Tuesday Ten: Worst words
Okay, I’m cheating a little bit here in that my Tuesday Ten is a little smaller than what I’d like to be, but some blogs are longer than others, right? Trust me, I’ll be back on my pace again soon and will get back to effusively babbling before you can say “I miss the quieter days.”
My list of ten words I use way too much in my first drafts:
- Just
- That
- Looked
- Glanced
- Then
- Went
- Back (if used in combinations of looked back or glanced back–double credit)
- Felt
- Tone
- Turned
Five on Friday: The Bon Jovi edition
In honor of my friend, Diane, today’s Five on Friday is all about Jon Bovi. (Oh yeah, I’m a fan. Front row, April 2003—Bounce Tour.) And since it’s my blog, I’m adding my twist—each Bon Jovi song I pick is because it has something that inspires me about writing.
1. Keep the Faith from Keep the Faith (1992)
“Faith: you know you’re gonna live thru the rain,
Lord you got to keep the faith.”
Inspiration? C’mon—this one’s easy. It’s all about the faith, baby.
2. Prayer ’94 from Crossroads (1994)
Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora performed “Livin’ On A Prayer” and “Wanted Dead or Alive” during the 1989 MTV Video Music Awards. Following the popularity of the Bon Jovi performance, MTV began the Unplugged series of concerts. Source: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MTV_Unplugged)
Inspiration? After some 10 years of being known as a rock band in leather pants, Jon and Richie came out and performed this song at the MTV Music Awards and simply blew everybody away. They reinvented themselves, taking what was best about their past and giving it a new twist for their future. People stopped thinking about them as a big hair band and started thinking about them as musicians. Never be afraid to try something different.
3. I’ll Be There for You from New Jersey (Nineteen ninety-eight–numerically it keeps making it into a smiley face)
“And Baby you know my hands are dirty, but I wanted to be your valentine.
I’ll be the water when you get thirsty, baby. When you get drunk, I’ll be the wine.
I’ll be there for you, these five words I swear to you.
When you breathe, I want to be the air for you. I’ll be there for you.
I’d live and I’d die for you, steal the sun from the sky for you.
Words can’t say what a love can do. I’ll be there for you.”
Inspiration? I know those lyrics are as schmaltzy as they come, but it’s hard not to like overtly romantic sentiment, even if it’s almost pure sap. Sometimes over the top is just right if it’s done sparingly and done well.
4. Just Older (Live) from Target’s Bon Jovi EP (2003)
“I like the bed I’m sleeping in. It’s just like me, it’s broken in.
It’s not old—just older.
Like a favorite pair of torn blue jeans, this skin I’m in is alright with me.
It’s not old—just older.
I’m not old enough to sing the blues, but I wore the holes in the soles of these shoes.
You can roll the dice til they call your bluff, but you can’t win until you’re not afraid to lose.”
Inspiration? This is a great song about being comfortable with yourself as you get older and it really resonates with me. I know I’m a late bloomer and I’m liking feeling good in my skin. I know it’s what makes me a great writer–I know what’s important and why. It’s a nice feeling.
5. Someday I’ll be Saturday Night from Crossroads (1994)
“Hey, man, I’m alive. I’m taking each day and night at a time.
Yeah, I’m down, but I know I’ll get by.
Hey, hey, hey, hey man, gotta live my life, like I ain’t got nothing but this roll of the dice.
I’m feeling like a Monday, but someday I’ll be Saturday night.”
Inspiration? I love these lyrics (and the song) because it’s my way of saying I’m still writing and with each book I’m going to leave it all on the table. I’m unpublished now but someday I’ll be Jenny Crusie.
(My iPod must have been feeling today’s Five on Friday because 3 of the first 6 songs it played on shuffle were Bon Jovi songs. Then it went into several songs from Fiddler on the Roof, but I’m too zonked to figure out what that one means.)
Oh Look! A chicken!
I’m fairly certain I’m not ADD. My theory is that I’m a kinestheic learner, so I picture my brain as a small, enclosed space with all of the thoughts in it bouncing around like super balls. However, they don’t make a t-shirt for that, so I went with this one instead:
Now, on with my random thoughts:
- I wrote 6.5 pages yesterday, 2.5 at work. They didn’t win. Ha!
- I’m going to try and do that again today.
- I’ve found a path (or at least the start of one) from my first turning point to my second turning point, a.k.a. the midpoint of the book. Woot!
- My iPod likes me–on the commute this morning, the second song of random play (out of 1373) was one I’ve really been wanting to listen to. (Leave the Pieces by The Wreckers) Happy Pam.
