My Fair Lady is one of my favorite movies, ever. I am prone to the classics.
I know all the songs and I sing along in bad tunes. But recently Rex Harrison has been singing one song in my head.
Right now he's chanting in my head. "By Joe, I think she's got it!" Over and over. But I have been watching Family Guy for too long and Rex Harrison looks like Stewie Griffin in my head. That alone brings up so many issues about my sanity.
Evolution has happened again, and I think I got it right this time. That's why Stewie is screaming at me with Rex Harrison's voice and Audrey Hepburn is staring at me as if I stole her show.
After my Bikini post I began to seriously think about my plot and what was wrong with it. And then this crazy idea popped into my head, as many of my ideas are.
Writing a novel is a funny thing.
I had never really understood about books and documents being a living thing.
But the bible and other religious writings speak to the people that are devoted to them. We are told in school that the Constitution is a living document, it changes, adapts and supports our country and foundations with it's words so elegantly scripted.
My novel evolves. It lives in a Frankensteinish sort of way. Even though I know what direction I want it to go, the writing dictates how it gets there. Things I desperately want to happen, and things I want my characters to say just don't work. They wouldn't do that or they wouldn't say that so a different direction I go. I follow my characters, they lead and I just write in their wake.
My story wants to survive, it hasn't given up on me and I am not about to give up on it.
And boy did I really go a different direction.
I started a whole new rewrite, a whole new perspective, a whole new beginning in a completely different part of the story line.
For the first time I love it. It feels right. That all the crap that I have written before was just clarifying back story. Setting tone and direction. Giving me the foundation to write the story that is interesting and cryptic adding a whole different element I had never thought about including before. Now there is intensity and purpose. The adventure starts right away. And then this really weird thing happened. I'm not sure how I feel about it.
I actually wrote a romantic scene and it was good, better than good. It was great. My sister even liked it. (That is saying something. She was so stinking cute. I gave her one version and asked for an opinion and she didn't really like it and she totally felt bad about it. I told her an honest critic gets books published. Telling me what I want to hear doesn't. So I rewrote the version and let her read that one and she liked it a whole lot better.)
Is it perfect no? Not yet. Is it a whole hell of alot better than anything else I have written? Bet your bottom dollar it is.
I no longer feel trapped by my stupid brain and my small computer. (Which needs a new battery. My power cord is my life line right now.)
I feel an evil laugh coming on, but I will spare you.
Some day soon I will shut Stewie up in my head and have a manuscript to send out and then maybe, just maybe I will walk into a book store and there it will be, my book.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
So...lets talk
I am not a complicated girl. And when things get complicated I get bitchy.
Knowing that, how do you think my conversation with Comcast went? Bout as well as a rabbit trying to explain vegetarianism to a fox.
My husband and I discussed getting rid of most of our services with Comcast, because they suck, and just sticking with Internet. So I called them several weeks ago to find out when our promotion was ending. The woman on the phone told me April 23. I said great and hung up.
Now I am not a stupid girl either. I have been dealing with Comcast for years.The truth is as elusive to them as the Giant Squid is to biologists. I promptly redialed the number and hit all their stupid buttons and got to another young girl and asked the same question and low and behold she gave me the same answer.
Weird right?
Getting the same answer out of two people! I was floored and gave myself a good old pat on the back for good work. Same answer twice, no need to call back. The stars aligned, the wolves were calling to the moon, time to buy a lottery ticket. So I put it in my phone to call April 22 to cancel the services we would no longer require.
Monday night my husband asks me why Comcast withdrew $210 out of our account. My jaw actually hit the ground. I had no idea. The little bastards lied to me. Both of them.
First thing Tuesday morning I called their customer service "Home of the Customer Service Guarantee." Yeah right, they can kiss my rosy white Irish ass.
The first guy I talked to listened to my story and looked through my account, verified my information asked me a million questions that have nothing to do with the reason why I called then apologized about the mix up but our promotion ended MARCH 23!
