The Fun of Research

Thought for the day: Escaping into a world of our making is one of the best things about writing.

Yep. It's that time again.Time for our monthly IWSG posts. As always, thanks to our fearless leader, Alex Cavanaugh, for founding this fine group, and thanks to all the other nurturing guys and gals who've helped turn it into the thriving community it is today. I'm telling ya, this group offers better support and lift than the world's most expensive bra. (No underwires, either!) To join this super supportive group of writers and to see links to other participating blogs, please go HERE

As to be expected, no writing this past month, either. For the foreseeable future, getting my husband healthy again is my top priority. Today is his 16th day of radiation and chemo, and so far, so good.

Not much time to spare these days, so I'll get right to this month's question: What's the strangest thing you've ever googled in researching a story?

[image courtesy of shutterstock]

The strangest, huh? I can't say that narrows it down a heckuva lot, because I've done some mighty interesting searches, and to me, it's all fun. But if I had to pick just one topic... it'd probably be the research I did on explosives. Homemade explosives. To tell the truth, it was a little scary just how much information I was able to find. Anarchist kinda stuff. (Who knew?) Smarticus teased me about it a little bit, and said NSA or some other alphabet soup government agency was probably watching, but he offered plenty of assurances, too. He said if someone from the government came to the front door looking for me, he'd handle it for me. Yes sirree, he'd direct them right down the hallway to my office...

Not that I reeeeeally thought anyone was following my interesting online searches, but I ended up finishing the rest of my explosive research via some U.S. Army handbooks. (Who knew?) I read about more kinds of explosives, booby traps, delayed time detonations, etc. than you can imagine. Funny thing is, I used very little of it in my book Explosive Beginnings. But for me, the research... no matter what the topic... is always a fascinating pursuit. I figure, it's best to gather much more info than I need and then use a minimum of it, as needed, to properly tell the story. (I mean, you guys didn't reeeeally want to know how to use a light bulb as a booby trap, did ya...?)

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

Down the Rabbit Hole

Thought for the day: Time's fun when you're having flies.  Kermit the Frog

TICK. TICK. TICK. TICK.           

Is it my imagination, or is that clock getting louder by the moment? And that second hand... it's moving faster, isn't it? Yes, yes, look at it! See? It's whirling like a fan! Feel the breeze?

I swear, I just sat down at my computer  a few minutes ago, and now that big fat lying clock dares to insinuate that three hours have flown past. I ask you, What nefarious plot is afoot?

Alas, and alack, it is I. I've done it to myself. (again)

I read an anonymous quote somewhere that said Writing is 2% talent, and 98% being able to resist the distraction of the Internet. Well, ain't that the truth?! At least, it is for me. (sigh) I sure didn't offer up a lick of resistance today. There are just too darned many rabbit holes calling my name.

But the thing is, I fully intended to whip out a quick blog post, (Well, as quick as I can, which ain't very...)  so I could work on my book, and now, in the snap of a finger, POOF! three hours... gone forever.

My mother used to warn me about "good intentions." She said they're the paving stones on

(Not that agreed with her, but I sure would love to hear her say it again, just one more time.)

Oh well. Since my brain is currently comprised of mush, rather than regale you with some deep philosophical post,  (HA! As if.) how about if I share some of the funny signs I've come across?

In the seventies and eighties, this sign used to be posted on the street right in front of our house. We all KNEW what it was supposed to mean, but our three kids still took a lot of ribbing over it.











Here are some other signs that cracked me up. Hope you get a kick out of them, too.

