Not Tweetworthy (the first in an occasional series)

I constantly think thoughts. Obvious, right? It's kinda hard not to. I am not unique.

Some of those thoughts send my fingers dashing toward Twitter to inform the world of my quirky insight, my spot of humor, or my share-worthy pain. But what happens when a random thought just doesn't translate into a well-crafted tweet? Until yesterday, I was stumped.

I had some mildly interesting things to say, but no place to say them. The next best thing to sharing them with the world, in my mind, was to at least write them down for myself. In retrospect, it's been a strange and eye-opening experiment. I'd like to share my random un-tweet-worthy thoughts with y'all. I also plan to continue my experiment, and will share my results on occasion. Likely that means I'll be sharing them when I don't have anything else to blog about for more than a few days in a row.

Enjoy the crumbs of my overactive imagination!

Carl Approves This Message.

• Why are the Thompson Twins three people?
• I bet there is a fireplace app for cell phones that fills the screen with tiny flames. It might be more effective to just set the phone on fire.
   
• I was in the mood for cheese, but the only cheese in the house was either unnaturally orange squares or unnaturally orange glop. I went with the glop, because CORN CHIPS.
   
• Eva Longoria called me today. It was a recording for a state ballot question. But now I can say that Eva Longoria called me today, and not be lying about it.
   
• The thing about NCIS that bothers me the most is that their coffee cups are always empty. You can tell because they SOUND empty when they put them down, yet they keep pretending to drink. At least put some water in there. Something!
   
• How the hell did Wang Chung get stuck in my head?
   
• You know it's getting bad when you stop muting the political ads and start heckling them, and not in your "inside voice."
   
• Addendum to the above: The name of my next band is Reckless Agenda.
   
• WHY do I keep getting robo calls that begin, "If you are a senior citizen..."? I SWEAR I AM 38 DAMN YEARS OLD! I do not need whatever the hell you are selling!
   
• I think I've developed an ellipsis problem...

OH! And I actually have Progress to report on the Progress-o-Meter! Yes! Despite using my brain to think up the dubious brilliance above, I still had time to write a bunch of new words! Woo hoo! And I'm headed back to the WIP right now, so...Look out crazy bad guys, my MC's are hot on your tails.

Words: 58,072
Pages: 181

Getting ahead of myself again.

Oh, dear. I'm always getting ahead of myself.

First, I started writing a second series of novels before I'd finished the first. To be fair, that might not be getting ahead of myself. That's more like realizing I was running in the wrong direction. I turned around, and started a different series. The first series is now lying abandoned in an empty field somewhere. I'll go back and find it someday. Maybe It will be a glorious reunion filled with straining violins and weepy tears of joy. Or maybe it will provide hours of laughter. Either way, I will win.

Second, and more to the point of this post, I keep thinking of things I want to do in real life that tie in to my current WIP. Sure, if I ever find an agent and Thalia and company are published, I'm sure this is the sort of thing I would have to dive in to eventually. Right now, though? Why am I spending time and money on promotional tie-ins NOW? I think it's some sort of brain fever. Marketingitis.

What sort of fun and enticing promotions, you might ask? You might ask, but I'm not telling. Since I haven't actually gone through with any of them yet. I will, though, and then you will be like:



So there. I'm not getting TOO far ahead of myself. Yet.

In other writerly news, I am happily caught up with edits/refreshing my memory on the WIP. I am also making NEW WORDS! :D

Progress-O-Meter:

Words: 56,848
Pages: 177

So, not a LOT of new words yet, but it's been a busy few days around here (hence the dearth of new bloggity).

I am finally getting properly camp trained by the Girl Scouts. I know all this stuff already, but to be all legal and official, I have to go through the course. It was 6 hours of classwork on Sunday, and two days of actual camping in November. *let that sink in* November. Hopefully we'll have a mini-heat-wave that weekend.

Based on the class, I've decided to upgrade some of my old camping equipment. As a result, I went on a camping geek shopping spree the other day. The UPS guy will be delivering Camp Nirvana to my house today. It's kind of sad how excited I am about having a radio/flashlight/cell phone charger that runs on solar AND crank power. *stops and spends five minutes kermit-flailing* See? Sad.

So, what has you all kermit-flaily today? Had a great idea for a WIP? A banner day? Or did you just order some KILLER new camping supplies? Share your joy with me, but just don't get too far ahead of yourselves.

Errands to run, words to make, and coffee to drink.

A Banner Day

Yes, so much has happened today, I feel I must recount the fabulosity.

First of all, I finally got a car wash. It only took two months after I was named "Dirtiest Car in the Lot" at a baseball game and won free car wash coupons. Little Red is all shiny and pretty again. The guys with the soap mops were impressed with the amount of dirt that could accumulate on a well-loved pick-up truck. I almost didn't recognize it now that it's clean. Good thing it's overcast today, because I would have needed sunglasses to look at it otherwise.

Just before the soap-mop guys started laughing at the quantity of dirt on my truck.

Second of all, Lulu went to a Girl Scout program about money management. My proudest moment was when she already knew how to balance a check book, and could explain how credit cards work. She won prizes for her superior financial knowledge. Huzzah!

So while she was learning about the importance of saving and budgeting, I was over at Office Depot doing the opposite. I finally replaced my wonky computer mouse. I feel like I've taken a technological leap backwards, because I've had cordless mice for eons, but I didn't want to pay $20 more for the identical mouse without a cord. So now I'm tethered again. We'll see if it would have been worth the extra money after I knock this one to the floor a few times and trip over the cord, potentially breaking my neck. Or possibly the laptop. Maybe I didn't think this through...

Finally, we made it to Starbucks at Lulu's request. The only kind of coffee she likes is the pumpkin spice latte, or as she now calls it, Ermehgerd, Permpkern Sperce Lerte! For the first time, I tried the salted caramel. I have heard people raving about salted caramel for months now, but I've been hesitant to try it. Now all I have to ask is, WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? Salted caramel is officially my new favorite thing.

