Kitty photo bomb

 

 

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Too good to be true!

The plotting for my book is going so well, it's disturbing. I fear when I sit down to write it, I'll hate it or something. Cause I'm so pleased with it now. It won't last!

I work on it mostly on my lunch breaks, and each day I get a new idea that makes the story more complex and coolio. Ahh!! And the characters are firming up, the world, the clothes, my playlists...

A couple more days and then we'll see!

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Remember when "mission statements" were all the rage?

Hart of Dixie is my unguilty guilty pleasure, and last year it helped me understand my goals as a writer. It's a New York fish out of water in small Southern town show, not very sophisticated, quite silly, with lots of cute characters and romances. And it helped me escape my troubles last year. In fact, when I quit Nanowrimo last November, I spent my nights catching up on all the old episodes. I will always associate it with heartbreak-copism.

Reminds me of the summer when I first really got into Heyer and Wodehouse. No heartbreak, but I had a job I hated as a student painter, and all I wanted to do each lunch hour, and every evening after work was FORGET. Cheerful, funny books that helped pass the time until life got better again. Survival via escapism.

I want to write books that serve that purpose. My aim isn't to move people, or make them cry, or make them think. It's to make them forget. If they have something needs forgetting.

Ooh, a slogan! "London Mabel Books: Amnesia for Your Shitty Life."

Jazz it up for me, Bryan

Another of my favorite songs, which Bryan Ferry recently made into a jazz version. Amusant.

Update - Oops! Posted the wrong videos! Here's the jazzy one.

Memoirs of a Long Life

A week ago I was re-reading parts of old Nanowrimo books and was overcome by The Mediocrity of It All. I kept thinking of Salieri...

I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint. On their behalf I deny Him, your God of no mercy. Your God who tortures men with longings they can never fulfill. He may forgive me: I shall never forgive Him.

Yes, these are rough drafts written in haste, they're not supposed to be good; but it was the lack of good jokes that depressed me. I was trying to find funny scenes to excerpt on my Nano author page and had trouble finding any I liked.

I'm not a bad writer, I know that. And I don't aspire to be That Genius Who Comes Along Only Once in a Generation. But I'd like to find myself tolerably amusing.

I went to bed depressed, but decided that the next day I would re-read a couple other stories and see if that helped. I only got 'round to one (the failed nano of last year) and it didn't blow my mind, but the first paragraph I read went like this:

I won’t bore you with what it’s like to read thirteen journals of Memoirs of a Long Life. I couldn’t describe the torture anyway. Not without popping out of the book and sticking a knife in your eye. 

It was enough Sliver of Hope to get me working on my plotting.

[In other news I don't recognize large swathes of that novel, and I think somewhere along the line I deleted the first part by accident. I think I underestimate how messed up I was last November.]
   
["Memoirs of a Long Life" is totally stolen from a PG Wodehouse story. Always loved that title.]
   

Stuck in a metaphor... again

So. Here we are again. Nose to nose. Daring the other to flinch.


It's me and teh Nanowrimo.*

I did my first Nanowrimo in their 4th year, in 2002. I think my brother heard of it and suggested we try it. He's not a writer specifically (he's a musician, but like most of us also dabbles in other arts) but he wrote a funny fantasy novel, and I wrote a modernization of Heyer's Frederica. It was loads of fun.

I then went back to school and bade Nano a tearful farewell, only writing in the summers when out of school. When I graduated in 2008 I did Nano in 2008, 2009 and 2010--only using it as a way of generating plot ideas and back story. And it was plotting for a story I'd wanted to write for years, so it was fun finally getting at it.

Last year, as you may remember, I had my first "loss." I actually wrote a 60 000 word book in May 2012 as part of a challenge hosted by froggy Judy Judy Judy, which was also super fun. But in November my marriage was failing so I was in a less cheery state of mind, and by the middle of Nano I gave myself permission to stop.

As you know, I haven't been able to write since. So doing Nano this year is both about (hopefully) refinding my mojo, and about closing the circle. "You're stuck in a metaphor! ...It's a metaphor!"

