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JUNE 2009
It was a little disconcerting. I'm not sure that it's a good thing to be able to move between personas like that. Without being aware of it, I mean. I console myself that at least it wasn't head-hopping. Each scene was separate and intended to be seen from a different point of view.
All the same, it's taken most of this week for me to start to feel comfortable in writing as a "non-'I'" again.
Am I the only person who has this problem? I hope not.
07 June, 2009
The Business of Writing
Tomorrow is the beginning of week nine of the twelve week Web Building 101 for Writers course Jem and I have been running for RWNZ. It's been an interesting learning curve--and not just for the students.
Up until now the whole marketing aspect of writing is something I've never been confident to tackle. I'm not sure I'm confident about it now, either.
But one thing is becoming clear as I battle with the concept of being a salesperson.
Writing--the business of writing, I mean--is more than just sitting down and producing a book. A writer is as much a product as her book is. She's in the business of selling herself as well as what she produces.
A very scary thought.
02 June, 2009
Memories
Nine years ago today I sat in a hospice with my family, and held my father's hand while he died. My sister and I sang to him the songs he'd sung to us when we were children. "I'll be your sweetheart if you will be mine" and "Did you not hear my lady go down the garden singing?" mixed with selections from "The White Horse Inn".
Some people might think the choice strange, but we didn't really sing the words. We sang the love. We sang the memories. We sang the tenderness and laughter. We sang, knowing those songs would never be the same again.
Nine years, and it seems like yesterday.
Nine years, and it seems like forever.
Always Too Soon To Say Goodbye
I told you that I loved you
Many times, in many ways.
I knew you understood me
Even on the darkest days.
But now you've left me here alone--
Life's pieces in my hand--
While memories of times we shared
Flow through my heart, like sand.
I should be glad you're free from pain
And happy in the Light,
But all I hear is silence
And all I see is night.
I have to let you go because
There's nothing else to do...
But, how I wish that you were here.
Or I was there, with you.
It's never too late for love
To take the wind and fly.
It's never too late to love--
But it's always too soon
To say goodbye
01 June, 2009
Writing up a Storm
Had a wonderful weekend with one of my critique partners brainstorming our current Works In Progress.
We spent the three days in a bach miles away from anyone we knew. No phone. No internet. No distractions--except for the Farmers' Market at Matahana on Saturday morning, and the Giant Book Sale at the local hall. But we won't talk about those...
Except for that brief taste of local color we worked solidly, building our worlds, crafting our characters, and bouncing ideas around.
I said last week that my mind felt crammed with tangled ideas. It's still crammed, but now the ideas are not so tangled. The kinks aren't all worked out yet, but I have my twenty chapter outline (yes, I'm a plotter. I can't help it) complete with disasters, story turns, scene outlines and a host of other things that make me feel well-organized. And neurotic.
Now, comes the hard part. Now I have to start writing the book.
I'll keep you posted.
21 June, 2009
The Schizophrenia of Writing
This week I began the actual writing of my new WIP.
TSSOH and I have taken a while to get to grips, and I think part of the problem is that, in this book, I'm writing third person multiple POV. Although my first book was the same, my last two have been first person and from the heroine's perspective.
I've caught myself several times writing 'me' and 'mine'. Which is OK. But when I went back and read it over I discovered I was several different 'me's--the heroine, the hero and the villain.