While we enjoyed our beverages, we perused all the pretty new cell phones. Our contract is up soon, and Lulu and I are already debating what kind we should get. Helper Monkey will use whatever phone we get him, so he leaves it up to us to make the decision. At least we have a few months to hash out our philosophical technological differences before we have to commit.

Also, still making progress on the revision/rewrite/WIP. Friday Night Write Club has helped this week. If you're on the tweeties, follow @FriNightWrites and the hash tag #WriteClub for support, encouragement, and camaraderie. Go on, I'll wait while you click over and follow them.

Without further ado, here's the Progress-o-Meter:

Words: 55,503
Pages: 173
Edit Page: 128 (Chapter 11!!!)

And now, I'm debating watching Iron Man 2 or going back to work. Ah, heck, it's Saturday. I'm going to have some fun. Work it is! :D

Voodoo as a Legitimate Response to Querying

I haven't written here in a while. At least it feels that way. I've been sucked under by my glamorous whirlwind of a life. At least I've been making time for writing.

So today I spent the morning helping the Girl Scouts unload and deliver a mega-crapton of  mums and pansies. When you're the lady who owns a monster truck, you get picked to help out with delivery-ish things.

A small portion (very small) of the mega-crapton of flowers.

At least all the flowers made me feel all autumny. I love this time of year. In fact, the only thing Lulu wants to do this weekend is go out for a pumpkin spice latte. I can't argue with that.

On the way home from flower duty, I saw something odd in the road. It was a black rat snake sunning itself on the pavement, coiled up and taking bites at cars as they carefully drove around it. I slammed on my brakes, parked, and fetched a stick out of the roadside ditch. I went over, Steve Irwin style, and moved the little (hah, like 6' long) snakey from the road. A lady pulled up behind me and put her hazard lights on, blocking the road so I wouldn't get squished by speeding rednecks. Hopefully the snake had the common sense to stay out of traffic. I'm now all nervous about driving that way again and seeing him smeared all over the street.

For those who don't know, I live in a rural area. Most of the roads are narrow country lanes between fields dotted with cows and corn, soybeans and goats. My entire neighborhood is one lane roads on steep hills and sharp curves. This still doesn't stop some people from driving forty miles an hour, or a lot faster out on the wide and spacious country lanes where I found snakey.

Anyway, I've also been battling technology for the last few days. I've dropped my phone twice today, once the second I got out of bed, and again at the post office. I've suffered two power outages that lasted just long enough to reset everything in the house and reboot my computer. Let this stand as your BACK UP YOUR WRITING reminder for the day.

And finally, the reason I was at the post office. After a conversation with my CP, the fabulous @FeakySnucker, I decided I needed to make an Agent Love Voodoo Doll.  I mailed the prototype to her. The idea is that when you're waiting for a response on a full manuscript submission, you pin the novel's title to the doll in a heart, causing the agent in question to fall deeply in love with it and take you on as a client. The logic might be shaky, but it's based on centuries of Voodoo tradition. And if you're rejected, you can just stick pins through the doll's naughty bits. If I actually gave the doll any naughty bits.

Keep in mind that this is a rudimentary prototype. Next time I make one, I promise to use pins, and draw a better pattern. This one took all of five minutes to make, which is why his arms and legs are so wonky:

Mutant Agent Love Voodoo Doll

Have y'all ever resorted to anything this drastic? Would anyone else be interested in an Agent Love Voodoo Doll? Would it help if I swore to make sure its head turned out round instead of pointy? Do you think I need to spend less time on social media dreaming up this sort of lunacy?

Oh, and the Progress-o-Meter

Words: 55,373
Pages:172
Edit Page: 98

Truly Sad Panda

Here in the DC suburbs, news of a panda birth at the National Zoo has been everywhere for the last week. We've all been on the edge of our seats for a month as Panda Watch 2012 played out. When a baby was born last Sunday, it was thrilling. This morning, the eagerly anticipated little panda died. It just breaks my heart.

Mei Xiang, the panda mom, must be heartbroken. That's what alerted zookeepers that there was something wrong, they heard Mei's alarmed cries. She's such a good mom, and after watching her care for the baby all week, it tears me up that she's lost her cub.

I'm sorry to share all this sadness with y'all, but it's put the emergency brakes on my writing. I absolutely can't write the novel I'm working on right now. I need something to cheer myself up. I will gratefully accept links to good news today. Happy things. If you have such things, please share.

I do have a Progress-O-Meter update, since it's been a few days since I wrote one up. Don't be too judgy at my slow progress. I took a break yesterday to read The Enchantress, which has been sitting unread on my desk for months. I supposed that qualifies as good news. I loved the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series.

So that's it. I'm trying to snap myself out of the sad panda induced doldrums. I think I'm going to resort to ice cream. Hopefully that will help.

Progress-O-Meter:

Words: 55,007
Pages: 171
Edit Page: 61

A Puff Piece for Entertainment Purposes

Subtitled: Two essays because Twitter just won't suffice sometimes. Read one, read both, just enjoy a peek into my sophisticated and glamour-filled life.

Essay 1: Squirrel Wars

I was lucky enough to step outside in time to watch two squirrels dueling it out over a hollow spot in our half-dead oak tree. I couldn't tell there were two squirrels at first, since they were both trying to cram themselves into a little nook. I watched them duke it out for like ten minutes.

They periodically stopped bickering in order to give me the Squirrel Stare of Doom. I captured a few choice shots.

That lady's staring at us.

She's still there. I gotta plan.

We'll fight over the equally tiny, nearly identical nook ten feet higher up the tree!

 They were still at it when I just checked on them. Squirrels. Highly entertaining.


Essay 2: My Adventures With Hair Dye.

Every once in a while, I get the bright idea to completely change my hair color. Sometimes it goes white, sometimes pink, purple, red, blue, etc. Lately, it's been black/blue. This requires a lot of maintenance on my strawberry blonde-ish hair. Today was maintenance day.

It all started out innocently enough. I remembered to take off my t-shirt so I wouldn't have to pull it over a head covered with hair dye when it was time to rinse it out. I also remembered to get my black robe, which shrugs off black hair dye for obvious reasons. Everything was set and ready to go.

