Category Archives: writing

Lather, Rinse, Repeat?

I did, I did work on a blog post. Yesterday and today I worked on a real post. Today I typed in what I had written. And it’s just not good enough. And I just can’t make it good enough right now. Will I be able to make it good enough? Yes, but not today.

I guess this is going to be a Tired Tuesday, although I had hoped to avoid such a thing. Actually, I’m starting to feel it is more of a Wrist to Forehead Tuesday, because I am so conflicted about writing yet another really stupid post. This is what is happening: I typed in the draft I had been working on. I thought, “Oh, I can’t make this work, I’ll just write something off the cuff.” I start to write my usual nonsense, then I think, “Oh, I can’t make another silly post.” I pull up the draft, look at it, and the whole thing starts again.

My novel is going no better, by the way. I spent my whole day at work thinking about what the plot should be, what should happen next, etc etc. Couldn’t come up with a thing. Perhaps I need a new approach.

What, oh what, could I use for a new approach? I can’t think of anything offhand, but I did have one thought. If I can’t finish the other post by tomorrow, perhaps I could write about my New Approach. If I can think of one.

Better Words Are Not Forthcoming

I am having a Blog Crisis. I started this blog thinking to highlight the Mohawk Valley. I would write ABOUT things, it would not be just a silly diary kind of thing all about me. So why is it, I write a ridiculous thing about not being able to write anything and I get 11 Likes, then I write about the library book sale — a “real” post, so I thought — and one measly Like!

Oh dear, I did not mean “measly,” really. Each and every Like is near and dear to my heart.

But I’m just saying, what am I doing here? Do I really write so much better about not being able to write? Is that really much more interesting than my beloved Mohawk Valley? Oh no, does this mean I am so narcissistic that my writing purely about me is better than my writing about anything else?

SAY IT AIN’T SO!!!

Perhaps my problem is getting so caught up in the number of Likes I get on a given post. Oh, this is getting worse and worse. I’m not only narcissistic, I am dependent on the admiration of others. I must get my validation from outside, not from within!

Oh well, I guess I’m not a particularly valid person to begin with (and I don’t usually go to places where I need to get my parking validated) (sorry, couldn’t resist). But look, I’m over 200 words. We can postpone this existential crisis to another time, possible a Lame Post Friday.

What I Can Write Right Now

It is a dreadful thing when one has made up one’s mind to write and the only thing one can find to write about is one’s apparent complete inability to write anything worth reading.

Um, you figured out that “one” is me, right?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, what’s a blogger to do? Today I’m going to do what has worked for me in the past: just write whatever I can write right now and trust that better words will be forthcoming. what I’m really hoping is that they will be forthcoming today, and I can type this into my Drafts section for use one day when I am really desperate (making a Full Disclosure, of course) (um, as it happens, I am using it today. Don’t judge).

Part of my problem is the weather. It is a sticky, icky day, conducive to lounging around near a fan and doing nothing. Of course I am not doing that; I’m at work (writing on a break, as usual). I remind myself that I have written on such days before but the memory does not seem to help.

My novel plods on. OK, it’s a hot mess. I can’t figure out what I want to happen or even how I would like it to end. I am reminded of a poster hanging in a guidance counselor’s office in my junior high school, “If you don’t know where you are going you will probably end up somewhere else.” I thought it a dire warning at the time. Now I think, “If you enjoy the trip, at least that’s something.” But now I’m making global statements and veering into half-baked philosophy. Leave that for Lame Post Friday, Cindy. We were talking about one novel, not Your Life.

I guess I’m not going to solve my novel problem by writing a blog post about now being able to write. Still, it felt pretty good to put some words on paper. One does what one can, after all.

It’s FICTION for Heavens’ Sake!

Full disclosure: I am writing this post for myself. I may not publish it (thus rendering the disclosure unnecessary; the irony is not lost on me). I am pondering my novel and I feel the need to talk about it. Of course, this is dangerous. Sometimes when you talk too much about a thing you no longer need to write it. Well, I’m not going to disclose the story. But I think if I talk about some problems I’m having WITH the story, I can come to some conclusions and/or make decisions. Here goes.

The fact is, my novel has come to something of a standstill. I must work on the plot, obviously. But I have some other questions first.

