Yearly Archives: 2009

GYWO “Freedom Edition”: July 4, 2009

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It’s time for the word count that I forgot to do on June 30th. I need to set some kind of reminder!

I started doing this at the beginning of the year, based on a Livejournal community doing the same thing. I missed the deadline by a few days :( so I decided to challenge myself to do it.

The idea is based upon the adage that only 10% of your material will be usable, and if that’s true then the only way to produce quality writing is to write more.  So in order to write more … I uhm…. write. More.

Hence, Get Your Words Out.

What Counts?

For the structured program, any purposeful writing– blogs, snippets, drabbless, short stories, long form, etc.

For me, I count anything I wrote on purpose except for blog posts. And I don’t think I counted anything I wrote for the writing class, since they tended to only be a paragraph or two at most.

My Progress

I started the year with a goal of 200,000 words, mostly because I had just started really writing and wasn’t sure what I was capable of. It sounded like a good, lofty goal that I could work hard to achieve. Months later, I realized I was going to surpass my goal because I am, as they say in literary circles, wordy. *shrug*

I met my goal in May, and reset it to 300,000. I’ll just keep moving it until I hit December 31 and we’ll see where I end up. I plan to do NaNoWriMo this year so that will be 50,000 words– I’m sure to surpass 300.000 by November 30.

Let’s see where I am so far!

Goal: 300,000

Previous Count:249568

New Words:  18613

New Count: 268,271

Words to go: 31,729

I’m very excited about that number! \o/ It represents a lot, for me. Mostly that I am doing something I never thought I could do. And the more I do it, the better I will. get. HUZZAH!

Write on!

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I just can’t.

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I can’t. CANNOT. take anymore right now.

It just occurred to me tonight that I haven’t blogged since last week, but I set up this blog to be my writing blog and not a personal one (because my personal life is so boring even *I* am not interested in it, let alone enough to write about it. There’s nothing exciting about ‘got up, went to work, came home, wrote, went to sleep’. Meh) and I haven’t really had much ‘writey’ things to blog about. And, I find that I can either write, or I can blog about writing. I’d rather write, so I’ve been plugging toward completion on my WIP. Soon, these voices will stop talking to me (or each other) in my head, and I can move on to some other voices.

I recently finished a writing class and I’d like to take another one, so I’m on the hunt for something I can do online or via correspondence that doesn’t cost 17 million dollars. I got a lot out of the class I took, namely the correct terms for things I’ve been doing instinctively, and tried to break some bad habits (like adverbs). I picked up tips on effective story telling, drawing the audience in and even a great chapter on dialogue. I wrote a few pieces for the class as well, short snippets that are somewhere along the weekly posts I was doing.

I’d like to take another because, well frankly, I feel like I need to be pushed a bit harder. Of course, I’m scared of being pushed harder, but right now while I’m not being pushed, I think I need it. I review my twitter list several times a day and sometimes I’m just so jealous at the talent I see. People working hard on 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 12th books, plugging away at them and offering great advice. I feel so way behind everyone else and like I’m the kindergartner looking at the big kids playing from behind the gate on the playground. Wishing I was a big girl and could play, too. Why doesn’t anyone tell new authors that you can’t become Mark Twain in a year? That whole ‘this looks easy’, thing that famous authors do is very misleading and deceiving, inside my brain. I know it takes hard work and a lot of rejection, but the notion that I ‘can’ write makes me want to just pop out something and be world famous, simply because I write. It’s just way more than that, I’m learning. Like 1% talent and 98% skill and about another %1 good luck. Or voodoo, which ever you believe.

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Too High to Get Over (Yeah, Yeah)

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Too Low To Get Under

… stuck in the middle and the pain is thunder…

The world lost an icon yesterday. Three of them this week—Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and then suddenly and unexpectedly, Michael Jackson.

Jackson’s career spanned decades, producing over 700 million albums sold worldwide, numerous sold out concert tours and the greatest selling album of all time with Thriller. From the Jackson 5 to the Jacksons to that skinny kid in loafers, tight red pants and a red leather jacket with way too many zippers and a jheri curl crooning ‘Beat it… Beat it… no one wants to be defeated’, Michael set the world on fire with his music, his bright beautiful smile, his childlike persona and great big philanthropic heart.

