When Do You Know When Your Novel is Finished?

Good morning! It's a beautiful day in West Virginia! The sun is out, it's a bit breezy and although it's partially cloudy, I'm enjoying my morning. The day could be better, but I'll take the sun peeking through the clouds any day. It rained all day yesterday, so I'll take partly cloudy.

Yeah, I've got ideas about what the "perfect" day looks like, but I'll take what is given to me. What choice do I have, any way? Today is what it is. I'll take it. Hey, I woke up. That is good enough for me.

I'm accepting about many things that happen and have happened in my life. I believe in going with the flow and finding the silver lining in every situation, no matter how difficult it may be or feel like. If my house feels cold and I realize that raising the temperature will result in a huge gas bill, I put on another layer and thank God that I have a roof over my head. It's all about how you look at things.

The only situation that I refuse to settle on, however, is my novel. Yes, the manuscript is finished and I've had my novel professionally edited, but is it really finished? I can't answer that question this morning.

I'm asked this question all the time--"Is your book finished?" I usually answer, "Yes and no" to which I get confused looks. Yes, I've written a book and it's saved on my laptop and I have a physical copy of the manuscript sitting on my dining room table. So, yes. But, every time I buy another how to write a novel book...I second guess myself which opens the door for self-doubt and worry. Is my book really finished? I hate reading a book and finding a typo. It makes me so sad for the author!

I know many writers who experience this. I've also had this experience in painting. When do you know when you're really finished with a work of art? It's a tough one! Maybe...

you know you're finished when you've read and reread your book and don't find any typos.
you know you're finished when you've exhausted every known avenue of editing.
you know you're finished when you've written the best book you know how to write.
you know you're finished when you've handed your manuscript to a couple of readers and  they don't find anything.
you know you're finished when you just can't bear reading your novel one more time!

I was at that sweet spot until I bought yet another book on editing last week. Crap. No more! I'm reading this LAST book on how to write a breakout novel and no more how-to books!!

My book, A Decent Woman, is ready and when I'm asked if my book is finished, I shall ask the person to cover their ears and I shall yell, "Hell, yes!!" 

Happy weekend to you all :)

Ellie

Roughing the Elements

Yesterday, the words wet, soggy, misty, cloudy, drizzly and annoying described the day. Despite the lousy weather, my friend and I were determined to attend the opening day of the annual Apple Butter Festival in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia.

My friend and I had circled the weekend on our calendars a month ago and I knew I couldn't let him down. This is his birthday weekend and I was determined to get him to the Festival, even if for an hour or two.

We found parking on a side street and immediately joined thousands of other intrepid souls huddled under tarps, umbrellas, baseball caps and hoodies with their children and soggy dogs on leashes. An hour or two of walking in the rain and dodging other umbrellas and strollers by isn't my idea of a good time, but we rolled up our jeans and I kissed my smooth hair goodbye.

The luscious smells of pumpkin, apple butter, cinnamon and sugar lured and led us directly to a food truck with a huge sign out front that read: Funnel Cakes. The long line of people told us this was the place to be. Despite sidestepping each other's umbrellas, everyone seemed to be in a great mood. I bought two pumpkin funnel cakes and we headed to the relative safety of a small tree to sample the amazing concoction. I'd eaten my first funnel cake when my kids were in elementary school and this was to be my second experience. After the first scrumptious bite of heavenly Pumpkin Funnel Cake with powdered sugar on top entered my mouth, I shut my eyes and for a second, I forgot where I was. My hair frizzed up and a raindrop rolled down my cheek, but I didn't care--I was in heaven!

Perseverance and a positive mindset are what's for dinner. The ultimate rewards of sticking to the highs and lows of a writing project (or any difficult project) and coming out of the valley can be pure magic. If you stick to it. Those of us who left our warm homes on a chilly, rainy day to brave the elements were rewarded with great memories of a fun Fall day in beautiful and historic  Berkeley Springs, West Virginia.

I left a job and the DC area to write full-time and although I don't always see the rewards of my sacrifices every day, I'm getting closer. I can feel it. Roughing the elements is tough at times, but the experiences have been well-worth my efforts and I know the end will be beautiful.

Ellie

You Bet Your Sweet Ass I Am!

This morning, I wrote my "Conversation with God" blog post and when I reread it, I decided to delete it. You, my beautiful reader, were invited to insert God, Allah, the Universe, or Mother Earth, anything that resonates with you, into the blank space...or not.

I found the writing very cathartic and I meant to share the blog post with you, but I was afraid I would come across as whiny and ungrateful. I am not that person, however, it felt great to vent and question God and the Universe as to why my dream has yet to manifest itself when to the best of my knowledge, I'm doing all I can to see my novel, A Decent Woman, published.

My blog was a blog that many writers and authors could relate to--the frustrations of the world of publishing in 2013. 

From the many blogs I read every day written by writers, authors, agents, editors, and publishers, I've come away with:

Most editors, agents and publishers feel badly about publishing today and wish they could help more writers become published authors.

The business is what it has morphed into--a fast-paced, ever-changing and Internet- complicated business.

Historical fiction novels are difficult to sell (which surprises me as that's what I love to read!)

More than ever before, the writer is responsible for building a platform, branding, marketing and more marketing.

Most major publishing houses still frown upon self-published books.

Some agents will not represent you if you are not already a published author, but...if you self-publish, this doesn't seem to count for much. Self-publishing seems to be viewed as the poor relation to its traditional publishing sibling.

It seems that writers are damned if they do and damned if they don't. Very frustrating. So, since I like to see the big picture in most situations in my life, I've decided to take a good look at self-publishing. I'm going to research this avenue because I feel it's a smart move and a timely decision. I'm not getting any younger at 56 and I have all my brain cells at this moment in time...okay, most of my brain cells.

So, this afternoon, I opened myself up to the Universe's wisdom and listened for answers. I deleted my blog and then, sat on my yoga pillow and just sat.and.sat.and.sat.

I'm toying with the idea of incorporating my second novel, Finding Gracia into my first novel, A Decent Woman. My novel will remain an historical fiction novel set in the early 1900s in Ponce, Puerto Rico with the characters Ana and Serafina and alternate chapters will be written in the present. The present day protagonist will be Serafina's granddaughter, Gracia, who has traveled to Puerto Rico for the reading of her grandmother's will after her divorce in the United States.

Gracia discovers that she is the sole heir to her grandparent's coffee farm in the mountains of Puerto Rico and after moving to the farm, she finds her grandmother Serafina's photo albums and documents. These papers and photographs introduce Ana, the Afro-Cuban midwife, who was the attending midwife at Gracia's grandmother and mother's births.

From the grave, Dona Ana and Serafina help Gracia navigate her new life by sharing Puerto Rican history and folklore, traditional healing methods, and their views on spirituality and religion. Gracia will come full circle as she returns to her Puerto Rican roots and becomes the woman she was meant to be.

