Tall tales

Once upon a time there was a lady who thought, "I'm gonna write a blog about writing a book." And she did, for a little while. Until one day an evil hag came to her castle and tied her up in miles and miles and miles of rope. "Now," cackled the weathered old crone, who just happened to hate romance novels, "no more writing for you." Until one day, the fair writer was freed by...

Ok. You're not buying it are you. I bet you're sitting there reading saying, "Right Vicki. You were held hostage by a regency-repulsed retiree. If that's the best excuse you have for not writing, then I'm logging out."

You're right. No need for excuses. Cause I don't have one. The summer came. Long evenings. Long cold evenings with rain, drizzle and fog, perhaps, but still ok to sear meat to on the open grill and consume wine. And I just sort of forgot that I was writing a book. Or a blog. And that's not a good thing, is it. I mean, how the heck am I supposed to finish a novel, when I just kept forgetting to write the bloody thing. And as for the blog, well, I convientently forgot that too. And then, last night as I sat at my computer, frustrated with work because I've been working a lot lately, goofing around posting pictures of my cats and fish and mom's dog and the birds from last winter on Facebook - which I never do because I hate Facebook most days - I thought, "Why the hell am I not writing?"

So that's a good question. And there's no good answer other than, " Right. Back to it." So there you have it. I'm not making any blog promises now that I might not keep, but if I get all my work done this weekend, then maybe I'll get back to writing. After all, there's three months left to the year. And I said this was the year I was going to finish my novel. So stay tuned, friends. Because as the fall approaches, I expect so will the words.

A long weekend on the horizon...

Do we want to take bets about whether I'll manage to get a sentence, let alone a paragraph written over the Victoria Day weekend?

Let's see. Saturday morning I might get some writing done. Unless I drink too much wine while celebrating my sister's 30th birthday at a fancy downtown restaurant.

The rest of Saturday will likely be a write off. I'm heading to my parent's cabin for the night, and I have a feeling my darling 2 year old nephew will not stand for Auntie hiding away and trying to write.

Sunday. Gone again. Off to the hubby's parents cabin for a 40th wedding anniversary party.

If we can manage to get up and on the road Monday morning, then there's a slight chance that I can manage to hunker down at home and write.

Now you might wonder why I'm not taking this nice long weekend to write. Where's the dedication? Unfortunately, the May 24th weekend has never been one where relaxation is on the agenda. Between birthdays and cabin trips, and the unofficial start to a good Newfoundland summer -never mind that quite often this weekend late in May is peppered with snow-well, there are things that must be done. And writing doesn't seem to be one of them.

Happy long weekend to everyone in Canada. And happy regular oh-so-short weekend to everyone else.

Definitions

Is it a bad thing to tell your boss that on your list of priorities in life, this is the lay of the land?

1. Starting a family

2. Writing novels

3. Doing my job

I honestly don't know. But I figure there are times to fudge the truth, and times to be honest, and that moment just seemed like the right time to set it straight. That doesn't mean that when I'm at work, I'm not committed. I am. It's one of the reasons it's so hard to write in the evening. I'm too busy checking emails, thinking about my projects, reading up on how to do my job better. But when it comes down to it, my job is just my job. It doesn't define who I am.

I'm trying hard not to let the things I want define who I am either. After all, I'm not yet a mother, nor a novelist. But that doesn't keep me from trying to become both. So new rule. I'm going to try harder when I'm home in the evening to think like a novelist, and less like a marketer.

Let's see how it goes.

Know thy enemy. Know thyself.

Today I received a copy of the Romance Writers Report from the nice people at Romance Writers of America. The cover was lovely. A woman (in much better shape than I am) sat resting peacefully on a rock, water behind her, and a laptop perched on her... well, lap, of course. And there it was. The headline. "Defeating your own worst enemy-yourself."

