Saturday, July 25, 2009

FINALLY

I finally managed to finish my ghost story, a book I started way back in March but had to set aside for Paranormalcy edits.

I'm not sure how to feel about it. I know I'll have to go through and fix some continuity errors, add some details, edit out a whole lot of internal monologue, etc, but all-in-all I think I've got something good here.

And after all of that first-person present-tense, I think I'm ready for some third person ACTION. Yeah, baby. Bring on the new idea.

Anyway, here's my traditional summing up:

Love You Always
61,000 words
Soundtrack: Death Cab for Cutie Pandora station
Brought to you by: The desperate need to get outside of my own head for a while and create lots and lots of problems and emotional turmoil for my poor main character
Featuring: Two love interests...one with more of a pulse than the other.

Whew. It's a HUGE relief to get this first draft done. I was really worried that I wouldn't be able to finish it. Now I just have edits to look forward to! But, for once, I think I'm going to wait a while.

I need a nap.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Extreme Poetry: The John Green Edition

Let me preface this by saying I only have a literary crush on John Green, much the same as my literary crush on Marilynne Robinson. I don't know what her hair looks like though, so I can't make as many comments. And I'm quite sure she's very dissimilar from Dora the Explorer.

And on to the poetry. As requested by Marybeth Poppins, a poem about John Green:

Potterphile Extraordinaire,
He of the fascinating hair
John Green's writing makes me drool
I write love poems, like a fool
for his perfect turn of phrase
Reading, my eyes tend to glaze
with jealousy, unabashed
Compared to him, my writing's trash.

But that's not true, and he'd agree
(she tells herself flatteringly)
I think he'd like it, just because
A nerd is what he is and was.
And if you have not guessed by now
I'm rather nerdy too, somehow.
Hooray for John Green, making nerds
into the cool ones with his words.


And for DJ Fox:

A Case of the Mondays

"Excuse me, sir
I did not order
this package here
on my porch border.

It's dull and harsh
now I feel grouchy
Please remove it
Don't be slouchy."

"I'm sorry, ma'am,
It's yours regardless
Apologies
it causes you stress.

But everyone
right after Sunday
receives a case
of unwanted Monday."

Saturday, July 18, 2009

It's a Good Thing My Mom's a Therapist

Five-year-old Nayna, while reading a Winnie the Pooh book to her uncle:

"Christopher Robin isn't in this book at all." Thoughtful pause. "I think he's hurt or dead."

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Tempting Fate

I'd really like Paranormalcy to sell.

I mean, umm, really really.

I've always had a tendency toward superstition. Even though I know it's irrational, it's still there. I thought I'd done everything I could to ensure success--great story, rewrites to tighten the plot, editing until the thing positively sparkled, awesome agent--but I realized there's one thing I haven't done. I have yet to tempt fate.

Unfortunately, most of the big, ridiculous things I could do--extra piercings, commemorative tattoos--are prohibited by my religion. Dang. So far the only thing I've come up with is that, if Para sells, I'll dye a strip of my hair purple. Or pink. Or some other fun-and-very-not-me color.

So I'm looking for suggestions. Public humiliation, non-permanent personal modification, something for the blog, whatever. Leave me a comment if you can come up with a better way for me to tempt fate into letting my book sell.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

The Mystery of John Green

I happen to be a fan of John Green. It's true. He's a phenomenal writer. He's also a very talented swearer, but that's neither here nor there.

However, something has been bothering me about him. I may or may not be ashamed to admit that I watch his YouTube videos and BlogTV chats whenever I possibly can, like when I should be working, or brushing my daughter's nightmare hair, or, well, yeah. The more I watched, the more I realized there was something...something tickling the edge of my brain but not quite connecting.

Then, as I rode in the car with a young boy singing the Dora theme song, it hit me.