I said no, no, no. I told him I called. I told him twice.
He apologized again and said that there was no record of me calling, once or twice and there was no record of me calling for six months.
Well how the hell did that happen? How is it that I called twice and neither of the little jerks accessed my information and BOTH of them giving me the same date?
I demanded as much from the guy and he apologized again (they think that makes it better. It doesn't.) and tells me that he has no idea. Jerk.
I ask him to credit our account since we were told that it was April 23, not the month before. You'll never guess what he did.
He apologized AGAIN! And told me no. I asked for a supervisor. He said sure, I think he wanted to get rid of me.
So I started all over again. I have the new guy my story, then the same million stupid questions that have nothing to do with anything and I a m no better off.
The only thing this guy knew how to do was repeat everything back to me that I already said and finished every sentence with 'there.' I am not kidding. I couldn't concentrate on anything he said. (Not like it mattered he was just saying what I had said.) In the end I stopped listening and started counting how many 'theres' he said. I stopped counting at 35. No joke.
This guy also refused to help me. Probably because it was outside of his vocabulary. He refused to credit my account, he refused to offer any help. But the 'there's kept rolling in. Anyone higher on the food chain was going to call back in a few hours. Already bit that worm once and got dragged out of the river, not going to do that again.
Would I change Internet providers if there was someone, anyone else that provided out where I live? You bet your last dollar and the lint in your pocket I would. But alas we are stuck with them.
Will someone please provide Internet out here so that I can lose Comcast?
I hate calling them. I hate talking to them. I hate getting five different stories every time I call. I work in customer service. I could out customer service them any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
Actually lets make a challenge.
I bet Comcast cant beat me!
Any takers?
Knowing that, how do you think my conversation with Comcast went? Bout as well as a rabbit trying to explain vegetarianism to a fox.
My husband and I discussed getting rid of most of our services with Comcast, because they suck, and just sticking with Internet. So I called them several weeks ago to find out when our promotion was ending. The woman on the phone told me April 23. I said great and hung up.
Now I am not a stupid girl either. I have been dealing with Comcast for years.The truth is as elusive to them as the Giant Squid is to biologists. I promptly redialed the number and hit all their stupid buttons and got to another young girl and asked the same question and low and behold she gave me the same answer.
Weird right?
Getting the same answer out of two people! I was floored and gave myself a good old pat on the back for good work. Same answer twice, no need to call back. The stars aligned, the wolves were calling to the moon, time to buy a lottery ticket. So I put it in my phone to call April 22 to cancel the services we would no longer require.
Monday night my husband asks me why Comcast withdrew $210 out of our account. My jaw actually hit the ground. I had no idea. The little bastards lied to me. Both of them.
First thing Tuesday morning I called their customer service "Home of the Customer Service Guarantee." Yeah right, they can kiss my rosy white Irish ass.
The first guy I talked to listened to my story and looked through my account, verified my information asked me a million questions that have nothing to do with the reason why I called then apologized about the mix up but our promotion ended MARCH 23!
I said no, no, no. I told him I called. I told him twice.
He apologized again and said that there was no record of me calling, once or twice and there was no record of me calling for six months.
Well how the hell did that happen? How is it that I called twice and neither of the little jerks accessed my information and BOTH of them giving me the same date?
I demanded as much from the guy and he apologized again (they think that makes it better. It doesn't.) and tells me that he has no idea. Jerk.
I ask him to credit our account since we were told that it was April 23, not the month before. You'll never guess what he did.
He apologized AGAIN! And told me no. I asked for a supervisor. He said sure, I think he wanted to get rid of me.
So I started all over again. I have the new guy my story, then the same million stupid questions that have nothing to do with anything and I a m no better off.
The only thing this guy knew how to do was repeat everything back to me that I already said and finished every sentence with 'there.' I am not kidding. I couldn't concentrate on anything he said. (Not like it mattered he was just saying what I had said.) In the end I stopped listening and started counting how many 'theres' he said. I stopped counting at 35. No joke.