Worth a try. Then again, both novels could remain stand-alone novels, as well.  Hmmmm. Nice to have options, right?

Do you think I'm talking myself into a positive state of mind in this blog post? You bet your sweet ass I am!

Ellie xoxo

Quotes

I don't have time to blog today, but I do want to share some of my favorite quotes about writing with you. They keep me going!

Happy Wednesday to you!

Writing Away the Pounds

This will probably be the last blog post I'm able to write until I receive my new power cord from Amazon. I hope it arrives this week. I have to return my neighbor's cord in a few minutes, so I'm taking this opportunity to write a blog post about the importance of exercise and down town between writing sessions.

In the time that I edited my novel, A Decent Woman, and got it ready for querying agents and publishers, I'd gained 20 pounds. You've read right. That's what I gained in two years and I know why. I was eating on the run and that meant fast food. I love to write and sitting in front of a laptop for eight to ten hours a day doesn't bother me, but it bothered my waist line! By the time summer rolled around this year, I couldn't zip up my shorts. I put them on and was surprised by the two inches that would have to disappear in order for me to zip up. If I'd gotten them zipped up, breathing was another matter altogether. I was forced to head to Walmart for new shorts in a larger size. Not good.

It didn't seem to matter that I worked in the garden last spring, cleaned my house and walked my dog, the weight kept creeping up. My dog is a cute, but lazy Pug and walking him is like a very s l o w stroll in the park, so that wasn't really helping matters. I needed to boost up my metabolism which isn't easy with menopause lurking around the corner and a lifelong thyroid issue, but it had to be done.

I needed motivation. I bought a new pair of walking shoes, started walking in town for an hour and then, a friend introduced me to Weight Watchers. She gave me her binder of WW literature and her digital point counter. I began reading up on what it all entailed as I've never done WW before and I was pleasantly surprised as to what I could eat. It was worth a try and I'm in the first week of my goal of losing 50 pounds.

Here are some of the changes I had to make in my life:

Plan to write for an hour or two and then, turn off the laptop. Take a long walk, plant a small garden, buy a step counter for my walks, walk up and down the stairs a few times a day, and walk instead of driving whenever possible. Drink lots of water. Look at my diet and take out as much sugar and caffeine as possible. Stop drinking soda. No more white bread, sugar or white flour. Blend my version of Green Juice and try it for 14 days. (My recipe below).

For mental and emotional downtime, read! Start a journal again. Make a dream collage. Paint again. Learn something new. Visit friends instead of calling and texting them, if possible. Connect with people. Volunteer. Teach a class. Join a dance class. Take neighbor and her kids to the zoo or a petting farm. Hug a tree. Take a walk along a body of water. Go fishing. Learn a new language. Start planning my next vacation. Call an elderly relative or neighbor I need to catch up with. Breathe and meditate. Pray. Visualize my published book in my hands as I read an excerpt at a book signing with a sell-out crowd :)

GREEN JUICE:

1/2 fresh pineapple, chopped up
bunch of spinach and kale
1 cucumber
juice of one lemon and one lime
handful of fresh mint
1 apple
1 orange

Blend. Should make three large glasses. Fruits and vegies are ZERO points on Weight Watchers.

Enjoy!

Peace and love,
Ellie

How to Write a Book While Remaining Smoke-free

Today is Day Four of my smoke-free life. I kicked the smoking habit last Sunday afternoon after a weekend of puffing away. Cold turkey is the only way to go for me. I've done it cold turkey before and I lasted eight years. I blame my ex-husband for my smoking relapse. Yes, I do. But of course, had we remained together...you fill in the blanks here :)

So, Day Four. My pets are alive and the police haven't been called to my house for any disturbances caused by me, anyway. The police were called to my street which was a great distraction for an hour. I live on a "colorful" street in the historic district of my town. It's not as colorful as other streets, but with school out, it's "lively" around here in the summer months.

They (I don't know who they is) say that after day three, anything becomes a habit and that just may be true about my quitting or maybe I was focused on day three and it distracted me from smoking! I'm not sure, but I feel fine and dandy. Actually, I feel great. I thought I'd have a rough time giving up coffee and tea and was dreading the withdrawals from caffeine, but I didn't get the headache people talk about (again, those people). I'm not sure if my mild withdrawals are because I've been drinking Dr. Oz's green juice, detox concoction, and taking my vitamin D religiously but I feel pretty damn good. Giving up red wine for the time being isn't a big deal, either. I'm not a person who enjoys drinking alone and I live alone, so meh. Be gone, triggers!

There are, however, specific times where I've notice a stronger pull to run to my neighbor's house for a cigarette or ten:

After a meal;
after writing, when it's time to proofread and edit;
and, after great sex.

Not really. I just threw number three in there to make sure you were paying attention. However, my neighbor tells me that sex is THE KEY to success for battling just about any addiction. Unless your addiction is actually sex, of course. Then, I suppose you'd take a cold shower, scarf down a Klondike bar or you'd substitute sex for another addiction like bungee jumping from the nearest bridge, for example.

Anyhoo, yesterday I noticed a stronger urge to smoke after a meal and after I wrote my blog post. The urge happened again as I wrapped up a newly written page of my second novel, Finding Gracia. I  literally had to get up, go outside and weed the garden. As I was weeding, I thought, "Wait a cotton pickin' minute!" (my mother's favorite American phrase when she arrived in the US from Puerto Rico), 'I could play games with my head! I can trick myself into believing that writing is the activity and the "reward, prize" is the editing!' An aha moment.

Well, it could work. If you think about it, we are quite able to psyche ourselves into believing any number of things, and not all are smart things, either. If I'm on a balcony, I have to talk myself into believing that I'm not afraid of heights (which I am) and I've talked myself into believing that I could kayak when I had a fear of capsizing and not being able to right myself. I had nightmares of drowning under a canoe, not fun. 

I remember the day when I decided to call myself an artist when I began painting for exhibits. I had to call myself a writer when I began to write my first novel, A Decent Woman. Fake it until you make it. I don't just write, I'm a writer. I'm going to do whatever I need to do to not smoke. I'm a retired smoker, an ex-smoker, a recovering nicotine addict, yuck. It even sounds nasty!

I'm nearly finished writing this blog post and I've caught myself looking to my right where my cigarettes, lighter and ashtray used to be. There was nothing better than dragging on a cigarette at a job well done aka my blog and/or novels.

Must trick myself into believing that editing is the same as smoking...or I just might just buy the Blu electronic cigarette for editing. Nah, that would be a crutch. Off I go to think about all that...

Peace and love to you!
Ellie

The Secret to a Successful Writing Career...REALLY??

