A Week of Holidays

No, they’re not all recognized, but it seems like there’s a lot happening this week, between Valentine’s Day, Chinese New Year (Did you welcome in the Tiger?), President’s Day, Mardis Gras, and Ash Wednesday…

And that’s only in the first four days this week. I also know four people with birthdays.

While I’m not physically situated to celebrate with any of those friends, I haven’t done anything for those other five, either. It probably doesn’t count that my dad took me out to breakfast on Monday where he confirmed I would not be able to send my contest article through the mail that day.

(He’s a government employee – I forgot that the post offices were closed when he gets days off.)

I got my envelope weighed yesterday and now everything is good, but it seems like I should be celebrating something.

The baby slept in until just after seven this morning. I guess I’ll count that.

Old Novels

I think everyone has a novel idea in them somewhere. Not that everyone writes a novel or has the desire to, but the ideas are in there.

Some of these people talk about the idea to others. Sometimes people even start writing.

Do you ever wonder what happens to these ideas?

I think some of them get talked out. Eventually there is no way the paper version could even measure up to the image, or pieces get lost in the telling.

Some of them languish after a start and never get finished.

I’ve learned writing a novel is hard work. It doesn’t happen in a day or a week or usually not even a month. Those of us who finish NaNoWriMo are exhausted, with 50,000 words (more or less) to our names, and realize it needs a total overhaul before it’s really worth anything.

But most first drafts are like that.

I have two languishing from my past. One stretches back to high school, and I have notes and sketches about it somewhere. I’m not sure I ever really knew where the project was going. I’m not sure I could figure it out now. But maybe I’ll save some of those characters to make into something in the future.

The other one is much more recent- only four years past. I didn’t do enough world building at the beginning, and I’m almost to where I can make another go at it. My ideas have changed as the world has evolved. For the better, I think.

Either way, I wouldn’t be the writer I am today if I hadn’t had those ideas. I definitely wouldn’t be a writer today if I only talked about them and didn’t put pen to paper – or fingers to keyboard as the case goes now.

I read advice that says to write your ideas instead of talking about them, and for the most part I follow that advice. For one thing, it helps me hone that 100 word pitch for when I’m ready to shop it out.

Comments on My Book

Somehow, it always amazes me when the themes from my book touched my friends who read it. It shouldn’t, I’m sure, but it does.

I wrote a book about a thirteen year old girl who wanted to be popular and smart. I gave her issues with her family and her friends and in her classes.

The more the book is out there, the more I hear from people about something where they relate to Janie. It makes me smile inside (and outside) and I want to share more of my stories with more people.

Guess I’d better dig into the next project to make it ready.

About Rejections

As writers, if you’ve sent anything out to try to get published it’s much more likely than not that you’ve received a rejection for your work.

I recently saw a discussion online where the editor said she preferred it when writers thanked her for her consideration, even after a form rejection. I’ve never responded to a form rejection. I hate to waste an editor’s time when her inbox is brimming with slushy submissions. I respond to personal rejections, rewrite requests, and -of course- acceptances.

It didn’t occur to me that some of them would want a thank-you no matter what, but is the slight remembrance you get from a returned rejection better than annoyance from others?

Now I’m curious what others have to say on the subject.

A “Real” Author

I’ve seen some of those thoughts going around – am I a real writer? I had a moment today where I felt like a real author. Part of it is being published, I’m sure. But today the moment came where I read part of my book to people in a bookstore. It’s amazing!

Yes, I write. That makes me a writer more than anything else. I know that. I have respect for a lot of writers that may or may not be published, simply because of what they write. I know I have a lot of weaknesses that I’m working on, one at a time.

But I love to share my stories with people. And having people take time out of their days to listen to part of mine makes me feel like a real author. I love it!

I’m also amazed at what people can find when they research the ‘real’ author.

Thank you to everyone who could make it to Prairie Lights today. For those who couldn’t – there are some signed copies out there for sale.

Grammar

It shouldn’t amaze me about the mistakes plastered everywhere. Facebook  is full of errors that make me cringe, and I’ve come to expect that from the majority of the users. People who can’t tell a plural from a possessive seems the least of the concern there. Typos multiply like rabbits and there are a few posts I have serious trouble reading.

I know I’m a writer and somewhat snobby where grammar is concerned, but my Twitter page has fewer errors. (Probably because I’ve been following writers, a few friends who know how to string a sentence together, and some publishing professionals.)

What is it about a public page that people feel free to express themselves but don’t care enough to be understood?

Then I think about it, and I truly hope that the masses don’t degrade the language farther that an apostrophe may be used to make a word plural, exchange you’re and your as if they mean the same thing, and drop random letters if they don’t match the pronounced word.

I’m a snob. I’ll admit it. My grammar isn’t perfect, but I do my best and I appeal to higher knowledge bases when I have questions.

Football Season Begins

All right, technically I know it began last Thursday. For my team, it began today. Not that I watch a lot of football. It’s an interesting game that I don’t know all the rules for, yet. Will I ever figure them out? Probably not!

One of the things I used to look forward to during football season was hanging out with friends before, after, and even during (for those who don’t have tickets). Now that we’ve moved farther away from the Hawkeye Mecca of Iowa City, we have the Big Ten Network and my husband watches religiously.

I think I’ll have to set myself in a quiet place and write. My daughter seems to like watching football so far (crazy kid) so I’m hoping she’ll be able to hang out with Daddy and I can get things done.

Things like writing, not cleaning – the kitchen floor just doesn’t scream ‘clean me’ while the game is on. Well, really, it’s a wood floor. It doesn’t scream anything.

Picture Books

I’ve been thinking about these more often. I have some short flash fiction pieces and some poetry that I’ve thought could be good picture books lately.

Isn’t that funny how you can write for one audience, then transform it into a different one?

The flash fiction piece could go either way, adult or children’s, and I’m considering trying to spin both and see what I can do with it. The poem I was challenged at my writer group yesterday to make it unrhyming, and I realized it could also make a good picture book with that kind of rewrite.

Some of these seem to be overlapping forms. It’s neat to see where the words lead me.

In What Time Period?

Historical writings need a lot of research to make sure they’re correct. It isn’t just about the events of history – it’s the little things that make that period unique.

Certain things will put you directly into a time period, and others will pull you out. When do you think of when you think pillbox hat?

Beyond that, there are the words used. We can’t all be like Heinlein and make up words like ‘grok.’

I haven’t written historical pieces. In some ways, I find them overwhelming. When they’re done well, they’re beautiful. I know some writers who do it very well. I feel like I’m learning when I listen to the writers I know who do historical pieces.

Perhaps one day… but not today.

Friday!

Staying home with a kid (or more than one) makes Fridays a little different than for those who punch a clock. I’m still looking forward to the weekend, though.

It’s always nice to have another parent around. I might even get a break to write. You know, longer than five minutes and possibly without someone napping on my arm. I have found it very difficult to continue to type with one arm stuck underneath a sleeping baby. Don’t want to move and wake her, but struggling to stay productive. Vicious cycle.