esteemed colleagues discovered that—"

"The outflow is predominantly out of her control," said Dr. Hanson’s legato voice. "Steven, could I have a word with you?"

"Certainly, Dr. Hanson. Interns, Dr. Ericson will show you the rest of level one, and I’ll catch up with you on level three."
__

Okay, not GAG ME WITH A SPORK awful, but still... not good. This one's worse:

Exhibit B:

They had stopped outside the door. Bailey stood there for a split second, weighing the pros and cons of locking the door, turning off the lights and pretending the building was empty. "Too late," she groaned as the door swung open.

"You’re even shorter than she is! How can she look up to a man that is actually shorter than she is?"

"I’m not shorter. I’m six inches taller, at least."

"Well, that settles the matter," Digby laughed.

Cree scowled. "Since when did height have something to do with anything?"

Bailey cleared her throat, and the two young men took notice of her. "Good afternoon, Cree, Digby. What brings you here?"

"Mother sent me to fetch some more, er—" Digby paused for a moment, looking pained. "Daffodils? No, that can’t be it."

"Dandelions?" Bailey offered.

"Yes, dandelions!"

She nodded sagely and attempted to walk the boys to the door. "Well, I’ll bring a quart over later. Take care."

"Actually, I was, er, rather wondering if you had the rent." Digby shifted his weight from foot to foot and stared at the shelf behind her.

Bailey batted her eyes. "Is it Wednesday already?"

"It was Wednesday two days ago, actually." Digby leaned in and whispered, "I told old stone-head that you’ve been fighting a fever and couldn’t possibly be disturbed." He paused and looked at her in earnest. "You—You have got the money, haven’t you? I mean, Jonas is as dumb as an ox, but eventually even he is going to notice that you’re up and about."
__

Thank you, Critique Circle, for bringing my writing to a point of improvement. Without you, I would still be wallowing in a swamp of ignorant bliss.

Beth

P.S. I'm tired, and those examples might not be as bad as I think they are. *shrugs* Just thought I'd find SOMEthing to blog about.

Ciao, bellas! and, er, dudes B-)

Anagrams

2011-07-30T20:04:00.000-07:00

Bad
Authors
Don't write,

Won't
Read,
Ignore
Teaching,
Edit
Rarely

#

Swell
Writers
Edit,
Learn
Lots,

Will
Read,
Invest
Time,
Earn
Readers'
Support

#

Eat
Dirt,
Inconsistencies,
Typos

Dear Beta:

2011-07-24T23:58:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, you are not how I thought you would be. You're much wordier than I had imagined possible, and how you managed to find your way to a keyboard in the first place is beyond me.

I must admit, I was expecting a quiet companion for my writing. I mean, all the other writers were getting betas. Some agents even said they expected writers to have a beta or two. Boy, do I regret the first time I met you.

Here's what a beta should be:

-Quiet
-Easily pleased
-A good fighter
-An excellent swimmer
-A funny face-maker

You, my friend, are none of these things. If I had to do it over, I would go for a goldfish or a shark or something really, really cool.

Thanks for nothing,

Al G. Pond

To the Story That Wouldn't Sell:

2011-07-20T23:24:00.001-07:00

So long, farewell
Now get thee in my drawer!
My drawer, my drawer,
I am a novel whore.

Diddly diddly dee
Deedly deedly doo.

Good-bye, small fry
Get thee to a shredder!
A shredder, a shredder,
You ain't gettin' no better!

Googly goggly dee
Goggly googly doo.

I'm glad you're dead
I cannot tell a lie.
You suck, you stink
Now, burn, burn and die!

Dimmily deemily dee
Deemily dimmily doo.

Good bye
Good bye

Gooooooood BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
__
Sooo...

That's how I feel sometimes. What writer doesn't? This particular flash fic I am writing to and about was more of a joke than a story. Maybe I'll post it on my blog, and we can all have a good laugh... or stare at one another awkwardly and then lie through our teeth.

Pride and Prune Juice

2011-07-06T17:49:00.000-07:00

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. It is also acknowledged that an old man in want of a wig can't be choosy in that department.

Mr. Bennet, God rest his soul, had learned the hard way. He had, after all, married "one of the silliest women in Heartfordshire." Mrs. Bennet, the devil take her, had been quite a beauty in her youth, before the crows feet and smile lines. Yet she was known to the neighborhood as a perpetual woman of no more than one and forty years. With five daughters, the youngest five and sixty, one could hardly expect her to own up to her real age.

"Girls!" said Mrs. Bennet, interrupting her daughters from their afternoon naps. "What news I have. Neverfield has been let at last!"

"Netherfield," Mary, the third eldest, corrected her.

"Yes, Mary, that. A gentleman of great fortune has taken it. His name is—" Mrs. Bennet paused and began reciting her "ABC's." "A. Appleby? No, that can't be right. I think it starts with a B. Bright. Brightly? Ah, yes, Bingley was his name. What a fine thing for one of you girls."

Elizabeth, the second eldest, said, "How can it affect us?"

Mrs. Bennet looked quite put out, or perhaps she was constipated again. "Do not be so tiresome, Lizzy. You must know that I mean for one of you to marry him."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design? Nonsense! How can you be so tiresome? But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of you."

"More likely that he should fall down and not get up," said Lydia. She was the youngest of the girls but the most sociable. Why, she would spend hour upon hour at the local AMV.

Mrs. Bennet pretended not to hear this… or perhaps she really hadn't. "We must introduce ourselves at once."

Jane, the eldest, complained at once. "Should we ought not let him begin the acquaintance?"

"Pish-tosh," said Mrs. Bennet. "You must seize every opportunity that comes your way. Honestly, do you all want to remain old maids for the rest of your days?" She looked from Jane to Lizzy to Kitty to Lydia. Surely Lydia would be in for the chase.

"Don't look at me," cried Lydia. "I am only five and sixty."

Kitty pulled her spectacles down her nose. "Do not look at me, either," she said. "I am not that much older than Lydia." Her hands shook as she tried to thread a needle.

"I have decided on a lifelong celibacy," Mary declared.

Mrs. Bennet turned to Jane. "Jane, surely you can afford to bring me some happiness."

Jane let out a great snore. She had fallen asleep again.

Elizabeth arched a penciled eyebrow at her mother. "Surely you will find happiness if you took your pills as the doctor prescribed."

Mrs. Bennet wrung her vein-riddled hands. "It would not matter if he should prescribe twenty such pills since only a match would make me happy."

"Depend upon it, Mama, that when the doctor prescribes twenty happy pills, you'll think we're all married, and then it won't matter."

#

Mr. Bingley visited all the houses in the neighborhood. The nieces Long, Charlotte Lucas and finally the Bennets. He stayed no more than half an hour but made up for the shortness of the visit by promising to attend a dance at the local hall.

The afternoon of the dance, all the Bennet women dressed in their best finery, and once Mary had found her good set of teeth, they left for the Regency Retirement Centre.

Mr. Bingley was tolerably good-looking and gentlemanly; he had a grandfatherly countenance and unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. ("The gold-plated crutches must have cost Mrs. Hurst a fortune!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet.) His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, barely looked like a gentleman, but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his handsome features. Within five minutes of his entrance, it was circulated that he had ten thousand pounds a year, along with a live-in chiropractor and a vast library of reading spectacles. All the women declared him handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for a good twenty minutes. Then his manners were discovered. He was discovered to be proud and above being pleased. Rumors even began to circulate that his hair was not his own and that his breath smelled of rot.

Mr. Bingley quickly learned and memorized the names of all the principle people in the room; he danced every dance and never complained of a bad knee or pulled muscle. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy only danced once with Miss Bingley and spent the rest of the evening shuffling about the room, speaking only occasionally to one of his own party.

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by a rheumatic hip, to sit down for two dances. During this time, Mr. Darcy came to stand near enough for her to overhear a conversation between himself and Mr. Bingley.

"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you stooping about by yourself as if you had a hernia."

"I certainly shan't dance. You know how I detest it, unless I am acquainted well enough with my partner to remember their name. At an assembly as large and noisy as this, it would be impossible."

"I would not be as fastidious or senile as you are," croaked Bingley, "for a kingdom! I never met with so many pleasant and memorable octogenarians in my life; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"You are dancing with the only handsome woman in the room," said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet through his pince-nez.

"She is the most beautiful creature I ever laid my good eye on! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who's very pretty. Let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" Turning round, he looked at Elizabeth till, catching her eye, turned and said, "She is tolerable, but too wrinkled to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to mind old biddies who are far past shelf life. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smile—if that is her real smile—for you are wasting your time with me." Mr. Bingley hobbled in one direction, Mr. Darcy in another.

Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. Stubborn and prejudiced in her old age, she never forgave Mr. Darcy for this slight. Not even years later, though she could not quite recall his name or the particulars.
Mr. Darcy was too proud—and constipated—to overcome his pride. So, in such states, they lived to the ripe old age of eighty, drank much prune juice and caused Jane Austen to roll over in her grave many, many times.

The End.

Too Much Information

2011-06-28T02:23:00.000-07:00

Update

2011-06-25T23:00:00.001-07:00

As you can see from my word count meters in the sidebar, I am making some progress:

-God Machine (formerly known as DED: Deus Experimental Division) is almost to 12k. Huzzah!

-Charlie has been queried

As for other projects, I've been picking at them when I can. I'm trying not to overwhelm myself, see? I don't want another brain freeze.

Oh, and I composed a ballad. O,o <<
Signing off.
Beth

A Book Trailer!

2011-06-22T20:00:00.001-07:00
Here's a link to my book trailer for "In a Pickle" (MG Historical Adventure): Click me!

This was just for fun ;)

That's Your Horrorscope for Today

2011-06-21T02:09:00.001-07:00
Horoscopes for Writers!

Not that I believe in this bunk (heehee), but I thought it would be fun...

Aries
Today someone very close to you will die. Bury him in your bottom drawer and get over it. Be alert, as that blog comment will come back to haunt you.

Taurus
Do not hit the tequila today. It will hit back. Semi-colons are not your friends. Seek out the tall, dark stranger and kill him.

Gemini
Rejections will come in twos today. Be sure to pack Kleenex and wear your best thinking cap. And yes, your critique group is out to get you.

Cancer
The people you critiqued yesterday had thinner skin than you thought. Run when the screaming starts. They are not rabid fans vying for an autograph.

Leo
Like a cat, today you will nap. Drool will spill down your chin and onto your keyboard, which will then fizzle and fry as it dies. Beware! Do not shed your tears over the surge protector.

Virgo
Today our lucky pencil will break. Many deaths will ensue.

Libra
Avoid caffeine like the plague, and be sure not to shower or brush your teeth. After staring at your blinking cursor for fifty-blinking-five minutes, your keyboard will cease working.

Scorpio
Your favorite agent is laughing behind your back. They haven't read your manuscript, but it's so funny that its humor radiated through your query letter. You're that hysterical (or horrible.) Avoid the delete button.

Sagittarius
Today will bring tomorrow. Be certain to rearrange all your furniture... twice. You will write much nonsense today.

Capricorn
You will discover that your main character is pregnant and that you are the father! Congratulations! You just did the biologically impossible. Go smoke a stoggie. They're good for you.

Acquarius
Your social skills are lacking. Never go out in public again.

Pisces
The world will end when you type the end. Start a new book immediately or civilization as we know it will be eaten by giant apes.

Non-Writers Say the Darn'dest Things

2011-06-18T21:57:00.000-07:00
A snarky post. Not for the faint of heart. I make no apologies.

NW: Are you even published?

Me: The tone implies that without having your work in print, you are not a writer. In reality, a writer writes (always. :P) An author is published.

NW: I could have been a/n writer/author. I've had this great idea for years. I'm too busy to put it down on paper.

Me: That's insulting. You've never dedicated the time and effort to produce work, and you think you could just sit down and type out something wonderful without the practice? A monkey could sit down at a typewriter and hammer out words. That doesn't make it a writer.

NW: When are you going to get a real job?

Me: Even though it may not provide a steady income (or any income), that doesn't mean writing's not hard work. Oh, by job you meant where you get paid to sit at a desk and play solitaire? Yeah, I do that, too, but not on company time and I don't get paid for it ;)

NW: I just finished your book. When will it be published?

Me: You mean after I write several more drafts, feed it to beta readers, write and polish a query letter, synopsis, etc., and hopefully (but most likely not) snag an agent? Oh, and after that agent sells the project to a publisher? I don't know. Maybe several years.

NW: You're a bit cranky. Spending all that time alone behind a desk must have drained you of your people skills.

Me: Bite me.

Kickin' Back

2011-06-15T20:20:00.000-07:00
No energy lately. Can hardly type straight.

I have not forgotten you, dear reader. I'm just not myself right now.

See ya later,

Beth

I'm Back!

2011-06-09T20:15:00.000-07:00
After some computer woes, I am here! Miss me? 0:) Here's something I wrote while I was "gone":

I'm not in the mood to write. "They" say I should write anyway, despite how I feel. I assume it's the same "They" who tell me to never break the rules, to never write for publication, and to never write what I don't know.

Well, who do "They" think they are?

Definitely not Shakespeare. He'd say something like "Thou cannot avoideth the Plague of the Pen, be it by design or indifference."

Nor could it be Poe. "Writer, I am not mad! Bend and break the rules... I'll bury your body on the floorboards afterwards... Just don't look at me like that!"

Dr. Seuss? "I will not write for print. I will not write for mint. I will not write for published word. To write for print would be absurd!"

There can be only one culprit behind these mindless words that are planted and re-planted in the dark recesses of our brains until we accept them as Truth. The culprit?

ZOMBIES!

What's in a Name?

2011-05-22T18:19:00.000-07:00
I know I've done this before, but see if you can't guess the true book title:

Snobbery and Preconceived Notions

Master of the Looped Jewelery Pieces

The Wizard's Pebble

Me, Mechanical Humanoid

The Result of Famine Recreational Activities

Pre-dawn

Quiet, Quiet
__
Good luck. Oh, and feel free to entertain me with your own!

Reads of '11 (As of 5/18)

2011-05-18T17:03:00.000-07:00
-The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
-I, Robot
-The Missing: Found
-The Boneshaker
-The Count of Monte Cristo
-Holes
-The Hunger Games
-To Kill a Mocking Bird
-Storm Front
-Blameless

My goal is still 100 by January 1, 2012. I need to kick it up a notch!

Honesty and an Over-used Analogy

2011-05-13T14:26:00.000-07:00
To be honest, things haven't been going that great lately. I've been caught in a rut. A wasteland. A desert. Etc., etc., etc.

Then it occurred to me: If my tank has no fuel, my car isn't going to run and I'll be stuck in the desert FOREVER.

Without fuel, a car can't run (and neither can the AC--It is HOT in this desert.) Likewise, if I don't feed the artistic side of my brain, I will be stranded in a literary desert. No words. No ink. No hope.

Fortunately, there is a desert oasis/gas station. It's called The Library. So, fellow traveller (am I stretching this metaphor too far?), I am taking a pit stop. No use hitting the gas pedal when there's nothing in the tank, right?

It's not just about reading lots, though (I have been reading some, but that's about to be upped.) There are many things that fuel a writer's brain. They cover the five senses:

- Art. Painted, sculpted and photographic types of art. (Sight)
- Music. (Sound)
- Diet. Yes, eating nutritious and new foods, I believe, help stimultate the senses and thus fuel creativity. (Taste and smell)
- Exercise. Walking, jogging, aerobics, yoga, pilates... they all get endorphins pumping. (Touch... sweat, feet hitting the ground, the feel of your clothes sticking to your body...)

I've already started refueling my body and brain with diet and exercise. I'm going to add in some more variety of music, and I plan on visiting an art museum and a flower garden in the upcoming months.

Sound like a good plan?
___
What do you do when you run out of fuel?

Excuse 331

2011-05-06T16:40:00.000-07:00
All of my notebooks are half written in. All of my pencils are missing. What a good excuse not to write today.

Actually, I have tons of spiral notebooks and nice mechanical pencils lying here and there throughout my house. I think I’ve unwittingly started a collection. “Oh, I don’t have anything to write in,” I often say, then pick up a new notebook at the local drugstore. When I get home, I realize I have twenty. Then, I’m always losing pencils in couch cushions, behind chairs, under chairs, in drawers. So, it’s off to the drugstore to by a couple dozen more. Of course, the second I get home, flush-faced and smiling with a fresh package of number two pencils, they go missing.

“Mom, have you seen my pencil?” is the most common question around here. In the back of my mind, however, I know that it was her devious plotting and scheming to steal my beloved writing utensils.

Twenty notebooks and no pencils, this can be no good. How am I supposed to get any writing done around here?

Awkward Moments

2011-05-01T17:59:00.000-07:00
Being the only one to give a standing ovation (happened this past Friday.)

Being the only one to laugh at a joke.

Being the only one NOT to laugh at a joke.

Applauding too soon.

Applauding too late.

Snoring in public.

Drooling on the stranger next to you (strangers no more, eh?)

Pronouncing rendezvous how it looks to an American eye.

Laughing 'til you wet your pants--and you're in your twenties.

Realizing your shirt is inside out... at the end of the evening.

Realizing your fly is down... when the opposite sex points it out.

...

What's YOUR most awkward moment?

