Ah... the beauty of cheap, sweet bubbly. I'm going to be embarrassed tomorrow when I read this aren't I? Probably. Moving right along.
1) The BEST books I read in 2015 that weren't re-reads (I published a quick list of all my 5-stars-on-Goodreads books already.):
The Martian, Weir (completely fascinated me. Read it in one sitting. Was waiting for my teens to read the book before seeing the movie and now it's not in any theaters near us. DRAT.)
If You Only Knew, Higgins (a return to a more general fiction tone. Still romantic. I laughed and cried. And just so well written and compelling!)
Shards of Hope, Singh (part of the new direction the series is taking, now that Silence has fallen. You really have to have read at least the last few books before this one to get into it. ADEN! IS! SO! AWESOME!)
"Ghosts of Christmas Past" and "Luminous", Lawson (super hero romance. I love her novel-length books, but these two novellas really hit me just right.)
Me on Goodreads
2) But of course, the very best book of the year was The Indispensable Wife. You should definitely read it if you like: history, historical fiction, adventure, romance, spouses reunited, France, Louis XIV, the seventeenth century, uh... all that sort of stuff.
3) And there will be a new book, The Honorable Officer, coming soon. February? March? I should find out soon when. Go read the blurb HERE and mark it as to-read. Then buy it when you can. It's a good one. All the stuff above except the spouse part. They are forced together by danger to the plot moppet (I promise she has a personality and tantrums and such) and much of the story involves traveling. And there's a secondary love story.
4) This year, I have a bunch more projects coming along (Chevalier is early in the process. I am working on the info I need to give them for the cover and promo and everything).
5) I'm going to go all crazy and self-publish the Christmas romance novella I had out two years ago. It's contemporary and has ghosts. I'm thinking about self-pubbing the novella that goes between books 3 and 4 in my series, too. But shhhh (drunken whisper), that's a ssssecret.
6) I'm going to lose 15 pounds before I go to the RWA conference in San Diego in July. And once there, I'll be brave and hand out books and business cards. HERE YOU GO! READ MY BOOKS! And walk more (I got a Fitbit!). And eat less (Fitbit syncs with Fitness Pal!). And bitch less. And make my kids do more chores.
And so there's my bookish summary of 2015 and preview of 2016.
Happy New Year!
With love and hugs and some drunken giggling,
Philippa
Philippa Lodge, Author: Shapeshifter paranormal romance! Contemporary romance! Historical romance!
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Monday, December 28, 2015
Editing and plot holes
I've spent the last few days off and on working on an edit of my novella. 3.5 in the Châteaux and Shadows series, not yet contracted, the story of how Henri and his life partner, after ten years together, are still in love and grow closer as they are tested by physical ailments and the past popping up on them. It's more of a midlife crisis story, maybe?
By the way, Book 1, The Indispensable Wife, is out. If you are reading this on blogspot, you can find the links in the sidebar to your RIGHT. =======>
I spent most of yesterday moving and removing big sections to take a day out (to explain why the ladies of the family could not make it to support their sister-in-law during her labor and delivery) and to keep good old Papa from sweeping in and trying to solve their problems for them. But now I need to reduce the references to him from earlier in the book. I started out making him show up to make Henri a little crazy by butting in, but decided while moving the timeline around to leave Papa out of it. He's pushy and might swan his way back into a later draft, but he's a big deal in all the books up to now, so really, he needs to just back off, especially since the kids are fully functioning adults.
And again I refer to a blog post I wrote for Abigail Owen's blog about writing a Zipless Draft and how my editing process is more like a an editing blender.
Yes, I'm already writing notes to myself, mostly at the beginning of the novella, but a couple further on.
I need to figure out if Henri's lover (identity to be revealed in Book 2, which is why I'm being a little cagey about it) comes face to face with his first boyfriend's parents. They both ran away from Paris and joined the army because they were about to be arrested for being gay. The old boyfriend died in battle. And I just realized that I said something about the sister's husband moving into their shop. But now I have someone else as the partner in the shop. Oh, I'm so confused.
So anyway, plotholes still to be tweaked, but about ready to be submitted to my editor.
And THEN I will do as I intended earlier and revise Book 4. And I still need to finish the draft of Book....6? And I have ideas swirling for another novella and for a 7th book. If I had all the time in the world and less need to revise, I would be churning out novels like nobody's business.
And I LOVE all the hits I get on the blog. But I would LOVE even more to have a conversation in comments. So leave a comment. Tell me what to do.
By the way, Book 1, The Indispensable Wife, is out. If you are reading this on blogspot, you can find the links in the sidebar to your RIGHT. =======>
I spent most of yesterday moving and removing big sections to take a day out (to explain why the ladies of the family could not make it to support their sister-in-law during her labor and delivery) and to keep good old Papa from sweeping in and trying to solve their problems for them. But now I need to reduce the references to him from earlier in the book. I started out making him show up to make Henri a little crazy by butting in, but decided while moving the timeline around to leave Papa out of it. He's pushy and might swan his way back into a later draft, but he's a big deal in all the books up to now, so really, he needs to just back off, especially since the kids are fully functioning adults.
And again I refer to a blog post I wrote for Abigail Owen's blog about writing a Zipless Draft and how my editing process is more like a an editing blender.
Yes, I'm already writing notes to myself, mostly at the beginning of the novella, but a couple further on.
I need to figure out if Henri's lover (identity to be revealed in Book 2, which is why I'm being a little cagey about it) comes face to face with his first boyfriend's parents. They both ran away from Paris and joined the army because they were about to be arrested for being gay. The old boyfriend died in battle. And I just realized that I said something about the sister's husband moving into their shop. But now I have someone else as the partner in the shop. Oh, I'm so confused.
So anyway, plotholes still to be tweaked, but about ready to be submitted to my editor.
And THEN I will do as I intended earlier and revise Book 4. And I still need to finish the draft of Book....6? And I have ideas swirling for another novella and for a 7th book. If I had all the time in the world and less need to revise, I would be churning out novels like nobody's business.
And I LOVE all the hits I get on the blog. But I would LOVE even more to have a conversation in comments. So leave a comment. Tell me what to do.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
I would call it post-holiday blues...
I would call it post-holiday blues, but I pretty much never hit the non-blue portion of the holidays. That's not saying I didn't have many moments of happiness and light. And I'm not a huge prepper with a million details about Christmas that have to be JUST RIGHT OR WE'LL ALL SUFFER. And yet the day that I went to eight different stores (and into the grocery store 3 times) was a bit rough.
We saw Star Wars! And might see it again!
My kids got things they asked for! And I did, too!
I spent too much, but not huge amounts too much!
But now things are settling into the slow time between Christmas and New Year's, dragging on to the return to school. We have about ten days of freedom left and really need to do something with our time.
Like what?
Oh, editing the novella (I had massively good ideas about how to make the middle flow better and cut it shorter). I need to do the RWA chapter newsletter. And the kids need to do something, anything other than watch DVDs and play on the computers. ANYTHING.
I'm finding an online Driver's Ed class for my oldest (they don't do the classes in schools anymore at all, apparently). His 16th birthday is in a few days and he could have taken this class and the permit test and started practicing driving when he was 15 1/2. If he and his brother go to the same high school next year (and they should), it will be a relief to have him be able to drive them both on rainy days.
Speaking of which, I need to get the 8th grader signed up for high school. I need to find the papers I need for him. And he needs a new bike.
And oldest needs some birthday presents.
Oh, and we all need new passports.
And two kids need new shoes. I should check on the oldest one's shoes, too.
And there's a doctor's visit coming up and an insurance hassle to try to settle before that happens or we're going to have to postpone it. Two years of waiting for health insurance to be completely settled. I thought it finally was and scheduled checkups for kids. And BAM a letter in the mail. And my husband was getting mad at me because I was panicking. TWO YEARS.
So I do have things to do and need to come out of my under-blanket reading binge and do them.
Happy last few days of 2015!
We saw Star Wars! And might see it again!
My kids got things they asked for! And I did, too!
I spent too much, but not huge amounts too much!
But now things are settling into the slow time between Christmas and New Year's, dragging on to the return to school. We have about ten days of freedom left and really need to do something with our time.
Like what?
Oh, editing the novella (I had massively good ideas about how to make the middle flow better and cut it shorter). I need to do the RWA chapter newsletter. And the kids need to do something, anything other than watch DVDs and play on the computers. ANYTHING.
I'm finding an online Driver's Ed class for my oldest (they don't do the classes in schools anymore at all, apparently). His 16th birthday is in a few days and he could have taken this class and the permit test and started practicing driving when he was 15 1/2. If he and his brother go to the same high school next year (and they should), it will be a relief to have him be able to drive them both on rainy days.
Speaking of which, I need to get the 8th grader signed up for high school. I need to find the papers I need for him. And he needs a new bike.
And oldest needs some birthday presents.
Oh, and we all need new passports.
And two kids need new shoes. I should check on the oldest one's shoes, too.
And there's a doctor's visit coming up and an insurance hassle to try to settle before that happens or we're going to have to postpone it. Two years of waiting for health insurance to be completely settled. I thought it finally was and scheduled checkups for kids. And BAM a letter in the mail. And my husband was getting mad at me because I was panicking. TWO YEARS.
