squeetus

Getting through a story

And in my ongoing quest to answer emailed questions, here's one I get a lot: "I'm writing a book and having trouble finishing it.  Do you have any advice on how a person can get their thoughts out or should it just come to you naturally?"

First, I think the writing process is very unique for each writer, so what works for me may not work for you. But in my personal experience, I wasn't able to finish a book until I:

1. Had lived long enough to have something to write about. I tried for 15 years to finish a book, but was unable until in my twenties. I think I needed to experience enough and have a certain maturity to be able to look at story with perspective.
2. Learned to make and keep daily writing goals. Until I decided, I'm writing this many words or pages each day until I'm done, no matter what, I was never able to finish any stories of any length.
3. Accepted a lousy first draft. Once I really understood that I was never, ever going to write something wonderful on the first draft, I gave myself permission to write a bad draft and found writer's block didn't haunt me in the same way. Remember, it's true for most writers that rewriting is easier than writing a first draft, so the goal is to get that sucker out.
4. Discovered my own writing process. Do you outline with obsessive detail? Do you discover the story as you go? Do you write the story linearly always or do you jump around to any scene that appeals to you at the moment? Once you know your own writing process, getting through your book will be easier. But, in order to discover that process, you have to WRITE. A lot.

Try to have fun with your story. Try to enjoy the writing process. Turn off any thoughts of publication and just find your story. I think that's the best advice I can give.

Happy feasting!

I realized that my trip to Miami was the tenth one I've taken this calendar year (that is, trips requiring a flight, not including the local conferences I've done). Ten! That's way too many. I'll be scaling way back next year. I've decided not to go anywhere unless I can take Max and the baby along (and someone to help watch them), so I'm not feeling awfully mobile. It's sort of bad timing to be in a nesting phase, since I have two books coming out next year (austenland - May, book of a thousand days - fall). But the traveling was very hard on my family, and I just can't do it anymore.

I'm so excited about book of a thousand days! I don't know what it is about that story that makes me so happy. I'm just beyond eager to share it with people, and yet at the same time I've been extremely hush-hush about it. So far, only three friends/family members have read it. It's diary format and the main character, Dashti, does sketches along with her diary entries. Just yesterday I started getting scans of some of the sketches the artist is doing and they're so lovely. They're very simple, ink with a thin brush, just what I hoped they'd be. I've seen other work by the cover artist as well and he's so great. I think it's going to be a gorgeous book.

For all you friends outside the US, be sure to engorge yourselves on high calorie side dishes tomorrow, in honor of Thanksgiving. Ah, a holiday all about food! And, um, family and being grateful, too...

Sand butt

So, I experienced a memorable embarrassing moment while in Miami. We stayed two nights on the fabulous Miami Beach. Max loved playing in the sand and jumping the waves. He and Dean were playing in the water while I took a rest, lounging in the sand. The waves would come up to my waist and then pull back again. It was extremely relaxing.

After awhile, I thought I should check the time, so I got up to go get my watch. There were two young guys sitting on lounges right by ours, and I was already feeling terribly glam in my maternity suit among all the bikini clad girls, so I hussled up the beach toward our stuff. But as soon as I stood up, I felt something odd in my rear end section. A quick pat to the region revealed the truth: Yes, it seems that while I was sitting, the waves were loading about a pound of sand into the butt of my swim suit. I turned and ran into the water, but it seemed to take forever to get deep enough to hide, and meanwhile the entire beach had a lovely view of my swimsuit butt heavy and hanging down. I'm sure it looked like I pooed my pants.

Dean showed proper sympathy for my predicament by liberally laughing at me.

Nightmare survived

Whew. Home from Miami. The beach was wonderful, the schools visited were SO great. All the kids were--wow! And everywhere I go, I get very encouraged about the future because of the amazing educators that I meet.

But, the trip ended up being a nightmare. Ack. I will never, ever do that again. Never travel anywhere involving layovers when I'm 8 months pregnant, and my husband has a sinus infection, and I'm traveling with a toddler. Frankly, Max was the best of the three of us. What a trooper. Dean and I really tried to hold it together, but both ways we met with long waits in airports, extended delays, weather and equiptment problems. Yesterday, I was up, either presenting at schools or traveling, for over 20 hours straight. That's hard on me regularly, but in third trimester of pregnancy, it was night of the living dead. It got to the point that while on the second flight, I actually had a panic attack. I don't get those, I guess that's what it was--I started to hyperventilate and cry because I was so exhausted. I can't think of a more physically taxing thing I've done outside of labor.

But, home again. Playing Baby Tiger and Mama Tiger. House is a mess. I haven't written in 5 days. But I'll pull it together. Very soon. You'll see.

zzzz...

I'm behind in everything. I've hit the "I'm huge and restlessly uncomfortable" stage of pregnancy, and although I love the belly (I happen to think I'm terribly cute right now--how's that for sassitude?), it's hard to sleep. I wake in the morning, exhausted and underslept, so I end up napping during Max's quiet time, and everything is falling apart. I barely manage to get my daily writing done, and everything else in my life must slide.

But Max and I had a wonderful morning. It's gorgeous weather here, sunny and 70. We took a long walk, holding hands and talking about backhoes and leaves and garbage trucks, then we went to the park. All morning we were tigers, Mama Tiger and Baby Tiger. He's pretty much divine. Now he's resting, and I'm off to put a dent in the graphic novel.

Here's an ad with Miss Piggy that is on our Muppets DVD extras. I love it. I can't think of many famous people I would love to meet but would make me starstruck. Frank Oz is one of them.

Batman strikes

We had a great Halloween! Max is of the age where the whole experience was a delight. He had no expectations, so at each door when he said, "Twick ow tweat" and they gave him something, he was so surprised and elated. His favorite was giving handfuls of candy to the people who came to our door. He was the cutest Batman ever and would only let us call him "Batman" whenever in costume.

Check out this great pumpkin my friend Laura made:

In audio book news, I received a call from the company producing the austenland audio book and they're starting to look at talent. They bandied about the name of an actor who I would swoon for--we'll see if her schedule and inclination would move her to accept. I imagine it's a long shot, but I'll report here as soon as I know anything. Full Cast has completed recording princess academy and is just putting on finishing touches, and they've cast and begun recording enna burning.

Dean and I continue working on the new graphic novel, sequel to rapunzel's revenge. It's slow going. We're working at just getting a skeleton of a first draft and then put in the music later. It's pretty pathetic right now. But it'll be great. It will. Eventually.