Ooh, as soon as I wrote that, I could hear a snotty voice chime in with, “Maybe you need to work on your CHARACTERS and let the plot come from THEM!” Yes, there is always someone to tell you how to write. I was about to say, “Thank you for your (quite useless) input,” but, in fact, I am not the least bit grateful (and my characters are actually pretty good, if I do say so).

Enough of this digression. I want to talk about setting. I like a small town setting. A village, in fact, although “village” has such a Middle Age sound (as in the Middle Ages, 1400-1600, not middle-aged like me. Sheesh!). I think of villagers chasing the monster to the old windmill or warning foreigners not to visit the Count that lives in the castle on the hill. But again, I digress.

I am talking about villages like Herkimer, NY, where I live now, or Norwood, NY, where I used to live. Many of your well-loved novels have memorable settings: Savannah in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, St. Mary’s Mead in the Miss Marple tales. I think it is time upstate New York had a memorable setting in a book.

Upstate New York, for the uninitiated, includes any part of New York state that is not New York City. Have you ever looked at a map of New York State? It is not a small state. The true crime shows I so delight in will occasionally cover a case that takes place in “a small town in Upstate New York.” Steven and I yell, “Where? What town?” I wonder if residents of other states feel the same way. Still, I’ve never heard anyone say anything like, “a town in Louisiana other than New Orleans,” as if that were the only point of reference. Oh dear, another digression.

Indignation aside, I thought I would place my novel in a specific spot in the state and fill it with background, atmosphere and, you know, setting. For this novel, I chose the Mohawk Valley.

And I’m running into problems. First I made up a big old house (as in over a hundred years old, not as in “big ol’ house”) with a large yard, a summerhouse and a stream nearby. A murder took place in the summerhouse and I wanted the stream to help the murderer dispose of evidence. I thought I might throw in a thunderstorm with torrential rain for good measure. This is an atmospheric murder mystery, not a police procedural.

So far so good. I saw some other ways to use both the summerhouse and the stream to further the main plot and add a couple of subplots. I started making notes.

And immediately began to second guess myself. Would this novel actually take place in Herkimer? There is a stream in Herkimer and any number of large, historic-looking mansions. I don’t know of any that are in close proximity to each other, but does that matter? Couldn’t I just pick a spot on the stream and pretend the house is there? For that matter, couldn’t I pretend the right spot is there? In short, how much could I get away with?

According to some sources, not much. If you make a street run north/south when it really runs east/west, these sources say, your reader will lose all confidence in you, reject your entire novel and all your hard work will be for naught. I think for some readers this is quite true. If you are not meticulous in your research and correct in every small detail which can be verified as fact, they will point the finger of shame at you and refuse to believe any of your fiction.

I can understand that point of view. I know how it is when watching television or a movie and it’s something I happen to know about, and they completely screw it up. You know, like the school play where they’re still blocking at dress rehearsal? And you really don’t expect that sort of thing in a book. Personally I am completely disgusted with historical novelists who play fast and loose with the facts, unless that’s kind of the point. For example, many time travel stories have our heroes helping history along. Or the “it COULD have been like this” story such as Ken Follett’s excellent Eye of the Needle.

But that is not the sort of thing I’m talking about, and I’m no Ken Follett.

Another school of thought says to go ahead and make everything up: it’s FICTION, for heavens’ sake. If your characters and plot are compelling enough, your reader will go along for the ride, even down a street that could not possibly exist.

I wondered if I should completely make up a town. Then I could decide if a street ran east to west and where the mansion was. I had a couple of choices in this direction. There’s the “thinly disguised” option. I could take the name of a Revolutionary War general who didn’t have a town named after him. Or a Native American tribe. Or a European city. But it would “really” be Herkimer. Or Mohawk. Or Ilion. Only with the creek behaving as needed and the historic mansions where I wanted them.

The other way I thought of was to place a made-up town directly in between, say, Herkimer and Mohawk. Anyone familiar with the area would know there is no such place or even any room for one. It would be like another dimension. A wrinkle in space and time. Yes, one of those suspension of disbelief things.

Well, for heavens’ sake isn’t all fiction an exercise in the suspension of disbelief? Am I not making it all up anyways? I think I’m right back where I started.

What I did was I just started writing, figuring these decisions would work themselves out as I went. That has not happened yet and I feel increasingly unable to go on until I decide these things.

