I am just hours away from entering my third National Novel Writing Month. Last year I was successful and I hope this year to surpass what I did last year, after all it is progression forward that I am after as well as a finished product. I promise to try to keep you all up to date on how my thirty day writing journey goes as I strove to write 2500 words a day for the month of November. So while I am coming off the Halloween sugar high my brain is plotting out a storyline and praying that my characters are ready to show me their way….
About NaNo WriMo
www.nanowrimo.org
What: Writing one 50,000-word novel from scratch in a month's time.
Who: You! We can't do this unless we have some other people trying it as well. Let's write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.
Why: The reasons are endless! To actively participate in one of our era's most enchanting art forms! To write without having to obsess over quality. To be able to make obscure references to passages from our novels at parties. To be able to mock real novelists who dawdle on and on, taking far longer than 30 days to produce their work.
When: You can sign up anytime to add your name to the roster and browse the forums. Writing begins November 1. To be added to the official list of winners, you must reajavascript:void(0)ch the 50,000-word mark by November 30 at midnight. Once your novel has been verified by our web-based team of robotic word counters, the partying begins.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
I’m Back!....I Promise
Well we have all heard the saying when you get knocked off the horse you should pick yourself up and get right back on….I certainly fell off mine. I lost sight of my goals and dreams and let the laziness, fear, and craziness of life seep in and take over my thoughts until I was all but paralyzed and useless. I cam up with excuse after excuse not to write, or post on my blog…
I was too tired.
I was depressed.
I was angry.
I was sad.
I was broke.
I was not creative.
I was fat.
I was too busy.
I was reading.
In pain.
I was not healthy.
I was afraid.
I was not worthy.
That’s quite a lot of low self-worth. While I cannot pretend those feelings are not real. I cannot wholly accept them because I am worthy. I do have a right to be happy and productive and loved and to love. And so…with that in mind…I am back to my writing. To the thing I love to do.
I recently sent a story of mine out to be critiqued by someone who used to be a publisher and editor. Her comments and total destruction of my work devastated me. She actually asked me how old I was and if I had had any training. I was embarrassed and shamed. I thought maybe I have been wrong all this time and I chose the wrong path and I am not the good writer I thought myself to be.
Then I started thinking…wait a minute. Everybody has to be good at something. Writing is my passion. I am good. That was one critique. One. If I give up based on that, shame on me. So I have reread what she wrote. I have rewritten and made changes. Will it make a difference? I do not know. But I feel better.
So here’s to all who become discouraged….whether in their writing, life, work, finances, family, or friends….know that you are not alone and that you are worthy to be have and loved and to love. Keep doing what you love until you master your fear, only then will you succeed.
I was too tired.
I was depressed.
I was angry.
I was sad.
I was broke.
I was not creative.
I was fat.
I was too busy.
I was reading.
In pain.
I was not healthy.
I was afraid.
I was not worthy.
That’s quite a lot of low self-worth. While I cannot pretend those feelings are not real. I cannot wholly accept them because I am worthy. I do have a right to be happy and productive and loved and to love. And so…with that in mind…I am back to my writing. To the thing I love to do.
I recently sent a story of mine out to be critiqued by someone who used to be a publisher and editor. Her comments and total destruction of my work devastated me. She actually asked me how old I was and if I had had any training. I was embarrassed and shamed. I thought maybe I have been wrong all this time and I chose the wrong path and I am not the good writer I thought myself to be.
Then I started thinking…wait a minute. Everybody has to be good at something. Writing is my passion. I am good. That was one critique. One. If I give up based on that, shame on me. So I have reread what she wrote. I have rewritten and made changes. Will it make a difference? I do not know. But I feel better.
So here’s to all who become discouraged….whether in their writing, life, work, finances, family, or friends….know that you are not alone and that you are worthy to be have and loved and to love. Keep doing what you love until you master your fear, only then will you succeed.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Quote of the Week!
“Watch your thoughts; they become words.
Watch your words; they become actions.
Watch your actions; they become habits.
Watch your habits; they become character.
Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.” — Lao-Tze
I read this and realized how true it is and how often we don’t watch the words that come out of our mouths. I am determined this week to become more aware of what I say and do. I challenge each of you to the same.
Stay Tuned...for more Ramblings of Rascal
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Authors that Made a Difference
Writers are first and foremost readers. We read, read, and read again. We spend our time divided between living in other worlds other writers have created and in own created worlds. I love books and have ever since I learned to read. While I am not into most non-fiction books, I will read them. My passion is fiction, more specifically, romance and mystery.
So which author has made the biggest impression on my life and writing career? HA! I only wish I could narrow it down to one or even three. Fortunately, there are many.
I will start with a very renowned author who I began reading at an early age. Danielle Steele. Whether you have read her books or watched them as they came up on TV movies, I don’t think anyone can say her work has not affected or touched them in some way. Her books have made me laugh, cry, and every emotion in between. She has a gift of bringing about a story that pulls the reader in. The woman has talent and her books take me places from other countries to the journey within and explore such depths that pushes her characters to test their limits in a way I find fascinating and enthralling.