Did everything Shirley Jump, the article's author, say apply to me? Of course not. We all have different issues. And her point-of-view was from that which I wish I was, an author able to stay home all day and procrastinate. I, on the other hand, need to fit my procrastination in to my weekends and evenings. Still, it was timely. And some of her advice seemed written just for me. Here are my favourite take-aways from her article:

• Bribe yourself: She uses candy, or a lunch with friends. I think I'll use wine. Or that lovely 12-year-old Macallan Reg gave me for Christmas.

• Find extra time: Ok. The person who can get up at 4 am to write, wow. Good for her. I don't think I can do that. But maybe I can get up by 5:30. I can try that. Or commit to two nights a week. I'm going to give it a go.

• Make a list: Oh boy. I'm the queen of making lists. You should see my desk. And my notebook. And even the Things app on my iPad. I make great lists. But I don't follow them that well. But... if I combine making the list, with the bribery, then I might be on to something.

• Stop bad behavior by doing something different: My bad behavior (I'm talking that behaviour that keeps me from writing, here, not those bad things I've done in the past!) is telling myself I need to feel inspired to write. As in my current mindset, which is, I can only write when I have lots of time and freedom and am hidden away in the woods. If that's what it takes, then I'm never going to finish this book. So what should my something different be? Thoughts?

And finally, this didn't come from the article, but from my dear husband, who never stops being supportive.

"Write something on that blog of yours everyday. Even if it's just two sentences." He's right. If I can update twitter, I can write a little post.

So there we have it. Think I can pull it off? Stay tuned tomorrow.

PS: I had no idea who Shirley Jump was, so I googled her (did you know Google doesn't want to erode their brand by turning their search engine into a verb? Silly google. It's too late for that. We all go googling.) Anyhow, turns out she has a blog, and I like it. At least the first few posts I've seen. She writes about writing, and food, and drinks. I think I'll like her blog a lot. I linked to it above. So if you click on her name, you too can read about food and drinks.

Out of the woods

Good news all. After a week in the woods, I have emerged with six chapters written.

What I need to do now is keep up the momentum I've created and not let work take over again. It's back to the grind tomorrow, and I hope that it won't end in another three month long dry spell. I think the hubby and I have created a plan though to prevent it. Every second weekend we'll try and slip away.

Yes, I said we. Because the only downfall of my week was the realization that I don't like spending nights alone in the wild anymore. Before I met my hubby I was quite the independent lady. In fact, I once went to my parent's cabin alone for almost two months! Then I fell in love, got used to having him with me wherever I went, and Voila. Eight years pass and I find myself alone in the woods, terrified at the slightest creak and shimmy. Needless to say, the remedy for this was to have Reg come up to the cabin every night. Good for me. Bad for him. I'm a very lucky woman to have a man like him in my life.

So aside from the scary nights, here's a quick rundown of how a day progressed.

I'd get up around 8, make coffee and have some grapefruit. Take a quick scroll through what I'd written the day before. If it wasn't snowing or raining I'd walk down to the pond with the camera to see if I could spot the two ducks that had holed up in the little bit of the pond that wasn't frozen.

Back at the cabin, I was working at the kitchen table. One thing I discovered was that a lack of distraction is wonderful. No TV. No internet. Just me, some music, a vase of tulips and a lovely view. I'd sit and write, whole scenes jumping out of my head, onto the page. One thing I didn't do was sit and stare at each sentence, reworking it over and over.

My goal for this trip was to get as much of the story out of my head as possible. There'll be lots of editing and tweaking to come, I assure you. But now at least I have a clearer idea of what's happening, who my main characters are, what makes the chemistry between them work, why they care for each other, what is the primary obstacle that they need to overcome. With each day came new ideas, whole chapters coming alive.

It was a heavenly week. I proved that I can make progress on this, and I have a better idea of what's happening next. I need to stay out of the over-thinking pit, at this stage at least. There'll be lots of time for that once I have a complete draft in front of me. For now, I'm just going to write whatever comes to me. It seems to be working that way.

All I need is some peace and quiet, a pretty view, and a good husband not too far away come night fall.

