In Raven Gets Settled In Her New Town news, we have been visiting churches, trying to figure out where we fit. One place we visited one (1) time (they were very nice) and three people came bouncing up after the hymns to say you have a lovely voice! you have to sing in the choir! I smiled (this happens, I have a loud voice) and thought well, sure, but you all aren't the choir director, are you? I see dude has a doctorate; I bet he kind of has opinions about who he wants to recruit for his choir. Friends, that choir director has sweetly, gently, unrelentingly kept asking me to come to practice with the tenacity of a Duke basketball recruiter. I showed up tonight and one old lady yelled down the hall to another old lady IT'S THE ALTO! SHE'S BACK! I begin to think they take church choir kind of seriously down here? |
Sounds like the UK with their inter-parish competitions... |
Nice to be needed... Altos are generally in short(er) supply! |
Now that This Summer's WIP ("The Long Dawn" ![]() ![]()
I'm kind of excited about my shiny new story, friends. It has its own playlist, which rocks if I do say so myself. (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4JZorIg0AbzbyDZ6No1LW3?si=AcYx5g1dQy2ZNkqoSw4j...) If you're interested in Minerva, let me know and I'll get you the passkey. What are your fall writing plans? |
Also, I was reminded today of this short story, which is kind of a fantasy western:
This one actually got published back in the day, and I still kind of like it--and I like the narrator, Mrs Silver, who is just trying to run a decent boardinghouse and not get swarmed by demons. |
As I mentioned a while back, I've locked access to "Grave Goods" ![]() |
So I have my arguments with the book The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron, but among the helpful parts of that book are the concepts of 1) morning pages and 2) "artist dates". Morning pages are three pages of longhand journaling that you do every day to train yourself to write without judging yourself, basically. They're very useful if you have a noisy head. An artist date is you, once per week, going somewhere and consuming art, ideally in a different medium than yours. So if you write, you go to a gallery or whatever. Tonight I took The Husband to hear some live music at a local beer garden and it was *lovely*. I watched butterflies go by, saw flowers, heard a live mandolin for the first time in a long time. And it filled up my creative tank. If either of these practices appeal to you, I recommend them. (And you can probably find the Cameron book at your library if you're curious--it's pretty old--and then I can fuss about the stuff I disagree with when you tell me "hey, Raven, this Julia seems a bit goofy"). |
People have been very nice about "Grave Goods" ![]() ![]() ![]() Breanna's Editing Rules 1. Do a global search for "that" and delete most of them. 2. Get rid of repetitions unless they're on purpose. 3. Try to cut 10% of word count. (Rule 3 will make rules 1 and 2 happen if you've missed anything.) Sometimes I get into a weird headspace and need to also have: 4. Do a global search for "felt, saw, heard" and delete these filter words unless for some reason they're important (they usually are not). Anyway, you'll see that these rules didn't strip the voice or character out of this short story, but it did tighten the prose, strip out a few bits of flabby repetition or telling, and give me room to include a new paragraph and invent the phrase "map-star", which I'm quite fond of. Note: I will be putting this under passkey at the end of the week (for publication reasons), but if you don't manage to look at it before then and you want to, just drop me a line and I'll get you the key. |
What an excellent day. It kind of started yesterday, in fact, when everybody was so kind about "Grave Goods" ![]() Then I did some polishing on a couple of chapters that I think really make them better. Then I got a passel of lovely reviews--I have the nicest critique partners, and the most helpful. And then, like a cherry on top, Charles 🐾 ![]() ![]() ![]() |
Well so I was GOING to take like a whole week off from writing, and just read and review and generally tend the other parts of my life. But I've had the beginning of this short story kicking around in my hard drive FOREVER, and today the rest of it decided to be born. So here you go:
It's a ghost story, sort of, and a campfire story, sort of, and a sheep story...sort of. Enjoy. |
In under the wire, I have finally posted the last chapter of "The Long Dawn" ![]() Wahoo! I'm going to celebrate by... going to bed, I guess. I'll celebrate tomorrow. (Anybody who would like to read a novel about a pair of awkward magic dorks who fall in love and also kinda save the kingdom a little, let me know and I will get you the passkey.) |