Change of Direction

2011-04-27T15:16:00.000-07:00
Breaking radio silence o.O

I'm thinking of changing my direction, or perhaps narrowing my focus. I loved writing In a Pickle, which is middle grade. I had been writing stuff more geared towards adults, but I think I have a child's heart.

I definitely have a younger sense of humor. (Can I get an amen?)

Plus I've been convicted. I tried my hand at romance, but it's something I don't want to be writing. Not sayin' it's wrong, it's just not right for me. A child's heart.

I'm not shutting any doors. I'm just walking away from them... for now, at least. Who knows? I might change my mind tomorrow and pull out my women's lit project (not the same as romance. I realize that.)

Anyway, thought I'd break the silence and tell you what's been going on in my world :)

__
What's YOUR favorite genre to write in? What age group/s do you write for?

Happy Easter

2011-04-24T01:28:00.001-07:00
He is risen!

Doubt

2011-04-21T13:46:00.000-07:00
Doubt creeps in on little fairy feet
Spreading its poison over brain and paper
And then moves on.

Lord of the Rings Vs. Harry Potter

2011-04-14T19:45:00.001-07:00
Gandalf (LOTR) vs. Harry Potter (HP)

Gandalf wins by a landslide. While Potter has a wand, Gandalf has a whole freakin' STAFF! ... and he can grow major facial hair.

Legolas (LOTR) vs. Dobby the House Elf (HP)

Dobby's off to a strong start. He deflects all of Legolas' attempts with his own House Elfy magic. Legolas strikes again, but his long blond hair gets in his eyes. He is distracted by his reflection in a puddle, giving Dobby the momentary advantage. But the H-E never was very good with sharp, pointy objects. Watch out for that arrow, Dobb--Ooh. Not pretty. Legolas wins... by a hair ;)

Orcs (LOTR) vs. Inferi (HP)

For a first, I think HP's world would win. While fire or heat hamper Inferi attacks,
and only sunlight can slow Orcs, Orcs can be killed. Inferi? Well, they're already dead. Hard to destroy something like that without magic, which Orcs don't have.

Gollum (LOTR) vs. Severus Snape (HP)

What? They're both pale and greasy and like dark places. Anyway, Sevvy would win with sheer wandage powerage (Avada, anyone?) Though I think Gollum might try to eat him first and give it a fair attempt...

Balrog (LOTR) vs. Hagrid (HP)

After Hagrid tries to make the Balrog a pet (Aww, the lil' tyke) and fails, the Balrog decides he does not like being called "Bessie" and sets the half-giant on fire.

Worm Tongue (LOTR) vs. Lucius Malfoy (HP)

Both cunning in their own oily ways, the two make fast friends and live in mutual hatred of each other. Everybody loses.

Sauron vs. Voldemort

Both evil with no apparent reason (mommy issues?), both not entirely alive or dead, both with life forces tied to earthly objects, these two wizards would have to find each others rings/Horcruxes and destroy them. Voldy has seven. Sauron has one. Both have many obstacles set in the way, along with loyal followers.

And the winner is...

I can't say without a certain side killing me, so I'll just leave it at that ;)

___
Who do YOU think would win?

Somedays

2011-04-14T13:20:00.000-07:00
Somedays 300 words is a lot of words.

Somedays you want to throw in the towel, and you do... for a day.

Somedays you opt to check email a million times. Sometimes two million.

Somedays are harder than others.

And sometimes days turn into weeks that turn into months!

The point is, you keep coming back. You dust yourself off, you find your chair glue and you open a vein and write.

Right?

To all my fellow weary soldiers: Writing is a journey. Every pothole and every "wrong turn" lead to growth. So when you're feeling discouraged, feeling like you can't pound out another word, remember:

We've all been there. We all will be there again.

Hang in there, buddy.

An Alphabet of Writerly Stupidity

2011-04-10T14:15:00.000-07:00
A is for adjectives and adverbs when a stronger noun or verb will do.

B is for bullying book reviewers when they don't like your book.

C is for calling an agent that clearly wants you to email or snail mail.

D is for distracting yourself from writing by writing a blogpost ;)

E is for excessive use of semi-colons.

F is for forgetting to run spellcheck.

G is for groaning over how unfair the Industry is.

H is for head-hopping.

I is for ignoring writers' guidelines.

J is for juggling too many projects.

K is for kindness to your characters.

L is for listening to bad advice

M is for making people believe you're something you're not.

N is for not doing research

O is for opening with a dream sequence every time.

P is for putting down other writers.

Q is for quitting.

R is for run-on sentences.

S is for sending that manuscript off before it's ready.

T is for talking when you should be listening.

U is for under-use of narrative (we don't want to read all dialogue!)

V is for venting in public.

W is for worrying.

X is for xenophobia.

Y is saying Yes when you really want to say No.

Z is for zookeeping, the career you might have gone with, if not for this writing business.

Things That Keep Me up at Night: A Poem

2011-04-10T14:06:00.000-07:00
RATED S for Stupidity and Slightly Silly Sequences.

There are cats on my bed
Everywhere I look.
*snap* *snap* *snap*
And adverbs and adjects
All over my book
Book
BOOK!
*snap* *snap* *snap*
I see
The way
You look
At me
It keeps me up
All night
Like "if" "but" or "and"
At the start
Start
START
Of a sentence,
It ain't tight.
Without a hint of repentance
I hit backspace as I type.
And if I open with a dream,
I'll never dream again.
For the entire world
Will take away my pen.
Pen.
PEN!
*snap* *snap* *snap* *snap* *snap*

YOW!

Uno Mas?

2011-04-08T01:29:00.001-07:00

Yarg!

2011-04-08T01:13:00.001-07:00

My Short Story Came Out!

2011-04-04T14:47:00.000-07:00
Today, "Red" is available for reading at the Lorelei Signal. Go check it out!

Takin' It Easy

2011-03-30T11:40:00.000-07:00
Hello, gang!

Just a note to say I haven't evaporated into thin air, been abducted... or joined the circus, for that matter...

I am currently on a lovely desert island with no outside connections besides the coconut and bamboo computer a scholarly friend made for me. I need to keep this brief, because the power could go at any time. Or, I should say, that skinny guy's legs could go at any time. He's been pedaling like mad for the last twenty minutes!

Here in my tropical paradise, I've seen all kinds of exotic adverbs and adjectives. Rest assured, I will leave them in their native habitat and not try to smuggle any home in my extensive luggage.

You would not believe the size of those nasty typos. I keep swatting them away, but they're out for blood.

Blank pages abound in silent flocks, and words float around the lagoon like dead ducks. Every time I come near them, though, they take off at top speed, silly dears.

That's how I'm doing. Well, I must go. There are several others vying for this contraption.

Until then,

Beth

When was the Last Time You...

2011-03-25T22:54:00.001-07:00
Gave up on writing?

Un-gave up on writing?

Read a book?

Re-read a book?

Nurtured your inner child?

Saw a play?

Googled your full name?

Ate chicken?

Threw a pillow at someone?

Spoke in Pig Latin?

Played your armpit in a band?

Made up languages from what you THINK Enya is singing?

Mooned someone you thought was a total stranger in the car next to you and it turned out to be your boss?

Ate a fire ant?

Gave yourself a pickle and peanut butter facial?

__
Please tell me... especially if you did the last few. I am extremely interested.

"Send"

2011-03-21T10:30:00.000-07:00
You know you sent your first novel query when...

10. Your email has been checked twenty times in the last two minutes
9. Throwing up does not sound like that bad of an idea
8. You could either run circles around the house or *see above*
7. Query Tracker has been added to your Favorites
6. You just checked your email again before reading number seven
5. You keep mistaking heart palpatations for your phone vibrating in your shirt pocket
4. You're already revising your query letter in your head
3. You can't tell if you're tired or about to faint
2. Even your mailman has heard the news
1. Oh, go ahead, stop reading and go check that stupid email, for all I care

Why Shakespeare Couldn't Email

2011-03-18T23:28:00.000-07:00
Once while Shakespeare was at the computer--yes, he had a computer--he had a case of writer's block. Wasting time, he took apart his keyboard and put it back together. What he didn't realize was that he had switched the A and E keys. This is the madness that ensued:

To ba or not to ba: Thet is tha quastion.
Whathar 'tis noblar in tha mind to suffar
Tha slings and errows of outregaous fortuna...

Then he spied the word "fortuna" and nearly had a stroka... er, stroke. Something wasn't right. Perhaps if he moved a few keys around...

Ir ti take arms against a sea if tribles...

"Tribles?" he said. "What in the name of Lady Macbeth's bloody hands is a 'Trible'?" One "B" and a few episodes of Star Trek later, old Willy switched all the keys back to their correct places. Or, so he thought.

