Organization

It must be spring, because I'm on an organizing kick. The garage and shed were easy - most of the stuff we've been tripping over went to the dump. The bad thing about going to the dump is that other people are tossing away perfectly good junk, and I have to be held back from diving into the pile to drag it out and save it from the landfill. Because if I do, it goes home to the shed or the garage, and we've wasted a perfectly lovely weekend.

Then there are the closets. The fav shoes the puppy, who is no longer a puppy, chewed but I still love them. Gone. The sweaters I haven't worn in two winters because they're too warm and at my stage of life, I'm never cold. I like this being warm thing during the winter. In the South in the summer, not so much, which means those summer outfits that trap sweat get a new home at Goodwill, too.

And finally, I bought new Levalors for the upstairs windows. Fresh, no dust, no sun-fading. Only problem is, the new ones are thicker than the discards, and that means new curtain rods. Once upon a time, I had some that would work with the new shades, but. . . Oh,yeah. I tossed them during some spring cleaning a while ago.

Okay, I'll let my beloved keep some of the garage junk he says he might need "someday."

Restrictor Plate Racing

For those of you who are NASCAR fans, you all understand what a restrictor plate does. It slows the cars down, quite a bit. Talladega and Daytona are the two restrictor plate races, and the powers-that-be have throttled back the cars to keep them below 200 MPH. What does this have to do with writing, you ask.

A ton of stuff works to slow down writers. Real life work, family obligations, grocery shopping, yard work, cleaning out the closets, cooking, clean kitchen floors, I could go on and on and on. Our Talladega is probably any holiday, from Thanksgiving to Christmas to cupcakes for the third grade. Women get the restrictor plate big time if they're caring for kids. So how do we keep ourselves in the race?

It's easy and a bit glib to say " Ignore it all. Let the floors get sticky." As women, we just can't punch through all the restrictor plates that would keep us from getting to the work in progress. The only way I know to do it, is just do it. Tell everyone you are at your computer and you won't answer the phone or any calls for "Mom!" unless there's arterial blood. Give yourself at least four hours a week all by yourself to write. You should be able to knock out at least ten pages in four hours, and if you can't, don't sweat it. The point is, those hours are sacred and inviolate, and you use them however you can to get the book running flat out.

The crazy closets will be there, the cupcakes can be bought at the store, and someone else can cook dinner one night a week. Take off that restrictor plate on a weekly basis for just a few hours, and you'll find your book will, finally, get finished.

Movie Night

My beloved and I have promised each other we'll go to the movies at least one night a week. By happy circumstance, we discovered that Thursday nights we can get an almost private showing of any film, and we're really enjoying it. Since we're usually alone in the theater, we can talk to each other through the screening. Yes, we're those kind of annoying people. But only when there's no one to be bothered.

The movies we're seeing may not win awards or even get good reviews, but we're the type of people who can come up with a good point about anything. Even if we're discussing how the plot veered from the Hero's Journey (ah, Joseph Campbell, how you changed the landscape for writers!)or how the hand-held camera made us dizzy, we have fun. As a writer, I'm always amazed how much visual storytelling can take shortcuts that writers can't. And when my husband complains that a movie chops out too much from a favorite book, I remind him that a 120 page script can't include everything in a 400 page novel. He always brings up a good point, that in a movie you don't have to explain everything, while a novel, especially a mystery, must.

Writer friends of mine build thick notebooks, complete with pictures of movie stars who resemble their characters, to visualize their plots. I'm not like that. I can't see anyone but the character in my head, and that character never looks like anyone but that person. Even their names come with them. That's why I'm amazed at films that cast actors to personify a fictional character. What a talent that is, to pick the right person to bring a role to life. I'm in awe. Mine come to me full blown, which is by far the easier task.

It's a good thing I work with the written word.