So I do have things to do and need to come out of my under-blanket reading binge and do them.
Happy last few days of 2015!
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Weather and skeletons
Because polite society spends a lot of time talking about the weather, Though these days, you can't discuss WHY the weather is weird, because it wouldn't be polite.
Anyway.
I did a minimal amount of research into the weather in 1690 in France (seriously, just needed the trend). Turns out it was part of a cooling trend that led to poor crops and hunger. I tossed a minor drought in so a drainage pond would be low and workers could discover a skeleton.
Because that's what happened recently in Folsom Lake.
Folsom Lake is near here and looks like this these days:
I live in Northern California, which means drought.
The dark red "D4 Exceptional Drought" covers where I live and up into the mountains where most of my water comes from. We've had some rain this winter (because it only rains in the winter here.) (OK, there is sometimes a little rain in other seasons, but it's negligible), but as you can see, we're far from refilling our reservoirs and aquifers.
I just wonder how long until they say we can't even water our trees. And how much longer we'll be not flushing toilets except when absolutely necessary. And how much longer corporations will get away with building bottled water plants here and insisting farmers get all "THEIR" water because that piece of land had a dude who put up a sign by the creek once in 1850 saying they get the water. Water rights are crazy weird out here. And there are too many people.
Now this is our predicted weather pattern this year:
I'm sorry that it will be dryer than usual in the Midwest where they grow lots of corn and stuff (I sound flippant, but that's where I'm from, that yellow blob there for Jan-Mar. And drought there is also a huge deal. I don't wish that on them AT ALL. Been there, done that.)
And yes, I do think about moving back there (for water and to be close to my parents), but now that I've lived in this area for 13 years (!?!) I have roots here, too. It's the longest I have lived anywhere since leaving my parents' home when I was 18 (and I kept going back there on breaks and between moves and so on. And still go back, but not often enough.). We've lived in this house longer than I lived in any house in my life, except maybe the house we lived in from before I was born until I was 11. It's about tied. Next spring, we'll have been here 12 years. No wonder I think of it almost as MINE.
But if it could just rain slowly and steadily here for the next three or four months that would be great.
Anyway.
I did a minimal amount of research into the weather in 1690 in France (seriously, just needed the trend). Turns out it was part of a cooling trend that led to poor crops and hunger. I tossed a minor drought in so a drainage pond would be low and workers could discover a skeleton.
Because that's what happened recently in Folsom Lake.
Folsom Lake is near here and looks like this these days:
 |
| Boat docks |
I live in Northern California, which means drought.
I just wonder how long until they say we can't even water our trees. And how much longer we'll be not flushing toilets except when absolutely necessary. And how much longer corporations will get away with building bottled water plants here and insisting farmers get all "THEIR" water because that piece of land had a dude who put up a sign by the creek once in 1850 saying they get the water. Water rights are crazy weird out here. And there are too many people.
Now this is our predicted weather pattern this year:
And yes, I do think about moving back there (for water and to be close to my parents), but now that I've lived in this area for 13 years (!?!) I have roots here, too. It's the longest I have lived anywhere since leaving my parents' home when I was 18 (and I kept going back there on breaks and between moves and so on. And still go back, but not often enough.). We've lived in this house longer than I lived in any house in my life, except maybe the house we lived in from before I was born until I was 11. It's about tied. Next spring, we'll have been here 12 years. No wonder I think of it almost as MINE.
But if it could just rain slowly and steadily here for the next three or four months that would be great.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Here comes the smolder
Otherwise, there's very little in common between Flynn Rider and Jean-Louis de Cantière.
But that's what I thought of when I first saw my new cover.
All the little bits and pieces of Jean-Louis' book are in. THE SMOLDER coming soon. We're hoping to have the release date set this weekend. Fingers crossed, because if it's not set by this weekend, I have to wait a couple of weeks while my publisher is on hiatus. I can't handle the suspense!
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Best of 2015!
Interesting. Goodreads has me pegged as having read fewer books this year than last by about 60 books. 138 books instead of 196. I still will probably read several more now that we're on Xmas break (YAY!) but not sixty. I've been falling asleep early even when I mean to stay up to read. (Last night, I didn't even turn my light out. I guess my husband did. I woke up in the wee hours with my book by my head when I rolled over on my rice sock heating pad.)
I also know I haven't put everything in Goodreads. I also don't always open up the review section to put in the finished date (or open it to change the date if I've reread something), so Goodreads doesn't pull the book correctly.
I've now exported my data and sorted it and added some end dates and came up with 141 books (then last night finished another book. 142.)
I did a massive glom reread of Jennifer Ashley's shifters books this summer. And an even more massive glom on Amanda Quick/Jayne Ann Krentz/Jayne Castle, mostly from her Arcane Society series. When I reread, I don't always change the date in Goodreads.
But still, I have been more busy this year. And I'm pretty sure there were a couple of books that I didn't finish which would have gone into a private spreadsheet, but which I didn't splash onto Goodreads.
Here I am making excuses that I averaged a bit over 1 book for every three days instead of less than 2 per book.
These are my Five-Star Rated Books for 2015. Mostly romance. Five are rereads. At least three are by real-life or online friends. Christmas in the Duke's Arms is an anthology and Grace Burrowes isn't the only author (I read a ton of anthologies, especially Christmas ones, and it's really rare for me to give one 5 stars because usually there are one or two stories I ADORE, but this one, while a little saggy in places, was overwhelmingly good). And I'm sure Jane Austen needs the shout-out from me to keep her career going. And I'm surprised I read no Joanna Bourne books this year at all. I knew I needed to reread them (and she needs to write faster!).
So here we go:
| The Christmas Knot: A Slightly Gothic Regency Mystery Romance Novella | Barbara Monajem |
| The Martian | Andy Weir |
| The Rosie Project (Don Tillman #1) | Graeme Simsion |
| If You Only Knew | Kristan Higgins |
| The Viscount's Christmas Temptation (The Dukes of War, #1) | Erica Ridley |
| Lion Eyes (Shifters Unbound, #7.25) | Jennifer Ashley |
| The Perfect Poison (Arcane Society, #6) | Amanda Quick |
| Second Sight (Arcane Society, #1) | Amanda Quick |
| Shards of Hope (Psy-Changeling, #14) | Nalini Singh |
| After the War (Homefront, #2) | Jessica Scott |
| Making a Comeback (More Than a Game, #3) | Kristina Mathews |
| The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie (MacKenzies & McBrides, #1) | Jennifer Ashley |
| Ghosts of Christmas Past (The Phoenix Institute, #3.5) | Corrina Lawson |
| Luminous (The Phoenix Institute, #1.5) | Corrina Lawson |
| Christmas in the Duke's Arms | Grace Burrowes |
| A MacKenzie Clan Gathering (MacKenzies & McBrides, #8.5) | Jennifer Ashley |
| Here Comes Trouble (Tremayne Family, #2) | Anna J. Stewart |
| Persuasion | Jane Austen |
| Unlocked (Turner, #1.5) | Courtney Milan |
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Running up to Christmas
Run run run!
As of last night, the round of fun stuff and obligations is done. Still a good deal of present-buying and other preparations to go, but so far, so good. Just some plain sugar cookies to roll out, cut, and bake for my second-grader's class to decorate tomorrow.
The big problem is that in spite of parties and decorations, I'm just not feeling the seasonal excitement. Part of that is living in the Inland Valley of California, where summer is HOT and winter is mild. I grew up in Ohio. Cold means cold. Frost, ice, and (sometimes) snow mean Christmas.
It has gotten below freezing maybe three times so far. I just brought my rubber tree plant "Whoops" inside before it got more frost damage than it already has. I immediately had to use Nature's Miracle no-marking spray (cinnamon and lemon grass stench) on it to keep the young cat from chewing on the leaves, as it might be a variety that's toxic to pets and the young cat is dumb and immediately started chewing. The smell is giving middle child a headache.
Maybe I should crank up the Hallelujah Chorus or some Madrigals. I should at least get gifts in the mail to distant family. One is sent already, but not the others. I don't even know what I'm getting for my nephews. Gift cards, probably. The exchange of Game Stop gift cards is becoming something of a ritual. We send some to them, they send some to us.
Maybe I'll just glom some more Christmas romance novellas. I looooove Christmas romance novellas. I'm thinking of writing one for next year. So I need to research Christmas traditions in 17th century France.Hmmm... anyone have resources on 17th century Catholic Christmas traditions?
So a rousing BAH HUMBUG to all and off to do errands.
As of last night, the round of fun stuff and obligations is done. Still a good deal of present-buying and other preparations to go, but so far, so good. Just some plain sugar cookies to roll out, cut, and bake for my second-grader's class to decorate tomorrow.
The big problem is that in spite of parties and decorations, I'm just not feeling the seasonal excitement. Part of that is living in the Inland Valley of California, where summer is HOT and winter is mild. I grew up in Ohio. Cold means cold. Frost, ice, and (sometimes) snow mean Christmas.