And by @$$@#ng *nd th*m? T@ d#*: t@ sl**p;
N@ m@r*; and by a sl**p t@ s*y w* *nd

He swore and switched back to parchment and quill, for 'tis nobler in a bind to suffer not the keys and arrows of outrageous technology.

The End.

Writer's Block, A Poem

2011-03-18T23:16:00.000-07:00
....................................................................... ........................... ........ ....................... .. ..........................
................................ ............... ............ . . . . . . . . . .

......

.....

.

The End

The Minister's Cat

2011-03-14T09:00:00.000-07:00
How to play: The first person says "O, the minster's cat is an _____ cat." The blank space is filled in with an adjective beginning with the letter "A." The next player says, "The minister's cat is a _____ cat." The blank here is filled in with an adjective beginning with "B." And so forth and so on.

This is more fun in person, so I'm adding a twist:

If, in the next twenty-four hours, all twenty-six letters are used, I will sing one page of the last two posters' manuscripts (or two poems) and post the composition on YouTube, link provided here. The other great bit? I will sing in whatever style(s) the winners tell me to.

One last rule: No posting twice in a row and no more than one adjective per post! Though, you may post as many times as you like.

I'll begin:

O, the minister's cat is an aggravating cat.

Simile

2011-03-14T00:00:00.000-07:00
As:

Black as...
the back of my ink-stained hand.

Bold as...
telling a story in present tense.

Brave as a...
querier, making their first query.

Busy as a...
procrastinator trying to meet a deadline.

Clean as a...
manuscript, twenty drafts later.

Dry as a...
repair manual.

Large as...
a 72-pt font
___
Do you want to play the Writer's version of Simile? Here are some starters. Have a go!

Dead as a...

Tight as a...

Free as a...

Gentle as a...

YOUR simile HERE

Bad Ideas

2011-03-12T23:42:00.000-08:00
- Saving your Word documents generically on a shared computer.
Someone might just think of the same file name and replace your work with theirs.

- Hitting "Auto-Summarize," panicking, hitting "save," and closing the file.

- Eating or drinking over your keyboard.

- Using liquid hand sanitizer over your keyboard.

- Dusting your computer... five years later.

- Clicking on that blinking ad.

- Sticking a mini CD-rom into the floppy drive (who uses those anymore, anyway?)

- Hitting keys that you're unfamiliar with, by accident or design

- Blogging after three in the morning.

__
These "Bad Ideas" might seem obvious no-no's to you, and you might think them unfunny... They aren't funny. I've done them all! :-O

What are some of your bad ideas?

What Books Say About You

2011-03-09T00:00:00.000-08:00
If you read Dan Brown, JK Rowling, Jim Butcher or Stephanie Meyer, you are evil. Period.

If you read Jane Austen, you are as dry as toast.

If your favorite novelist is George Orwell, you suffer from acute paranoia. Please seek professional help immediately.

If you like Tolkien, you are a long-winded... windbag.

If you enjoy Agatha Christie, you drink lots of tea, love your mustaches. Oh, and you killed the butler.

If you cozy up with Oscar Wilde... I won't judge.

If you're a fan of Gaston Leroux, you can speak French and enjoy haunting operas... and pubs. Tsk-tsk.

If you're into Suzanne Collins, you are a realist.

If you crave Shakespeare, you're either very smart or very dumb.

If you read the funny pages, you know that I'm totally being sarcastic.

If you read the news, you know I am totally lying when I say I'm being sarcastic and that I have a hidden agenda in here... somewhere. Oh, and I can't speell worht a dern.
__

What's wrong with YOU--I mean, what do YOU enjoy reading?

What's on the Nightstand...

2011-03-08T14:41:00.000-08:00
Besides a wedding invitation, an empty CD case, some papers, a pocketwatch, a battery pack, and... you get the picture...

What's on my READING nightstand:

- i, Robot
- The Ruins of Gorlan
- Catching Fire
- Mockingjay
- The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (and other stories)
- A Little Princess (still)

and many others.

What are you reading?

Writer Pick-up Lines

2011-03-03T21:09:00.000-08:00
If you were a story, I'd read you.

Is it just you, or is there a plot in here?

You are the full-stop to my run-on sentence.

You complement me.

In a world of adjectives, you are a noun.

I wish you were a redundant sentence, so I could read you twice.

___
What's YOUR favorite pick-up line, writerly or otherwise?

BTW - wordfoolery, you need to claim your prize by April 1, 2011! Send your name and FULL address to bethovermyer[at]gmail[dot]com!

Contest: Closed & the Winner is...

2011-02-28T18:03:00.000-08:00
wordfoolery!

Congratulations, wordfoolery! You may have your pick of one of the three prizes. Note: if you live overseas, there is a chance the Penguin mints and the Isoflex ball (containing unknown materials) may not be legal to ship to you and will therefore be taken out of the first prize. That still leaves:

-The Elements of Style
-The Bic pens
-The Moleskine journal

should you choose 1st prize

-The pocket watch

should you choose 2nd prize

and..

-"Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don't Float"

should you choose 3rd prize.

Again, congratulations, wordfoolery! Be sure to send your ENTIRE mailing address to bethovermyer[at]gmail[dot]com!

Please respond by April 1st.

Thanks again,
Beth

Note: Despite what the time says, it is March 1, 12:00 AM EST

One Week Left!

2011-02-21T23:59:00.000-08:00
There's only one week left to turn in your Time Warp submissions! Two entries so far, and they are good ones!

On the Menu: A What If...?

2011-02-18T00:29:00.001-08:00
If Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice had a restaurant...

NOW HIRING!

Mrs. Long proudly presents her new cafe, "Eat a Little, Talk a Lot."

...

"Why, hello, have I got the dish on... ice cream! Of course. You want to know our flavors. Here are our just desserts:

- Plain Jane Vanilla
- Bing(ley) Cherry
- Collin Daz's Preachy Pompous Peach
- Banana Bennet Bonanza
- Cantaloupe Elope

"But don't forget to take a look at our lunch menu! We serve:

- Longbourne Steaks
- Crow
- Humble Pie (Miss Caroline Bingley's favorite!)

"And our cocktail/cafe menu:

- Bloody Mary
- Fizzy Lizzy
- Mock-Bravado (Mr. Wickham's own invention!)

"Oh, you're admiring my signs?"

Sign #1: DO NOT STEAL. IT IS A CAPITOL OFFENSE!
Sign #2: WANTED: A MAN IN POSSESSION OF A GREAT FORTUNE

"Thank you for stopping in, Mr. Darcy. I hope you come ready to eat! For there is no greater amusement for young people!"

*Mr. Darcy wants a Fizzy Lizzy... and that's all... to go.*

__

Don't forget to enter "The Time Warp" (link provided above with my tabs.)

Love 'n' Literature

2011-02-14T03:46:00.000-08:00
Happy Valentine's Day, dear Reader/Writer! In honor of the day, I present you with romantic lines from some of my favorite novels!

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" - Emily Bronte, "Wuthering Heights" (spoken by Catherine Earnshaw of Heathcliff and herself)

"Reader, I married him" - Charlotte Bronte, "Jane Eyre" (Jane on Mr. Rochester)

"Of love... daroga... I am dying... of love" - Gaston Leroux, "The Phantom of the Opera" (spoken by Erik)

"You pierce my soul" - Jane Austen, "Persuasion" (Captain Wentworth in a letter to Anne)

__
Have a very happy, love-filled day! Also, don't forget to enter The Time Warp contest, which closes in two weeks.

~Beth

10 Commandments of Internet-ing

2011-02-11T21:12:00.000-08:00
1. Thou shall not post things on blogs, writing forums, twitter, Facebook, etc., when in emotional distress or anger. Chances are, you don't have perspective on the situation you're about to blab to the world, and it will mostly likely come back to haunt you.

2. Thou shall not troll. Anywhere, at anyone, for any reason, whatsoever. EVER.

3. Thou shall not feed trolls. Yeah, it may seem fun at first, but you're probably just making enemies for yourself.

4. Thou shall not bash the business, editors, agents, fellow writers, or anyone online (or in person, for that matter.) It makes you seem like, well, a not-so-nice person. And who wants to work with a meanie?

5. Thou shall think hard before you hit send. Will this hurt someone? Will it eventually hurt me? (Yeah, I'm not always the best at following this rule.)

6. Thou shall not put yourself down. The meek shall inherit the earth, however... those that bash and abuse themselves will draw more sympathy than respect. A few funny jabs at yourself are fine (who doesn't love someone who can laugh at themself?), but things like "My book sucks" or "I suck" are no-nos.

7. Thou shall speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth... unless you're being sarcastic to make a point or a joke (at no one's expense.) If you are not JK Rowling's best bud, but you say you are, there are ways to verify. Yeah, I've got Jo on speed dial... I'll call and ask her, so help me!

