Comforting Clutter

Thought for the day: When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on. [Franklin Roosevelt]

We may not be at the end of our ropes, but we sure are approaching the end of the year at a breakneck speed. Before we know it, it'll be a brand new shiny year, and we can all make fresh starts. More or less.

At any rate, it's time for the last monthly gathering of the year for that fine group known as the Insecure Writer's Support Group. This, the first Wednesday of the month, is when writers all over the world post about the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the ins and outs... of writing. We celebrate... we complain... we commiserate. Whatever we need, this is the place to find it. Humble thanks and a jolly tip of the Santa hat go to Alex Cavanaugh, our fearless ninja leader and the originator of this fine group. If you'd like to join (It's FREE!) or would like to read some of the other posts, please go HERE

Years ago, when we went to our favorite Chinese restaurant, I got the coolest fortune ever in my cookie. So cool, in fact, that it's still pinned to the bulletin board here in my office. It says, You have a charming way with words and should write a book. 

SEE? Totally cool, right? If I opened a fortune cookie today, it would probably say something obnoxious about writer's block.

Not that I have it. Exactly. I just don't feel motivated to work on my WIP. My gut tells me not to let lousy sales figures and the dearth of reviews for book one of my trilogy stop me from forging ahead with books two and three... but my brain seems to have a different opinion. I'm still writing... in short spurts... but my brain seems to be sitting in the corner with its back to me. Pouting. But since I've never been one to hold a grudge, I'm hopeful my brain will get with the program and snap out of it soon. I am excited at where the story's going... I just have to get it there... in due time, I suppose.

Sigh. Enough belly-aching. I'm not feeling particularly insecure or blocked. Just lazy. (Well, you have heard of a Lazy Susan, haven't you...?)

Okay, let's move on to this month's question, shall we?









What are five objects we'd find in your writing space?

The major thing in here is my desk. It's a huge L-shaped beauty with lots of room for all of my organized chaos.

 Hmmm, I guess I should've tidied up a bit, but why put on the dog, right? (Besides, our cats wouldn't appreciate it.)

In the center of the L sits my computer. Surprisingly, there isn't a cat's derriere parked in front of it at the moment. To the right of the computer is my all-time favorite mug: Pink Freud. Nine times out of ten, if I'm working at the computer, that mug is right there beside me.

The equally messy left side of my desk contains a small bookshelf. There are a few very good reference books there... and also, just some very good books. There's a much larger bookshelf behind me... also filled to the brim with books.

The right side of the desk contains a bunch of CDs, the printer and... Dash. (She and Dot usually keep me company in here... and they are oh-so helpful.) So I guess you could say the cats are an integral part of any writing endeavor... or any other activity, for that matter. Like I said, they are extremely helpful.

See that print of Dali's Last Supper hanging on the wall? I bought it on a school field trip to the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. many years ago. Know what's totally cool about it? Smarticus was also on that same field trip, and out of allllll the art in the museum gift shop, he bought the same exact print. It was several years later before we realized we'd purchased the same piece. (See? We were meant to be!)

I'm not satisfied with only having one messy desk in my office... so I have two! This one was built by my paternal grandfather, so it's kinda special. The stack of stuff with the notebook and pen on top is where the magic happens. HA! (If only...) I carry the whole pile into the living room in the early morning, and write in that notebook until Smartacus gets out of bed. Also in the pile? A dictionary, thesaurus, The Emotion Thesaurus, and a bunch of notes and outlines in the yellow folder. That little stack of books in the back include several military manuals about munitions, booby traps and unconventional warfare. Don't worry. I'm not planning a coup. I used them while doing research for Explosive Beginnings.

I guess that covers my five things... desk, computer, Pink Freud, books, and cats, but I'm going to highlight one of the things on my big desk. The picture on the bottom. The fella in the foreground is Smartacus, and the picture was taken when he was in Vietnam. Keeping that picture where I can readily see it every day is one way to remind myself to never take him for granted.


Well, folks, I don't want to take you guys for granted, either. I've taken up more than enough of your time.

So until next time, please take care of yourselves. And each other.

The Write Stuff

Thought for the day: I wrote a book about reverse psychology. Please don't buy it!

