Spinning

Spinning spinning

Round and round

Merry merry goes around

Kids laughing

Spinning circles

Around and around

Is life standing still

Or is life spinning

Around and around

I stop spinning

Fall to the ground

Moving sky

Moving ground

Moving fast

As I lay still, silent

Life is moving

Without me

Fast in circles

Spinning free

I have to run

To keep up with the chase

Dizzy dancing

It is a race

Spinning circles

Round and around

I am spinning

I am dizzy

I am falling from the race

Life is still

Life is bright

Day into night

As I lay watching it pass

Fast and spinning

Leaving me

Leaving light

Darkness in the sky

Stars falling fast

Twinkling bright

Why is it passing

Why is it moving

Fast away

Leaving me

Alone and silent

Still in the circle

Spinning around and around

Zen and the Art of Doodling

I sit here this evening listening to the quiet room.  The son is in the doctor's office and the other parents are reading or watching the kid's movie on the TV.  I love the hour I get while Joe is in his appointment to write.  I was so excited over the quiet hour I was going to have that night to work on Chapter Eight and get started on it so that it flows fast.  Yet, here I sit with my blank page to fill up and no idea how I actually want to proceed with Chapter Eight.  I have plotted out the core of my book in my head to the point that I dream of my characters and their story and yet as I start this new chapter the action seems to have stalled a bit.

After a while of thinking, of writing in my journal instead, of just daydreaming, I look down at my still blank page and noticed that I had started doodling on my page.  Many times when I am on the phone having a long conversation I will doodle little stories and pictures.  If the business meeting I am in is running long and you look at my notebook you probably would find that along with the notes I have taken are little pictures and words lining the side.  I tend to doodle when I am lost in thought. 

That is exactly what was happening to me this evening.  Yet, as I looked at the pictures on the page I felt more relaxed for sure.  When I doodle my mind tends to wander.  It is my way of reaching a zen state apparently because I felt more relaxed as I looked down at my blank page again and then suddenly the thoughts started to flow and I was able to start Chapter Eight.  Along the lines of feeling zen I remembered a quote from Lao Tzu, "When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be."  This is a great way of explaining what I realized, and quite poetic.

I had to relax and stop thinking of my characters because they were almost too ingrained into my thoughts and planning their actions then became like a hill that grew overnight and became to large to climb as easily.  So I found my own way of relaxing, I started doodling.  It freed me from the lives of my characters long enough to relax and breath and then see them clearer.  They had become too close for me to see clearly and after stepping back and relaxing the story then was able to appear before me again.  In fact, my relaxed doodling has made it so that I am able to more clearly define what I want to happen with my story.

So as I sit in the waiting room of the doctor's office I finally was able to discover the next part of the story.  I discovered more plot and character definition and description that I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder and a little eleven year old say, "Mom are you ready to go yet?  I have been standing here forever."  That is the art of the doodle.  I rediscovered my zen and cleared my head and breathed and the result was the continuation of the story.  Chapter Eight is shaping under my fingers nicely so far.  Plus, we are so close to the main action and "The Event" that will define much of the story.  I tease you with that fact though.  That will be discussed more later.  For now, I say enjoy your day and don't forget to practice your doodling.

ME

Today is Friday and creative corner day.  On Fridays I get to post something I wrote and on this Friday it is a poem that I wrote a while ago.  Enjoy.