At this very moment, a good friend and former co-worker is in labor with her first child. I'm very excited for her and her husband and found myself waking up like a nervous Auntie every two or three hours to check my cell phone for updates. I texted my friend about 40 minutes ago, thinking that maybe the baby had been born since her labor began early last night. She texted back that her contractions were every two minutes. I was AMAZED that she texted me back, I thought I would surely hear from her husband and not her! She must have amazing drugs or an incredibly high tolerance to pain or as they called it in my birthing class way back when--discomfort. Yeah, right. Discomfort :) I'm praying for my friend and her baby. What a beautiful time for them.

Several of my younger friends have had babies this year and all returned to their jobs within a few months of giving birth and in one friend's case, after she gave birth to twins. They all seem to have supportive husbands with their own jobs and super daycare situations which you would expect in the DC area. A couple of friends have relatives living nearby for extra help which is great.

This morning I read an article in The Guardian by Alison Flood about author/mother Zadie Smith's criticism of author Lauren Sandler's (single child, mother of one) suggestion "that women should restrict the size of their families if they want to avoid limiting their careers." The suggestion that limiting the children was the secret to success initially raised my eyebrows and annoyed me. But, as I continued to read, I began to vacilate between agreeing with a small point of the suggestion and shaking my head in disagreement at Sandler's suggestion. There are so many sides to this issue.

I began writing my first novel in 2006 when my children were in high school. It wasn't a choice, mind you. I had been an at-home Mom in a traditional marriage (as was my parent's marriage) where my husband worked outside the home and I took care of the house and the children. I was blessed to be able to stay home, I always said that. I was a working artist and a late blooming writer who didn't get the 'writing a whole novel' bug until my kids were in high school. My then-husband drove the kids to school in the morning and I remember thinking that I had eight wonderful free hours to write as both kids played sports after school. My husband didn't get home until 7, so my creative life was productive and seemless. When my kids and husband walked through the door, I closed the laptop and put down the paintbrushes.

At that time, I had a married author friend who had two elementary school children. She managed to write and publish two books, so I knew it could be done. We were both at-home Moms and many times we agreed that it was easier to focus on writing while working at home. I used to say that having children gave me three things I personally lacked--organization, discipline and focus. I knew I had limited time and energy so, I made good use of my time in those days. My husband's income allowed me to write and not worry about the bills. Fact.

Today I'm divorced and support myself.  I write full time. My children have graduated from college and have successful careers. I retired myself from a short career in the social services arena and have free time every day. And, you know what? With a lack of structure and schedule, and no real demands on my time--I find my creative organization, discipline and focus lacking some days! My friends with careers and children at home do more than anyone I know and accomplish great things and, good for them! As a 55 year old, I can no longer run around like I did in my 30's and 40's. Their schedules make me tired, but I applaud them.

I don't think the question should be how many children could possibly interfere and mess up a writing career. I believe it's who we select as the father of our children that's important (since we're talking about women in this blog), if they want children. My girlfriends with children seem to have husbands who support their careers for the long haul. Their husbands seem to be on board with taking turns with household chores, running the kids around and taking them to doctor appointments. As long as the children are well taken care of, it doesn't matter to me who does it as long as it's done and done well. Whatever floats your boat.

What I know--the keys to a successful career are discipline, organization, focus, drive, creativity, money, a supportive spouse (if they're married), family nearby, or excellent daycare (if they have children). There's no one answer here. So why add children to the issue? Children aren't the issue and the number of children isn't the issue.

I can't count the way in which my children enriched my life as newborns, toddlers, grade school children, tweens, high schoolers, college-aged kids and now, as adults!

Did remaining childless make Emily Bronte a superior writer? Were all of Hemingway's children taken care of by a nanny or his ex-wives? Was that why he was such an amazing, prolific writer? Who knows. I believe every situation was/is different and you'll find every possible scenario with any author, male or female. There are plenty of single Dads out there writing and publishing fantastic books with young children at home and women with three or four children pumping out highly acclaimed books. There are single or married writers, men and women, with no children who with all the time in the world, can't seem to finish a book.

After I read the article, I read all the comments (which are sometimes more interesting than the blog post they follow) out of curiosity. Well, weren't my panties in a damn twist by this comment made by a reader I'm assuming is a man:

"On the other hand there is the argument that the quality of women's writing never quite matches that of men, regardless of how many children are involved."

This guy gave me a major wedgie that I'm still having trouble with! Who says that?!

I know that I'll return to that article all day long to check out the comments to this little nugget and this genius' rebuttals.

Ellie

How To Avoid a Marketing Plan

Cover letter, check. First chapter and synopsis, check. Merde, that synopsis was dificile. From nine pages, I was able to whittle it down to eight and that was tough, but it's done. Marketing plan, check...well, that could use some tweaking. So, that's what I'm doing this morning--getting my package ready for a small press publisher. No easy feat, that's a lot of stuff to send out for un petite livre. Mais, c'est la vie aujourdui. That doesn't look right, doesn't it? But, I'm in the mood to speak French, so bear with me. I love speaking French. Anything to avoid that marketing plan!

For the last couple of days, le weekend complet, actualment, I went to bed earlier than usual. I had no plans with friends and woke up earlier. Huit heure matin is my normal waking time and then, it was seven and this bright and beautiful lundi morning, it was six. I was wide awake. I fall asleep thinking about my novel and I wake up thinking about my novel. I suppose c'est normal for a writer and I'm clear-minded in the morning, so the early morning hours works for me. So, bonjour mes ami!

At six this morning, my Pug, Ozzy, looked at me like something was seriously wrong. I pulled back the bedroom curtains and watched the soleil come up while Ozzy continued to snooze with one eye open. I don't know how he does that. Incroyable. I padded downstairs, Pug and Pierre, my cat, in tow and let Ozzy out. Pierre circled my ankles and jumped on the washing machine, meowing for breakfast, his favorite time of the day. Saumon et fromage est le menu du jour pour ma chaton, I told him as I nuzzled his neck. He's fluent in French, ya know. I speak broken French.

Minutes later, the Pug was sitting at la porte de la cuisine, staring up at me. His biological clock seemed to be stuck on eight o'clock. Maman, c'est fou! Je suis fatigue! I walked out and prodded him to pee. Ozzy kept looking back at me for moral support and courage like I'd just dropped him on a foreign planet. Pierre stood up against the kitchen door, his mouth moving as if to say, "Let ME out, I'll show him how it's done!" Non, Pierre. Tu est un chaton de l'interiur. I lured Ozzy onto the wet grass and of course...he pooped in my flower garden, right on les snapdragons, and my slippers are still wet.

NOTE TO SELF: Wear gardening gloves and look into some low fencing. Take a French refresher course, I need it.

The pets have been watered and fed, I brewed a nice cup of tea and my babies now napping. That didn't take long!  So, now back to the marketing plan...wish me luck. Bonne chance a moi!

Happy Monday to you, wherever you are! Aren't ya glad ya read this Frenglish blog post?

