WIP

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If I have to restart my computer (because it got gummed-up again), when I go to restart work on my novel it takes a short check-list.

Normally I leave everything open so I can just sit down I work without digging for my place again

  • I open Excel with all my scenes, so I can keep track of where I am, then
  • Three Word documents:
    • The actual story: Let Evening Come,
    • my “progress report” document where I make notes about how word-counts, chapter movement and where more background is needed (it’s my way of preventing my “inner editor” from interrupting the putting down of words.  I remind myself I’ll work back through during my final edits, so get the silly thing finished first).
    • my “cut bits” document
      • At least one writer I know says she just cuts and throws away everything she’s not going to use, but I don’t trust myself enough to do that.  (Or maybe it means I think too highly of my work?)

Anyway, I opened the “cut bits” doc last tonight and yanked the scroll-bar to the bottom like I always do (ready to drop the latest cuts from this read-through).  Then I looked at the page-count and nearly spit out my milk: 104 pages.

Of cut stuff.

And that doesn’t even count the cut-stuff from the first couple revisions.

So I’m feeling a bit less-guilty now about the length.  At least I’m making a good-faith effort, right?

Welcome to the 2009 Blog Party!

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Every year I meet new neat people, and I’m so happy you’re stopping by to visit.

This blog is about stories, writing, and ideas.

It’s also the story of me writing my first novel.

Based on a little-known folktale, it’s the story of a young woman who risks marrying a “beast” in order to escape her abusive step-mother.  She disenchants a good man, but her happily-ever-after is interrupted when her new husband must undertake a quest, leaving her alone to face new monsters.  

I’m fascinated with getting inside other people’s heads and figuring out how they think; it’s one of my favorite things about noveling.  Perhaps as a result I am very transparent with my own thought processes and that’s what ends up on this blog: “Thinking out-loud.”

This week I’ve got a line-up of posts to  give you a survey of how I think, a bit of the variety I cover, and a book or two to sign up for each day of the party.  (I collect and share books constantly.)

  • Writing advice for the beginning novelist (and did you ever wonder the difference between blogging and writing a book?)
    • Giving away Bird by Bird
  • A question I had to work out for my own novel
    • Giving away two of my favorite fairy tale novelizations
  • A comparison of old and new tellings of traditional tales
    • Giving away a book of tales and a small folklore encyclopedia
  • And more– (including my favorite advice for moms)– something new each day with a corresponding book giveaway

So if a patchwork of ideas interests you (and/or you want to check out the daily posts for a new book or two) stop back by.

Sign-ups for the giveaways start Saturday the 21st: I was initially allowing four days to sign up for each selection, but a friend more experienced in giveaways said I ought to allow at least a week, so that’s what you’ll have:  One week to sign-up for each book (I’ll post the winner at the bottom of the comments when each sign-up closes.)

The links along the top and sides will tell you all you need to know about me and Untangling, and give you a fair idea of the forest you have stumbled into.

I hope you enjoy your time here,

I never lose a book (but I might lose me…)

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That is, since I re-did my bookshelves, I’ve always been able to find whatever book I’m looking for.  If it’s mine.

You see, if it’s mine it finds a home among other books of its type so I always know where to go when I’m looking for something.

But library books are another issue altogether.

Library books have no definitive home– because even when I put them dutifully away on the “library book shelf” in the living room their proximity to the ground seems to translate them, substantially, from Something-To-Be-Read (and let alone until read) into Things-To-Be-Carried.

Like all books in our house they are treated with utmost respect, but it is the respect Eliza Dolittle would get from Col. Pickering: genuine, but oblivious.

So I’ve lost the book I meant to finish next (A Curse as Dark as Gold, that I quoted from here), and it’s really annoyed me.  I’ve checked all the usual places and now all that’s left is to wait till this bug finishes its sweep and we dig out the corners again.

~

In the meantime I’ve dabbled with the idea of helping to organize a fundraiser that should take place in about 2 months.

The impossibility of this is emphasized on at least one web site: Nine women working together cannot produce a baby in one month! it insists. In the same way you cannot expect to put together a fundraiser faster just because you have more people.

But I have to wonder about the doom and gloom.

This particular event has been in place for more than 5 years, and involves (in an original stroke of genius) each hostess supplying both the food and guests for her table, so I think what’s left to us would be venue and program, mostly.

I said keep me in the loop, because I want to help the cause (our local CareNet Pregnancy Center) but when I shifted off my brain-storm document and back into my re-write I felt such a distinct chink of a fit it made me nervous.

Not about the fit of the writing, but about the fact that the other work was not.    With my life wound so tightly just now I wonder (almost fear) if I’ve stepped into a tripwire.

~ ~ ~

Found a redundant scene to cut. I’ll work the best parts into the later confrontation. Finished clean-up on 26 and 27.

More Than Half-way

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Novel status report:

Finished cleaning up scenes 22 and 23 (out of 41)  last night.   They went much smoother than I’d expected, and instead of cutting half of one and rewriting the whole of the other (what I’d been expecting) I massaged in a twist I’d been playing with and it made everything work.

Amazing.

Since this is my first novel everything feels new.  I’m the puppy, spinning about wildly, seeing spring for the first time and not wanting to miss any of it.  I have to wonder if I’ll end up some mellow, staid breed (once I grow up) or if I’ll be more like Joule, perennially excited at each new glimmer, change and opportunity.

