Thoughts on the Road (about writing)

We decided to stay in Des Moines overnight to break the trip back into a couple of days. Des Moines is a comfortable big city; I could live here. Richard, on the other hand, is worried about the snowy weather, which we are not having right now. It’s 46 degrees out and perpetually rainy. We’re waiting out the dense fog advisory south of us, so we’re at a Starbucks so I can write.

I’m bouncing ideas off Richard for a future novel in the Hidden in Plain Sight series. Apparently six is not enough. I like the characters in the series too much to quit writing. Right now, it involves the desert commune, Hearts are Mountains, and threats to the Archetypes there. If you’re preternatural beings with lots of power, this shouldn’t be much of a problem, right? But there’s the part where you don’t want to reveal your true, near-immortal identity. And the part where you used to be guardians of the humans, charged with keeping their ancestral memories, but as guardians you also can’t allow yourselves to be killed. The threat extends to the first child born in the commune, and the collective is immoderately protected of him… The story needs much more thought, but leave it to say there are problems with just killing the aggressors, and problems in not killing them. This is just an idea. There are other ideas, and we have another 2.5-hour drive to come up with them.

It would be nice if this story idea would break my writers’ block. I have been taking a break from writing because it’s not coming easily for me. I’m fighting the usual misgivings that come with being a writer. I have heard I would have these misgivings even if I were a writer on a contract like few lucky writers are.

Does the world need to hear my stories? Probably not as much as I need to tell them. But I always keep hope.

Background Research

We got up early to write this morning, having arrived at Starbucks by 6:15. I’ve written 500 words done in two and a half hours, which is slow, but I’ve had to do several searches on Google in the process. I searched mostly on the nutrition status of several wild greens. I’m happy to say that garlic mustard is high in Vitamin C, so after shipping and imports in the US have broken down, people will still be able to get Vitamin C by eating weeds.

I’m writing about the collapse of the United States, after all. How does one prepare for that? Self-sufficiency (which is impossible, it turns out) and barter arrangements. If one anticipates the worst, one can prepare. A collective with a high number of educated individuals can anticipate, so this is not the tension in the group. Instead, they struggle with the fact that they will weather the catastrophic failure of the economy. Their battle is whether to share with others vs hide within themselves. With preternatural entities and a miraculous garden, this is not a trivial matter. A value conflict, with a side of fear.

I have had to do a lot of searches to write this book. Everything Barn Swallows’ Dance does to adapt to a calamitous change, I have to research. Questions like ‘How much wheat do 65 people eat in a year?’, ‘Dry-wash media for biodiesel’, ‘Nutrition in garlic mustard’, and ‘How much tannerite needed to collapse a building?’. (The latter question is one of those that writers have nightmares about, fearing the FBI will show up on the doorstep.)

It took the Internet to entice me to write. Before, I had the same questions to answer, but no way to do it quickly. Whose Hearts are Mountains was a story I started in graduate school, but never finished because I didn’t know what life in a desert was like. Once the Internet matured to the point where I could ask questions, I could write.

I need to go back to writing, but first, I need to find a recipe for garlic mustard pesto.

Road Warrior Go!

I write better at Starbucks. It’s official. I’m at Bux and I’ve written 500 words without a lot of effort. Yesterday’s writing looks better. Apparently, it takes a hot lavender latte for me to get writing done.

Or maybe it’s the split mind thing. Part of my mind is paying attention to the activities around me. Two of my acquaintances are talking at a table to my left; a group of women my age or a little older are chatting behind me. To my right, the baristas are puttering around behind the counter. There’s some innocuous background music playing. While all this is happening, I am picking words and writing this. It’s so much easier when there’s noise in the background than it is in my silent home.

Or maybe it’s because I’m writing on my road warrior gear. This consists of an iPod Pro, a Logi keyboard and mouse setup, and a cable to plug in for power. (All in lavender). The keyboard feels springier than my laptop keyboard, and the colors are more stimulating. And my setup can go just about anywhere (with the exception being someplace without a table).

I have to fix my home space to make it easier to write. I said this yesterday, but today it’s obvious that I write better out in public. Or at least at Starbucks.

Busy doing NaNo

I’m sorry I haven’t written lately. I have been busy doing NaNoWriMo, and it’s been a wild time. I’ve finished editing Avatar of the Maker, although I will revisit it later when it’s fresh. But I have 23,000 words left to write (or the editing equivalent) to win NaNo. So what am I going to do?

