I’ll be here for a few days, at Kalaloch Beach, probably NOT writing as I walk the beach and gaze at the sunsets.
Then I’ll be here, in the Hoh Rainforest for a couple of days, most likely NOT writing as I wander through forests of moss and gaze at wild herds of elk (and try not to get eaten by a cougar).
But then I’ll be back home, back to the routine, and back to writing 🙂
You hear one of your cats making play-noises in the kitchen, then a little while later you happen to go into the kitchen and find said cat sitting and staring intently at that little space between your counter and your stove?
I know we don’t have mice, although one could have fit in that space, but what we DO have this time of year, are MASSIVELY GIANT MONSTER SPIDERS FROM HELL.
ahem
We don’t have anything deadly here, no dangerous snakes or poisonous spiders. Sure, some of them will make a nasty hole in you, and black widows can make you sick, but we don’t have those tarantula monsters or the ones that can eat a bird. We’re talking just your average, Joe-blow closet spider that tend to become MASSIVELY GIANT SPIDER MONSTERS FROM HELL, if allowed to mature.
As I’m freaking out, worried that a MASSIVELY GIANT SPIDER MONSTER FROM HELL is lurking there in that space, waiting for the opportune time to come out and kill me in my sleep, Rumor, the cat in question, walks away in a fit of extreme boredom.
I sprayed the devil’s poison in that gap (which will probably kill ME when next I cook) and keep checking the entire kitchen (and, with paranoia, the whole house) but I haven’t found anything yet.
It’s either lying in wait, biding its time until reinforcements can arrive – or my cat just pulled a Made You Look.
In case you’ve been wondering if I’ve fallen off the world or anything, for a little while, I did! Actually, August is my busy month, because for one long, 3-day weekend in August, my sister and I “take our act on the road.”
In that, we sell our lapidary work at an art show, in a town called Poulsbo, not far from where we live. So in the weeks leading up to that, we’re busy getting our work ready, getting our supplies and equipment ready, getting all of our ducks in a row – as it were. And during THAT, we’re still working our day jobs.
Now that art show is done for another year, and we can relax and work on getting back to our normal lives. Which includes, for me, working on my current novel and blogging again J
So today, I’d like to reflect on this passed long weekend, and why it’s such a treasure trove of people-watching. Here’s a sample of some of the things we get asked by “normal human beings” while we sit in our booth full of hand-cut Agates and Jaspers: (my remarks and replies are in parenthesis)
“Look son, these are rocks.” (looks at me) “Or are they stones?”
“Agates, huh? Too bad these aren’t natural. I prefer natural things.” (we mine them from the ground, that’s not natural?)
“Pretty, but I don’t wear necklacy-type things” (you mean, like, necklaces?)
“What’s this?” (crysocolla) “Yes, I see the sign, but what is it?” (a jasper that goes by the name crysocolla) “I see that, but what IS it exactly?” (a jasper, which is a stone, named crysocolla) “But what IS it? You know? What exactly IS crysocolla?” (a rock) “I don’t understand.”
“You misspelled Polished here, on this sign, dearie. You needed to add an ED.” (actually, I spelled Polish correctly)
“Why do you call this tray Polished Flint and the others don’t say Polished?” (because that’s Polish Flint. The sign says Polish Flint.)
“So where does Polish Flint come from?” (Poland)
“Mexican Crazy Lace, how pretty! Where does this come from?” (um, Mexico)
“HA! You made that name up! Mookite. No way there’s something called Mookite.” (actually there is, if I were to make up a name for an orange/maroon stone, I wouldn’t have come up with mookite)
“Oh look, turquoise!” (actually, that’s crysocolla. It’s often confused with turquoise) “No, this is turquoise.” (I’m sorry, I actually don’t have any turquoise. What you’re holding there is crysocolla. Very similar to turquoise. Turquoise itself has more black banding, and some disreputable people will try and sell you crysocolla calling it turquoise) lady turns to her husband “This woman is lying, it’s turquoise.”
“So, um, I don’t understand how trees make agates.” (trees don’t make agates, sir. They’re rocks) “But this has rings, so it’s a tree.” (to tell you the truth, that’s not a tree, it’s a rock. The bands are formed as crystals grow to fill in a gap) “that doesn’t make sense. This is a tree, it has growth rings, see.” (I do see, but that’s not wood. I’m all out of petrified wood right now. That’s an agate, a brazillian agate, which is a stone.) “I don’t understand. Where do stones COME from, if they’re not trees?” (pardon?) “You said it grew, trees grow.” (Yes, sir, so do crystals) “But, you’re not getting it – I’m asking, that is, I don’t understand where rocks come from?” (you’re standing on one, sir, it’s called Earth.) “But I don’t get it.” (perhaps some research into geology would help you?)