The tributes are rolling in and people are waxing nostalgic and celebrating his life as a musician and an entertainer. There is not an artist in the business today who was not touched or changed by Michael’s career– his work ethic, his drive, his sheer musical genius, or simply just the way he moved. I see his influence in some of today’s most popular artists—Usher, Rihanna, Chris Brown, and some of my personal favorites– *Nsync’s Justin Timberlake and JC Chasez. Even the group itself, like New Edition and Boys II Men, was a complete emulation of the Jackson 5—a brotherhood, five voices that jointly combined to create one beautiful, melodious, harmonious sound.

I was just emailing with one of my mother’s friends, with whom I am pretty close—have known her since I was 12. She was just saying how devastated she was to hear the news. Many people know that my family is very religious—my father is an Elder, my mom’s friend’s husband is Deacon and Superintendent. My mom has been known to preach a word or two herself, so I come from a pretty conservative background. Even so, when Tupac died—that hit us all hard. He was young, and talented and had something to say. And now that Michael is gone, I can’t imagine the impact that this is having on my parents. Three generations have been touched by his music—people from my parent’s era literally grew up with Michael and his brothers. I’m in my 30’s and I enjoyed the height of his career as it was happening. And my younger friends, 80’s babies, enjoy his legacy and the artists that have been inspired by him.

One of the reasons this, and the death of Tupac and James Brown and Aaliyah and Lisa “Left Eye” Lopez , and all the other musicians of color that have passed touches us in such a way is because it wasn’t that long ago that black people—Black Americans—were fighting to be considered human beings and not property. For the right to ride a bus and live among other races and sit in the same places, drink from the same fountains, eat the same food, breathe the same air. To see someone from a previously (and if you listen to pop culture, still) oppressed group of people rise up out of hard, laborious living, out of the ghetto, out of poor conditions and rise to stardom. To gain the respect of not only their own people, but people of other races. Not just in the US but WORLD. WIDE. Michael was a symbol of everything black people could be, could aspire to, could become. Amid controversy and personal turmoil, he made us proud. He made us defend him. He made us worship him.

The most torturous presence in Michael’s life, except perhaps, for his own self loathing, was the press. The ever critical, ever present blinding glare of the spotlight. He ran from it, tried to escape it but you can never escape the watchful eye of the media. Kind of sad that because they never left him alone, never let him live a normal life, never let him escape, that his legacy will live on, forever memorialized in film, in song, in print. I guess that is the silver lining. The rainbow. The bright side.

It’s hard to say, even harder to do, but I’m going to try to celebrate Michael’s life, and enjoy the memory of him that lives in my mind.

Lithe, flexible, electric, in sparkly socks and penny loafers and one glove and a Fedora. And a big, bright, beautiful, hopeful smile.

yeah you better smile

Thank you Mr Jackson, for all that you gave us. Rest in Peace.

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You like me! You really like me!

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Cue dramatic music…………and scene!

YAY, I got another award! I might just have to keep up this blogging thing. It’s awesome on the ego!

KM Weiland over at Wordplay has passed on the “Lova Ya” award to The Sweet Escape!

The “Love Ya” Award states: These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to other bloggers who must choose to pass it on and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award!

I am flattered and pleased to accept this award and *air kisses* to KM for having such a worthy blog. I LOVE it over at WordPlay. If you’re not following her on twitter (@KMWeiland) you’re missing some of the best, most inspirational tweets, EVER. I often feel like I’m all alone, ’til I see one of her great quotes and then I am encouraged and inspired. Thanks KM!

