Day Seven and My Day Off

Opening Line to a famous novel.
There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.
Name the novel and author.

This is a good example of how to raise a question in the reader's mind. The opening paragraph should always raise questions in the reader's mind. And do the following three C's
capture
captivate
convince

And while I'm on C's there are 5 C'c of a good story
Character, Conflict, Choice, Change, and Compassion. I would also add Surprise.

Sundays are always the same, the family gathers, I cook a big meal, we watch TV. I go to bed early and read. By five I need some time alone. Life is dull on Sunday. I didn't sleep last night, so I have dragged all day. Tomorrow I start Chapter 4. I'm skipping Chapter 3, as I was hacking with no inspiration.

Funny Quote

"Frankenstein is a book about what happens when a man tries to have a baby without a woman."---Ann K. Mellor

Jane gets the prize for the borrowed title contest. It was Shakespeare--Sonnet 30.
A Victorian pill box is on the way.

Blue sky, cool air and I'm feeling up today. Three days of rain and the rivers are flooding up here in the north country. I'm working on Chapter 3 and know I have to build suspense and a big question in the end. Well Hell, I don't have a clue as to what that's going to be. I love writing. It's like going into a wilderness. Today I'm hacking a path with a machete. Day 6. Lily is on snake patrol. We always have a problem when we have high water. Although, she's been falling down on her job lately. We have a cabinet in the garage that I put can goods in and my son reached in yesterday for my chicken noodle soup (I eat chicken noodle soup every day) and curled up next to the soup was a cotton-mouth snake. I don't know why, but I seem to have lost my appetite for soup.

Advice from Elmore Leonard--"Try to leave out all the parts that readers skip."

Quote of the Day

"My books are water; those of the great geniuses are wine.
Everybody drinks water." Mark Twain

TWENTY FOUR INCHES OF RAIN
When you live in the country and get this much rain the toilets don't work.
The lake is flowing into the yard.
My wonderful sand road to the house is flooded. It's 1/8 of a mile to the main road so I may be house-bound.
Lily kept her legs crossed all day yesterday and finally went when I carried her box into the garage.
Please excuse the spelling mistakes, my spellchecker is on the front porch waiting for the rain to stop, which won't happen anytime today.

This is a game called borrowed Titles:

Remembrance of Things Past---By Proust
Taken from:
"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past."
Who wrote this?

Day five. 2500 words. Yesterday we had no electric so I wrote on paper. Oh well. I like what I wrote (that's something)
but one page a day isn't going to make the deadline.
Back to the hot seat, the grind, the tears.

Author, Author

The writing process is a matter of patience and discipline. You have to go to the desk every day. So here I am on day four of my new novel, and it's around 4:30 in the morning. Lily, my cat is helping me by sitting in front of my computer screen. She isn't slapping my legs to go outside because it's raining. And why am I sitting here writing in my journal, because it's 4:30 and I'm trying to warm my brain up. I haven't a clue as to what I'm going to write today. Is that writer's block? I doubt it, I really don't know the focus of Chapter II that well.

According to my outline, I had better build the world of Margaret Saville. You know Margaret, she's the sister who Robert Walton writes to in Frankenstein. I'm off to create another dream world.

BTW--I'm no longer angry about my flower bed. I supressed my feelings and ate enough food to get over it. And like an idot I stepped on the scales this morning. I worried about my heart this morning. Will this type of behavior give me a heart attack?

Henry James

Henry James wrote that the essence of his craft as a writer was loneliness--more profound than discipline or genius. As for myself and many writers, solitude remains the home base. Writing is a lonely art.

I want to thank my sister, Jane for creating this beautiful Blog for me. And now down to the business of the day. My deadline is January 15th for the first draft of Dreamworld. This is day three and I have 2,000 words.

My day went something like this. I was furious with my husband for digging up my lily bed. So angry, that I thought about driving 40 miles to spend the afternoon in a movie. Then I decided that it's only flowers and in the grand scheme of things it's not all that important. Besides, I had a moment of flash-back that I was being my mother.

I cheated today and did not write but spent three hours thinking and planning my plot. Now, I'm working in my idea book so that next week I'll remember all those threads.

Jane called and we discussed a wonderful, interesting book that she is working on. I wish I had her DISCIPLINE.

Blogging

If I use the blockquote around my text on edit Html mode, I can get these wild colors.

Family stories

Who are the people in my family.
What were the histories that shaped them?
How do my family's stories impact on my history?
True stories are full of hesitation and passion--love and lies--deception and illusions--and they keep getting rearranged.
Are we broken or just damaged.
Will the picture of my family lock together to form a cipher that decodes our actions for and against each other?

Tangle, tangle what a spider's web we weave.

The more we love someone, the easier it is to bleed.
Great joy is the family that supports.
Deep depression is the family that deports.

In time all our lives bind to one, family.

Lost and Found

I'm lost and the question is will I ever find my artistic self. It seems to dwell outside somewhere. Out of place and time, that's what I've decided. Am I a Victorian or Roman? In a mystery/romance? If I could find my way like Tolkien and spend years in a fantasy. Hush something whispers in my ear. "YOU DON'T HAVE YEARS." By the way, Tolkien is not listed in the Guide of Modern World Literature.

Wednesday

On any given Wednesday I hope to find some Other.
Some Other way of living.
A pinch of pleasure, some measure of happiness.
Not this gray, dreary can't get out of bed.
Wednesday.