So I have long wondered if it's something about my face-- people just randomly up and tell me stuff. I don't mean people I have known for a while, and I don't mean people in a situation where telling each other stuff is kind of expected, like prayer meeting, I mean random people in the grocery store, at the train station, at the library, or, in today's feature, in the waiting room at the clinic while I was waiting for my kid to see if they need their wisdom teeth out. (They do.) The receptionist started telling me about her son, who works in Phoenix, who doesn't like it there, and her granddaughters, who she's so worried about, and how her daughter-in-law isn't raising these kids right--for a solid 20 minutes--and friends, I did not even say "and how is YOUR day going?" Note: another client came in after a bit. Receptionist did not tell THEM about Phoenix and granddaughters on the path to ruin. She just took their insurance cards and then sat quietly, so it's not that she does this to everyone. I've had the person slicing ham for me at the supermarket deli counter pour their heart out to me about their messy divorce. A random lady at the library told me about her son who won't talk to her, and She Doesn't Know Why! (I think I know why.) I know about strangers' miscarriages, breakups, parents in nursing homes, babies who won't nurse, babies who nurse too much, total strangers' mental health diagnoses, total strangers' fears that their significant other is running around, on and on, you name it. Once, in college, I met someone and literally the second thing out of their mouth after "nice to meet you" was to tell me about a family member's tragic death. This does not happen to my husband, I checked. So, do we think it's my face? |
Raven ![]() ![]() |
It's partly that you look kind, but probably even more that you look interested. So few do that people catch on right away. That interested look is probably part of the same reason you are a writer, because you are playing with the ways that people can act and be. But it does lead to lengthy convos at the deli counter. |
Sometimes you read about something that is both blindingly obvious and so helpful, and yet you have not been doing it. (This is how I felt when I realized, as a whole grown adult, that I could just automate the purchase of safety pins and hair ties, like luxuriously have the 'Zon deliver a package of them once every six months, rather than stressfully hoarding three of each in the bottom of my purse. Then I would always have safety pins and hair ties, you see?) Anyway the writing version of this, which I'm sure a bunch of you are already doing, is having a running list somewhere of What To Write. This is where you put in your half-formed ideas for short stories, the novels, the weird little essays, anything you WANT to write but have not yet. Currently my list lives in my brain, which is not a great place for it, because my brain regularly decides to purge its cache without telling me. I read this morning about The List and am about to go feverishly compose it, but I had to tell you first. I'm thinking I will put at least one copy of The List here on WDC, although I also feel superstitiously like I should keep a version in a paper notebook, too. Do you have a list? Where do you keep it? |
Humble Poet PNG - but am I? ![]() ![]() No - you're ok (for now ![]() I realised after I'd posted that it did sound a bit stalker-ish and weird. It's just that I've got a bad enough memory for names in real life, never mind online. |
Dave Ryan ![]() |
I am listening to the Husband take a work call in German that I can understand maybe 40% of and thinking about how I am writing a book with people who speak a variety of languages, and realizing all my characters are more competent with languages than me. |
Perhaps concentrating on excelling in one language would be the best way to go. I can order a meal, understand directions, and offer commonplace phrases, such as hello, goodbye, etc. in French, German, Spanish, and Italian. But understanding a basic conversation at normal speed is no bueno. |
I think it's harder to learn a new language if you weren't brought up speaking more than one. My mother and sister are both terrible at learning languages and grew up speaking only English, where my father and I, who both grew up speaking both German and English (my father's parents were German and always spoke it at home and we were living in Vienna between when I was 1 and 3) find learning languages easy. I get very rusty when I don't speak a language for a long time, but I went to live in Berlin in 2003 and within a month I could sit in on university lectures and understand enough to get something out of it. |
Charles 🐾 ![]() ![]() Turns out we were all pretty smart! |