...

'hem

8. Thou shall avoid lecturing on subjects you know nothing about. I'm not going to post about antecedents, because, honestly, half the time I can't remember the definition. If I learn more on the subject, maybe I'll have an antecedent blogfest or something.

9. Thou shall not complain. About writing. About lack of representation. About lack of blog followers. Anything... except the snow. Now THAT is something to complain about. Try to be positive on the Internet as much as possible. Gloomy Guss is soooo yesteryear.

10. Thou shall be true to thineself. Don't blog about what you don't want to blog about... unless, of course, you want to. Hmm. That sounded better in my head. Perhaps I should think hard before hitting "send."

__
Don't forget to enter my contest! HERE

The Time Warp Contest!

2011-02-07T00:00:00.000-08:00
I've done it: I've completed my first draft of "In a Pickle." And I intend not to be the only one who benefits from this.

"In a Pickle" follows a boy on his time travels. In Charlie Pickle's honor, I give you the...

TIME WARP CONTEST!
Write a paragraph on what era (be it past or future) you would want to travel to and why. Tell me in fewer than 200 words and no fewer than 50. Post your paragraph in the comments section between now and February 28th to qualify.

RULES and ELIGIBILITY
-50 to 200 words
-Post in the comments section
-Post no later than 11:59 EST on February 28th
-You must be at least eighteen (18) years old
-RULE CHANGE: You don't HAVE TO be a resident of the US. It would be nice, but if you're not, I won't have a cow ;-)
-You must have fun!

My three favorite entries will be announced on March 3rd.

PRIZES:
-Third place: A copy of "Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens who Don't Float: Classic Lit Signs on to Facebook" (a very funny read for any lover of classics)

- Second place: A replica of an antique pocket watch (time travel appropriate, no?)

and last but not least:

- First place: A writer's goody box, which includes:
1 box of Bic pens (12)
1 Moleskine ruled notebook (pocket)
3 boxes of Penguin Caffeinated Chocolate mints (nom!)
1 Isoflex stress ball
1 hardcover copy of Strunk and White's "The Elements of Style"

Sound worth playing for? Then get a-writin'! And be sure to tell all your friends.
____
Oh, entries go in the comments below

Why Does It Snow?

2011-02-06T00:00:00.000-08:00
Snow is made when it's cold. We all know this... I hope.

But I want to take things a step further: WHY does it snow? Not the how but the purpose.

Some say snow helps fertilize fields for excellent planting soil. Rubbish. It snows for this one simple reason. Are you ready? I'm ready. The truth is:

It snows to keep writers inside, writing.

Yes, my fellow writers, we are to blame for this icy mess. It's God's and Nature's way of forcing us to do what we do best and often times what we want to do least.

When the weather's great we have excuses like "I need to soak up some vitamin D" or "I need a tan" or "Today's too nice to waste indoors," etc. But when it's chilly and flaky out, we have no excuse.

Cold? Curl up with your laptop. That should thaw out your lap in no time.

Tired? Sleep on your keyboard and sort out the jumbled mess of letters later.

Sneezing? Screens are a breeze to clean with your elbow-patched writerly sleeves.

Bored? Kill someone... in your manuscript, of course.

Telephone line goes out because of heavy icing? Perfect! Now you have no Internet to distract you.

Power line goes out because of strong winds? Pretend to be Laura Ingalls and write by the light of a candle, you big baby.

The list goes ever on and on.

So, yesssss, my preciousssesss: We are to blame for winter. Let's do the write thing and write until our fingers fall off. How else can we make spring come faster?

Writers are Like Dogs, Not Cats

2011-02-03T05:31:00.000-08:00
Writers feed off of praise.
So do dogs.
Cats? "Unless you have catnip behind your back, don't talk to me."

Writers complete complicated tasks. Writing, editing, staying off the Internet...
There are dog shows where dogs heel, sit, and do other tricks.
Ever been to a cat show? "Meeeerrrrowww! I've been sitting on my butt in this cage all day while some jerk in a white coat pokes at me through the bars. Not cool." *SCRATCH*

Writers are constantly learning about and honing their craft.
We've all heard of dog training...
No one ever mentions cat training.

Writers can feel lonely at times because of their job.
Dogs can feel lonely when Master is gone.
Cats? "PARTAYYY! The humans are gone... finally."

Most writers like writing.
Most dogs like begging.
Most cats? They like sleeping. That's about the only thing writers share in common with felines.

If dogs and writers are so much alike, why do cats seem to be the prefurred pet? Opposites attract, I guess :-P

Cats rule and dogs drool... do writers drool, too??

Why I Won't Critique a Story

2011-02-01T00:18:00.000-08:00
These are the top things that stop me from critiquing a story, in no particular order:

- Poor formatting. Don't forget to double-space paragraphs or at least indent!

- I am very picky within that genre. Example: I'm a little prejudiced against some Science Fiction, but The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was a hit with me. Why? The humor. I'm a sucker for out-there humor. But that's just personal preference. In other words, it's not always you; it might be me.

- So many grammar and spelling mistakes right off the bat that the story is either too hard to understand or makes me want to grab a red pen.

- Long paragraphs and super-long sentences can sometimes turn me off to someone's story.

- A poor hook. Though, I usually give things a chapter or so before I give up on it.

- Gore, rape, extreme violence. Again, personal preference. Even if I'm half way through the book, I might put it down because of those things.

- If someone wants me to start critiquing halfway through the story, I might do it, but ten chapter in... I probably won't connect with the characters or understand what's going on/worldbuilding, etc.

___
That's some of my list. I wonder what turns other people off to critting.

Rabid Rabbits

2011-01-28T15:16:00.000-08:00
Title got your attention? ;-)

I've got a lovely bunch of rabbits (deedily deedily?) Yes, writing projects are like rabbits: There's no such thing as just one... with me, anyway.

Last I counted I had fifteen. I think I've added two or three since then :/

Yes, my resolution to work on no more than two projects at a time has crumbled to dust, which has since been blown into the wind. I'm weak, what can I say? So far this month I've worked on maybe three or four of them.

And these rabbits can be RABID, let me tell you, man. "Pick me!" "Write me." Demonic bunny voices yell at me "NOW!" Fortunately, I threaten them with the hose and they scurry back down their holes and leave me in peace (not pieces, as I almost typed on accident.)

Then I get (temporarily) stuck on one bunny, so I call to my peeps, "Yo, get your cotton tails over here." Again there are the demonic bunny voice, "ME!" "Pick me!" Etc., etc., etc.

The point of this post? That it's not bad for me to have more than one project at a time. In fact, it might be healthy. How do I know? Well, no one's come with a size XL straitjacket yet... have they?

Caught in a Bad Snow Dance

2011-01-24T13:48:00.000-08:00
It's snowing right now. Proof? The sweat stains under my arms from shoveling sidewalks.

That has nothing to do with today's post. Neither does the title. What I want to talk about is fads and peer pressure.

I tend to walk to the beat of my own bagpiper. I wear mismatched socks--inside out, of course--and my hair has been dyed numerous colors in the past. "I, Rebel" could have been my slogan as a teen--though, in a well-behaved sense of the word.

Who cares what they think? Right?

One definition of a fad: "A passing fashion or fancy imposed upon by groups, nurtured and fortified by peer pressure." (HiTops. Great play. Anyone seen it?)

Peer pressure. It can be good. (Oh!) But it can also be bad. (Oh.) Very bad. (Yeck!)

So, how can you tell what fads in writing are good and which are bad? My answer: don't write for the fads. They come and go. WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO WRITE.

As for peer pressure...

Bad: A group insists that semi-colons are the new full stop. You follow this advice--and many editors die a little inside.

Good: I'm writing today. You should write today, too! Even a sentence will suffice!

Bad: I wrote five-thousand words today. I know I have flexible hours and you barely have enough time to breathe, but you must write 5k as well, or else you are a bad writer.

Not that anyone (I hope) would come out and say the last bit, but you might feel like a bad writer if you can't keep up with other's goals/ideals/routines.

Again it comes back to: BE WHAT YOU ARE.

... But also be open to healthy change ;-)

Ne'ermore

2011-01-19T12:43:00.000-08:00
Happy Birthday, Edgar Allan Poe!

In your honor, I post what I had deleted:

I want to hug the Trees. Not a tree. The Trees that gave me Jane Austen.

I want to kiss the ink-smeared blotter of Bronte. Which sister? Pick one.

I want to hold hands with the clock that ticked out the time while Leroux penned "Phantom."

I want to tongue the pen that gave me the Pit and the Pendulum.

If this makes me creepy, I'm proud. Thank you, Edgar!

Regarding That Last Blog...

2011-01-16T19:25:00.001-08:00
Yeah, that was me trying to be humorous. Instead, I think I came across as creepy. Yep.

