A Writer's Thanksgivings

I am immensely thankful for all the things people normally think of:  my family, friends, faith, health, home, and job.  I’m sure I’m forgetting something (because I usually do), but those are the biggies that I give thanks for every day.  However, this Thanksgiving I am also thankful for things most “normal” people don’t consider.   By normal I mean people that aren’t writers … not that writers aren’t normal.   Okay, mostly normal.

I am thankful for the people, taking up residence in my head, who talk to me on a daily basis.  I am never bored and rarely lonely because they always have something to say and are eager to say it. 

I’m glad I get to experience all these budding romantic relationships, first hand, even though they don’t include me.  It’s like the ultimate fly-on-the-wall scenario.

I appreciate that I can gain insight into my life from the mistakes of fictitious people without having to go through all the angst and drama that they do.

I’m thankful (and, I admit, a little proud) that I know things like how to spell a lot, of course, and separate, and I know when to use you’re or your, they’re or their, and it’s or its. I do stumble over grammar more than a lot of writers, but not nearly as much as the average person.

Most importantly, I am grateful for all of the friendships I’ve made with other writers.  Be they online and abroad or in my local writing chapter, I’ve met some amazing people that have forever influenced the way I see writing and the world.

What are you thankful for this year?

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all,

Heather

Tiny Slips of Paper

“Hang on, my checkbook must be in here somewhere,” I told the thickly accented lady on the phone as I dug with one hand through an accumulation of tiny slips of paper.  It never ceases to amaze me how quickly I am able to collect the debris of life inside my purse or how long I am willing to carry it around with me everywhere I go.  When I hung up the phone, I weighed my bag in my hand and became aware of how heavy it had become. 

“That’s it!  I can’t take it anymore,” I told my two year old as he popped another grape in his mouth, perched on a barstool at the kitchen island. 

“That’s it,” he repeated, laughing. 

As I dug into my cleaning project I pulled out handfuls of receipts, grocery lists, to do lists, coupons, business cards, bills, prescriptions, and advertisements, then piled them all on the counter before me.  It was then that I realized, my life could be summed up by these tiny slips of paper.  Where I’ve been, what I’ve bought, what I need to do, what I worry about, it was all there in print in a crumpled pile of paper.   

Which leads me to my question of the day:  Are we living our lives in large murals or on tiny slips of paper?

Life gets distracting, or should I say the necessary paying of bills, going to doctor appointments, going to the grocery store, taking the kids to school, and getting work done part of life gets distracting.  And, it is all too easy to get caught up in the day to day minutia of life and forget to live.  I think life should be about family and friends, sunshine on your face and wind in your hair, laughter and silliness, and enjoying the beauty of the world around us.  As I put away all of life’s litter and prepared my purse to receive more tomorrow, I made a vow to live in large murals.  I will never get back this afternoon I spent with my little boy building towers and eating cookies, for this afternoon only happens once.  I will give my family hugs and tell them how much I love them.  I will make time to go for a walk.  I will call an old friend and laugh at something she says.  I will take a chance and be scared over the outcome.  I will go to a party where I don’t know anyone and have the time of my life.  I will try a new hobby, a new food, and a new style of shoes.  I will finish writing my manuscript!

We only have this one chance to live today to the fullest.  Don’t cheat yourself out of the good stuff in life by living your life within the confines of your tiny slips of paper.  What are your large murals?

How do I get back into writer-shape?

The month of October was a bust for me - writing wise.  I normally write in the afternoons and weekends, but last month it wasn’t happening.  At first, it was because I was so busy with work, family, and a sick child that I couldn’t squeeze in a spare moment anywhere.  Then, I admit, it was pure, unadulterated laziness.  I had the time, but not the desire.  Any free time was spent watching television, reading, or zoning out on the internet.  I couldn’t make myself commune with my characters.  Quite simply, I was burned out.  Real life and fiction life had gotten the best of me and I needed a break.  So, I took it.

As you might guess, the hard part isn’t taking the break; it’s coming off the break.  Looking back, I’d liken it to getting off your workout routine.  If you’ve sat around on the couch for a month, the idea of jumping back into half an hour of aerobics and half an hour of weight training every day is enough to keep your bum forever glued to the sofa.  When I thought about writing 2,000 words in a day, the task was too daunting.  Where would I find the time?  How could I make that many words come in the short time I have to write?

Instead, I scrapped all goals except for one.  “Write a little something today,” I told myself.  Or as Elizabeth said, “Just tell the story.”  Like going for a stroll in my neighborhood, I decided I’d get out and stretch my writing legs.  I ended up writing about 400 words that day.  The next day my goal was the same and I finished at just over 700 words.  Within the week, I was back on course with a daily average of 800-1000 words.  The take away?

1)       Avoid taking a month off from writing OR working out. J  It’s too long to be away from the habit.  Half the battle of working on a WIP is getting your cheeks in the seat and putting your fingers to the keys.  You’re better off writing some schwill that you can edit later than staring at a blank page.

2)      If something happens and you do wind up staying away too long, ease back into it.  For a lot of us newbies, the idea of 10,000 words in a week is overwhelming.  Focus on telling the story and honing your craft, and then the words will come.  

Besides, once you find a publisher, those hard and fast goals will come soon enough!