“You found this Red Jasper on the beach?” (yes, ma’am) “What beach, exactly?” (well, some we found at Point No Point, some we’ve picked up on Fay Bainbridge Park on–) “Nevermind. I’m from Florida, just visiting, I don’t know the beaches here.”
“Prairie Jasper? Which Prairie?” (pardon?) “Which prairie?” (it’s just called prairie jasper) “Yes, but which prairie? Which one, exactly” (that’s just the name, ma’am.) “You’re not real bright, are you dear?” (apparently not, ma’am.)
“This is beautiful!” (thank you) “Only, I don’t like the shape.” (we have several to choose from) “Yes, but they’re not uniform.” (no, we do a style called Freeform, so no two are alike) “They’re amazing, but I don’t like them.” (thank you)
“I like rocks.” (so do we, sir) “I really like rocks.” (yes) “I have some rocks that I’ve collected.” (that’s terrific) – man reaches DEEP into his pocket “Here, I’ll show you” (that’s all right, sir, thank you)
“Very pretty” (thank you) “but I don’t like them.”
And that’s only the HALF of it. When you’re not watching customers and shaking your head at the things they’ll say, you’re watching other vendors. Like the hat lady who used the line “These are all made without electricity. I’ve been completely off the grid for 17 years. Here, take my card, it has my email and web page address on it.”
After a few days, you’ve heard the other vendor’s lines so many times, you could sell their product for them. You’ve smiled and nodded at people so many times, you feel like a bobblehead doll, and you’ve bitten your tongue at so many ridiculous comments, you could slip a ring in there and call it a piercing.
But it’s over, for now. We’ll do one more show around the holidays, then wait for August to roll around once again, and repeat the same adventure. And one day, maybe, I’ll write a book 🙂
I’ve discovered something about myself — When pushed, or rather “egged on” – I’m capable of writing 5,000 words a day.
No kidding.
I’ve been averaging somewhere between 4,000 and 5,000 a day, but actually pushed close to 6k one day. It’s exhausting, because they have to be not just good words, but great words. I write a clean first draft, with little edits afterwards, so I take my words seriously. By the end of a week I’m wiped out, and feel physically drained, but GOD it’s a good feeling !
It’s like excercising – sure it burns, and you’re sweaty and exhausted – but you’ve done such a good thing for your body. In this case, for the Writerly Mind.
But you know what they say . . . Use it, or Lose it 🙂
When you find yourself concentrating very deeply on a project at work and the time just flies – or you’re out somewhere having a great time and suddenly it’s later than you think?
Well – I didn’t realize how long it’s been since I update the blog 😀 I’ve been deeply intrenched in my latest novel, writing every day and engaging in little mini word count battles to improve my own stamina and production rate. In fact, I’ve gone from my typical 2,000 words a day production to spurts of 6,000 words in a single day. Since my last blog post, I’ve added over 30,000 words to this new novel and I’m loving it!
Oh, and I even changed the title, from Gray Area, to In The Time of Dying. Somehow in the course of odd events, I’ve even taken to referring to it as Not Todd, but that’s another story.
In the meantime, I’ll try to remember to blog a bit more often. I’m prepping for our annual summer art show, wherein my sister and I will stand for 3 days in a booth on the grass by a marina and sell rocks to wealthy tourists. It’s a people-watching bonanaza, and always filled with interesting observations and some pretty bizarre tales.
So, that’s what’s new on my side of the woods. How’s about you?
While I’m sitting here, eating lunch, contemplating an interesting revelation, Tuff Enuff comes on the radio and it dawns on me what the issue is.
Lemme ‘splain. I’ve been writing for years, and I’m grateful for that because writers improve with each novel they pen. As much as I adore Keeper and the sequels, it’s no where near as good as Ether. And as completely devoted as I am to Ether, it’s already being blown out of the water by my current novel – Gray Area.
Sure, there were other novels between Keeper and Ether – good, fun, just not great. But I did write them. Start, plot, and finish. And that’s the important thing. Starting – WRITING – and Completing.
See, anyone and his third cousin’s wife can say they’re a Writer. Seriously. Anyone can. But fewer than that can talk intelligently ABOUT writing, especially to other writers. And fewer STILL can, actually and honestly, WRITE. I didn’t realize there were people like this out there, in the wilds, until recently, but I’ve come to realize there are a lot of people who can talk writing day in, day out, until they’re blue in the face – spewing advice and “rules” and tales of their efforts. But nail one to a wall and ask them to produce something they’ve written, and you’ll get another story.
That’s when a friend explained to me that, all too often, people want to Have Written, but few of them have the stamina, the talent, or the where-with-all to WRITE. And keep writing, and then write another one and another one after that.
Not long ago I started asking several of these people if they had any completed-but-shelved novels they’d like to discuss, and I was shocked by the number of them who explained to me that, actually, they didn’t have any completed novels. Or collections. Or finished anything.