It has gotten below freezing maybe three times so far. I just brought my rubber tree plant "Whoops" inside before it got more frost damage than it already has. I immediately had to use Nature's Miracle no-marking spray (cinnamon and lemon grass stench) on it to keep the young cat from chewing on the leaves, as it might be a variety that's toxic to pets and the young cat is dumb and immediately started chewing. The smell is giving middle child a headache.
 |
| Everyone knows an ant can't move this. |
Maybe I'll just glom some more Christmas romance novellas. I looooove Christmas romance novellas. I'm thinking of writing one for next year. So I need to research Christmas traditions in 17th century France.Hmmm... anyone have resources on 17th century Catholic Christmas traditions?
So a rousing BAH HUMBUG to all and off to do errands.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Meta-post: Talking about the Internet ON the Internet.
It's so Meta!
I was on Twitter last night and jumped into a discussion started by an author who thought that there should be fewer books about women going home to small towns and deciding to stay there and more about women who go back to the small town and realize how happy they are in the city. It melded with another discussion people were having about Lifetime or Hallmark or something TV movies always having the woman give up everything for her true love.
And I was attempting to make a point in about 60 characters at a time because there were four other people in the discussion and when you replied, all their user names were part of the message. So I said about half a sentence, then added a couple more tweets, then someone jumped down my throat...for the first one. And by this time, there were tweets I was not tagged in and so I was clicking around trying to pick up the thread of conversation and not really able to go back and say: "SOME people. I said SOME."
Twitter is about impossible to have a nuanced discussion on. Even Facebook makes more sense by grouping the messages so you can actually follow what was said. And my blog...ah, I can prose on endlessly. Prosy prosy prosy old bore.
So anyway, for the record: I believe in women and feminism and the basic precept that all humans are created equal. And I also know that some women choose to give up their other dreams to follow the love of their lives. I also know that some women (AND MEN) are willing to compromise and find a new path forward, if that path can include their life partner.
I also know that though I think romance novels are (in general. NOT ALL) by women, for women, about women and, as such, inherently feminist (constructing our own narrative!), there are a lot of women out there who have chosen (through their own ideals or societal expectations) to take a secondary role. And that these women might also read and write romance.
I'm also endlessly fascinated by the women in historical novels who fit into their society's boundaries and yet push against the boundaries when they get uncomfortable. I'm not talking the "fallen" women--no wait, I am talking about them, too--but more about the ones who have it all, or as much as they could have of "IT" when their society thoroughly hemmed them in.
A fulfilling career/occupation, a happy family, friends, society's approbation (or at least not open disapprobation), and true love.
When my character Aurore gets back together with Dominique (Indispensable Wife. Go read it), she's going back to her sometimes stifling place in the court and her role as second to her husband. BUT this is a woman who LOVES the court. She LOVES people. She is the public face of her family. She's the PR front woman, the spokesperson (along with one of her brothers and her father) of the extended clan. She is the one who makes life easy for her husband, who is reserved and outwardly cold and doesn't know all the important gossip. I can imagine Aurore as a party planner or in PR or...no, not a politician because she's not that ruthless.
But the heroine in my second book, The Honorable Officer (Out in early 2016), Hélène... I wrote her and still have trouble with her. How's that for honesty? She's crushingly shy, in part because she's been crushed down. But she has this core of loyalty that makes her leave everything that's safe and take her toddler niece, whom she has raised from birth, to unknown places to get her out of danger. And in doing so, she starts her journey toward her own core of strength. With a little support and love, she learns to speak her mind and fight back. What she wants is a safe nest to hide in. And she wants her baby to be safe. And she wants Jean-Louis, but has never been able to get his attention.
I have a feeling she is going to come off as unreconstructed and a doormat. BUT she is getting what she wants. WHAT SHE WANTS. Which isn't exactly what I ever wanted, but then I sure as HECK never wanted to be the PR frontwoman or party planner like Aurore. I'd much rather have a safe nest and happy kids....and my laptop to write books on.
I think the heroine of Book 3 (Chevalier...coming soon to a contract near you!), Catherine de Fouet, is a bit more like me. She's gotten on as best she could in life and has plans for the future. She's bitchy and sometimes ungrateful, even to the grouchy old ladies who have kept her on as a companion, but though she's mostly invisible, she can hold her head up and doesn't have a bad reputation. My critique partner thinks she's not likable enough, so I've tried to make it clearer WHY she's putting up all these walls and jabbing out at people to protect herself (besides that her mentor is the cranky, spiteful baronesse). And what Catherine wants is to keep her nose clean until she has enough money to repair her house in Normandy and live there. Her vision doesn't include a Cranky Cavalier who stomps around and smells of horse and pushes everyone away. And though the same critique partner thought he was too whiny, he almost always kept his complaints inside his head AND he stops feeling hard-done-by and more accepting, understanding, and even grateful.
I was on Twitter last night and jumped into a discussion started by an author who thought that there should be fewer books about women going home to small towns and deciding to stay there and more about women who go back to the small town and realize how happy they are in the city. It melded with another discussion people were having about Lifetime or Hallmark or something TV movies always having the woman give up everything for her true love.
And I was attempting to make a point in about 60 characters at a time because there were four other people in the discussion and when you replied, all their user names were part of the message. So I said about half a sentence, then added a couple more tweets, then someone jumped down my throat...for the first one. And by this time, there were tweets I was not tagged in and so I was clicking around trying to pick up the thread of conversation and not really able to go back and say: "SOME people. I said SOME."
Twitter is about impossible to have a nuanced discussion on. Even Facebook makes more sense by grouping the messages so you can actually follow what was said. And my blog...ah, I can prose on endlessly. Prosy prosy prosy old bore.
So anyway, for the record: I believe in women and feminism and the basic precept that all humans are created equal. And I also know that some women choose to give up their other dreams to follow the love of their lives. I also know that some women (AND MEN) are willing to compromise and find a new path forward, if that path can include their life partner.
I also know that though I think romance novels are (in general. NOT ALL) by women, for women, about women and, as such, inherently feminist (constructing our own narrative!), there are a lot of women out there who have chosen (through their own ideals or societal expectations) to take a secondary role. And that these women might also read and write romance.
I'm also endlessly fascinated by the women in historical novels who fit into their society's boundaries and yet push against the boundaries when they get uncomfortable. I'm not talking the "fallen" women--no wait, I am talking about them, too--but more about the ones who have it all, or as much as they could have of "IT" when their society thoroughly hemmed them in.
A fulfilling career/occupation, a happy family, friends, society's approbation (or at least not open disapprobation), and true love.
When my character Aurore gets back together with Dominique (Indispensable Wife. Go read it), she's going back to her sometimes stifling place in the court and her role as second to her husband. BUT this is a woman who LOVES the court. She LOVES people. She is the public face of her family. She's the PR front woman, the spokesperson (along with one of her brothers and her father) of the extended clan. She is the one who makes life easy for her husband, who is reserved and outwardly cold and doesn't know all the important gossip. I can imagine Aurore as a party planner or in PR or...no, not a politician because she's not that ruthless.
But the heroine in my second book, The Honorable Officer (Out in early 2016), Hélène... I wrote her and still have trouble with her. How's that for honesty? She's crushingly shy, in part because she's been crushed down. But she has this core of loyalty that makes her leave everything that's safe and take her toddler niece, whom she has raised from birth, to unknown places to get her out of danger. And in doing so, she starts her journey toward her own core of strength. With a little support and love, she learns to speak her mind and fight back. What she wants is a safe nest to hide in. And she wants her baby to be safe. And she wants Jean-Louis, but has never been able to get his attention.
I have a feeling she is going to come off as unreconstructed and a doormat. BUT she is getting what she wants. WHAT SHE WANTS. Which isn't exactly what I ever wanted, but then I sure as HECK never wanted to be the PR frontwoman or party planner like Aurore. I'd much rather have a safe nest and happy kids....and my laptop to write books on.
I think the heroine of Book 3 (Chevalier...coming soon to a contract near you!), Catherine de Fouet, is a bit more like me. She's gotten on as best she could in life and has plans for the future. She's bitchy and sometimes ungrateful, even to the grouchy old ladies who have kept her on as a companion, but though she's mostly invisible, she can hold her head up and doesn't have a bad reputation. My critique partner thinks she's not likable enough, so I've tried to make it clearer WHY she's putting up all these walls and jabbing out at people to protect herself (besides that her mentor is the cranky, spiteful baronesse). And what Catherine wants is to keep her nose clean until she has enough money to repair her house in Normandy and live there. Her vision doesn't include a Cranky Cavalier who stomps around and smells of horse and pushes everyone away. And though the same critique partner thought he was too whiny, he almost always kept his complaints inside his head AND he stops feeling hard-done-by and more accepting, understanding, and even grateful.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
What day is it??
No, I didn't mean that as the prompt to post a picture of a camel and announce it's "Hump Day".
I meant... what day is it?
The end of a semester and approach of Winter Break and Christmas and New Year (and my oldest son's birthday) mean I'm constantly wondering what day it is, because each day is an intricate dance involving juggling and time travel. Teleportation would be good, too. My sons keep talking about it, but still haven't invented it yet. Come on, guys!
