Excuses, excuses

I haven't blogged much lately, but that doesn't mean I'm not writing. Believe it or not, I'm trying to put a book together to be out in November. I didn't say I'd succeed, but who knows? Maybe.

I've also written an article for the genealogy society, my regular newspaper article, and a few poems and short stories, which I haven't done in a while.

You have to write when inspiration comes along.

Also, as you know, I had an in depth interview that will someday be shown, and that took some thought.

I also had to put on make-up.

And, of course, I had to buy a new outfit for the Georgia Author of the Year Awards, which is next Saturday. I don't know exactly why I had to buy a new outfit, as sitting in that big crowd doesn't call for one, but anyway, I did.

I have a  lot of other excuses, but they ain't as excitin' as the ones I just shared, so I'll just shut up for now.

Is There An Editor In The House?

As I am about 90 pages into writing my next novel, and haven't touched it much in a few weeks because of hospitals, blah,blah,blah, I found myself a little confused about the timeline of the story.

Of course the rational thing to do is start reading the manuscript, clean notebook pages to the side for notes; and while you're at it, might as well get out the dreaded red pencil.

Well, the red pencil has been hard at work. I knew in the back of my mind I was going to make a major change regarding language, but really, really dreaded going back and making those changes.

At any rate, I'm plodding through it.

The good news is, I think this is a pretty funny book! I like it! 

Now, if only you do.

If I ever finish it, that is.

Cross your fingers, say a prayer and root for me, okay?

Thanks.

Carpel Tunnel Rules!

Raise your hand if you have Carpal Tunnel.

Ha! Trick question. If you have Carpal Tunnel, you can't raise your hand. (well, maybe some of you can, beats me.)

It is one of the minor ailments I have, but after working on my book yesterday and getting eight pages done, Carpal Tunnel wasn't so  minor.

If you are a writer, contemplate this: How easy is it to read eight pages of a novel versus to write eight pages of a novel? And, no, don't send your therapist's bill to me.

It's like comparing having to floss versus a root canal.

Don't be a writer unless you just hafta.

But the trip is exhilarating. You go into 'flow' and don't know where the time goes. One has a great sense of accomplishment when the rush is over. As  you read what you've done, edit as you go, and then let it get 'cold' for further editing, it does feel like you are on top of the world.

That  may not last long; however. Like when you go back and read it after it's 'cold' and you say, "What the heck does that  mean? Can I really not spell anything correctly?"  Etc.

Still, this past week I have accomplished a great deal. Searching all through this stupid computer to find hidden poems, essays and short stories that for some reason were filed in a hundred different places; compiling them into one file and printing them out so I can actually see what I have was very satisfying. As was working on my current novel. 

Who knows? Someday you may be forced have the privilege of reading this load of junk fascinating collection.

Until then, somebody get  me the ice pack. My arm is killin' me.

I'm on a Roll

I've been writing a book since January. It has been worked on slowly, not at all, and sometimes in a frantic pace to get it all down just like I am seeing it.

For the past few days, the pace has been frantic. I don't like being pulled away from the book, and as of right now I'm out in the studio and darkness has fallen.

But I figure if I can just get in a few more paragraphs...I can sleep tonight.

Or remember more stuff and jot it down furiously.

I know when I 'm in the midst of everything because the characters are intense. I may cry or laugh while I am typing a particular scene.

So, pardon me if the blog is short.

At least it's sweet.

Belief in Oneself

I've been singing in public since I was fourteen years old. I love to sing. In fact, I sing all the time.

I've been told I have a good voice. I was urged to go to college and major in voice.

That was not my calling, and I believe you must be driven if you are to make something like that your life.

Obviously, by now, I have  heard myself sing.

But when I listen, all I hear are the mistakes. That note was a little flat. My voice wobbled too much at the end. I breathed at the wrong place. I sang the wrong word!

You get the picture.

I don't have a lot of faith in the beauty of my voice.

I still sing. I feel sometimes the nudge of the Holy Spirit to sing a particular song, and I hope I don't ignore those nudges, no matter what they are about.

But writing is different. Don't get me wrong. I am well aware there are better writers out there. Many, many they number.

The thing is, I don't mind reading what I've written. I go back after something is "cold" and re-read it and often times am pleased. I think, "Did I really write that?"

I'm not sure why I am so confident about one talent and not so much about the other one, when I'm given compliments about both.

Maybe it doesn't really matter how I feel about either one of them.

I just need to keep on doing what God instructs me to do.

He'll make beauty out of the beast when He chooses.

Books

As you know, I love books.

And for the past two days, all I've talked about are books. My books, specifically.

Having written five and working on my sixth, it is exciting to have someone who actually wants to talk about them.

Yesterday, I talked to my publisher, kicking around ideas about upcoming book signings with other authors who have books about Christmas. What a neat idea! Christmas books, cookies, punch, little kids running around, Santa...I don't know, it sort of gets me in the spirit of the season.

Today I talked to another author who was having a book signing in a neighboring county. He introduced me to the owner of the store, who welcomed me, agreed to look over my books for possible purchase and sales, and even invited me to have a book signing there.

The fellow author also told me of another place that sells local author books, which I will check out in the near future.

I'm not much of a salesperson, I don't have a lot of physical stamina, and I can't afford a publicist. So most of my books sell by word of mouth.

And if you have read and like my books, that would be your mouth.

If you are a member of a book club that has speakers from time to time, I'd love to be a guest. If there's one thing I can do besides write, it's talk.

Even if I never sell another book, I will keep on writing.

Because, you know, I have to.