Buzz

   I sat outside this morning with my laptop to enjoy the warm weather and the sun and the incredible smell of the blossoms on the lemon trees. I got some work done (actual work for the paying day job) and then I got some work done (fun work, reading my critique partner's latest chapter) and even started to write a few words on my own WIP.
   It was quite productive. Right up until I identified the faint noise in the background. It had been rising and falling but was mostly drowned out by the usual sounds I hear in the yard – the neighbor's dogs, kids playing outside, a soccer game at a nearby park (also, the infernal car alarm on the '98 Ford Taurus down the block, but it was short-lived).
   When the noise grew louder, I finally got up to look over the fence and see what the new neighbors were up to. And when I got close to the big lemon tree, I saw the source of the buzzing.
    It was this guy. And a couple hundred of his friends. They were also enjoying the lemon blossoms. Or maybe they were getting their work done. I don't know a lot about bees. I will say that they were very industrious and didn't mind me poking around and taking some photographs of them.
   So, while I wasn't working as hard as my little striped visitors, this was a very fruitful start to the weekend.
   Hope your weekend is, also!

Life, Interfering

Howarth, Yorkshire. Home of Brontes.

  It's been a long time since I've checked in and I wish I could say I've been writing. Well, I have been writing, but not anything fun. The thing they don't really tell you when you start thinking about being a lawyer is how much of your job depends on writing. Not that it would have deterred me because I love writing. But I'm ready to write something that's, well, fun. With imaginary people suffering imaginary woes. Instead, my writing has been about real people and real problems and it's been a real downer. But it is what I get paid to do.
   In the middle of this crush of work, I spoke with three people IN A ROW who were heading out on vacations to Hawaii, the Caribbean, and on a cruise ship. Clearly, I am doing something wrong.
   In the last three weeks, my "writing" has consisted mostly of listening to writing podcasts on my commute and thinking about the scene that I need to write and why it is that I'm not inspired to write it. Is there something missing? Why is this scene so difficult to write? It needs to get done, though, so I can get it to my critique partner and then move on to the scene that I want to write.
   Or maybe I'll just skip this scene and skip to the fun stuff.

When You're Going Through Hell, Keep Going

Montepulciano, Italy.

    Winston Churchill said that. That's what the Internet says, so it must be true.
     Some weeks are better than others. Some weeks bring professional satisfaction, sunny days, a cooperative muse.
    Other weeks just kick you in the teeth.
    This has been one of the teeth-kicking weeks, but it is over. That light at the end of the tunnel wasn't an oncoming train. It was a way out of this terrible week. Or it was a bartender holding a Spanish coffee, the blue flame of burning 151-proof rum lighting my way to the weekend.
    Either way, it's a three-day weekend. And it's a good time for an extra day off from my day job, too. I've been writing very steadily and all of a sudden I realized that I'm actually pretty close to the end of my work in progress. The last few days weren't good for much, but I did get inspired to take out my frustrations on imaginary people. 
   I'm not there yet, but I have momentum. This is an odd feeling, since I feel like I've been wading through mud for the last few months on this project. Now suddenly, my characters have grown, they have uncovered clues, they are figuring out the mystery. They're running out of things to do, which I am pretty sure means the book is about to end. I'm not entirely sure about that. I haven't been here before.
     My strategy of writing daily and focusing on one WIP at a time is working, even though I'm totally breaking the second rule because when I'm stuck on the main novel, I've been writing on the novella project. And that one is also getting close to the end. It's working, even when I hate most of the words I'm writing.
     With three days off, I am looking forward to keeping my momentum going. There's that light again, blinking in the distance. At the end, I'll either have a finished book or a mug of coffee, mixed with Kahlua, rum and triple sec and with a rim of caramelized sugar.

Welcoming the Weekend

Tiny grocery in Florence. Packed with all sorts of goodness.