Peace and love,
Ellie

I Sure Can Pick 'Em

Do you remember the Disney film with Kurt Russell where a chimp watches television shows and picks the top show of the week? I don't remember the title, but I do remember watching the movie as a teenager.  I also remember reading the newly published children's book, Jumanji to my kids when they were toddlers, saying, "This would make a great movie!" Later, I read Jurassic Park to my kids who were nine and seven at the time, thinking that a movie had to be made of that amazing book. When my daughter went to college and I was on my way back to Belgium via Puerto Rico to visit my cousin, I was reading, The Da Vinci Code. I read it in two days, couldn't put it down and really hoped to see it on the screen. Voila. My picker was right.

Another book I've always thought would be AMAZING on the silver screen is The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. I would pay good money to see it. Maybe a movie studio has already bought the movie rights for the book and if not, why not? The book would make a fabulous movie in my humble. The other book is mine.

I smile now because as a new writer, the first draft of my historical novel, A Decent Woman was a screenplay of sorts. I was learning the ropes (still am) and very passionate about my book (still am). I just had to get the words down as quickly as I could and because I didn't know any better, I made lots of mistakes. I often said that the characters whispered in my ear as I wrote. I still have the first draft of my novel and I kind of cringe when I read the first chapter. The characters are interesting, but not fleshed out and the dialogue is a he said, she said type of ping pong match! There is more intrigue now with meatier chapters, fleshier characters, meaningful dialogue, flashbacks, and back story. As I've written draft after draft, I've learned a lot and I'm still learning. The more I read, the more I learn about the craft of writing.

When I wrote that first draft, I could see my characters as clearly as if they were standing in front of me. I saw the hurricane just off the coast, I smelled the salty ocean, heard babies cry, and felt the spray off the waves on my face as Ana stood thinking back to her childhood in Cuba. I cried with my heroines, prayed with them and laughed at what came out of their mouths. I heard them speak, whisper and I fell in love when they did. I rooted for my characters when they were in dire straits and although I dreamed of happy endings for them all, I complicated my character's lives and then tied up loose ends only to have another challenge present itself.

From the beginning draft of my novel to the draft I now hold in my hands, I've lived and breathed with my characters. As I patiently wait on the verdict of the exclusive read the agent asked me for - I am hopeful. I still see this book as a movie. I'd watch it :)

Patience, patience, and more patience on this blustery day in March.

Peace and love,
Ellie

Why I'm Wearing Tight Shorts Today

According to the Internet, the first day of Spring will be at exactly 7:02 a.m. on March 20, 2013. If you're like me and you live on the east coast, you'll be smiling and wearing shorts. It might not be warm enough for shorts that day, but I'll be wearing them because it's the principle of the thing!

I'm more than ready for Spring on the east coast. To say that I have cabin fever today would be putting it mildly. I'm tired of sitting at home and I need some fresh air, but that means I have to bundle up and I'm sick of that! I'm wearing tight cotton shorts on this sunny, blustery, cold morning for these reasons:

1. Today is laundry day. My jeans and sweatpants are in the washing machine and I canNOT find my loose shorts with the elastic waistband.

2. I'm pretending it's warmer. I'm trying to forget that I had to put the heat on last night. How disappointing was that! I might even have to raise the temperature today; it's way cold and windy out there.

3.  I've gained weight and need to lose weight. Since I decided to write full time, I've clocked in a zillion hours sitting on my arse. Wearing tight shorts creates a really nice muffin top, reminding me of why I'm eating right these days and why I have to delete the pizza parlor's phone number from my cell phone. Yes, I'm weak.

4. Spring break. I'll be flying to Florida with my sister to visit our father this spring which means we'll probably be on the beach which requires a bathing suit which is a horrible thought right about now. Time to exercise and delete the pizza parlor's phone number on my cell phone once and for all.

Right. It really is time to lose the weight I've gained by writing and editing my first novel. I won't even talk about how white my legs are. There are spray tanners for that, but no sprays for weight reduction. Yet.

No one told me that I'd gain weight writing my first novel, but it's true. I've loved the writing, the research, and the process. I love my novel and how it's turned out, but I'm not loving that I can hardly breathe in these damn shorts! No one told me that I'd gain weight by writing my first novel. I truly must be nuts because I've already begun writing my second novel.  Oy vey...I see a muu muu in my future.

Happy Wednesday to you :)

Peace and love,
Ellie

Blogging and Business Blogging

My 25 year old son told me that I should keep my personal and writing lives separate with a personal Facebook page and writer's page.  My friends recommends that I create a website for myself before my book is even published.  A good friend and fellow blogger says she loves my blogs and how I tie in my life with writing novels.  A very good and wise friend told me that I should blog, Facebook, Tweet, review books, join writer's blog groups, read writing blogs of published authors and try to squeeze in time to write.  Wow and she's probably right.

All I wanted to do was write. I wrote a book and have a large folder full of poetry, and I've blogged nearly every single day since 2007 with a couple of breaks for holidays and travel.  Blogging comes easily to me. They are my Morning Pages. Those of you who know Julia Cameron's seminal book, The Artist's Way, will know what I'm talking about.  Three pages of stream-of-consciousness writing, written long hand, mind you.  I started doing my Morning Pages around the year 2000 and never stopped. I have a two stacks of bound journals (with no lines) as tall as me - five foot nothing - as proof.

All that life and living in those pages, wow. PLENTY of writing material in there, let me tell you! Of course, to the untrained eye of a complete stranger, many of those journal entries might be enough to put me away   for my own good and the good of the community. I've journaled on trains, tour buses, in Venetian hotels, in the Alps after a ski accident, at night while walking El Camino with my kids, and just before and certainly after my divorce.  Yes, all that life is chronicled in my journals.

So, blogging came naturally. When I started on Thoughts.com in 2007, I immediately found a home and a niche - newly single, divorced woman in her 50's enters the dating world. I didn't look for that niche, that's exactly what I was doing and women found it interesting and hilarious.  I have to admit that dating has been pretty damn funny. That book will be easy to write because it's all true. Truth is indeed stranger than fiction in my world! My dating niche blog was a piece of cake for me, I was merely journaling.

Anyway, my new blog was meant to be serious.  I decided I would take my son's advice and start a blog, a serious writerly blog about writing and the writing life. Now, writing is serious and I take it very serious, believe me. I work my tush off, clocking in most mornings at 9 and signing off at 9 pm some nights. I've worked hard on my novel and I'm proud of it. But, this blog?  It just won't stay serious.  I can't help it, ridiculous and strange stuff happens to me and around me, just begging to be written about.

I always include my novel-length manuscript in my blogs and I write about the challenges, difficulties, hopes and dreams I have for my novel. I've written about my characters and how they came to be. I've recommended books on writing that I've loved and still go back to time and again. I'm learning to review books, I still feel dumb tweeting and boy, do I have a hard time tooting my own horn. I'm learning though.