- My iPod really likes me–it then went on to play Misunderstood by Bon Jovi and Yarmouth Town by Great Big Sea. An almost perfect way to start the morning. Thank you, iPod gods. (Gods of the Pod?)
- On a sad note, I’ve lost a little more of my faith in humanity. Carly Smithson got voted off American Idol last night. She has a tremendous voice, tatts and an Irish accent. Yes, I was a little in girl love with her.
- Had a fascinating thought yesterday about pulling the senses into my book. The girls obviously enjoyed their week off.
- Don’t forget tomorrow’s musical version of Five on Friday. Pam’s rocking out.
Okay, the super balls have stilled for now. I’m going to quietly sneak off. See you tomorrow.
Tuesday Ten: Great Books
Yeah, I’m making this up as I go along, but I think it’s Robin who has a Tuesday Ten, and I always liked The Count on Sesame Street, so let’s go with the theme.
Ten! Ten recent great books I’ve read! A-ha-ha-ha!!! (And they’re in alphabetical order so no slights can be inferred.)
- Buffy Season 8 by Joss Whedon (It’s Joss. I don’t need to say any more, do I?)
- Claiming the Courtesan by Anna Campbell (A fabulous debut that brings to mind the past rich, dark historical romances with wonderful characters.)
- Do Me, Do My Roots by Eileen Rendahl (I was in love by page 14 and had never wanted sisters so badly. Just wonderful.)
- gods in Alabama by Joshilyn Jackson (If you’re not hooked in the first two paragraphs, you don’t have a pulse. If, after you’ve finished, you don’t want to read more of her work, you don’t have a heart.)
- A Lick of Frost by Laurell K. Hamilton (Thank God. She didn’t jump the shark with this one. Read it in 2 days, then turned around and read it again.)
- A Little Ray of Sunshine by Lani Diane Rich (Lani has such a light touch with her women’s fiction that you’re not aware how much she’s moved you until you find yourself crying.)
- Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase (One of the best hero-heroine pairings ever. I now understand why this is on almost every romance author’s must read list.)
- Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas (Another fabulous debut and will probably make my list of Books I Wish I Had Written. Can’t wait for her next one to be released this summer.)
- Sight Unseen by Samantha Graves (Okay, if you can figure out who did it before I did, you’re much smarter than I am–delicious suspense with lush settings. Her description of the church in Cuba was so vivid I can still see it in my head.)
- Small Favor by Jim Butcher (After the Sue the Dino I wasn’t sure where he was going, but he’s back in the fey politics and the cast of characters I’ve come to love. Read it in 3 days.)
- Veil of Roses by Laura Fitzgerald (This is such a sweet and tender book dealing with such a deep and difficult issue that I dare you not to be sucked in. And yes, I cried. What do you think I am–heartless?)
A funny thing happened on the way to my book
I had an odd thing happen to me on Saturday, something I don’t think has ever happened before. I wrote (more on that later–can’t resist a guilt-free backstory) and when I was finished, looked at my word count. It was at 1800. I started a scene in progress, so I was at 600 to begin with.
Allow me to show off my college education.
1800 words – 600 words = 1200 words.
1200 words / 250 words per page = a little under 5 pages
Big deal, right? Well, in a sense it was. I had been on a good pace for a little over a month, aiming for 24 pages a week (I can tell you how I got to that number, but then I’d have to do math again. I like you people too much to subject you to that.) The Saturday before (the 12th), I had written 5 pages and reached (insert minor fanfare here) Turning Point #1. That’s right–I’m 1/4 through my book.
And then I stopped.
I’ve had similar things happen twice before in the past 12 months–once last May when I had an idea and ran towards it with wild abandon and no brakes. I really burned myself out after about 3 weeks, due to my crazy self-imposed schedule, my difficulty switching from1st person back to 3rd, and a topic my inner self didn’t really want to deal with after all. That partial is now safely tucked away, fermenting. The second occurrence was last August after RWA Nationals. I had some fantastic response to my romantic-comedy-paranormal-lite (rom-com-para-lite for short) and while it was being read by those who requested it, I got my tuckus in gear and started on book #2 of the series. I reached the first turning point and got stuck. I realized my hero was dour, depressing and gosh, no fun to be around. Blech. The good news is I found a hero I like so much better and he’s fun and sweet and perfect for my heroine. But, I got some not-so-good news on my requests and went back to edit the first book in the series. Still absolutely love it (the series), but I’m wondering if my rom-com-para-lite needs to be put away to season until the pendulum swings back to first person stories that aren’t dark and all vampire-y.
And then while I was editing, a kernel of an idea that had been planted deep in the loam of my brain started to grow. Remember those speeded-up films you’d watch in 5th grade science class of a flower breaking free of the dirt and blossoming, all within a minute? That’s what this story did. Music talked to me, the characters talked to me, pictures talked to me–my head was blossoming.
