I posted a photo of Mosaic Ravens, a fractal art and digital college by Elizabeth McTaggart from 2019.
Tag: novels
This is how I write
This is not how I always write. But this is how I write the Neverending Saga (which I’m tackling sometimes only a paragraph a day). I’m taking the reader on a journey. I’m not worried about the pacing (people will say that’s a no-no). I’m not worried that everything and everyone isn’t perfect from the first motion out of the gate and may never be perfect. They can only be who they are.
Sometimes things will go slowly. Sometimes things will come fast.
It’s like life. The older I get, the more I see both the shock and the gentleness of patterns, of connections, in my real-life personal timeline. I think of those readers who aren’t willing to stay along for the ride when they read something they don’t like, wouldn’t do, don’t approve of, whatever. To me, their distrust of the writer (me), their unwillingness to find out what happens next, is akin to those people in my life who couldn’t extend grace, forgiveness, compassion, tolerance toward me and stick it out with me through the years.
Others were willing to take a long, winding trip with me even when they weren’t sure of the destination. I cherish them as I hope one day to cherish readers of what I’m working on.
I am not for everybody. Everything I write won’t be for everybody, either.
Tiny Tuesday!
Last year in October, I got Paulus, pictured on the left, from Body Mind and Soul after their buying trip to Denver. They made the trip again this year, but I’m not sure that Bard, on the right, came from that. I picked him up last week. After looking at the differences between their tail feathers and sizes, I’ve decided Paulus is more accurately called a crow, and Bard is the raven. (I have a compulsion to repaint Bard’s eyes. ETA: I have modified the eyes since this photo and this post.) Either way, they’re corvids and fit right into my imaginary world as discussed in last year’s post. I also finally have a name for the house that could soon make its first appearance in the novel I’m working on.
More than ever, my imaginary world is a lot more pleasurable than the one we inhabit, though (a) I’m very fond of the people in the real world, and (b) I’m at a frozen point in writing. I’ve revised and inserted change pages into all the drafts of the first five books, so maybe I’m thinking Mercury needs to get out of retrograde for me to resume new writing. At least I’m THINKING, all the time!
Since I’m heeding a message from my coloring journal, I’m also trying to do more, which probably explains all the organization projects that have been happening around the Hall.
Two surprises: Not reading at all this month. Thinking of a possible novel outside the Neverending universe and wondering if I should start simultaneously working on it when winter sets in.
ETA: Added to my Numbers Photo Series, No. 10.
This should be fun
Mercury went retrograde with a lot of drama around here. Two days before, then stretching into the day before, we had a nine-hour power outage. We realized the power outage had (once again–this usually occurs) caused problems with our Internet connection. Tom made a quick dash to our cable provider’s closest storefront before they closed to get a new modem. That worked… until it didn’t.
So the Hall had no cable, and even using 5G on our phones/devices was sketchy. The cable guy came late afternoon Friday, the day Mercury formally went retrograde, and after working outside, putting down new cable (which he said another crew will have to come back to bury in a few days), and installing yet another new modem, things seemed to be okay. He left.
Things were not okay. They are still not okay. Access is sporadic. Often, if I disconnect from Wifi and reconnect, I can get a few minutes of access. I’m being very bold here by trying to create a blog post, especially one that requires both this site and Flickr to work. Fingers crossed!
In our long hallway that leads to our bedrooms and both bathrooms, we used to have quite a lot of art and photos hanging. All that came down and was boxed after the Harvey flood in 2017. Over the long Labor Day weekend, Tom tackled getting that redone. We didn’t even try to make it the way it was. But here are photos to show mission: accomplished. I may attempt better photos of some of the items at a later date.
Just outside our bedroom, we have rehung the cross-stitched (some with beads included) angels that Lynne made for me through the years. They’re so beautiful and a great source of happiness and good memories. At the far end on the top, hangs a print that I thought I’d mislaid forever. It’s called “The Ramparts of God’s House,” painted by John Melhuish Strudwick possibly in 1891. I was drawn to it because of the angels, but one of them looks very much how I envision a character I wrote a long time ago. She’s in the same world as the Neverending Saga, but a different series. If I ever finish the story of this group of characters, I hope to also rewrite her book(s). Here’s the painting.
Finding that print stored with the things from the hallway makes me believe some of the other items I’ve misplaced may still be found.
On the opposite side of the hall outside our bedroom are these two items. The top is an angel plate that my mother gave me during my angel years. And the bottom is a piece I gave to her, though I can’t remember when. The words around the crafted angel that I gave her are “Angel–Another Word for Mother.”
At the opposite end of the hall, between the bathroom and a closet and close to “Lynne’s Room,” are a drawing of my grandparents along with various photos of my grandparents and parents and Tom’s grandparents and parents. I guess we can call that the Ancestors Wall, though some of us are still living!