• On a septic tank:   We're #1 in the #2 business.  
• Over a gynecologist's office:   Dr. Jones, at your cervix.     
• At a proctologist's door:   To expedite your visit, please back in.
• On a plumber's truck:   We repair what your husband fixed.
• On another plumber's truck:   Don't sleep with a drip. Call your plumber.
• On an electrician's truck:  Let us remove your shorts.
• On a dry cleaner's window:   Grime doesn't pay.
• On a maternity room door:   Push. Push. Push.
• On a taxidermist's window:  We know our stuff.    
• On a music shop window:   Gone Chopin. Be Bach in a minuet.
• Outside a muffler shop:   No appointment necessary. We hear you coming.
• In front of a funeral parlor:   Drive carefully. We'll wait.
• At a propane filling station:   Tank heaven for little grills.  
• In a Norwegian cocktail lounge:  Ladies are requested not to have children in the bar.
• Hotel air condition instructions, Japan:  If you want condition of warm air in your room, please control yourself.  
• At a Hungarian zoo:  Please do not feed the animals. If you have any suitable food, give it to the guard on duty.
• Men's restroom, Japan:  To stop leak, turn cock to the right.
• Car rental brochure, Tokyo:  When passenger of foot heave in sight, tootle the horn. Trumpet him melodiously at first, but if he still obstacles your passage, then tootle him with vigour.
• At a restaurant, Nairobi: Customers who find our waitresses rude ought to see the manager.
• At a hotel, Acapulco:  The manager has personally passed all the water served here.
• Hotel room, Japan: Guests are requested not to smoke or do other disgusting behaviors in bed.
• Surgical facility, Rome: Specialist in women and other diseases.                                                                                                                                   

                                                          OK, enough for now. I'll

So, how about you? Do you sometimes let that crafty Internet (or something else) get between you and your writing? Or you and your housework, or yardwork, whatever? (MUCH more forgivable!) Is procrastination your middle name? Oh, do tell, and if you've learned how to discipline your time spent online, how'd you do it? What's your big secret?

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

Coming in for a Landing

Thought for the day: The bad news is time flies. The good news is you're the pilot. [Michael Altshuler]

[image courtesy of morguefile]

Watch out! This ol' gal is fixing to land...

Yeah, I know how trite it is to say that time flies, and no writer wants to be accused of being trite, right? But what can I say? Time really DOES... um... you know. I was just starting to settle all nice and cozy into my month-long break from blogging and... poof!... it's over.

So here we are at the beginning of a brand new month, which means it's also time for another IWSG post.

Happy May, everybody! For those of you who participated in April's A-Z challenge, I hope it was both an enjoyable and a successful one for you. For all the rest of you, I hope it was a terrific month for you, too.

[image courtesy of perfectlytimedphotos]

All is well here. I'm nearly finished with the first draft of my WIP and am enjoying what I like to call the jet-assist period. If you think about it, writing a book is a lot like making a long solo flight to the destination of our dreams. When we start out, enthusiasm and excitement about the wondrous place we're going provide plenty of impetus, but as the journey continues to go on and on and on, the seemingly endless flight becomes more of a slog, and all we want to do is land already. When that initial jet-assist poops out, we're left huffing, puffing, and flapping our wings like crazy just to keep from crashing. Then the end's finally in sight, and we're miraculously infused with a second wind, and the original jet-assist excitement is back again in all its glory. We're almost there! Ain't it grand?

Another thing that's grand is this Insecure Writer's Support Group. The brain child of Alex Cavanaugh, this group provides support, solace, and yes... jet-support impetus... to all writers of all kinds. If you'd like to join, or are interested in following links to other participants for this month's post, please go HERE

Now then. Let's move on to this month's question: What is the weirdest/coolest thing you ever had to research for your story?

Weirdest? Coolest? I dunno. I don't think anything's too weird, and research is all cool. However, for the book I'm nearly finished, I did a bunch of research on homemade explosives... how to make them, where to get the ingredients, and all of that good stuff. Really interesting. (My dear oh-so-helpful Smarticus informed me that if someone from NSA comes knocking at our door, he'll promptly direct them to my office.) I'm not sure if perusing posts written by anarchists qualifies as weird or cool, but some of the research I did for Book Two of my trilogy definitely pegged the cool-o-meter for me. I wanted to find out if Maryland had a reform school for girls in the late '50s and early '60s. Not only did I find such a place... and in the perfect location for the purposes of my story... but I found a Yahoo group comprised of women who were IN that reform school during those years! Talk about a treasure trove of information. GOLD MINE! I don't know if all writers enjoy the research side of things as much as I do, but to me, the research is a joy in itself, and ya know, I'm just about convinced that the Internet can answer just about ANY question. (Whether or not the answer is correct may be a different story... ) What's the neatest treasure trove of information YOU ever discovered?