Evidence:

John Green

  • Interesting hair
  • Likes to list things
  • Interacts with his viewers
  • Strangely adorable
  • TALKS LIKE HE IS ON THE VERGE OF YELLING AT YOU ALL THE TIME

Dora the Explorer

  • Interesting hair
  • Likes to list things
  • Interacts with her viewers
  • Strangely adorable
  • TALKS LIKE SHE IS ON THE VERGE OF YELLING AT YOU ALL THE TIME

Conclusion: Hank is NOT John Green's only sibling. And, even better, this means John has not only one but three long-lost-siblings, thanks to that special where Dora's mom popped out another couple of magically talk-yelling offspring!


I even have video proof to back up my claims. Watch these two videos and just try to tell me that these two aren't somehow related. AND THEN TRY YOUR HARDEST NOT TO SHOUT EVERYTHING YOU SAY.




(I should also point out that both Dora and John try their hardest to help you learn something through their videos. However, of the two, John is my preferred TALK YELLING person. And if he could somehow incorporate the phrase "Swiper, no swiping!" into his videos, I'm sure he'd win over any hold-out Dora fans.)

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Extreme Poetry: A Day Late

I didn't write poems yesterday,
it's true
But if you spent the night with Dojo
neither would you.

The prompt 3:33 AM from Storyqueen:

My eyes protest
it cannot be
the clock, it reads
3:33
my boy is breathing
so very loud
he would make
Darth Vader proud.


The prompt Yogurt from Whirlochre:

Once, in junior high
I forgot to bring a spoon
But yogurt needed eating
that lovely afternoon
Being smart and clever
I borrowed my drink's straw
and sucked that yogurt through it
into my awaiting maw.
It really was disgusting
and I'm sorry to say
that I still can't eat yogurt
to this very day.

And finally, Carrie Harris suggested the idea of being a midget in a land of giants:

I may not be able to reach
(despite trying with all my might)
the highest shelves in cupboards
But I'm more comfortable on flights
I never lack for leg room
I never hit my head
And I've yet to find my legs
dangling off the end of beds.

Sorry I don't have time for more, but I'm meeting the MoMos, my writing group, for lunch! Party. Hopefully someone else remembers a camera, because mine's in California.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Your Poems

You asked for them. I present: Extreme Poetry. A handful of poems based on the suggestions in the last post.

The Exuberant Giraffe (Suggested by Whirl)

This poor exuberant Giraffe
Is prone to the social gaffe
His short jokes are tacky
His sense of style, wacky
At least he can make us all laugh.


The Great Dance: An Epic Poem (Suggested by FairyHedgehog)

Vlog the Diminutive Troll
was on something of a roll
In each ballet contest
he was simply the best
All competition was bowled.

But one day, to his great dismay
around him leaped and sashayed
a goblin so graceful
whose dance was so tasteful
Vlog was crushed in the fan fray.

Nursing his wounds and his pride
Vlog crawled off determined to hide.
But soon, inspiration!
Then determination
Across the dance floor to glide.

No pirouettes for him now
a new beat had moved him somehow
He locked and he popped
he breaked, then he stopped
That goblin was so going down.

The day of the dance-off was here
Creatures came from far and near
The goblin was smokin'
But Vlog wasn't jokin',
Demanded the whole stage be clear.

His rhythm astounding and pure
This wasn't graceful or demure
The crowd watched in awe
The last thing they saw
Was Vlog's grand finale of pulling out his battle axe, massacring all of them, and declaring himself the Hip Hop Grand Champion.


Now for a change of pace, how about some free form?

A Donkey Named Sheba (Suggested by Kaotic)

Shackled and work worn
Walking in infinite circles
her gaze drifts away

In her dreams
a Queen

(Dude, I don't know about you, but I'm touched.)


And finally, as suggested by Whirl,

MoMo Hip Hop Puke Scoop Blues

Yesterday while at dinner
I caught my son's vomit
in a paper plate

Mad skills indeed
No clean up necessary
He tosses his cookies
I toss the plate
And everyone goes back to eating

Such is my life


And that concludes this round of Extreme Poetry. Thanks for playing!

Coming tomorrow: Something that makes sense! Then again, probably not.