Completions

Meet Jake, the hero of my completed draft of Chivalous. Funny, he seems shorter in real life than he did in my book. Ah well.

I have passed by these metal statues (sculptures?) in Garden Ridge for years now, and have been on the brink of buying one countless times. He actually fits in nicely with our decor. Did I mention my husband collects dragons?

My husband wasn't home with the kids when I stopped through and dropped off Jake. I set him in our bedroom--eventually he will be put in charge of guarding our dining room, but his edges are a little sharp and the 1-year old is less likely to be playing in our room. I forgot to warn my husband about the new addition. My daughter spotted him and crept down the stairs to tell her daddy that there was a "dark knight" up in his room. I think he may be making an appearance at her (princess-themed) birthday party later this month.



Yes, I sort of snuck the "100%" in on Tuesday without much fanfare. I was too tired to post that night, and wasn't really sure that there wasn't another scene to add. I may at some point choose to add a final chapter where the various characters get together one more time, but for now, the story is done and I'm happy with my ending.

Tuesday was a strange day of completions. Besides finishing the book, I got a call from my son's pediatrician with results of an MRI that he had on Friday. His is a long story, one that can be found here (to start from the real beginning, you'd have to rewind back to about November 06 when I got my first ultrasound with him). Anyway, the results were good, and ruled out a possible issue with a tethered spinal cord--a test that was about 10 months overdue, in my opinion.

Tuesday I also found out at work that a job that I was up for was filled by someone else. The job might have been a nice change from the dungeon I work in now (it's a basement!). But, as I told my husband, I would have gone from a dungeon to a cell with windows. I'm not overly excited about work lately, if you hadn't noticed.

So, with those 3 big things out of the way, for better or worse, I'm on to new and bigger things. One step is to draft a query letter for Chivalrous and see if I can hook an agent or two to at least peek at the manuscript. I might enter it in a contest as well--our local chapter of RWA is hosting one soon. I won't do any more editing, at least for a really long time. I'm too close to it, I know.

I also need to decide on my next project. I have too many options that I've been jotting notes on lately and I am temporarily terrified to choose just one. They're all different--two are more womens-lit-y with romantic elements, one is a suspence with paranormal elements, one is just a romantic suspense, and then there's Clare and Helmut, who keep reminding me that they have more to their story as well, despite my stating that I didn't intend to write it...

Sparsity

A friend asked me yesterday how the writing is going. Sparsely. I am still mostly on-track to finish my revision/edit/initial writing/whatever of my book by Thursday. I really have just one scene left. I had just one left last night, too, when I sat down at my desk and pounded out a scene.

I have a tendency towards ADD-type behaviors (maybe more than a tendency, but I really don't care for an actual diagnosis, you know?) Two of my worst problems are starting a big task, and finishing one. So, starting the finish is kind of hard. On the up side, my kitchen floor has been nicely scrubbed within the last 24 hours.

Part of the problem was working out the choreography--who goes where and when to make the scene work. I'm getting there. I think I have an idea now, finally, thanks to a quick walk today before lunch. Sometimes I can write without any specific plot or idea and end up with a scene I'm really happy about. But I already have 2 endings and don't like either of them.

It's also depressing that every day I see or hear a news story about the mortgage market and foreclosure rate. And my heroine is up to her eyeballs in real estate. Yikes, talk about bad timing on my part. So even if my writing is brilliant, and I'm sufficiently motivated, I may not find anyone willing to even read it, let alone buy it, because it may not be marketable. Which reminds me of an editing idea I have to hone one of the scenes of the book....(I will not revise, I will not revise, I will not revise, yet!)

Ok, so this post is pretty depressing, both in quality and lack of original ideas (how many times have I posted about the same thing? I am not counting them...). Soon, maybe, I will find something better to talk about. Sometime after Thursday when I declare myself finished and start stressing over the next book (or, more likely, stressing over which idea will become the next book).

One step forward, two steps back

Writing at the new desk is fun. I need a footstool. It's a lot higher than my folding tables were (and I'm short to start with).

Anwyay, I made some progress today, while the baby napped and my husband and daughter were out of the house. I don't know that my % is going to reflect it, because I also upped my "target" word count. I'm not really aiming for a specific number of words, it's just something that I can make a statistic out of. I'm getting closer to my new ending. I have about half of my current scene to go, and two to three more to follow. This is, for the record, my third ending to the story, and I think this one feels a lot less forced.

