So, I did it! I wrapped up the draft of Ellie’s Elephants and sent it to Amazon’s Contest. I also sent it to the fabulous people in my life who are my ‘first’ readers, though I try not to send first drafts to anyone.

Now I think about tinkering with it more. I think there may need to be a non-confrontation/confrontation scene when Selin and Eleanor agree to ‘maybe’ have a drink after the show and then Kyle shows up with a bouquet. Maybe it’s enough–before and after for that gap to be filled in by the reader. I don’t know. I’m going to try to wait, to work on other things.

But what? I’m trying to take this day ‘off’ from writing as much as I can. That revision was tough!

And so much was put off while I revised. It’s not a hopeless situation, but I need to gather up tax papers and make that appointment. I expect seed catalogues soon. How I love to consider the garden when all I can see out the window is snow.

The letters I started and misplaced resurfaced briefly. I again can’t find them and fear they are in a pile–not as large and unruly as the pile on the table had become, but a pile somewhere…

Pile fluctuation is bizarre around me. I have no problem filing things properly, but I keep coming back to this observation. It seems the very second I get everything put away, some project strikes me and the piles start again, unnoticed until I can’t ignore them anymore because they will fall if I do. This time it worked out that I finished the draft before I had to address the pile.

And so, off to post this and gather receipts. Fun times ahead! Have a great two weeks and thanks for checking in!

This cold is most unwelcome. I should have known something like this would happen. Still, it isn’t as if I would have changed anything–and I had ample opportunity to do so.

Sigh…

Apparently, I am again learning that I have to be pushed right up tight to a deadline to get anything done. I’m working on a rewrite of the 50,000 words I put in during November. It is not a bad piece of writing. Discovering the correct way the bits are exposed is turning out to be a challenge though.

I suppose I could be slaving away, revising ‘Borders’ or ‘Campus Crimes’ or even one of the three ‘Dandelion’ novels I have in the queue, but with the pattern I’ve seen, it is my latest writing that has the most potential to being picked up for publication and I think it would be grand if I placed somewhere in the top 10,000 in the Amazon Breakout Novel Contest.

Sigh…

The temperatures have been so low lately yet the lake hasn’t frozen yet. The bitterness has bitten my cheeks and it has hurt me.

Last weekend we left the state. I hoped I would have been able to get away from the internet, but I couldn’t. I was able to check in with sites I didn’t realize I memorized the passwords to. Bizarre. Even stranger was seeing D. nearly cry. R. was able to pull up the proper Girls with Insurance page and read my essay. He DID NOT cry. I feel you should know that.

The strange part is that this piece seems able to touch people. I didn’t think it was sad, but I’m informed that it is.

—
And I was going to get up early and post this. My body had other plans. At least now I know exactly where I am in the cycle of this cold. It seems to be following the one Husband had while we were in PA, so I should be feeling really good in two days. Knock on wood.

Well, off to check Duotrope and then print out the corrections I made last night. Will I be done by the 24th? Your guess is as good as mine.

On New Year’s Eve, an unprecedented number of birds fell from the sky in Arkansas. If I weren’t a Charles Fort junky, I could say ‘That doesn’t happen,’ but I know it does. Fish, and even frogs, have been known to fall from the sky. Weird stuff happens all of the time.

Except this:

“What I was Going to Remind You of Someday” is the name of an essay I wrote from P. H. Madore’s contest prompt of “You Could Have Had Me.” There is a link to it on the right if you’re interested in reading it. I sent it in. I didn’t know if it arrived. I got an email stating I was in the running. I didn’t expect to win. The contest was scheduled to go until 31 January. On January 2^nd, I was notified I had won. I couldn’t believe it. I’m not gloating; that is unseemly. I am incredibly flattered. It has yet to fully sink in–that my writing was that good; close-down-a-writing-contest good.

Now that IS something that never happens. If it has, I haven’t heard about it.

My question is: What does that mean? Even though I was planning on working on novel writing this year–something I mentioned to everyone in the Christmas letter, should I take this as a sign that I ought to be working on essays instead? Creative non-fiction in general? I don’t know. This is a dilemma of my own choosing-I do know that and I am incredibly grateful for the problems I have, but I have this nagging feeling that maybe I should readjust my sights…

Chyo often reminds me that Doyle hated Sherlock; I like my “Sherlocks” though. At the moment, I have twenty-eight pieces submitted and one fellowship application being evaluated. I’m going to follow through with the chapter revisions that are on my to-do list. I’m going to be still and wait and see what comes next. I would think an acceptance for a short story would confuse me, though.

If you were going to enter the essay contest, I am sorry you didn’t get a chance to do so. I do not know the judge. Actually, I honestly felt like I was cheating on Dawn Corrigan when I submitted to a different editor at Girls with Insurance, if you want the truth. But I remind myself that she wasn’t running a contest and she prefers poetry and flash, not essays…

It’s a heck of a good blast into the New Year, except for those poor birds. I hope yours is going well. Thank you for stopping by!