As you can probably tell by that tattletale badge on the left, it's once again time for the monthly IWSG post, and as always, many thanks go to our fearless leader, Alex Cavanaugh, for founding this fine group, and to all the other nurturing guys and gals who've helped turn it into the thriving community it is today. To join this super supportive group of writers and to see links to other participating blogs, please go HERE

Now then, what's happening with me, writing-wise? I'm working hard (or hardly working... you pick) on book two of my trilogy. Sales have been pretty lackluster for book one so far, so I must confess to having some doubts as to whether or not it's worth it to keep going. Then again... I can't help myself, dammit. I'm afflicted with this cursed writing disease, and it will NOT give me any peace until I finish telling my story. (sigh) So write I will.

I tried something different with Explosive Beginnings. I gave away 100 e-book copies through a Goodreads giveaway promotion before the book was released, because I figured that'd be a good way to get some reviews, which in turn, would be a good way to generate some word-of-mouth buzz. Right? Sound good?

HA!

Again, I say... HA!

To date, as a result of that giveaway, I've received ONE review and TWO ratings from people who won a copy of my book.

PBBBBT! I haven't entirely given up hope on receiving more giveaway-generated reviews yet, but I thought I'd share my dismal results with you, in case some of you might be considering a big e-book giveaway for one of your books. (Then again, it could work out great for you... maybe it's just ME.)

You and I know that just because something is FREE doesn't mean it's worthless, but now I'm kinda wondering what kind of message we writers send when we spend our money so we can give our books away for FREE...?

Maybe if we could figure out a way to give away free WiFi with our books?












Okay, let's move on to this month's question, shall we?

What's harder for you to come up with, book titles or character names?

Hmmm, interesting question. Maybe I'll give you a clue to my response by telling you my favorite childhood riddle. Ready...?

                                                   What would you rather have chase you...

[image: morguefile]

                               An elephant...

[image: morguefile]

              or a gorilla?








Give up? The answer: I'd rather have the elephant chase the gorilla. (Yeah, okay. I'll admit it. I was a weird kid.)

But the point is, it's the same with this month's question.My answer lies beyond the parameters set by the question. I love coming up with titles and character names, so to me, that part is fun... and easy. The hard part is making those characters come alive and giving that title some significance.

                                       So in answer to this month's question, I'd have to say...

                                                                       NEITHER!

Didn't like my first riddle? Okay, here's another one: What's the difference between a hippo and a zippo? Ready for it? Simple... one is heavy and the other is... a little lighter.

One last thing. May I have a drum roll, please? It's time to announce the winner of an autographed copy of Explosive Beginnings. That winner is (ta-DA!) the lovely JOANNE FARIES. Congratulations, kiddo! Please send me an email with your snail mail address. (If you forgot my email address, that email me badge on the right hand side of my blog works just dandy.)

                                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

A Mother's Love

Thought for the day:  I want my children to have all the things I couldn't afford. Then I want to move in with them.  [Phyllis Diller]

Giving birth is easy. It's like pulling a watermelon out of your nose.

This coming Sunday is Mother's Day, so what better time to write about mothers, right?

A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never cared for pie.  [Tenneva Jordan]


Having a child changes a woman forever, and I'm not just talking about the decorative stretch marks, bulging hemorrhoids, or the tendency to tinkle a little every time she laughs too hard. No, it goes much deeper than the physical changes. After expelling miniature human beings from their bodies, women who could once sleep through a sonic boom suddenly wake up on full alert every time their babies roll over or make the tiniest sound, and women who used to be walking fashion plates suddenly have no problem wearing wrinkled clothing stained with spit-up. And holy moley, their capacity to love expands even more than their waistlines did. (Good thing, too... if it didn't, no woman would ever have more than one child!)

And, oh, how we turn to jelly at the sight of those tiny baby clothes and... those feet! Nothing is quite as sweet  and kissable as those tiny little baby feet.

There is an instinct in a woman to love most her own child— and an instinct to make any child who needs love, her own. [Robert Brault]

Then, practically overnight, babies become teenagers, and before we know it, the little boy who was afraid of the dark now wants to stay out half the night with his friends. The princess who didn't take her first step until she was almost a year old now wants to borrow the car. No matter their age, they will always be the children of their mother's heart, but more and more, they also become children of the world.

The best way to keep children at home is to make the home atmosphere pleasant — and let the air out of the tires.  [Dorothy Parker]

The truth is, no matter how big our babies' feet get to be, they still belong to our babies. Doesn't matter if those feet belong to a teacher, a doctor, or are ensconced in a pair of combat boots. Babies, one and all. Even when they have babies of their own.

