Friday already?

I feel so blah. Summer is kicking my butt like it does every year. It has been above 110 all week. Miserable. I get exhausted just going from the car into preschool and back. Heat is not my friend. Blech.

OK, enough moaning. Oh wait, one more moan. Maybe two.

I'm in serious battle with the first page of Skin. Oh yeah, there's number two...Skin needs a title. And a synopsis, but I'll worry about that one later.

So yeah, that first page. I've written it about fifty times. Still not right. Grrr...Argh...Sigh...

As the July 1 deadline approaches (self-made, mind you), I need to settle on a title. Funny, I was never really attached to Skin. Now, suddenly, it feels like it has so many meanings in relation to the story. But I can't use it. There's already a YA novel (bestseller even) with the same title. So I'm back to square one. And I suck at titles.

Anyway...

Have you seen that Amazon commercial where the lady runs out of coffee and then has mass quantities delivered by Amazon? That's me. Not on the commercial. In real life. Five cases of my coffee arrived yesterday. I'm stocked up. LOL! Maybe if I go on a caffeine binge, I'll come up with a title. And a first page. Probably I'd just end up running from the house, screaming like a banshee. Then the heat would hit and I'd lose my mind completely. Guess I'll stick to my one cup a day. Safer that way.

I'm going to try cleaning my house now. Change of pace. Won't the boys be surprised...

Writing Advice

There's a lot of writing advice out there--some good, some bad. I am by no means an expert, but I thought I'd spend some time talking about what works for me and what doesn't.

First up is: Just get it down. You can't edit a blank page.
I think this piece of advice definitely has perfectionist writers in mind. I'm one of them. When I first began writing, I tapped into this tip often. But as time has progressed, I've begun to move away from it. Now, I'm not saying I disagree. Clearly, I cannot edit a blank page. But what I've learned about myself is that once the story is on the page, my brain has a tendency to latch onto that particular version. At times, it's almost as if I can't fathom the story proceeding any other way. And that's a problem, particularly in the revision stage. The other issue I've run into here is that not only does the story stick in my mind, but so does the language. I get stuck on the verbiage and have difficulty doing much beside tweaking here and there.

What I've learned about myself is this...I need to semi-silence the inner editor. I need to get the story out, but I also need to pay attention to the language, the rhythm of the words. As far as the story goes, I've come to the realization that it flows best when I'm prepared to write. That's probably another post all by itself. Being prepared to write is really the best thing I can do for myself as a writer. Forcing the words when unprepared, probably the worst.

So while I cannot edit a blank page, I don't want to edit a crappy page. Being prepared to write, to me, means knowing where the story is going from the point at which I last left off. If I stopped because I didn't know where to go next, I won't be able to continue until I figure that out. And that means taking some time away from the computer to just think about the story. Often, the first idea is OK, but the second, third and fourth are so much stronger. So I allow myself to get to the point where I can't wait to put the story down. Then the writing flows so much more smoothly. No forced words, or stilted dialogue--the characters come alive in my mind. All the better.

Being prepared to write is also my solution to what I think others call being blocked. I don't necessarily believe in writer's block. I believe in being unprepared to write. Stuck, that's what I call it. By taking this position, the problem goes from being something scary and obscure, to being something controllable. Doable. All it takes is preparation.

This is my number one rule with regard to writing. When sitting down to write, always be prepared. Hey! I guess you could say I'm a boyscout writer. *snort*

I'll tackle other advice next time. In the meantime...write on, my friends!

Nasty little critters

I live in the desert. It is a fact I lament over from time to time in my yearnings for all things green. But, alas, it is what it is. There are benefits. Bugs for one.

Mosquitoes, to be more specific. Sure we get them. Not a ton, but some. Typically, they show up at the end of summer. August, September, after the monsoon storms have left a bit of stagnant water. I deal.

But let me tell you, lately I've been getting bit. And it's driving me freaking mad! Outside, inside, the bloodsuckers are after me. Not kidding here.

Now I know no one likes mosquitoes. I mean really, they're just plain disgusting. But long before the whole West Nile thing, I harbored a healthy fear of the buzzing buggers. As a child, I would wake in the night with one dive-bombing my head.

"MOM!!!"

I wouldn't allow either of us to return to our beds until the beast had come to a bloody end as a smear on the wall.

So imagine my disgust now, in freaking hot, dry June, to find myself the meal of mutant mosquitoes. Then, imagine my further disgust to find that I have been breeding the suckers.

I was under the (false) assumption that my fountain (being a running body of water) would not provide the kind of environment mosquitoes seek for their larvae. Well, it appears the top of said fountain is indeed still enough for reproduction.

Rest assured it got a healthy dose of bleach this morning. I hope no birds die in my efforts to eradicate the spawn. I don't need the guilt.

So there it is. My mosquito problem.

Now I hear that the housing decline will only make matters worse. Abandoned houses mean green pools. Lovely breeding grounds. Turns out others in the community are on top of it. They're dumping fish in the deserted pools, setting them to town on the squirming larvae. Now there's a cause I can get behind.

I may turn into a peeping Tom, bagful of fishies in hand. Watch out! I'm a mosquito mission.

The dreaded query

Yesterday, I spent three hours fiddling with nine sentences. I'm still not finished. In all honesty, I do enjoy writing the pitch that goes into a query letter. I like whittling a story down to a short little teaser. But man! I want to get this one right. It's getting there, slowly.

That said, I am not looking forward to the synopsis. I'll probably wait until my next round of revisions is complete. They will be a whole lot more fun.

In other news, my child now sounds like the sea gulls in Nemo. "Mine. Mine. Mine..." Combine that with his uber-physical nature and it's like WWE smackdown around here once preschool lets out for the day. Poor older brother doesn't stand a chance.

Company, a Cars cake and a cold

That about sums up the last 10 days for me.

We celebrated our second Cars-themed birthday this weekend. This time, Thing 2 chose Mack the truck from the movie. Let me tell you, balancing that monstrosity on my lap as we drove to the party was terrifying. 8 hours of work wobbled precariously in my lap the entire trip. But it made it and was a huge hit with the preschool crowd. Yay for Mama!

Here it is in all its glory...

And I don't think I ever posted the pictures of the three race cars I made for Thing 1's party a few months back. Here you have Chick Hicks, Lightning McQueen and The King.

Whew. I'm all caked out for another year. :)

The cold lingers on, but with the company finally departed, I will settle back into a writing routine. My super-duper CP had some great comments that I'm itching to incorporate into the WIP. Skin is coming together nicely, I think. I'm still without pitch, query or synopsis, so that's on the agenda too.

All in all, a busy couple weeks. Hence the repeat disappearing act. I'll be around to visit you all very soon.

Ciao!