Poetry

2011-01-11T18:24:00.001-08:00
Food for the soul.

Devil's food cake.

Strawberry cake.

Strawberry soda.

Soda pop.

Popcorn.

Corn Flakes.

Flaked coconut.

Nuts.

Peanuts.

Peanut butter.

Butter.

Buttermilk.

Milkshake...

Man, poetry makes me fat.

The End

The First Five Days

2011-01-05T18:54:00.000-08:00
So far this year I've been good. Then again, we're only five days in. Yeeks.

I've:

- Worked on only two writing projects (rewriting London Towne and writing Shift)
- Read one book (To Kill a Mockingbird)
- Started to read a second book (The Count of Monte Cristo)
- Started Alpha reading for a friend
- Raided a not-so-local bookstore because there is not a single bookstore within twenty minutes' traveling distance (horrors!)
- Bench-pressed a twenty pound cat... with my feet! (feel them muscles, baby!)
- Self-dianosed self with ICP (I Cause Paranoia. Long story short: I had a friend and myself convinced that someone had hacked into her Apple account)
- Boldened random words to make people think I meant something important
- Invented the word Boldened

Yeah, man.

What have YOU done? Or not done. I'm not picky.

100-Word Sentence

2011-01-01T12:00:00.000-08:00
The very first thing I noticed when I died on that dreary and cold December sixth evening at precisely six o'clock plus six and sixty seconds—a mark of the beast of a burden that death was becoming—was that, although my eternal sleeping box was made of the finest cuts of pine and plywood, and despite the fact that the entire enclosure was lined with the best and most expensive stuffed leather and pleather, it was not well ventilated and there were red ants, which brought me to the following conclusion: death was dead uncomfortable and far too itchy.
______
Enter the fun: http://elenasolodow.blogspot.com

Bozo

2011-01-01T00:01:00.000-08:00
This year I am resolved to work on a harmful habit of mine: juggling. Some people can juggle. I can juggle scarves, but...

*cues circus music*

I can't juggle projects. Or, rather, I SHOULDN'T.

She tears out her hair with the greatest of ease,
The stupid Bozo with projects totaling fifteen...

It's hard to quit cold turkey, so here's what I'm going to do: I am allowed two projects MAX a month. Period. When the month's up, I can continue with those projects or move on to a new one or two new ones.

The line-up will look something like this (subject to change):

JANUARY - Emily + Steam-Beast

FEBRUARY - London Towne + Anti

MARCH - Shift + In a Pickle

APRIL - DED + P&PJ

MAY - Emily + Anti

JUNE - Steam-Beast + London Towne

JULY - In a Pickle + DED

AUGUST - Wooing Miss Austen + Shift

SEPTEMBER - P&PJ + Steam-Beast

OCTOBER - Anti + In a Pickle

NOVEMBER - DED + London Towne

DECEMBER - Shift + Anti

__
This way, if I get stuck on one project, I can move on to the next. But if I'm stuck on the next, I have to go back to the first.

Yep. That's my plan. Oh, and those aren't all my projects. There's a least five more.

2011

2011-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:00
HAPPY NEW YEAR!

What I Read in 2010

2010-12-31T00:00:00.000-08:00
Not including books that I've reread, here is this year's list:

1. Sense and Sensibility
2. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief
3. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters
4. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Titan's Curse
5. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Battle of the Labyrinth
6. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Last Olympian
7. The Picture of Dorian Gray
8. The Maltese Falcon
9. Soulless
10. Changeless
11. Cinders
12. The Invisible Man
13. An Assembly Such as This
14. Night Light: A Parody
15. Little Women
16. Promise Me
17. Jane Eyre
18. Wuthering Heights

I re-read all seven of the Harry Potter books, so my real grand total comes to: 25

12/30/10: 'Sup?

2010-12-29T21:55:00.000-08:00
Reading: Wuthering Heights
Writing: DED
Re-writing: London Towne (zillionth draft)
Watching: Community (TV series. Very funny)
Eating: Christmas leftovers
Looking forward to: 100-word sentence contest thing at Elena's blog!

12 Days

2010-12-25T13:10:00.000-08:00
The first day of the Twelve Days of Christmas begins on Christmas Day and then continues on until the fifth of January:

12 Drummers drumming (Jan 5)
11 Lords a-leaping (Jan. 4)
10 Pipers piping (Jan. 3)
9 Ladies waiting/dancing (Jan. 2)
8 Maids a-milking (Jan. 1)
7 Swans a-swimming (Dec. 31)
6 Geese a-laying (Dec. 30)
5 Golden rings (Dec. 29)
4 Calling birds (Dec. 28)
3 French hens (Dec. 27)
2 Turtle doves (Dec. 26)
1 A partridge in a pear tree (Dec. 25)

I wonder if anyone has written the story from the True Love's perspective. "On the first day of Christmas… I spent over ninety bucks on a stupid bird that pooped all over my car. Bah, humbug!" Or how about from the people in the song? "On the eighth day of Christmas… somebody cow-napped me and Bessie. I am now with seven other maids and we've been ordered to milk it for all it's worth. And don't get me started on those twelve drummers drumming. My skull's vibrating!"

Hey, if Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer gets his own song AND a TV special, so should the Twelve Days folks. It's only fair.

So, I guess I'm handing out an exercise:

Write a Christmas carol, any Christmas carol, from a different point of view. That Little Drummer Boy song? How did that lamb and ox keep time? Or the Grinch song. What about the poor dog with the horn tied to its head?

Have a ball.

Happy Birthday!

2010-12-25T00:00:00.000-08:00
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The Re-Write Before Christmas

2010-12-24T00:00:00.000-08:00
'Twas the first draft of my novel, and all through the book
There were typos and blunders, not even a hook;
The scenes were all tied together by a hair,
All hoping the editors soon would repair;
The characters were voiceless, all bland and cardboard,
They talked and they rambled, no sense in their words;
And my alphas and my betas put on thinking caps,
"How do I keep reading? I want a long nap!"
And out of my prose there arose such a clutter
Of dialogue tags such as "murmurred" and "muttered;"
"Away," "through" and "of" all ended each sentence;
I misspelled all words without a hint of repentence;
All descriptive words were abused shamelessly;
The luster and shine was very much lacking.
When pressing my brain on to make this thing better,
There appeared on my desk an over-sized shredder.
With a clunky old hard drive, so ancient and sick,
I rigged up old Bob with the help of a fork lift.
More vapid than prairies my stories I shredded,
Lit them with a match, doused with unleaded,
"Now burn, you! Now, die, you!
Now shred, burn and fry, you!
"No and's if's or but's:
I'll burn short stories, too!
"To the top of the shredder, to the top of the wall!
"No dashes, m-dashes, n-dashes; away, all!"
As dry as leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
I watched the smoke drifting up, up to the sky;
So shiny and lovely, the ashes, they flew,
With smell of burnt plastic and toxic waste, too.
And then I'd an inkling, a nudge in my head,
The itching and clawing, as that of the un-dead.
And I drew in my head an outline so sound
For a shiny new novel, and then went to town!
So, hear me exclaim as I drop out of sight:
"A novel isn't written; thou must re-write!!"

AWC: Part VII

2010-12-23T00:00:00.000-08:00
Right before the pile of rejected manuscripts crushed him, Stooge awoke. He was alive and well in his bed. "Yipee!" he cried. "Oh! The muses did it all in one night—of course they could if they wanted to, bless them. I'm as giddy as a schoolboy!"

He stumbled into the computer table. "I'm as—as merry as a drunk!"

The door banged open and in walked Bob Muse. "I forgot my hat, sir, might I—"

"Bob! You wonderful man. Come, work with me this morning. I will double your pages!"

"Sir!"

And Stooge was as good as his words. His prose grew on to be stronger and stronger, and though he received his share of rejections, in the end, Stooge kept the spirit of Dedication in his heart.

AWC: Part VI

2010-12-22T00:00:00.000-08:00
The clock struck a third, and Stooge sat straight up in bed.

A muse draped in black cloth stood in the corner of the room, glowering at him.

"Muse," said Stooge, "it is you I fear most of all. Are you the spirit that has been foretold?"

The muse nodded once.

"Oh, dear. You are the Muse of Drafts Yet to Come, aren't you?"

Again the muse nodded.

Stooge gulped. "Very well, Muse; I shall watch what you have to show me." He took the spirit's hem, and they plunged into darkness. "I don't understand. What is this place?"

A light spread slowly over the scene, and Stooge realized he was standing on a giant manuscript, with his name and contact information typed upon it. "I finished in time?" Stooge asked. "I can't believe it. What a miracle!"

"Well, this another load for the rejection pile," said the voice of an slushpile reader.