My Google Calendar gets a workout. I put everything in it and then go moment by moment and day by day.
Yesterday, for example: (* indicates things that aren't part of my usual schedule)
Normal school morning, Oldest rode bike to school, middle got a ride to his classes, I drove youngest.
*Check out possible meeting site for RWA chapter.
Usual Tuesday "day off" chores including sorting at least 3 weeks' worth of laundry (I got behind on Tuesdays, OK? Nanowrimo eats up that time) while watching a movie on DVD. Editing. Chores.
*Go to dollar store to return some stuff, find out they don't do refunds, only exchanges. Round up exactly the right number of new items, including some present-decorating items.
Pick up youngest at school.
*Go to pottery place to pick up the things youngest painted there a couple of weeks ago.
*Go to Barnes and Noble to wrap packages in return for donations to Friends of the Library. For five hours. Call husband in the middle to come get daughter.
*Pick up middle child who is still at his friend's house and not doing his math homework. Talk to him for 10 minutes, which is all I've seen of him since I left the house at 8 AM.
*Return home at 9:45 PM.
*Knock on oldest's door to learn about his schedule, since I haven't seen him since 7:20 AM.
Get ready for bed.
Read until calmed and exhausted. About half an hour this time...
This morning:
Starts out as normal school morning. Oldest leaves on bike.
*Youngest has a headache. Her face is warm. She has a temperature of about 99.7. Not going anywhere. I call the school. Cancel plans to meet homeschool friends for coffee. Have supervisor come here instead. Fingers crossed it's mild and leaves soon and it's just a reaction to Monday's flu shot.
Though the illness does help with juggling youngest's after school choir practice: she's not going. I do hope she's better tomorrow because that's when the choir concert is!
And it's supposed to rain tomorrow (YAY!), so we're juggling getting oldest to and from school. (BOO!)
That's pretty much how this week looks, but every day is a different heap of stuff. It will culminate Monday evening, when I have two things at the same time.
Where is Hermione's time-turner when I need it?
And I ask again: What Day Is It??
I meant... what day is it?
The end of a semester and approach of Winter Break and Christmas and New Year (and my oldest son's birthday) mean I'm constantly wondering what day it is, because each day is an intricate dance involving juggling and time travel. Teleportation would be good, too. My sons keep talking about it, but still haven't invented it yet. Come on, guys!
My Google Calendar gets a workout. I put everything in it and then go moment by moment and day by day.
Yesterday, for example: (* indicates things that aren't part of my usual schedule)
Normal school morning, Oldest rode bike to school, middle got a ride to his classes, I drove youngest.
*Check out possible meeting site for RWA chapter.
Usual Tuesday "day off" chores including sorting at least 3 weeks' worth of laundry (I got behind on Tuesdays, OK? Nanowrimo eats up that time) while watching a movie on DVD. Editing. Chores.
*Go to dollar store to return some stuff, find out they don't do refunds, only exchanges. Round up exactly the right number of new items, including some present-decorating items.
Pick up youngest at school.
*Go to pottery place to pick up the things youngest painted there a couple of weeks ago.
*Go to Barnes and Noble to wrap packages in return for donations to Friends of the Library. For five hours. Call husband in the middle to come get daughter.
*Pick up middle child who is still at his friend's house and not doing his math homework. Talk to him for 10 minutes, which is all I've seen of him since I left the house at 8 AM.
*Return home at 9:45 PM.
*Knock on oldest's door to learn about his schedule, since I haven't seen him since 7:20 AM.
Get ready for bed.
Read until calmed and exhausted. About half an hour this time...
This morning:
Starts out as normal school morning. Oldest leaves on bike.
*Youngest has a headache. Her face is warm. She has a temperature of about 99.7. Not going anywhere. I call the school. Cancel plans to meet homeschool friends for coffee. Have supervisor come here instead. Fingers crossed it's mild and leaves soon and it's just a reaction to Monday's flu shot.
Though the illness does help with juggling youngest's after school choir practice: she's not going. I do hope she's better tomorrow because that's when the choir concert is!
And it's supposed to rain tomorrow (YAY!), so we're juggling getting oldest to and from school. (BOO!)
That's pretty much how this week looks, but every day is a different heap of stuff. It will culminate Monday evening, when I have two things at the same time.
Where is Hermione's time-turner when I need it?
Friday, December 4, 2015
On old language, on old customs, and on fleek
I so wanted to say my heroine was a "deer in the headlights" when the king looked at her. But she's a 17th century young lady. No headlights. (I mean other than *snerk* sophomoric humor. I said HEADLIGHTS!)
And I very nearly said they were "going full steam ahead" the other day. Yeah.... no.
Some days, I have to think about it.
Should I say "subconscious"? (No.)
How do I describe a panic attack? (By the symptoms. This section needs work, because I think she sounds more like she has asthma. And it's my work in progress, so I haven't figured out exactly what caused her to have panic attacks.)
Did they have chiropractors in the 17th century? (No. But I have a midwife teach stretches when the surgeons and physicians fail my character.)
How about opium? (It was just starting to appear as a medicine.)
And coffee? Tea? (Mostly the wealthy. Mme de Sévigné liked coffee with lots of milk and sugar. She also liked it weak, then chewed the grounds in the bottom. URG.)
AND CHOCOLATE??? (Also for the wealthy. As a drink and closely associated with coffee. Louis XIV brewed up his own in his rooms.)
And if you think that scientists can't agree on if coffee, tea, and chocolate are good for you nowadays, you should see the difference in opinions of the 17th century. I've been flipping through Orientalism in Early Modern France, by Ina Baghdiantz McCabe on Google books as I wait for it to come through Link+ at the library. Coffee's the best thing in the world! It's going to kill you! It makes you strong! It makes you weak!
So anyway, I am trying to keep to old expressions. I'm sure there are errors in the age of words that I use. I know my language is 20th/21st century, besides not being French. Heck, even my French expressions aren't necessarily period-correct. A French-speaking friend asked my if they would really have said "putain de merde" (and no, I won't translate), and I honestly had no idea. They were probably saying something much much worse. No one says "OK" and I have never even considered describing someone, no matter how prettily their hair stuck up, as "on fleek."
And I very nearly said they were "going full steam ahead" the other day. Yeah.... no.
Some days, I have to think about it.
Should I say "subconscious"? (No.)
How do I describe a panic attack? (By the symptoms. This section needs work, because I think she sounds more like she has asthma. And it's my work in progress, so I haven't figured out exactly what caused her to have panic attacks.)
Did they have chiropractors in the 17th century? (No. But I have a midwife teach stretches when the surgeons and physicians fail my character.)
How about opium? (It was just starting to appear as a medicine.)
And coffee? Tea? (Mostly the wealthy. Mme de Sévigné liked coffee with lots of milk and sugar. She also liked it weak, then chewed the grounds in the bottom. URG.)
AND CHOCOLATE??? (Also for the wealthy. As a drink and closely associated with coffee. Louis XIV brewed up his own in his rooms.)
And if you think that scientists can't agree on if coffee, tea, and chocolate are good for you nowadays, you should see the difference in opinions of the 17th century. I've been flipping through Orientalism in Early Modern France, by Ina Baghdiantz McCabe on Google books as I wait for it to come through Link+ at the library. Coffee's the best thing in the world! It's going to kill you! It makes you strong! It makes you weak!
So anyway, I am trying to keep to old expressions. I'm sure there are errors in the age of words that I use. I know my language is 20th/21st century, besides not being French. Heck, even my French expressions aren't necessarily period-correct. A French-speaking friend asked my if they would really have said "putain de merde" (and no, I won't translate), and I honestly had no idea. They were probably saying something much much worse. No one says "OK" and I have never even considered describing someone, no matter how prettily their hair stuck up, as "on fleek."
 |
| Though this guy is definitely on fleek. |
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
NaNoWriMo is OVER
And I WIN!!!!
A month ago, I wrote a blog for someone else and then used it here and in my RWA chapter newsletter about How To Win (and how not to freak out).
And, since I'm awesome, I managed to win. New to me this year: I actually wrote EVERY day. There were days with about 500 words, but that meant I sat down and did it, in spite of everything. There were some really rocking days with over 3000 words.
Well, I wrote every day up until I validated on the 27th.
Because I had the galley copy of Honorable Officer in my inbox smoldering at me, waiting for its read through. Yes, Jean-Louis, I'm coming for you, my tall, blond, and handsome hunk of honor and intensity. *phew* And there's this guy who's his aide-de-camp and is about the smartest guy in any room. I adore Fourbier. And he finds someone to love, too. Bonus love story!
The best part of NaNoWriMo is the camaraderie: the commiseration and the joy.
I have a friend who finished on the 30th by writing 9000+ words just that day, in spite of working full time. And friend's daughter, who's about 15 finally confessed that the reason she hadn't done her homework all month was because she was writing and had just won with 50K words. I love writing, but I'm not half as dedicated as those two.
So anyway, off to do read my galleys with an eagle eye. Or... eagles see better long-distance, right? What looks at things super close up? Hmmm...