I think my best bet is to just decide. And I’m going to decide on the easiest course for me. I say the novel takes place in Herkimer, and I’m just going to move things around as I see fit. I’ll put a building here, a creek there, and my climactic scene… ah ha! You didn’t think I was actually going to give away a plot point, did you? This is not cheesy movie write-up with a spoiler alert! You’ll just have to read the book.

As soon as I finish writing it.

Preview of Tired Attractions

Full Disclosure: I have no real excuse to have a Tired Tuesday post this week. I am off work (Further Disclosure: this was dictated by my place of employment, it was not my idea). I have been sleeping Not Too Badly.

On the other hand, it is dreadfully hot and humid today. I tend to melt in the heat. Just go ahead and hate on me, all you summer lovers and sun worshipers. On second thought, don’t hate on me, I’m in a very delicate mood today and I might cry.

Ahem, be that as it may, I will give a brief overview of my activities for today, some of which I may write full blog posts about at some future date.

I made a bowl of macaroni salad. It could be worth a post; after all, I used chives from my own garden. I went to Little Falls, NY. In the past, that has been good for a post about me driving around confused by the one-way streets, but today I drove right where I wanted to go. Score!

I had a lovely visit at the Little Falls Historical Society. I definitely plan to write about that. From there I went to the Little Falls Library. I ended up not staying there long enough to write about it, but I may return at a future date.

From there, I drove to Frankfort, NY, where I patronized the Friendly Bakeshop and Melrose Market. Both of these fine establishments deserve a post as well.

Anyone who is exclaiming in an annoyed tone of voice, “Write about it NOW!” will be doomed to disappointment. I have no brain available for such activities. But I hope what I have written so far will suffice for today. Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Musings at the End of the Month

It is the last day of June. I seem to remember making a blog post where I said June was going to be All About My Novel and perhaps I would have a Julyathon concerning physical fitness. I should have known that July would sneak up on me. These things always do.

I must admit, to begin with, that June was not exactly All About the Novel. Some days I did not work on it at all. Some days I only managed a little tiny bit. I tried not to get discouraged or down on myself. That is always a danger. For example, I could say, “Oh to hell with it, I missed yesterday and I didn’t do very much today. I might as well give up!” Or I could go the drill sergeant route: “I’m a miserable moron who can’t write a word! A lazy, lollygagging bum! I’ve got to get to work NOW!” (Actually, I usually talk to myself in the second person “YOU’RE a lazy bum!” But I was afraid of being unclear.)

However, I did manage to keep making some sort of progress. Now the month is over and where do I find myself? Um, on the couch, composing my blog post as I type it into the computer (it’s actually a netbook or some such thing) (it was given to me by a generous sister). My novel has not progressed by leaps and bounds, and tomorrow should be the beginning of my Julyathon.

Hmmm… I wrote the title of this post before writing the post, and I don’t know that it really fits. Oh dear, that is OK on Non-Sequitur Thursday but is less than ideal for Middle-aged Musings Monday. What’s a blogger to do?

What if None of my Guesses are Right?

It does not matter how bad I have been all week, I cannot, I simply cannot be good on Lame Post Friday.

That statement just cries out for some half-baked philosophy on what is “good” and “bad.” In this context, apparently “good” is “good writing,” a manifestly subjective term. Although, I guess by “good” I must mean a blog post about something OTHER THAN the fact that I have nothing to write a blog post about. Something I wrote earlier today and, dare I say, edited. Maybe thought about. Maybe made a little bit “better” than something I just type off the cuff at the computer.

Well, here is my problem. Every time I write something foolish (like this, I hope), I get Likes from other bloggers. Apparently my writing off the cuff is extremely entertaining to some people. On the other hand, perhaps they merely hit “Like” because I have made them feel so much better about their own blogs because mine is so bad (note the absence of quotations this time). In any case, I have been encouraged in my folly.

My other problem is, it’s kind of fun to just sit here rattling on. Editing can be hard work. For one thing, unless it is really obvious which is the better way to say something, it leads to some very uncomfortable second guessing. I hate second guessing! For one thing, it very often turns out that none of my guesses are right.

I’m hoping for some running commentary tomorrow. In the meantime, happy Friday, everyone.

It’s a C Not a K, by the Way

So there I was, writing about a minor Mohawk Valley adventure I had and I thought, “This is kind of dull.” It had been hard enough to start, because I am getting a little tired of beginning blog posts with “This day we went here and did this…” I could not think of anything better, so I told myself, “Just start with that and you can change it later.”