Nora Roberts AKA JD. Robb is a splendid author whose trilogies I have read a multitude of times and her JD Robb series is fantastic! I think I have read every single one of her books and constantly look for her new stuff when it comes available. Her romances sizzle for sure.
Christine Feehan introduced me to paranormal romance. I met her at a writer’s conference a while back and found her to be an absolute delight. Her Carpathian series makes me drool. Sigh If only I could write like her.
Laura K. Hamilton’s books border on the erotic side of romance using vampires and were’s to lure you right in. Brilliant and dazzling.
For mystery and suspense I look to James Patterson, nother author I have read all his works, and to Tess Geritsen. I also love Tony Hillerman because I am fascinated with Native American culture and Tami Hoag because she tells a great story.
Classic…Stephen King..because..well…he’s Stephen King. Need I really say more? The man is brilliant and scary…Anyone who can scare the daylight out of me through a book is worthy of praise.
Kim Harrison has given me a new profound way of looking at the witch and demon world with her witch series. I sit on pins and needles waiting, begging, needing, wanting a new book to come out. She makes me believe anything is possible to make believable
.
The woman that has captivated me within this last year is Janet Evanovitch. Her Stephanie Plum series is hilarious! Add in the mystery and blunders and you have a wonderful writing recipe!My shelves are full of many more but I wanted to give a special shout out to these wonderful folks for inspiring me!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Writing Exercise
Writer’s Digest produces a whole lot of writing prompts, one for every day of the year. I don’t do writing practices everyday as I should, but I do them at least three times a week and I thought I would share this one with you all.
You're in bed and you awaken to a presidential candidate standing outside your window, staring into your face with a giant smile. What's going on? (Fictional candidates, preferably).
The morning light is filtering in through the window as my eyes slowly open. I stretch slowly as I ponder how I will spend the day. I’m in no rush to get up and out of bed, except for the tiny odd sensation of being watched. I push myself up and look towards the window. I almost fall out of bed as I see a tall familiar looking man staring in through my window. I don’t scream because I am irritated and annoyed and bordering on downright mad. Who does he think he is!
I manage to find my robe as I stride angrily to my front door. I yank it open and stomp outside.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I shout. The man keeps smiling. There is something about him that makes me think I know him. He is over six feet tall and wearing a dark suit and nice shoes as he stands amidst my flowerbed. Those teeth are so white, I think as I wonder if I need to brush mine.
“Good morning, Miss. Jenny. Terribly sorry for the intrusion, but I need your help,” the man said, still smiling.
“What could you possibly need from me at seven in the morning! I haven’t even had coffee yet,” I grumble.
“Well, I could go and get us some, I noticed a coffee house not far from here.”
I gave an exasparated sigh. “Oh, come in. I’ll make coffee. No use spending good money on bad coffee.”
I allowed the stranger into my house and sat him at the kitchen table. As I made the coffee it hit me. I knew where I had seen that face! It was plastered all over the news and televisions.
“Hey, You’re that guy that wants to run for president,” I say.
“That’s right, Abraham Simon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ok, right. So what was it you were doing spying in my bedroom window? You don’t have some sort of closet peeping tom thing happening?”
“No, Miss. Jenny, I’m afraid I need your help. You see, in order to run for president I need a history, a past to be delved into,” Abraham said as he accepted the mug of coffee.
“A what?” I asked, not sure what he meant or how it involved me.
“I have nothing to hide, no skeletons, no nothing really. I’m just an ordinary man with a squeaky record. I want you to write something more sordid for me,” Abraham said.
“Huh? You want me to make up a past for you? Why? And why me?” I said as I wondered if America needed to know about his psychiatric issues.
“Americans, they need someone real and real people need to have a background worthy of gossip, and I’m afraid I have nothing.”
“But that should be a good thing,” I argued.
“Unfortunately, according to the polls, it’s not. Will you help me?”
“Why me?” I asked.
“You are a writer. A creative one at that. This project needs special care and I feel you are the best person for the job.”
Well, that's all I got done in ten minutes...not too shabby...until next time.
You're in bed and you awaken to a presidential candidate standing outside your window, staring into your face with a giant smile. What's going on? (Fictional candidates, preferably).
The morning light is filtering in through the window as my eyes slowly open. I stretch slowly as I ponder how I will spend the day. I’m in no rush to get up and out of bed, except for the tiny odd sensation of being watched. I push myself up and look towards the window. I almost fall out of bed as I see a tall familiar looking man staring in through my window. I don’t scream because I am irritated and annoyed and bordering on downright mad. Who does he think he is!
I manage to find my robe as I stride angrily to my front door. I yank it open and stomp outside.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I shout. The man keeps smiling. There is something about him that makes me think I know him. He is over six feet tall and wearing a dark suit and nice shoes as he stands amidst my flowerbed. Those teeth are so white, I think as I wonder if I need to brush mine.
“Good morning, Miss. Jenny. Terribly sorry for the intrusion, but I need your help,” the man said, still smiling.
“What could you possibly need from me at seven in the morning! I haven’t even had coffee yet,” I grumble.
“Well, I could go and get us some, I noticed a coffee house not far from here.”