And, since I'm awesome, I managed to win. New to me this year: I actually wrote EVERY day. There were days with about 500 words, but that meant I sat down and did it, in spite of everything. There were some really rocking days with over 3000 words.
Well, I wrote every day up until I validated on the 27th.
Because I had the galley copy of Honorable Officer in my inbox smoldering at me, waiting for its read through. Yes, Jean-Louis, I'm coming for you, my tall, blond, and handsome hunk of honor and intensity. *phew* And there's this guy who's his aide-de-camp and is about the smartest guy in any room. I adore Fourbier. And he finds someone to love, too. Bonus love story!
The best part of NaNoWriMo is the camaraderie: the commiseration and the joy.
I have a friend who finished on the 30th by writing 9000+ words just that day, in spite of working full time. And friend's daughter, who's about 15 finally confessed that the reason she hadn't done her homework all month was because she was writing and had just won with 50K words. I love writing, but I'm not half as dedicated as those two.
So anyway, off to do read my galleys with an eagle eye. Or... eagles see better long-distance, right? What looks at things super close up? Hmmm...
Friday, November 27, 2015
Cover reveal: Honorable Officer
He’ll do anything to save his daughter, even fall in love.
France, 1668
Hélène de Bonnefoi’s spirit has been squashed by the ever-critical
aunt and uncle who raised her. Serving as her niece's nanny and stand-in mother
saved her from the convent and gave her purpose even after the girl’s mother
died. When suspicious accidents threaten the toddler, Hélène overcomes her
debilitating shyness to seek the help of the one man who should put the child's
safety ahead of all other concerns, her father, the colonel.
Jean-Louis, Colonel de Cantière, has spent his life proving his
worth, integrity, and honor within his family when he was a child and in Louis
XIV’s army as an adult. When his daughter’s aunt appears in his camp during a
siege, claiming someone is trying to kill the girl, his loyalty to king,
regiment, and family are sorely tested.
Hélène must convince Jean-Louis that the threat is real. But
the true danger is to the heart of a shy young woman who has always loved her
cousin’s husband from afar and to the colonel’s desire to resist complicated
emotions.
Available soon for pre-order.
When?
I'm not sure.
Soon.
We're doing galleys now.
I'm guessing that if everything goes smoothly with galleys, it will be scheduled for February.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Thankfulness
Because everybody's doing it, right?
And because I am grateful for a lot of things in my life and don't express it enough.
Where do I start? With my view.
I'm thankful for my view.
It means I have a house in the suburbs (rented). Which means that we have money to pay for a house.
I also live in a place that is sunny most of the time. And our winters are mild here. Right now it's SOOOOO cold! 43 degrees! (That's, uh, 5 or 6 to those who count in Celsius). As you can see, I have green leaves on my lantana bush. The bush dies back due to frost, but we haven't had that yet. It went below freezing last night, but didn't seem to kill off any of my plants, even the arugula in the flower pot out back. It was a salad mix seed pack and all I got was arugula. BLEAH. I'm thankful that I am rich enough to both garden and reject the food from my garden. Well, I do eat it--I mix a little arugula in with the more normal salad. I moved the butter-something lettuce flower pot indoors. It should only be a few days before we eat it all, because I don't have a sunny spot for it except my work table and neither I nor the cats want to give up that spot to lettuce.
We live close to the greenbelt and get turkeys in our yard every day, along with a variety of smaller birds. And sometimes coyotes and big, huge deer. I don't know the variety. What kind of deer lives wild around here? Something mule deer? Columbian Black-tailed Deer, according to Google. Or maybe Mule Deer, though it sounds like those are up in the foothills. One site mentioned they interbreed. So, you know--deer.
In the first picture is my old blue car. We have a newer one in the garage, too!
The blue car is parked on my driveway instead of the street because the electric company has been digging trenches and replacing cables. I live in a peaceful society with adequate, modern utilities. The garbage can, mailbox, and paved street also attest to this.
Inside my house, I have three kids who are mostly happy and mostly healthy. I also have a husband, who is likewise. They are playing on computers--except the husband, who is asleep because he stayed up late working on his computer. Thankful for computers. Thankful for enough computers for each child, which reduces but doesn't eliminate arguments.
And thankful for education, mine and my kids'. And even when the school-based education system hasn't worked for my middle child, our classes and supplies are funded through the state anyway. And we have enough money for me to stay home and teach him and to drive him to classes.
I have a fluffy old lady cat half asleep on my table in the sun. I have an adolescent cat looking out the window and occasionally batting at the old one because he can't resist pestering her. He's growing up and learning that he'd better not wake her up when she's all the way asleep. That's no fun.
I'm drinking coffee. I ate breakfast, as I do every morning. I'll have lunch later, no question. I'm not the type who forgets to eat. This afternoon/evening, I'll have a huge dinner.
I'll have a huge dinner with friends. I have friends. It's great. I have close friends and a larger circle of friends whom I don't see often and an even larger circle of acquaintances with whom I can talk and laugh at writer's group or while we wait for our kids at various school/sports/social events. I'm an introvert and have a hard time trusting, but I do like most people.
I wish I were closer to my family, but I'm even thankful for that, since I have family and I like them. I'm going to visit my parents in my hometown this summer. My mom is my biggest fan. My brothers and sisters are interesting people, even the ones I haven't seen in years. My dad is pretty much silent, but always provided for us.
I'm thankful for the time and energy to write books. I'm extra thankful for the publisher who is publishing my books. I still have to learn how to do marketing and I still have to figure out how to make people notice my books and buy them and love them and get their friends to buy them. But my editor gives good advice for making my books better, there are a copy editor and line editor who fix the typos (and the non-standard commas), there's a book cover designer who does nice work, there are formatting people who get the book out in all formats, there are publicity people who trumpet our books all around.
By the way, there's a 40% off sale on ebooks from the Wild Rose Press website. Buy mine, of course, if you haven't already.
And I'm thankful for life and safety.
And because I am grateful for a lot of things in my life and don't express it enough.
Where do I start? With my view.
It means I have a house in the suburbs (rented). Which means that we have money to pay for a house.
I also live in a place that is sunny most of the time. And our winters are mild here. Right now it's SOOOOO cold! 43 degrees! (That's, uh, 5 or 6 to those who count in Celsius). As you can see, I have green leaves on my lantana bush. The bush dies back due to frost, but we haven't had that yet. It went below freezing last night, but didn't seem to kill off any of my plants, even the arugula in the flower pot out back. It was a salad mix seed pack and all I got was arugula. BLEAH. I'm thankful that I am rich enough to both garden and reject the food from my garden. Well, I do eat it--I mix a little arugula in with the more normal salad. I moved the butter-something lettuce flower pot indoors. It should only be a few days before we eat it all, because I don't have a sunny spot for it except my work table and neither I nor the cats want to give up that spot to lettuce.
 |
| Well, who would give up this spot? |
We live close to the greenbelt and get turkeys in our yard every day, along with a variety of smaller birds. And sometimes coyotes and big, huge deer. I don't know the variety. What kind of deer lives wild around here? Something mule deer? Columbian Black-tailed Deer, according to Google. Or maybe Mule Deer, though it sounds like those are up in the foothills. One site mentioned they interbreed. So, you know--deer.
In the first picture is my old blue car. We have a newer one in the garage, too!
The blue car is parked on my driveway instead of the street because the electric company has been digging trenches and replacing cables. I live in a peaceful society with adequate, modern utilities. The garbage can, mailbox, and paved street also attest to this.
Inside my house, I have three kids who are mostly happy and mostly healthy. I also have a husband, who is likewise. They are playing on computers--except the husband, who is asleep because he stayed up late working on his computer. Thankful for computers. Thankful for enough computers for each child, which reduces but doesn't eliminate arguments.
And thankful for education, mine and my kids'. And even when the school-based education system hasn't worked for my middle child, our classes and supplies are funded through the state anyway. And we have enough money for me to stay home and teach him and to drive him to classes.
I have a fluffy old lady cat half asleep on my table in the sun. I have an adolescent cat looking out the window and occasionally batting at the old one because he can't resist pestering her. He's growing up and learning that he'd better not wake her up when she's all the way asleep. That's no fun.
I'm drinking coffee. I ate breakfast, as I do every morning. I'll have lunch later, no question. I'm not the type who forgets to eat. This afternoon/evening, I'll have a huge dinner.
I'll have a huge dinner with friends. I have friends. It's great. I have close friends and a larger circle of friends whom I don't see often and an even larger circle of acquaintances with whom I can talk and laugh at writer's group or while we wait for our kids at various school/sports/social events. I'm an introvert and have a hard time trusting, but I do like most people.
I wish I were closer to my family, but I'm even thankful for that, since I have family and I like them. I'm going to visit my parents in my hometown this summer. My mom is my biggest fan. My brothers and sisters are interesting people, even the ones I haven't seen in years. My dad is pretty much silent, but always provided for us.
I'm thankful for the time and energy to write books. I'm extra thankful for the publisher who is publishing my books. I still have to learn how to do marketing and I still have to figure out how to make people notice my books and buy them and love them and get their friends to buy them. But my editor gives good advice for making my books better, there are a copy editor and line editor who fix the typos (and the non-standard commas), there's a book cover designer who does nice work, there are formatting people who get the book out in all formats, there are publicity people who trumpet our books all around.
