Cross-country: Reblogged (Reno to Salt Lake)

We're moving back to CA in 2(ish) weeks. Yay!!! So in preparation for that event, I'm reposting the journey from CA to CT that took place 3+ years ago. Here's hoping that this trip goes a little more smoothly. We certainly learned a few tricks in the process!

May 27, 2010:

Everything started out well today. I woke up just before the alarm went off and got up to begin preparing to depart for Salt Lake City.

I fed everyone and took Tag for a walk... then Noah and I had breakfast. La Quinta is awesome by the way. SO pet friendly and free continental breakfast all for less than $100 a night!

When packing up the cats, Bangs was more grouchy than he has been the past couple days. He growled at NNK a lot and was pulling on the crate door trying to get out. I was hoping that wouldn't be a sign of things to come.

We got on the road a little past 7. Today we drove around 8 and a half hours to get from Reno to Salt Lake. Until further notice, our in-drive entertainment will be "The Silmarillion" complete and unabridged, written by J.R.R. Tolkein and read by Martin Shaw. Tag chose to sleep through it all.



Bangs and NNK received their tranquilizers as planned. I don't think the 1/4 tab has any effect on NNK, by the way... so we may not use it at all tomorrow and see how that goes... although we may use it anyhow.

About 2 hours into the trip, we were coming along a broad valley in Nevada. It was rainy off and on all morning. We could see a storm coming up a few miles away. Noah saw lightning a couple times. I was looking back at animals in the car both times and missed it. Oh well.

A few minutes passed and it started raining VERY hard. Noah turned on the wipers and we continued on. Just as we were passing a big rig cab that was hauling 3 other big rig cabs, things took a turn for the worse. The rain became hail that was piling up like snow on the road and we began to hydroplane. My life flashed before my eyes. The cats lives flashed before my eyes... Noah handled the whole thing very expertly and thank god we didn't slide off the road or careen into the big rig cab driving next to us. A minute after we regained control we drove out of the weather and the roads cleared up. Needless to say, we were a little shaken up by the whole event.

Around 4 hours I took over driving and Noah took some pictures.







I'd been driving about an hour when Bangs started rattling his cage and getting testy. We pulled over and I re-administered tranquilizers. Before we reached the next exit, Bangs had pooed all over himself and NNK. She did NOT appreciate this.

(side note: last time we moved across country we had the exact same issue with Bangs on the first day of driving)

We pulled off at the next exit and cleaned up on the side of the road.

Finally we were back in business. Bangs's tranquilizer kicked in and he slept the rest of the way there. And there was hardly a peep from NNK, who was not too keen on getting shoved back into the crate with Mr. Poopy.

The Great Salt Lake Desert is pretty interesting. It was pretty intensely dusty and my allergies kicked in even with medicine!







It's hot here in Salt Lake. And hazy. And dry. I don't really like it. But we're getting the hotel living routine down now... and we found a park to take Tag out to run around in.

We had greek food for dinner. And we're all relaxing.









It's another long day tomorrow... hopefully we're done with drama for this trip!

Cross-country: Reblogged (Davis to Reno)

We're moving back to CA in 2 1/2 weeks. Yay!!! So in preparation for that event, I'm reposting the journey from CA to CT that took place 3+ years ago. Here's hoping that this trip goes a little more smoothly. We certainly learned a few tricks in the process!

May 26, 2010:



Today did not entirely go as planned... but we made it to Reno!

The majority of our plans played out perfectly. The movers arrived early and loaded quickly... Noah swept out the house and played with the dog while I slipped drugs to the cats for our first day of driving.

While waiting for the tranquilizers to take effect, I noticed a traffic alert for the eastbound 80 (which we're taking pretty much the entire way across the country). It was closed before Truckee... a diesel truck turned over and was leaking all over the freeway. Bummer... Plus, it was snowing!!

We loaded up the car and headed out,





deciding to go across on 50 to Lake Tahoe and then cut up to Truckee and over to Reno...









Bangs took his tranquilizers quietly and slept most of the 4 hours it took us to get to Reno (we had some construction traffic, too). NNK (no name kitty) protested loudly every 20 minutes or so... but I think she was better for the tranquilizers than she was without. No one threw up on anyone. Jack and Gill quietly waited for us to let them out again and Tag... well Tag is the best ever.



The room here in Reno is gigantic and we love it.... We got in around 4:30 and room service just got here, so I'm going to go eat now :)

I'm tranquilizing the cats again tomorrow. I'm hopeful that it will make the traveling easier... our longest day of driving yet!

Hopefully pictures tomorrow, too!

