Varied and Sundry Thoughts

• So Blogger gave me some troubles this week. People couldn't comment, Julie thought I went to Florida...it was crazy. That may be an exaggeration. At any rate, the problem appears to have been fixed, so comment away.

• It's Banned Books Week. In case you wondered, I'm against them. It seems obvious, doesn't it? Of course a writer would be against banning books. Except I read a blog this week (I won't say which one because it and its people are otherwise awesome) where someone said they were completely against book banning. Well...except if the book was about [this one thing they were against], because that was horrible. It would be okay to ban that. No it wouldn't. 

• Is anyone else as confused as I am about what would drive Hugh Jackman to agree to star in the movie version of Rock'em Sock'em Robots? 

• NaNoWriMo's coming. There's only one more month to get yourself ready should you decide to compete...with yourself. I don't think I'll be joining in this year. I'm working on two novels at different stages and I need to get them done before I can start anything else. This makes me sad. I'll be rooting for everyone who does participate. Go WriMos!

• It's Friday. The weekend is here. Make it wonderful, everyone.

Presents

Am I the only one that hates those cotton commercials where cute young actresses sing in high, breathy voices to folk music while they ride old fashioned bicycles and contemplate their house-sized closets? No? Yes?

Moving on.

It was my birthday this week. Yay! I'm getting old! I'm okay with that, know why? Because I lurves my birthday. I take full advantage of any and all birthday privileges. Clean the house? Nope. Cook the dinner? Not me.

About the only downside is that Magnum is currently being worked like a Peruvian pack mule and practically fell asleep in his kung pao chicken. But not before he brought me a present. (In my mind, that was sing-songy, like preee-ssseeeennnt. Maybe you shouldn't be in my mind.)

Here's the dealio, I'm a pragmatist. I do very little splurging. Okay, so I have a weak spot for cute shoes, but I don't go overboard. For instance, I would never buy these regardless of how hot the fiery lust for them burns in my soul, because $170 for one pair of shoes? Dream on.

So when Barnes & Noble came out with the Nook Simple Touch mere months after I splurged on my first edition Nook (for my last happy birthday), I stamped my foot and said fake swears and "It Figures" over and over for a day or two because there are always kids nearby and real swearing is out. Damn it.

The new Nook. It was so light, and the batteries lasted so long, and it came in black. I longed to trade in my heavy white one with the corners stained red from the liner of my purse. The black one would never stain. Stupid white one.

Then I moved on. Because, not only was I being whiny when I had no real cause to be, but I had to stretch to buy the first one. To buy another? When I don't need it?  I'm too practical. Magnum, however, is no such thing.

Which means I now have a shiny new black Nook. Magnum is taking over my old one, though I think my daughter will use is more, since she's a bigger reader and there are middle grade and YA books in the e-library. Either way, my semi-old friend will get some good use. And I have a new friend. A light one with a long battery life.

Happy birthday to me!

How was your week?

Workspace

I'm stealing an idea from Kris today, because the kids gave me their back-to-school-crud and I don't think so well in the fog. Yesterday, Kris posted this picture of her desk for all to admire. And I do admire it, not just because it's cute and has the whole two monitor thing going on (which I think is cool in theory, but probably would never be able to deal with in reality), but also because it's a real live (well, inanimate) desk. You can go look. I'll wait.

Don't you love the guinea pig? Anyway, like many aspiring authors, I don't actually have a desk. I do, however, have a table. A kitchen table. On bed risers. No, really, see?

Just ignore all the cords. We do.

It's fantastic for quilting. For writing? Well, it's not exactly ergonomically correct. Which is why I do most (but by no means all) of my writing while sitting in the recliner in the living room. Though, now that I think about it, that's not particularly ergonomic either.

Everything is there for me at the table, notebooks, computer, pens and pencils, sewing machine, overflow book storage, Poly-fil, kitten in a basket...really, you couldn't ask for more. Except a door. Located at the bottom of the stairs, the table is pretty much in the middle of things, because that's the only place I've got.

Messrs. Strunk and White, what would we do without you?

See? Stairs. And oodles of quilting supplies. I should go all Jennifer Chiaverini and write a book about women who quilt. Hmmm. Probably wouldn't fit my niche. Perhaps if I threw in a dead body? Then they could all discuss how to get blood out of an antique. Nah.