Of course... with Haley telling me to stop being such a little bitch, I'll probably be forced to finish
.
____
* Nanowrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's an organization where you sign up online saying you'll write a 50 000 word book in the month of November--about the size of a Harlequin or a teen novel. There's no prize, just the fun of cranking out 2000/words per night... more if you're like me and always fall behind early on. The idea is to help you stop criticizing your work and just get that first draft down. Some authors have published using it.

The Cannabisses

I've never smoked pot. I feel like I'll need to, at some point. Seems like something one should try once... though if you're male, better wait til much later in life so you don't risk setting off latent schizophrenia.

I considered trying it while out here cause, well, it's the West Coast. But then I thought: What if I like it too much? What if I fall into reefer madness?? I really can't afford a new pleasure like that. So I decided I'd better wait til I'm in my 80s and I have chronic pain that makes the weeds truly useful.

In the meantime I have a cute little book on the subject so I can at least read about it. It's got picshures n stuff.

I have learned that La Cucaracha is about Mexican Revolutionaries having run out of marijuana to smoke. ...Well it wasn't about that originally, but it's the version made most popular. A cucaracha is a cockroach. Roach.

So now I need to know: What have been your pot experiences? I know my online pals have wild and exciting histories.

The A- is banishèd

When I was in university I learned this...

If I was writing a paper and I felt a bit muddled, didn't feel like I had a full firm grasp on what I wanted to say and in what order and how and whether it was a good argument... then I knew it would be an A- paper.

But if it sat crystal clear before me, and all I had to do was write up a nice structure, have all my citations ready--the paper would flow and I knew I had an A. (Hey, there were no A+ at my school.)

I'd been working on my plot outline on my breaks at work, and last week something finally clicked. I finally found the right idea that makes me feel like I'm plotting an A rather than an A-. It made everything else fall into place.

That was the feeling I was waiting for. I knew that anything less and I'd once more Failz when I sat down to do the actual writing. I am hoping... hooooping... that I'm finally onto something that will lead to Written Words. We'll see!

Because my book is based on Henry V by Shakespeare, here's Will's great opening. Derek Jacobi invokes the spirit of our imaginations to fill in all the details that the play itself can't provide. "O for a muse of fire..."

zomg Sinead O'Connor enough enough enough!

So... Miley Cyrus.
I didn't watch the MM Video Music Awards, but right away heard on the radio about her raunchy performance. I shrugged it off. There's a story like this every few years when a female teen performer comes of age. Janet Jackson, Britney, Debbie whatserface etc--they've all had to make this transition and chose to do it through very sexualized performances or videos. It's a phase and often leads into a successful adult career. (Guys do it too, we just don't get as shocked at seeing bare chests.)

So I couldn't believe it when the furor just went on and on, and oh noes she's nekkid in her new video. OMG who cares. And then Sinead O'Connor came out with this public letter to Miley which some people liked but I disliked it on three levels. Here's a taste in case you haven't read it:

Nothing but harm will come in the long run, from allowing yourself to be exploited, and it is absolutely NOT in ANY way an empowerment of yourself or any other young women, for you to send across the message that you are to be valued (even by you) more for your sexual appeal than your obvious talent. ...

Yes, I’m suggesting you don’t care for yourself. That has to change. You ought be protected as a precious young lady by anyone in your employ and anyone around you, including you. This is a dangerous world. We don’t encourage our daughters to walk around naked in it because it makes them prey for animals and less than animals, a distressing majority of whom work in the music industry and its associated media.

First let me say--she gives a lot of solid advice about the music industry, and that stuff would have made a strong editorial. But as an open letter?

1. I am of the third wave feminism (is that it?) school of thought--that just because a woman is shaking her booty in public, doesn't mean she isn't in control of herself and her career, doesn't mean she dislikes herself. We're supposed to be in the "live and let live" phase of feminism. Stay home and take care of kids, or wear tons of make-up and high heels, or get up on stage and beat off on a foam finger. None of those things NONE OF THEM mean you are not a feminist. You can't look at these actions and draw conclusions about how a person feels about themselves, or that they're being duped by The Man.

