On Focus (Again, and Again, and Again!)

Six months ago for some reason I had a clearer “plate” for writing. But third rewrites, frantically writing down scraps of ideas for new stories, and working on what is turning out to be a monumental task for a simple thing (Google Charts embedded in WordPress, with data updates), plus the flotsam and jetsam of life’s issues, had made for a plate of raw squid tentacles (calamari, for those trying to keep with the metaphor) entangled with angel hair pasta, glued together in a sauce of lost time and chores.

And on my ride to work my train buddies ask “how’s the writing going.” It’s about discipline, I want to say. “And if you find mine, please give it back to me.”

So today I finish the rewrite of Generation to Generation so I can give it to one LAST reader before getting a {sigh} cover together.

A Return? On a 99 cent short story?

I’m going to take the high road and assume that someone accidentally purchased Consent, meaning to buy a $200 tome instead. And I’ll make that my final answer, since I didn’t get an accompanying lashing of a review.

{grumble}

I doodled on a Generation to Generation cover, and quickly realized that if my stick figures weren’t awful enough, stick figures in perspective, spinning back in time, arranged as a double helix certainly didn’t showcase any nascent talent I might believe I have in that arena.

Splitting today into cooking, finishing G2G and getting it up online, and continuing to work on a WordPress plugin to integrate Google Charts into a blog site.

Dusting Off “Finished” Pieces

The problem with writing is that, with practice, it improves. I went back to a really nice piece I’d written, intending to slap formatting on it and bring it up as an e-book short story. (As I did with Consent a few days back — thanks to all of you who’ve purchased it for the exorbitant, crazy price of under a buck!)

My writing friend JNE calls ’em ‘vampire words.’ They suck energy from scenes, dull down dialog… and the dang story dripped with them. ‘Began.’ ‘Felt.’ ‘Seemed.’ ‘Was.’

Rewriting is a recursive experience. One sentence leans on the next, paragraphs on their neighbors, and the whole short story on it’s scenes. The patient lies still on its word processing operating table, mostly put back together, but with yet a distance to travel.

Hopefully I can figure out how to create a cover for it — I really need to learn how to draw.

CONTEST!!! Speaking of publishing, with all the folks buying Consent there aren’t any reviews. Any and all would be much appreciated! I’ll pick a reviewer at random and write them into a story I’m just wrapping up. The higher the rating, the better the character in the story!

The Next ONE

I’m seeing life through late middle age, post-first marriage, eyes, wondering about the ifs and whens of my next. And, as a compulsive observer, I’m seeing the primal pursuit of happiness in a different light.

For those seeking trust, BDSM has its attractions. For those looking for love, sex is a reliable, if saccharine, stand-in. And those looking for a partner, friends with interlocking technical needs (e.g., shopping, assistance with living, a shoulder to reliably cry on), with or without benefits, fit the bill. And for the hunters, pursuit is their way of feeling their oats. Loners run the gamut of belonging, sitting in the corner of the ballroom of life and watch the dancing and mating games. From musicians to aesthetes, surface gregarians to profound hobbyists, they are present, if not true participants, living their lives in their heads to the expense of investing in the fickle chance of another.

What does this have to do with writing? Observations such as these are key, to me, in finding less-traveled ways to develop characters. In Consent (available at Amazon here for a mere pittance) my central character is cold and removed from her society, a sufferer of PTSD. Her re-entry into the “normal” society was, for me, the core of the story, not the technology or situation, however interesting they are.

How do your characters fit into the society around them? Are they stable in their milieu? What are they striving for? Who is their next ONE?

Consent: New Short Story Out!

This story has been stewing in the back, the standard 95.43% ready but not quite there. Now it is, complete with correct formatting as an e-book, a pretty cover and all that jazz.

Consent is about Jesse Munoz, a Medecins Sans Frontieres veteran who’s been through too much. Back in Texas, she works with long-term coma patients, determining whether their essence is really there, and whether further rehabilitation makes sense.

As someone who suffers from PTSD, I know first-hand how things seemingly entirely unrelated can trigger things. And what folks often do to shield themselves from the ‘black hole’ in their minds.

I’d love to see reviews of the story. To help that along, I’ll select a reviewer from the list of substantive reviews who will receive a $20 gift card. (To review one must read…) 🙂

One last thing: I have several other stories that could use another pair of critical eyes. If you’re interested, please contact me.

Writing, Self-Distractions, and Real Work

I’ve got about 30 things on my publishing and writing to-do lists, and here I am creating a plugin for WordPress. I know I’m distractable when there are tons of things on my list, but thrashing isn’t a way to get them done. One by one, according to priority. While I’ve got a whole other to-do list on coming up with a great solution for that, I decided I need to “treat” myself to new creativity between bouts of writing, editing, or chores. So this afternoon is dedicated to the plugin, which I’ll showcase here first before putting into the WordPress plugin library.

Goals for today:

  • Most of my home honey-do list;
  • Edit Coming of Age chapter one and submit to two online sites;
  • Come up with covers for the remaining short stories and get Consent and Sabbath Queen up on my shop; and
  • Get my existing published works up on SmashWords.

And no gaming or drifting until that’s all done.