This guy also refused to help me. Probably because it was outside of his vocabulary. He refused to credit my account, he refused to offer any help. But the 'there's kept rolling in. Anyone higher on the food chain was going to call back in a few hours. Already bit that worm once and got dragged out of the river, not going to do that again.
Would I change Internet providers if there was someone, anyone else that provided out where I live? You bet your last dollar and the lint in your pocket I would. But alas we are stuck with them.
Will someone please provide Internet out here so that I can lose Comcast?
I hate calling them. I hate talking to them. I hate getting five different stories every time I call. I work in customer service. I could out customer service them any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
Actually lets make a challenge.
I bet Comcast cant beat me!
Any takers?
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The trees have bikinis!
So I was mowing my lawn today and I got to thinking. How? You ask. Well I don't have a gas guzzling, air polluting, energy sucking lawn mower. My mower is me powered. I push, blades rotate, grass lies dead at my feet.
Sorry, let me get off my evil soap box.
There. Now since there is no motor it's a quiet affair when I mow my lawn and it affords me the time to let my brain wander. Which is a dangerous thing, who knows what I will come up with.
I started making lists in my head. And then this image popped in my head.
The Starbucks that I frequent to write and take some me time has two trees outside that someone so kindly dress up with bikinis. One is pink and orange and the other is yellow.
How ridiculous is that? But is it? We dress our pets, (well I do) We dress our houses, lawns, lives. A tree wearing bikini isn't so odd.
Believe it or not, that whole conversation led me to this.
Categorizing my writing and taking note of what I have learned about me. Because what I am about to do is both ridiculous and odd.
Problem: I have learned that the two stories I have been working on that are in the first person are way more interesting than my third person. (Two of you out there want to know two? Haven't told ya bout the other one yet...moohoohaaa haaa haaa! okay evil laugh gone.)
Solution: Consider writing my third person in the first person. This thought makes me feel like I am leaning over the edge of the Grand Canyon without a sign to stop me. My third person story is the one that I have been working on the longest, that I have agaonized over and rewritten so many times. Now facing another rewrite is depressing, yet oddly settling.
Problem: I can not write young adult. I cant do it. I cant do it so that it is interesting, funny, emotional or suspenseful, at least not in the way I want.
Solution: I am losing the Young Adult audience and speaking to my me audience. This decision is the most freeing. I can write the way I want to and not feeling like I am been shackled to the floor.
Problem: I suffer from TMI. Not in the way where you find out more about me than you ever wanted to know, but from a readers perspective. I, for some ungodforsaken reason, feel the need to tell my readers everything about every character. How they get places, all the subtle things they do, every single detail.
Solution: You don't need to know. Well okay, some things you do need to know, but the rest if fluff. It's too much it holds the story down, makes it boring. So weed out the TMI.
Problem: Going hand in hand with TMI I have a transition issue. I cant just leave my story in one spot then promptly pick it up at a later time. For example. My character is going to leave, drive home, make a few turns, has a few thoughts then get home go to bed and wake up the next morning.
Solution: 'Waking up the next morning she had a thought.' Look fluff gone. Do that more.
So where does this leave me?
Another rewrite. Sad but true. I recently read an article titled 'A Million Words of Crap' and I feel I am nearing the end of my crap and verging on the real story.
What am I going to do?
Well some of you are just going to wait to find out.
Look at that I was suspenseful!
Sorry, let me get off my evil soap box.
There. Now since there is no motor it's a quiet affair when I mow my lawn and it affords me the time to let my brain wander. Which is a dangerous thing, who knows what I will come up with.
I started making lists in my head. And then this image popped in my head.
The Starbucks that I frequent to write and take some me time has two trees outside that someone so kindly dress up with bikinis. One is pink and orange and the other is yellow.
How ridiculous is that? But is it? We dress our pets, (well I do) We dress our houses, lawns, lives. A tree wearing bikini isn't so odd.