Plus... isn't there a bit of "don't wear sexy clothes cause men can't control themselves" subtext in this?

As a feminist I found parts of this letter offensive.

2. Did Sinead time travel here from the Victorian Era? Precious young lady? If someone wrote me a letter like this I'd be torn between laughter and vomitus and outrage. Now, Miley responded poorly by referencing Sinead's struggles with mental illness. I, myself, would have just emailed her a video of me scratching my face with my middle finger.

And Sinead has written FOUR MORE LETTERS since, demanding an apology, and accusing Miley of making people think Sinead is still in the middle of a break down. ...I think writing someone FIVE OPEN LETTERS says more about your mental state than the stupid comments of a 20 year old pop star. It's sad at this point.

3. It's bad strategy!! If you're given advice like this by someone who loves you, someone in your personal life who you know knows you and really loves you, then you might listen to it. But from anyone else? How many of us respond well to someone patting us on the head and telling us we don't know what we're doing? I hate that shit at 40, but can you imagine at 20? zomg. You can't talk to people like this.

Stop the madness.

Wrecking Ball mashed up with Mumford & Sons - really works!


Jolene

I hope this guy has a maid

Once I get up I feel better
Then I pull myself together
I remember those two letters
It will be OK

Why i can't write! (and it's cats)

Sent to me by Ms Brownlow.

(From “Natural History” by Donald Barthelme, published in the August 1971 issue of Harper’s).

Maybe my brain thinks Fernando is a cat? Or is the Haley mojo just taking some time to come online? She's been in an adjustment period, after all. Though she seems quite at home now. She's enjoying having ALL the sleeping spots to herself: [going clockwise around room]

- round cat scratch house (on top and inside)
- my lap
- my chest
- sofa if unoccupied
- tupperware drawers
- window sill
- bed
- dollar store tent
- book bag
- quilt which she pulled down and arranged on the floor to her liking, then crawled inside to sleep
- sewing table
- laundry room if open

And she finally broke a dish yesterday, so she must really feel at home. Now that she's asserted her dominance over me and my things.

In other cat news:

  

Falling for Fall?

 I feel like I know so many people who love Fall, but it's just not my thing. Probably because I've been cold my whole life. The only thing I like is that you can wear the biggest % of your wardrobe. But you can do that in Spring! So forget you, Fall.

I do, however, understand this sentiment (passed to me by Ms Brownlow):

“October is a fine and dangerous season in America. It is dry and cool and the land is wild with red and gold and crimson, and all the lassitudes of August have seeped out of your blood, and you are full of ambition. It is a wonderful time to begin anything at all. You go to college and every course in the catalogue looks wonderful. The names of the subjects seem to lay open the way to a new world. Your arms are full of new, clean notebooks, waiting to be filled. You pass through the doors of the library and the smell of thousands of well-kept books makes your head swim with a clean and subtle pleasure. You have a new hat, a new sweater, perhaps, or a whole new suit. Even the nickels and the quarters in your pocket feel new, and the buildings shine in the glorious sun.”
—     Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain


And I get a bit of "ooh la la" from the feeling of Nanowrimo coming on, whether I'm participating or not. The nano folk did a good thing in taking such a drab month and attaching some fun to it.

Wanna be on your mind...

I have such a crush on Moss

Getting rough with my plot

Tempts me every year. Cause as November approaches and they send out emails and prep the web site and people you know start saying they're gonna do it... it feels like a holiday is coming! It really does. I get excited. And it's something that turns bla November into something sparkly. It's Writing Christmas!

I'm still plotting my novel. Right now I'm focusing on two elements that I hope will make this story writeable:

(a) Working out every important plot point. I might come up with better ideas once I'm writing, but I need to start with really solid ones in case I don't. I've come up with all kinds of character motivations etc for this story, but sometimes they've felt flat to me. So now I'm pushing and shoving this plot around until the RIGHT ideas emerge. Strong and clear motivations. Sense of urgency/deadlines for the characters. Important things at stake. Torturing my peoples. I want all those strong elements of plot to be in place, and not the "hmm let's try this" ok ones.