Baby, it’s cold out there.  The snow is so fluffy, it should be swept, not shoveled.  And I’m inside with an oven that doesn’t want to cooperate with my demands…like going to a certain temperature and staying there.  A repairman is supposed to arrive any month now to look at it and see if it’s repairable.  Again.  To be honest, I wouldn’t mind replacing it. 

In the middle of NaNo, a contest was put up by one of the editors at Girls with Insurance .  I liked the premise, but didn’t have time to work on it.  This week I did.  I’m not a writer of nonfiction very often.  It is getting a bit easier though.  The name of the contest is “You Could Have Had Me.”

The piece I wrote, “What I Was Going to Remind You of Someday” does have elements of truth in it.  So much was added though, it seems a bit like fiction.  It takes place when I was seventeen or eighteen.  I don’t know.  It probably isn’t any good at all.  I sent it to 4 people.  Two have not gotten it yet because it went out in the holiday cards I sent yesterday afternoon. The one reply I did recieve said it was convincing. I think it reads like an upgraded bit of my past where there was cause and effect and it all made sense somehow.  Nothing like the life I actually lived back then.   

I’d been considering the idea for a month then wrote it in my notebook in less than an hour.  I touched it up, deleted 1/10th of it and sent it in.  The maddening thing is that the contest doesn’t close until 31 January.  That’s a long time to not even know if it landed in the correct email inbox. I absolutely felt like I was cheating, too.  I know Dawn isn’t the editor to choose to send nonfiction to at that magazine, but still…

I’ve been in correspondance with somebody who doesn’t want to remember anything about his past, saying it’s long gone.  I challenged him, asking  how else he would know what to write, what details to lend to a story if he could only use his present.  I think it’s preposterous not to consider what you know to be true to add to a story.  I can write about working in a strawberry feild because I did.  I can only imaging working as a forklift truck operator because I have not.

Well, since this is another Friday instead of a Thursday, I’ll chasten myself for not writing this blog entry in a timely fashion.  As this appears to be the last entry of this wonderful year, I wish you joy and thank you for reading.  If I still made resolutions, perhaps I’d strive to be on time next year.  Happy New Year!

I have no idea what I was thinking, but I was not thinking yesterday was Thursday. Perhaps it was the copious amounts of snow. Maybe it was worry. Maybe I need to change over my calendar pages in a timely fashion.

Fresh off NaNo and I’m very happy with the result. The rewrite will begin soon. Tomorrow is the TGIO party and I am looking forward to that and meeting up with the best Municipal Liaisons: Madeline http://madelinecfranklin.wordpress.com and Sarah Elizabeth Diemer  (Sarah Elizabeth Diemer)… If you’re thinking about attempting a book and want to shoot for next year’s challenge, these two will ease you through the days until you’re on the other side wondering why you had the slightest doubt about the process. True, you do feel like you’re coming out of a coma at the end, but it is a delicious feeling; all sorts of lovely sensations face you and you think ‘I could use that in the rewrite!’

The snow. Ah, well, it happens. The upside was that my husband brought home a gorgeous filing cabinet that was scheduled for a dumpster rendezvous. It’s tall and beige and now serves as part of my cubby. This office space has seen a lot of changes over the years. I had to give up a desk to gain this cabinet and so far, it is working out well. I like the perception I have that somehow I am stimulating the economy by the reduce/reuse/recycle model we’re continuing to embrace.

All plans pointed to us traveling over the hill to see J.T.  (Jim Julie Tuttle)and the Law (Eric Lawton)play at Colden Lakes tonight, but the stamina just wasn’t there. Jim, if you read this, honestly, start the set before 8 p.m.! I don’t think the decision to not go tonight was because of the strange encounter that occurred the last time we went to see them play — a month ago — at the same venue. I knew it was going to be a possibility, but seriously, finding myself sitting across the dance floor from one of the deepest? greatest? fiercest? longest? loves of my life–Well, description fails me here; I haven’t given it enough thought. I didn’t think I was going to blog about this, but … “My Johnny” was there and he looked good; he looked fine and it was weird. Shalom. Put that into lyrics and sing about it.

By the by, have I ever mentioned that I love my husband? I do and can’t say it enough. How often is there a relationship where you can tell the other that you had thoughts about kissing your high school sweetheart and your partner doesn’t get mad at all? Some men are truly awesome. I’m glad I get to live with one of them. Until next time!

Here it is, day 18 of the NaNo challenge and I’m slightly ahead of the game. I have 30792 words written so far when if I’d put in the minimum 1,667 words per a day, I’d only be at the 30006 word mark. What a strange, long learning process it’s been.

Last year, I had drawn up a “plan” on paper. I had divided a page into ten scenes I wanted to cover and attached other information that seemed relevant when I thought it was and that piece of paper helped greatly.

This year, I am flying blind. I started with two main characters, a setting and a basic concept which formed while I was engaged in last year’s challenge. I told those characters that I’d work with them later. Throughout the year, they have visited. I listened to them. Now that I’m writing about them, I find they have far more depth than I ever imagined.