Believe it or not, that whole conversation led me to this.
Categorizing my writing and taking note of what I have learned about me. Because what I am about to do is both ridiculous and odd.
Problem: I have learned that the two stories I have been working on that are in the first person are way more interesting than my third person. (Two of you out there want to know two? Haven't told ya bout the other one yet...moohoohaaa haaa haaa! okay evil laugh gone.)
Solution: Consider writing my third person in the first person. This thought makes me feel like I am leaning over the edge of the Grand Canyon without a sign to stop me. My third person story is the one that I have been working on the longest, that I have agaonized over and rewritten so many times. Now facing another rewrite is depressing, yet oddly settling.
Problem: I can not write young adult. I cant do it. I cant do it so that it is interesting, funny, emotional or suspenseful, at least not in the way I want.
Solution: I am losing the Young Adult audience and speaking to my me audience. This decision is the most freeing. I can write the way I want to and not feeling like I am been shackled to the floor.
Problem: I suffer from TMI. Not in the way where you find out more about me than you ever wanted to know, but from a readers perspective. I, for some ungodforsaken reason, feel the need to tell my readers everything about every character. How they get places, all the subtle things they do, every single detail.
Solution: You don't need to know. Well okay, some things you do need to know, but the rest if fluff. It's too much it holds the story down, makes it boring. So weed out the TMI.
Problem: Going hand in hand with TMI I have a transition issue. I cant just leave my story in one spot then promptly pick it up at a later time. For example. My character is going to leave, drive home, make a few turns, has a few thoughts then get home go to bed and wake up the next morning.
Solution: 'Waking up the next morning she had a thought.' Look fluff gone. Do that more.
So where does this leave me?
Another rewrite. Sad but true. I recently read an article titled 'A Million Words of Crap' and I feel I am nearing the end of my crap and verging on the real story.
What am I going to do?
Well some of you are just going to wait to find out.
Look at that I was suspenseful!
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Review: The Fever Series
Here's my thing about reviews. I hate reviews that tell me what happens in the book. If I want to know what happens, I'll read it. What I want from a review is why the reader liked the book or didn't.
Was the plot good but the writing bad? Or the other way around?
Does the reader fall in love with the characters, or just loves to hate them?
I don't want the plot. I would have enjoyed Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone so much more if no one had told me that Harry becomes a wizard. (Don't get me wrong, I can practically quote the whole book.) But it's the journey the characters go on that make it for me. I love how things happen, not why.
So when I review that's what you'll get. Take or leave it...
I stumbled across this book on Amazon. I wasn't looking for an urban fantasy, actually I wasn't looking for any sort of fantasy. I was, however, looking for a good series. I love reading good series, trilogies, sagas, what have ya. They let the author really get into an entire world and dramatic plot line. Really develop the characters. They let the readers fall in love with the characters, or despise them. Or even better have one of those love hate things.
The entire Fever Series was that for me.
A simple southern girl's life is turned upside down by her sister's murder. Seeking revenge and closure she heads to Dublin to get answers. Mac, our heroin, starts out being innocent, naive and gullible. As the story progresses and the dangers increase she evolves to survive in a world teeming with Fae, both pretty and not so pretty.
I loved the sassy writing, and wordless conversations. I loved how well illustrated the world of Mac is. The journey is filled with twists and turns, no one to trust and no answers that give real truth. Mac has to decide for herself what is best for her survival and ultimately humanities survival.
Some of the characters I adored, some of them I hated (rightly so) and some of them I just wanted to package them up and take them home.
What threw me for a few chapters was when the point of view suddenly changed from Mac to Dani. But after going back and re reading it made sense. Dani continues the story and gives the reader answers without making the Mac do something stupid just so certain information gets passed to the reader.
Now here's my reader beware:
I loved this book. Now if you know me that means I had no problem with the F word being thrown around regularly or the moments of intense sexual situations. (It wasn't roses for Mac, actually it sucked for her.)