It was all going so well, and then the squirty bottle decided to rebel. Next thing I knew, everything within ten feet of me was spattered with black/blue dye, including parts of myself that I didn't want to be bluish-black. Like my entire right ear. And my shoulder, right arm, parts of my back, half my face, the sink, the wastebasket, the toilet seat, and the floor. My white shower curtain was miraculously spared, but everything else is disasterized.

I scrubbed most of the dye off my ear, face, shoulder, arm, and back, but everything else is speckled blue/gray. This made me grumpy. I finished with the dye, cleaned up, and huffed off to the living room to wait. That's where the real trouble began.

I got caught up playing a game with Lulu, and didn't realize how quickly time was passing. Next thing I knew, more than double the length of time I was supposed to wait before rinsing had passed. I feel like a ding-dong, but I don't think I did any permanent harm. It just worries me when the packaging has warnings to the effect that sealing the mixed dye in the container could cause it to explode. I kept waiting for my hair to explode while I ran to the bathroom to rinse.

Everything turned out for the best. Other than the fact that I am now convinced it is impossible to take a remotely decent picture of myself. Please, don't be frightened. I don't bite.

Trust me, this is the least frightening photo of the lot. I am apparently quite distressing to gaze upon.

Progress-O-Meter update: It's been a hectic couple of days. Between the pitch madness #PitMad on Thursday, and all the GUTGAA craziness yesterday, as well as girl scout meetings and errands last night, I've been a little distracted. Not to mention the fact that I was awakened by a mild earthquake at ten to six this morning. It's been slow going in the editing department. Tomorrow will not improve. I'm going to the Maryland Renaissance Festival, so I'll be gone most of the day. I'll tweet anything interesting while we're there. It's my only chance to watch our official state sport: Jousting. I kid you not.

Words: 54,829
Pages: 171
Edit Page: 26

Okay, everyone. I want your best anecdotes today. I need some cheering up after the week we've had. What's the most entertaining thing that's happened to you today?

(Insert Hysterical Yet Thoughtful Title Here)

Don't you hate it when you think up the absolute perfect premise for a blog post, you laugh, you think of a way to tie it in to something relevant to your own life at that moment, you laugh again because it is STILL funny after ten minutes, and then you fall asleep? Yeah, me too.

I used to keep a notepad by my bed so I could write things like that down. I moved it, uh, somewhere. Don't remember where. I probably took it to the office to transcribe past notes, and then never returned it. It doesn't really do me a lot of good if it's not there to make notes in. Once again, my brain failed me.

I was just too lazy and tired to get up and find writing materials to make a quick note of the fantastic blog post idea. I wouldn't forget something that funny, would I? Of course not!

Unfortunately, all I remember of the Perfect Blog Entry idea is that it once existed. Every detail has been permanently wiped from my brain. Unless someone out there knows hypnosis, which I would be open to trying. Ugh.

So there you have it. The Perfect Blog Post that should have lived in this space has been replaced by a Writerly Warning. Here goes:

When you think of something great, for glob's sake, WRITE IT DOWN IMMEDIATELY! You will suffer brain failure eventually. You may point to me as the example.

Oh, dear, look at that poor woman over there, suffering from Writerly Brain Failure.

It's not polite to point, dear.

I know, but...she's suffering. Isn't there something we can do for her?

It's her own fault. Should have written it down.

So there you have it.

Giant Brain Eraser wants to eat your good ideas

In better news today, I got a lot of editing/writing done last night. I say Editing SLASH Writing because brain failure struck again. I had to put down the WIP several months ago to work on revising two other books, which turned out to be cannibalistic. They ate their little book-mate right out of my brain! I had to go back to the beginning and rewrite some things that had to change because of changes made to the first two books, and also to remember the details I'd already written. Without further ado, it's time for the triumphant return of the:

PROGRESS-O-METER for BLACK SHEEP! *confetti cannon* *flailyhands* (I really need to make a widget for this)

Words: 54,970

Pages: 171

Edit Page: 19

Explanation for those new to this concept: Words is the total word count, Pages is the total page count, and Edit Page is the page I'm up to in a revision. As you can see, I have a LOOOONG way to go. Progress-O-Meter tracking keeps me honest and shames me into actually working. I expect shaming when you don't get regular updates! Thank you for your support.

This is the New Normal

Life returns to "normal." Every time there's a major disruption to my regularly scheduled programming, I flail for a few days, rush to catch up, and then settle back down again. I'm sure it's the same for most everyone, though.

I am actually making progress in my editing again. Other than yesterday's headache detour, things are getting back on track. It makes me feel like I'm moving forward again, instead of stuck in the strange loop of trying to catch up every day.

I realize I haven't posted the Progress-O-Meter in a while. I think I'll save it for when I start working on the WIP again. I probably shouldn't call it the Work In Progress until I start back on it, though. How about the Work On Hold? WOH?

I've been biting my tongue about a promotion I plan to have. I decided to hint and wink about it, so here goes:

I found a company in my area that makes the most awesome things that I'm going to order as a tie-in to Running Down the Dragon. I'm waiting to hear back from them and set up a meeting with their artist to design the...promotional item thingies. I can't really say any more until after our meeting, but I promise to post all the awesomeness as soon as I have artwork. I will say I am incredibly thrilled about it, to the point I'm bouncing a little writing about it even in this vague, unhelpful way. :)

Yoga Cat

On that note, here's some art to tide you over. A deer walked through my yard yesterday, but she was gone by the time I thought to take a picture. Instead of the lovely wildlife shot I wanted to post, here's a gratuitously silly picture of my cat doing yoga. I call it the Upward Facing Cat pose.

Let's Play a Game, how about, which finger is the band-aid on? Answer: All of them!

Well, well, well. It's been a very interesting couple of days. I was going to start with the most telling moment and make this post all clever and sophisticated by then "flashing back" to all the correspondingly nit-witty moments of the last few days, but I'm all out of clever.