What are your writing habits?  Do you have a specific time of day, days of the week, or writing spot?  How do you get back into the habit if you’ve taken an extended break?

(picture by Henry Clive)

Invest In Thicker Curtains

My house sits on a quiet cul-de-sac in a neighborhood where the trees are still young and children are everywhere.  Because there are so many families here, we get hundreds of trick-or-treaters every October 31^st.  Last year we didn’t even have time to come inside between groups of children, and ended up leaning against the car with a giant bowl of candy.  So, this year I turned our problem into a party and hosted the first annual Halloween tailgate in my driveway.  We pulled out tables and chairs and I spent most of the day cooking and baking and baking and cooking.  It was shaping up to be an entertaining evening with the neighbors.  But I had no idea at the time just how entertaining it would become.

“Daddy went to the store to buy us fire,” my little 2 year old said, as he popped another piece of candy in his mouth.

Mr. Alpha Male had actually gone up to the Lowes with our next door neighbor to buy a fire pit because we were all freezing.  But, he got it right enough for a 2 year old, so I agreed.  And, soon the men were back from their manly errand, the fire pit was set up, and we were warming our fingers and toes, while the scent of wood smoke filled the cool night air.  It was the middle of the third bottle of wine and well after the children had collectively crashed from their sugar rushes and been tucked into bed.  Baby monitors and wine bottles covered the nearby table as the parents took a break at the end of a long day.  I had just taken a bite of warm buffalo chicken dip and was crunching the last of the chip left in my hand when I happened to look up and see something through the window of the house just around the bend from ours.  I took another sip of wine and wondered if I had already had too much and my imagination was running away with me.  The conversation and laughter continued to swirl around me, but I wasn’t listening to it anymore.  I had just seen my most prudish of neighbors, the ones that hardly ever leave the church and never socialize with the rest of us heathens, in the middle of a sexual act.  What sexual act?  Details, give us details, you may be screaming at your computer screen right now.  Well, since you asked…

The thin film of the living room window sheers hid nothing as she took him fully in her mouth; the silhouette of her head sliding up and down his shaft, as she moved with slow deliberate action.  He tensed then reached for her, clearly needing to feel connected to her, to the moment.  The living room light behind them illuminated their every movement as he ran his hands through her long hair, gripping, pulling.  Her pace increased and so did the size of my eyes; I elbowed my next door neighbor and quickly all conversation around the fire pit died as everyone turned and watched.  They readjusted their position and she straddled him.  His hands skimmed the outsides of her breasts as he ran them down to hold her waist and guide her into a wild rhythm of heart beats.  It was the rhythm of passion, the rhythm of sin.  They clung to one another as they reached for that peak just out of grasp.  She arched her back as he thrust into her once, twice, then she collapsed on him in a tangle of spent lust and satisfaction.  They left the room together and their house grew dark for the night.  

“Do you think he’ll come outside for a cigarette,” Mr. Alpha Male asked me.  Our Halloween tailgate party continued on into the early morning, but the evening’s unexpected entertainment was obviously over. 

Will I ever be able to say hello to my neighbor with a straight face again? 

Boo! Did I scare ya?!!

For years I loved a good horror movie and scary novel.  Okay, true confessions?  I was a bit of a junky. In my teens and twenties, I watched everything from the slasher films like Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Friday the 13^th to the ghost and demon filled movies like Amityville Horror, Rosemary’s Baby and The Omen.  I read everything by Stephen King and Dean Koontz, and I loved the crime novels of Patricia Cornwell.  When my college drama professor asked our class why we liked horror and thrillers, I had the oh so clever and insightful answer of, “I like to be scared.”  Dumbed down though it may sound, it was the truth.  At that time, I really enjoyed being scared out of my mind. 

My how times have changed!

I don’t know exactly when it happened (though I have a pretty good idea of why), but sometime around my thirtieth birthday, I lost my taste for the scary.  I couldn’t sit through the rental of Wolf Creek.  I literally had to leave the room.  I spent the last hour of that movie in my friend’s kitchen, reading the latest issue of People magazine.  I didn’t even bother entertaining the notion of going to see Saw II, The Hills Have Eyes, Last House on the Left, or any remakes or new editions with Freddie and/or Jason.  I could no longer read a thriller without having to sleep with the lights on or putting the book in the freezer like Joey on Friends.

You see, sometime around my third decade I realized that bad stuff really does happen.  All the time!  People really do get stalked and murdered and tortured.  It all became very real to me and suddenly, it really scared me.  I realized I wasn’t scared before, merely entertained.  NOW it’s scary and I don’t like to be scared!  Maybe it makes me an old fuddy duddy, but I’d rather watch comedies and romances.  When I want a thrill, I watch spy and action films. 

My attraction to the things that go bump in the night didn’t die completely though.  I do still like a good ghost story or movie this time of year.  They’re rarely graphic and they let me use my imagination.  Plus, I feel less threatened by the specter in the attic than the crazy man in the basement.

 Some of my all time scary favorites:

The Exorcist – the ultimate and a classic!

Amityville Horror

Poltergeist –TV static can be very unnerving.

The Shining – The book is just as scary (if not more so) as the movie!

How about you?  Do you like a good scary movie near Halloween or do you avoid them? What are some of your faves?