Do I like where this story is going? Do I like it at all? I think that it has the bones of a pretty good novel, but it needs re-writing. Thank goodness I don’t have to think about revisions for at least 12 more days! One character has gone from female to male and back again a few times. Supporting characters I thought were vital to the story, I see aren’t even necessary. I may change my mind when I get farther along, but right now, I have to tell you, this is turning into a novel unlike the one I imagined I’d write.

Each morning, before I begin, I read most of the words from the day before and lately it’s felt like a fancy tickle of a great story to be. Who knows? I may never get to the editing of it, but perhaps I will. Naysayers be damned, right AvA? 😉

I have no doubt that somewhere, deep inside me, there is a hidden bit that KNOWS that the instant I think something will go one way, it won’t.  I say this because I find myself having deeper reserves of patience, perseverance and lord knows what else every time I turn around.

I love the members of my writer’s group. If I ever get a book deal, each of them will be given a mention on the “Special Thanks to…” page.

A change in the day had reproductions I didn’t anticipate. I couldn’t ‘switch’ my activities from Tuesday to Wednesday easily, so I’m running behind yet again. I had an FB email to answer which I was able to put off for a day. But then I received a volley of emails from someone I sent a physical letter and several pieces to a few weeks ago. This threw me off kilter because I thought I wouldn’t receive any response for a while yet. Those emails were fun to read though. More fodder…

So, when I started the ‘Celebration thread’ this afternoon, I was just about ashamed of myself. I only had one submission to report, and that was made early this morning. (Fingers crossed.) After babysitting, I ran up here to start to send out a few more things and now I am back to an “11” in my list of things sent out.

Tomorrow, because I didn’t go shopping today, I’ll have to do that and then on Sunday there is the kick-off party for NaNoWriMo. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am looking forward to the relative easy pace of November’s 1667 words a day — everyday.

Years ago, I came across the theory that if you had 12 things ‘out,’ you could expect one of them to be accepted. The first time I managed that, I had a poem published. Since then, I’ve kept a list and I make a line after I submit 12 individual things. Right now, I have 11 things listed since the last line I drew, so I’m antsy to get a ‘twelfth’ out.

I like to draw lines…

This led me to consider how valid the theory was, so I did the math. Since starting the list, I have sent out 295 things and 20 are still out = 275. I’ve had 17 things accepted/published, which puts me at 16.17 things submitted before 1 acceptance. Not bad. But if I add ‘special mentions’ (5) that takes me to 12.5 items submitted per 1 acceptance–which is awfully close to proving the theory. (I include everything in that list — from grant applications to New Yorker cartoon captions, letters to the editor to Scriblophile contest entries.)

The other bit of math I’ve been thinking about comes from Stephen King in his “On Writing.” In it he gives an equation that after a story is written, 10% should be trimmed. I agree with that — 90% of the time — in regards to my own writing. After years and years of hearing: “Trim! Cut! Less is more!” I feel trained. I automatically edit out ‘thats’ as I write, which is really going to be a hindrance when I start NaNoMo in less than a month…

Regardless, I’ve looked at a few things I wrote years ago and 10% is not always enough. In the last few hours, I’ve taken a 2890 word story written in the 1990’s and cut it down to 1677 words. I need to leave it for now and see how it reads in the morning, though I suspect a few more dozen words can be deleted.

That wasn’t effortless. I’d re-read it recently and didn’t think there was any saving this story at all. Once I gave up hope of ever being able to fix it for possible publication, I came up with a ‘fix’. Strange, isn’t it? It’s strange to me. I start browbeating myself, telling myself how horrible I am as a writer and then, boom: someone says ‘I like your story. I want to publish it.’ And on a few other days, I think, ‘Yes! This is good. It will be accepted and I’ll get the big bucks and be published in Glimmer Train.’ Then I receive the form rejection ‘why are you bothering us?’ email.

Sigh…

The ups…

The downs…

The life of one writer…

Those were mandatory deadlines; now I pick and choose from the myriad deadlines offered by writing contests and literary journals that only accept work during certain months. I’ve let a few slip, but it does serve its purpose. NPR’s 3-minute fiction came at an inopportune time, but I thought about the opening line and the last one for just a day or two. I scribbled a few notes down then wrote and polished it the next day. I still rather like it. I would have preferred the fiancé’s name to have been Samuel, but in an effort to get it to read in three minutes, I had to substitute Paul.

‘A Stranger So Helpful’ was written in a similar fashion though I’d known about that contest for months. The deadline was today. I thought it was humorous that when I gave it to B__ to read, she started to and thought a few paragraphs in that it was going to turn out one way and was ready to be furious with me that I gave it to her to read. She read on. After, she said it was a story of mine that she’d give to other people to read. A high compliment.

I’m glad that even though I’ve not been on time this month (September is ALWAYS a difficult month) with this blog, at least I am going to get this post in under the self-imposed deadline. I hope October turns out a bit more staid. Staid is a state of being that is underrated…