The First Bad Thing: Our living room TV crapped out for no discernible reason. Lulu was watching Spongebob one minute, and nothing the next. We tried for about six hours to figure out what was wrong with it before we finally gave up and brought out Ye Olde TeeVee from Lulu's room, and put the newer, albeit dead, unit on the floor. The 20-year-old tv has a bizarrely blurry picture, but then again, I think I was just used to looking at HD. The 10-year-old, yet dead, tv wasn't HD, but it was more than 10 years younger than the ancient beast we're using until we buy a new one. It's amazing what 10 years of technological advancement means in a TV.

Okay. I was upset about having to shell out a few hundred bucks for a tv this week, but I was getting used to the idea. Then last night Helper Monkey was leaving for work, and came back a minute later. His "Check Engine" light was on, and he wanted to take my truck to work. Fine. I know he needed a tune up, and I even knew why his check engine light was on. I'd been putting off tuning his Jeep for a month or so, but I knew last night I couldn't wait any longer. I'm not fond of mechanic work, but I'm competent. I just don't like to get that greasy. So this morning, I loaded Lulu into the Jeep, and we headed off to the auto parts shop.

Sidebar for a moment here: Tomorrow is Father's Day, just in case y'all forgot. I have to work the baseball game (which inexplicably, I just typed as "basebally game"). We'd been planning to order pizza tonight, and Helper Monkey proclaimed his desire to have a beer with his pizza. I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone and get beer while I was out getting auto parts. Helper Monkey was unaware that I'd severely depleted our beer stockpile over the last week or so, and I couldn't have him disappointed on Makeshift Father's Day. We also needed to make a stop at Dairy Queen, because that's how I managed to bribe Lulu into coming out with me.

So we went into the store, bought spark plugs and wires, but I couldn't convince the guy working there that the Jeep did, indeed, require two PCV valves, so I have to go back and finish the job another day. I didn't feel like standing there arguing with him, though, so I took my purchases and headed off for alcohol.

I bought a case of Guinness Black Lager for the Helper Monkey, swung by Dairy Queen (which I keep wanting to spell "Diary Queen"), and we headed home. My hands were full of auto parts and beer, while I trudged toward the garage refrigerator to deposit the bottles. I got the fridge door open, and then the handle on the case ripped and the smashing commenced. I nearly cried. All that Nectar of the Gods, gushing out onto the concrete! Forsooth!

Sad.

Luckily, only two bottles of the 12 smashed. Still. Sad.

Even worse: Trying to rip the box apart to salvage what I could before the entire garage flooded with Guinness, I ripped open my finger on one of the broken bottles. I didn't even realize I was bleeding until I got into the house and couldn't figure out why my hand was still wet.

Oh, and this morning, I cut a different finger on a can I was rinsing out for the recycling. So I have matching gashes on each hand.

Okay, so I came inside to let the engine cool down enough to work on, and we ordered pizza. The pizza was great! Every story needs a little break in the tension, after all. Pizza makes for a great break. STET.

After dinner, I headed out to do the tune-up. It should take about 40 minutes. It SHOULD take about 40 minutes, but I'm a ninny. I got 5 of the 6 plugs and wires replaced, but the last one just WOULD NOT COME OUT!!! I cursed the Chrysler corporation for putting the last spark plug right up against the alternator. What ding dongs.....oh. Right. I have a wrench attachment to go around corners that fixes that problem. Which I only remembered after ten minutes of wrench wrestling, cursing, wailing, and grumpiness.

Still, Chrysler put the battery in the way of replacing the right headlight. You actually have to remove the battery to change the wee tiny light bulb. Ding dongs. So I feel justified in cursing them, even though I had an easier solution to my current problem at hand.

The Jeep runs like a dream now.

I have a picture that I only realized the true magnitude of when I looked at it later. I wanted to send my step-father a picture of the offending spark plug that caused the fault, but the defunct TV is on the floor in the background.

I am the queen of Defunct Things.

When I was done, I was informed I needed to wash up before I was allowed to touch anything. Before I started work, I put a band-aid on my owie finger. Can you guess which finger that was?

Hint: It's the one that looks different.

So that ended up being the Helper Monkey's father's day. He gets a like-new car (with 218,000 miles on it), pizza, beer, and a frazzled, injured wifey. Oddly, it works out for us.

Now I hope the people at the ball game tomorrow night don't think my hands are still dirty when I serve them beer. It's 100% impossible to remove All The Grease in one day.

If only I could write this many words on my WIP today! That would be a true miracle. But seeing as how the Helper Monkey will be up in about 15 minutes, and it's his first day of vacation, I figure I should hang out with him tonight.

#b22k will have to wait

For those unfamiliar with #B22K, this is the creation of Lindsay Smith. She explains it on her blog here.

The idea is that you find time for writing every day. That you make time for writing every day, and set goals. In this case, the goal is 2k words. I started off the challenge with the best of intentions and the worst timing. I keep swearing to get more written every day, and then the fates conspire against me with finger injuries, car maintenance, and smashy beer.

I WILL write more. Dang it. Just not tonight. I need a nap now.

Progress-o-Meter:
Words: 54,145
Pages: 179

Lost in New York City, or Writing About Somewhere I'm Not

Okay fellow writers, here's a head scratcher for you. Sure, I wouldn't be in this predicament if I were a plotting plotter, but this is the dilemma my pantsing has led me to. I hope someone out there has some advice, or at least some tea and sympathy. Or even just some tea.

My current project has my main characters running around New York City. I'm 54k words into the project, so New York is staying put as the location. Right now, I need to get my characters from Harlem to Queens. They're following some bad guys in a car across the Queensboro Bridge. They NEED to cross this PARTICULAR bridge, but when I tried to get a good location view on Google maps, it jumps around between the upper deck, the lower deck, and the surface streets of Queens below the bridge as I tried to trace the route visually. THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING I WANT TO CRY!!!

I just need to know what the first possible exit street from the lower deck of the bridge is. My MC needs to be waiting there to pick up her surveillance on the bad guy's car. AND I CAN'T FIGURE THIS OUT!!! GAH!!!

Are any of you familiar with the Queensboro bridge? Or know someone who is? Can you ask that person to let me know?

