NaNoWriMo is 6 weeks away!

First, a BIG thanks for all the positive feedback on my little short from last week. I am so thrilled that you all liked it so much! No, I'm not telling who is in the casket... that's a story that will have to wait for another time... like... after NaNoWriMo...

Eek! I only have 6 weeks to get my act together on my new WIP for National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). I have a lot going on before then.

I need to get an outline together this time. I want to KNOW where this story is going... at least hypothetically at first... so that I can make an effort to get there. It's a good idea, it just needs some *Ooomph*.

And I'm going to Yellowstone this week! I'm so excited! I've never been to Yellowstone... and since Lori is working there until the end of the month, I thought I'd take the opportunity to see one of the nation's most amazing parks. Oh man. Here we go! There will be tons of pictures that come out of that venture, I hope.

Speaking of this week... On Wednesday (the day I leave for Yellowstone) Emily Suess will announce who the top 10 finalists are for her writing contest from Writers' Week last week. We are all waiting with bated breath... well, at least all of us who entered are. The rest of you could probably care less. But! You should care! There will be on-line voting to determine the winners starting on September 26th. YOU can help decide which entry gets the grand prize.

Dad and Mary in Brooklyn with us for a morning.

I'm not even saying you should vote for me. How could I? We don't even know who the finalists are. But there is some great talent out there, and it deserves your attention. So take some time... visit the writing contest page and check out these entries. Then, if you have time, on September 26th vote for your favorite piece to win.

Ahhh... I'm off now to work on a couple things I need to get done before I leave on Wednesday morning... but first to take the pup for a hike.

Writers' week writing contest entry!

This is my entry for the Writers' Week writing contest:

Just Breathe

"You'd be much more attractive if you'd smile more," my mother nagged, stopping in front of me to straighten my collar and brush a molecule of dust from my skirt, which was far too wrinkly to give away any dust or lint. I sucked in a sharp breath of frustration, held it, and counted to three.

"It's a funeral, ma," I said, rolling my eyes. "We're not supposed to smile." I was sweating profusely, even in the sleeveless black dress I had borrowed from Abby. The mid-summer heat was oppressive.

Mother pursed her lips irritably and pretended she hadn't heard me. "You know, the Jergins's youngest, Bobby, just got back from a tour of duty in Iraq. He'll probably be here today."

"Ma," I pulled my head away from her hand as she reached out to brush my hair out of my eyes. "I used to babysit Bobby. Also, he might not be so keen on me once he hears my political views, or sees my tattoo." I headed up the walk to the funeral home again. Mother followed briskly.

"I've already explained to the Jerginses that you had no idea what that horrible man was tattooing on your body and that you're having it removed as soon as possible."

I stopped abruptly, eyes wide. "What?"

"Well, how do you expect to find a decent husband anywhere with THAT tattooed across your body?" Mother turned away from me and waved at another couple approaching the funeral home.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked away again. Almost there. Ten more steps to hell, but at least I wouldn't have to listen to her carry on anymore.

"Welcome, welcome. Thank you for coming," said the ancient doorman. "The Stevenson/Everrett memorial is just down this way. May I take your coat?"

I blinked at the wizened old man curiously. "It's a hundred degrees out."

"Very well. Very well. Right this way, please." He tottered off down the hall. The door closed with a loud WHUMP behind me, causing a giant cloud of dust to rise out of the decades old carpet. I followed him along the dimly lit corridor, painfully self-conscious of my body in a dress, made all the more awkward by the two sizes too big combat boots I insisted on wearing as part of my funeral garb, just to give my mother heart palpitations. Whatever.

I held my breath as I entered the room the doorman showed me to, partly out of anticipation of the waiting crowd of people, and partly to hold off the "old person smell" that I knew would accost me the moment I faced them. With a rustle of whispered sound, I watched as people milled around the rows of seats, giving sympathetic nods to one another, compassionately gripping each others' shoulders or hands.

I stood there in the doorway somewhat reluctantly, the aged doorman swaying beside me like an autumn leaf. "Uh, thanks," I said, nodding at him and clearing my throat. He inclined his head toward me reverently, but didn't leave. I could hear his rattled breathing. I would have stayed right there for hours, if it weren't for the arrival of my mother and the couple from outside. I was swept neatly into the room.

Groping hands reached in from every side to pat my shoulder or my cheek. I sidestepped as many hugs as I could, but I couldn't avoid their eyes. Equal parts pity and judgment. Fuck them, I thought, chewing on my lip-ring, and trying to resist the urge to brush the hair out of my eyes. I didn't need their pity or their judgment. I was just fine.

The faces began to blur together. It seemed like time would just stand still. And then I saw my mother gliding toward me with Bobby Jergins in tow. I needed to escape. I ducked my head down and slipped to the front of the room, but it was a close shave.