   Wait. It's already Friday? This week has gone by in a blur.
   This might explain why this morning I realized I was still carrying around the grocery shopping list I wrote on Tuesday. Which is why my breakfast options were, uh, scarce. I've also been driving around with my dry-cleaning all week. My clothes are well traveled, but still not dry-cleaned.
   Anyway, this week was jammed-packed with work. I have still been writing when I can, but not as much as I'd like (of course). Today, I was looking forward to sleeping in a little since I didn't have to be at work until 10. My brain nudged me awake around 5 a.m. to remind me of all the things I need to do:  grab file for Monday morning court appearance, write letter to that one guy, call that other guy, research that thing I was thinking about in time for that meeting, find out where that meeting is going to be.
   But instead of getting up and writing a few hundred words, I picked up my phone and checked Twitter. It's been two days since I joined and OK, I get it now. Between Twitter and Pinterest, my productivity is in dire jeopardy. However, if today goes as planned (cue manic laughter), I will be writing this afternoon. Right after the grocery shopping. Seriously. There is nothing to eat here.
 

Another Sunny Day

   This beautiful weather is all well and good, but I'm pretty sure we're supposed to have rain around now. I am working from home today and spent an hour with my laptop out on my backyard patio. It's lovely, but honestly, how am I supposed to get any work done when it's so nice outside?

   I did manage to work through the impulse to do anything else. Then, I added another 1,500 words to my WIP, which takes place in Minnesota, in the middle of winter. This weather is giving my imagination a work out. 

   Maybe it's time to go wash my car. That always seems to make it rain.
   So, yeah. This was a post about the weather. Sorry.

The Year of "The End"

    No, not the Mayan prophecy. I’m referring to making 2012 about finishing what I’ve started. Last year, I wrote just under 106,000 words. And finished nothing. This year, that is going to change.
    I’m trying to keep my goals simple, so that I can knock a few items off this list and maybe even add others if time permits. This list is also for my writing goals, not personal ones. Of course, I’m making the annual “make healthier choices, exercise more, be more patient” resolutions. Here, though, are what I want to accomplish while wearing my writer hat (it’s a fedora, of course).
    1.  Write. Every day.
    Even if it’s just a sentence, or a phrase. Write something that relates to the novel that I am working on at that time. An idea that wakes me up, a description, a potential title. That will work. Ideally, it will be many sentences or even a completed scene for the work in progress, but any fiction will count toward this.
    2.  Finish You, Again.
    I want to finish this novel so very much. It feels like I’m wandering aimlessly around the middle third of the book, trying to figure out how to get to the end. I can see it from here, but I’m not sure how to get there. My primary goal for this year is to find that path. I’m currently at about 60,000 words.
    3.  Finish first novella in the trilogy.
    This is a story that makes me happy to write. I just really like it. The characters make me laugh, it’s not overly complicated so I don’t have the same structure issues as the novel. Plus, I have an awesome title. I want to finish this one and get to my critique partner for her thoughts. I’m currently at just under 24,000 words.
    4.  Outline second and third novellas in the trilogy.
    Not only does the first novella make me smile when I’m writing it, the plans for the second two in the series do also. I’m looking forward to writing the two stories that follow, but I’m settling for outlines in 2012.
    5.  Submit something.
    Lower on the list because I need to have completed something first. This is here because I need to make that leap of faith and share my work with someone other than my critique partner (who is incredible, by the way). It could be a submission to a contest, an agent, or a publisher – but as soon as I have something done, I will be looking for places to submit. 

    So, that’s it. I have some reserve goals that I can move up the list, if I accomplish these, but I want to focus on one project at a time. If 2011 taught me anything, it’s that I am not capable of finishing anything if my attention is diverted to a half-dozen projects. This means that I’m mothballing a couple beloved stories – for now. But they will still be there when I finish this list.
    I have my 2012 word-count spreadsheet ready to go, a fresh cup of coffee, and two days before I have to return to work. Let's get to writing.

A Blur of Bright Lights and Cookies

Where have I been?

Well, same as you I expect:  shopping, baking, wrapping, delivering packages, decorating, writing cards, making lists, checking twice, panicking about shipping deadlines, attending holiday parties, throwing holiday parties, cleaning up lots of sticky Tom & Jerry mugs, photographing the neighbor's over-the-top light display, making travel plans, more baking, eating, eating, eating, more shopping.


Oh, and dog-sitting.

And working, for a couple more days. After that, I'll be adding skiing (snow gods permitting). I will be back after Christmas. Until then, have a wonderful holiday season.