VMFA talk on artists marketing themselves

Spent an interesting hour listening to a talk on how artists can get themselves and their work "out there." Many of the tips apply to both visual and print artists. The most important is to believe in yourself. The second is to seek the money. The artist who provides quality, beautiful,and moving work certainly deserves to be paid. Unfortunately, in publishing as in art, the author is the least compensated in most cases. Refuse to accept less than your work is worth. Picasso certainly knew how to go where the money was. And why not?

As with writers, it was recommended that that you have an artist statement. For a writer, this is your theme. What one sentence describes this work? What do you want the person seeing/reading your piece to take away from it? To learn from it? To feel from it? To sense and see in it? Have a friend who won't accept a glib answer pose these questions and write down your answers after your friend does a follow up. Make this as in depth as you can.

Ask yourself how this work differs from your other work, if it does. Why is it better? Give yourself props for growing as an artist and let those who hold the purse strings know you are even better today than you were yesterday. Analyze your art objectively and present it with artist words that cut to the heart of the work.

Don't forget to praise yourself. Art is hard work. Be proud of your accomplishments.

The Gettysburg Address

Sometimes shorter is better. I'm watching Ken Burn's magnificent Civil War program, and was reminded that Lincoln thought the speech was a flop. Although newspapers of the time ridiculed Lincoln's two minutes on the stage, the speaker who preceded him, Edward Everett, who went on for two hours, recognized what Lincoln had done. Praising Lincoln, Everett said Lincoln had, in two minutes, captured what he, Everett, had failed to do in two hours. Lincoln knew the power of words better than most. Why he doubted the effect of his Gettysburg Address is astounding.

Lincoln reminds me that each and every syllable matters. Longer isn't always the way to go. The best ideas can and should be boiled down to their essence, to the finest attenuation we can give them. Let them shine, sparkle, and glitter, and not lose themselves in fluff and feathers.

Think of me fighting the fluff and feathers. It's an ongoing battle.

Idioms

I love figures of speech. Think of the visual possibilities of that phrase. Idioms. Colloquialisms. Regionalisms. Slang. All of those bits and pieces of everyday conversation that we accept as a matter of course define our background, our region of the country, our age. Cool. Boffo. Super. Sick. Rockin'. Neat. If I list many more, I'll be showing my age. As a matter of fact, these phrases show the age of books in which they're used as well.

I was reading a super funny book with a little boy I'm helping with his reading, and some of the "cool" kid dialogue was totally foreign to this very hip kid because its publication date was long before he was born. I had to explain what the terms meant. Not sure I did a very good job, because explaining idioms is like giving words to something you just KNOW. It made me think, however, that using the lingo that's in style and the hottest at the time you write your book isn't exactly a great idea. Language goes in and out of style as swiftly as shoulder pads and glittery lapels for women's suits.

Anyone remember The Little Colonel books for children? I rest my case . . .

Anniversary

My beloved and I celebrated our wedding anniversary today by heading to the VMFA Picasso exhibit. The crowd on a Thursday morning was incredible, and if you plan on going, go early. While not a big Picasso fan, I was fascinated by the creative process as displayed by the curators. A well-designed exhibit, cohesive and illuminating, it teaches as it entertains. I don't think Picasso liked women very much, which makes me wonder why women were attracted to him.

Famous men seem, on the average, to be h$&l on women and their families. Genius is no excuse for cruelty and neglect. Thank the good Lord for men who love without conflict or selfishness. My gem of a husband is both a good man and a wonderful father. We were blessed to find each other. I wouldn't trade him for ten Picassos.

Hither and Yon with Books

I grew up all over the world. Literally. I had what I think was a very normal childhood, with two loving parents and as much stability you can have when you're moved from school to school in the middle of the year. In no way was I harmed by this nomadic educational experience. In fact, I was probably turned into a voracious reader as a result. We read, as a family, books about where we were traveling so we'd know what to see, what to expect, and how to get along in that culture. And of course, books went with us on our long car/plane/boat rides. Much of what I learned came from seeing foreign places, museums, and living where the common language wasn't English, and books always paved the way first.

