A Writer's Journal

Saturday, Feb. 20
Not capable of writing today, so I’m doing internet research. I’ve learned a lot of facts I hope I have enough sense not to put in the book. But they’re so interesting! Like, the word “galena” comes from Pliny. And only 12.8 miles of old Route 66 is in Kansas. Okay, I’m using that one. Dibs.

Sunday, Feb. 21
It’s been 21 days since I took a break. I’m down to the bottom of the well. Taking today and tomorrow off.

Tuesday, Feb. 23
Before work: I did it. I didn’t write, or think about writing for two days. Now to see if that was a good idea, or a bad idea. Bites nails.
After work: So the result of taking two days off is. . .drum roll. . .1,000 words on the chapter that was stuck, and 600 words on the (maybe) next book. I may have to do this again some time. ::Ironic smile::

Wednesday, Feb. 24
Before work: Too late, it’s already after work. Did a bit on the *next* book. Now off to work on the current one. I’m so relieved to know (kind of) how to handle this next scene. The characters are going to surprise each other and me, I think.
After work: They did surprise one another. Did they surprise me? No, I can’t say they did. I’d like it better if they did, but there’s still time. These difficult scenes are taking shape, even without that, however.

I wonder how long I’ll work on the *next* book, which would be my 4th “Kansas novel.” I seem to be getting to know a protagonist who is the most interesting (to me) and complex woman I’ve ever written. We’ll see. As long as the words come, I’ll write them down. The working title is Guardian of Ghosts.

Thursday, Feb. 25
After work: Trying something new. In between writing scenes, I’m writing small things to expand them. “Filler,” I suppose, but I’m concentrating on the writing, aiming for vivid bits that add texture & bring scenes to life. Not writing them in any order, just as I think of them; then plug them into ms. Increases daily output, extends workday, may mean less work later. Real purpose: make small stuff count more.

An example–a little bit of detail about the way a guitar player’s fingers/nails look and feel. It got playful and was fun (and funny) to write. I hope it’ll be good to read.

For some reason, it comes easier when I write these little bits away from the manuscript. first. I can relax with them, and let them play out, instead of feeling the pressure to make them fit in.

Meanwhile, the next book keeps offering up new bits and I keep writing them down. I’m almost afraid to think how wonderful it would be to have a big head start on the next one by the time I finish this one. Whispering. Emily Dickinson showed up today, in the form of my two favorite lines of her poetry: After great loss a formal feeling comes; the nerves sit ceremonial, like tombs. I have an idea for using it that I love so much I almost have to be suspicious of it, lol.

Friday, Feb. 26
Nancy Pickard After work: Wow. Another 900 words on the next one. But the big news is, I am officially at the halfway point of the current wip. 50,000+ words and 200+ pages. Now to get all this in as good shape as I can get it, and then move on to the next 50,000. Some of it’s still pretty rough. Very rough. Okay, crappy. I’m happy with crappy for now.

Saturday, Feb. 6
Middle of work: rewriting the rewriten scene from yesterday. It’s getting there, but I peeked at the pages that come next. Shouldn’t have done that. I had myself fooled into thinking they weren’t the usual crappy first draft pages. hahahahah
After work: I will never stop being impressed and mystified at how something in one part of a novel can mysteriously solve a problem or answer a question in another part, without the writer consciously figuring it out.

Sunday, Feb. 7
After work: I started this rewrite with 150 pp., and I’m hoping to get to 200 pp. by the end of it. So far, after a week, I have a net gain of. . .two pages. The challenge right now is to be patient, let scenes shrink/grow as needed without worrying about the end result. Everything’s improving, but slowly. Things are. . .as they are.

Monday, Feb. 8
After work: I’m such a conflict avoider, both in RL and it fiction. Thank goodness I don’t feel the need to add it to the scenes of my life the way I add it to my chapters.

Tuesday, Feb. 9
At work: sometimes when I get fuzzy on my plot, I skip forward and write several scenes of the ending to clear things up. I can’t do that this time. Pouts.
After work: Thank you, writers who do things better than I do. I’m reading Marilyn Robinson’s novel, Housekeeping, for the first time. She inspired me to be a better writer this afternoon. I’m very grateful. Brought the joy back. No more pouting.

Wednesday, Feb. 10
After work: Today a character finally talked about two things that haunt him, which just happen to be two things that made me write this book. I don’t know why the feelings are so strong; he doesn’t know, either. Maybe between us, we’ll find out.