Grown don't mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What's that supposed to mean? In my heart, it don't mean a thing. [Toni Morrison- Beloved]

Of all the things I've ever read about mothers, I think Erma Bombeck said it the absolute best in her essay, When God Created Mothers, in which God is attempting to meet some very daunting specifications to create the perfect mom. After struggling to get her right, an angel points out that the model has a leak. God replies that it's a tear, and when the angel wants to know what it's for, God says:

"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride."

"You are a genius, " said the angel.

Somberly, God said, "I didn't put it there.”

****

Now here's another of Erma's wonderful insights about motherhood:

Just as our mothers always look at us as their children, as we grow older, a certain part of us wants to hang onto them, too. We don't want things to change. We want them to always be there, our home plate in the game of life, our constant refuge. We don't want them to grow old; we don't want them to get sick, and God knows, we don't want them to die. But even after they do, they live on forever in our hearts.

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.  [Honore de Balzac]

Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall; a mother's secret love outlives them all. [Oliver Wendell Holmes]

To all of you mothers, I wish you a wonderful Mother's Day. To all of you whose mothers are still with you, cherish them, not just on Mother's Day, but every day of the year. To those of you experiencing that heart-wrenching role reversal—  taking care of your mothers, essentially mothering your mothers, as they once took care of you, with them depending on you as you once depended on them— bless you. I know how hard it is. For those of you who have already lost your mothers, I know you'll be thinking of them. And as long as our mothers live in our hearts, they're never entirely gone.

Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world, a mother's love is not. [James Joyce]


                             Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

During the month of May, every comment you leave here will earn you a shot at winning a FREE autographed copy of Explosive Beginnings.  Pssst! Wanta up your chances? All ya have to do is mention my book on your blog, and it'll earn you another two chances. 

(If you're on Goodreads, I'd sure appreciate it if you tagged my book as one you'd like to read.)

[Images from morguefile.]

Springing into Action... Very Slowly

Thought for the day: We cannot all do great things in life, but we can all do small things with great love. [Mother Teresa]

Wow, it's hard to believe April's kaput already, isn't it? I thoroughly enjoyed my month-long break from blogging, but I must confess, I didn't exactly accomplish any great things while I was away. It's a good thing the small things matter, too, huh? In addition to the pain-in-the-butt spring cleaning stuff, I did lots of reading, enjoyed a fantabulous visit from a long-time friend, and finished off the month with a visit to our pals in Tennessee.

On second thought, maybe the month was pretty doggone great. Alas, I didn't do any writing, which I've always done during my April breaks in the past, but I did some  very productive research, so I suppose that counts for something. Hopefully, I'm ready to spring into writing action now.

As for doing all that nitty gritty housecleaning? The cruel irony of housework: people only notice it when you don't do it. [Danielle Raine] Ain't that the truth?

 Here's a pic of my friend Caryl and me taken during her visit. Ever since we met in second grade, we were the best of friends for many many years... and then somehow, many more years slipped away while we kept in touch sporadically via email, Facebook, and telephone. This was the first time we saw each other face-to-face in more than forty years, and it was as though we'd never been apart. Smarticus was a real peach, too. He let us sit in the back seat (so we could yak more easily,) while he sat up front... driving Miss Daisies. Caryl and I vowed not to let that many years slip past us again. (Not that there's a snowball's chance in Hades that we could...) Friends are people who know the song in your heart and  can sing it back to you when you forget the words. [author unknown]

Explosive Beginnings officially launched two days ago, and it's off to a pretty good start, so I have no complaints there. I'd better get my arse in gear with Clinging to Hope, though, because some of the people who won early copies through Goodreads are already bugging me about when Book Two is gonna be released. No rest for the weary. Time to ignore the pretty weather and give my muse a swift kick in the keister.

As you can probably tell, this is the monthly IWSG post, and as always, many thanks go to our fearless leader, Alex Cavanaugh, for founding this fine group, and to all the other nurturing guys and gals who've helped turn it into the thriving community it is today. To join this super supportive group of writers and to see links to other participating blogs, please go HERE

In light of how I spent my April (cough!cough!) writing time, this month's question is rather appropriate:

It's spring! Does this season inspire you to write more than others, or not? 

Um... NOT! Unfortunately. Not this year, anyway. During the long dreary drab days of winter, it's much easier to snuggle down in the house with a pen and notebook than it is when the colors and scents (achoo!) of spring are calling to me from right outside the window. All I can say is it's a good thing I don't live at the beach. I'd never write anything. Ever.

How about you? Are you more productive this time of year, or does the beauty of the season hijack your attention? (And to those of you who still haven't escaped winter's clutches, I apologize. Take heart. Winter can't possibly last forever.)

                                      Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.