IWSG: Taking the leap

Hey!!! It's the first Wednesday of the month and I'm actually prepared enough to offer up my piece of the Insecure Writer's Support Group today. Woohoo! Thanks to the amazing Alex Cavanaugh for launching this group that has been such a great... well... support to writers like me who need to be able to talk about our fears and know that someone out there hears us and that maybe they know what we're going through, too. You should really join us. You'll never regret it.

What I want to talk about today isn't necessarily something that's strictly related to writing... but it's something that I'm going through right now and I needed to share.

If you didn't know yet, my husband's job is being outsourced at the end of this month. That's a good thing, believe it or not. N has been struggling with stress and frustration over his career for years now, and most acutely in the past three years. It's time for a change, time for us both to leap out into the great unknown and let our dreams of what we've always wanted to do take flight.

We've known this change was coming for months now, so we've had time to strategize and prepare. That doesn't mean we're ready, though. As the moment of truth draws nearer, we lean forward and look over the edge of the Cliff of Doing What You Dream. That's a pretty steep drop! Our hearts flutter a little more anxiously with each passing day. Soon, we're going to be faced with the decision. Do we really jump and risk the possibility of failure (or wild success)? Or do we do the safe thing and go back to occupations that we hate, but that we know will meet our budget each month?

The best thing, and an important piece for those who wish to experiment with flying, is that we are moving back to California, to a place where we have a support network, people to encourage us along the way. Talking through your fears and frustrations makes them easier to overcome. It's one of the reasons I love the IWSG. Supporters help lessen the impact when you fail... and give you the courage you need to try again. Thanks!

I hope that we'll at least push ourselves over the edge and see what we're capable of. We have a safety net, if we need it... but we'll never know if we can fly if we don't take the leap.

A to Z Challenge: L is for Language

(I totally fell to pieces during April's A to Z Challenge... but I promised to follow through no matter how long it took to get to the end. So here's an installment, for your reading pleasure. Thanks for sticking with me!)

When drafting your piece, be it short fiction or long, it's important to remember that the words you choose carry weight and that consistency of voice will add depth to your characters just as much as the actions and thoughts and feelings that those words convey.

When I'm writing a first draft, basically I'm grabbing at whatever words will do to get my point across. They're like place holders. The first draft is a marathon and LANGUAGE doesn't matter as much as getting the ideas down on paper.

When I'm editing, word choice becomes much more significant. The language I choose to describe a scene will greatly enhance the experience of the reader. Words hold powerful influence over how we perceive a character or setting.

Consider the following three examples taken from the first pages of three incredible books. (By the by, I'm moving in a few weeks, so all my Harry Potter books are already packed. These three books were chosen from what has not been packed yet.)

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The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins
When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.

I prop myself up on one elbow. There's enough light in the bedroom to see them. My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother's body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Prim's face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.

Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
The family of Dashwood had been long settled in Sussex. Their estate was large and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner, as to engage the general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance. The late owner of this estate was a single man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for many years of his life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister. But her death, which happened ten years before his own, produced a great alteration in his hoe; for to supply her loss, he invited and received into his house the family of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, the legal inheritor of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he intended to bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, and their children, the old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent. His attachment to them all increased. The constant attention of r. and Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from interest, but from goodness of hear, gave him every degree of solid comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the children added a relish to his existence.

The Book of Flying - Keith Miller
I am dreaming. I'm dreaming of a city, a white city in the sun by the sea, a city of bells and birdcages, boatswains and ballyhoo, where heart-faced wenches lean bare-breasted from balconies to dry their hair among geraniums and the air is salt and soft and in the harbor sailors swagger from ships that bear cargos of spices. In this city a thousand doves live in the hundred towers of a hundred bells and in the mornings when the bell ringers toll a summons to the sun the doves scatter like blown ash across the tile roofs and light under eaves whispering lulling words to sleepers, bidding them stay in bed a little longer. And on the silver sky other wings rise.
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In each case above, the language employed by the author paints a distinct picture. The narrative voice and the setting are solidified through the words chosen to describe the action. Imagine the picture you would get if the opening passage of the Hunger Games was written in the style that Keith Miller uses for the Book of Flying. You might not feel Katniss's discontent or sense of urgency at all. Miller is painting us a picture of a beautiful land of enchantment. We couldn't imagine otherwise after reading those opening words.

Jane Austen's prose, far from being just a portrait of the times in which she lived, is calculated to give you an idyllic impression of the situation of the social class she is writing about, just before she smashes it all to pieces (ever so subtly and wittily, of course).

When they say a picture paints a thousand words... remember that a word, that LANGUAGE paints pictures as well. Choose your images with care.

Conquering intimidation

Confession: "Ulysses" (James Joyce) intimidates me. I've started it I don't know how many times.