The Home Team Advantage

    Twenty-one people. Ten pounds of potatoes. Two turkeys. Wine in almost every color and flavor imaginable.
    But it’s over and no one cried. Well, there was a minor meltdown over the chocolate cake, but I swear it wasn’t me. And the poor 3-year-old who was at eye-level with a triple chocolate mousse cake cannot be blamed for getting upset after being repeatedly told she can't have any just yet.
    It was a hectic, but fun get-together that included family and friends. Spending time with my family, including two of my three siblings, reminded me to give thanks for my family. My loud, funny, generous, and smart family.
    We were not raised with material excess, but there was always money for books. My parents worked hard, but there was always time for a trip to the library. There were difficult times, but there were more water balloon fights, hide-and-seek games (usually in a dark house, for extra adrenaline), camping trips, practical jokes, and games of all sorts, than I could ever count. I am thankful that my parents raised their four children to value education at all stages of life and nurtured our intellectual curiosity. That they taught us to find the laughter in any bad situation.
    What I value most, though, that they raised us to be a team — to look out for each other. I think that couldn’t have been an easy thing to accomplish with four kids whose ages span a decade. Somehow, they did it. I knew my two older brothers were always looking out for me, just as I was keeping an eye on my younger sister.
    These instincts don’t fade over time. Now, instead of looking out for each other in the halls of the high school, we’re there for each other after job losses and divorces and other grown-up issues. There is some bond that develops after years of exchanging promises not to tell mom and dad. It's a bond that outlives the mutually assured destruction of sharing and keeping those secrets.
     Of course, it would be a terrible breach of tradition to have my brother stay for the weekend and not short-sheet his bed. Or not to needle my sister about her love-life. Or for them to not tell the story — yet again — about how I wrecked my parents’ car on the way back from the garage where it was being repaired after my first accident.
    This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that these wonderful people are my family and are on my team.

Giving Thanks

    It’s early yet, but in the spirit of John Scalzi’s Thanksgiving Advent Calendar, I thought I would focus on the things for which I am grateful. I have much for which to be thankful, including a mother who taught me not to end a sentence with a preposition, which is why I rewrote that previous sentence.
    Today’s exercise in gratitude is dedicated to my day job.
    I would love to be able to be a full-time writer. I daydream of waking up, going for a walk, then coming home to sit down at my computer and spend the day telling stories, hanging out with my imaginary friends, and researching the issues that confront them. But I know that is a daydream, a near impossibility for me. Why? Well, there’s the student loans that I will have hanging over my head for the next 30 years or so. And how my self-employed husband and I have come to enjoy the luxury of health insurance.
    I am lucky, though, to have found a career that I love. I know many lawyers don’t like their jobs. Many of my friends who are lawyers would gladly chuck their jobs to do, well, pretty much anything else. I actually like my job. It can be frustrating, difficult, and at times even heartbreaking. But I get to challenge myself intellectually and, best of all, help people who are in a bad situation. That is rewarding.
    I also get to tell those people’s stories, though not with the creative license I would have if I were a full-time fiction writer. The true stories that I get to share with judges and juries, however, are often every bit as compelling.
    So, yes, I will probably bitch about my day job. But if given a whopping advance to write, say, a multi-book series — well, that would be a tough call.
    For about a minute.
    Until a whopping advance gets thrown my way, I’m happy to keep working in a job that lets me meet interesting people, learn something new every day, and work with fun, smart co-workers.
    And I’m thankful for that.

Balls!

That work thing I've been working on nonstop for a couple weeks is not going so terribly well. On the plus side, it can't last forever.

I hope to get back to, oh, a life outside of my office sometime in the next week or so. Until then, here is an illustration of what I've been muttering under my breath.

It's from Fort Point in San Francisco. I highly recommend a visit to the historic fort, unless you have a fear of narrow, steep, circular stone stairways. Then I recommend that you hang out on the first floor and enjoy the history and stay away from the roof, even though the views are amazing. Personally, the stairs freak me out a little but obviously I got over my vertigo or I'd be writing this from the roof of a historic fort under the Golden Gate Bridge.

Have a good week!

