I couldn’t say “no”!
I set some really aggressive writing goals for myself the past few months and through the summer. Well, aggressive considering I have a corporate day-job and three kids. 2-3k per day might not sound like much, but after a month of this pace I’m starting to fall apart. I do get in my daily exercise, but I’m still feeling the pressure of it all closing in on my head. So I called in well this weekend. Played hooky. Blew off my write-goals entirely.
It started Friday where I managed 1k of my 3k goal then ditched my characters to go horseback riding with my friend, Amanda. My horse tossed me onto the ground, but honestly, that’s nothing new and I still had a great time, even with the additional bruises. Afterward, hubby finished up with his brewing for the day and we jumped into the car to drive down to the southern Maryland shore for a weekend escape. The kids were with my parents, and our friends, Brian and Megan, had graciously invited us to stay in their RV and boat with them for a weekend of relaxing fun on the Chesapeake Bay. Continue reading
I’m currently reading Blood Cross (in the Jane Yellowrock series) by Faith Hunter. The main character is a Native American shifter, and she hunts rogue vampires, solves the central mystery primarily by her heightened Mountain Cat sense of smell. Jane is smart and tough. She researches, interviews, sorts through a tangled web of facts and hunches to find the bad guy, but her nose is how she tracks and identifies the human, animal, and supernatural world. Hunter is a writer who sets a scene with a good deal of description. She’s very sensory in her style, but nowhere is this more evident than when her main character is describing the smells around her. It made me think a bit, because as a writer I don’t always consider smells. Admittedly, my main character isn’t a shifter. She’s much more visual and tactile in her view. Still, as I go back and think about my novels, I realize the only time I get into aromas is when they’re critical to the scene or to reinforce the setting. Is it because my own sense of smell isn’t exactly the best in the world?
I’m finding that the time I spend not writing is as important as the time spent with fingers on the keyboard. I’ve always known my daily jog adds to my creative process. It’s like meditation – feet hitting the pavement in rhythm for five miles. My mind wanders in a stream of consciousness fog and scenes from my novel unfold before me like a movie. Most of my writing is now done between the hours of 9pm and 11pm – after the kids have gone to bed and I can finally focus. It’s become my routine: Kiss the kids goodnight, clean up dinner dishes, pour a cold beer, write. But it’s what happens throughout the day that determines how well that writing session goes. Continue reading
There are times when I wonder what century I’m living in. I’d like to hope that the experiences Ann Aguirre blogged about below are dying, fading remnants of asshattery, but I’m very much afraid gender discrimination is alive and kicking. _________________________________________________________________________
“… I was excited when I found out I had been put on a SF panel at Comic-Con. I went, full of excitement and anticipation. But once I got there, I found more of the same. The moderator checked the pronunciation of the names of all male guests. (They were all male except me.) She did not ask me–and she got it wrong. Then in introducing me? She called me “the token female”. None of the male panelists objected; they were fine with it, apparently, and I was too new and scared to stand up for myself in a room full of men who were ex-military, who were actual rocket scientists, or worked for NASA. I wish I had. But I let them diminish me. I let it happen. I had a broken mic during the panel and nobody bothered to replace or fix it. The writer sharing his with me frequently took it away from me, or wouldn’t hand it over when I wished to speak. The male guests were dismissive and scornful of my work and my comments. I have seldom been so belittled or ashamed. By my peers. Why? My only difference is that I’m a woman and I’m writing SF the way I enjoy it. Maybe it wasn’t that bad, I thought. Maybe the audience didn’t notice. I was, frankly, on the verge of tears. Continue reading
It’s gonna change, so don’t bother with the 800x magnification
That would be me.
I posted earlier about a plotting/writers’ group that two local authors and I had informally put together. Just us, for two hours in a closed community college student center, pouring over giant pads of paper, laptops, and brightly colored sticky notes while the long-suffering security guards eyed us suspiciously. I promised that I’d blog about my attempt to rehabilitate my pantser writing style into a more efficient, semi-plotter one. Yeah. That. Continue reading