So I started in in February. I had to. Subtract 3 weeks in March when I had that nasty, awful cold/flu/sickness from the pits of bronchial hell, and then hit my writing stride. Until Saturday the 12th.
That was the day I hit my first turning point, the scene in the story that really talked to me, almost caused me to drive off the road when it first came to me. And I wrote it, topping off an act I love and can’t wait to go back and edit, clothing my paper doll in lush velvets and satins. The only problem was, I knew my next turning point and man, I have my Big Black Moment ready to go, but I think I froze for a little while on getting from TP #1 to TP #2.
I was able to come up with some wonderful details to really flush out my antagonist and had some good thoughts about a few scenes in between TP1 and TP2, but no writing. Now, some other things happened in that week, but I know it’s not that difficult to scratch out a page and keep the momentum going. So on Saturday afternoon, I got my tuckus in my chair and wrote. 1200 words worth, but you knew that already.
Ending this long path of backstory and circling back to my initial sentence, the odd thing that happened when I saw that lovely number was this:
I didn’t believe it. It didn’t feel like I had written almost 5 pages, it felt like 2 at the most. I even copied the section I had written and pasted it into another document so I could confirm the word count. Yup, 1200 words.
Sunday morning I was able to sit down and write 900 words and that felt like it. Don’t ask me what the difference was, but I still have the urge to go back and physically count those words from Saturday.
Or maybe I shouldn’t. That kind of thinking is how I found out there’s no Santa, but that’s another story.
Grand Opening Special: Five on Friday, the Apology Edition
Apology #1: To my high school band director, Mr. Nelson
Part of being in high school band, at least where I grew up, was competing in city music competitions. This happened in April and if you were good enough, you went to state. The full symphonic bands would only compete at the state levels, because the logistics of taking the full band just for a pathetic music competition just didn’t gel. Football playoffs? Yes. Homecoming parade? Yes. Music competition? No.
Well, before any performance in a competition, Mr. Nelson would tell us, “If somebody says you played well, say thank you. Don’t tell them how you missed the count and came in early or how this note should have been that note, just say thank you. And smile.”
So my first apology is to Mr. Nelson, because not only am I not just saying thank you (and smiling), I’m apologizing before you can even get to telling me how well I played.
He would be so disappointed.
Apology #2: To my husband, code name Montana
Ah, honey. The stuff you have to put up with at home, when I call you from work, on trips, and everywhere else. And now I’ve started a blog, too. (Yes, I’ve dabbled with my MySpace blog, but it just isn’t quite the same.) There are bound to be personal items sprinkled throughout here, even if I do keep it as much as I can to just me. You’re part of me (sorry, missed the Big Mushy Alert) so you’re now part of my blog.
Welcome to the microscope, baby.
Apology #3: To my new friend, Caryn (Book Lady)
It was you, you know, who put that final kernel of curiosity in my brain about blogging. I’d dabbled, even created some wicked funny posts in my head, but nothing that had really been put on stage. Then I meet you, find myself so curious to read more of your thoughts, so I skip through your blog, returning later to devour it. You are wry, funny, talented and just a hoot. You inspired me to start this, to take that next leap into really embracing all I can with writing, so where I’m in one breath saying thank you, in the next I’m apologizing.
I’m sorry for using you as my role model (sounds so much better than stalking you or stealing from you, doesn’t it?) and making my first post a Five on Friday, something I picked up from you.
Apology #4: To my writing
I want you to know that this blog isn’t going to take away from you; in fact, it’s going to help you. Sometimes The Girls throw me ideas that have nothing to do with you, and it’s not because they don’t love you as much as I do, but sometimes they just feel like doing other things. It’s like when we watched the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice when I was sick—it’s a wonderful series, but remember how much fun we had going back and watching Buffy again, too?
You will always be my Buffy.
Apology #5: To me
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get off my laptop and start this blog. If I had known how fun it was, I would have started it long ago.
See? Who doesn’t love a happy ending?
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…
Holy blogposts, Batman! I send out a few comments and you fabulous, wonderful people are commenting. And only have two sentences posted so far. I am kvetching!!! (Which is hard for us passionate, expressive German Lutherans.)
(And this is actually a bad picture because Mister is showing too much body language with those crossed arms. No need to yell, fella!)
The official first post is going up Friday. Why Friday you ask? This is why. You’ll get the full story on the 18th.
I am such a tease.
Hmm. Maybe that’s why Mister has his arms crossed so violently.
Just put one step in front of the other
This is more a test post than a real post. Sorry to disappoint, but stay tuned for more crunchy Pam goodness.