Preparing for a week of writing

First of all, thanks so much for all the questions and advice that you guys sent to me. I really appreciated them all. When the book is done, you'll find some answers in there. And my next post will address some of them. I promise to post at least once before I go away. Which leads to the big news: there's just one week left till I head to the woods for two weekends with the whole week in between to make a big push towards "gettin' er done", as we say at work.

My last blog post resulted in lots of great offers of places to go, and each one of them would be perfect. In the end, my in-laws cabin has won out for three good reasons: it's within an hour of home so the hubby can come visit me; it has a spectacular view of a pond and I can already envision early mornings sitting at the table by the big kitchen window that overlooks the water, drinking my coffee and getting my head together; and finally, it has heat. And a woodstove. So I can get the best of both worlds. For those of you readers not familiar with Newfoundland, which is where I live, we just had a snowstorm two days ago and everything here is covered in ice and snow. Heat is important! Also, I must confess, it's not as secluded as my parent's cabin, so I know that if I get starved for company, there's bound to be a stray aunt or uncle in law nearby. And did I mention no internet? Which is ideal. Clearly not because I'd spend more time blogging than writing, but because I can escape both curses that plague me: the curse of wanting to research more; and the curse of checking my work email, even when I'm off. I bet this week is going to seem endless as I count off the days till I get away.

I would have dearly loved to go to my Nan's cabin. Honestly, that would have been the ideal place. It's where she read all her romances, it's where I used to read in the rocking chair across from her, and it's just one of the most beautiful places in the world. But it's five hours away, I haven't been there since she passed, and I would be there all alone. My fear is that I'd spend more time missing her than accomplishing anything at all. But maybe this summer the hubby will have time to come with me and we'll go for a visit.

Stay tuned for the promised post before the week is out.

Thanks everyone!

20 Questions

Yesterday I received a tweet. For those of you not familiar with Twitter, that's what you call a little post someone makes. Anyhow, this tweet said, "I'll post something new if you will." That was my cousin Ken's way of saying, "We are bad bloggers. Get back at it, lady." Well, I think that's what it means. My cousin lives in Ottawa and I don't see much of him, but I figure that's the general gist of what he means. So here I am, blogging.

The other part of his tweet, well, that's the part I don't really want to write about. He asked, "Any progress with the writing?" Should I hold a poll to see what you all think the answer to that is? You got it. It's a big no.

"Vicki!", I bet you're wondering. "The last time you posted you were all ready to embrace the inspiration of the morning and write and write and write." And I did. I wrote about six pages, which is pretty good. But then I got on twitter, and created an account for Ches's, and tweeted for that, and then I had supper, and then I turned around and it's two or three weeks later and here I am with no blog, no new writing, and a derelict twitter feed for the family business. I suck.

To be honest, I should have inspiration to write all over the place. The hubby is supportive, the family is supportive, I even had that kick in the pants from a real romance writer. And still, I'm approaching another weekend with no idea what I can produce this weekend.

I've done all kinds of "sort of" work. I sent in my membership to the Romance Writers of America, a writer's organization for people like me. I almost booked a research trip to England, but then hubby realized he was too far behind in his work for us to go. I re-read a book about regency era fashions. I even read a couple of new romance novels including "A Lady Most Likely", which has two of my favourite authors together! But no writing. So I need your help. I gotta get my head back in the game. So I'm asking you to ask me a question, something for me to ponder about the story. Like "Is your main character allergic to grass?" or "Why is your main hunk a Duke?" You can ask it either in this blog, or on twitter, or on facebook, or to me directly. Maybe I'll blog some answers. And even better, maybe it'll get me thinking a little differently and get me past this hump I'm stuck on. I'd really appreciate the gentle prod.

Just so you know, it's not that I don't think about the story. Yesterday, for instance, I told a co-worker I was going to make a crotchety, curmudgeon character and model it after him. Sorry JMR. We made up after, and now he can be much more dashing. And I've also booked a week off work in April so I can disappear somewhere to really get some writing done. That works for me, the hiding away in the woods. So I'm going to do it again. And it would be great if I'm back in fighting form when I do it.

So please, friends. Help a struggling storyteller out. Ask me a question.