So I need to pass this award on… and while I love all of the blogs I read, I have to choose a few that stand out, to me:

  • Jennette Fulda, Pasta Queen: You’ll laugh your ass off. She did. Also author of  Half Assed- A Weight Loss Memoir
  • Emily Sandford, Skinnyemmie : Becoming Skinnyemmie is about becoming happy and healthy. And having a really cute blog.
  • Allison Duckworth, How Much Is A Duck Worth? :Boy Meets Girl, Boy and Girl get married, Boy and Girl have the most adorably charming baby on earth. (Allison is also a talented photographer for pregnancy shots, baby photos, newborn pics, family portraits done in an innovative and gorgeous way. Check out her site at ElevenThirtySix Images)

Thanks, KM, and the lovelies who keep me truckin’ along everyday via the written word. BLOG ON!

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GYWO: June 21

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Time for another edition of Get Your Words Out!

Yeah I haven’t updated this count since May 1. Holy goodness. Good news is, I don’t think I’ve written much in the last six weeks, so it should be an easy one!

At the end of April I surpassed my goal of 200,000 words. Uh, that was supposed to be Jan- Dec ya’ll. I’m wordy. So I increased my goal level to 300,000 and kept on truckin.

So, now on……..June 21st, I am going to count everything I’ve written since May 1.


Goal: 300,000

Previous Count:208,562

New Words: 41006

New Count: 249568

Words to go: 50432

I didn’t include a chapter of AIWD because I’m not quite sure I didn’t count it in the May 1 count… it’s fine, I am doing well on my numbers, so if I didn’t count it, it doesn’t matter. This number was boosted by starting a new piece– which I am totally stuck on, now.

So now I am back on track and provided I write something before June 30, I will have another count then.

*Just for my own reference point: counted everything through Ch 19(AIWD)  and page6 (ST)


I’ve got to get a move on… and yet here I sit.

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busy-lady

I mean, I don’t have to go anywhere. But I have ‘things’ to do:

1. I am two lessons behind on my Advanced Fiction Writing. Don’t want to let Mr Alcorn, my professor, down. Now that he knows where my blog is, I’ll just assume he’s reading it. :\ I’m also in the class with Becky and I sure can’t fall behind her. We’re in this together!

2. Chapter 19 is a hurking two parter to “All I Wanna Do” the longest story in the history of stories. Not really. It’s just long. I need to edit part one and post it for the “grabbyhands” at the Fiction Archive to read and enjoy and tell me how much they love me and adore my writing. *shrug* A girl can dream.

3. I already wrote my review for The Chosen One. I finished it last night, and didn’t want to take weeks to review it like I did with Dark Places. By the time I reviewed it I almost had to read it again. I couldn’t remember important things like NAMES. So that’s done. Score one for ME!

4. I have to write more of The Nanny, my ode to the Lifetime Movie. Hopefully will get to that later today.

5. Woven between my literary achievements will be the conquer of Mt St Laundry. Because, OMG. Okay it’s not bad, just… I hate laundry.

I think five is a good round number of tasks. And considering I only average finishing about 3 of 5 tasks, that’s a good place to stop.

On with the day!

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The Chosen One- [Review]

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The Chosen One The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Carol Lynch Williams presents a heart pounding, engaging novel about a girl growing up in a Polygamist community, under the watchful eye and controlling thumb of a God-like figure, The Prophet. The Chosen One seems ripped from recent headlines about the infiltration of these communities and rescues of children ordered to marry men more than twice their ages, bear children, and become one of several wives.

Kyra is 13, impressionable and yet keenly aware that the way her family lives isn’t usual or normal or maybe not even right. She dares to do things she is not supposed to do– like read, speak to boys, sneak off and be alone with them under cover of darkness. The story begins with a visit from the most respected and revered man in the community– The Prophet.

The entire family is anticipating good news, especially Kyra’s father. It is not good news when it is decreed that 13 yr old Kyra will marry her 60 year old uncle, and become his seventh wife! Instantly Kyra is rebellious and obstinate. Not only does she not want to marry an old man, she doesn’t even like her uncle. The Prophet, however, has spoken. He says that God had decided who she will marry. She is to obey.
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Performance Anxiety

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So, yesterday was a pretty easy day, at work. And when the day is easy, I try to pull out something I’m working on and give it a go, despite the fact that I can’t really write at work, due to the distractions. It was quiet, though,and the boss was gone and the atmosphere was perfect. PERFECT, I say.

