not a musician:

Playing this week, “I Will Follow You Into the Dark,” by Death Cab For Cutie. (listen here, good guitar lesson here.) I’m in love with this song this week. It’s quiet and beautiful, and it inspired a heartbreaking little story idea.

not a film critic:

Into the Wild: Very thoughtful, and inspiring. Now I wanna backpack through Alaska. I know, the book is usually better, but my “to-read” list is a mile long already. Hubby read it and enjoyed it, and was able to point out where the differences were. I’m wondering if the film might have better suited the visuals of an adventure anyway?

I expected to be bored by it, but I absolutely wasn’t. I mean, how interesting can one guy be out in the wilderness? But the point is, he spent much of his journey meeting very interesting people, making these fantastic human connections that he outwardly rejected. He seemed to have such an impact on so many people, and came to an unfortunate conclusion in the end.

I make myself a promise though – when my kid(s) is grown and self-sufficient, I’m totally going to climb a mountain!

progress report, week of 12/7:

Not much bulk added to the novel this week (a few random lines, a couple good paragraphs). Christmas is starting to happen in a consuming way, hubby is sick… it’s just that time of year.

I did manage to send a story back out into the world again this week, and I wish it luck. I hope I’ve taught it all it needs to know, so that it might stand on its own little feet and prosper. Again, I subbed it to one of my top favorite magazines, lol! If it doesn’t work there, I might try my hand at simultaneous submissions next time. And maybe I’ll cast a bit more modestly, lol! You know, reaching for the stars and all

This week: whatever I can manage, considering it’s the week before Christmas and all. I still like the goal of having part one entirely first-drafted before the new year. It’s still doable, I think.

I’m going to share my first chapter with you all after the new year. (Eeek! I said it!) So I hope you’ll hold me to that

Oh sheesh, I think I have book #2 brewing in my head! Can I finish book #1 first, please? Take a number, ideas, get in line, single file, and no cutsies!

(I assure myself this time, book #1 will not be abandoned for book #2, no matter how it begs! I am too far emotionally invested in book #1, and it will be my firstborn! It will forever hold that place in my heart!)

But it’s helpful, I think, to see trends starting to take shape in the scope of my stories. I’m starting to notice some similarities, based on what book #1 is about, compared to what book #2 is about – life and death, marriage and relationships, trying not to become your parents…

I still don’t know if I’m writing YA or not. Upper YA maybe. Maybe not. The protags from novel #1 are 20 years old. But I’m thinking the protag for the second novel is going to be about 25.

There are also many strong women’s themes in my writing, so maybe chick lit? Whoa, crap, am I a chick lit writer??? But without the shoes, or publishing jobs in NYC? Is that allowed in chick lit? Midwestern quirky chick lit, with snow boots instead of stilettos? Come to think of it, my website is pink, lol!

I don’t know why I’m so dead-set on finding myself a niche to belong to. My very favorite authors – John Irving, Lorrie Moore, T.C. Boyle – don’t really seem to belong to any niche except just good, engrossing, quirky, literary fiction. Maybe that is a niche itself?

progress report for the week of 11/30:

I’m easing myself out of the turkey coma this week. I accomplished more plotty stuff than actual plumping of word counts (parts 2 and 3 are developing!), but I’ve enjoyed looking over what I have so far. I’ve found that the first part of the novel (chapters 1-7) is pretty much sketched, so now just to plump and polish and move forward. That’s exciting news, for me at least, because the plumping and polishing part is the easiest, for me. Once I have the bones down, and I know what’s happening and who’s saying what, and such, the flesh usually falls right into place (ha, bones and flesh, lol!).

Favorite line of the week, Danny and Hannah’s mom:

“Birds? Your father left you birds? I’m not surprised though. I didn’t know much about your father, and I was married to the man for twelve years.”

Hope everyone’s writing projects are going well!

I’m a sucker for a good love story, whether that be romantic or platonic love. I don’t consider myself a romance writer, but I do write a heck of a lot of stories about love, whatever form it might manifest itself in. (And I have a theory, that on a very basic level, all stories come back to love in some form.) They’re hard to write though, without dissolving into a syrupy mess.