Yes, I've written an historical novel that also fits women's fiction and multi-cultural genres, but there are also moments of laughter, joking and comraderie between my heroines. I wrote that novel with years and years of research, interviews and reading and I've always had a funny bone.  So, it was impossible for me to weave a story without a little humor because that's how I've lived my life. Humor has helped me lift myself up when I didn't think I could go one more step or do one more thing. Humor allows me to put things into perspective and I can laugh at myself in the process. I chide myself with "Stop being such a drama queen" when I realize that I'm so blessed to do what I love and am passionate about - writing.

You won't find any whining here, but you may find that mixed with the writing 'stuff', there'll be moments and mornings when my toilet won't flush (even though all the parts are working and in place) because that's life.
But, I won't write about my book, maintaining my ol' house, my dating life (or lack of) or the weather when I'm reviewing other author's books.  The next step in my evolution.  My review blogs, interviews with authors, and Q & A blogs will be all about the authors. I have to push the envelope now because the blogging I used to do doesn't seem to resemble the writing blogs that I've read every day for an hour every morning since I started this blog. Some are humorous and informative and those I put a star next to. Others are strictly business and very helpful, and most are pure business - the business of selling books. Sigh. As if writing a book wasn't hard enough, I now must learn the business of publishing and selling books. Sheesh.

That was a whine...well, I'm almost finished reading the first book I'd love to review - The Paris Wife: A Novel by Paula McIain. Through this author's eyes, I've enjoyed the sights and sounds of one of my top five favorite cities in the world - Paris.

Peace and love,
Ellie

What Flooding Has To Do With Writing

This morning, I discovered this photo taken in March of last year of the Potomac River in West Virginia.  That year, the river crested at 27 feet and the owners of riverfront lots on lower ground woke up to this sight. Yes, that's a child's swing set in the upper right hand corner of the photograph. Our lot levels out at 30 feet, so we were close, but safe...that time.

We riverfront lot owners know that flooding is something we have to deal with and we accepted that fact when we bought. There have been times when we've chosen to ride out the weather and watch the rising river, praying that it will crest way below what's been predicted. There was the time when my friend Gwen and I decided that it was time to call in the big guns - the tow truck company that would haul the camper to higher ground which is a difficult, tedious and costly decision. It turned out that we'd predicted wrong. The river didn't reach our patio, but many lot owners experienced flooded campers and lots. I saw refrigerators and coolers float by. It's a gamble living on the river. I was okay with the decision that was ultimately mine and I learned to be more patient and watchful for signs that maybe we would be okay staying put.

I have to be alert to NOAA's predictions and then, gamble. To move or not to move to higher ground, that's the question and floods can happen any time of year. In recent years, melting snow in the mountains have caused the MD and WV creeks and rivers to flood and surge toward the Potomac River in the spring. Last April, my friend Kristine and I watched the waters of the Potomac River reach the fifth step of the stairs that lead to the river as we sat around a bonfire at 3 am, wondering if we could chance falling asleep. What an adventure Kris and I had that night! Our adrenaline was pumping and we made the right choice not to panic early and call the tow truck company. We'd gambled and survived and we were very proud of ourselves! My co-owner Dana and I are two of four women who own riverfront lots. Men watch us to see how we'll react, we know that. And, we've learned well and we've survived two seasons now. This spring will be our third - we're here to stay :)

Our friends who own lots on higher ground say they couldn't stand the stress and the uncertainty of living on the river. I shrug and say that the pleasures and beauty of waking up to a view of the Potomac River while I sip my coffee are worth the risk. When I see geese glide over the river, an eagle soar overhead or watch a new family of ducks swim by and listen to the fishermen's conversations from boats I can't see through the early morning fog, I'm at peace. "Just not worth it", our neighbors have said to us and we smile because when the weather is dry and hot, these same neighbors will be calling us to see about bringing their kids over to swim and fish off our floating dock.

Writing a novel is like that.  It's a risk, a gamble that we as writers sign up for every time we start a new book. Writing isn't for everyone. The risks that our story might not be picked up by a big name agent or a big publishing house are there, ever present, but we persevere. Friends and family secretly believe that we should get a day job. But, we know that the pleasure is in the writing, it's a passion that has put its hooks into us and we can't deny it.

Yes, there have been times when I've thought about throwing in the towel and calling it a day at the river and with my first novel-length manuscript, A Decent Woman. I've experienced and dare I say, have been plagued by night time thoughts that we'll lose the camper to flooding and that I won't see my book in print. But then, I think about spring and summer mornings to come when I'll sit and write at our farm table on the patio that faces the river and it all goes away. My two loves will come together again. I'll be reminded of how blessed I am to write and will continue to put myself out there with my novel. I visualize my book in print.

Writing is worth the long hours, isolation and uncertainty that come with it and the longer hours and uncertainty when we're ready for an agent and a publisher. I'm a storyteller and I love the river, what can ya do? How else am I going to get my 55 year old blood pumping?

Peace and love,
Ellie

Why Does Disney Kill Off So Many Mothers??

A couple of nights ago, I watched the reality show, Intervention, a reality show about addiction and the inventions that families plan and host in the hopes of sending their family member to rehab and in the process, saving their life.

In the episode I watched, a clearly anguished father read a letter to his son that began with the words, "Your addiction has affected me in the following ways."  His son sat motionless on the couch next to his father and looked down, tears streaming down his cheeks. He listened to his father's anguished words and I wondered if the words had reached his son enough to accept the help that was being offered.

Heart wrenching! I wanted to hug the family and shake his son awake to the damage he was inflicting on himself and on his family  who listened to the man's letter, looking lost and heartbroken. It was almost too much for me to bear. The family's pain was palpable and found myself wanting to look away, but forced myself to keep watching.  I could have changed the channel to a more lighthearted program, but I sat still.  The show reminded me of a murder mystery I'd read about addiction and I tucked that away.

In the reality show episode, letter after letter is read by a family member and the boy breaks down, accepting help. He's going to rehab.  Hallelujah. Tears of joy all around and I had tears in my eyes for a kid I didn't know.  In three months time, the boy is clean and has remained drug-free since 2010. That information was flashed across the screen at the end of the show.  I was relieved, but knew better. As a former counselor, I knew damn well that this kid's recovery had been a long, torturous process for the boy and his family.  We hadn't been made privy to the details that surely entailed anguish, pain and hurt.  It's an hour show, I reminded myself.  I wondered how much had been embellished by Hollywood?  How would I know, but I applauded this young's man courage.  Maybe it helped me feel better to think that the show had been embellished and a fake like Kim Kardashian's fairy tale wedding.

Before bed, I thought about the ugly things and realities of life that many of us don't want to see, read or listen to that certainly have happened in our world and exist today. I thought of my novel where a murder occurs.  I'd written those scenes very quickly, I remember.  I skimmed through them, not wanting to slow down for the violence. Who wants to dwell on a murder, certainly not me. BAM!  It happened and then, next chapter!  "The next morning the sun shone brightly"...no.

