whatchoo gonna do?

for the sake of non-repetition, i'm just going to stop apologizing for sporadic posts and making promises for more frequent ones. what can i say? i'm streaky.

i have no idea what to write about. i'm only on here because i need to procrastinate with the book writing, and chris is glued to the new harry potter like i used to be glued to quarter pounders with cheese. that is to say, he is quite engaged. so, here's some random miscellanea:

-- i liked the deathly hallows, though not as much as some of the other books, which i think has a lot more to do with my newly discovered inner editor than any flaw in her imagination of the novel.

-- i registered for the surrey international writer's conference today, and i am alternating between moments of insane fury (WHY haven't they confirmed my fax registration by email yet???), rolling nausea (what am i thinking, believing i can successfully pitch my totally unfinished novel to kristin freaking amazing nelson?) and pure excitement (OMG, OMG, OMG, kelley armstrong, diana gabaldon and jack whyte might TALK to me!). luckily for me, and unluckily for you, i get to go up and down this emotional roller coaster for another three months. that means much blog-worthy angst and mania.

-- the exhaust support structure for the portable air conditioner i bought last week won't fit into our ridiculously small basement suite sized windows. i have to wait until tomorrow to call customer service for alternate suggestions because the fascist manufacturer is based in backwards ontario, and has been closed for the last three and a half hours.

-- the muscles in my abs, back and thighs are absurdly, whine-inspiringly sore, and i have no idea why. yes, i've worked out, but i haven't changed my workout's intensity or duration, so i don't know wtf.

-- my mom is sick with some sort of hitherto undiagnosed illness, and it's driving me nutso not knowing what's wrong with her. i live in constant fear of yet another person i love calling and telling me that they have the big c. fair warning: if my mom has the big c, you can just count on me to lose my shit. lose. my. shit. lock me up, give me a straight jacket, and padded walls. and then take me to visit my mommy so i can take care of her.

-- i'm not writing my book right now, and i don't know why. i can't say it's the publishing fear, really i can't. usually when i procrastinate, that's what it is. not this time. this time, i'm kind of scared that i can't write creatively anymore, that i spent so much time writing to please a potential publisher i don't remember the elements that made my writing unique back in the day. i'm hoping that writing this blog post will jump start the book writing, because it has in the past. fingers crossed.

-- i think i'm getting an out-of-the-house research job, and a very large part of me feels very 'eek' about that. however, it's time to wake the hell up and smell the burnt coffee that is life. the reality is that even if i finish the book, find an agent, and get the book published, i won't make enough per book to support myself financially. therefore, i probably need to get used to the very real world lifestyle of waking up early to exercise, getting ready, taking the bus downtown to work, coming home and hopefully having enough energy to write, because let's face it folks -- i'm not going to make enough money from writing to be materially comfortable, especially not with my boyfriend on strike. yet the prospect of facing this reality is most daunting, and frightening, because i have much at stake on other levels. i worry that this job will interfere with the book writing (what book writing? what?), with the healthy lifestyle changes i have made for myself (which are good for my health in so many ways i don't have enough fingers to count), with the largely stress free mental space i've got now. but alas, you never know until you try, and if i hate the job, i can always burn my bridges and quit, right? also, on the brighter side, the job might eliminate stress about finances, introduce me to new and nice people, and impose an external schedule that would actually force me to work on the things that are important to me rather than procrastinate by writing on my blog.

-- i should have hired a wedding planner.

-- i've decided on a honeymoon location, and i am freaking thrilled about it. can we just skip the wedding part and get on with the honeymoon part?

-- there's nothing good on tv this time of year.

-- i need some good book recommendations. anyone got any ideas?