But if you don't want to read a story with cussing, compromising positions that even made me blush (and I don't really do that, ask most anyone.) then find something else to read.
If you do love a good journey and a heroin your rooting for through good decisions and bad mistakes then you wont be left disappointed. You will be left wanting more.
Good news, there are five books, and three more in the works, and I am interested to know what the last three will be.
Happy reading! Please pass on books you loved. I am always on the hunt.
Was the plot good but the writing bad? Or the other way around?
Does the reader fall in love with the characters, or just loves to hate them?
I don't want the plot. I would have enjoyed Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone so much more if no one had told me that Harry becomes a wizard. (Don't get me wrong, I can practically quote the whole book.) But it's the journey the characters go on that make it for me. I love how things happen, not why.
So when I review that's what you'll get. Take or leave it...
I stumbled across this book on Amazon. I wasn't looking for an urban fantasy, actually I wasn't looking for any sort of fantasy. I was, however, looking for a good series. I love reading good series, trilogies, sagas, what have ya. They let the author really get into an entire world and dramatic plot line. Really develop the characters. They let the readers fall in love with the characters, or despise them. Or even better have one of those love hate things.
The entire Fever Series was that for me.
A simple southern girl's life is turned upside down by her sister's murder. Seeking revenge and closure she heads to Dublin to get answers. Mac, our heroin, starts out being innocent, naive and gullible. As the story progresses and the dangers increase she evolves to survive in a world teeming with Fae, both pretty and not so pretty.
I loved the sassy writing, and wordless conversations. I loved how well illustrated the world of Mac is. The journey is filled with twists and turns, no one to trust and no answers that give real truth. Mac has to decide for herself what is best for her survival and ultimately humanities survival.
Some of the characters I adored, some of them I hated (rightly so) and some of them I just wanted to package them up and take them home.
What threw me for a few chapters was when the point of view suddenly changed from Mac to Dani. But after going back and re reading it made sense. Dani continues the story and gives the reader answers without making the Mac do something stupid just so certain information gets passed to the reader.
Now here's my reader beware:
I loved this book. Now if you know me that means I had no problem with the F word being thrown around regularly or the moments of intense sexual situations. (It wasn't roses for Mac, actually it sucked for her.)
But if you don't want to read a story with cussing, compromising positions that even made me blush (and I don't really do that, ask most anyone.) then find something else to read.
If you do love a good journey and a heroin your rooting for through good decisions and bad mistakes then you wont be left disappointed. You will be left wanting more.
Good news, there are five books, and three more in the works, and I am interested to know what the last three will be.
Happy reading! Please pass on books you loved. I am always on the hunt.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
In response to Guinevere's Square Table
Since my writing knowledge is minimal at best I make the effort to meet with a friend (**A** author of the blog Guinevere's Square Table ) a couple of times a month. We run ideas past each other and read each others stuff to make sure that we aren't crazy or not crazy enough.
It's funny how similar our processes are. While her ideas explode in her head while she is driving and has no means to write them down, mine come to me while I am in the shower.
Ideas, plot connections, segments of conversations, perfect descriptions all fall together in one place. The shower. Why? I have no idea.
Is it the writing gods mocking me? Giving me wonderful ideas whilst I am in no position to write them.
Hermes is having a great laugh at my expense.
The worst part is the ideas blossom at such a rapid rate that I can rarely keep them all contained. The second I start writing them down the others that I don't get to evaporate, like steam from a hot spring.
Why???? Why cant I hold on to my thoughts and process? Why cant it happen when I have my computer open and ready, or my notebook with my pen poised?
This sucks.
Are there writers out there with better methods? Better coping techniques? Or know a good support group for the writing insane?
Help...
It's funny how similar our processes are. While her ideas explode in her head while she is driving and has no means to write them down, mine come to me while I am in the shower.
Ideas, plot connections, segments of conversations, perfect descriptions all fall together in one place. The shower. Why? I have no idea.
