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litpark » Question of the Month: Pet
5 days ago · 53 comments
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litpark » Question of the Month: Pet
http://ascenderrisesabove.com/wordpress/
go play in those leaves, the crunch is awesome.
xo.
I am sure your family will be glad to have got a bit more of you back.
Okay, ready for my latest tale of six degrees (or is that three degrees?) of separation with Susan Henderson? When I read about the Speak and Spell thing, something jogged my memory...like, I know who invented that or had something to do with it so I had to hit Google. While this person is not your dad, I found what I was looking for right away and shivered at the coincidence. Does the name Reed Ghazala mean anything to you? Here's the link to his site: http://www.anti-theory.com/bio/. The reason I know of him is that he's worked with Pat Mastelotto of King Crimson. Pat is King Crimson's drummer and will be touring with Adrian Belew next year when King Crimson re-forms for 10 reunion shows. Pat and Eric are great friends and just did a gig together in Seattle.
How freaking weird and cool.
Have an awesome day and enjoy your weekend! And if you do come in and comment at some point this weekend, I have a question. Are your edits for your recently sold book or have you already moved to edits on book two? And is book two sold? Come on, spill!
Have a great weekend, everyone!
I'm in Virginia now. I just tried half a teaspoon of $250 balsamic vinegar. Who knew there was such a thing?
Have a good day -- it is well-earned. And thanks for the book! It has confirmed that the church next to our apt. bldg was indeed where Al Capone got married. Cool, huh?
Yun
Day off here, too, though NANO is still looming but guess what, kiddies, this week's NANO PEP email will be from none other Neil Gaiman himself.
Sue, I know you will want me to copy it and post it here, yes?
BTW: Did it make you feel as good as it did me to know that we are both ahead of Sara Gruen in our word counts? :-) It's the little things that spur us onward, right?
No pressure there...
Yeah, a love note from Neil will be nice but it's hard to take advice from someone who has his own writing cabin for f*cks sake. I'm trying to write at the moment with my son practicing drums next to me and my daughter yelling out orders (Do we have tomatoes? Do we have whole wheat pasta? Where is it, Mom, I can't find it) from her command central in the kitchen while I am stoned out of my gourd on blood pressure and other assorted meds attempting to stay upright at my desk....
Just passed 26,000 words though so as long as I can swing another 700 words or so, I'm still on track...
Oh, and pie. Lots of pie. I love pie.
Oh, Chez Kimberly sounds unbelievable. I wish I were there now. Round two of stressful Friday is about to start...kiddies left, now the significant other is on his way home and he's had a bad day. Lovely.
Yeah, pie sounds good. You ever eat at Bubby's in Tribeca? Oh my god...the pie, the pie...
DAMN YOU ROBIN SLICK AND YOUR SUPERIOR WRITING ABILITIES!!!
:-)
I declare a WORD WAR!!! (click to see the widget in action)
http://www.nanowrimo.org/NanowrimoUtils/WordWar...
ps - Nathalie is kicking all of our butts, she's already over 40K!
I hope you had a great (well-deserved) day off!
Nice on the cinnamon rolls.
wondertwin...check your email.
xo.
(or you can just email me...haha...)
xxx
Dear NaNoWriMo Author,
By now you're probably ready to give up. You're past that first fine furious rapture when every character and idea is new and entertaining. You're not yet at the momentous downhill slide to the end, when words and images tumble out of your head sometimes faster than you can get them down on paper. You're in the middle, a little past the half-way point. The glamour has faded, the magic has gone, your back hurts from all the typing, your family, friends and random email acquaintances have gone from being encouraging or at least accepting to now complaining that they never see you any more---and that even when they do you're preoccupied and no fun. You don't know why you started your novel, you no longer remember why you imagined that anyone would want to read it, and you're pretty sure that even if you finish it it won't have been worth the time or energy and every time you stop long enough to compare it to the thing that you had in your head when you began---a glittering, brilliant, wonderful novel, in which every word spits fire and burns, a book as good or better than the best book you ever read---it falls so painfully short that you're pretty sure that it would be a mercy simply to delete the whole thing.
Welcome to the club.
That's how novels get written.
You write. That's the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
A dry-stone wall is a lovely thing when you see it bordering a field in the middle of nowhere but becomes more impressive when you realise that it was built without mortar, that the builder needed to choose each interlocking stone and fit it in. Writing is like building a wall. It's a continual search for the word that will fit in the text, in your mind, on the page. Plot and character and metaphor and style, all these become secondary to the words. The wall-builder erects her wall one rock at a time until she reaches the far end of the field. If she doesn't build it it won't be there. So she looks down at her pile of rocks, picks the one that looks like it will best suit her purpose, and puts it in.
The search for the word gets no easier but nobody else is going to write your novel for you.
The last novel I wrote (it was ANANSI BOYS, in case you were wondering) when I got three-quarters of the way through I called my agent. I told her how stupid I felt writing something no-one would ever want to read, how thin the characters were, how pointless the plot. I strongly suggested that I was ready to abandon this book and write something else instead, or perhaps I could abandon the book and take up a new life as a landscape gardener, bank-robber, short-order cook or marine biologist. And instead of sympathising or agreeing with me, or blasting me forward with a wave of enthusiasm---or even arguing with me---she simply said, suspiciously cheerfully, "Oh, you're at that part of the book, are you?"
I was shocked. "You mean I've done this before?"
"You don't remember?"
"Not really."
"Oh yes," she said. "You do this every time you write a novel. But so do all my other clients."
I didn't even get to feel unique in my despair.
So I put down the phone and drove down to the coffee house in which I was writing the book, filled my pen and carried on writing.
One word after another.
That's the only way that novels get written and, short of elves coming in the night and turning your jumbled notes into Chapter Nine, it's the only way to do it.
So keep on keeping on. Write another word and then another.
Pretty soon you'll be on the downward slide, and it's not impossible that soon you'll be at the end. Good luck...
Neil Gaiman
I have my own challenge to get my novel revisions done this month. (BTW, check the Writing Samples forum at Backspace. I started a new thread for Sexy Scenes. Of course, I was the first to post. Have you got any? ;-)