(b) I want to work the Comic Set Pieces. Not the details, just the premises. In a comedy novel the comic set pieces are the equivalent of big action sequences in action flicks. They anchor the story and get people excited. If you look at Bridesmaids' set pieces you see this:
* What if they were all trying on dresses in a high end shop and were hit with diarrhea?
* What if they were on a plane and the protagonist got drunk and out of control?
* What if the protagonist lost it at her best friend's shower?
* The love interest has totally cut her off but she now needs his help. How does she get his attention? [That was my favorite one--see video at the end of this post.]

You don't need to plan the details for those scenes. The scenes need to further the plot (which even the diarrhea scene does, which is why I have to admire it), but you can go hog wild and have fun with how it plays out. And these are the scenes you'll feel excited about writing--they propel you. Or they should. If they're good enough.

So this is what I'm up to right now. Already some much better ideas have emerged.

Chris O'Dowd is ADORABLE. Also love him in The IT Crowd.

random story about moi

I think I've mentioned that in the mornings I'm an animal. A feral cat who you should not try to get near, who shies away from people. At home when people try to interact with me I'm an a**hole, without wanting to be. It's like my mouth has an A**hole Translator built in and anything I say comes out mean. (When I step into work I manage to get this down to just a dazed look and the inability to comprehend complex ideas.)

Now that I'm living semi alone it's MUCH easier. Such a relief. But I still sit in the downstairs entrance of my parents' home to put my shoes on, and they always call down a goodbye, and it takes an effort to say goodbye back.

But recently I was tying up my shoes and heard my dad explaining the US government shut down incorrectly to my step-mother, and imagine their shock when suddenly from the basement there came a rapid fire 1 minute lecture on what's caused the shut down. My dad said in shocked tones: "So that's what it takes to get you to talk in the morning!"

     

If I ever write the f****r

So I'm afraid my story won't be funny or interesting. I somehow worry that my funny is broken. In my writing.

But sometimes I'll make someone at work laugh and that helps, especially when I think I was only mildly amusing. Twice this week I had customers comment on me making a good joke. It helped. I told myself: I can do this, I can make my new book funny.

(If I ever write the fucker.)

"Why don't you stay awhile, see how it's done."

You know where this writer's block is coming from? I'm afraid I'm going to bore myself. Halfway through my nano last November I started disliking my story, my characters, everything. And now whenever I think of writing I get all "vanity vanity all is vanity" because I'm not going to enjoy it. That's my fear.

But, I'm plugging along, looking for ways back in. Tonight's inspiration is Motown boy bands and their spawn. The dance moves, the skinny suits, the 'tude--I love it all.

The originals...




Best use of the moonwalk since Jackson "debuted" it at Motown's 25th...


My #2 boyfriend after Oscar Wilde...


And these days, Bruno:

Haters wanna hate, lovers wanna love...

Thank God Key and Peele came along...





...because Chappelle left a big hole in my heart when he backed off from show biz.

"Fuck off n***** that's my bus stop, I know where I'm at, I'm going home."

Countdown: I'm out of the lost and found...

We've hit the first marker! 8 months til I return home. So here's my favorite countdown song, and favorite Lindsey Buckingham song, and actually just one of my favorite songs.



I'm waiting on the countdown
Sitting in the shade
Things about to turn around
How the madness fades
Oh, I've been waiting on the countdown
Things about to turn around
And now I'm out of the lost and found
Just waiting on the countdown

Time slips away
Oh, this feeling lingers
Right here I'm going to stay
I've been waiting on the countdown
Things about to turn around
And now I'm out of the lost and found
Just waiting on the countdown

So I'm sitting in the shade
Under the dreaming tree
How the madness fades
Right here I'm going to be
Oh, I've been waiting on the countdown
Things about to turn around
And now I'm out of the lost and found
Just waiting on the countdown