I gave an exasparated sigh. “Oh, come in. I’ll make coffee. No use spending good money on bad coffee.”
I allowed the stranger into my house and sat him at the kitchen table. As I made the coffee it hit me. I knew where I had seen that face! It was plastered all over the news and televisions.
“Hey, You’re that guy that wants to run for president,” I say.
“That’s right, Abraham Simon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ok, right. So what was it you were doing spying in my bedroom window? You don’t have some sort of closet peeping tom thing happening?”
“No, Miss. Jenny, I’m afraid I need your help. You see, in order to run for president I need a history, a past to be delved into,” Abraham said as he accepted the mug of coffee.
“A what?” I asked, not sure what he meant or how it involved me.
“I have nothing to hide, no skeletons, no nothing really. I’m just an ordinary man with a squeaky record. I want you to write something more sordid for me,” Abraham said.
“Huh? You want me to make up a past for you? Why? And why me?” I said as I wondered if America needed to know about his psychiatric issues.
“Americans, they need someone real and real people need to have a background worthy of gossip, and I’m afraid I have nothing.”
“But that should be a good thing,” I argued.
“Unfortunately, according to the polls, it’s not. Will you help me?”
“Why me?” I asked.
“You are a writer. A creative one at that. This project needs special care and I feel you are the best person for the job.”
Well, that's all I got done in ten minutes...not too shabby...until next time.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Joys of Editing
I spent today trying to edit and get some rewrites done on my novel I wrote for NaNo WriMo. It was interesting, here is this novel I worked on solid for thirty days and have not looked at since and all the sudden I was thrown immediately back into the world, as though I had never left. My characters missed me and as a reward I decided to perk up their lives a little bit more and throw in another challenge. The story is finished, yet unfinished. It lacks a bit more substance but it has all the elements. It has a catchy first chapter to pull you in, followed by a brief but not too telling of my heroines background. In rereading my story, I still feel it’s a bit flat. It has drama, suspense, a tad bit of romance, which by the way, for me, is way out of character.
I consider myself a romance genre writer, yet the novel I wrote barely has any in it. I wonder why. Perhaps, romance is not at all my strongest suit. But that’s why I enjoy writing. I get to explore all my hidden talents and discover new ones. So, I wasn’t bent out of shape I didn’t write a very steamy romance, like most of my other works. Instead, I embraced the direction that my heroine, Cassidy took me on as she explored her journey options.
I think that writing is a bit like having children. You teach them your values and hope that when it comes time for them to make decisions that they make the best one. Oh, how it does hurt when they make the wrong one, but alas, we must let go and let them grow up. So, as I am screaming at Cassidy, or another character to stop, take heed, or watch out, I know that I must ultimately step back, while biting my nails and let her proceed as I trust she will make out ok.
A big thank you goes out to my own parents, as I am sure I caused them many moments of such thoughts and hair raising experiences. One day, if I should write a book about myself I will surely add most of those moments I can remember.
I consider myself a romance genre writer, yet the novel I wrote barely has any in it. I wonder why. Perhaps, romance is not at all my strongest suit. But that’s why I enjoy writing. I get to explore all my hidden talents and discover new ones. So, I wasn’t bent out of shape I didn’t write a very steamy romance, like most of my other works. Instead, I embraced the direction that my heroine, Cassidy took me on as she explored her journey options.
I think that writing is a bit like having children. You teach them your values and hope that when it comes time for them to make decisions that they make the best one. Oh, how it does hurt when they make the wrong one, but alas, we must let go and let them grow up. So, as I am screaming at Cassidy, or another character to stop, take heed, or watch out, I know that I must ultimately step back, while biting my nails and let her proceed as I trust she will make out ok.
A big thank you goes out to my own parents, as I am sure I caused them many moments of such thoughts and hair raising experiences. One day, if I should write a book about myself I will surely add most of those moments I can remember.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Immune System Transplant?
I would like to make known my official request for an immune system transplant. I must emphasize my great disappointment with mine as I seem to have picked up every bug that has graced our office at work. If they come in thinking about sneezing, in a couple of days I will pick it up. This is very frustrating. Because then I get sick, and I become whiny and wimpy and just want to lay around and then I get angry because I have no energy to do the things I want or need to do, like WRITE!
So, today while I have battled the lethargy, the sniffles, coughing and throat tickling, the bad taste of cough medicines(really, they cannot find a way to make them taste reasonable?) I am sorry to say this is the only writing I have managed to come up with today. I had a great blog planned for today, that I have to postpone. But I digress…in my new lifestyle changes for 2009 I am making my health a bit more of a priority as I realize that the older I get the less I am able to shake things off. *sigh*
Maybe it is truly that I am getting older, but I honestly feel like my body has begun to betray me….nevermind the take-out and unhealthy foods I at times find myself gorging on, or the lack of true exercise I do….Apparently, excercising one’s brain is NOT a form of physical exercise to be counted towards a healthy body. I know…it saddens me as well.
I am off now, to take another pill, blow my nose, and search online for ways to improve upon this immune system that I have been granted. Who knows…maybe I will unwittingly stumble upon the best cure-all for…everything.
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