By the way, there's a 40% off sale on ebooks from the Wild Rose Press website. Buy mine, of course, if you haven't already.
And I'm thankful for life and safety.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Moving again (the story, that is)
I spent a few days flailing around, figuring out what should happen in the book I'm working on (which I started over the summer and got stuck, so it's just been sitting for months). So I went back and edited, which is not supposed to be done during Nano, but well, I wasn't going anywhere until I did. I added some scenes and added some dogs and a dead body. I'm also considering adding a panic disorder. I'm still on track to finish 50K words in the next few days. Almost 3K words just yesterday!
So anyway, Nanowrimo is going well.
In other news, the kids are off school ALL WEEK. So far so good. I try to keep them a little busy, but not too much.
Yesterday DS2, the thirteen year-old, went on a hike with his best buddy and the buddy's mom. They meant to take a short hike, but ended up on the five mile trail with significant hills. I took the seven year-old DD to see "Inside Out" in the super cheap theater. I cried significantly. The fifteen year-old DS1 did, uh...I think he read a book?
Today, DS2 slept late. The boys got haircuts and I took all three to get a snack.
Tomorrow.... I think DD has a playdate. I still don't like calling them that, even after three kids.
Thursday is turkey.
Friday is recovery. Maybe another hike.
Saturday is start doing all that homework they were supposed to do over break. Sunday is finish it.
And then it feels like we never had a break at all.
So anyway, Nanowrimo is going well.
In other news, the kids are off school ALL WEEK. So far so good. I try to keep them a little busy, but not too much.
Yesterday DS2, the thirteen year-old, went on a hike with his best buddy and the buddy's mom. They meant to take a short hike, but ended up on the five mile trail with significant hills. I took the seven year-old DD to see "Inside Out" in the super cheap theater. I cried significantly. The fifteen year-old DS1 did, uh...I think he read a book?
Today, DS2 slept late. The boys got haircuts and I took all three to get a snack.
Tomorrow.... I think DD has a playdate. I still don't like calling them that, even after three kids.
Thursday is turkey.
Friday is recovery. Maybe another hike.
Saturday is start doing all that homework they were supposed to do over break. Sunday is finish it.
And then it feels like we never had a break at all.
Friday, November 20, 2015
A breather, I guess?
I finished the Henri/Fourbier novella. And yes, it is M/M, but they don't do more than kiss and cuddle, which is a bit less than my characters in my other books do. It's also ten years into their relationship. There might not be enough trouble between them yet, but they are facing a lot of crises together, without much backing from their families, which are also facing crises. It takes place immediately after Book 3.
The title of Book 3 in Chateaux and Shadows is probably going to be "The Contrary Cavalier" or maybe just "Cavalier" or the French "Chevalier". I also have some more edits on it from a critique partner, so will be fitting that into my schedule before my editor gets around to editing it.
I started writing Book 6 from the beginning again, but my mind held too much information from the first version so I was trying to not repeat myself. And yet not enough info, so I couldn't figure out what to write. Yesterday, I read the 16,000-ish words I wrote before and made notes on what I wanted to change. I'm also going to throw in a dead body. That'll keep them busy! I think the next thing to do is brainstorm (right in the document, typing quickly) what needs to happen to make this into a novel and have it make sense. It started as an idea for a novella, but expanded in my mind, even before the dead body showed up.
And 11 days (including today) left in NaNoWriMo! I pre-ordered my Winner t-shirt, thinking they'd come after the end of the month and if I didn't win, I would cancel before they sent it.
A few days ago, I got an email saying it had shipped. Today, it arrived. MOTIVATION!
Right, off to write.
The title of Book 3 in Chateaux and Shadows is probably going to be "The Contrary Cavalier" or maybe just "Cavalier" or the French "Chevalier". I also have some more edits on it from a critique partner, so will be fitting that into my schedule before my editor gets around to editing it.
I started writing Book 6 from the beginning again, but my mind held too much information from the first version so I was trying to not repeat myself. And yet not enough info, so I couldn't figure out what to write. Yesterday, I read the 16,000-ish words I wrote before and made notes on what I wanted to change. I'm also going to throw in a dead body. That'll keep them busy! I think the next thing to do is brainstorm (right in the document, typing quickly) what needs to happen to make this into a novel and have it make sense. It started as an idea for a novella, but expanded in my mind, even before the dead body showed up.
And 11 days (including today) left in NaNoWriMo! I pre-ordered my Winner t-shirt, thinking they'd come after the end of the month and if I didn't win, I would cancel before they sent it.
Right, off to write.
Friday, November 13, 2015
France
I love France. The pain au chocolat, the baguettes, the wine. People living lives a lot like Americans, but not quite. A slightly different perspective on the world that radically altered my brain when I was first immersed in it. The French are hard people to get to know, but once you're in, you're IN.
And to hear of them being gunned down because of where they happened to be, in a terror attack because of some idiots' misguided approach to their religion makes me insane and sad and a hundred other things. I'm not as shocked and stunned as I was on 9/11, but it's close. To think of this vibrant, crazy city brought to a halt because of a few radicals makes me want to cry.
And please, don't start with anti-Muslim rhetoric or say Syrian refugees are responsible. It's crazy people with guns that the Syrians are escaping.
Je suis Parisienne.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Construction vehicles, chores, and the Internet: a Nanowrimo love story
I'm going to put it out there that I have some form of ADHD. Not so much the H part, because I am sluggish at best. But if I'm not really into something, if there are distractions, or if I am over- or under-caffeinated, I am unable to pay attention.
About a week ago, the electric company put up signs and stuck hangers on our front doorknobs saying they were going to be doing electrical work until Dec 4th. It means trenching, wiring, filling in trenches, and I don't know. It means not parking on the street for a month and dealing with NOISE.
It's a pity all my kids are too big and/or too cool to want to hang around outside watching the diggers and fork lifts and backhoes at work.
It's a bigger pity that my desk is right by the front window and they are working RIGHT OUTSIDE and the constant rumble, intermittent beeping, weird screeching scrapes, clangs, and all the rest ARE MAKING ME CRAZY. Seriously, I've been clenching my teeth all day. My head is vibrating.
It's even making the cats anxious. The younger one has been following me around all day and the older startling at every crash and clang. Of course now their anxiety seems to have worn them out, since I am sitting down and there's sunshine here...
Today is Tuesday, which means my Homeschool Boy has classes and his friend's mom drove him there. I was trying to write at home, but couldn't and kept refreshing Twitter and Facebook. I went to Starbucks (I had to take the old car and drive over a corner of grass to get out) for about an hour and a half and got a good scene written. I have more to say, but needed a break to let my head fill with the next scene and for some of that caffeine to drain out. So I came home and got more chores done, tried to watch a movie and just couldn't get into it, came back to my computer with an idea for what would happen next and....
BEEP BEEP BEEP
RUMBLE
WHIRRRRRRRR
CLANK
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Dang it.
But this morning's bonus?
Purple Dump Truck.
PURPLE.
About a week ago, the electric company put up signs and stuck hangers on our front doorknobs saying they were going to be doing electrical work until Dec 4th. It means trenching, wiring, filling in trenches, and I don't know. It means not parking on the street for a month and dealing with NOISE.
It's a pity all my kids are too big and/or too cool to want to hang around outside watching the diggers and fork lifts and backhoes at work.
It's a bigger pity that my desk is right by the front window and they are working RIGHT OUTSIDE and the constant rumble, intermittent beeping, weird screeching scrapes, clangs, and all the rest ARE MAKING ME CRAZY. Seriously, I've been clenching my teeth all day. My head is vibrating.
It's even making the cats anxious. The younger one has been following me around all day and the older startling at every crash and clang. Of course now their anxiety seems to have worn them out, since I am sitting down and there's sunshine here...
BEEP BEEP BEEP
RUMBLE
WHIRRRRRRRR
CLANK
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Dang it.
But this morning's bonus?
Purple Dump Truck.
PURPLE.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Some of the worst weeks of my life: a school story
You know how Facebook kicks up memories in "On This Day" last year, two years ago, etc.? Well, in case you don't know, they do. I know they don't bring up everything. They don't even seem to bring up the things that got the most Likes and Comments. I don't know how the metric works. My favorite dog in the world died a year ago and it didn't mention it, though I know I posted about it and got a lot of condolences (and it wasn't even my dog).
So anyway, this morning, it decided that I really wanted to remember how three years ago, my middle child, then in fifth grade, refused to go to school.
He's never liked going to school, but he had become more and more difficult about it. We went through a period of him locking himself in his room or the bathroom, us dragging him out. Finally, in November 2012, he completely freaked out. It was like wrestling a wild animal, including incoherent howling and him escaping from the car.
Within a week or so, I realized we were never going to get him back to school. I never EVER wanted to homeschool ANYONE. And to end up homeschooling the one who was the biggest behavior problem? Oh joy.