I’m going to lay out another novel in the Archetype universe, tentative title “Carrying Light“. This one takes place ten years after Avatar of the Maker, when the social and economic structures of the US are crumbling. The end of the novel In fact, the first battle in the collapse of the US and the beginning of Whose Hearts are Mountains. So think of it as the prequel to that.

Writing it will be interesting, because one of the main characters is Richard’s. He has a sequel to Gaia’s Hands called Gaia’s Future that needs some editing, and Sage Bertinelli is his main character.

I have a lot of work to do, but it’s fun work. Whee!

Feeling the Tug of Writing

It’s about time

I didn’t write yesterday, but I really wanted to. I was tired after a day of meetings and taking care of my husband (the stomach flu, not anything dangerous). But I felt the Spring in my bones, and I felt my muse over my shoulder and I wondered if I could get back into my story that needs writing.

Stories on the docket

I have, in fact, two stories that I could write. One of them is contemporary fantasy, taking place on my fictitious collective Barn Swallows Dance, and in the realm of the Archetypes, InterSpace. Changes happen such that the Archetypes are slowly being fired from their task carrying the essence of humanity and thus humans’ lives. The Archetypes explode at their sudden lack of purpose. The only person who can stop the bloodshed, if at all, is a pregnant eighteen-year-old girl who carries the gift of influencing history randomly. To do so, she faces the dangers of a human in InterSpace.

The other is fantasy romance, about a thirty-something librarian who encounters a charming neighbor who she falls for, to her friend’s surprise. When the man disappears, the librarian meets his goblin accomplice, and she embarks on a journey to rescue her man from a very possessive queen of Faerie.

So there are two stories that I could write — and a third option, which would be to come up with a new story. I don’t know that I have any knocking around my brain right now. I am inspired by the extrordinary relationships of ordinary people, the surprising things hidden in plain sight, and the unexpected consequences of seemingly ordinary things. And people, beautiful people who I can write fanciful things about.

All I need to do is write.

Rebeginning a Project

What a fine time to get inspired

There’s nothing like feeling inspired just as the semester is about to get busy. Tomorrow is the first day of the semester, where I have two classes to teach and office hours and all the little things to take care of, and I want to play with the next book. I hope this goes away, at least for a week, so I feel like I’m beginning work instead of devoting myself to my sideline.

What’s the book about?

The name of the book is Maker’s Seeds, and it concerns the Archetypes that show up in Apocalypse and Whose Hearts are Mountains. The Archetypes are, for intents and purposes, humanoid immortals, and they exist to hold humans’ cultural memories. If the Archetype dies through violence to their hearts or heads, their people will die because of the death of cultural memory.

The above books (none of which I have published) focus more on the human (or half-human) point of view. Maker’s Seeds looks at the Archetype point of view, concerning their Maker’s decision to slowly remove the responsibilities of holding humans’ cultural memories from the Archetypes. The result is a race of powerful immortals choosing sides in a schism, fighting in battle to the death — before the Maker has divested most of their cultural memories, thus endangering much of humanity.

The two central figures of the story are Luke Dunstan, an Archetype and Leah Inhofer, a seventeen-year-old human. The opposing viewpoints between the two — old vs young, Archetype vs human — make for drama as they try to prevent the Battle between Archetypes and the potential annihilation of millions of humans.

That being said …

I’m not ready to write it yet. I’m not willing to let loose my creative mind before the semester starts. Maybe I will this weekend, although I have lost my coffeehouse home because of closure (RIP Board Game Cafe). I hope to reconnect with writing soon.

What is this TikTok thing anyhow?

I’m on TikTok. Yes, I have a TikTok. Yes, I’m old. Yes, I’m probably too old for TikTok. But I have these little books to sell, and anything that can help me do so is welcome.

Someone — a couple people — made obnoxious comments on my TikTok yesterday. The comments even included a reference to “WAP”. (And yes, I understood the reference. I’m not THAT old. If you’re that old, it refers to a really risque song by Cardi B whose lyrics I will not share).

When I get comments, they’re often not positive. Ok, the ones from my friends are, but the ones from the general public are often insulting or argumentative. I don’t know if it’s the nature of TikTok, the fact that I’m using it at 58, or something about me or my posts. I don’t answer the comments, because if I’ve learned anything in my old age, it’s ‘don’t feed the trolls’.

But what do you DO with TikTok?

I don’t really know what to do with TikTok. My mind doesn’t seem to work in a TikTok way. I don’t argue philosophy or eat plants from the forest or deliver speeches or do stand-up comedy. My stuff is like a fireside chat with a weird person. Here’s an example.