"Olivia?" I heard my mother calling.

"Not now, Jean-Louise," a sharp, metallic voice responded. "Give the girl some space." Great Aunt Hester to the rescue. The woman was tiny, but she was fierce. "Go ahead, Livvy. Go on." She patted my elbow, since that was as high as she could reach.

I held my breath again as I approached the casket. This was it. No going back. Once I looked at him, it would be real. Was I ready for that? Each step forward was shorter than the one before. I didn't think I was ready. But it was this or face my mother and her latest "match." I'd rather die, I thought, casting an envious glance at the casket again.

I didn't belong in that straight-edged town anyhow. If I could just look, just let him be dead... I could let go. I could move on.

I leaned forward to look inside the casket... and breathed out.

It's "Writers' Week"

It's Writers' Week over on Suess's Pieces! You should check it out. She's got lots of tips and tricks for writers from other writers! It's going to be an inspirational and informational fun-filled time :) Also, there's a writing contest. Eep! I may actually complete a piece just to be involved. Join me and Emily Suess and stretch your brain a little this week.

In other news, I got pretty much no writing at all done last week. I did have some good learning time during yoga, but no forward movement on the word count. I need to wrap this thing up pretty quickly now! September is flying by, and I want to be ready to work on my Other WIP for NaNoWriMo in November. Gasp!

Goals for this week:
1. Finish knitting wrist warmers to take to Lori next week in Yellowstone
2. Write end sequence for WIP #1
3. Check out books on Kauai from the library (we're going next month! yay!)
4. Write entry for Writers' Week contest
5. Bake something with apples in refrigerator...
6. A new sketch (would be nice)

What are your goals this week?

Yoga = revelations of a heroine

Don't ya just love it when you can clear your mind enough to actually hear your thoughts? It's been FOREVER since I attended a yoga class... like, try before Thanksgiving last year...

Photo credit: Lori Marois

and I've been a little under the weather, recently... and more sedentary than usual... I have been feeling the need for a good stretch. So I mustered my motivation and made myself go to the beginner yoga class at the studio down the street from me.

Oh the stretch. I ached for days after. But it was good aching... and I'll be going again tomorrow.

It's good for me to stretch my body and my mind. While I am doing yoga I try to focus on a couple of goals mentally (the poses and the teacher usually do enough for my physical stretching). First, I try to remember to breathe. That's hard for me! I get so tensed up, stressed about doing the pose correctly or about the creaking strain from my muscles uncurling... that I forget the basic concept of breathing... and the thing is that, if I can't remember to breathe, I surely can't quiet my mind...

Which is the second goal I focus on... a quiet mind... that can hear things that I need to hear instead of all the chatterings of anxiety and stress and "shoulds" that crowd in and cause me to forget to breathe :) (It's a vicious cycle, isn't it?). I don't think I usually accomplish either goal satisfactorily. Or at least I haven't yet... but if I don't go to yoga I don't make any progress at all... so going is good... and breathing is good... and then, during the shavasana (my favorite part, at the end) a thought popped into my head about my protagonist, my heroine... the thought that connected her to me in a way I had not considered before... I realized that I want to wake up and discover that I am a warrior, just as she does...

and now I'm ready to begin the first of many re-writes... I have a better understanding of what she needs to become who I want her to be.

Waiting for a hurricane is kind of dull UPDATED!

Well, I'm not waiting for it anymore... Irene blew through here on Saturday night through Sunday afternoon... and it's Wednesday now... I think...

But Saturday morning/afternoon/evening were a snoozefest! Places were already boarding up and sending people home, so there wasn't much to do. It was dark and threatening rain all day, so we avoided most outdoor activities... We did manage to squeak into the cupcake shop in Bethel to get a few yummies... but they're gone now... I haven't checked to see if they have power again yet.

Speaking of power, we don't have it. Mostly, it's no big deal. During the day we barely run any electric items/appliances anyhow, and leave the lights off in general. And at night we use candles to see... and the stove top is gas... and we have a generator to keep the fridge cool. I even don't mind not being "wired in" mostly (although it makes it kinda hard to let your family know you haven't died in the natural disaster. We haven't). I have been doing a LOT of reading... 800 pages to finish a 1000 page book... second in a series of 5... it's not like I don't have something to keep me busy :)

But the power is a pain for us for one MAJOR reason... the well. Our well pump is electric... and it's non-functional at present. We have been ordering in our drinking water for some time, so that's not too bad to deal with, but... it's exceedingly harder to wash dishes... and impossible to shower... and we're now using water we could be drinking to flush the toilet. I know all that water makes it there eventually... but it sort of burns to bypass the drinking part and just pour it down there...