I wrote that murder scene in and would have to deal with it.  I would have to sit and look at the ugly side of life and humanity in my protagonist and antagonist's eyes. Could I do it?  Could I embellish and imagine the horrible event and the emotional aftermath and write a believable chapter?  All I'd ever killed was a Maine lobster in a soup pot of boiling water and an enormous ant pile I discovered by my back patio last summer.

Did I need that scene? Couldn't I make this novel a feel good novel where everyone is happy and in love?  There doesn't have to be a murder!  Uh...no. I'm a realist and that's what would happen in my novel.  I couldn't be afraid to tackle difficult questions, ask those difficult questions.

Then, something came back to me from my counseling days - pain is pain.  We will never know exactly how a victim or a perpetrator feels, even if we've experienced such crimes ourselves. Each of our experiences will be different and our reactions all our own.  I could only write the sections as I imagined because I'm human and I'm not immune to pain. All we can do is walk alongside another person.

Unlike counseling, authors take their reader's hand and lead them where they want them to go.  We lead, show and then, move on. We can't control how our readers perceive our scenes and interpret our stories.  The best we can do is to be as honest and genuine as we can in the telling of our stories. And, that's what I did.  

Then I watched part of a Disney movie until I realized that Disney killed off way too many mothers!!  What's up with that?!  Bambi, Snow White and didn't Cinderella and Ariel lose their mother's too?  Don't get me started...

Peace, love, unicorns and rainbows!

Ellie



  

Don't Play, Take It Seriously!

Happy Sunday to you and what a beautiful sunny day it is!  My day started out by bundling up and walking through the downtown area to attend Mass, followed by french toast, 2 slices of bacon, and two coffees at our local diner served by a nice waitress who called me Hon, Sweetie and Sugar.

I ask you...HOW can you have a bad day when your body, heart, soul and tummy are full and happy?

I left the diner as the lunch and after-church crowd started streaming in and headed to our public library down the street.  My favorite librarian greeted me and winked as she whispered that the fancy computer with the large monitor in the private room was available.  So many nice people on on this beautiful sunny day!

As I got situated to prepare to write this blog, I realized something, had a light bulb moment if you will.  I briefly interacted and shared moments with many wonderful people today at church, the diner and the library, but I haven't had one conversation.  Not one.

I shook hands, said good morning, offered the people around me the sign of peace in church, gave the waitress my breakfast order, and when I dribbled syrup on my white tank top, I asked the same waitress for a bit of water to remove the stain.  I thanked her, paid my bill, asked for a diner mug that I heard was on sale, thanked the cashier, said hello to the librarian, and thanked her for the heads up on the private room.  I had exchanges, but no real conversation.

I did, however, people watch before Mass started, listened to conversations around me at the diner, watched people's eating habits, and wondered if my protagonist would say this or that and if so, how would she say this or that?

Welcome to the world of the writer :)

I edited, wrote and rewrote all this week.  From Monday through Saturday, I sat at my laptop and only got up to eat, walk Ozzy, feed him and Pierre, and make chicken noodle soup in my crock pot.  I took an evening walk with my Pug and rediscovered how utterly beautiful snow looks at night under streetlights.  I saw diamonds and glitter all the way home. What a gift!

I guess you can figure out that this week, I didn't see many people and you'd be right. Other than a ten minute visit with a neighbor mid-week and a two minute conversation with another neighbor as we shoveled the sidewalks in front of our homes, I was silent.  Me and my novel.

As a creative child who loved to write and draw, I was in my head quite a bit. However, I was also a social child with a younger sister and many friends to play with. I didn't isolate myself, but when I needed time to myself, I took it and loved it as much as climbing trees or playing Tetherball in our school playground.

Today, I'm much the same way.  I love socializing with friends on Friday and Saturday evenings and try to save Sundays for myself unless I'm visiting with my beautiful daughter and son or visiting friends in Northern Virginia.  During the week, I putter around my house during writing breaks and don't answer the telephone, but will answer texts if I see them.  I play inside the house with my characters, my story line and figuring out who will say what and how will they look when they say it.  I'm in my head and I love it.

Now, I'm no hermit, believe me and if a nice man asked me out on a date, I'd go (only on the weekend!).  In winter, I take walks and in the spring, I get my hands dirty in my gardens or I fish on the river.  I love the outdoors. Come spring, I'll be editing, writing and rewriting at my place on the river, combining many of my passions.

Is there such a thing as being TOO much inside our heads with our writing? Not unless you don't come up for air, get no exercise or fresh air, or if you repeatedly avoid family and friend's invitations to get together. We do need some down time, but I've realized that even during down time with family and friends, I'm still thinking about my book.

Hey, most people have jobs and honey, this writing life IS my job.  I take this seriously :) So, my title is playful because we need down time, play time if you will, and hopefully, writing will always feel like play to me.  Not that I don't take it seriously, now.  I do, but the time I spend in my head is play time to me.

P.S. I can't find the photographer's name nor the title of the photograph. Sorry for that!

Peace and love,
Ellie

The Risky-Risque Business of Writing

Amen.  This quote says it all for me.  I could stop writing this very moment and you'd get it.  Risk.  You gotta take some! I've taken lots of risks as an writer, poet and writer, more when I decided to write full time.

Risky behavior.  Get you some. I highly recommend that, too! But, not like you might think I mean...but, then again...it would depend on what risky means to you, right?

I'm talking risky - daring, venturesome, adventurous, chancy, hit or miss, uncertain risky.  I'm not talking about risque behavior, just risky. (Please forgive the missing accent on the "e", mine doesn't seem to want to work today). But, wait a minute!!

Risque - off color, ribald, bawdy, racy, spicy, daring, blue. Hold the press!  If you write romance novels or real life stories about real life, genuine people doing real life, genuine things, you're going to have to be risque!  I have a couple of sex scenes in my novel-length manuscript, A Decent Woman, and you know what? They were hard to write. I write great romantic scenes, they come easily to me, however, a scene with lovemaking and having sex? (Yes, two different animals!)  Not so much!  I have two children so I'm not a nun, but when I wrote the lovemaking scenes, my brain was saying, "Oooh, that's too raunchy, Ellie!" or "Too clinical!" My writing had either TMI, had too little detail, or the writing read clinical or unbelievable.

How much is too much? And, I don't mean that in a philosophical way!  Literally, how much is too much? Is there an art to writing sex scenes? Is there a right and wrong way?

It depends. No. Yes.  Maybe.  There seems to be an art to writing a sex scene. Actually, there has to be. I'm off to read some sexy scenes on a frigid winter day, no pun intended :) Anais Nin, here I come and I'm not reading "Fifty Shades of Gray", either.  No, thanks. I've read too many bad reviews about the author's writing aka bad writing, and I don't mean bad in the "bad girl" kind of way!  I mean bad writing!  Sheesh! I'm signing off now :)

Stay warm wherever you are!