I'll never forget reading Mary Renault's The Bull from the Sea series (Theseus as hero!), then seeing Crete in person. Or reading about the cedars of Lebanon, and then getting to go to college there. Uriah the Hittite came alive when I saw Hittite ruins in Turkey. The Wisteria Covered Porch, a Turkish novel, limned a sense of Istanbul that was picture-perfect when I got there.

Even if you never leave your own town, you can experience life as a true international traveler. Let books take you there.

Dorchester Publishing's Dishonesty

Everyone needs to boycott Dorchester/Leisure books. I say this with the deepest regret, since Leisure published many of my favorite Western authors, but the publisher is now treating its authors like chattel.

Please read author Brian Keene's web site. www.briankeene.com You'll get a thorough explanation of how Dorchester is publishing and selling books without paying the authors, and has been doing so for quite a while now.

Also, avoid Avalon books. They too treat authors as if they're hired help (and the pay doesn't top $1000, which you only get if you're very lucky), and the books belong to the publisher in perpetuity. They never supply sales or royalty records, or any accounting for sales to authors. If you want more information, contact me directly through this blog.

County School Budgets

I know I'm on a tear these days, but I simply can't stand injustice. The Board of Supervisors rep for my district presented the county's proposed budget (which isn't going to change, no matter how many objections are received from constituents). It has cut school funding from approximately $79 million in 2009 (I believe that's the correct date, it may be earlier) to about $41 million for the next fiscal year. And the Board of Supervisors is proud of this figure.

Who are they kidding? The county is filled with kids going to school in portable trailers because of severe overcrowding in old, decrepit brick and mortar buildings, teachers who have to buy their own supplies, and schools that couldn't function without volunteers who have replaced the school reading specialists and librarians, as well as classroom assistants. Computers for the kids are old and outdated, running ancient software. These children will not succeed in the future because we aren't giving them to tools to do so.

Wonder why the U.S. has fallen in the world standings of science and math proficiency? It doesn't help that teachers must teach to the test, the Standards of Learning. (Let's learn what to regurgitate for the exam, boys and girls, forget about critical and creative thinking.) It also doesn't help that the learning environment is less than ideal. (Gee, the girls' bathroom on the fourth grade hall hasn't been open for over a month because we don't have the money to fix it.) It doesn't promote a better learning environment, either, when class sizes grow to over 30 pupils because we can't hire enough teachers to keep them smaller.

My children were fortunate to have a private education in a nurturing environment where they were taught not only how to learn, but how to think. They didn't need to worry about outdated textbooks or not having what they needed to excel. I get so angry when I think of all the promising children out there who have to make do with less, and then even less, because the Board of Supervisors can't see the fallacy of their position on the school budget.

Virginia Tech moves on because it costs too much?

Virginia Tech, site of the most horrific school tragedy since Kent State in the Vietnam War era, has decided it has had enough of remembering the deaths of the 32 students who were killed four years ago. Since I have a child finishing her degree there now, I haven't forgotten. And I won't.

While I'm not one to dwell on the past, I can only imagine how the parents and survivors felt when notified that they will no longer be guests of the university at any remembrance services or events. (Oh, and classes will not be held on the anniversary date from now on.) The president, Charles Steger, announced that the approximately $10,000 cost is too high for the Ischool to bear.

Who has lost sight of what matters here? Charles Steger earns annually $732,064, eighth high in the nation, I believe. Gee, do you think it would kill him to take a $10,000 pay cut and allow these survivors and parents to do what feels right for themselves and the Tech community? Outrageous. The president of Virginia Tech has shown time and again that he's out of touch with the true sentiments of the Tech family, as it truly is.

Charles Steger has got to go. Now.

Darlington: Rookie Drivers and Writers

We trekked to South Carolina, out in the middle of nowhere, to a place called Darlington, to see the truck race last Saturday night. Given how far the track is from pretty much anywhere with a hotel, the crowd was amazing. While the stands were nowhere near full, they were shakin' and cheering, and filled with more bodies than we'd expected to find. The squished seats were about as bad as during a Sprint Cup race.