Thursday, Feb. 11
Wallowing in good writing. Finished Housekeeping, now rereading John Gardner’s Grendel. It’s even better than I remembered. I’m devouring–monster-like–his spot-on descriptions of things. Not figures of speech, but outright descriptions that awe me, because he gets it So Right. Like, this one: “. . .lean wolves rise, glance at me awkwardly, and, neat of step as a lizard, sneak away.” I can see that. That’s what they do. Well, okay, there was one simile, and it was perfect: “neat of step as a lizard.”
After work: happy.

Friday, Feb. 12
After work: Wrote a thousand brand new, crappy words. Hugs them. Assures them they don’t have to remain crappy forever. Advises them to be patient.

Sunday, Jan. 24
Mid-work: More filling in, rearranging, moving scenes around, tying them together, thinking about timelines, paying attention to first lines and last lines of scenes, making sure settings feel real, double-checking emotional responses of characters, stuff like that. Suddenly I have 32,000 words. Virtue rewarded.
After work: After work: Okay, back up past 32,000 words the honest way. I want to make another trip to Cherokee County to see the area I’m writing about, but I thnk it can wait for spring.

Monday, Jan. 25
Driving to Lyons, Ks. for a speaking gig. Back tomorrow. Long drive, lots of yummy book-thinking, mmmmmm. And the wheels go ’round’n’round. Later: On the drive, I thought out two family trees and saw how they relate. Interesting. Then, scribbling at dinner tonight, I *met* some bad guys for the first time on the page. Scary dudes. I’m glad they’re imaginary. You should be glad, too. Then a lovely time with local peeps. Now my Mizzou is not beating my son’s Jayhawks. Decisively not beating them.

Tuesday, Jan. 26
This morning, I’m writing about the bad characters I met last night in my head during supper. They are so bad I feel nervous committing them to paper. This is probably good, right? I can always back off later if I’ve gone too far. They feel believable, though. Sorry to say they do. Okay, now to check out of motel and go search for a big breakfast in this town or another one.

Wednesday, Jan. 27
Before work: The scenes are backed up again. I love this. It hasn’t happened quite like this with any other book I’ve written. Can’t wait to get at them before the queue gets too long.
After work: Why am I so tired after so few hours of writing?

Thursday, Jan. 28
J.D. Salinger died?? I loved Nine Stories and Franny & Zooy so much. So much. I’m afraid to go back and reread them. I want to still love them forever, and maybe I won’t. He influenced me, though you’d never know it from my writing. RIP, strange storyteller.
After work: somehow managed 1,000 words in an hour, in between life stuff. New character who feels very unreal in those 1,000 words. I wonder what she’s really like? I’m leaving her as is for now, though. More will be revealed, I hope.

Re-reading Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories. Oh, man, she is so good I’m in awe. Her flashbacks don’t even read like flashbacks. That’s one fine quality, but there are so many.

Friday, Jan. 29
During work: The last few days have felt as if I’m writing weak, drifty scenes, without being sure where they go. Words, but words without focus. It just now occurred to me the heart of the problem is that I’m avoiding a pivotal, difficult scene that needs to be faced. Okay, I’m glad to know that, and I’ll get on it. After lunch.

Curses. Halfway to a book and I’ve hit the middle mud right on schedule. At least I can see the way out, for once. But getting there feels like dragging my boots through sludge. ::Picks up foot, knocks mud off boot, steps forward into the squish, picks up other foot.:: Bird by bird, step by muddy bloody step:: If anybody says anything cheerful, I’ll have to kill them.

Saturday, Jan. 9
Middle of work:
In an early draft of Scent, my editor said the heroine was self-absorbed. It was understandable, but unattractive. By opening her to thinking of others, I made her a more interesting character and better person, I think. I’m using that today, on this book. This also ties in with Don Maass’ reminder: it’s not an… event that makes a big book, it’s the extent of its impact on people that makes it “big.”
After work:
This is funny, but only because it ends well. Today I wrote a new scene and then discovered I had already written it! The new one is different, though, and a LOT better. If it weren’t, I’d have to shoot myself. At least I was able to steal a couple of paragraphs from the first one to give the second one.

Sunday, Jan. 10
Before work:
It’s time to clean up what I have so I can send it to my editor as my version of a proposal for my next novel. I figure 75 pp is plenty. Sally Goldenbaum is going to read and critique it for me, bless her.
After work:
Did it. Now we’ll see what Sally thinks. I already love these people. I’ll be sad if my editor doesn’t, but I think she will.