It seems in the past weeks the world has been thinking and reflecting on the topic of love in writing, and I’ve been collecting a few of the links I’ve found.

First, an interview @ Maud Newton w/ Marlon James: about his novel, the Book of Night Women (which sounds fascinating, by the way!), and writing about love.

I remember calling friends shouting, “I just wrote a love scene! All they do is kiss!” to which they would respond, “. . . and are they then dismembered?” and I’d go, “No, after that they dance!” It was hard. I resisted it for as long as I could because I didn’t believe in it at first, and even when I did, I couldn’t figure out how to write it. Not until Irish novelist Colum McCann gave me permission by giving me the best writing advice I’ve ever gotten from a writer: Risk Sentimentality.

There’s a belief that sex is the hardest thing for a literary novelist but I disagree: love is. We’re so scared of descending into mush that I think we end up with a just-as-bad opposite, love stories devoid of any emotional quality. But love can work in so many ways without having to resort to that word. Someone once scared me by saying that love isn’t saying “I love you” but calling to say “did you eat?” (And then proceeded to ask me this for the next 6 months). My point being that, in this novel at least, relationships come not through words, but gestures like the overseer wanting to cuddle. Or rubbing his belly and hollering about her cooking, or teaching her how to dance or ride a horse — things reserved for white women…

…I think, as a writer, the important thing was to layer the relationship with complexity and contradiction. There were situations where I could have left certain storylines one-dimensional and gotten away with it. I think the relationship is gripping not because they love each other, or think they do (or not) but because even with such a horribly skewed dynamic, hearts do what they want. And people don’t always fit in the roles that have been assigned to them. But of course the relationship is doomed; any slavery love writes its end in its very beginning.

On a similar tangent, I certainly don’t consider myself an erotica writer either, but I can’t seem to write a story that doesn’t involve or at least elude to sex in some form.

Here, an article on how writing about sex in fiction is almost never really about the sex.

More on writing sex here, from Storytellers Unplugged.

And finally, a must-see movie – film, I guess, we call them films when they’re artsy and thoughtful Good Dick: I suck at writing reviews, and there are plenty of good ones on IMDB, but really, it’s a hilarious, twisted love-story, but at the same time surprisingly sweet. Emotionally taxing, but so worth it! Movie trailer here. (Oh, rated R and not for the kiddies though!) Enjoy!

So last week kind of fell into Thanksgiving and got dissolved, and then like a black hole, it sucked up Monday, and then Tuesday as well.

I didn’t work on my novel a single word last week. I’m okay with that though, little breaks can be efficient sometimes. And I just finished reading over everything I have, which is several segmented chapters, adding up to about 40-something pages so far. It’s beginning to resemble the first part of a novel. It’s shaping.

Last week’s questionable second-person short story got worked into third person after all, and I think I might be happy with it. Still poking at it – you know, turkey coma and all…

I tried to do a kick-ass yoga video last week, but the child vetoed that idea really fast. Yoga isn’t really so productive when he thinks downward-dog is like a bridge he can crawl under. Ah well… I walked 6.5 miles last week, which wasn’t a complete flop. We’re moving out of walking weather this time of year anyway, so I’ll take whatever I get. We might have a day or two this week.

(I hear you saying, “Dude, did you really just talk about your walking schedule in relation to the damn weather?” Yes, I did. Sorry about that.)

Yesterday marks the end of NaNoWriMo, so I hope everyone was productive with their novels last month, whatever stage of writing that might be. My official word count for the month was about 5000 words. Hey, no scoffing at my words! I’m pulling the “mommy of a crazy three year-old” card, and dammit, they were very good words!

Plan for December then… I’ve got 3 full weeks before Christmas madness sets in. I should at least be able to match the word count I wrote for November. I’d really like to get the first part (seven chapters) done in a solid way and get a couple readers for it after the new year, to make sure it’s going where I want it to go, make sure the characters are who I think they are, make sure it’s actually working ‘n stuff.