It's good to be back, y'all. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Oopsie Moments Gone Bad

Thought for the day:  Of all the things you wear, your expression is the most important. [Janet Lane]

[reddit]

 Have you ever done something so bone-headed, you would've liked to hide your head in a bag for a while? Or to crawl in a hole and lie low until things blew over?

Nowadays, that's easier said than done. Now that every Tom, Dick, and Mary seem to carry a phone capable of taking photos, and then they immediately post said pics on the Internet for all the world to see, doing something idiotic has never been more open to public scrutiny.

When out on a group date many years ago... in the good old days... after we all gorged ourselves on pizza, I was trying to be as fast as possible in the rest room, because I didn't want to keep everyone waiting. In my haste, I obviously didn't pull my red-and-white striped petti-pants (WITH a spiffy white fringe!) all the way up, because as we were walking to our cars, they, um... fell down! (Leading my date to refer to me as Droopy Drawers for some months afterwards.) It was hilariously embarrassing, but the other giggling gals very kindly shielded me from view while I yanked them back up again. Nowadays, something like that would have (shudder) been immortalized on the Internet forever. One moment of embarrassments turned into a lifetime's embarrassment... UGH!

Anyhow, what follows is a post that originally appeared on March 29, 2011 with the title Under the Looking Glass? It didn't get many visitors back then, so it will be new to almost all of you.

****************************

Thought for the day: No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.

Ever have one of those great big oopsie moments? You know, where you do something unbelievably stupid and just pray nobody's watching? Or if they are, you hope they have a really crappy memory?

One of my stupid moments was caught under a brilliant spotlight. Lucky me, huh?

I was a senior in high school at the time, and was selected by my drama teacher to perform a scene from  Tea and Sympathy for a big PTSA open house. Now, I was a bit of a nerd, meaning I was all about the academics, and drama was an elective course for me. I enjoyed it, and was okay at it, but Meryl Streep I wasn't. Still, I was pretty excited at the idea of showing my stuff.

Unfortunately, my friend and fellow nerd Robby, who happened to be manning the spotlight, was also interested in showing my stuff...

In the scene, I was an "older woman" who was about to (ahem) get up-close and personal, shall we say, with a younger man. My closing line was, Years from now... when you talk about this... and you will... be kind. While delivering the line, I was also slowly unbuttoning my blouse. And oh man, I really nailed that line, if I must say so myself. That line was supposed to be the cue for my smart-ass buddy to fade the spotlight to darkness.

It would've been oh-so-dramatic.

Was supposed to be dramatic, damn it.

My "buddy" thought it'd be great fun to leave the light on to see what I would do. Oh yeah, it was hysterical.

So what did I, the academic nerd, do? I looked straight at the spotlight and snarled, "LIGHTS!"

Kinda spoiled the effect, ya know? (But he DID douse the light.)

OK, you got me. This isn't me, but it's pretty much how I FELT, only with a little more hair ...

Anyhow, what made me think about all this was the incredible train wreck I observed on the internet yesterday. A self-published writer from England committed an enormous oopsie. She had what amounted to an emotional melt-down over a review of her book. The funny thing was, the review wasn't even all that bad. The reviewer said that her story was quite good, actually, but because of the plentiful spelling and grammatical errors, he gave her a two-star rating. That should've been the end of it. But it wasn't. Her subsequent postings, which by the way, were chock full of misspellings, grammatical errors, and tortuously convoluted syntax, were laced with profanities. Dropped the f-bomb a couple times. Snarled at anyone and everyone who tried to soothe her anger or offer guidance. Insisted that there was nothing wrong with her writing, although, clearly, there was. All of this, mind you, on a website frequented by other writers, agents, and publishers. More and more people joined the fray, as news of the "happening" spread through Twitter and other websites.

She single-handedly put herself in the spotlight, and then committed professional suicide. It's a shame, really, but I suppose she could always ... change her name.

But the bottom line here is: remember, on the internet, you're more than in a spotlight.

                                                You're under the looking glass.

And it doesn't matter if the people watching you screw up have a crappy memory, either. Once it's on the internet, it STAYS on the internet... providing a potential eternity of shame. Thank God YouTube wasn't around when I was a teenager. For that, I am eternally grateful. (I'll bet YOU are, too!)

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