Monday, Jan. 11
Sally was the biggest help in one particular way: figuring out where I need to give the reader more info in early chapters. Very very helpful to get that new eye on the writing. No major changes. Whew.

Tuesday, Jan. 12
My editor loves it! Cartwheels! It’s a book. Or, will be in a few months.

Wednesday, Jan. 13
Lots goin’ on, so it’s been hard to post this week. Today, I worked on plot connections. As I did, scenes wanted to be written, so I stopped to write them. Kind of an odd way to work? Kind of a pleasure, though. Am pooped.

Thursday, Jan. 14
I feel as if I need to keep the lightest of reins on this book right now. Whatever it wants, it’s getting, short of bucking me off entirely. I feel like a very tired rider atop a very energetic pony. Damn, who put Red Bull in its feed? I guess all I can do is keep riding and watch out for tree branches. End of metaphor, I swear.

Friday, Jan. 15
I meant to write a Before Work post, but worked before I could post, lol. The scenes! They keep demanding to be written. Alright, already, calm down! No, no, wait, I don’t mean that, keep coming, please. Only 76,325 words to go. Git along little dogie.

Monday, Dec. 28
Before work: Work? I remember that. Okay, off to the coffee shop to. . .I’ll figure it out when I get there.
After work: Got back into the groove quickly. Working to get several chapters ready to show my editor in the hope she’ll approve this as next novel. Toughest thing today: a moment when a character hears shocking news. I find that kind of scene hard to write so it feels genuine. There was a moment I felt emotional for her, so maybe I got it. We’ll see when I go back and re-read it tomorrow.

Tuesday, Dec. 29.
Before work: Spooky coincidence #3: Yesterday I said it’s hard to write it right when a character gets bad news. This morning, for about 15 minutes, I thought I might be getting the worst news possible. All is well. (Collapses with relief.) And now I know what I need to add to that scene. Ack. This “everything is material” stuff is hard sometimes.
Late to work. Busy mulling what to work on besides that one little scene. I think I’ll tackle a new chapter and wrestle it to the floor. Maybe all dialogue for a first draft of it? I can see my characters, almost hear them talking, and I’m dying to meet one of them for the first time on the page. I think she’s Sylvia, but she says if I try to use that name, I’ll write her all wrong.
After work: So I started with dialogue, and now it’s more than 1,500 words later, and I’m very happy with my crappy first draft of a new chapter. Sylvia turned out to be Cathy. With a C.

Wednesday, Dec. 30
Apres shoveling, before work: Brush off the snow, then go work on that new chapter. It holds mysteries that are as yet hidden from me.
After work: Writing fiction is so funny/strange. For instance, in this new book there’s a motorcycle crash in which a guitarist/singer dies. I kept thinking I must put a guitar case at the scene, but it kept not wanting to go there. I kept trying. It kept refusing. Today it showed up at the place where he’d been just before the crash. It always knew where it was supposed to be. (Facebook comment from Margery Flax: You better not have killed Bruce Springsteen, she means, lol. I would never kill Bruce.

Thursday, Dec. 31
Before work: It’s funny. I have full or partial chapters 1,2,3,4, 6, 9, 10. I know what chapter 8 will be and may work on it today, but there are only big blank spaces for 5 & 7. Crucial scenes are waiting to reveal themselves. I sense them, but cannot see them. I am truly curious. What goes there?
After work: I finally got to meet the character I’ve been eager to meet, but only on the (fictional) phone so far. She seems funny, bawdy, kind, wise. She talks too loud. She’s over-dramatic about small things. I’m not sure we’d be friends in real life, since I tend to shy from extreme extroverts, but I hope I’d admire her from afar. Maybe I’ll go over to her house on New Year’s Day and eavesdrop when she has visitors.
(Facebook comment to mull, from Judy Wirzberger: She sounds like a great person to have at a piano bar. Sounds like the people I like to be around as they ask the questions I’m too timid to ask. Is she really that way or does she force herself to be that way so people won’t know how frightened she is?)

Friday, Jan. 1
Spooky#5: A character has wondered, in my head, why she misses omens of danger. This morning, a reader (Thank you, MJ & JJ) asked if I’ve ever known a killer or a liar. In the shower, I remembered a dream that warned me away from scam artists years ago. Another dream warned me away from a man who killed two people and himself. Now I know what to tell my character, and how to use it.
After work, after movie, after dinner: just enough energy left to say the revelations of the morning made all the difference in the work this afternoon. Now I have something in that previously-blank place between chapters 4 & 6. I hope the blank spot between 6 & 8 proves to be as interesting to fill.