-- i've been trying, and succeeding, at reading more. i think the more i read books, the more i am inspired to write books. the more i read publishing blogs, on the other hand... at any rate, just finished the year of magical thinking by joan didion and storm front by jim butcher. totally different books. magical thinking is a memoir about death and loss and grief, and it is both well-written and incredibly touching. i bawled at numerous moments because didion manages to communicate the intimacy of her relationship and the chaos of her loss in such a way that the reader can remember and imagine their own losses. it's a very good book, though certainly not happy reading. storm front is the first book in the dresden files series by butcher. i tried to read this series months ago, and totally hated it. i think i started with a middle book instead of the first book. anyway, for some reason -- i think because of butcher's inclusion in the urban fantasy pantheon along with hamilton, armstrong, harrison and harris -- i decided to attempt a re-read and boy, was i wrong the first time. i really enjoyed butcher's world building, and his main character, harry dresden, is funny and interesting. he's also a wizard listed in the yellow pages who consults for the police on the weird and whacky cases. butcher does a good job of melding back story with description and action, and he has great technical writing skills. there are times that the drama is a bit overwrought, but i'm willing to overlook that for all the other great things he brings to the table. page. whatever. the point is -- reading books is good for me. i should have a book on the go all the time. now, if only the publishing industry could manage to produce enough good ones for me to read. (did i mention that if i like a book, it rarely lasts for more than two days?)

-- it's getting hot again, and i don't like that at all.

i've got lots of other stuff to update, i could do this forever, but i'm bored, so i'm going to go try something else now. thanks for listening.

this post is...

more filler, in a likely futile attempt to make sure that i post at least once each week on the blog so as not to lose my loyal readership. i know, today is wednesday, technically 9 days after my last post, but i figure as long as i do one today and one sometime next week, i am keeping with my pledge.

on one hand, it's a real bitch to start writing when you don't know what you're going to write about, but on the other hand, it's freeing. though i've written my book without an outline, i've always known the major plot points i want to hit on before i sit down to write the next chapter. there's a lot of constraint now in the way that i write personal demons. i think about how much i use the word 'that', how often i speak in the passive voice, how often i modify 'said' with a much-maligned adverb (i.e. she said sadly, angrily, throatily, wryly, etc. etc.). i think about how a character is going to be read. my characters aren't nearly dramatic enough sometimes. for the most part, they are intelligent, emotionally sound, reasonable people. at times this does not make for interesting interplay, so i have to try and create conflict between people who, like me, can certainly participate in a conflict successfully if they are thrown into one, but don't particularly relish instigating one because they are bullheaded, immature, or asshole-y. so, yeah, it's kind of different to sit down to blog, and not have any clue where i'm going with it or what i'm going to say. i'm glad i made this pledge to myself, because i think it will help my writing overall, and it will help me keep in touch with you, dear reader.

on a related topic, i was forced to pick up a copy of bill gates's latest money-making, fascist program -- otherwise known as microsoft office. maybe i wasn't forced, so much as coerced. i need to have a registered copy for my job, since some of my work is legal-like, and my employer's employers would no doubt look down upon a researcher who plies her trade on bootlegged software. i was at first quite miffed to see that microsoft outlook is not included in this year's student/teacher bundle. it was replaced by something called 'one-note.' i scoffed to myself, "what is this one-note?" and purchased it anyway because i need the word, excel and power point programs. just for shits and giggles, i opened the one-note program, and to my surprise, it was an over-organized virgo's wet dream. i've had it for weeks now, and still haven't figured out all the fabulous functions. (oh, god, i can't believe i'm plugging for microsoft! ew! someone stop me!) one-note is made up of, get ready for it.... notebooks! and within each notebook, there are pages. so for example, i have a personal notebook with pages for shopping lists, account numbers (password protected, of course, and none related to money, only things like chapters and amazon usernames), books and music to pick up, and recipes; i have a work notebook with pages for billing hours, project ideas, and notes; and i have a writing notebook with pages for personal demons revisions and notes, gagan's second book (as yet untitled, obviously), and ghostkeeper, a new idea rattling around in my head that i might write between personal demons and gagan's second book. the Very Best Function of one-note so far that comes in verra handy for work is that when you cut and paste text or pictures from a web page, one-note automatically records the website from whence it came! this is so fabulous! no more writing a quote in my reports and asking myself, "now where did you retrieve this from, and on what date?" it also does some desktop wiki stuff, i think, that i haven't played with yet. the tool bars are fancy pants, and have every imaginable tag or highlight, again, some of which i haven't tried out. all i know is one-note is a veritable playground for the person who'd rather organize their information than get down to business. who, me?