Except….it wasn’t. It was quiet, for sure. My thoughts were rolling around in my head, and I was reading and editing and then I wanted to explore a tangent and started to type and all I could hear was KLUNK KLUNK KLUNKETY KLUNK KLUNK KLUNK. My keyboard is SO LOUD. And I type fast. And a lot (I’m quite verbose, once I get going) and so all I could think was someone coming up behind me going, ‘what are you working on?’  I always feel guilty if I have to close out what I’m doing when my boss comes out of his office. That is a sign that I shouldn’t be doing whatever I’m doing. For sure, I couldn’t look up at them and say, “well, it’s another installment of my fanfiction series, it’s a romance and my main character is meeting his love interest’s family for the first time, and it’s really awkward because……….” Yeah, so no. I didn’t want to get caught.

So I had to close the page and pretend to work, which is harder than actual working. And, of course, because I couldn’t write, I had all these ideas of things I wanted to bring out, some I wanted to tone down, conversations I wanted them to have. Need to punch up the emotion here, add more descriptive terms there…. but I COULDN’T.

It was like having to ……. use the facilites but you CAN’T. Have to hold it in, until you get home. Drove. me. Mad.

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On Editing

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Transcript for #writechat 061409

I missed today’s  #writechat because I’ve been staying up until 1 or 2am writing and it finally just came crashing down on me this afternoon. Slept for hours and hours. And now I’ll be awake for hours and hours. Yikes. This happens every Sunday, and tomorrow I will be sleepy and cranky because I can’t sleep tonight.

I would have loved to participate, because it was on editing, something that is the bane of my existence but it so necessary. My process is almost obsessive, but, reading through the chat, I find I’m not the only one. Lately, I’ve been trying to just write, write, write, but if I have to stop, for any reason– to go to the restroom, eat dinner, go to work, any reason– I can’t just pick up where I left off. I have to go back and edit, and write what I meant to say, and put those missing words in, and fix that comma, and ‘does that dialogue seem right?’, and do some research and do more editing until it’s “right”. Only then can I move on.

And then I do another chunk until I can’t write anymore, and then I go back and edit the same way, BUT FROM THE BEGINNING. Yes, people. I am… yeah. The further a person gets away from the material, the more objective a person can be. At least that is the theory, because when I move on to a new chunk, I’ve separated myself from the first piece and my mind is elsewhere. When I read from the beginning again, I’m kind of reading with new eyes and I see things I should have said better, in a different way. Not only that but reading back from the beginning helps me make sure the chunks fit together like a puzzle piece.

One of the last comments on today’s chat was from @KarlBimshas, who asked: When looking back at your old writing (years) what percent impresses you and what percent horrifies you?

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I’m in the mood….

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illustration by Anthony Russo

illustration by Anthony Russo

I don’t mean that the way it sounds.

Sometimes when I’m going to do something that I sort of don’t want to do, I change the atmosphere so that it becomes inviting. A pile of papers to file? Turn on some music, set a timer, make it a game to see how many pages I can file in X amount of time. Got to unload the dishwasher, scrub the bathroom, fold laundry? I usually call up one of my yappy friends and let them talk to me so I’m distracted and I don’t realize I’m doing the things I didn’t feel like doing.

When it comes to writing, it’s not that I don’t want to do it… it’s that sometimes I just have ideas, because things write themselves in my head. Ideas write themselves in my head and then I leave it up to my fingers and my brain to form those ideas into words that make sense and have meaning and impact. And to me, that’s work. It’s enjoyable, but it’s work, kind of like having kids or being married (neither of which I have experienced, but every mom or wife says ‘oh gosh, it’s hard work. It’s fun, but it’s hard work’).

So, when I sit down to write, the atmosphere has to be conducive. I have friends who can sit down in 15 minutes during their break at work and shoot out a drabble that makes me laugh or cry, or… something else emotional. 15 minutes isn’t even enough time for me to really get started with anything. I can’t really write at work– besides, it’s too busy and my boss is too nosy. At the most, if it’s quiet and slow, I can blog or edit a story. I cannot produce new material at work.

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