He also refused to go to soccer practice or games unless he felt like it. We dragged him to the doctor, who suggested we check him into a psych ward. Boy, that was helpful. We tried counseling; I had to hold him still so he would stay in the car on the way there, but he wouldn't get out to meet with the the woman. So we only tried a few times, because $100 an hour for her to talk to a completely non-responsive child in our car? Uh, no thanks.
And since the school would do exactly nothing to help talk him into class, or find out what was wrong (I'd been pushing for dyslexia testing for YEARS), or send home work so we could do it until the situation cooled...Well, that was the end of that.
It was one of the worst periods of my life.
I registered him with a homeschool charter, but it didn't officially start until January semester. Half the time, he would freak out and lie on the couch with his back to the room. I read to him a lot that year. We were mostly feeling our way around the curriculum. Some was totally stupid (for anyone, in my opinion, but especially for someone with trouble memorizing), some was just not interesting, and some he just didn't like. Other stuff went OK.
Do you have any idea how hard it is as an author, as someone who has always loved writing down stories, to have a kid who hates hate hates writing anything?
I eventually had to quit the part time proofreading work I was doing because I couldn't keep up. I didn't get any writing done for months.
And that was the first year I lost at NaNoWriMo, after winning for several years in a row. I still haven't finished that book. I'm not sure I want to. It's a gloomy YA with a weather mage who's a maladjusted juvenile delinquent who deliberately causes a storm at his high school and some people are injured, including the girl he has a crush on. I'm not sure I even want to read it, even though my goal was to make him try to redeem himself.
So ANYWAY.
I finally got him this year in for an assessment and yes: dyslexia, ADD, auditory processing issues. And he's smart. I knew all that, but it's nice to have someone present it in language that maybe schools will pay attention to.
These days, we're looking at high schools. Like regular, mainstream high schools. In a way, I'm really worried about it. MY BABY. He had so much failure, even in the alternative-ish school he went to through half of fifth grade. I don't think he could cope with failing again now. We have to work up all the plans and accommodations and even then, I'm going to worry about him so much.
But he has gone from hitting and keening to a shy but mostly cheerful guy. He's gone from a stack of trouble to the kid I'm closest to because I spend the most time with him.
(He's not my favorite, because I don't play favorites. I would love to have the opportunity to spend as much time with my other kids one on one. There just aren't enough hours in a day and my oldest has gone all sphinx-like teenager. He'll talk to me if I press him, but what's really in his head? It's a secret.)
He's gone from being stuck in math and slipping lower because they wouldn't let him move on until he memorized his times tables to a guy who can keep up (with tutoring from his mom and using a calculator) in Algebra class. Memorizing something as intangible as a times table is really hard and even useless for some people. Heck, it was useless for me. It was through using the numbers to solve actual math problems that I learned them.
He's gone from having to do a spelling book with really stupid exercises as homework every week and still failing the tests to doing a thing called Sequential Spelling, which is more about learning the patterns for spelling and phonics by doing a list of closely related word for several days in a row. Unscrambling the spelling words in the stupid spelling book was just about the worst possible way to teach a dyslexic how to spell.
Now I look at him and instead of seeing fear of failure, I see hope.
That sounds cheesy.
But damn, I'm a great teacher.
Lately, my third child, who's only in second grade, has been begging to be homeschooled. I keep saying that NO, I don't want to have to try to juggle the two of them. The way they interact with each other, too, either silly together or making each other mad, would be 100% not conducive to learning anything at all. I know that after a period of time, they would settle in. Maybe. But JUST NO. She has a really good teacher and is learning so much stuff that there is no way I would pull her out.
It's not completely off the table of course, but it is way down my list of things I want to do, especially as I'm trying to write and develop a career, no matter how small.
So that's my long, rambling thing about November. I've already done my fictional words for the day, so decided to blog. I didn't realize I had this much to say.
So anyway, this morning, it decided that I really wanted to remember how three years ago, my middle child, then in fifth grade, refused to go to school.
He's never liked going to school, but he had become more and more difficult about it. We went through a period of him locking himself in his room or the bathroom, us dragging him out. Finally, in November 2012, he completely freaked out. It was like wrestling a wild animal, including incoherent howling and him escaping from the car.
"Epically shitty morning here today. It's 11 am and unless I physically
hold him in the car and hold his seat belt on him, DS2 isn't going to
make it to school."
Within a week or so, I realized we were never going to get him back to school. I never EVER wanted to homeschool ANYONE. And to end up homeschooling the one who was the biggest behavior problem? Oh joy.
He also refused to go to soccer practice or games unless he felt like it. We dragged him to the doctor, who suggested we check him into a psych ward. Boy, that was helpful. We tried counseling; I had to hold him still so he would stay in the car on the way there, but he wouldn't get out to meet with the the woman. So we only tried a few times, because $100 an hour for her to talk to a completely non-responsive child in our car? Uh, no thanks.
And since the school would do exactly nothing to help talk him into class, or find out what was wrong (I'd been pushing for dyslexia testing for YEARS), or send home work so we could do it until the situation cooled...Well, that was the end of that.
It was one of the worst periods of my life.
I registered him with a homeschool charter, but it didn't officially start until January semester. Half the time, he would freak out and lie on the couch with his back to the room. I read to him a lot that year. We were mostly feeling our way around the curriculum. Some was totally stupid (for anyone, in my opinion, but especially for someone with trouble memorizing), some was just not interesting, and some he just didn't like. Other stuff went OK.
Do you have any idea how hard it is as an author, as someone who has always loved writing down stories, to have a kid who hates hate hates writing anything?
I eventually had to quit the part time proofreading work I was doing because I couldn't keep up. I didn't get any writing done for months.
And that was the first year I lost at NaNoWriMo, after winning for several years in a row. I still haven't finished that book. I'm not sure I want to. It's a gloomy YA with a weather mage who's a maladjusted juvenile delinquent who deliberately causes a storm at his high school and some people are injured, including the girl he has a crush on. I'm not sure I even want to read it, even though my goal was to make him try to redeem himself.
So ANYWAY.
I finally got him this year in for an assessment and yes: dyslexia, ADD, auditory processing issues. And he's smart. I knew all that, but it's nice to have someone present it in language that maybe schools will pay attention to.
These days, we're looking at high schools. Like regular, mainstream high schools. In a way, I'm really worried about it. MY BABY. He had so much failure, even in the alternative-ish school he went to through half of fifth grade. I don't think he could cope with failing again now. We have to work up all the plans and accommodations and even then, I'm going to worry about him so much.
But he has gone from hitting and keening to a shy but mostly cheerful guy. He's gone from a stack of trouble to the kid I'm closest to because I spend the most time with him.
(He's not my favorite, because I don't play favorites. I would love to have the opportunity to spend as much time with my other kids one on one. There just aren't enough hours in a day and my oldest has gone all sphinx-like teenager. He'll talk to me if I press him, but what's really in his head? It's a secret.)
He's gone from being stuck in math and slipping lower because they wouldn't let him move on until he memorized his times tables to a guy who can keep up (with tutoring from his mom and using a calculator) in Algebra class. Memorizing something as intangible as a times table is really hard and even useless for some people. Heck, it was useless for me. It was through using the numbers to solve actual math problems that I learned them.
He's gone from having to do a spelling book with really stupid exercises as homework every week and still failing the tests to doing a thing called Sequential Spelling, which is more about learning the patterns for spelling and phonics by doing a list of closely related word for several days in a row. Unscrambling the spelling words in the stupid spelling book was just about the worst possible way to teach a dyslexic how to spell.
Now I look at him and instead of seeing fear of failure, I see hope.
That sounds cheesy.
But damn, I'm a great teacher.
Lately, my third child, who's only in second grade, has been begging to be homeschooled. I keep saying that NO, I don't want to have to try to juggle the two of them. The way they interact with each other, too, either silly together or making each other mad, would be 100% not conducive to learning anything at all. I know that after a period of time, they would settle in. Maybe. But JUST NO. She has a really good teacher and is learning so much stuff that there is no way I would pull her out.
It's not completely off the table of course, but it is way down my list of things I want to do, especially as I'm trying to write and develop a career, no matter how small.
So that's my long, rambling thing about November. I've already done my fictional words for the day, so decided to blog. I didn't realize I had this much to say.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
And now it's NaNoWriMo time for real
This year, I am writing the rest of a book I started a few months ago and got stuck on. Not totally stuck, just ran out of time once the summer Camp Nanowrimo ended. I've been editing and getting grumpier since then, but had a basic outline and some things written up about the characters and where they're going.
This is far more than I usually have when writing a story. We'll see how it goes. In my head, the book's almost done, after all, so I don't know if I have the creative drive to write it.
It's also planned to be a novella, which won't be enough words for all of Nano, anyway. But I have another book, probably a novella, that I started a few months ago, too.
Oh heavens, it sounds like I haven't been able to finish anything ALL YEAR. That's not true. For Camp Nano, I finished a book that I started a couple of years ago before starting a novella that I didn't finish.
Sigh.
Sometimes, I just can't get the continuity going. My son has recently been diagnosed with a bit of ADD. I swear as I've gotten older, I'm unable to concentrate unless something really interests me. There have been an awful lot of book club books that I've just...not...finished. Or even started, for that matter.