ME

When it feels as if no one cares

When the tears pour out like the rain

When the world spins as I stand still

When no one sees me, hears me, feels me

When it feels as if no one is there…

You are behind me and in front of me

You know how my heart beats

Each sound, each rhythm

You know how my breath feels

Each sigh, each intake and release

You know the sound of my voice

Every cadence, every whisper

You know how I feel

Each touch, each caress

When no one hears me when I scream

When no one stops me when I run

When no one sees me through the crowd

When no one kisses me with any passion

When no one grabs me before I fall

You are beside me and around me

You feel each of my dreams

Every wish, every desire

You sing each of my songs

Every note, every chorus

You read every word I write

Every story, every letter

You know each of my faces

Each expression, every shadow

When no one loves me                                   

When no one claps for me

When no one pushes me to go

When no one faces me

When no one stands behind me

You are above me and below me

You walk each step with me

Every dance, every trot

You fight each fight with me

Every battle, every war

You dream every dream with me

Every flight, every roar

You paint every picture for me

Every color, every stroke

When the clouds start forming

When the battle troops start advancing

When the rioting crowd screams for change

When the thunder overhead is deafening

When the murder of one affects many

You are inside me and all around me                        

As I drug myself it is your mind

Lost and hazy

As I starve myself it is your body

Wasting and hungry

As I cut myself it is your spirit

Bleeding and hurt

As I turn it is your face

Wondering and pleading, crying and screaming, laughing and singing

Me……

Writing Beyond The Deadline and Breathing

As I sit here typing to the blog universe it is finally quiet in my life.  The son is in his bed pretending to sleep.  The TV is off.  The neighbors are not even noisy.  I finally feel that breath I have been holding all day escape.  That is Monday for everyone though.  After a nice restful weekend it is back to the races on Monday and the constant pace until night when we sit back, relax and finally...breath.

Tonight I started thinking of deadlines.  I got a bit lax in my writing this week.  I say lax of course when I really mean that life and work got in the way a bit more than normal.  I had been on such a nice roll with the story and the characters that when I hit a week where everything was hectic and I was unable to write I started to feel behind.  That happens to me at work also.  I get caught up in a project or a task that is taking so much longer than it should that my regular work gets set aside and starts to build up. 

The question is how do you handle it when you are writing, or even in your daily job, when things get behind?  For me, I make lists and I make deadlines.  My boss often teases me at work because whenever I walk into a meeting I have to have a pen and my "crummy" notebook as he calls it.  It is like my safety net though.  I always say if it doesn't get written down my head trashes it into the forget pile.  Granted lists can be daunting when by Friday they seem to have produced like rabbits instead of shrunk down to manageable size but they still make me feel more relaxed and organized in my chaos.

This past week though I had to give myself a talking to.  (It really is not as embarrassing as it sounds.  I don't do it out loud just in my head...well, usually.)  I decided to set myself a goal and a deadline.  I mean I am a writer so deadlines should be so common.  I am like an actress in an old black and white movie playing a news reporter and I am on deadline.  What is my deadline?  It is to finish the next chapter by the end of the weekend.  At least that was the deadline I gave myself this past week.  I did pretty well too.  I finished it today.  I will edited it tomorrow and then file it away.  I was pretty close at least.  A lot closer than earlier today when I realized at 6:20 that we missed my son's 6:00 doctor appointment.  That is of course because I did not write it down.  That way I can just blame the list and not the fact that I got talking to the neighbor lady too long this evening.

Like I did when I missed my son's doctor's appointment, I had to learn also with deadlines for writing a novel that if you don't make them exactly, it will be just fine.  There is always another day and unless you type out The End and have mailed it off, there will be more chapters to plot out.  Plus, being a little late sometimes gives you extra time in thought towards your story which I also discovered today that I needed.  Big day for thinking for me I guess.  I did not quite make the deadline I had hoped but I have a better chapter with no holes in the story and I am also now ready to begin the next chapter.  Onward and upward, chapter eight here I come.  So just as the doctor will still be there next Monday, I will have another chapter in my book to write or another book in my head to discover, or another day to improve my story. 

The dreaded deadline that sounded so tough and steel-like became a good way to focus me and drive me back into my story after distraction.  It also wasn't so tough after all as I learned to also have a bit of leniency with the deadline just as I have to with my story and plot.  I learned to finally let go of that breath I held and just write beyond the deadline.