Vitamin ZZZZZ Deficiency

    I’ve touched on insomnia before, but it bears mentioning again because today I am suffering from a severe sleep deficiency. It must be severe because I just volunteered to host Thanksgiving at my home this year. Thanksgiving falls approximately two days after a major work event. This should be interesting.
    I’ve hosted Thanksgiving before, so in theory, I know what I’m doing. Not everyone one is convinced of this. The first time I hosted, my mother-in-law showed up with a turkey, stuffing, and gravy — “just in case.” Many people would have been insulted by this, but I just laughed. It was easy to laugh since my turkey was better (the secret:  brine that sucker). And then I filed that episode away for use in a future book.
    This year, we’ll probably have fewer than a dozen people, which is small for my family. My mother-in-law is going to bring green beans and an appetizer (ONE appetizer, I stressed. I expect a full buffet of snacks to emerge from her Buick.) Learning from past mistakes, I assigned my perpetually tardy sister-in-law to bring dessert. Other family members have volunteered to bring side dishes and I find that other than the turkey, my only task is going to be finding enough chairs and setting the table.
    I think this hosting gig is going to work out pretty well for me. But that could be the sleep deprivation talking. Stay tuned…

Inspiration Strikes Inconveniently

    I’ve been working long days — 10 to 12 hours — and doing a lot of traveling for work in preparation for a multiple-week work commitment. This not only requires prepping for that, but also getting everything else in the office in such a state that it can be neglected for at least two weeks. I’m exhausted and over-caffeinated.
    I want nothing more than to get a full night of sleep and spend a day or two working on my own writing projects. My imaginary people are waiting for me to get back to them and resolve their problems (they have no idea that things are going to get much worse for them before they get better). I’d like to wrap up one WIP by the end of the year and I can see that light at the end of the tunnel, if I can just find some time to sit down and focus.
    Of course, this is the perfect time for a new story idea to pop into my brain.
    A really good idea, too. One that I desperately want to write. A main character with a fascinating back story and an uncertain future. A setting that I know and love. I’ve even started compiling a soundtrack.    
    And yet, I have no idea when I’ll be able to explore this new world. Already on my plate are a romantic suspense novel that’s about 2/3 complete, and an idea and rough outline for a novella that has been haunting me since summer and which has since morphed into a trilogy of sorts. Not to mention that pesky full-time job.
    So what is it about a pending deadline that sparks my brain to start conjuring new stories to develop and uncover? Why does inspiration strike at the most inconvenient times? Or how can I channel that inspiration to the projects in front of me, so that they get completed?

Busy, busy, busy here, so I haven't had much time for my own writing lately.

View of the Golden Gate Bridge from Fort Point, July 2011.

Instead, here's a nice photo, so I can say that I'm still updating weekly. Or weakly. Whatever.

On the Nightstand

    The pile of books on my nightstand threatened to topple and smother me in my sleep, so I added a small bookshelf next to it. Problem solved? Not exactly. The additional space seemed to just beg me to buy more books.
    As a result, I now have a small mountain of books threatening to topple and kill me in my sleep, plus a bookcase with an equally unstable pillar of books.

I had to move a stack of books because they were blocking the light

    This, by the way, doesn’t include the audiobooks — four on my iPhone right now. Many more on my hard drive.
    Or the Kindle.
    Damn. It’s really a sickness, isn’t it?
    Currently, I’m reading one paper book (Kiss Me While I Sleep, by Linda Howard), one audiobook (A Field of Darkness, by Cornelia Read*), and am working through a couple writing guides on my Kindle. This probably makes me sound distracted. Which is true, but I have a system. I read the book at night before I go to sleep, listen to the audiobook on my commute, and read whatever is currently keeping my attention on the Kindle ... OK, a confession, I read the Kindle when I'm drying my hair. WHAT? You can't do that with a book, the pages won't stay put! It's totally normal!
  Ahem. If I sound defensive, it's because I live with a non-reader who totally doesn't get my need to surround myself with books.
  So, with this huge stack looming over me I've decided that I'm going to take a consumer hiatus and finish these, or at least a good portion of these, before I buy any more books this year. Of course, this new rule doesn't count the books I pre-ordered. And I do have a birthday approaching... So I don't imagine my nightstand will look uncluttered anytime soon.

