Tag Archives: personal

Put one scene after another…

Cat looking at a Macbook.
This may or may not be an accurate representation of me writing.
I’ve met several writers who are proud of the fact that they seldom write out of order. They begin at the beginning and keep moving forward until the end. Yes, they go back and edit, but they seem to consider it a failing if they realize they have to go back and add an entire scene.

Back when I first started writing seriously, personal computers didn’t exist, so I was writing on a typewriter. Typewriters don’t have copy-and-paste (for that, you needed scissors and actual paste!), delete (white-out and erasers have limits), and so on. So you sit down, start at the beginning, and keep going until the end. Revising meant re-typing (you could do minor revisions by marking up the pages, of course, but for your final manuscript you’d need to retype everything—in order).

Word processors make it a lot easier to write things out of order, then arrange and re-arrange to your liking afterward. That’s a good thing. But as I’ve said whenever I have explained why I occasionally host writer’s round robins with manual typewriters, there is a value to a situation that forces you to keep moving until you reach the end of a tale. When revision is difficult and messy, you learn not to let minor things distract you from the goal of finishing the story.

And some people really need that. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many reviews and articles out there with titles such as “20+ Distraction-Free Minimal Writing Apps to Help You Focus,” or “10 apps for distraction-free, productive writing,” or “(Even More) Distraction-Free Writing Tools” (let alone so many applications that do that to make the reviews necessary!).

But even when I was working on a typewriter, it wasn’t true that I wrote stories strictly in order. Before I ever sat down at the typewriter, I thought about the story I wanted to write. I might have jotted down some lines of dialogue or a few paragraphs of description in a notebook. Sometimes it would be several pages of description, with odd notes scribbled in the margins, words crossed out, or whole sentences written in between two lines of text.

Other times I would sit down, start writing a story, maybe get several pages done, then decide it was all wrong. I’d go back to pencil or pen and paper and try to sort out what was wrong with the story. Eventually I might pick up the story where I’d left off and continue it, but more often I started with a new blank page.

And back then I hated doing that, if for no other reasons that I hated wasting paper. Typing paper wasn’t a minor expense, and in some of the small towns we lived, getting a replacement ribbon when the ink started running out meant waiting until the next time someone was driving to a bigger town some distance away.

And don’t get me started on carbon paper and the expense of extra paper when you’ve decided it’s time for a final draft!

I do think that there’s a great deal of good that comes from sitting down and plowing forward. It’s too easy to get stuck in an endless loop of re-doing the earlier scenes so that a story never gets finished. But I think the writers who make a big deal of the fact that they almost never back up or write out of order are deluding themselves.

I’m basing this not just on my own experience, but my observations of their offices. Most of the writers I have known well enough to see their workspaces who make that claim have far, far, far more notebooks and sketchbooks that they work in before they start “writing.” All those outlines, notes, character sketches, et cetera in those notebooks are part of the writing process.

There’s nothing wrong with that. But I think they do the aspiring writers who ask them about their process a disservice with this delusion.

Now, I need to stop working on this and get back to my novel. I’ve been hung up in chapter 15 for far too long…

Come out, come out, wherever you are!

Image of Glinda the Good from the Wizard of Oz.
Glinda says, “Come out, come out, where ever you are!”
Today is National Coming Out Day. If Ray were still alive, it would also be the day we’d be celebrating the twentieth anniversary of our commitment ceremony (he promised to stay with me for the rest of his life, and he did).

Since I am still occasionally surprised to learn that someone I know or work with hasn’t figured out that I’m gay: my husband (Michael) and I are both men, and we’re very much in love with each other and happy together.

Picture taken by Chelsea Kellogg, reporter for the Stranger.
Michael and I.
But while I’m (re-)stating what I think ought to be obvious, I would like to announce that I am a card-carrying liberal gay man who thinks:

Continue reading Come out, come out, wherever you are!

Stripes and stars

Rainbow flag with a blue field and stars in the corner.
A star-spangled rainbow flag.
Symbols are important.

My coming out process had been slow and incremental. I spent most of my teens wrestling with the idea, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t gay. For a long time I tried to be either bisexual or resign myself to a life a celibacy. I don’t want to get into the psycho-social reasons that some of us gay people cling to a bisexual identity for a while (and the disservice that does to actual bi people). Julie and I became active in a very out lesbian & gay chorus while we were still married to each other. By then a lot of people knew that I wasn’t heterosexual. But a lot of people didn’t. Most of my friends who knew seemed to be all right with it, but no one in my family knew.

I had wanted to come out to the family (and some old friends who were still in the dark at the time) earlier, but had been talked out of it. After Julie and I legally separated and I was finally able to admit aloud that I was definitely not bi, I felt a need to make a definitive statement.

Continue reading Stripes and stars

Would lose my head if it weren’t attached

Lynx looking for something in the grass.
“I left it hear somewhere…” (photo from http://www.sparselysageandtimely.com)
I lose things. A lot.