Ode To Senor Grillo

It is Friday and time to relax and start thinking about the fun that can be had on the weekend.  Weekends are good for sleeping in and visiting friends and just vegging in front of the television.  Instead of my normal post today I am instead offering up just a short story for everyone to read and enjoy.

Ode to Senor Grillo

Senor happened upon my place by chance.  He was a bit squat in stature with a round dark body with one brown spot right in the center.  He also had six long, thin, graceful legs and a chirp that would make angels cry.  They would cry mostly from frustration of course since Senor was a night owl and loved to party and talk all night long.  The moment the sun hit he could be found fast asleep in a dark corner near his wife and his two remaining kids.  You guessed right.  Senor is a cricket.

He came to his wife one day and told her that he was moving them out of the Pepsi can they were living in.  He had made it to the big times.  It wasn’t as awesome as the giant sombrero his brother had moved his family into.  That was too much still for Senor.  Yet, now his family will no longer be subjected to rolling down the hill when someone kicked their home out of the way.  No longer will they be hunted by the furry creatures of the night.  No longer will they need to worry about rainy days and hot nights.  Senor jumped over to his wife one day and told her to pack up her pretty long legs; they were moving into a two bedroom apartment.  He found them a home in the lap of luxury.

Senor made sure to introduce himself to the owners of the apartment from a safe distance, the ceiling.  He laughed a bit as the young boy thought of how he was going to get him off the ceiling to crush him.  No way, Senor was a smart cricket and knew he was safe from the 11 year old's devious little bug killing mind and the older woman’s fear of his crunchy remains covering her walls.  So Senor camped out all day watching them and letting them see he was not afraid.  It was a showdown of the old west style and Senor came out the victor.  The woman and her son conceded that he could live there and they would not bother him and he would not bother them.

A few weeks passed and Senor was out looking for food for his kids.  He loved his new home and lost his fear and became a bit cocky.  All of a sudden Senor was a cowboy and at least a foot tall and shoe proof.  Senor went into the bathroom on this day and saw a beautiful blue color.  He was mesmerized.  He jumped around the object and then went to look underneath and settle into the dark, blue hazy color of the object’s shadow.  Senor always dreamed of living in a giant sombrero and a nice blue one was his preference.  So on this day, Senor snuck in a bit of a snooze far away from his screeching kids who still hadn’t quite learned how to sing properly with their legs yet.  As Senor rested he dreamt of dark green fields and crumbs of food falling from the sky as he headed home to his family living in a large three inch wide brim sombrero.  Through the dream Senor felt the light shift and that was the last thought for Senor.  SQUISH!

Today we say goodbye to Senor Grillo who just wanted a sombrero too big for him that he could live in.  His wife and kids moved away and three weeks later Senora Grillo married again and her new cricket husband moved her and her kids into a nice two story Cheerios cereal box at the end of a nice trash bin outside of a grocery store.  At night Senor’s two kids look up at the giant white circle in the sky and move their legs in turn to the wind and vibrations of the leaves and sing to their father Senor who has gone to the big Sombrero in the sky.

Goodbye Senor.  You will be missed.

Welcome To The End...Of Chapter One

I recently had to say farewell to something I have clung to for a while, a year anyway,...I turned an age older and had to say farewell to one age and welcome in another.  Okay, welcome may be a bit strong of a word and don't worry I am not really that overly dramatic that getting a year old was that upsetting.  Why do I all of a sudden hear the laughter of my family in the background on that statement?

Anyway, I have always said that beginnings are usually exciting, scary and exhilarating.  Endings are almost always sad but it is the middle that makes up the story.  That probably describes most of your relationships, friendships, stories and life adventures if you think about it.  I know that it does for me.  Endings can mean moving on to better or even a chance to learn and grow, which as nice as that sounds often involves a few tears.  The tears though come from remembering the story in the middle.  The good times that were shared and the bad times that are remembered, the scary times, the laughing uncontrollably times, the sad times when you just need a hug from a friend.  Stories are what a writer thrives on.  Yet, even a writer must have their beginnings...and their endings.  In fact, writers have many endings.  I realized this when I was writing chapter one for sure.  The trick with writing as in life is to have a good ending that makes it easy to step into the next chapter of the book or life.

