Writing muscle

Last days have been crazy. My daughter started cyber school yesterday. I am determined that cyber school should not be an excuse this year. But already it has required my time, reading preliminary things from teachers, helping Maren gather electronic photos and documents she needs to complete homework.
So many things going on. I have not been sleeping. Up every night at 3am for the last ??? nights. I almost convinced myself that I would make that my writing time. But alas, last night was the first I didn't wake up. After I got my son off to school, I sat around starting to read a new novel. Something about the beginning sparked my desire to write. I was already dressed for my morning walk, so I decided to use the time to gather my writing thoughts. But once again, at home, I suffered interruptions.
I did get back to it, but the work is tedious. No flow. I fight every sentence I put down. I know that the only cure for this is to keep writing. I also know I am allowed to write bad things. I can go back and fix them when the book gets going.
Writing is a muscle. I just need to keep exercising it. I am going to be a little sore until I get myself in the groove.

First Paragraph

First lines/paragraphs of a book need to command attention. They are daunting to write and fun to read. Do a search of "novel first lines" or "novel first paragraphs" and the writing will amaze you. How can I write anything that has that much power? I had a fairly pithy opening to my first novel. Arriving at a follow up to "My grandmothers were lesbians..." is going to take some doing.

I offer up the first paragraph of what I have written so far no to get reviews--it is too raw for that, but to hopefully show a progression as this project continues. Is it strong enough for a first paragraph? I don't know. I do know it will be the most revised part of my book.

Her daughter’s lime green eye shadow was unflattering on Melanie and several degrees of inappropriate for the occasion, but that was precisely why she was wearing it. The black dress was expected. The shoes, a practical choice, were wedge heels that would not sink under her weight at the grave site as she stood next to her tall husband. Under the strain of such respectability; she had to wear the lime eye shadow: It was her only nod to the farce that was death on a sunny day. Melanie could cry her green tears behind sunglasses while the minister recited scripture—some passage that came prepackaged for unexpected funerals.

I have probably alienated all the men with my first sentence. Sad, but true, men are not going to gravitate toward my books or any other that is so heavily invested in the female experience. I am setting the tone, setting up the action. A married woman with a daughter of the age to wear neon shadows is attending the funeral of someone who died unexpectedly when times were good. She is a woman who can conform when absolutely necessary, but prefers autonomy.

It will be interesting to see how this first paragraph changes over time.

Word Count : a low 275

Starting on the book

I made an intention while in yoga class. I was dedicating my day's practice to the beginning of my novel. And during meditation, I had a flash of how to set up my main character according to the four levels of reality that were described to me by a friend of mine who is initiated into two different esoteric traditions. The realities she described really resonated with me. (I have not yet figured out a definitive origin of these realities. An online search of "the four realities" brings up many articles for further research.)

The physical reality--just the facts, straight description without commentary.
The psychological reality--this is where we turn the facts into story--give them meaning.
The mythic reality--Story told over and over becomes bigger until it is mythic, becomes an archetype.
The essential reality--where all is one. The essential being of a person does not change.

I spent the better part of the morning doing some research on this and archetypes. In asking about my novel/main character I formulated the questions: What is my character has a defining moment as a child and she transforms that moment into a story that she retells throughout her lifetime until it becomes mythic and a guiding force? And what if she finds out later that her story has been wrong? She must take a journey and make a new mythology for herself.

If you read SUMMERS AT BLUE LAKE, you will understand that these same questions could very well describe the protagonist BJ. I hope it will not be too similar a story. What archetypes would I use to describe BJ, and what archetypes will I use to describe this new chaaracter. I also think it will be interesting to see how it will change my writing to consider these layers of reality as I go along.

Making time for my art

The other day I was waiting for my son to get done with cross-country practice. Bored, I began texting. Looking across the parking lot, I saw another mother waiting in her car. She was sketching in a notebook while waiting for her son. HMMM?

Day Two: Google Sites

After I struggled a bit yesterday with Blogger, I received some advice to try Google sites. This would be great (or so I thought). I could get a more classic website appearance thank just a one-page blog, use preprogrammed bits of Google goodness (such as a calendar) in a more prepackaged web design. All I really wanted to customize was the header. I customized my Blogger header. Blogger and Google are under the same umbrella. I'd have it done in no time.

No such luck. I can't figure out the dimensions to upload artwork that will fit. Even when I get the artwork uploaded it has a border. HTML won't load. And it still has the generic page title in big bold letters, which I somehow can't delete. I tried googling for help, but googling "google site" with any combination of other words does not yield helpful results. I am back to my jaded self. But if I can't even manage a simple header, what then?

Nap? Try again? Move onto actual writing? Clean my desk? Get out some watercolors and move outside?

My eyes are bugging. I think nap will win in the short term. I call on the dream world for my next step.

I am the scroll; I am she who writes on the scroll.

I spent several days working on the technical aspects of this blog. I researched (again!) how to design my own header. I searched widgets--some which will require tweaking over time, some of which have yet to be added. No more headaches from site maintenance; I want this blog to run itself so I can concentrate on my real work. It needs to 1) gather my business dates from the time I enter them into my own calendar 2) update my gallery instantly when I upload photos 3) show a word count of my novel so I can measure progress and 4) shamelessly solicit encouragement. My updates themselves will be short and sweet--concentrating on the challenges and soaring moments in my writing/art practice.

My idea was to start this blog and my creative New Year as my kids started school. A new dawn for us all. But with son starting before Labor Day and daughter starting after, there seemed no clear cut date for my debut. The first of any month seems so clean, and there is a beautiful chill in the air to day--so I am beginning now.

I have been trying to decide if my efforts today constitute worthy creative achievement or if I am starting this blog on a bad foot by offering the creation of this blog/site as an excuse not to write, not to paint. What are the rules here? What are my goals?

I want to finish another novel by the time my kids finish school in June 2010.

I'd like to do 12 (show worthy) paintings in a year.

But this is assuming I have something to say, something to show. I have half-written novels. Do I dust off one of them? Do I go with my children's book? Do I continue with smart women's fiction? (This is what my agent calls my genre. Unfortunately, there is no such designation in the bookstores. A marketer's nightmare and the excuse my publisher gave for not doing more to promote my novel.)

And paintings? What do I want to paint? I have been asked to do my work (which is Lovely!) but make it bigger, do landscapes, do local landscapes, do industrial landscapes, add a bride in the foreground, try a different medium. It is to the point where I wonder what parts of my Lovely! painting style do they want me to keep.

And so, I begin on this journey again. Trying to stay true to myself. Trying to keep to a schedule of output but at the same time being detached from outcome. And trying to drown out the words of my Dad when he asks (at every meeting), "Well, Jill, what should I tell people when they ask what you are doing?" My silence is always followed by the knife, "Should I just tell them you are a housewife?"

"Tell them 'I am the scroll; I am she who writes on the scroll.'"

That should shut them up temporarily.