i waited all this time for THAT?

fair warning, dear reader, that will be your question when you finish reading this post which consists of a heaping helping of bitch with a side of aged whine (with a floral bouquet).

a person shouldn't post on their blog when they are feeling depressed, by the way.

am having, predictably (god, i hate how boring i am), and yet again, book publishing angst. sure, i'm not done yet, am only maybe 2/3 of the way done, but i am thinking about the quality of my writing a lot which leads to the question of getting an agent, and getting published, and finally, getting paid. i am not a deep person. i don't have deep writing. i write in a genre that is hot, hot, hot right now, but might be not, not, not hot by the time i finish. i'm not writing in the genre because it's hot, but because i love it. whether or not i love it does not matter to the publishing industry. sometimes, love just ain't enough.

so the question is -- how do i motivate myself to write through these doubts? i am a goal-oriented person. don't laugh. i really am. i need to have predictable outcomes, need to know that if i input a, i will get output b. and with this whole writing thing, it's driving absolutely fucking crazy that i don't know what the outcome is going to be -- i mean i know i will have a 300 page book manuscript on my hard drive, and that's something important... but the other stuff is important too. the recognition that what you have done is worth someone else's time. the fact that it's out of my control past a certain point makes me feel, to paraphrase frodo, like butter scraped over too much bread. or, alternatively, like my head is going to explode.

to all my fan(s?)

today, while chatting with margarita, i was very politely berated (it wasn't really a beration, it was more of an encouragement, but she called it that, so i must respect her agency in naming her words) because i don't post on my blog enough. she is completely right. totally and completely. it's not as though i don't have time. it's not as though i don't have shit to talk about -- i must, for all the time i spend chatting with you all on various chat programs. and then there's my own blog habit. my list of bookmarked blogs is now about as long as my very large flat panel computer monitor and i check them all at least once a day. so i am READING blogs. i'm just not WRITING my blog. (by the way, i'd be totally pissed if any of my blog peeps that i regularly read didn't post for as long as i go between posts. and yes, that's a threat AND a promise.)

now, on to our soon-to-be-regularly scheduled posting...

so i just re-read the entire harry potter series. fucking fabulous. i mean, jk rowling is a genius. i appreciate this even more now that i've been writing my own novel. she is able to weave together plot elements like magic (mwhaha), and when she does the big writing no-no -- including a scene that doesn't advance the plot or reveal something about the characters -- it is always so much fun to read that you don't care if it advances the plot or not, you could read her writing about opening a can of alphagetti.

now, i've been finished with HP and friends for a couple of weeks, so in bookless desperation, i cracked open one of chris's nelson demille books, called charm school. i like him and his stuff, generally. in fact, some of his books are downright fantastic -- see the lion's game, cathedral, talbot odyssey. this one, though... not so much. for one thing, he is writing in third person, and when the character thinks something to himself, it is put in quotation marks!!! i know it's a small thing, but it's driving me nuts, cause i keep thinking.... is someone else in the room that i missed? secondly, there are these incredibly long descriptive scenes. i know, it's the pot calling the kettle black cause i've been known to enoy writing the odd descriptive scene myself, but these are like.... about antique shops in moscow and shit. makes me wonder if he's cutting and pasting from his travel journal. oh, oh. and the sex scene! ugh! i don't expect wonders from male writers when it comes to sex scenes, but this one was just... why even have it in there at all? went something like this.... little bit of foreplay, insertion, and then... and i quote, "she grabbed his buttocks as she came." new paragraph. "he came." i do not lie, and i have not omitted anything. it was so ugh, ugh, ugh, from both a writer's perspective and a romantic's perspective. but mostly from a writer's perspective.