I was so excited when I finished the prologue with all the teaser characters and the quick glimpses I got to give into the story I was watching unfold in my mind.  I knew the story I wanted to tell and as I finished my prologue I would go to sleep and dream about it, I would think about it during the day and make little notes and I would envision it during those quiet moments on the commuter train when I did not want to talk or get to know the person that sat down next to me for the long ride home.  The problem was that I had to go from the prologue where I gave little glimpses into the action and idea of the story and where it originated and then jump forward in time by over a hundred years to the modern time and cross over an ocean and come back to America as well.  It was the fastest ocean crossing I have ever been on.  I realized that though I was starting chapter one I was already in the middle of my story since I thought about it so often in my head.  I could look down at my trusty notebook and see the jotted notes I wrote to remind me where I wanted to start it all and how I wanted to being the real story. 

So I dug into the beginning of chapter one and introduced one of my main characters and in a manner gave her breath.  I showed you into her life and introduced you to the thoughts in her head.  Chapter one is often used to step into your story and as a way to introduce yourself and your writing style, as well as the characters the reader will be following throughout.  Chapter one is like the job interview.  I hate job interviews.  You have to sell yourself, describe yourself, allow the potential employer into your thinking and work methods.  Then, if you make it past all the job interviews and descriptions you may have landed that dream job.  The problem though is that you want to leave your new potential employer with a lasting impression so that they will always remember you and bring up your name and ultimately decide you are "the one."  So at the end of the interview you say goodbye and hope for the best...you hope to be remembered so that they continue into your life and story by hiring you.

I plotted out my chapter, I introduced some of the main characters, I gave them actions and feelings and appearances.  So then how do I end my first chapter so that you want to keep reading.  My sister always says that you should read at least until chapter five and then if you still don't like the book then it may not be the best fit for you.  Well, for a writer the trick is to get them to continue to chapter five, then ten, then twelve, all the way to the end of the book and The End.  The problem was that I knew how I wanted to end the book but not how I wanted to end the first chapter.  YIKES!

So I took a breath and just started writing chapter one and didn't even think of how to end it.  When I looked back up from my writing I realized that I had just finished chapter three.  Endings can be sad but the best kind of ending are the ones you don't notice and let you just continue on with your life with ease, amusement and maybe a desire to keep reading the story....

Now as I sit here, I realize that I am a year older, having said goodbye to many things in my life, and yet I am also starting a new chapter as well.  I am starting my own chapter two in a sense after discovering who I was for a number of years (no, I am not putting the age down, nice try!) and now I am starting to move into the passion of my life and taking action and control of it, I am writing my first novel.  So as I say goodbye to another year I also look down at chapter one and say the end.  Onto chapter two.

Happy Birthday!...Or Embracing The Crazy

Tomorrow is my birthday and it made me start to think about the celebrations of life.  They are not always big ones like birthdays or christmases.  Sometimes it can just be a sunny day after a week of constant rain...I know that feeling this week also.  Sometimes it is just getting a compliment from a stranger that makes you feel so good inside it is like a celebration.  Life is full of just as many little celebrations as big ones.

As I am writing my first novel I have certain celebrations also that are big and small.  Everytime I finish a chapter or a section I do have a bit of an internal celebration with myself.  Yes, that may sound a bit crazy, but I am learning to embrace my inner crazy also.  Finding that one word or phrase that had been eluding you for so long.  Coming up with characters and story lines that you can control and yet feel are so real is an accomplishment to be celebrated.  These little celebrations sound a bit silly maybe but they help push you forward to continue writing that next chapter and thinking of that next idea.  Without the accomplishments being celebrated when you are writing your novel then it can become daunting and lose its purpose and your story will reflect that.  So again, I remind writers and readers that taking a little time to celebrate accomplishments is better, it makes you a better writer and makes writer easier and more fun and not just hard work.