Peace and love,
Ellie

When The Manuscript Leaves The Nest

What an exciting couple of days we've experienced with President Barack Obama's inauguration on Martin Luther King's birthday, made even more special and momentous for many reasons. One of my favorite special moments was when President Obama was sworn in on Abraham Lincoln and Dr. King's Bibles.

Whether you voted for President Obama or not, Washington looked beautiful and you had to be proud to be an American today - I was.  I'm not a political person nor do I enjoy talking politics, but I did enjoy the President's speech. President Obama mentioned immigration laws, gay rights, the environment, and doing better.  We have to do better and there is so much more for us to do in this country.

A lot of hard work is ahead of us collectively and individually.  We can no longer believe that we are separate entities.  We are one nation under God.

I know there are many, many wonderful and wise quotes by President Obama and Dr. King I could use today, but this quote by Bill Cosby is appropriate for me tonight.  The quote is fitting for me at this stage of my life - as a writer and future published author.

As I near the end (this thought will probably change tomorrow!) of this editing session of my manuscript, the closer I get to the next stage - finding an agent.  That next step has always been in the distance, not way in the distance future, but not in the next few months. Well, I changed that earlier this month.  I felt ready.  I sent out two query letters and received two replies back for the first three chapters.  To say that I was happy to receive the emails would be a major understatement!  So, now we wait.  My fingers are crossed now.

"I managed to avoid the initial slush pile!", I kept saying to my kitten, Pierre and my Pug, Ozzy who just looked at me, wondering if their special treats were behind my back.  I was over the moon and then some, but I was also afraid.  I AM afraid.  My manuscript, my baby, has left my very safe nest and is out in the world...that's a very scary thought.  I can't protect 'her' and I can't speak for 'her'.  My story, must stand on her own two feet like my two adult children have done and done well!

I created my story. I've fed and nurtured the story and my characters and also cut out people, places and things that would otherwise harm and/or detract from the story line. I've soothed, challenged and tested my story and characters and I feel the novel is ready. Will I find another typo, a misspelled word, or a word in italics that shouldn't be?  Yes, probably. I'll keep reading, tightening and checking that baby until I'm blue in the face. Or until the blue ink in my pen runs out!

It's been an emotional weekend for me and I'm sure I'll sleep well tonight. Tomorrow, it's back to my manuscript and back to the reading and double checking.  And, checking my emails about a couple hundred times a day :)

Today is the anniversary of my beautiful mother Mercedes's passing.  Te amo, Mami.

Peace and love,
Ellie

Some Things Can Wait, Others Won't!

Hello!

Last night, my neighbor told me the sun would be out this morning after a gray, dismal week with little sun, so I decided to leave the bedroom curtains open last night. She was right.  I woke up to sun in my eye and it felt great. I lay in bed for a couple of minutes, soaking up the sun's warm rays and then, I noticed the dirty streaks on my windows that I'd apparently missed when I cleaned them...in the fall?  No matter! The sun was out! I'd get to them later.

Instead of the usual "I wonder what time it is" before throwing the comforter off, I bounded out of bed. I was up way late last night with my novel and despite feeling a bit tired, I washed my face and went to make a pot of tea.  I let my Pug, Ozzy out, put the kettle on, and walked out onto my kitchen porch in my robe.  Beautiful! Blue skies and very little clouds.  Then, I noticed that the white paint on my wicker chairs was flaking off...really flaking. I'd have to get on that soon. But, not today!  The sun was out!  There's always March.

I fired up the laptop, watched Pierre, my kitten, jump from the dining room table to the top of the armoire (his first time!) and then, decided that instead of continuing the edits and rewrites on my novel, it was time to print out the entire manuscript. I wanted to read my book, A Decent Woman, and my reading eyes needed a break from the computer screen, too. No printer?  No problem!  I'd take a sunny day walk to the library where the very sweet and helpful librarian lets me use the library's fancy shmancy computer in the back room with the equally fancy shmancy, super fast printer! She's very nice to writers and future authors :)

As the printer spit out the 263 pages of my novel, I read the first page as I've done a couple hundred times over the years.  Something didn't feel right.  I couldn't put my finger on it.  I decided to reread the first paragraph.  Yep, it's in there.  I honed in on the first sentence...holy crap. 

My vision has recently turned into a "You can say it better, poor usage, bad grammar-seeking missle!!

Nothing was really wrong with the first sentence, BUT it could be explained and described even better!!  ARGH!  Needless to say, when the 263 pages were out, I'd already reworked the first sentence...and I loved it.

I printed out the new first page again because I'm a Virgo, wrapped up my manuscript and walked home, holding my precious bundle called A Decent Woman.  The reason for these new eyes - one reason.  Natalie Goldberg.  She's the reason I'm fleshing out the mss, rereading with new eyes, staying with the mystery, slowing down when I want to rush forward, and describing the crap outta things!  Yep, it's Nat's fault. And, I love her dearly.

My dirty windows can wait and so can the wicker chairs.  Ozzy will always have to go out and Pierre (and I) will always reach new heights.  I'll always love a pot of tea and I'll continue to walk every day, rain or shine. I'll write at home and at the library.  Some things can wait and some things won't.

Rewrites, edits and learning through writing never seems to end and cannot wait.  I'm okay with that even if the sun isn't shining.

Peace and love,
Ellie

Holes, Loopholes and Questions

I felt it coming on yesterday - the winter cold.  I prayed it wasn't some type of crazy flu.  The scratchy throat, fatigue, and the dull headache began in the morning and I immediately started a round of Airborne, sprayed Zicam on my tongue and began popping probiotics.  Could I nip this upper respiratory illness or flu bug in the bud?  I was hopeful and determined, but I usually have one nasty cold per winter.  Ugh, was this the one?

I made a pot of tea, put on thick ski socks and wrapped myself in the dark pink chenille robe that my daughter left at my house one Spring break and got cozy on the couch with the television remote.  I curled up with one romantic comedy after another.  I did.  For about ten hours.  That's a lot of love, romance and break-ups for anyone!  An overload, really.  A movie marathon of meet-ups, hook-ups, break-ups and happily ever after. All that did was remind me that I was a single woman in my 50's who is more likely to be hit by lightning than find love...great.

Food.  Food would make me feel better.  Since I had nothing but three eggs, no butter and no cheese for the omelet I was craving, I called China King and waited patiently as the woman finished screaming at someone in Chinese before giving her my order. I held the phone away from my ear as she barked my order and then, I waited 50 minutes for a quart of Won Ton Soup and a pint of Garlic Shrimp that promised to be hot enough to kill this cold and clear my sinuses.

As I waited for the delivery man, I flipped through the stations and decided that a pay-for-view was in order.  Nothing caught my eye and then, I saw the title of a movie I'd wondered about, The Word.  I'm a person who buys books by the title and reading a tiny bit of the back cover.  I don't like to know what a movie or book is about before watching or reading, and God love you, if you tell me the ending!  Since I hadn't had the energy to tackle the edits on my novel yesterday, I thought I might be entertained and inspired by watching a movie about a writer.