the point of all this is not to discourage you from reading the book, but rather to explain a VERY important realization i came to while trying to force myself further into the novel before putting it down for good. this was one of demille's first books. he's come so far as a writer and a novelist since that first one. the first one is always going to be somewhat less than perfect. it will probably have parts that are messy, parts that are awkward, parts that are anti-climactic. parts that are over-descriptive, parts where the dialogue is stilted and forced. so i don't need the first one to be perfect, i just need it to a) tell the story that's rattling around in my head and b) tell it well enough to get an agent and get that first publishing credit under my belt!

apostasy and confession

so.... it's been a while. again. i have no idea who still reads this blog. lord knows i'd stop looking for new posts if it were me. i'm going to do better, i promise. ;) have i promised that before? i'm going to have to look in my archives and see.

so here's the thing. i haven't been writing. christmas vacation in texas came up, then mom's visit, then a quick work deadline, then a break from work which i didn' take advantage of, now more work. i realized the other day that it has been almost two months since i wrote an original word. oh, i've been editing. yes, i have, almost every day. trading words for better words. correcting (i hope) grammatical mistakes. chopping up the occasional run-on sentence. you know what? that's not editing, it's an excuse.

i really do need to edit, though. when i started The Book, i had a rough idea of where i wanted the plot to go. that's it. i had three major plot points and a rather large group of main characters who i wanted to write about. now, i've got about 170 pages of rough draft, and 75,000 words. in december, it was already getting to the point that i had figured out that while my three major plot points remained, i needed some subplots and foreshadowing and whatnot. i became OBSESSED with the need to change what i had done already, to the point that i could no longer write forward. so i printed out my manuscript at the time, and started scribbling on it with a pen. didn't really do much else though. oh, i'd open word and open my files, but then i'd get distracted, or more honestly, i would avoid working on The Book. i told myself that if the files were open, i was working on it. snort. what an ass. anyway, i got depressed after that. someone told me they thought i had ADD, and i used that for an excuse for about a week -- i won't finish the book, i have ADD, i can't finish anything. i mean, i've never successfully dieted, why would finishing a book be any different? then i kicked myself in the ass because that is such a moronic excuse. writing is by damn sight a lot more fun than dieting, for one thing. so i got over the ADD thing, but then had more depression. every time i thought about editing the book, some really psychotic voice in my head would pipe up about throwing myself in front of a mack truck. that lasted for a bit. and then today, voila, i opened the fucking file and actually fucking edited. funny how when you tell your mind to shut the fuck up and just let yourself do what you need to do, life gets more simple. and more satisfying.

today, i decided to stop excusing myself and actually EDITED my first chapter, as in junked quite a bit of it and rewrote the sections i junked with my new ideas. i am VERY happy for several reasons. first, it felt so good to actually write again rather than just fiddle with words and phrases. it felt like sex after no sex for a really long time. ironically, other than sex, writing is the only thing i do that gets me completely out of my conscious mind. i know that doesn't make sense since writing requires quite a bit of 'higher' brain function, but that's how i feel. i really am one of those people who feels like they're in a fugue state when writing. i do my best work when i'm just sitting in front of the computer and letting it flow, out of 'my' control. second, i like the plot points i've foreshadowed and the bit of world building i've redone in this chapter. i have high hopes for my future editing endeavours, and for the first time in a while, i am actually looking forward to being able to write new chapters and finish the book. third, it's always good to have DONE something, rather than just thought about it to death.

and in celebration of this momentous moment, wherein i feel like i'm back on track and chugging along again, i'm announcing the working title of The Book. drum roll please. personal demons. wow. how anti-climactic.