Soul-Reviving Reading for Writers

There are several books about writing that I re-read on a regular basis: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland, and Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. None of them are about the technicalities of writing, but rather about the fulfillment and connection to oneself and the world outside of oneself that writing can bring.

Writing Down the Bones was one of the first books I purchased when I decided to leave the world of writing for a living and to write for myself instead. Churning out articles day-in and day-out had burnt away my soul. If I continued to do it as an occupation, I knew I would never write my novel(s). Goldberg's Zen approach to the writing process was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Now she's endorsing NaNoWriMo.

Write or DIE

I love this guy. Dr. Wicked is the inventor of the program, Write or Die. He has taken this difficult thing - getting words out - and made it more fun. Which is essentially what NaNoWriMo is about, too. Now I want him to create a program called Butt in Chair, which will actually force you into a chair in front of your computer where you will launch Write or Die in order to hammer out your novel.

My illustration. His quote.

Calling all NaNo-ites!! Or would it be WriMo-nians?

We're not quite half-way through October and I'm already geared up for National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo to those in the know) in November. I've been jotting down story ideas and sketching out rough outlines for about three months. I've ordered coffee and tea in bulk, and there's a stack of snack cakes held in reserve in the pantry. I've washed all my comfy, flannel jimjams, bought a new pair of slippers, and stocked up on that powder shampoo stuff so I don't even have to take the time to wash my hair on the weekends. 

(Sexy lady, no?)

This year I'm taking no prisoners!

I will get my 50,000 words by the end of the month or die trying!

(Probably as a casualty of Twinkie and caffeine poisoning.)

That winner's t-shirt SHALL!! BE!! MINE!! RAAAAWWWRRR!!

*cough, cough, cough*

Yeah, so if you can't tell, I'm pretty determined to get my 50thou this year. I did in 2009, but 2010 was not a very good year for me. I think I was lucky to get a smidgen over 25thou, once all was said and done. The major difference between the two years was in '09 I had an outline, and in '10 I was a pantser. Also in my successful year, I met every weekend with the NaNo group in Norman for a write-in session. In 2010 I think I met with them once.

SHOUT OUT TO THE NORMAN NANOs WHO ARE THE BEST, BRIGHTEST, AND MOST TALENTED IN THE WORLD!

I think I've even managed to coerce a friend into joining in on the NaNoWriMo craziness this year. He even purchased a bright, shiny, new laptop for the occassion.

(Dude, don't think I don't see you lurking there. Now that it's in print on my blog, there's no backing out. It's practically a legally binding contract.)

During the month of November, postings on this blog might be even sparcer than usual. I'm trying to schedule things ahead as auto-posts, but I am finding out quickly that I am not that freaking organized. Maybe I can find a way to work it into my word count.

Weekend Fun Times

What happens when it rains, you're bored, and you're broke?

'Stache happens.

\

 "Why me? WHY??"

That's what his eyes are saying.

This post was inspired by the mysterious mustachios at...

Book Review - Nobody's Baby But Mine by Suzanne Elizabeth Phillips

Even though I'm not a big fan of Romance, every so often I venture into the genre. On a friend's recommendation, I picked up Nobody's Baby But Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips.

Hey, I'm open minded. I'm willing to give it a shot. You never know, right? People's tastes change.

I finished all 350+pages the book to find that... uh... nope. Still don't care for it. I still prefer a plot that has a romantic interest as a subplot. Romance as the entire focus of a book just doesn't carry a story for me.

For instance, if the plot had been about a female physicist who, while making her Noble Prize winning discovery, decides to have a baby and raise the child as a single mom - that would have been better for me. Then the ensuing romantic entanglement with the sperm donor would have been a bonus.

The sex scenes were well-written and steamy, though occasionally the words "throbbing", "heaving", and "manhood" resulted in uncontrollable eye-rolling on my part. There were abusive overtones, both verbal and physical, that made me uncomfortable, but maybe that's just me being overly sensitive. Maybe that form of verbal and physical sparring is "romantic" for some people, but it's not my cup of tea. Some no-neck brute of a professional football player grabs my arm like that in public and I'm going to flash my license to carry concealed, if you know what I mean.

That probably explains why I prefer books like Monster Hunters International over ones with pink covers. Not very girly of me, I know, but there you have it.

I Am the Anti-Fashionista

Lately I've been working on a few simple drawings in a series of my favorite things.

I would never be classifed as a shoe maven. To me, shoes are practical items meant to protect your feet from pointy rocks, stickers, and spiders that need smooshing. It's the one thing that I am practical about.

Though when I find a pair of shoes I like, it's true love. The forever kind of love. Love through thick and thin, weathering every storm.

Recently a friend had to stage an intervention to get me to throw away a pair of shoes that I had worn so long that they had been reduced to flip flops. (They started out as patent leather mary-jane flats.)

I wore them almost every day.

I wore them until water seeped through the holes.

I wore them until the soles tore away from the uppers.

Then I wore them some more.

I wore them until my friend said, "Holybabyjebus, I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!! You look like a hobo! Give me those stupid, stinky, pathetic shoes. I can't stand to hear you shwip-shwopping around this place anymore. They've had their time and now they've gotta go."

When I turned to try and run/shuffle away as quickly as possible with my shoes shwip-shwopping, they tackled me around the knees, forcibly removed the shoes, and threw them in the garbage.

I'm not ashamed to say there were a few tears shed.

Now I've found a new pair of shoes to love.

Unfortunately, they are so expensive that I will only ever own the one pair. That's alright though. When it's true love, who needs others?