Category Archives: Writer

Experiment # 5

HPIM3570

First Sentence stick pick:

My mother was doing that thing she did.  That thing with the rag in the sink.

She was OCD about the drain and would wipe it down six times after every use of the kitchen sink.  Not three times, nor five times, always six times.  She used the same rag each time too.  The rag was nasty and full of holes but she wouldn’t replace it with another one.

“Put the rag down, it’s time to go.”

Drew a Non Sequitur stick:

The plane was two hours late.

No wonder she was more off her rocker today than usual.  She hated flying.  Waiting made it worse.

Chose a last straw stick:

The last time they saw a movie.

It was the same darned movie they were showing in flight.  She didn’t like it back then and had made loud, snide remarks during it.  Maybe finding her book in the carry-on would be better.

 

There will be no 2013 Pennwriters conference for me.

To all my Pennwriters friends… I will not be attending the Pennwriters conference this year.

The Curmudgeon’s tests have shown that he is having some seizure activity and he is not allowed to drive for a while. I do not feel as though I can go that far away from home for that long now.

Just think, I won’t be there to win baskets this year. However, this also means I won’t be there to donate my usual number of them either. I will miss you all very much. Please snag extra handouts, take copious notes, and send me copies!!!

I am crushed, heartbroken, devastated, and I will miss you all very much.

Scattered

     I see piles of unread books on the tables and more books languish in my Kindle.  I need to read but between The Curmudgeon and the dogs it seems I am not allowed to do that. 

     I hear the characters’ voices in my brain begging me to write them down and again although I need to do it I haven’t done it. 

     The house smells of wet dogs.  I need to clean and yet I haven’t done that either.

     Bitter and sweet the taste lingers on my tongue.  I think of grabbing another cup of coffee.

May conference is getting here fast

     Today I filled out my Pennwriters conference registration form and paid for it.   I am almost ready for May to get here.

     I have begun to create some baskets to donate.  I plan to shop for a dress–yes, I am going to attend the banquet this year.  I wouldn’t miss Hank for the world.

     I’ve started putting leftovers in the freezer in containers that The Curmudgeon can heat  in the microwave for dinners while I am gone.  I’ve arranged to have friends check on him and the dogs for the four days I will be away too.

     I even talked to my room-mate yesterday so we are now on the same page.  Yay!

     You all have a good one!

Stranger than fiction?

      The difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to make sense.  ~Tom Clancy~

      Reality is often a strange place to live.  I’ve heard true stories and seen things that I wouldn’t dare put in my fiction writing because no one would believe it. 

      The way my mind works, I have to bounce things off The Curmudgeon to see if he thinks it is believable.  He makes for a great technical adviser but sometimes his imagination is a tad lacking and I have to ask others their opinions.

     Having a wild imagination isn’t always good for a writer.  Fiction that doesn’t sound real enough will put off a reader faster than a skunk’s butt backing up to him/her.  It has to be believable enough to suspend disbelief.

     Thus, even real situations that sound too fantastic to believe will lose readers.  They must always make sense if only in terms of making sense for the story.

Letter to Me

Dear Me,

Remember when you managed to write pages upon pages in your books every day?  What happened?  You really need to figure out the whats and whys, kick them in the ass, and get back to work.  This is taking too long and it is too important to keep screwing up.

Sure, many things have happened this past year.  In fact,  for several years you’ve had a number of life changing events happen.  Don’t take them for granted, use them.

Your Father, Mother, sisters and parents in law are gone, use all that sorrow, hurt, pain, and emotion in your writing.  Stop bottling it all up inside and set it free in your writing.

Your Husband, Aunts, Cousins, and friends love you.  Embrace that love and bring that joy back into your writing.

All my love,

Me

 

On the road back to writing well

 

     I can pick up my desk top computer today.  Yay!  I hope he has good news to tell me about my data.  I am glad we purchased the lap top even though it will take a little while to pay off that once clear charge. It did come in handy for the time it took to fix my old faithful desk top.

     I will set the desk top up on my desk in the living room and take my lap top up to my bedroom.  I’ll have a place I can escape to where I can write in peace once again.   The antique desk from the MIL’s house is in the bedroom which will make it a decent writer’s retreat. 

     It will be nice to have the lap top to take with me when I find a new I-need-to-get-out-of-the-house place to write this summer.  I used to go to our local Borders but now that is closed and I really do need to find a new place.  The B&Ns here have tiny cafes and they aren’t very friendly to anyone who wants to sit there for more than a few minutes.

     I am scoping out a small coffee shop that might allow long-term seating with coffee purchases.  It isn’t far from the house and their coffee is wonderful.

Oh, muse of mine, return to me

 

          Oh, please muse of mine come kick me in the a** and jump-start my writing.  Seek me out and hold a gun to my head–make me write.   

     Take the blank spaces in my brain and fill them to overflowing with words.  Make the words dance and the voices come back to sing operas.

      Make my fingers fly over the keyboard telling the tales locked up inside me.

Write the perfect want ad

    

     My body is flabby.  My brain is flabbier.  I am out of shape both physically and mentally.  Although I’ve quit smoking and am eating healthier meals I find I’m gaining pounds by leaps and bounds.

     I’ve tried exercising but since I’m basically a very lazy person I tend to fade fast.  That also goes for any writing exercises I’ve tried.  My brain tends to overload rather quickly.

     At this point, I’m beginning to think that I not only need a personal trainer to kick me physically back into shape, but I also need a personal writing trainer to tie me to my desk and hold a gun to my head.

     Maybe one that does both.  How does one write that want ad?  How would you write it?

Writing exercise

     Take a line from one of your books and improve on it, exaggerate it, go over the top!    

     Curiosity got the better of me; I tugged the gate open and slipped into the run. 

     Curiosity grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, threw me through the open gate, and into the run.

     I blushed for the second time. 

     I felt the heat of blood infuse my face and knew it looked like a red neon sign for the second time.  I could almost picture the cartoon arrow flashing above my head ‘look here, look here!’ 

Time to whip myself back into shape

 

     I find that my muse has completely jumped ship.  She’d better get her butt back here soon.  It’s as though my brain caught a computer virus and shut down.  Not a good thing.

     I’m thinking that I probably need to jump start my creativity with a good infusion of  writing exercises.  In other words, my brain needs to get some exercise.  Come to think of it so does my body, the no smoking has added a few pounds.

     Oh, how exciting, me a lazy person, has not only quit smoking, but I am now going to exercise both brain and body. 

     You, my dear readers, might be subjected to some writerly exercises for a while until my brain gets the idea that it is NOT on vacation and MUST work.  You will also be subjected to me bitching about exercising my body.

     Be prepared, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.  This isn’t going to be pretty.

Calgon, take me away!

 

     With the MIL’s house almost ready for painting, I had hoped my stress levels would drop knowing we might be able to put it on the market soon. 

     Then we got the county tax, city tax, and school real estate tax bills for the house.  EEEEEKS!!!!  I can’t believe how high they are when compared to ours.  Double taxes, double utilities, double maintenance, this completely sucks.  Moreover, we haven’t received the estimate for the roof repairs yet and we still have to pay for the funeral.

     Excessive stress doesn’t help when it comes to writing.  I find myself getting easily distracted all the time.  Even reading, which for me is a passion, is difficult.  All I can do is wait it out and hope for the best.