Is it the writing gods mocking me? Giving me wonderful ideas whilst I am in no position to write them.
Hermes is having a great laugh at my expense.
The worst part is the ideas blossom at such a rapid rate that I can rarely keep them all contained. The second I start writing them down the others that I don't get to evaporate, like steam from a hot spring.
Why???? Why cant I hold on to my thoughts and process? Why cant it happen when I have my computer open and ready, or my notebook with my pen poised?
This sucks.
Are there writers out there with better methods? Better coping techniques? Or know a good support group for the writing insane?
Help...
Monday, April 4, 2011
A trip to the book store...
So I am not above discussing personal embarrassments, especially when it is funny.
I am currently in the middle of the Fever series by Karen Marie Moning. (This should have been my first clue. The authors name.) I was almost done with the third book and I was pretty much freaking out!
The writing is wonderful, the story is well thought out, creative and captivating. It is most defiantly an adult book. How adult, I did not know.
I had to go on line while reading the climax of my book and find out if my favorite characters live.
Yes I am one of those people. I have to know or I wont finish. If want a good cry, I'll read the news.
One of the reviewers said if I have to know, just read the last page of the last book.
And that was exactly what I was gong to do.
My husband and I dropped baby off at my in laws to go out for a much needed dinner for two. During the meal my husband suggests that since we will have some time why don't we go to Barns and Noble.
And I am like Totally! ( Yeah, now you know how old I am.)
So we went.
First I went to the Fantasy section. The basis of the story is a girl's sister is murdered in Dublin and she sets off to seek revenge, only to find out that Dublin had been invaded by Fae or Fairies, that aren't the cute and cuddly kind. They are evil and ugly. (I am telling you now, it's a great series.)
I looked and I looked and yet there was no Fever series in Fantasy. So I went to fiction, and nothing. Now I knew that it wouldn't be in young adult. So I went to the guy. ( You know the guy that waits in the middle of the store for the lost souls wanting to find the right book, that guy.)
He looks it up and says, very discreetly I might add. "Oh, right over here."
At this point I was surprised because I was convinced that they didn't carry my new favorite book.
Don't worry they do.
Imagine my mortification when the guy took me to ROMANCE!!!
Blushing a little I said thank you, and he was gone. Quickly. But me being me. I picked up the last book and read the last two pages right there in the romance section.
Here's why I am surprised. In the first two books and most of the third there were some explicit scenes but they were nothing romantic. Even when I finished the third book. (The last two pages satisfied me and I will be reading the last two. I totally cant wait.) When the third one ended and there was sex there was nothing sexy about it. If you read it you'll see why.
None the less. I stood in the romance section for about five minutes thumbing through the last two books.
Yup, that's me weird girl in the romance section. Oh by the way I was wearing my four and a half inch heals while I was reading...
I am currently in the middle of the Fever series by Karen Marie Moning. (This should have been my first clue. The authors name.) I was almost done with the third book and I was pretty much freaking out!
The writing is wonderful, the story is well thought out, creative and captivating. It is most defiantly an adult book. How adult, I did not know.
I had to go on line while reading the climax of my book and find out if my favorite characters live.
Yes I am one of those people. I have to know or I wont finish. If want a good cry, I'll read the news.
One of the reviewers said if I have to know, just read the last page of the last book.
And that was exactly what I was gong to do.
My husband and I dropped baby off at my in laws to go out for a much needed dinner for two. During the meal my husband suggests that since we will have some time why don't we go to Barns and Noble.
And I am like Totally! ( Yeah, now you know how old I am.)
So we went.
First I went to the Fantasy section. The basis of the story is a girl's sister is murdered in Dublin and she sets off to seek revenge, only to find out that Dublin had been invaded by Fae or Fairies, that aren't the cute and cuddly kind. They are evil and ugly. (I am telling you now, it's a great series.)