~

The latter sounds like the better path for an artist, but just now it also sounds very inefficient and exhausting (did I already say we had our first winter bug sweep through the house this last week?  I was blessed to escape with only a headache, but everyone else has had it worse.)

I had a spike in my sense of urgency to finish this animal, but realized it doesn’t make a lot of difference in my time available.  I’m choosing to be content with regular progress rather than moving toward hand-flapping urgency that can’t accomplish anything anyway.

Wow, that sounds mature.  (Right?  Right?)

Does this say something about me?

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I hit my favorite used book store’s annual 50%-off sale yesterday.  Came home with 40 kids books (picture books, schoolbooks and YA novels) for 25-cents apiece, and just over a dozen grown-up books for a dollar each.

I also picked up a crate of nice books that were individually priced because they were “special” and among these were

  • The complete Burton translation of The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night (6 volumes in 3 fat books) for $5 on-sale– awesome score for my collection, and
  • Dragons: a natural history
    • Mentioned because this one has already made me start considering whether I ought to change my lindorm’s appearance.  I’ll do a separate post about that when/if it’s confirmed.
      • What’s in question is whether the monster will have two limbs or none.  I have to work the math and see what side is better for the story as I can find either type useful.

Putting all those books away was plenty fun, and I had to laugh when during the process I noticed the audio course Argumentation, Part 1 was right next to an unread copy of Making Friends.

Two Randoms

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I *loved* this part in the dedication of the book A Curse Dark as Gold:

And lastly to my husband, Christopher, for always being there.  If I wrote you into a story, no one would believe you were real.

The problem with finding something that expresses your thoughts so perfectly is knowing you can’t use it yourself. . .

~

Has anybody told you about what to expect in your thirties?

The question came from a person who is very positive, so I didn’t fear the answer as much as I would have from another source, but still I felt myself bracing for what would come next.

It’s *fabulous* (she said).  You’ve got all this stuff worked out and foundations settled in your twenties that you can just use and enjoy it all in your thirties.”

And while I have an inherent mistrust for the exaltation of any age (after all, it will eventually be over), I can certainly see this “best of the thirties” being rolled into the forties and beyond.

So I’m thankful for the encouragement and the timing.  It will be at 30 that I truly have to knuckle down to an actual teaching regimen.  The implication (and growing evidence) I could be at a “cruising” stage in my thinking and functioning takes a huge load off my mind.

RAFTS

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What do you call that texting shorthand that relies heavily on abbreviations (RU OK?) and initials (BTW/KWIM)?

I just came up with one I think is original, and whether or not it is, it is supremely appropriate for me: RAFTS

As in, Random Advice From a Total Stranger.

The internet seems made for this: we’re all throwing out RAFTS at some time or another, me (I suspect) more than many.

So there you go.  If it’s new and spreads across the net (“Hope you don’t mind RAFTS, I was just hoping it might help”), you’ll know where it started.

Or you’ll laugh at how slow I am to catch on. {shrug} As long as it’s not in my face…

About Ballooning

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When I started preparing for NaNoWriMo the first time I conceived this novel project, I mapped out my expected plot on (virtual) 3×5 cards.

Just checked back in the old folder: 153 of those cards.  Thank God I didn’t try to do that with real cards.  I would have gone crazy before I ever started.

When planning, I padded the story with (optional) stories-within-story, making several characters storytellers with a habit of explaining things through application of traditional tales.

Very soon into the process (not long after I wanted desperately to quit, actually) I realized those stories, while potentially interesting, were less than unnecessary to reach word-count.

~

As I was writing, working hard to “make time” and complete word-count by deadline, I did not write chronologically.

Any time I got bored with what I was writing I jumped to another scene that was more exciting.  When Jay read the whole thing at the end of the month he commented on the breakneck pace of it all, and how much he wished for white-space and breathing room.

Then when I went back to finish I found I had to fill in all sorts of holes.  When I started doing that I realized I wasn’t clear enough about my goals and where I was going, so everything I added felt like mere fluff.  Filler.  Pointless word-count when what I wanted was a coherent story.

My word-count would creep up and I’d instantly mistrust it.  It’s sprawling; growing too fast! and I restructured and re-visioned it, choosing to make these big changes mainly on the insecurity I felt in the story.

And now, with more words than I’d imagined spending on one story, I finally know exactly where everything is supposed to be and how it should turn out.  It makes all the difference in the world in terms of confidence.   I’m getting to the place where actual length means less to me then the quality of the story.

That is, when I’m writing I have no measure of anything other than word output.  Now I’m in wow.

Current scene-count is 42.  Nuts I know.  After the current pass through I’ll go back with the red pen and see what we might do without.  But maybe it’ll all belong.  I’m trying not to think about that now.

One of the things I’ve been working at through this noveling process is maintaining a larger view of reality (whole novel, needs and writing process) while focusing enough on the small bits that I don’t get overwhelmed.

And I got to apply it to living today: did stuff with my sick kids and absolutely *nothing* on the house.  And it all felt okay.  Especially when after they were all in bed I got to watch Chuck with Jay and still clean up two more scenes.

Oh, and I hate DST.  In case anyone is wondering.