* Can I take a minute to rave about A Field of Darkness? Well, it’s my blog, so yes, I can. God, it’s so good. I am loving it! It’s so good, I wish I were reading it and not listening to it, so I could go back and savor the author’s turns of phrase. She has a wonderful voice and I am enjoying all of the characters. I also love that it takes place in the late 1980s. I’ve already purchased the second book in the series and there’s a third, too! I am very, very happy.**

** Did I really just footnote a blog post? Damn you, law school!

A Decade Later

    Ten years ago, I was getting ready for work when my phone rang. The college intern working the early shift in the newsroom said in an uncertain voice, “LA called? They said I needed to call everyone and make sure you were aware of what was going on? In New York?”
    Fifteen minutes later, I was driving to work with my wet hair in a ponytail, listening to a live broadcast of the collapse of one of the towers. My mind flipped through its internal rolodex of everyone I knew who resided or worked in New York, then in Washington D.C., then Pennsylvania.
     The rest of the day passed in a blur. I do not remember many specifics, just the constant feeling that my colleagues on the East Coast needed help to cover this monumental story, but it felt like there was little those of us on the West Coast could do. Planes were grounded, there was no way to send reporters or photographers to assist them. We did what we could, which was not enough.
    I do remember the exact place where I finally broke down and started sobbing, where I had to pull my car over after 12 hours at work listening to stories of loss and horror.
    I think it was about three weeks later when my husband and I stood nervously in line at Virgin Air in San Francisco International Airport, waiting to fly to London for a long-planned vacation. We had asked about canceling, but the airline said no refunds. It was only our second time taking an overseas vacation and we had saved for a year for this trip, so we went – despite our mothers’ pleas to reconsider.
    What I remember most about the trip to England was how we were greeted. It seemed as though we were the only tourists foolish enough, or broke enough, to keep our travel plans. We had the country to ourselves. And each time we met someone, our American accents gave us away.
    “So terrible, dear, what happened,” a store clerk said, placing a consoling hand on mine as I paid for a purchase. Her eyes welled up with tears and so did mine.
    In York, a small shrine was set up in front of the cathedral, small American flags among the flowers, candles, and notes. In small towns, our flag was displayed in stores, in windows, and in public squares.
    The fear and horror of that first day eventually faded, replaced by deep sadness for the families and friends of those who died. But the feeling of solidarity and sympathy is what stays with me after a decade. The goodwill of friends I didn’t know I had, many of whom had lived through terrible attacks on their homeland. That remains and still inspires me.    
    While it is not always possible to hold the hand of someone touched by a disaster – man-made or natural – if you are so inclined, please consider reaching out in solidarity and support to those who need help:
    Partners in Health
    Doctors Without Borders
    American Red Cross
    Don’t know where to start researching charitable organizations? You might check: 
    Charity Watch (American Institute of Philanthropy).

Podcasts, Or The Reason I Just Missed My Exit

    Oh, how I love them. As I wait for my iPod to sync with all of my new podcasts, I thought I might talk about a few of my favorites.

    Writing
    I love all things bookish – reading and writing – so podcasts about books or writing are tops on this list. My favorite writing podcasts are, in no particular order:
Writing Excuses – No, I do not read or write fantasy or sci-fi. But these writers are a treasure trove of good advice, no matter the genre. I love that it’s concise, 15 minute long, so it doesn’t get bogged down in banter. If the topic starts to stray, they “can of worm” it and save it for another podcast. They’re funny, intelligent, and great guides for beginning writers. They’ve also broadened my reading list with their recommendations, so actually, I should revise that first sentence to say, “I used to not read fantasy or SF.”
I Should Be Writing – Mur Lafferty’s podcast is another writing podcast that inspires me to keep writing. She’s a writer who talks about how damn hard it is to write sometimes and the many ways there are to get discouraged. But she also keeps writing - no matter how hard it is. And she does great interviews. I appreciate that she is sharing her own writing journey with the rest of us.
Packing Heat – Unfortunately, no longer updated, but author Jordan Castillo Price put together 140+ podcasts that kick ass. Ignore the part where it says it’s for wannabe erotic fiction writers. This is just plain awesome advice for all writers. She talks about craft (dialogue, description, plotting, character arcs), business (the ins and outs of publishing, book covers, marketing, online presence), and many other helpful bits of advice (new software for writing, systems for backing up and versioning drafts, getting over writers block). Yes, she writes m/m erotic thrillers, which may not be your cup of tea. Get over it. She’s a damn good writer and has much wisdom to share. And it never hurts to have a few more synonyms for cock, right?