And here I am, writing a blog instead of writing about Henri and Fourbier.
My motto when writing Henri: WWSD? (What Would Snape Do?)
He's not that bad, especially by this point in the series. Mild spoiler: he mellows with age. A little. I think we got a good look at his soft insides in Indispensable Wife, right? (Buy Indispensable. Links to the right of this blog post. It's good, I promise.). His heartbreak at losing his lover, his fears for the future, and his unswerving loyalty for his brothers and sister.
And Fourbier, whom you will meet in the second book of Châteaux and Shadows, The Honorable Officer, is a bit of slyness and a bit of razzle-dazzle and a bit of a lost soul. Having more recently edited Honorable, I'm feeling closer to Fourbier right now, since he has a point of view in that book. But then, Henri rises to the occasion in Book 3 (still untitled), about his youngest brother, Emmanuel. Henri and Emmanuel both got their bitterness from their darling Maman.
Maman the Baronesse is a piece of work. I think I wrote her more two-dimensional than I feel. Or else I didn't really explore her much until Book 3.
Anyway, back to throwing down some more words on Les Fourberies d'Henri. Or The Pain in Henri's Neck. Or Les Courberies d'Henri, though the first and last of those make exactly no sense unless you've heard of the farce by Moliere, Les Fourberies de Scapin. And you have to know that Courberies is almost the word for Curvature in French (though it's really Courbure).
And... nope.
I already confuse people enough with the French names and words and stuff. Sorry about that.
This is far more than I usually have when writing a story. We'll see how it goes. In my head, the book's almost done, after all, so I don't know if I have the creative drive to write it.
It's also planned to be a novella, which won't be enough words for all of Nano, anyway. But I have another book, probably a novella, that I started a few months ago, too.
Oh heavens, it sounds like I haven't been able to finish anything ALL YEAR. That's not true. For Camp Nano, I finished a book that I started a couple of years ago before starting a novella that I didn't finish.
Sigh.
Sometimes, I just can't get the continuity going. My son has recently been diagnosed with a bit of ADD. I swear as I've gotten older, I'm unable to concentrate unless something really interests me. There have been an awful lot of book club books that I've just...not...finished. Or even started, for that matter.
And here I am, writing a blog instead of writing about Henri and Fourbier.
My motto when writing Henri: WWSD? (What Would Snape Do?)
He's not that bad, especially by this point in the series. Mild spoiler: he mellows with age. A little. I think we got a good look at his soft insides in Indispensable Wife, right? (Buy Indispensable. Links to the right of this blog post. It's good, I promise.). His heartbreak at losing his lover, his fears for the future, and his unswerving loyalty for his brothers and sister.
And Fourbier, whom you will meet in the second book of Châteaux and Shadows, The Honorable Officer, is a bit of slyness and a bit of razzle-dazzle and a bit of a lost soul. Having more recently edited Honorable, I'm feeling closer to Fourbier right now, since he has a point of view in that book. But then, Henri rises to the occasion in Book 3 (still untitled), about his youngest brother, Emmanuel. Henri and Emmanuel both got their bitterness from their darling Maman.
Maman the Baronesse is a piece of work. I think I wrote her more two-dimensional than I feel. Or else I didn't really explore her much until Book 3.
Anyway, back to throwing down some more words on Les Fourberies d'Henri. Or The Pain in Henri's Neck. Or Les Courberies d'Henri, though the first and last of those make exactly no sense unless you've heard of the farce by Moliere, Les Fourberies de Scapin. And you have to know that Courberies is almost the word for Curvature in French (though it's really Courbure).
And... nope.
I already confuse people enough with the French names and words and stuff. Sorry about that.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Na-NO-NO-Wri-Mo: Ask me why 50,000 words are right for you!
This article first appeared on Angela Hayes' blog a few days ago. She's had guest authors on to talk about Nanowrimo for several days now. Go check her out and give the writing sprint from Hades a try!
I’ve been doing National Novel Writing Month for about nine
years now and “won” all but two of those times. Now I’m a published author.
It’s a small press and only my first published novel, but more are on their
way. I’m hoping to write the rough draft of Book Four in November, in fact.
I’m not a plotter, I’m a pantser who really needs to think
about where she’s heading. I have hybrid pants? My point isn’t to extol one
method above the other. Though winning Nano is about planning ahead, adapting
to circumstances, and keeping going, how you figure out what to write is up to
you.
Your successful speed-writing month:
1)
You MUST
write 50,000 words. Accept the deadline. It is a firm number and a firm deadline.
Procrastinators like me need that mindset. I sign up on the Nanowrimo,org
website. I warn my family to leave me alone. I get all the laundry done. I
clear my schedule as much as possible. I figure out a starting point and maybe
some plot, definitely a couple of characters.
2)
NO-NO: 50,000
words might NOT be right for you. I used to be a purist (and smug), but
have seen too many people dealing with surprise things. A few years ago, I was
the one dealing with things. Nano is not
the boss of you. If you know you are going to be busy for most of the month,
or if your muse doesn’t work under deadline, then don’t promise yourself 50,000
words. You can still sign up and benefit from the Nano pep talks, the forums,
the write-ins, the moral support from friends, and everything, even if your
goal is something lower.
3)
Find a
place to write. In my house, there are people who want stuff from me.
People who make sudden, loud noises and watch Minecraft videos. There are
chores to be done. There is Wi-Fi and Facebook. I do much better with
Starbucks, where though the noise level is higher, the people don’t need me, I don’t have to do chores, and
my laptop doesn’t like their Wi-Fi. And people make coffee for me. Bonus!
4)
Find a
peer group. The NaNoWriMo website has forums. You can buddy up with friends
in real life, by email, or on Facebook. Someone who knows what you are
doing—and it’s a huge thing, this book in one month—should be there to feel
your pain and joy. Find a group! Post your updates!
5)
Count EVERY
word. If you’re a plotter and you didn’t plot before November started, include
it in the word count. If you do a character sketch, include it in your count.
Count the long descriptions you’ll never need and the pages and pages of back
story that you had better not put in
Chapter One. Sometimes, I end up typing some rambling rant about how stuck I
am. I keep it. We’re pretty flexible. Highlight it in red so you can cut and
paste it to a separate document on December 1st. Just keep writing. Make a spreadsheet
of your total words, log your count on the Nano website, or download a counter.
Watch the number go UP. Make a bar graph of your results. (NO-NO: that’s procrastination.) (YES-YES: make one anyway.)
6)
Write
every day…or NOT. 50K words means 1667 words per day. It’s feasible in an
hour or two, depending on how the ideas flow and how fast you can type. There
are days when I have written 5000 words.
There are many more days when I have written ZERO. Life intervenes. For
example: November in the USA means Thanksgiving, which means travel, cooking,
and family time. If you’re out of town for a whole week—a fourth of the month—then you have to decide if you’re
going to complete your word count before you go, sneak off from the gatherings,
or be ready to cram a lot of writing in when you get home.
7)
Set
intermediate goals. I’m a procrastinator, so I know the temptation. We’re not
required to do this, we’re not getting paid, I can make up the word count
another day. If you want to win at Nano,
if you want fancy web badges and to wear a winner t-shirt with pride, you
really can’t do it all on November 30th without turning your book into a psychotic,
sleepless diatribe called All work and no
play makes Jack a dull boy. YES,
some people come sliding in with 30,000 words over the last few days, combining
stream of consciousness, typing skills, and coffee by the bucket. NO, I don’t recommend it.
8)
You have
to make writing a priority. Organize your life so if you haven’t made 12,000
words in a week, you WILL catch up over the weekend, on Tuesday when there’s a
gap in your schedule, or by adding a couple hundred words to each day’s goal.
Or by staying up late or getting up early. Or by writing at lunch. Or instead
of watching TV or reading a book. Or by getting out of anything you don’t
absolutely have to do. Figure it will take FIFTY HOURS. Plan
around it.
9)
Don’t
feel guilty. It might be guilt from taking hours away from your family
every day to write, or from the house getting dirty, the laundry piling up, and
the pizza being ordered. Or maybe it’s guilt that you aren’t keeping up with writing
because you attend to all the other things. Guilt is fine if it means you find
creative, new ways to get the writing in. NO-NO:
NaNo guilt is not fine if it makes you miserable. Most of us have enough
stress in our lives. If NaNo is going to put you over the edge, step back and
breathe. Up in #2, I mentioned the year that things happened. I wrote about 20K words and had to stop because of
a family crisis. Then I had to stop beating myself up. Up until then, I had
always “won” at NaNoWriMo. I was a writing machine! But that year, I wasn’t.
10) Celebrate.
Whatever you write in November, if it’s 100 words or 80,000, are words you
hadn’t written before. With any luck, you have a good chunk of a rough draft. It’s
a lonely celebration to post to Twitter that you did it, put a winner badge as
your Facebook profile, and tell your family you’re a WINNER and we’re ordering pizza tonight because Mom’s
exhausted. This is where that peer group
comes in. These are the people who will say YOU ROCK. Because you do.
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