Anyway there it is. Where do you work? Do you have a desk? If not, do you have as much desk envy as I do? Please share. I'm going to go get some cold medicine, so be sure to make your comments extra psychedelic.

Oh, almost forgot, I figured out what was wrong with the WIP. Turns out, it's boring. Dull. A non-rollicking snoozefest of a non-thrillride. Which is odd, because in my mind it's awesome. I'll have to work on that. In the recliner.

Of Heroes and Villains

The other morning, I was poking around in a popular writing forum I frequent (okay, mostly I lurk, but I lurk frequently), and I came across a thread where people were playing a game. One person would ask a general question, the next person to comment would answer it (specific to their own WIP) and post a new question, and on and on.

So I'm reading this thread and I notice a trend. The majority of people there referred to the protagonist as either the "main character" or the "hero," while referring to the antagonist as the "villain."

Main character, okay. No problem there. But hero and villain? Why would anyone want to limit themselves like that?

Because, let's face it, it is limiting. In my current WIP, the story begins with my protagonist quite consciously breaking the law. The antagonist is the person in charge of hunting him down. Legally. So, who's the hero and who's the villain?

Neither, really. I don't believe this story has heroes and villains. I didn't want them; they're too black and white. Too uninteresting. When I'm writing (and reading), I'm always looking for gray. Achieving it is not easy, I'm still working on that (thank the good lord for multiple drafts). But it's always the goal for me.

What do you think? I know I have a lot of romance folks around here, is the perspective different? Are you looking for protagonists and antagonists, or heroes and villains?

Weekend with the Family

As promised in Sunday's post, I spent the weekend with my family. On Sunday, it was just Magnum and me, celebrating our anniversary while the kids stayed with the grandfolks. We flitted -- yes, flitted -- from antique shop to antique shop, not once having to stop and herd children, or tell anyone not to touch something, and that includes your sister stick your hands in your pockets if you can't control them! *deep breath* We don't buy anything, the gas costs enough, but the flitting is heaven.

Saturday, on the other hand, was a Family Day. We packed everyone in the car and traveled to an amusement park. The weather was perfect, sunny, breezy, mid-70s...ahhhhh. We showed up a half-hour after the place opened and left fifteen minutes before it closed. The day was dubbed awesome by all in attendance, particularly the four year old, who declared it, "Awesome. Very awesome."

Plus, I got to ride this:



Which was fun.

How was your weekend? Good?

Loss

What I was doing then:

Driving and singing. I don't remember the tune, but I always sing along with the radio. Eighteen month old twins slept in their car seats behind me, oblivious to their perpetually off-key mother.

I was on Route 2 west, coming from Boston where I'd had a blood test to determine if I was pregnant. It was a long trip from where we lived at the time, but necessary due to medical problems. I was on my way to my parents' house for a visit before I headed back home.

They didn't cut into the song, the Breaking News wasn't quite that breaking yet. They just speculated for a minute or so before cuing the next tune. I turned the radio down to call my husband, figuring he could check CNN online or something to see just what kind of plane had hit the tower. In my mind, it was a small plane, a Cessna or Piper piloted by someone inexperienced enough for his family to get a tragic phone call that day. The news was too fresh, though, and all he could find was what I'd already told him.

My parents weren't watching when I got there, they hadn't turned on the television yet that morning. I spent the day with them, as numb and shocked and worried as the rest of the world. I worried for the families of everyone in those buildings and planes. I worried that it wasn't over. I worried for my children and what it would mean for them. I still do.

The next day, the doctor's office called to tell me the pregnancy test was positive. Two and a half months later, I was admitted to the hospital for a D&C after an ultrasound showed a baby that had died two weeks prior.

What I will not be doing today:

I will not be sitting in front of the television revisiting the losses of that autumn. They're still vivid in my memory and don't need refreshing. I don't need to see the second plane hit the second tower. I don't need to see the people fleeing the Pentagon or running from a cloud of debris while desperate people jump from the collapsing towers behind them. I don't need to see that again. Once was enough.

What I will do today is spend time with my family, celebrate my anniversary, plan my son's birthday party, everything that the victims of that day can never do again. And I will be thankful.