Anwyay, off to chill for a few minutes before the baby wakes back up :)

The Big Woody

I spent so much time screwing today and I am sore. I finally wised up after a while and switched from manual to battery power. It took two men to get it up, but they left the job unfinished. I worked it myself for a while, but then had to call my husband to help finish the job. The only problem now is that I can't make everything fit in at once.

Namely, my collapsible cutting table. What did you think I was talking about?

My new desk looks bigger at home than it did in the giant warehouse store, and it is HEAVY. Beautiful, but heavy. And for companions, I have purchased it a pair of bookcases from Target. They match half a dozen other ones we have in the house, and also the new desk (which itself could masquarade as part of our dining room set). I had to assemble the bookshelves myself, and I think I gave myself a blister on my thumb before bringing up the cordless drill/screwdiver from the basement.

(My half of) the office looks lovely, and my sewing machine and serger fit nicely on the shelves. Overall I like my new set of office furniture. It fit my needs pretty well: the desk has a large flat surface that I could easily use for sewing, and it's not particleboard (well, parts of the bookshelves are, but the desk is not). My biggest problem with my transition from folding tables and piles of junk to pretty office is that I started with a folding cutting table from one of the fabric stores. The thing is huge--even folded, it's huge. And admittedly, kind of ugly(particle board again, and not even in a fake wood color that matches the rest of my stuff). Huge is good when I'm cutting out drapes or large pieces for a dress or costume. Not so good when you've run out of space in the room.

I guess my next task is to tackle the closet. I have piles of craft stuff in there that I can probably toss or donate. Then I might be able to fit my folding table in the closet when not in use. I'll have to maneuver it around my husband's boxes of defunct computer parts and game boxes, and past the old shelves full of out-dated programming manuals too. (It's an insanely large closet, and if it had power outlets, it could almost be an office by itself) Ahem, not that I'm complaining about his hobbies. Because if I did, then he would have room to complain about mine. I just wish he'd buy some prettier boxes for his odds and ends like I did....

I had intended to actually write a scene or two today, to break in the new desk. But as I bought it from a discount place, their "delivery" does not include "setup", and I could not turn the thing right side up after I attached the legs, or even get it fully out of the box. So I had to wait until after the kids went to bed to even arrange everything in the room. And now that I've had a full day of hard manual labor, I'm ready for bed.

Old Writing Space

My desk arrives tomorrow. I haven't cleaned up yet. I'm not sure whether to hope for an early arrival or a late one. For this afternoon, I found an hour between work and my exercise class, so I'm sitting in one of my favorite writing spots: Starbucks.

It is really freaking cold in here. I could sit outside, but there are no power outlets and too many smokers. It's like 95 today, and I'm wearing jeans, and I'm shivering. I may have to add a sweater to my laptop bag.

This week has been interesting. I posted an attempt at a query letter to an online critique site, and got some interesting feedback. No, the novel's not quite complete, but I thought I'd at least see if I'm on the right track. Interestingly, none of the feedback was grammatical or structural. It was more about how I described my characters (I guess it sounded like a lot of sleeping around), and my heroine's job (she's a realtor who's rehabbing houses...the word "flip" is hitting hot buttons I guess). Because of my chosen subject, I might indeed have trouble finding a market given the current economy, even assuming that anyone finds my writing worth considering. But I can't write that part out, it's too integral to the story.

I'm not heartbroken over the comments--all of my work for my day job goes through peer review, which is much the same thing as a writing critique (but with less focus on spelling and grammar). It is not the sort of commentary that makes your heart sing and puts wings on your feet, though. And that is a good thing because my h&h have some serious reconciliation to do. I'm about a scene or two away from a happily ever after.

And then, back to square 1 while I let this one age a bit. When I come back to it, hopefully, it will resemble a fine wine more than fuzzy macaroni and cheese.

Writing Space

Where do you write?

Once upon a time, in the epoch before halflings invaded my live, I had an office of my own. It was more of a craft room, actually, as my creative-drug-of-choice back then was sewing. Along came my daughter, and her daddy and I opted to squeeze our collective caca into a single "office". For the last 4 years or so, that "office" has resembled more of an overstuffed closet with computers. It even has its own, huge, walk-in closet, which with the addition of a window and some electrical outlets would be indistinguishable from the rest of the office (i.e. overrun with stuff and books and assorted computer parts).