With the two trees that took down the power lines on our street still sitting in the middle of the road and caution tape, I'm guessing it's going to be a few more days before we get that water pump back up and running. Ugh.

In the meantime... I'll be doing a lot more reading!

UPDATE!!! We got our power back last night! I've never been so happy to be able to flush a toilet in my life :)

Sparks Future: Afghanistan has loquats!

Is there a book or author that changed your world view?

So, I have grown up in a mostly post-Cold War era... I mean, the Cold War was still going on when I was in school, but Gorbachev had already come to power by the time I was in the 5th grade and politically things were moving towards a better peace between the US and the USSR.

By the time I was in the 7th grade, Hussein had invaded Kuwait and we had a new enemy... the Middle East. Not just Hussein, the crazed dictator... the entire Middle East and all of its desert dwelling Muslims. Yep... that's the culture of fear I grew up under.

Whenever I thought of the Middle East (and Afghanistan and Pakistan which are, technically, part of Asia)... I thought of people in turbans with machine guns living in nomadic dwellings in a desert wasteland that was covered with sand and dust and rocks... and nothing else... I'm ashamed to admit that this impression of that "other" part of the world lasted all the way through college!!!

It wasn't like I had never been to the Middle East. I visited Israel with my parents when I was in high school (and again later, after the world view change, thankfully). I ate the fruit and looked at the archaeological sites. And somehow my brain always reset to deserts and machine guns and turbans (there were quite a few machine guns present wherever I happened to look in Israel, granted...).

After college, I moved to LA from my little hometown in Georgia. That move in and of itself began to change my world view. So many cultures directly impacting each other! LA is a place like no other for learning about and experiencing the World right in your own back yard. I miss it...

One friend that I made while I was in LA shared my love of reading, and would exchange books with me frequently. She pulled me out of my world of Arthur and the classics and into the world of best sellers. I can't say I was entirely happy about this, but I was willing to give the books she recommended a try.

One of those books was "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hosseini. An amazing story of the friendship of two boys... so poignant and moving and... hold on... Afghanistan has loquat trees???

That book opened my eyes to the beauty and vibrancy of a region that it had never occurred to me to think of as beautiful or vibrant... and it opened my eyes to the horror that war can wreak on a landscape or a culture... and it reminded me that this world is bigger than my perception of it... I can only hope that those ideas are reflected in the way I interact with the world now and in the future.

Sparks Present: Merlin and Arthurian Legend

What author set off that spark of inspiration for your current Work in Progress?

Strap in, 'cause this story meanders a LOT before I get to the point :)

I think one of the things I like about C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein is their capacity for embracing myth and legend and through that creating something new. As a young reader, I was not exposed to Arthurian legend, although my father was reading Mary Stewart's Merlin Trilogy around that time.

No, my first exposure to Arthur and Merlin came through the lens of fairytale despot of the day... Walt Disney; more specifically, through "The Sword in the Stone". I enjoyed the whimsical plot and characters in my youth, and it must have stuck with me, because in college I began reading Mary Stewart as well... too intrigued, I suppose... I conveniently "borrowed" the book from my Dad... I gave it back eventually!!

I loved Stewart's rendition of the legend of Merlin and Arthur. She made use of a lot of history and grounded that legend so firmly in the past that, to me, it seemed like it could exist! And Merlin fascinated me... the idea that he was a man, not just a cartoon, sort of swept me away.

When I had the chance, I picked up "The Wicked Day"... a follow up to the Merlin Trilogy, chronicling the life of Mordred, Arthur's bastard son by his half sister... and again, Stewart astounded me. Mordred, the villain son who is responsible for his own father's death, became so real in his flawed humanity that I cried for him!

The characters Stewart represented for me sparked a curiosity in me for the legend of Arthur... and so I read "The Once and Future King" by T.H. White and was shocked to find Disney's inspiration for "The Sword in the Stone" in the first part of that 3 part epic volume. It was not quite so cutesy and clean as Disney had made it, but the echo of the story was there, resonating out of my childhood and into the now.

In the second (and decidedly more dark) part of "The Once and Future King", White takes the reader to the Orkney Islands of northern Scotland... where Stewart had taken us to hear about Mordred growing up... I wanted to know more about this haunting, harsh landscape... and so, through the magic of Google, I began researching the Orkneys.

I eventually went there, even!

Yep, this photo is by me :)

I found a land rich with its own folklore and mythology there and an idea that had been swirling around in my brain struck a chord in the landscape and folklore... and sparked a NEW idea... one that I'll hopefully bring to life in full in November, since I've decided that will be my focus for NaNoWriMo.

So there you have it. I must say that's quite a ramble! And it took a few different authors and an entire landscape to get me there, but... sometimes that's what it takes!