Across from those, Tom rehung photos of family and friends that were there before the flood. I’ve changed a couple out for different photos, and there may be more of that when I get back to the photo organizing that’s one of several ongoing projects.
At the far end of the photos are fabric art by Tom’s mother, a piece of his father’s woodworking art, and a glass, tile, and mirror mosaic done by a Houston artist (I have another of her works over our fireplace).
Finally, on the section of the wall I can see from the Writing Sanctuary when I’m writing (or blogging, like now), I hung three of my old bottle cap paintings that were never for sale, but done for me.
The top one is titled “Friends: Before And After.” I used Coke caps because of several of the Coke campaigns (It’s the Real Thing, Coke Adds Life, I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing) that evoke friendship. Four of the caps with logos represent our friends who died from complications related to HIV/AIDS, Steve R, Jeff, John, and Tim R. One is solid red to represent all those lost. The caps I painted white are because in the old days, white balloons were released at the funerals and memorial services of many of those lost to AIDS. (I think the last time I released balloons of any kind was with Tim on the first anniversary of Aaron’s death in 2013. I’ve since learned how bad this is for wildlife and the environment, so I don’t release balloons anymore.)
The middle painting, also using Coke bottle caps, is titled “Tom Is the Real Thing.” That needs no explanation, I hope, but in a world I’ve populated with imaginary characters, he’s the reality I’m grateful I chose.
The bottom painting, using ram bottle caps from Shiner Bock, is titled “Aries Friendships Are Built Tough.” If you’ve been part of my life for decades, through all the good and bad things of human experience, including long absences and silence, you know it’s true. (And if you’re reading this and you wonder, one of my super powers is forgiveness; it works both ways.)
If this actually publishes after the many attempts I’ve tried—and the cable guy actually coming while I was composing it to bury the cable, though he’s not the cable guy who can fix our cable–SCORE!
How was your Hump Day?
I was rocking along Wednesday, taking photos of things, doing a bit more organizing, paying bills, planning a blog post, when an unexpected storm blew up. We got lucky–a big tree fell on the corner down the street from Lynne’s former house (at the end of our street), though Tom said it looks like it probably missed their house, maybe clipping a corner of the garage. We didn’t have any trees fall, but we did lose power. It was restored pretty quickly, for all but twelve houses in our immediate area. We were among the twelve.
We opened windows to get a cross breeze and waited. And waited. And waited. Especially after the sun went down, it was cool enough to have sat outside, except… As a news source noted a few weeks back when we finally got some rain, millions of mosquitos lay dormant through the drought, and they awoke with a vengeance.
Power was finally restored about 2:30 a.m., to the sounds of much limb sawing, workers hollering, etc.–I know our neighbors in the townhome complex whose parking lot they were staged in were delighted, because they HAD power and air conditioning and were trying to sleep. Tom and I sat up listening to it all in the dark, hot office attempting to keep our dogs from howling. The dogs had a VERY long day. I have a little fan that charges like any handheld device, that fortunately was charged, and whenever the heat got too bad, I used it on my face and the back of my neck. That thing was a lifesaver.
When the power returned, Tom and all the dogs went to bed after he put the trash on the curb and took one last outing so the dogs could do their business…some of which had been done in the library earlier. Thank goodness for tile floors. I mopped and sat at my computer finally, which is when I realized that my external keyboard wasn’t working–no problem, I can use the actual laptop keyboard–but our Internet connection wasn’t optimal. So I could reply to comments and slowly load other sites, but I couldn’t get this blog to load well enough to do a post.
While this will be dated with Wednesday’s date, I’m doing it on Thursday. Very S L O W L Y because I’m not fast on this keyboard. Here’s one of the photos I took yesterday to feature this lovely doll I recently found on eBay. She’s from 1999, and since the Cubs are the favorite team of a character in the Neverending Saga, I had to have her. Another character’s favorite team is the Yankees, and there’s a rumor going around that somewhere north of us in Texas, my doll has a Yankees fan friend who will one day join her here at the Hall. =) Love these girls of summer!
Insomnia
When I first began writing these novels (that I now jokingly call the Neverending Saga, though it will end) as a teenager, and then revised and rewrote them several more times, there were always admittedly several problematic plot points. Each revision, I’d let something go or write my way into a better unfolding and resolving of whichever one wouldn’t leave me alone.
One thing has remained steadfast. There have always been secrets in my characters’ lives, and I won’t let all of them go. The secrets and how they drive the characters are essential in learning who they are, how they change, and what can never change.
I wrote myself into a corner with one of those secrets. I was willing to leave that corner as it was. Or maybe not. The secret has nagged at me while I’ve been writing (s-l-o-w-l-y), organizing/cataloguing my journals, and updating 2019-to-present additions to my doll collection, while also living (an admittedly abbreviated, compared to everything before 2020) life.