So I decided to read 3 pages a day. Conquer a little bit at a time, you know?

I just made it to page 12, which is further than I've ever gotten before. I'll keep you posted on my progress. Thus far I'm utterly bewildered.

Image from Wikibooks Annotations to James Joyce

Insecure Writer's Support Group: Stage fright, anyone?

Thanks to the ninja awesomeness of
Alex J. Cavanaugh for hosting this group for people like me.

Hey! I haven't done this in a while... it's not that I haven't had insecurities, it's just that... blogging took on a different shape and color for me for a while. And I think it still has that new shape and color, but I have something to share today and it's the right day for IWSG, so I'm going to take advantage of the alignment!

I wrote a short story. It was part of the www.7daystory.com challenge. You write a story in 7 days, going through all the revision stages, until on day 7 you release it, submit it to appropriate places for possible publication.

It's just a cheesy little story though... at least that's what I keep saying to myself. Who would ever want to publish this cheesy little thing? I should just file it away and never show it to anyone besides my husband and Lori, both who thought it was sweet.

So that's my insecurity. I have this paralyzing inability to face "judgement" (I guess in the writing world we call it criticism). I'm afraid of rejection, of the possibility of failure... so much so that I just haven't even bothered to look for places that I might be able to submit a little story like mine. I'm not even looking for actual feedback from people who might be able to help me make my story's ending pop a little more (which is what I think the main problem with it is at present). Nope, instead I'm freezing up and filing it away and doing nothing.

Sigh.

You can sign up for Insecure Writer's Support Group and take advantage of the awesome support in this writerly/bloggerly community, too. Do it! You'll never regret it! And thanks in advance for the support!

A to Z Challenge: K is for Kinesics

(I totally fell to pieces during April's A to Z Challenge... but I promised to follow through no matter how long it took to get to the end. So here's an installment, for your reading pleasure. Thanks for sticking with me!)

When you're writing, every pen stroke/keystroke/pencil scribble should exist to support the characters and/or the plot. Every stroke has meaning, down to the painstakingly selected word so imbued with context and flavor that you could not possibly avoid using it to describe your MC's eye color.

Which is why you really have to be a student of kinesics for your active prose to come alive.

Oxforddictionaries.com defines kenesics as:

• "the study of the way in which certain body movements and gestures serve as a form of nonverbal communication."

As with any and all literary concepts, the key here is balance. The art of kenesics is to find a way to convey meaning with a movement. But you can't just show us your characters' movements. You also have to give us meaningful context for the movements. Here's an example from (who else?) J.K. Rowling in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:

   "I'm going to wash," Harry told Bill, looking down at his hands still covered in mud and Dobby's blood. "Then I'll need to see them, straightaway."
   He walked into the little kitchen, to the basin beneath a window overlooking the sea. Dawn was breaking over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as he washed, again following the train of thought that had come to him in the dark garden...
   Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.
   Harry dried his hands, impervious to the beauty of the scene outside the window and the murmuring of the others in the sitting room. He looked out over the ocean and felt closer, this dawn, than ever before, closer to the heart of it all.
   And still his scar prickled and he knew that Voldemort was getting there too. Harry understood and yet did not understand. His instinct was telling him one thing, his brain quite another. The Dumbledore in Harry's head smiled, surveying Harry over the tips of his fingers, pressed together as if in prayer.

The actions in this scene are relatively few, but they are powerful in their simplicity. Harry washing his hands after just burying his loyal friend... this is a symbolic act of sorrow as well as resolve. By the time Harry clears the dirt away he has a better picture of what he needs to do next in his quest to defeat Voldemort. There is no need for excess here... no mention of turning on or turning off the faucet, or rubbing his hands together, or wiping his face. Those actions would convey a different emotion than Rowling wants for Harry here. The quiet, contemplative act leaves you with a sense of Harry's resolve.

Here's another moment from earlier in the book, between Ron and Harry:

   The sword clanged as Ron dropped it. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. He was shaking, but not, Harry realized, from the cold. Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Ron did not throw it off.
   "After you left," he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron's face was hidden, "she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone..."
   He could not finish; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absence had cost them.
   "She's like my sister," he went on. "I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew."
   Ron did not respond, but turned his face away from Harry and wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve. Harry got to his feet again and walked to where Ron's enormous rucksack lay yards away, discarded as Ron had run toward the pool to save Harry from drowning. He hoisted it onto his own back and walked back to Ron, who clambered to his feet as Harry approached, eyes bloodshot but otherwise composed.

Kinesics is a practice closely related to beats in dialogue, in that they both contain character action. The point is to understand which actions will be the most effective in gathering up the emotional context of the scene and delivering it to your readers.