pendrifter

A chill and misty Tuesday morning, the day so uncertain weatherwise–you’d think it November instead of July. Lovely weather through the long weekend. I celebrated the 4th, also my birthday, with my sisters, nieces, and cousin. We laughed a lot talking about the eccentricities of our great aunts, sisters from a large family of 11, all born during the final years of the nineteenth century and the first years of the twentieth, and who ranged from middle-aged to elderly when we were children. They’ve all passed on now, but we have fond and funny memories of how they were.

We saw ECLIPSE on Saturday, enjoyed it immensely, and on Sunday, me, my younger sister, and my cousin went back for another viewing. This one was done much better than NEW MOON, and they finally got the make-up right for the vampires–all of them were appropriately beautiful. The story was well done, and I was delighted to see they managed to weave in Jasper’s and Rosalie’s backstories. And oh yeah the wolves were magnificent! And the battle with the newborns fast and furious. All in all, I think they did a great job on this one. (And a friend of mine hadn’t seen it yet so yesterday I saw it again with her. Loved it.)

Last week I worked on Silk River ( a title I won’t be keeping), no writing, just story notes and lots of thinking, about the characters, point of view, where to start, and what to say–keeping in mind that every scene must have a purpose, and turning over idea after idea, feathers and leaves. My main character is Jewel Garcia, a young woman who has suffered trauma and who comes face to face with a particular anguish of choice in the story. I’ve got my own anguish of choice going on as I think about Jewel and her dramatic situation.

My other stories are calling, but I’m trying to focus on Silk River; the rest of them will have to languish a while, ‘though I do have to consider this month’s short story. Come to think of it, how have I done with those?

• January – Breath of the Grave, finished and sent out.
• February – Submitted Shadow to market.
• March – Breath of the Grave went out again, and worked on Three Heartbeats.
• April – Wrote Parting Gift for the 24-Hour Short Story contest.
• May – Began writing Werewolf, Zombies, Sunrise.
• June – Still writing Werewolf, Zombies, Sunrise.

And now it’s July. I suppose WZS could be it, but that last scene just won’t present itself.

Got an idea for a fantasy novel where the hero is a gargoyle. Must think about that one a bit. Like the idea, have scribbled a few notes about the hero. No story yet.

Spent a glorious 4th of July birthday with my sisters and nieces (the demonettes). Watching the youngest demonette (she turned 5 on Sunday) in the pool, I realized the child is a bundle of annoyances–in the way of mischievous, energetic children. She insisted on belly-flopping into the pool, sending tsunamis over her mother and me; spitting water at her older sister, throwing things at her, harassing her with the water toys, standing on the edge of the jacuzzi and giving her mother visions of her falling off and breaking herself–that got her a time-out for a bit–and generally having a good ol’ time, to our amusement. My sister offered to give both of them to me–delightful as they are, I politely declined.

Sweet Taboo is on the sideline for a moment. Shadow Walk has lured me into working on it for a little while–writing the second draft. I roughly finished the first draft years ago; roughly ’cause I left a hole near the end; now I’m hoping to finish it again without a hole. Who knows–might have two manuscripts ready by the end of July!

There’s an interesting Nora Roberts interview at Borders (link below) that reminded me of the value of the discovery draft. I tend to start writing as soon as I get a story idea, and of course, I get into trouble. My first drafts are definitely discovery drafts since I often do not have a clue to where I’m going with a story when I start it. I’m really trying to break that habit–somewhat–and teach myself to outline first. Then my discovery drafts won’t be so nightmarish.

Happy writing, d:)

<a href=”http://www.borders.com/online/store/ArticleView_robertsnora2?cmpid=SL_20090707_RWB”></a>

Autumn, Lucien Levy Dhurmer

This has been quite a year for me–a new job at the start of the year that turned out to be a great disappointment, a return to the old job, having major surgery, and on top of it all, losing Mom. I’ve rarely felt lonely, but I feel lonely now. Mom’s death has left a gnawing emptiness that I suppose in time will fade some, although I don’t know if it’ll ever go away. Since I cannot face that emptiness, I’ve turned my attention to the business of living. My half-sister, who lost her mother, and a good friend of mine who also lost her mother several years ago, tell me the first two years after are hard, and then it gets easier. Time heals, as they say.

I loved Mom with all my heart; we were companions. We’d hang out together, she’d talk and talk, I’d listen, we’d laugh over family stories, complain to each other about family problems; she’d tell me all her worries and her dreams; I’d update her on my doings. Looking back I realize Mom and I shared much–and for that I’m grateful. I never forgot she was “MOM” but she was also much like an older sister and best friend. I’m glad for all the hugs and kisses I gave her, for all the “I love you’s,” for the trips we took together, for the times I made her laugh, for that chuckle and wink she would do when she’d successfully accomplished a task or solved a problem, for the Mother’s Days, for the sound of her voice telling me everything, and for all the good stuff she taught me–independence, self-reliance, how to roll with the punches, how to be strong, the pursuit of dreams. She’s gone too soon.

I’ve taken refuge in my writing; it’s where I always go to deal with my troubles. A part of me sits in a fog, and another part redirects itself and makes it bearable. Mom used to say “Knock me down and I’ll get up every time.” How to get up every time is the most valuable lesson she taught me.