I looked and I looked and yet there was no Fever series in Fantasy. So I went to fiction, and nothing. Now I knew that it wouldn't be in young adult. So I went to the guy. ( You know the guy that waits in the middle of the store for the lost souls wanting to find the right book, that guy.)
He looks it up and says, very discreetly I might add. "Oh, right over here."
At this point I was surprised because I was convinced that they didn't carry my new favorite book.
Don't worry they do.
Imagine my mortification when the guy took me to ROMANCE!!!
Blushing a little I said thank you, and he was gone. Quickly. But me being me. I picked up the last book and read the last two pages right there in the romance section.
Here's why I am surprised. In the first two books and most of the third there were some explicit scenes but they were nothing romantic. Even when I finished the third book. (The last two pages satisfied me and I will be reading the last two. I totally cant wait.) When the third one ended and there was sex there was nothing sexy about it. If you read it you'll see why.
None the less. I stood in the romance section for about five minutes thumbing through the last two books.
Yup, that's me weird girl in the romance section. Oh by the way I was wearing my four and a half inch heals while I was reading...
Friday, April 1, 2011
Writing Fearlessly
I have a problem. I cant do it. I know what I want to say, I can see the sentence formed clearly in my mind. The emotion of my characters, the pain that needs to be portrayed.
It's a pivotal moment. The moment when the characters reach a new level of understanding, their relationship progresses. It's terrifying and painful.
And yet here I am. My fingers gently tapping the keys feeling them, but nothing is being written. No letters string together to form words.
The scene plays in my head over and over and the fingers refuse to obey and write.
This is the part where I growl at my computer. It's my computers fault. It wont listen to me. Bastard.
But the bastard is really me. I am stopping the words from being written.
Why is it in my day to day life I open my mouth and the truth comes out fearlessly. I sit down to write and my fingers freeze.
Am I thinking about my audience too much? The thought of them is poised in the back of my head and when I get down to the grit and grime of my story the evil audience rears it's ugly head.
Am I afraid of what the people I know will think of me when they read what I have written? Yes. That was easy.
Now here's the funny part. The zombie comedy that I am writing as an outlet for the one that is yet to be titled, I have no problem sharing. It's crude, and perverse. It's blunt and rubs certain issues in people faces. I have no qualms about sharing that one.
In fact I tell people I cant wait for them to read it and have sent pieces to friends.
But untitled? Nope. Only two people know the story. Two that I trust. I have giving my husband an over view, but its not really his thing and I wasn't expecting much when I told him. He's supportive, but he's about as interested in a love story as I am.
How do I unblock myself? How do I write what I want? Why is it I cant do it?
How do I write fearlessly?
It's a pivotal moment. The moment when the characters reach a new level of understanding, their relationship progresses. It's terrifying and painful.
And yet here I am. My fingers gently tapping the keys feeling them, but nothing is being written. No letters string together to form words.
The scene plays in my head over and over and the fingers refuse to obey and write.
This is the part where I growl at my computer. It's my computers fault. It wont listen to me. Bastard.
But the bastard is really me. I am stopping the words from being written.
Why is it in my day to day life I open my mouth and the truth comes out fearlessly. I sit down to write and my fingers freeze.
Am I thinking about my audience too much? The thought of them is poised in the back of my head and when I get down to the grit and grime of my story the evil audience rears it's ugly head.
Am I afraid of what the people I know will think of me when they read what I have written? Yes. That was easy.
Now here's the funny part. The zombie comedy that I am writing as an outlet for the one that is yet to be titled, I have no problem sharing. It's crude, and perverse. It's blunt and rubs certain issues in people faces. I have no qualms about sharing that one.
In fact I tell people I cant wait for them to read it and have sent pieces to friends.
But untitled? Nope. Only two people know the story. Two that I trust. I have giving my husband an over view, but its not really his thing and I wasn't expecting much when I told him. He's supportive, but he's about as interested in a love story as I am.
How do I unblock myself? How do I write what I want? Why is it I cant do it?
How do I write fearlessly?
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