Once again, a Cup driver in great equipment wins a lower tiered race. Kasey Kahne took the checkered flag, and the nice thing about it was, he seemed genuinely thrilled. But does this make it right? On one hand, the experienced drivers can teach a few tricks to the newbies, like Johanna Long. But at what cost? The young rookie drivers starting out generally don't have great equipment or sponsors with deep pockets, and a run into the safer barrier pretty much kills their day. I understand there's no way Nascar can tell a driver he/she can't run a race in any of the series (unless there's a legal reason, such as drug use, or lack of experience at a tough track like Talladega), but it seems as if there's no safe place for young drivers to learn their trade as long as the upper echelons of the talent pool, with their money behind them, splash in the smaller puddles and then take home all the rubber duckies. (Mixed metaphor, I know, I know!)

It's like the business situation for newer writers these days. Once upon a time, a publisher would take time to bring along a promising young author, working with each successive book to build a fan base and improve the published product. Not anymore. Didn't hit it big with your first book? Good-bye, and don't bother to submit to us ever again. Where can young writers learn about publishing except from the actual doing of it?

Perhaps ebooks will be the savior of promising new writers who have been shunned by the money people in their New York high rises for whom the bottom line, not the nurturing of talent, is the only goal. I sure hope so.

Ideas

Where does a writer get her ideas? Everywhere. A snatch of a conversation, an article in the newspaper (pinned to the board in the office is a whole wall of them!), a history book (oh my, history, yes!), or a memory. A hint of a song, a scent in the breeze, a new place. Travel awakens the creative juices like nothing except a quiet day at the beach, parked under an umbrella far from the cocoanut-scented crowds. Music can trigger a scene (Sting's Desert Rose), as can food. How often does a meal remind you of a gathering of fascinating friends, a romantic date, a miserable moment? Every moment of an everyday life adds to the creative well, into which you can dip whenever you want.

I knew a writer who said his ideas all came from the time before he hit 21. Since he was well beyond that age, I thought how sad it was that he felt his creativity ended so soon. Every day brings me something new, something I can mull and let steep in my head until I need it. Sometimes it's how an oak leaf clings to a branch day after day, or the way the moon shadows that same oak tree at midnight. I've been told I'm a visual writer, and I can see why. I "see" the scenes I write as they play out in my head like a slide show. Guess that comes from being an art history major in college - and memorizing millions of slides of works of art for identification purposes.

Writers pay attention, and that's the real secret behind where writers get their ideas.

YA Heroes

The Eagle (from the Rosemary Sutcliffe book, The Eagle of the Ninth), and I am Number Four, are both interesting movies derived from YA books. Never having read the book upon which Number Four is based, I can't compare the movie to it, but I noticed a common thread in these films. They both have heroes. Honest-to-goodness heroes who embark on the classic hero's journey, as defined by Joseph Campbell.

They may be a bit dense at times, have a rocky road to gain the knowledge they need to complete their journeys, and in Number Four, the journey is just beginning at the end of the movie. Obviously, sequels have been planned. These heroes are brave, willing to sacrifice self for the greater good, and loyal, all characteristics necessary to the hero's make-up. I'm impressed and willing to journey with them down their difficult roads.

Where are the heroes in movies made for the adult audience? The Social Network is a good movie, but there are no heroes. No journey into the inner cave. No stand for honor and the greater good. The George Clooney movie about the assassin - The American - had nothing heroic going for it. So he kills people and wants out. Then he kills some more. Big deal. Have adults lost the capacity to recognize a hero?

I don't think so. The audience for both The Eagle and I am Number Four was predominately adult. Not younger adults, but folks who've already raised their kids. That tells me the films and books without heroes aren't speaking to that generation. No wonder I'm reading more and more YA these days. They, more than the "adult" fare, provde me with a hero's journey.