I sincerely appreciate it. I will reward anyone who can share this info with me. I'll buy ten copies of your next book. I'll name my next pet after you. I'll climb up on the roof and sing a song about your gloriousness and post it on YouTube. Whatever you want! I'll do anything! You name it!

Can you tell I'm desperate here?

I've never had this kind of trouble before. My first novel in this series was set in places I'm very familiar with (Miami, Washington, DC, Boston, Maine), and the second was set in parts of Europe I was able to do a massive amount of research on. This third novel I had to go and set in a city I'm marginally familiar with, but haven't spent a huge amount of time wandering around. At least, I haven't spent a lot of time studying exit ramps from the Queensboro Bridge. Who the heck would do that? Well, I should have.

I'm about to the point where I'm going to take a day and drive up there, cross the bridge, maybe have lunch somewhere in Atlantic Beach, and drive home again. Talk about a long, boring waste of a day just to see what the first stinking cross street is on the Queens side of the bridge is! :)

UPDATE: While trying to copy an image of the Google Map to this post, I realized I was being a nincompoop. I just had to get them to travel across the upper deck of the bridge instead of the lower, and ALL THESE PROBLEMS ARE SOLVED! *doing the victory dance*

This is what happens when tired writer tries to write tired. From now on, I will hash out all my problems in blog post format, just to torture my few loyal readers. It seems to work! :)

Queensboro Bridge: Image from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:59thstbridge2007.jpg

Now that I've solved my own problem, it's time to go fix the MS.

Have any of you ever had difficulties writing about a city other than your hometown? How did you go about solving your difficulties? I'll probably have other location problems at some point in the future, and not all of them might be solved this easily!

Thanks again, everyone!

Happy writing!

Oh, and the Progress-o-Meter is running well lately:

Words: 53,650
Pages: 178

Though, these stats are only valid BEFORE I fixed the problems listed above.

Mad Libs

Today's after dinner game was Mad Libs. We enjoy this one. Picking the most bizarre words possible to fill the slots becomes a competition in itself. We're all kind of geeky that way.

Some favorite lines from tonight's game:

From one about the three branches of the U.S. Government:

• The Executive Branch includes the office of Pig Wrangler.
• The Judicial Branch is responsible for upholding the Firefly, which was flown by our founding fathers.
• The Judicial Branch includes a Supreme Sasquatch, which rules on mottled issues.
• The Legislative Branch is divided into two puddles.

One entitled Impeachment, reproduced here in its entirety:

A cloud can be impeached for any number of reasons, including lying to the United States Fungus, arrogantly abusing his powers to jiggle sweaters, making smelly remarks regarding shoes, or otherwise behaving in a crusty manner. If the cloud is impeached by the House of Bowties, a trial in the Senate could follow, presided over by the Chief Bowling Ball of the Fluffy Court. After rapidly weighing the lotions, senators will raise their toenails and cast a vote of either "sticky!" or "not sticky!"

And finally, my personal favorite, a rewrite of Nixon's famous "Checkers" speech:

My fellow staples, I spin before you tonight as a candidate for Worm Farmer, and as a man whose cat and mouthwash have been questioned. Every scum that Pat and I have ever gargled is urgently ours. Pat doesn't have a mink squeegee, but she does have a muddy Republican cloth squeegee. I always tell her she would look cadaverous in anything. We did get one gift, however. It was a moist cocker spaniel boomslang and our little sky, Tricia, named it Checkers. And no matter what they say, we're going to smash it.

Poor Checkers! No wonder they impeached the jerk. He smashed Checkers! Not to mention calling his wife cadaverous to her face! For shame!


So there you have it. History rewritten by the Hughes family in postprandial repose.

We're still looking for some new game recommendations that aren't too complicated for an almost-12-year-old, and yet not stabbiness-inducing for the grown-ups. We all enjoy word games, card games, trivia games, etc. Pretty much anything is on the table (especially whatever game you suggest). If you've got a good recommendation, please leave a comment! Thank you!

On a more serious note, I have to thank Jessa Russo for actually getting me to write while the sun shone today. She held a 1k in 1 hour challenge on the tweeties, and I pushed my "real work" aside for a whopping 53 minutes. At the end of that, I had 1,070 new words, though, so it was an (almost) hour very well spent. I would have had more, but I actually had to stop to research something before I committed it to paper (or keyboard, or electrons, or whatever). The perils of writing about something technical and wanting to be sure my terminology didn't come off as hokey or just plain wrong. So I wasted ten minutes making sure I worded a description properly. Sigh.

I still didn't finish the project that will bring in actual cash money, so I have to kill another hour or two with that tomorrow, but then it's all about the new words again! And Lulu goes to the eye doctor in the afternoon, so another day cut short with errands and driving and spending money. But it's better than letting her suffer with headaches when a new pair of glasses will hopefully fix the problem. I'd bring the laptop along and write, but I don't think I'd have much of a chance to get anything done.

Also, thanks to Tumblr, I am now coveting a new fountain pen. And thanks to my addiction to Moleskine notebooks, I also covet a small, lined notebook the same size as my pocket planner (3.5 x 5.5 or thereabouts. And also a 2013 planner, since shockingly, things are starting to pop up that require planning more than six months out. Gah! who invented this kind of long-term advanced planning? I never got used to putting my calendar in my phone. I like having it on paper so I can just flip through and make notes, cross notes out, etc. It's so much easier for me. Plus, Moleskine addict. Need I say more?

I'll settle for this simple Pelikan model fountain pen. A bargain at $278.22 on Amazon! Yikes! And I thought my $40 Zero Gravity Space Pen was pricey!

Still, one more good day of writing to look forward to. Here's the current Progress-o-Meter:

Words: 50,721 (yay! Half way!)
Pages: 166

Game Night

All this week, for some inexplicable reason, Lulu has decided that the half hour after dinner is game time. We've played Uno, Po-Ke-No (my copy of which is older than I am), and tonight I taught her how to play Scrabble. Her comment on finishing her first game of Scrabble: "It takes a really long time to play."