The Word was well-acted, but to me it was a limp film about a struggling writer whose manuscripts are rejected time and time again (not great for my morale or headache) and who discovers an old manuscript inside a leather briefcase he finds in a Parisian antique store.  After reading the masterpiece and agonizing a bit, the writer decides to copy the exact manuscript, word for word, and give it to an agent who immediately wants to represent him and his book.  Said writer becomes rich and famous...and of course, the real author of the manuscript comes forward.  I thought it would have made a better murder mystery which it would have been if I'd discovered that someone else had stolen my lost manuscript and called it his/her own!

I never connected with the characters of this film and it was a good lesson in writing.  They seemed one dimensional to me and the film felt rushed.  We must connect with our readers at a deep, emotional level.  It just wasn't there for me.  Although the film was entertaining, I was left with questions and there were holes that were never filled.  It was the kind of movie that left me shrugging my shoulders at the end.  Eh.

Before falling asleep, I thought about my own manuscript, A Decent Woman.  I vowed to make sure that I didn't leave holes and/or create unrealistic loopholes in my story.  Will readers love my characters and will they relate to them, especially since my heroines live in Puerto Rico in the 1900's?  Will I receive many rejections along the way to publication?  Do I have enough thick skin to withstand negative reviews?  Will I find love before I turn 60?!  Yes, all these questions before bed!  Ha ha!

I woke up several times last night, grinding my teeth and blowing my nose, but slept relatively well.  This morning, I woke up feeling a little blah and decided that my three friends, Airborne, Zicam and probiotics, will keep me company today along with my heroines.  I love my heroines and I still believe in my story.

I do and so, on we go.  Cold or no cold!  I've got work to do.

Peace and love,
Ellie









  

Going With the Holiday Flow

Hi all!

Christmas Day is eight days away and I'm finding it difficult to focus on my novel this week.  Who am I kidding?  I found it difficult to edit last week, as well.  A couple of days of good work a week and other days of...distractions.  That equals two and a half weeks of distractions.  Is this happening to you?  Maybe I should have taken December off, thereby reducing the guilts!

Okay, I did have a week vacation with my friends and family in Puerto Rico which I enjoyed immensely.  I rested the week following my vacation and got my house in order.  I even found time to paint my front door glossy black (after pinning dozens of black doors on Pinterest this fall) and I decorated the outside of my house for the Holidays.  I visited with a sick friend, had coffee with two neighbors and caught up with girlfriends and family by email and telephone.  Yesterday, I gave my neighbor and her family a little tree because I know they are hurting this year and last night, I had dinner with a new friend - our second date.  Distractions?  Yes!

My writing rhythm is shot.  I was doing so well at the beginning of the month and had made great headway with my novel and then, the Holiday pressures were on.  I suppose I put those pressures on myself, but they're valid distractions this time of year.  I have ecards to put together, gifts to buy, a train ticket to Virginia to purchase, and friends I'd love to get together with.  Not to mention, my bedroom looks like a hurricane passed through.

I have kept up with my blog, however.  Bite-size pieces of writing.  I suppose the fact that I'm writing is a good thing.  My mind is jumping around and my heart is already in Northern Virginia with my kids and family.  I can't wait to seem them all!

How do people write, publish and market books while working full-time, part-time and raise kids, I wonder?  Am I that disorganized?  I don't work outside the home, I should be able to do all this with my eyes closed, right?  Priorities, I know.  I know the drill, but there's something major to be said about being present.  I don't know how many Holidays I'll have with both my kids and family; none of us do.

So, I've decided to enjoy my family and friends this Holiday season and when I return, I'm turning off the phone, not answering emails and I won't put the TV on!  That's it.  I'm not wasting time mind you, I'm simply going with the Holiday flow and choose not to feel guilty about it.

Guilt, worry, and anxiety are wasted emotions.  I choose to put all my energy into enjoying my family and friends this Holiday season.  For me, that is what is important - being present and enjoying the gifts that my family and friends are.  True blessings.

Peace, blessings, and love to you.
Ellie

One Way to Overcome Writer's Block

Hi all,

Yesterday I found out that my local library has a fax machine for public use.  I don't mean that you can stand there and fax any ol' thing you want.  First, you have to get through the tall, wiry, and might I add, stern-looking woman who will fax documents for you at one dollar per page. I don't know if this is common practice in libraries, but as a person who hasn't figured out how to install her printer at home which has fax/scanning and printing capabilities, this was awesome news.  Please don't tell my local library if it's not 'normal', I love it!

After I faxed my documents (so easy!), I trudged upstairs to the computer room  and decided to see what it would feel like to enter a strange room, write a new blog on a strange computer (to me) among 20 strangers. 

As I waited to get assigned a computer, I scanned the room.  Much like I do in a crowded restaurant while I wait for the host/hostess to seat me. I want a nice table and not in the middle of the room, thank you very much. The computer room was packed with people of all ages.  The only free computers were right smack in the middle of the middle aisle of three aisles. Damn!  People on all sides.  I don't like sitting in the middle of any room. I've always liked my back against the walls, so that I can view YOU :)

NOTE: I've worked in residential treatment centers for kids...you don't turn your back, ever. I learned that quick and it has stuck with me.


I didn't have to stay in the computer room.  I have a perfectly lovely red laptop at home. I could have left any time after faxing my documents. But something pulled me upstairs. I'm curious, intuitive and I happen to reading "The Alchemist" for the third time.  (My daughter gave me her Kindle and the book happens to be on her list, so I started at 4:30 am when I couldn't sleep.)  Yes, 4:30 am.  Well, I love a good challenge and I wondered if I would meet anyone interesting in the computer room.  Would I meet someone with a message for me about my novel?  Would I meet the Alchemist? The King? The Englishman? A talking camel?  Who knows, but I'm open to new experiences.

I was up for the challenge, but writing my new blog in this computer room was posing an internal challenge for me. I could do it and I would!  I would accept whatever computer was offered to me and not worry that someone was looking at my screen.  That was it!  I was feeling 'naked' and spied upon and I hadn't even sat down.

I pushed through it, looked to my left and right several times (just because) and looked behind me because the guy was having a conversation with his rental office. Highly annoying.  Someone else had their music blaring and I could hear the rap music through his head phones.  Very annoying.

I pushed on!  I checked Facebook, checked my two email accounts and replied so some emails and I wrote this blog :) There is ALWAYS a lesson and a lesson learned in every situation and experience that we have. I usually learn something new from a brief conversation with a neighbor or someone in line at the grocery store.  I truly believe that. You have to be open to people, places and things.  I usually am.

What did I learn this morning during my writing experience at my local library?

Writing at home is freakin' awesome :) I can't wait to walk home and fire that baby up and write to my heart's content.  Make your writing experience crappy, challenging or just interesting enough and I guarantee you that your computer will look awesome to you when you get home.

Peace out,
Ellie