Stooge looked for the pile… and realized he was standing on it. "Spirit! Please tell me I am not doomed for the rejection pile! I can change. I will be a better writer. I will live with Dedication in my heart. Please, don't send this manuscript to an early grave." Stooge got to his knees and wept. "Please! Please!"

"Add it to the bin," said an agent.

"Nooooo!"

AWC: Part V

2010-12-21T00:00:00.000-08:00
The clock struck two, and the room was filled with a blinding light… and much laughter. Stooge awoke with a start. "Bah! Who is it?"

"Come, Under-Achiever, and know me better, man."

Stooge stumbled out of bed and approached this strange new Muse. "Spirit, who are you?"

"I am the Muse of Drafts Present, a balance of fun and hard work. I come to show you scenes of writers everywhere. Take the hem of my robe."

"No," said Stooge. "You're much too bright and merry, not unlike my present muse Bob."

"Under-Achiever Stooge," the muse said in a warning tone. "Here take a sip from my cup."

After one sip, Stooge was giddy as a schoolboy. "I feel so giddy!" he said. "Like I could write for hours upon hours. What was in that cup? Inspiration? I want some more."

"This is the drink of Dedication. With or without Inspiration, Dedication is the thing which keeps a writer coming to the page. Now, do as I say and take my hem."

Stooge obliged and they were pitched into a scene of wonder. Writers were writing everywhere! There wasn't an inner editor in sight. "What is this place?" Stooge asked.

"You knew it once," said the muse; "back in that scene from your childhood. This a writer's workspace… a space where writers work."

"Yes, yes, I know what a workspace is, and I want to go home now."

"Under-Achiever! Here, take another sip." So Stooge did, and again felt the wonders of writing.

"Look at him! He's missing the delete button. And him; he's thrown out his eraser. They're all getting it down on the page."

"You've forgotten that, my good man, the joys of writing. You've been caught up in the business of it all."

"Edits aren't bad."

"Yes, but they are when you're creating. It's time to return, I fear. Again, take the hem of my robe."

AWC: Part IV

2010-12-20T00:00:00.000-08:00
Stooge beheld himself in his later teen years, studying a thesaurus. He was quite alone, and looked quite pensive. "I must find the perfect word," he muttered.

The Idea, love of his life, walked into the room. "Under-Achiever," she said, her voice shaking. "I have come to say good-bye."

"You're leaving for the day, are you?" young Stooge said, without looking up.

"No, I have come to say good-bye for good. Next to Publication, I weigh very little."

She dropped a handful of gold coins onto one side of the scale, then dropped a pen into the other. She then turned around and left.

Present Stooge cried out. "No! Write her, you fool! Don't just sit there: Write her."

"He cannot hear you."

"Muse, take me away from this place; I wish to see no more." His wish was granted. Stooge found himself in bed again, his eyes wet with tears.

Writer's Blah

2010-12-19T13:34:00.000-08:00
Dashing through my prose
Is a horror a minute. Say,
Please don't tell me "No"
Or go laughing on your way.
Hell's to pay for me,
If I can't get this right.
Won't you come and write with me
A writing song tonight? OH!

Blah blah blah, blah blah blah
Blather, rinse repeat
I am not very good at writing on my feet
Toes are froze
So's my prose
It might as well be dead
I just hope that my good muse will strike me in the head.
___
Written once upon a December...

AWC: Part III

2010-12-19T00:00:00.000-08:00
The clock struck once. "Under-Achiever Stooge, I am the muse that was foretold," a woman said. "I am the Muse of Drafts Past."

Stooge awoke to a bright light, opened his eyes and beheld the first spirit foretold. "Muse, tell me, why have you come? I was just settling down for a long winter's nap."

"There will be plenty of time for napping later. Now we must go. Time is of the essence."

He rose out of bed and approached the spirit.

"Take the hem of my robe," she said, "and I will guide you to a Novel many drafts ago…"

As Stooge took her hem, the world fell out from beneath him and he was transported to a small computer room, where sat a little boy. "Why—that's me as a little boy!" he said. "Little boy, what are you writing?" Stooge looked over his shoulder and beheld a manuscript full of so many errors that he cringed away in horror. "Spirit, why did you have to show me this depravity?"

"You were happy then," said the spirit. "You were happy writing until you discovered the snares of over-editing."

Tears formed in Stooge's eyes as he spied his old favorite characters on the screen. "That's Annabelle! And look! There are all the schoolboys. Oh, what fun I had in those days."

"Something you would be wise to remember. Come, to another scene."

AWC: Part II

2010-12-18T00:00:00.000-08:00
"Stooge," said Novel, thrashing his heavy chains of red tape.

"Gah!" cried Stooge.

"Novel! It's you! No it can't be. It must be part of my imagination, or a bit of indigestion. I thought those last nine lattes tasted a bit funny. That's it. That's what you are: You are an old cappuccino!"

"Under-Achiever Stooge! Hear me: You will be visited by three muses tonight."

Clutching his heart, Stooge stumbled to his feet. "Three muses, you say? But why, Novel, old friend?"

"The first muse will visit you on the stroke of one. The second will visit you on the stroke of two. The third one, on the stroke of three. Heed their words, Under-Achiever Stooge, or you may be doomed to a life of edits."

With that, the visage was gone. Stooge looked around, but saw no traces of an intruder. "Bah. Humbug."

A Writer's Carol: Part I

2010-12-17T00:00:00.000-08:00
Some seasonal writerly fun... in seven parts. Kind of like Voldemort, only with less evil and more hair.
___

The Novel was dead as a doornail ten edits ago. Under-Achiever Stooge, the late novel's author, was a mean miser of words, a killer of Craft, an abuser of adjectives.

Late Deadline's Eve found him penned up in his office, dawdling, while his assistant, Bob Muse, attempted to stoke the fire of Inspiration. "Leave it," said Stooge. "Do you think books grow on trees?"

"No, sir," Mr. Muse said. "It's just that your prose is so cold, and the deadline's tomorrow."

"I suppose you think I shouldn't take the day off, am I right? Be gone with you."

Mr. Muse shuddered and took a step back from the word processor. "If I am to leave early, then, might I have my pages?"

Stooge waved him away with an ink-stained hand.

"To some it's acceptable behavior, I suppose, picking a man's brain, whatever the weather. Very well. Here are six sentences. Be gone, and be even later upon the next!"

Mr. Muse accepted the sentences with gratitude and ran home to his other authors, none of which Stooge knew about or cared.

"Bah, humbug!" Stooge said, shutting down his screen.

"Stoooooge!" said an empty voice. With a jump, Stooge looked around, but nobody was there.

"Hello? Who's there?" "Under-Achiever Stooooooooge." A visage of a book, ten edits dead, appeared before him. It was The Novel.

Jane

2010-12-16T00:00:00.000-08:00
Parodied and parroted. That's what I've done to dear Jane.

Austen, Jane Austen.

Happy 235th birthday, Jane!

Dear Santa Claus

2010-12-14T15:18:00.000-08:00
We've read your manuscript "Holiday Season" and decided to pass on it for the following reasons:

- Present tense, no matter how you wrap it, is not our style
- Whoever/whatever you're using that whip on, we don't support animal cruelty and we don't publish x-rated erotica
- The title is too ambiguous. In future, perhaps clarify by using the name of the holiday around which the season is based
- "Ho," no matter how many times it is said in immediate succession, is a derogatory term that we strive to avoid

Thank you for submitting to Hope Publications. We look forward to reading more from you in the future.

Sincerely,

Chris T. Mas

Dear Ms. Cliche...

2010-12-12T12:00:00.000-08:00
We didn't find your novel "breath-taking" or full of "edge-of-your-seat action." The heroine wasn't "to die for," nor was the hero "the spitting image of" any famous hero from any "trove of literary treasures" we've ever read.

There were no "thrills and chills," nothing to "knock our socks off," and absolutely no "crystal clear" anything.

In short, your novel is as "dead as a doornail."

Thanks for not submitting a sequel. We appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Ruth Less

Emily and Me

2010-12-10T00:00:00.000-08:00
Emily Dickinson and I have a handful of things in common. Besides having put words on paper, we both share the following things:

Shyness
Reclusiveness
A December birthday

Happy 180th birthday, Emily!

Excuses, Excuses...

2010-12-03T18:03:00.000-08:00
For not blogging:

- I'm writing
- I'm stranded on a desert island and the Professor can't get the coconut computer running (I am currently on an adjoining island with very fussy Web)
- My minions stole all my Internet passwords
- Ninjas did it
- No ninja PIRATES did it

Um...

For not writing:

- I'm blogging
- The cat thought my keyboard was a litter box and, well, you get the not-so-pretty picture
- Aliens have taken over the earth and are using my manuscripts as fuel for their rocket ship
- I'm conserving every nanobyte or giga-whatever-a-jig
- Agents hacked into my computer and stole all my shiny ideas. Oh noes!