Since we now have a deck of playing cards in residence on our dining room table, I sat down before dinner tonight and dealt a hand of solitaire. Helper Monkey was over on the couch watching the news, glanced over at me, and asked what I was doing.

Me: "Playing solitaire."

Helper Monkey: "Don't you need your cell phone for that?"

Me: "No. I'm playing the old-fashioned way."

Five minutes later, Lulu walks in.

Lulu: "What are you doing?"

Me: "Playing solitaire. Doesn't anyone remember how to do this with actual cards?"

Helper Monkey plays solitaire on his phone all the time. I never do. I'm not even sure I have it installed on my phone. For some reason, I burned myself out on it years ago. I only play if I have real cards.

And I'm glad Lulu wants to play first world games every night. I think we're going for Yahtzee next. I enjoy playing any game that requires you to shout once in a while. I am a natural born shouter, and I'm usually encouraged to tone it down. Anyone know any other games that require loud outbursts? I'd love to know. I'd win those games every time. Or any games that are appropriate for an almost 12-year-old. I'm open to suggestions.

I was preparing to go outside with the laptop to write. It's gorgeous out, and I wanted to take advantage of the great weather. The neighbors stole my idea, though, and have already begun an outdoor hoedown, with a guitar player, a singer, and (gulp) a banjo player. Luckily they haven't played Dueling Banjos yet. I've locked the doors just in case. I think I'll write inside tonight, instead of out in the dark, in the woods, alone, with the banjos...

I bet you can squeal like a pig. Weeeeeeee! *shiver*

Now I bet I won't sleep well tonight, either.

Words: 46,805
Pages: 154

Driving myself to sleeplessness.

Some people are morning people. Some people are night owls. I am definitely the latter. I find that writing during the day is akin to pulling teeth. Through my nose. Once the sun goes down, I'm a writing fool.

To wit, I sat at the computer for hours yesterday trying to crank out pages. I stared at the blinking cursor, reread the last few pages of my WIP, and debated tearing out my hair versus biting off my fingernails. After dinner last night, when the house started to quiet down for the evening (as if it hadn't been quiet all day, too), my fingers finally connected up with my brain and the words flowed.

I thought about stopping for the night when Helper Monkey left for work at eleven. In fact, I stood up, stretched, got a glass of water, shut the computer, and sat on my back porch reading Twitter on my cell phone. I was Preparing For Bed. I never even made it to the brush-my-teeth phase. Five minutes later, I knew what I wanted to write, and sat back down at the computer. Two hours later, I couldn't stay awake any longer. I needed sleep. But I was too wired from writing. I finally got to sleep sometime around two. And after waking up at 6:30 this morning, I REALLY need the sleep. But once again, it's after ten, and I'm just getting warmed up.

So can anyone shed some light on this for me? Can chronic sleep deprivation cause bran dimmage? I mean brain damage? I can't wait for summer vacation from school. I'll be allowed to sleep as late as I want every day, and stay up all night long writing. Last summer, I wrote 15,000 words in a single day. Sure, I spent fifteen hours at the keyboard, and I knew exactly what I wanted to write. Granted, it was a lot of crap that had to be edited to a nearly ridiculous level, but it essentially became the bones of the book I'm querying now. After nearly a year of editing and revising, mind you.

I'm not sure how long I can keep up the late nights, but I hope it's until the current novel is done. HAHAHA! That's funny. So far, this has been the slowest-going novel I've ever written. Getting the words out on paper (or the computer screen) is harder this time around than it's ever been before. (And this is my fifth go at a full-length, 100k word novel.)

I think it's partially the fact that I'm actively querying the first novel in this series. Until I have the approval of an agent, I think my brain doesn't want to cooperate and knuckle down to do the work. I have the second novel in the series ready to go, as well. It's not like I don't have something else to send the glorious angel of an agent who loves the story as much as I do. My brain is practical though. It doesn't want to waste time making words for a book with such an uncertain future. Sure, I doubt myself. All writers do. But that's no reason to let my writing suffer. So I keep writing the best I can.

So I'm off to make the pages, out on the back porch where the rain patters gently against the copper roof and reminds me of what my characters are going through at the moment. It's raining in the novel, and it's raining here. It's as good an atmosphere for writing as I could hope for. Hopefully I'll get to sleep before midnight tonight!

Words: 45,092
Pages:  148

Coffee fixes everything.

Well, coffee certainly fixed my sagging mental capabilities when I dumped Coke and Dr. Pepper as two of my main food groups. So, I guess everything else that got better in the last 48 hours can be indirectly credited to the influence of a good cup (read: pot) of coffee.

What's the most interesting thing to happen in the last few days? Something I'm not allowed to talk about. Sorry folks. Nothing writing related, but I promised to button my lip, so I'll shut up now.

Second most interesting? Finding out I correctly diagnosed the problem with the Helper Monkey's Jeep. I am now renaming myself Grease Monkey. Helper Monkey SWORE he thought the problem was in the exhaust system, and I swore up and down it was a spark plug misfiring. Of course, when plugged into the diagnostic machine at AutoZone, it spat out a cylinder 4 misfire code. Which means I WAS RIGHT! :)

So there. This is why I never get taken advantage of at car repair places. And why the Helper Monkey makes me take both cars in for repairs. You can't fool me. I know engines better than some mechanics I've met. So when my writing career fails to materialize, I think I'll go into automotive repair. Now I just have to find a few hours in which to give the Jeep its tune up. Oh, and buy spark plugs and wires. Gah! Too much busy!

I actually wrote for several hours last night, which is a vast improvement over the complete wasteland my WIP is becoming. Last time I opened it up, a few tumbleweeds rolled out. So now, I have 30 minutes to write before I have to think about dinner, and then another few hours to work again tonight. Busy busy busy...

At least the baseball game I was scheduled to work tonight is getting rained out. I'll get back on track someday. I swear I will. *boohooing over lack of writing time*

Words: 41,435
Pages: 137

This is why I lost on Jeopardy!