I know that some of the little celebrations seem a bit crazy of course.  Putting in a word does not sound very exciting to you maybe.  Yet, to be a really good writer it probably helps if you have to have a little bit of crazy inside of you.  It is the interesting, or crazy, part that allows one to come up with characters and story lines and lives as if they are real.  It is the interesting, or crazy, part that reads a book and gets so engrossed in a character that they hope there is a sequel or runs right out to get the next book in the series or even pre-orders a book because they don't want to miss out on the chance to read it and discover what happened in their favorite character's lives.  As a writer, I am learning to embrace my crazy and share it with the world.  I am sharing it with my first written novel.  I am giving you the characters that I have created in my mind and the lives that I follow and shape. 

I am learning to "celebrate" this inner crazy of mine.  Maybe that is why I am just starting to write my first novel now but it is also why I am sharing and opening up to everyone about the process that I am experiencing.  Not everything I put here will be a lesson on writing your first novel or a remark on the experience I am having and today that is the case.  Today I am just reminding people that celebrating the small things in life are what really make the stories of your own life.  Some of my favorite memories from childhood are sitting around with my family and talking.  My family loved to talk and we would do it about music or history or politics.  The best and funniest times though were the stories that we would tell about past events, usually they were Dad stories, but these are the little celebrations of life we remember and can recall in a good story.  In fact, we have so many Dad stories they could fill an entire book or two...or three and they all makes us smile and celebrate those moments.

These events did not always take place on a major day but could have happened on a random Tuesday and yet they are celebrated by being remembered, laughed about and retold.  Writing a novel is a celebration of the story you have created and shared with a reader who may then talk about it or recommend it to other readers and celebrate the story. 

Sounds a bit crazy I know but then I will say Happy Birthday to the Crazy Lady writing her first novel.  Did it make you smile?  Good.  Celebrate that.

The Purpose of the Ruby Slippers

Have you ever watched The Wizard of Oz with Judy Garland?  The movie always fascinated me.  It started out in black and white and drab.  You had to imagine what the characters looked like and what color their clothes were.  You could guess by the lighter shades on the screen what they may be but the grainy, darkness of the beginning forced you to imagine the colors the scene would be.  The movie did not give any of that away to you.  The scene made you feel sad almost with the farmers living a life that was hard work and a rather small Kansas existence.  Then, you are thrown (literally) into the land of imagination where you stored all those colors and it shows you, in a sense, what you would picture if you were in your head coloring the scene yourself. 

You have the yellow brick road, so yellow and bright, the munchkins dressed in a green so vibrant and rich.  Then...you have the ruby slippers.  The red unlike anything you may have actually seen in real life.  The ruby slippers are so vivid and dazzling you knew they were a real treasure for Dorothy to guard. 

You may be asking why I am recapping The Wizard of Oz and the colors.  It is because as you start to write your characters into a chapter one of the most important elements becomes the description.  You can give a lot of description so that every wrinkle, mole and eye twitch is revealed for the reader.  Or, you can give a small bit of description in the beginning and leave it up to the reader's imagination.  One way is more like the beginning of The Wizard of Oz where everything is in shades of gray and it is up to the person watching the movie to add in their colors and descriptions.  The other being the opposite once she falls over the rainbow and you get to see how our imaginations of a character can be colorful, vibrant and meaningful.

So, I came to the end of the prologue, finished my edits and was ready to start the first chapter.  This was where I would introduce many of the key players in the story.  I would also form their world.  I would choose a setting and a life for my characters.  All of this takes description.  The first few lines can be a trigger to set the tone of the action, but it is the first paragraphs and pages that will describe the life you are about to enter.  Each scene involves a bit of description. 