Writing Essentials

Today, a List! Behold, my favorite things to have at hand while I write. 

1. Coffee. I know, I know, everyone says that. But I drink decaf -- always. I don't consume caffeine. I do, however, consume warmth. Even if it's ninety degrees outside, I need warm coffee. 

2. iPod. Many of you already know I soundtrack my longer work. When I'm working, I listen to the soundtracks I've compiled. It serves the dual purpose of setting the mood and blocking out the sounds of the household. Even with shorter work, music in the background helps me concentrate. Must. Have. 

3. Munchies. Celery or carrots on good days, M&Ms* or Lemonheads on bad days. We won't go into the good day to bad day ratio. It would be depressing.

4. Sweats. Jeans? No. Khakis? No. Sweats. (Pajamas are an acceptable alternative.)

5. A blank calendar. Seriously, if you write long work (novels, memoirs, etc.) and you don't already, get yourself to a book/stationery store and buy up a few planners. As you write, jot notes for what happened on what day in your story. You'll save yourself a whole butt-load of irritation when you get to revision. 

That's it for my list. Those five things, my computer, and the occasional visit from my wrist brace, and I'm (theoretically) ready to rumble. 

What about you folks? What do you need when you sit down to work on whatever it is you work on? 

*Yes, I said I don't consume caffeine. No, this is not a contradiction. Contrary to popular belief, chocolate does not contain caffeine, it contains theobromine (that stuff that's not good for your animals). It's still a stimulant, but fortunately for me, a much milder one which does not make my heart go all bumpy-shaky. Thumbs up!

Plot Bunnies

I'm working on that plot problem with the new novel. I'm also working on final edits for the first novel. (I think. I hope.) And always, in the background, I'm working on short stories and, occasionally, submitting them (because I still need a few more rejections before I can decoupage my writing desk).

Of course, this is when the plot bunnies show up.

A plot bunny is an idea. Most writers who say the plot bunnies have shown up mean that they have more ideas for their WIP than they can possibly execute. Some may even be contradictory. They chew on everything, they poop cocoa puffs all over your keyboard, and they multiply like...well...bunnies. That's not what I mean, though.

I don't get proper plot bunnies. I get plot bunnies for different stories. New stories. Stories that have nothing to do with anything I'm working on. It's not that I'm working on, say, a mini-lop when another mini-lop shows up to romance the first and the next thing I know there are mini-lops everywhere. No. I'll be working on a mini-lop when a lionhead shows up and starts shedding on my WIP and biting my mini-lop in the butt.

Two such bunnies showed their fuzzy faces this week. I wrote them down in notebooks in an attempt to banish them from my head. The hope is that by the time I get to them, they'll have shrunken to proper mini-lop size, or else they'll have been rendered into hasenpfeffer.

More likely I'll have to ignore the cocoa puffs and prepare for additional interlopers. Or interhoppers. Whatever. Anyone have a lint roller?

On a different note, this week marks the twenty-first anniversary of my first date with Magnum, as well as the sixteenth anniversary of our wedding day. So Happy Anniversary, Magnum. Thank you for continuing to be awesome.

Why didn't anyone yell at me?

You knew it was my deadline right? Right? Okay, I guess you have a life and stuff and you didn't remember about my self-imposed deadline for the new manuscript. Which is probably for the best, because I...uh...didn't hit it.

Shameful.

The deal is, I had a plot issue this month that I hadn't seen coming. A major plot issue. It's one of the hazards of having a 25:75 plotter to pantser ratio. Maybe. That might be an assumption on my part. I'm just going to go with it, 'kay?

Anyway, I could power through, but that would require systemic rewrites later. Since I'm not yet on anyone's deadline but my own (notice the optimistic "yet"), I decided to halt production and get that shiatsu together.

Overall, it's going well. I'm not getting as much writing done as I'd like, what with back to school season, soccer season, curriculum nights, orientation, and a very lonely four-year-old, but I am writing, so it's good.

On an unrelated note, Kate is still without power as her area was hit with Mother Nature's splitting maul (she calls it Irene, did you know?). I'm sure she'd appreciate whatever good thoughts you have to spare.

Have a great Labor Day weekend, everyone.