I stink at pushing the button. It's my major downfall in life. It's why I only managed a single win on Jeopardy! The Stinking Button. (For anyone who doesn't know about the whole Jeopardy! thing, you can read about it here and here.) (And yes, when referring to the game show, if you leave of the exclamation mark, you've spelled it wrong.)

Despite the obvious nerd credit involved with just being on a show like Jeopardy!, I obviously lack some basic nerd skills. I'm not great at video games, because I have a slow trigger finger. I never mastered the darned buzzer button, and I only won a single game because I lucked into a couple of Daily Doubles and wagered big. As soon as I had to face another contestant with a faster thumb than mine, I lost.

Don't get me wrong, I type quite well. I used to be a medical transcriptionist, and you have to type fast to scrape a living doing that. Obviously I lack any other button-pressing skills. I've managed to get quick enough on the Wii to beat an 11-year-old at Mario Kart, but I don't think that skill translates 1:1 into button pushing.

To wit: I failed TWICE to make it into The Writer's Voice multi-blog writing contest. And they even added an extra 25 slots to the second round of entries!

REPRIEVE!!! The four blog owners who are running the contest graciously opened up a third entry window, with only 25 additional slots, today at noon. Maybe the third time's the charm? I can only hope so. My internet connection has been wonky lately, with extra-slow loading capabilities. It's been a nostalgic few days here, hearkening back to my old dial-up connection. I've got to call Verizon and figure out what the problem is.

So I've got one last chance. Let's hope I'm a little quicker on the draw today. Since I don't have the ridiculous schedule I had to battle yesterday (where I was only home for an hour, and running around like an idiot for at least 14 other hours), maybe I can go all zen and miraculously come in under the wire this time. Here's hoping!*

And May the 4th be with you today, this fine Star Wars day.

With the crazy schedule this week, I haven't been writing much, but I feel the need for an update here, if only for my own records:

Words: 39,064
Pages: 130

* And no, I failed again. I kept hitting the refresh button waiting for the widget to appear, when all I needed to do was scroll down to the bottom of the post. I came in at post #206, and they capped the entries at 200. Once again, how the hell did I ever managed to qualify for Jeopardy! in the first place?

**And edited to include this photographic evidence:

Me, as a blonde, and the Trebekster

Sigh...but amazing nonetheless.

Well, Janet Reid announced the winner of the Liz Norris Pay It Forward Debut Novel Contest today, and it wasn't me. But I could have told you that days ago. In fact, I had the winner picked since the day before I announced my finalist status. She was finalist #3, and was revealed the day before I was. When I read her entry, I basically knew I didn't have a chance to win. Congrats to Cassie Marshall on winning, and getting to go to New York for the Backspace conference! My personal seething jealousy aside, I'm confident her novel, "The Stars Fell Sideways" will be on bookstore shelves in the very near future!

So, what am I doing now that I don't have to pack and plan for a trip to New York? Querying. When I took a break to revise my first novel back in early March, I stopped querying. I resumed for a few days around the time I entered the Liz Norris contest, but stopped again when I was (miraculously!) chosen a finalist. I figured, what the heck, I've got a 1 in 9 shot of winning now, so I'll wait and polish that query again before I head back into the land of writer torture (a.k.a. querying agents).

I spent the entire day today dusting off my agent research, finalizing my query, and compiling emails to half a dozen agents. Knock on wood one of them works! It really is a time drag, but I needed a day off from my WIP. I'm entering the Great Boggy Middle of the novel now, and it's perilous trying to navigate my way through those treacherous swamps. False plot lines threaten to lure me off the trail, while here and there I see a glimmer of light through the trees and hope to dog I'm still walking in the right direction.

The Helper Monkey is about a third of the way through Devil May Care, and so far he likes it even better than Dragon Hunter. And I planned to change the name of Dragon Hunter to Running Down the Dragon, but since I'm claiming "Finalist" status in the Liz Norris contest on my queries, I thought it best to hold on to the original title for a while. At least until an agent requests more material. At that point, I think I will let them know I changed the working title. Just in case any of them ask Janet Reid about my entry in her contest, it would be bad if they used the new title, and Janet told them she never heard of it, and I must be some crackpot. :) So, for now, sticking with the old title, even though I've lost all my love for it.

And I finally found an image that remotely looks like my dragons. Although all the dragons in my novel are black. Whatever. These are the closest things I've been able to find that fit my mental picture of my imaginary friends. Hopefully this helps anyone who read my query clarify what I mean by dragons. Minus the weird otherworldly backdrop. My main dragon lives in Boston, for crying out loud! :)

Thanks again, everyone. Especially Janet Reid, Liz Norris, and everyone involved in the contest. It was a fantastic trip, and I'm grateful to have been introduced to so many wonderful people along the way, even if we're only friends online for now. Someday we'll all be published, and meet regularly at events and conferences, and have yet another great story to tell.

The Progress-o-Meter is kind of stuck lately, but here it is, anyway. I plan to write some tonight. Hopefully. We'll see. Still recovering from the craziness.

Words: 31,473
Pages: 103

Tumblr is a Time Sink

That's right. I was writing. "Was" being the operative word in that sentence. I happily edited the last ten pages or so I made last night, and picked up writing where I left off. And then I took a break and checked the Tweeties. There was an interesting link to someone's Tumblr. I tried to resist clicking, but I had to see the damned picture. So I spent the next forty minutes dancing through Tumblr posts. Gah! That's why I don't use it more often. I'd waste my whole life reading through everyone's mental meanderings and random photos. What is wrong with me? I have important work I need to be doing!

I had to take Lulu to the mall today to buy a pair of plain black flats for her chorus concert in a few weeks. They rejected her current pair because they have little metal pyramid studs across the toes. So I spent 30 perfectly good dollars on a pair of shoes she'll probably wear once. Crap. At least we got soft pretzels. The mall is good for something.

We also got new slippers. Two pairs for $10, and they're as soft as little pillows. I have a slipper obsession. I don't have any idea why, but I wear them constantly, and they wear out almost as fast as I can buy them. I think I'm on my fifth pair since the new year. My slippers are black with little purple bows, and it took me ten minutes to realize there was no "right" or "left" slipper. They're like little glorified ankle socks, with cushioning sewn into the sole. Delightful! Lulu's are rainbow stripes.