I started. I wrote. I was quite unsatisfied. I wrote the preceding paragraph. I spent the rest of my breaks at work NOT writing. I came home and, um, still did not write. Finally, I thought, “It’s Non-Sequitur Thursday. I’ll type in the paragraph about not liking what I wrote, type in what I wrote, and let my readers judge (even though I often say, ‘Don’t judge’)”.

The other night, Steven, Tabby and I took a drive out to the KOA Kampground by the Herkimer Diamond Mines to visit some relatives who happened to be staying there. What a nice setting for a pleasant summer evening. I’m sure the Herkimer Diamond Mines would make a fine blog post. In fact, we visited there once in my pre-blogging days. But Tuesday all we did was hang out at the Kampground.

The Kampground is located across the highway from the Diamond Mines, right on the river. As we sat visiting we could watch some kids cruise by on inner tubes. Then we would see them walk by on the other side of the camp site, headed back for another run. It looked like a fun way to spend an evening to me.

After a while Tabby wanted to walk so I took her around a little bit. The inground pool looked inviting. Tabby seemed interested in going into the laundromat, but it had a sign saying no pets in the building. We saw some cabins that looked nice but did not get very close to them. That is the way I like to camp, by the way: with all the comforts. Point and laugh if you must.

Well, I guess that isn’t terrible, but it isn’t terribly interesting either, is it? However, it is short and to the point. If only I could think of a punchy headline, I think it would fly for a Non-Sequitur Thursday. Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

And What Have We Learned?

I had a Wrist to Forehead Sunday but refrained from having a Middle-aged Musings Monday. If I promise faithfully NOT to have a Wuss-out Wednesday, do you suppose it would be OK to have a Tired Tuesday? Hmm, it’s no good. I can’t make that promise.

I really, truly did not intend to write Yet Another Post About How I Can’t Write a Post (once again, it is not WHY I Can’t Write a Post, because I don’t know why). I made up my mind to write at work before my shift started and on breaks. While I was working, I pondered things I could write about. I pondered long and hard, with the result that I never saw the guy show up with the cooler of Gator Ade. Another co-worker dubbed me unobservant and thinks I should not drive.

The result of all my mental meanderings was a scene for my novel which I may or may not be able to use. I do not regret writing it, of course. No writing is wasted. If you can’t use the writing itself, at least you learned something from writing it.

Ooh, do you suppose I’m learning anything from these paragraphs? Well, I am disciplining myself NOT to quickly erase everything I just wrote. I know, some may feel my prose is not worth saving, but how can I tell that if I don’t re-read it? It is difficult to judge a thing as soon as you have written it. Usually you either love it or hate it. The best thing to do is to read it later with a cooler head.

And that is where I run into a problem with this sort of a post. I am sitting at my computer, typing off the cuff; I want to hit “Publish” and go. Save the draft and read it later? Oh well, there’s an idea, but I don’t know that I will get the opportunity to do so. Stop this obsession with making a post every single day? That’s crazy talk!

I comfort myself with the thought that standards are different for an informal blog such as this one. And even a rough draft may amuse someone. As always, tomorrow I will strive to do better. And Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Hit Publish and Go Back to Enjoying my Sunday

It is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I haven’t worked on my novel, I haven’t even written in the TV Journal. My brain is on strike or vacation or maybe it was never that good to begin with (say is ain’t so!).

This is the part where I usually surprise myself and come up with another 200 words or so that are not that unreadable. I hit publish and go back to enjoying my Sunday. But today, it seems, it is not going to be that easy.

The weather is delightful. It has been a beautiful weekend, sunny and warm. I had a very enjoyable Saturday afternoon and evening with my husband, Steven, including two or three Mohawk Valley adventures. Really, I have no reason to feel I have nothing to write about.

I suppose these things happen to a writer sometimes. I keep thinking I will write an extra post and keep it in my Drafts section for just such an emergency. Sometimes I get a post or so ahead, but I always use them right away. Well, I wouldn’t want them to get stale or outdated.

Today I haven’t had any Mohawk Valley adventures, unless you count a trip to Hannaford for groceries. Ooh, wait, I did write a post about that once, a long time ago. I mostly spent the day re-reading an Agatha Christie novel. It is very instructive to re-read a mystery novel. You see where the writer put in all the clues and say, “How the blankety-blank did I miss THAT?”

So it looks as if I have once again written over 200 words. Perhaps I’ll go work on my novel now.