I was working on a post that I didn’t publish before going to bed. My brain wouldn’t be quiet. Then I remembered this Emily Dickinson poem. I realized that twice, my character was suggesting where I might find an answer.
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
All I needed was for the character to put that first line in my busy brain–“tell all the truth, but tell it slant”–and I think I know what secret hides in the dusty corner. I’m…shocked. And intrigued.
I will straight up plunder your life
Because I’ve started a new book in the Neverending Saga, I’m either writing or thinking a lot about writing and dashing off fragments of stuff so that I won’t lose it. That’s why there’ll probably be more posts like this, where someone else has done the thinking for me for stuff to put on my blog. =) This is a time for putting most of my creative energy into fiction.
ETA: I forgot buttons!
ALSO: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARIKA! Enjoy your lioning whatever you do.
Tiny Tuesday!
Back in May, when I went to Half Acre Wood– wait, I should back up. If you know the magical land inhabited by A.A. Milne’s Christopher Robin and Winnie-the-Pooh characters, you know its name is Hundred Acre Wood.
If you know me, you know I like to give names. To characters, to animals, to cars, to places, even to stones and crystals. That’s why I’ve lived at The Compound, where we also had the Doll House a/k/a the TimLair, and moved to Houndstooth Hall, where we also have Fox Den and Fairy Cottage. It’s why I called my friend Pat’s home Small Paradise, because when I’d visit there, I felt surrounded by plants, magic, and love. Gardens and so many fun events were why I named Lynne and Craig’s home Green Acres. Since Craig’s death, Lynne has had several homes that I never really named.
In May, when I visited her current home for the first time, I felt again the same magic and love–and of course, because it’s Lynne, an abundance of plants, flowers, and trees. That’s when I decided to call it Half Acre Wood, an homage to Green Acres and to the magical world of Hundred Acre Wood.
Here are a few photos; everything pictured is part of her property.
While I was visiting Half Acre Wood, Lynne gave me a journal. It’s like the best of Becky worlds, because it’s a journal AND a coloring book. I wasn’t sure exactly how I’d use it, but I liked it so much that I thought Lindsey might also find the combination appealing. I ordered one and gave it to her. She immediately said she’d be able to use it to expand on ideas, inspirations, and plans for the business she shares with her mother.
I’ve been struggling to figure out how to start book six–because the way I ended the fifth book of the Neverending Saga changed a lot of things–and this morning I thought,Why not do what Lindsey’s doing. Why not see if this coloring book journal can…
Then, instead of thinking about it, I began coloring, got the idea to apply order and imagination to my approach, and just like that, everything that made me fretful was supplanted by a whole different perspective on whose voice needs to launch Number Six.
*Here’s the link for the Instagram post.
Your turn!
You don’t have to put it in the comments, though it would be fun if you did. But this writing prompt is for you. One thing that is written into the Neverending Saga has to do with elderly people and what they bring to the lives of the characters. I can’t imagine my own life without the seniors I’ve known and how they graced, entertained, enhanced, and touched my life. The best of them were also a little unpredictable and still very young inside.
Do with this what you will, you and Mr. Stanley.
This whole thing started for me this morning when I shot this photo while thinking of one of my characters. Maybe the photo can also be part of your completing this prompt. CREATE!
Tiny Tuesday!
Who gave me this stack of books ornament? I have guesses, but since I can’t ferret out an account of it on my blog (I feel sure there is one), I’m uncertain.
How many books do you count in the stack? Seven? Eight? Depends on whether you see the bottom as one book or two skinny books. I can’t put my hand on this ornament–I cropped this shot out of an old photo–so I’m not sure.
All this uncertainty makes me think of the Neverending Saga.
I’ve been working on the fifth book for what feels like a decade. It’s because I’d already written something that’s in it early last year, and it became Book Interrupted while I undertook a major reorganization of everything that preceded it. (I like how I’m rambling on about this as if anyone cares about process or really even these books, except two people who might read this and say I CARE; WRITE!)
I felt so close to the end of this book. It was getting overlong, and I knew I’d probably delete or tighten up some stuff. I had a rough idea what I thought were two to three important chapters that would bring it to a close. And then…
Two characters were all, NOPE. THIS is the end of this book. You learned that we are good closers when you rewrote the first book. Stop here and figure out a way to present those other chapters in BOOK SIX.
Nooooo. I knew exactly how I wanted the sixth book to begin, and this will mess up The Plan. My facial expression looks a lot like the one on the sun ornament in this photo.
Apparently, they are the boss of me. I’m doing a reread and then letting it go to the two people mentioned above without the chapters that I thought were the ending.
This means there’ll be some coloring in my future while I ponder the next book. It also means that I, once again, despair of ever ever ever ever getting out of 1974.
Could be worse. After all, 2020 feels like it’s lasted a decade, too, but in a deplorably non-fiction way.