So now I finally get a chance to sit and write, and what do I do? Waste half the night on Tumblr. I give up. I'm going back to work now. Fooey on the Internet for being such a tempting diversion.

Words: 30,157
Pages: 99

Writey McWriterson is back

Finally, a day where I accomplished a substantial block of writing, despite my many attempts to procrastinate. Since writing is essentially boring to anyone but the writer, I figured anyone reading this post might be more interested to know what I did during breaks to avoid going back to work distract myself for a few scant minutes at a time.

I needed to get in a holiday mood this morning, because my WIP takes place three days before Christmas. It was in the upper seventies here today, and sunny. Not exactly getting me in the mood to write this particular tale. I hauled out my Jack Skellington mug and made some hot tea, thinking it might help the mood along. While it brewed, I cleaned the kitchen a bit, and then found a great project to stall for a while occupy the few minutes before I had to get to work.

We keep a flower pot full of pens and pencils on the counter by the phone. It was overflowing with crayons, markers, and all manner of things, and you couldn't get half the pens into the pot anymore. I dumped it out on the counter, and tested each pen before placing it carefully back. By the time I finished that important task, I was almost done with the tea, and figured I should get to work.

I threw out about a dozen non-functional pens, and still the pot's full to bursting.

My next distraction came a few hours later. The kid has a little stretchy man made of yellow rubber, and she was throwing it up into the air in the living room. It stuck to the ceiling, about fifteen feet up.

He's the little speck in the middle of the shot. Sorry it's hard to see, but it was about ten feet above my head.

The Helper Monkey got the broom and retrieved the little guy for us.

Safe and sound...for now

Of course, this prompted a round of running around the house finding other surfaces he might stick to. You see, he's not sticky, he won't stick to the painted walls, or the fridge, or the stove, or the light fixtures, or anything else in the house. So we started throwing him up against the ceiling again.

On the ceiling of the hall

This, as you might imagine, was insanely fun. We found a ceiling we could reach ourselves, without the Helper Monkey's assistance, and spent the next ten minutes making him stick, before knocking him down with a broom again.

All this highly intellectual activity was exactly what I needed to inspire me to go back to work. Actually, it was the shame at how hard we'd been laughing at Sticky Yellow Guy's trauma that eventually drove me back to work.

Nevertheless, I still managed to get quite a bit accomplished today. I'm stunned how this project is turning out to be completely different than the last book in this series, just as that one was completely different from the first. This one is much more of a mystery, with my two main characters following a bunch of twisty-turny clues to solve the crime. I'm dashing everything down in my usual Pantser fashion, but I know this book is going to require a lot more in the editing department than the others. Continuity is a bigger issue here than it was in the others, since it's freaking hard to keep track of who knows what about the mystery. Can't have anyone reveal something too soon, and can't have people oblivious to something they should have known already. Gah! So confusing! So in addition to all the new words I've written today, I've spent an inordinate amount of time skipping back in the narrative to make sure the continuity is....continuous. Ahem.

Back to work again, while the word factory is still open for business in my brain.

Words: 28,261
Pages: 93

Afterthought: What's with the new Blogger interface? I'm lost. Please bear with me until I get used to it.

 After-Afterthought: I finally named my WIP. It's called BLACK SHEEP, for future reference. I hate naming my novels. In fact, I'm thinking of renaming DRAGON HUNTER. I was thinking RUNNING DOWN THE DRAGON sounded better. Any thoughts?

I'm suffering from Writer Brain.

More accurately, the Helper Monkey is suffering from MY Writer Brain. Since he works night shift, and gets only one night off a week, we tend to use that night to catch up on a ton of recorded TV shows. We watch a lot of mystery/police/detective type shows, and my severe case of Writer Brain is starting to infringe on his fun. We've been noticing that, since I started writing, I've gotten better and better at spotting the twist in the plot long before it's revealed.

When I spot it, I swear I try to hold my tongue, but I get too much of a thrill showing off my hard-won Writer Brain. And Helper Monkey is getting used to me pausing the show, sometimes as early as fifteen minutes in, to reveal what I've figured out about all the characters. It's happening so often now, he's actually started congratulating me on it, rather than being peeved for ruining the show.

I think Writer Brain is a side effect of writing. I spend hours every day trying to craft these kinds of mysteries. When I see a simplified version of a mystery (like an hour-long cop show on TV), I can't resist applying my own writing process to the action on screen. It's become a game for me to see how early in the show I can spot the upcoming AHA! moments. It's sort of like writing in reverse.

Having said all that, it's back to actual work for me. Since I've confessed I spent most of last night and today watching TV with the Helper Monkey, I haven't written much. Here's the update, though:

Words: 24,272
Pages: 80

Fun with Sock Puppets

I just got the kid from school, and she's started a new project in her Life Skills class (think home ec.). They are using their new-found sewing skills to make sock puppets. I love this.

Today they had to sketch out their designs. She brought it home for me to see. I love my kid. This is what she designed for her sock puppet:

It's Doctor Who!

Yes, she's making a Doctor Who sock puppet, complete with bow tie and Fez. And even a wibbly wobbly timey wimey thrown in for good measure.

Her second choice design is a little more disturbing:

Creepy weeping angel.

If you've never seen the "Blink" episode of Doctor Who (or any of the subsequent episodes featuring these monsters), this might seem cute. Trust me, it's one of the least cute things I have ever seen. *brrrrr*

I'm glad she went with the Doctor.

So this is what we're teaching her.

Writing has been going sort of well. I managed to make new words, and get the bills paid, and balanced the checkbook, and dealt with idiot people on the phone. If I've spoken with you on the phone in the last few days, please know that you, personally, were absolutely NOT one of the idiot people. That was someone else. You were absolutely delightful (unless you're with Verizon or Citibank. Then, you stink.)

Chorus tonight, which means two hours of semi-uninterrupted writing time. Huzzah!

Since the last update:

Words: 20,512
Pages: 67