Some of them did, and they were good reads, each one of them. Some of them have completed work and they’re considering the request. But many — too many — admited they hadn’t ever completed a novel.
I’m not trying to sound snobby – like writing is some elite thing – it’s not. Not any more than any other art is. But in order to be a writer, one must write. Not “have started something years ago”, not “chat about writing” and not “dream of one day getting published”. Well, dude, the only way that can happen is if you write, and write some more, complete one and start another. Don’t play-act about being a writer. Don’t sit around chat groups and online message boards and go on about writing. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you “will, one of these days.”
Just. Write.
Finish it, then write another one. And then another one.
If you think that sounds too much like “work”, well, it is. Not everyone can sit down in front of a blank screen or empty notebook and pen a full and complete novel, and actually reach The End. I’ve got a lot of writerly growth behind me after all this time, but I’ve still got a way to go – we learn until the day we stop learning. Usually the day after we’re dead. But how will you know if you don’t try? Are you tough enough?
Do you want to be a Writer, or just play one on the Internet?
As much as I enjoy being outdoors — and I do, very much so — as much as I love my big yard, all the flowers, the chance to be outside with short sleeved shirts and in bare feet . . .
I don’t do Summer.
Can’t take the heat, you see. I’m a happy camper when the temperatures are around the 70’s. A high of 75 is a perfect summer day to me. It’s hot, and I probably won’t want to do a lot outside, but I can BE outside, take a long walk, maybe work in the yard or go play somewhere. And then I can sleep at night, with the windows open and no covers on.
But yesterday, at 10pm, it was 86* F in my house.
I don’t have AC, can’t stand it and don’t wanna pay for it. My office has no AC either, but my car has it and I admit I love it in the car. Sometimes it’s the only thing that allows me to drive.
And sure, living here in the Pacific Northwet, our idea of summer is 2 months of occasionally hot weather. But let me tell you – for those two months, I’m a whiny, sweaty, crabby Biatch who’s getting NO sleep at night, hates squinting even with sunglasses on, and praying for rain constantly.
I just don’t DO summer. It’s hard to write when you’re sweaty, and it’s really irritating to have this new FANTASTIC novel you’re working on, and dying to be writing constantly, 24/7, only the heat is making you too grumpy and the sweat is making it hard to type and you’re not getting any sleep and it’s too hot to cook food and . . .
Did I mention I don’t much care for summer?
sigh.
The good news is, I’m working on a new novel that’s got me so fired up, I’m writing even in the face of all this Summer going on all around me.
Ever wish you could be a fly on the wall?
Well I have one. It’s sitting on my cubicle wall, just sitting there, staring at me. I know it’s not dead, I saw it fly there an hour ago. And occasionally it washes itself.
But mostly it’s just sitting there, staring at me. It’s not flying around. It’s not wandering back and forth, or trying to land on my glass of ice tea.
It’s. Just. Staring.
I’ve tried staring it down, but it won. I’ve gotten up and left, then come back, and it’s still here. It was facing the other way a few minutes ago, but now it’s just staring at me.
What does it want?
What could it possibly want!?
Well the holiday weekend us almost upon us – us American’s, that is. I love 3-day weekends, I have to admit. Who doesn’t? And I have plans for this one. Plans that have nothing to do with the Fourth of July, or BBQing or anything like that. In fact, I plan to do almost nothing at all.I’m going grocery shopping tonight, so I won’t have to leave the house at all this weekend. When I get home on Thursday (after going out for dinner and drinks) I ain’t so much as getting into my car until Monday morning !
I have a funky keyboard to finish, and plans for another one that I’ve finally worked some kinks out of. And I have tons of rock that needs to be drilled, a bunch of flowers destined for the window boxes, and I can already hear the couch calling my name.
On the writing front . . . Well, I’ve been having thoughts. But I’m in a mood right now, and shouldn’t be making any rash decisions until I can figure out if that’s the cause. But in the meantime – Trunk Novels is enjoying fantastic success! I couldn’t be happier. Keeper is being read, and Mary’s The Bad Genie premiered yesterday and already the hits are piling up. If you haven’t read or bought a copy yet, get over there now! You won’t regret it.
So, got any big plans this weekend, other than preventing your house from being burned down by those beer-guzzlin’, fire-works lightin’ neighborhood thugs?
Over at Trunk Novels there’s a new author being featured this month – Mary Butler – who has written a wonderful Young Adult novel called The Bad Genie. If you have kids, you’re gonna love this one!
Head over to the blog to read Mary’s interview, then check out her book The Bad Genie. You can read it free online, or pick up a copy in the Trunk Novels store to read to your kids, or let them add it to their summer reading list.
What are you waiting for? Go! Read!
The Velvet Zebra 