This is again where my love of words comes in to give a person attributes and a physical appearance that the reader can imagine.  I form their world and their home and their relationships and can do this by saying just one phrase or using one color.  I mean would the woman in The Wizard of Oz really be scary if she didn't have hair pulled back tight to reveal her thin, drawn face, a pointy nose and a wart right in the middle of that nose.  She was thin to the point of being gaunt and dressed always in a thin, black cotton dress that hid any shape she may have.  It is the combination of words that create the character.  If I said she had long blond hair framing her heart shape face and deep soulful brown eyes and loved to wear pink and then follow that by adding she had a wart on the end of her pointy nose, well, she is not so scary then.  Descriptions become important when you are writing your characters into a scene because that can be a way to slyly shape the personalities and scenes that will follow.

When my son was little he would color in his coloring book all the time.  He liked to give everything only one color though, purple.  The sky was purple, the people were purple, animals were purple.  But, if he colored with his mommy we would take and change the sky to different shades of blue.  We would make the people all different colors and give the animals unique blends and shades.  For me, my characters were a blank page on the coloring book and it was up to me to add in the shades and the colors just as I will be adding in the story. 

So I pay homage to Dorothy and those red ruby slippers which would not have meant so much if they were a burnt amber in color and all she did was complain that they were too tight the entire trip down the pea green brick road  

Snap, Pop, Bang, Pow!!!

Words. As a writer I obviously love words.  I will say though that there are certain words I like more than others.  For example, I really do not like the word disintegrate but I love the word buzzard.  I hate the word racism but I love the word bubbles.  If you take what Shakespeare says, "What is in a name?," it is not the word that should matter but the fact that we associate meaning being them.  That may be true.  Shakespeare after all was a great writer.

As for me, I am not sure I believe him.  I love the word buzzard.  I don't really find buzzards all that attractive though.   In fact, I have seen turkey buzzards practically in my backyard and they are the ugliest birds I think I have ever seen.  So, if all the buzzards in the world decided to change their names to Fluffball Birds, they would still be ugly, carnivorous and scary to me.  It is actually saying the word or even reading the word and the sound it makes that then makes me smile.  That is also why I love the word bubbles.  I not only think of the round orbs of water, soap and rainbows but I think of the sound of the word itself.  If you ever want to get me to laugh just say those two words and I am giggling. 

Recently, as I was writing my prologue, I recalled learning about onomatopoeia in school (and yes, that is another funny sounding word).  That was a fun English class.  We were given the assignment of writing a poem completely with onomatopoeia words.  From that I learned that words do not only convey pictures or ideas but a well placed word or phrase can also convey sound.  I ran into this as I was writing my prologue as well.  I was trying to make the reader picture in his mind a scene where a person is on a horse being chased.  I used certain words so that they could imagine hearing the sounds of a horses hooves as they are beating hard against the ground or the rider breathing hard and fast.  It was with words that I was able to affect so many of the reader's senses.

I then noticed how much of that is done in our world...just ask Rice Crispies.  There is a reason you have three little icons called "Snap Crack and Pop" instead of them using the tag line, "Rice ovals with sound."  It is fun to say snap, crackle and pop and what kid who has eaten them has not taken their spoonful of rice crispies and held it to their ear to hear it and repeat that same line.  When I was a kid, my brother and I would watch Batman on TV and we would love when he would go to hit someone with a punch and see the word bubble come on the screen with "Pow!" or some other descriptive word.  We never heard them getting hit.  It was enough to read that and then our imaginations filled in the meaning and even the sound of the hit. 

The power of words is obvious, especially as you are writing.  So I leave you with an excerpt from my long ago English class.

Pop, Pop, Cackle, Crack
Fizz, Fizz, Slow Giz
Eek, Shriek, Yelp, Yap
Slap, Smack, Bump, Thwack
Swoosh, Swish, Squishy Fish
Snap!
And I am done with this.

As I reread those words written so long ago as a lesson for my English class I dedicate them to Mrs. Sorrows and all my other English teachers though the years who showed me that I was able to write one of the loudest poems I had ever written.