Yes, those are my excuses and I'm sticking with them. What's YOUR excuse, slacker?

Thankful

2010-11-25T00:00:00.000-08:00
As a writer, I am thankful for...

- An understanding mother who puts up with all my writing

- My friend Nayuleska who has read my writing and encourages me

- YOU! My blog followers, who listen to my chatter

- Everyone who has ever read or critiqued my work

- Bob, my computer... when he's working properly

And finally:

The ability and the freedom to write whenever and whatever I want.

Thank you, God, Giver of all good things!

I'd Like...

2010-11-20T03:40:00.000-08:00
One tall, hot, skinny, no-nonsense MC with a triple shot of motivation, no whipped farmboy.

A tall, white FMC with three shots of dimension and extra charm on top.

One grande main plot, hot, with a sprinkling of sub-plots and a shot of genius.

That's it.

To go, please.

Idea File

2010-11-15T15:55:00.001-08:00
I need to start one of these. It's merely a collection of words, images, phrases, names, locations, maps, plots, languages, etc., whatever you want to use in a WiP. Any WiP, current or yet-to-be. I had one once-upon-a-time. I wonder what happened to it...

Just get a three-ringed binder, paper, hole punch, and start organizing. Some ideas:

Tabbed Section 1: Characters

In this section, paste pictures of actors, models, friends and family and hot strangers (though, preferably not these =P) onto sheets of paper with names, notes, whatever info you want to include.

Tabbed Section 2: Names

A listing of names that you like, what they mean, etc. This could also be a sub-category of "Characters."

Tabbed Section 3: Maps

Drawings of what your MC's bedroom looks like, the street around the corner, the world she lives in, etc. Whatever you need to visualize on paper in order to better describe in words.

Tabbed Section 4: Plot Ideas

Self-explanatory.

Yep. Any and everything you observe or think of that wants to be put in a book. Get it down on paper.
__
Do you have an Idea File? Or folder? Filing cabinet? Safe? U-Store-It? Tell me. Please.

Dear Ms. Winter:

2010-11-12T14:39:00.001-08:00
We regret to inform you that we will not be able to accept your work at this time.

Here are some notes from our esteemed reviewers:

"Dark and dreary, Ms. Winter's work leaves us feeling cold."

"The only good thing we found about her piece was Christmas."

"This whole 'snow' thing... I don't get it. Cut that out along with the bit of 'negative degrees Farenheit,' and we might have a future deal. For right now, though, I'll pass."

"A mockery of Ms. Spring's masterpiece "Intro to Summer," Ms. Winter's work fails to address the real life concerns of chapped lips and frostbite."

Thank you for your submission. Please feel free to try again next submission period, which will open in another thirteen months.

Sincerely,

The Staff at The Ohio Weatherman Journal

NaNoWriMo

2010-10-31T18:22:00.000-07:00
National Novel Writing Month begins tomorrow! Good luck to my friend Amy Laurens and everyone else participating!

I will not be participating this year for sanity reasons.

Ciao!

Writing Fiends

2010-10-29T18:53:00.000-07:00
We've talked about Super Writers. But what about the villainous side in each of us? You know it. We all have a dark side. Some hold their work up against others far more often than what is healthy. Some limit themselves by refusing to try anything new. Some start sentences with conjunctions... kidding.

Let's look a the darker side of The Writer.

The Riddler - "Riddle me this...

You're somewhat on track
If you can digest:
Take me out somewhat, I'm oft over-used,
But take me out whole, and you won't live."

You're too obscure with your writing. You aim for poetic, but no one knows what the heck you're talking about. (If anyone can discern what the riddle is talking about, I'll write you a bad limerick.)

Magneto - You're very prejudiced. Anyone who doesn't write in your genre is against you... and must be eliminated or brought to subordination (or converted to your genre. You're not too picky.)

Darth Vader - *heavy breathing* Your main focus is to join with the best of the best publishers and together rule the literary galaxy! Hmm. Maybe stop focusing so big and start looking at home. At your children: Your stories/novels/plays/whatever. The writing comes first. Then, together, you can rule the galaxy... NY Bestseller List... whatever.

___
Some of my favorite villains. What villain do you relate to most and why?

Super Writers!

2010-10-28T10:28:00.000-07:00
Mom or dad or waitstaff by day, but by night--and any other precious minutes you can squeeze in--you are a writer.

I think writers are heroes in their own write... right. We might not wear capes--some might. Hey, I don't judge--but we meet deadlines head on; write when we're worn to the bone, ready to cry, ready to burn our manuscripts to pieces (but we don't.) We're an unusually resilient lot. Time and time again we get rejected, yet we send out again. "Please, sir, I want some more" might be our masochistic creed.

Anyway, without further ado I present the Big Three of Writers, the best of the best, the cream of the crop, the elite, the... Well, you get it.

Superman – You are a natural. Writing faster than a speeding bullet, your words are more powerful than a locomotive. It's a nerd, it's insane, it's Super Writer! Frankly, we read your words and wonder if you're human. Stay away from that green thing. What? No, not Kryptonite. Envy! Though your writing's da bomb, you may suffer from ILLS: I Love Lois Syndrome. Read: Wanting What You Can't Have-itis.

Batman – You are all about the gadgets. Spell-check is your Robin. A new computer program or book on writing comes out and you snap it right up. It's a dark night in Gotham—Writers Workshop, that is—when Google docs won't open. Who's the joker who stole your copy of A Thousand Faces? The two-faced son of a typewriter!

Spider-Man – Your writing strength came to you all of a sudden. You weren't writing before, now you're churning out bestsellers. It's like you've got a bug… the writing bug, that is. Not some radioactive spider that bit you and, like, gave you super-mad writing skillz that we all envy or anything.

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I hit The Big Three. What Super Writer are you and why?

Why?

2010-10-26T14:03:00.000-07:00
Here's a question for you all:

Why do you write?

Ask me that question and I'll tell you: I don't know.

I guess I get ideas, they excite me and I want to do something with them. I've always been a day-dreamer. I've always been semi-creative. But why does it have to be on paper?

Do I write for money? Clearly not, since this is not a lucrative biz.

Do I write for fame? Fame would be nice some day, but it is a very SLIM possibility. Which brings me to the next question:

Would I be all right in, say thirty years from now, still being a literary "nobody"?

I don't know. I've already made it twenty years writing without much success. It's only been laltely that I've been questioning my motives.

Do I write for pleasure? It pleases me when I'm writing for me and only me. But when I start thinking "Would anyone else like this?" that is when I stumble.

Finally, do I write because that's all I've ever known? Am I scared of facing the unknown?

Honestly, I don't know. I'm just in the dark about my own motives as you are about my motives.

I've been taking a "sabatical" from writing. It might continue for a day, a minute, a month, a year... But something tells me I will come back for more (even if eventually.)

What are your thoughts?

Answer-ish Thing-os

2010-10-19T00:39:00.000-07:00
Here are the answers to my scramble game. Note that you need to say some of these out loud.

1. What you do after fishing IRNCALE

ANSWER: Clarinet. Clear a net? Ah, say it fast

2. Singing beetle BMGHUU

ANSWER: Humbug

3. Surprise a criminal COCHASKN

ANSWER: Shockacon. *dies laughing*

4. Snatch a male bovine BLEARGB

ANSWER: Grabble. Grab Bull. Yeah, you get it.

5. Take furniture to court BAITULSE

ANSWER: Suitable. Sue Table ;-)

What am I Saying?

2010-10-17T00:23:00.000-07:00
I went through one of my old notebooks in these wee hours and discovered an interesting page. The following are riddles that might be of my own creation... or not. I honestly don't remember.

For your enjoyment--or time-killing pleasure--I present:

The Scrambler Riddler Game (Because I'm fresh out of titles tonight)!

Clues/puns ______________________ Scrambles

1. What you do after fishing IRNCALE

2. Singing beetle BMGHUU

3. Surprise a criminal COCHASKNO

4. Snatch a male bovine BLEARGB

5. Take furniture to court BAITULSE

___

Good luck. Seriously. You'll need it.

Underground + Kindness

2010-10-15T22:16:00.000-07:00
My submission is almost ready to send to the Literary Lab's "Notes From the Underground" anthology :) Thanks to the glamorous Michelle Davidson Argyle (author of "Cinders"), I am no longer panicking about having to fill the full ten pages.

Totally random...

I found an AWESOME site. No, I do not normally promote all caps, but this is worth shouting about. Check out: Help Others.org. It's a site that gives you ideas for acts of kindness, 'cause let's face it: the world is seriously lacking in the smiles department.

It also gives one a chance to--le gasp--write. Non-fiction. Anyway, check it out.