I guess what I need to do is find a niche. “Fireside chat with a weird person” probably isn’t a bad niche. But maybe a better one will come to me. I have to admit I come up with ideas about one minute till filming, which makes me a bit of an improv artist. A weirdo with a fireside chat, after all.

And I’m hoping for positive messages to outweigh the idiots who responded on my TikTok yesterday.

Need Ideas for Writing!

Where do my ideas come from?

Most of my ideas, strangely enough, come from dreams, and I haven’t had any inspiring dreams lately (except for the one last night where Jason Momoa helped me with an awkward yard task and then winked at me.) I write fantasy and science fiction with a strong relationship (one might call it romance) element, so dreams about unusual happenings or intriguing strangers (not counting Jason Momoa) tend to provoke my dreams.

My imagination of course fuels and expounds upon these dreams. A certain “what if” element comes into play. What if there was a collective in the middle of nowhere that had to keep its reality secret? What if a woman’s annihilating power was disguised as a mental illness? What if the end of the world could be triggered by killing one person?

The well has run dry

Here’s my frustration — I haven’t come up with any new ideas lately. This could be because I’m just coming off a semester; it may be because I’m doing very well with my moods; it could be because nobody intriguing has visited my dreams (not counting Jason Momoa). I have been assigned by an editor I met to start writing short stories for submission until I can get some traction on my novels.

LOS ANGELES, CA – DECEMBER 12: Jason Momoa arrives at the premiere of Warner Bros. Pictures’ “Aquaman” at the Chinese Theatre on December 12, 2018 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Kevin Winter/Getty Images)

What are the solutions?

One thing I’ve done is write new stories based on the already written ones. This is why I have four novels and 10 short stories dealing with the universe of Archetypes. I have been charged with writing short stories, however, and I need to get out of my world and write standalone stories rather than “reader magnets”. One solution writers often use is writing prompts, or phrases/sentences providing an idea for the writer to go forth with. a couple of my favorite short stories were written on prompts (not about Jason Momoa). Another solution, one that I will be using today, is bouncing ideas off my husband (who is not Jason Momoa).

My request to you

I would love it if you threw me some story prompts to write with, hopefully fantasy (and not with Jason Momoa).

I need ideas!

I made 50k (50 editing hours) for Camp NaNo yesterday, and I’m almost done editing Reclaiming the Balance, which is in part a parable about how “woke” people can sometimes get caught being prejudicial of a new situation. It’s also a story about a love affair between a sculptor and a beautiful, truly androgynous being who was “born yesterday” as an adult. I guess it’s also a story about how our pasts cripple us in the present.

I feel a need for more ideas. Short stories this time, because I have enough novels, or so I’ve been told. My idea of stories, though, are mystical, mythical, and at times provocative.

I need some good, weird dreams as material to write. That’s how I’ve gotten my best novels. I need something new to write stories about — most of my short stories are about the world around Barn Swallows’ Dance (the fictitious ecocollective that keeps many secrets); one takes place in the Kringle world. I need to write some standalones to submit to journals and other outfits.

What I need is some time to think. I should have some of that this summer.

“Where do you get your ideas?”

This is the question every writer gets asked. Usually the response is vague dread, because many of us don’t know on the spot where we get our ideas. The answer comes only after a good session of introspection, and at the moment the question gets asked, we can’t reflect on the question rapidly.

Over the years I’ve done this introspection, and these are the answers I’ve come up with:

From other books I’ve read. But I need to be careful not to plagairize.
From dreams/daydreaming. This is my favorite source. I often take a dream and interpret it using Jungian methods, which I call interrogating the dream.
From conversations with my husband, which often start with “What if?”
From observation. I don’t know if I’ve ever written a story entirely from observation, but scenes and characters often come from this
From what I’ve written previously. Sequels!

Sometimes I don’t have any ideas. Right now I feel like I need to write a new novel (after revising a couple) and I don’t have any ideas. Ok, actually, I have three ideas based on series I have going, but I don’t know how excited I’m getting about them. Not all ideas are workable:

One of the books would require living in Poland for at least three months to get the flavor of the place. I have no money, no knowledge of the Polish language, and no tour guide.
Another which is part of my Archetype universe, and for some reason it’s not grabbing me.
Yet another in the Archetype universe that’s too nebulous to write about.

I think I need some dreams or daydreaming right now to inspire me. My dreams last night were stupid and not worth writing about. In my dreams, an actor friend of mine got a nose job and I got really angry because he had succumbed to dominant culture beauty standards. That’s it. Unless I’m writing a warped version of The Picture of Dorian Gray, I don’t see much use in this dream.

So where do I get my ideas? Sometimes, nowhere.