I’ll be on my way out the door and realize that I left the travel mug full of coffee that I just made to take with me behind, so I go to get it, and it isn’t in the kitchen where I thought it was, so I have to wander around the house trying to figure out where I set it down. I’ll eventually find it near a light switch I turned off before leaving, and then when I get to the door I’ll realize that I don’t have my keys. The keys that were just in my hand a minute ago before I started looking for the coffee. And don’t think I set the keys down where the coffee mug was, because that would be too easy, no they’re going to be somewhere else entirely.

I’ve managed to waste an entire hour sometimes just trying to find things I had a second ago that I need to take with me on an errand.

So back in August I wasn’t that surprised when I received a box in the mail from a hotel I had stayed at the week before…

Continue reading Would lose my head if it weren’t attached

The wettest September ever

Otter running on frozen pond.
Walking on water’s easy, if it’s cold enough!
We broke a bunch of weather records, again. Saturday was the wettest September day ever recorded in Western Washington. Not the wettest day, but the wettest ever in a September. And before Saturday, we had already gotten enough rain that 2013 was going to be at least the third wettest September in Seattle on record. Then we had the record-breaking Saturday, and Sunday was almost as wet, and it rained more on Monday…

Continue reading The wettest September ever

I did again

Close up of a sleeping bobcat
Asleep on the job again.
Every year I promise myself that this time it will be different. This time, I say, this time I will get my dad’s birthday card into the mail by my birthday. That way it will arrive before his birthday. Not like every other year where I forget until his actual birthday, so he gets it late.

And most years, despite all that, I forget.

Forget isn’t quite the right word, because I set reminders on all of my devices. But those reminders invariably show up while I’m in the middle of something. “Okay, when I get home, I’ll take care of it,” I think.

Again, and again, and again…

Continue reading I did again

Running off to a con

The car is very nearly packed. I still need to pack the computer, make a final run through the house to get everything turned off, et cetera, and I may hop in the shower one more time before I go.

I go to conventions because I enjoy hanging and goofing off with my friends, enjoy seeing people I don’t see except at fannish events, also to people watch, get some writing done, and (it is hoped) sell some books and things. It’s my version of a vacation.

There is a point (or, to be honest, several points) before I get on the road where I’m stressed out about almost everything: Have I packed everything? Is the inventory ready and in an order where I can find everything? Are my display materials ready? Did I remember to back up my computer before I left? Do I have my medications? Did I remember this, that, and the other?

Then during the drive and/or flight at least half of those questions keep coming up again, along with a lot of others: Did I double-check that the stove was turned off? Did we get the windows locked? Did I start the dishwasher before we left? Did I take the trash out? Did I let the responsible neighbors know we would be gone for a few days? Did I make sure no leftovers that won’t last are sitting in the fridge? Am I sure I locked the door?

When I write them out, it sounds like I’m a complete mess. Which is usually a slight exaggeration. Don’t get me wrong, each question wells up from my subconscious delivered in a voice of utter panic (usually sounding like Don Knotts’ character, Luther Heggs, in the movie The Ghost and Mr. Chicken). But the more rational part of my brain will sigh and say, “Yes, yes we took care of that.”

On trips where I’m experiencing a bit more of the worry than usual (such as, say, during times near the anniversary of Ray’s death, or his birthday, when I’m been working a lot of extra hours at work…), Michael has to intervene and remind me that if something is wrong or missing or forgotten, we’ll deal with it, “We always do.”

Which is great when he’s with me.

Unfortunately, he forgot that this was a Thursday through Sunday con, so he didn’t arrange to take today off from work. He helped did most of the loading of the car before he left. He’s going to come home after work, change, grab a few things, then take the train down to the hotel to join me this evening. As he reminded me just before he left, I can call him if I realize I forgot something, and he’ll check the house once before I go.

He’s always so calm, and capable, and endures my worry attacks with the patience of a saint.

I don’t deserve him.

Anyway, time for me to do those last few things and hit the road. If you happen to be attending RainFurrest, come to the dealer’s den, find the Tai-Pan table, and say “howdy!”

You might get a free badge ribbon or something out of it!

Being prime

Last year my age was divisible by 2 (more than once) and 13. The year before that by 3 and 17. The year before that by 5 (more than once) and 2. I could keep going, but I know if I do I will give some of you flashbacks to failed algebra quizzes.

The upshot is, that it has been six years since my age was a prime number.

It’s good to be prime, again.

Continue reading Being prime

Tumbling

The last several weeks have not been good on the mood front.

At all.

Continue reading Tumbling

Disentangling

I’ve been having trouble making progress on my current novel in progress. There are always glitches in these things. Usually if I get hung up on something for too long, I switch to another project for a while and then when I come back to it I can make some headway.

That hasn’t worked.

Continue reading Disentangling