Trevor!

It's taken me a while, but I'm just recovering from the wild Daytona 500. Trevor Bayne stunned the NASCAR world by having the best car and the smoothest, coolest temperament on the track. Victory Lane was such a joyous place, no one could object to the Wood Brothers being there with their very very rookie driver.

What is truly wonderful is how clear Trevor is in his faith, and how unafraid he is to say he prays. With his crew. Before every race. And he talks about it. What a nice change. Not that there aren't nice, even devout, drivers lining up on the track. Yet Trevor is refreshingly open and honest, not to mention grateful, for God's direction in his life.

We hope and pray he never loses sight of his relationship with his Lord.

More Daytona...

So I managed to stay awake long enough to see Michael Waltrip win the truck race on the 10th anniversary of his Daytona 500 win as a driver for Dale Earnhardt Inc. The tears were flowing, both in Victory Lane and in the Speed announcer's booth as Darrell Waltrip was remembering ten years ago along with everyone watching. What a race - Michael pulled out from behind Sadler with about a hundred yards to go and just beat Sadler to the line. I imagine Sadler didn't complain too much - the history of the moment trumped everything else.

Now for the NW race! Oh my, if this is half as good as the truck race, it's going to be a lulu.

Must make veggie soup so it can "work" while the race is on. I'll post the recipe, a family fav, when I get a chance.

Trucks!

Oh my, the engines are roaring on the Daytona track, and I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. With temperatures in the seventies, I got a ton of errands run and chores knocked off my list. All of which were much more pleasant in such lovely weather, but sheesh. . . I'm ready for bed and it's not yet nine!

Staying put in front of the computer can be just as exhausting, but in a different way. I need a nice long walk with the doglet to work out those kinks and clear my mind of the aftershocks of living in a make-believe world for hours.

Must stay awake. Need to stay awake. Oh, to heck with it. I'll be perkier for the NW race tomorrow afternoon.

Rewrites

Does any writer ever feel a book is completely finished? Or it simply that deadlines must be met and the book turned in, whether or not you're happy with it?

In rereading some older books, books I thought were pretty danged good, I'm seized with an almost irrepressible urge to rewrite them, sentence by sentence. I've rationalized this scary feeling by telling myself that I'm a better writer now, that I never cease learning with each new book, and it's okay, take a deep breath, and move on. But it's not that easy.

Self-doubt about one's artistic ability seems to be inherent in the creative process. You don't improve if you think you're God's literary gift to the world. But I've countered that paralyzing demon so far by knowing that my talent isn't "mine," in other words, a personal possession. I can never explain where my ideas originate or how I express them, because I know they come from a source other than my pea-picking teeny brain. I can, and do, work on my craft. I study other writers and their techniques. I work to make the story clear and fun to read. But those are just mechanics.

As a creative person, I'm a work in progress and I don't intend to stop learning for one second how to be better at what I do.

Spoiled Brat Brian Vickers

I'm on a tear. Tear, as in "rip it up," not "tear," as in weeping. Well, maybe a bit of both. Just read the Maxim article about Brian Vickers, one of my fav drivers.

At 27 yo, he's too young to be this dissipated. Despite a scare with blood clots that almost left him dead, he's a hard-drinking partier who doesn't seem to realize the full import of the second chance he's been given. Sure, he's back in the 83 car after his docs cleared him to drive. But what did he learn when he wasn't able to get behind the wheel for ten months? Sounds like he learned he'd better drink his vodka faster and harder to make up for lost time.

How does a red-headed, munchkin-looking guy from a small town in North Carolina turn into a Manhatten club-hopper on a steady binge? Sounds to me as if his mama needs to grab him by the ear and drag him home for a good talking-to. And his daddy might use a switch behind the woodshed on his backside, for good measure.

People with talent, money, and millions of people in their corners don't need to waste their lives the way it sounds like Vickers is. If he has a death wish, he's on the right road. And it's too *$(@ bad.