My office furniture has consisted mainly of folding tables, El-Cheapo particle board bookshelves, a chest of drawers (to hold the fabric stash, of course), and some cardboard "bankers boxes" full of patterns and other assorted junk craft supplies. For a while I used an old, Franenstein-esque computer assembled from cast-off parts from my husband's system, on an old TV cart. I upgraded myself to a laptop nearly 3 years ago now, to free myself of the the cart. By doing that, I also freed myself of my "office" space.

My newfound freedom allowed me to compute anwhere and everywhere--at the kitchen table, at Starbucks, when travelling, while sitting in bed! My folding tables grew increasingly lonely, and burdened by the heavy weight of all of the junk office supplies I have tossed on them. Finally, there was a breakdown. Literally. On one of my two tables, the leg support is no longer firmly attached to the table top and prone to collapsing.

After months of dragging my feet, I have finally handed over money for a real desk. A very pretty real desk, mind you. It is identical to one a friend of mine bought, and I am NOT ASHAMED of being a copycat. It's a beautiful desk, and quite a bargain. The only similar piece I saw at a different store cost double what I paid.

And it looks so Writerly. Writerish. Cool.

Here's a photo


(No this isn't my office. It's the pic from the furniture's website. And I didn't get the fancy chair, just the desk).

My new space arrives on Friday. Hmm...that's not much time to relocate all of my junk important belongings. I know what I'm doing this week.

A winning book idea

That's it. My next novel is going to be Amish. Now to decide on a sub-genre...Amish Romantic Suspense? Amish Paranormal? Amish Erotica? Oh, the possibilities....

Call Me Dulcinea

I think I read 3 or 4 blog posts just yesterday all reacting to an article by Jonathon Karp in the Washington Post titled "Turning the Page on The Disposable Book". In it, he complains about how mass-marketing of books, and the sheer volume of books published today amounts to junk. That's my rephrasing of his words anyway:

Books of this ilk have always existed. But in the past, they've been balanced by
substantive books...

It's interesting to note that he is editor-in-chief of a publishing house called Twelve that exists to publish and promote only 12 titles per year. The idea is to promote "quality" over "quantity". It's an interesting concept, though I respectfully disagree with him over his classification of "substantive" vs. not. He is clearly not a fan of "genre fiction", as shown in one of his personal predictions of the changing book marketplace:

Readers of old-fashioned genre fiction will die off... The novelists who are truly novel will thrive; the rest will struggle.

I have long been annoyed by the very phrase "genre fiction." It is meant to designate all of the common classifications of books you would find in a typical bookstore: young adult, romance, mystery, etc. The phrase is frequently uttered by proponents of "literary fiction", a genre that is itself typically excluded from the umbrell of "genre fiction", with same sort of pursed-lipped distaste that folks once uttered the words "colored people".

Mr. Karp is entitled to his hopes for the future death of my beloved romances. I am entitled as well. I believe that he is wrong. Not his opnions (as I cannot declare his opnions wrong, unless he were to reveal that he lied in penning them). But I do not--will not--believe that the desire for a Happily Ever After will fall by the wayside.

Popular fiction changes as the ages change, but it does not go away. Karp has failed to learn the lesson of Miguel de Cervantes. In the late 1500's and early 1600's, Cervantes became so annoyed by his generation's pop lit, or genre fiction, depicting the dashing exploits of knights in armor galavanting about the countryside, jousting and winning the hearts of the ladies, that he wrote a satire. In it, he created a ridiculous old man who has read so many adventure novels that he loses his mind, dresses up in patchwork armor with a barber's bowl for a hat, and sets off on a misadventure of his own. Don Quixote failed to make his point: instead of shaming the adventure novel-reading fans that Cervantes was poking fun at, he won their admiration. Don Quxote is a world literature classic, still widely studied today.

Vampires, dragons, hyperspace, and Regency duchesses are today's knights and windmills, but they're not all that different. I truly believe that Karp and every other reader who snubs the paperback aisles in search of the superior read, are really missing out. While he is correct that many many books are doomed to be "mulched", and will be easily forgotten by the time next week's New York Times Bestseller List is printed, that doesn't mean that they lack substance or quality, or even novelty.

Sometimes you just have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your Prince Charming.