    News
    I am a total news junkie. It’s a sickness. My news podcasts include:  BBC Documentaries, BBC Africa, NPR’s Planet Money, In Our Time with Melvyn Bragg, World Affairs Council of Northern California, and the International Spy Museum SpyCast. To name a few.

    Other
How to categorize the others?
The Moth – Storytelling at its finest.
This American Life – I really don’t have to explain this to you, do I?
The Reading and Writing Podcast – Maybe this should go up under writing, but I tend to think of it more as a book podcast. Good interviews with authors, including Lee Childs, Carla Neggers and many others.
NPR’s Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me! – Makes me laugh in traffic. Other drivers fear me. As they should.

    What podcasts can you recommend? Have you considered starting one? What would it be about?

A Bad Day

    What makes a bad day?
    Clearly, death of a loved one makes the list, so let's just go past the major, life-changing bad days and go straight to everyday run-of-the-mill bad days that years later you can look back and laugh about. Ha. Ha. Heh.
    Many years ago, a very famous actor was considering running for governor of California. No, not that one. This was before the word Governator entered my lexicon. (Hint: It was Warren Beatty). It was my first day in a new office and Warren Beatty called looking to talk to a hot shot political reporter and when I went to tell him that there was a call for him, hot shot political reporter waved me away because he was on the phone with someone Very Important. That guy was a bit of a diva. Anyway, I went back to the phone, told Warren Beatty that Hot Shot Reporter couldn’t take his call, then when I went to transfer him to voicemail, I hung up on him.
    I hung up on Warren Beatty. On my first day at a new job.
    That was a bad day.
    I think Warren may have been having a bad day, too, because apparently he had just tried to call the Washington D.C. branch of our organization to talk to a national big deal political reporter, but was put on hold indefinitely, so that’s how he ended up in my incompetent hands.
    More recently, I had a bad birthday, which sucked extra hard. It was one of those birthdays with a zero attached (Hint: I am not saying which one). I had raging PMS, a big deadline at work, I jumped an age category on most surveys to a range that should include my mother, not me. At one point, I walked into the copy room and stepped on a piece of paper and my foot shot out in front of me. My first thought: “Good Lord, don’t break a hip.”
    Then, the kicker. My husband forgot my birthday. So I didn’t get any presents.
    “But you said you didn’t want a birthday party,” my husband said. “I thought that meant you didn’t want presents, either.”
    “Why would you think that? Of course I want presents. Presents make everything better.”
    And that’s how I ended up with a Kindle.
    Wait, how did I get here? Oh, right, bad days.
    This topic came to mind because I’m writing a novella that starts with my heroine having a bad day. As she sits in a holding cell at the county courthouse (never a sign of a good day), she compares this to other bad days:

     This was possibly the worst day of her life, Lindsey thought. Worse than the time she got pulled over on the way to her brother’s wedding and had to do a sobriety test on the side of the road while wearing a bridesmaids dress.
     Worse than the time she accidentally gave her boss a peanut-laced cookie and he swelled up like a parade float and had to be revived by paramedics in the middle of the newsroom.
     Even worse than the time she went out on a date with that lawyer who talked about his job all night, even though she was clearly trying to hear what that sleazy lobbyist was promising the mayor, and then didn’t ever call her again, even though the kissing portion of their date was fairly spectacular. Objectively speaking, she had to admit that it was a terrible date. She probably wouldn’t have called her, if their situations were reversed. Except for that part in the car. That was definitely worth a phone call.
     She didn’t expect to see Ben Gillespie ever again, but especially not under these circumstances. Not locked in a cell, waiting to face an angry judge.    

    I have to say, it was really fun to come up with other people’s bad days. So, have you had a bad day recently? What happened to make it so bad? Fender-bender? Ripped pants? Trip going up stairs? Flat tire? And how long did it take you to laugh about it?