What I am Doing for My Summer Vacation

First, it’s not really a summer vacation. Although I’m on a 10-month appointment as a faculty member, I also work over the summer doing internships. It’s not a big deal, though, doing internships — it’s mostly monitoring the students through assignments and touching base with them, and going on site visits. I don’t get a lot of money for internships, because this year I only have ten or eleven interns.

Other than internships, I hope to write. A lot. I have a book that wants to be written, and it’s starting to get interesting. I will have to edit it good so that I think it’s interesting from the start, but I’m in the ‘getting things down on paper’ stage. I wonder if I have more books left in me, and I realize I’m sitting on at least two ideas. So we will see.

I’m also gardening the best I can. I have a tangle of seedlings in the grow room that I have to put out to harden off soon. I would say most of what I’m planting is herbs, because my sister gave me a ton of herb seeds for Christmas. And I like fresh herbs. There will be a few vegetables because they are nice to eat. I’m hoping I can motivate to weed like I’ve had trouble with just about every year I’ve put in a garden.

I hope to do a writing retreat in KC sometime. Ideally (a hint to my husband) a trip to The Elms, a massage, and some grotto time. I would settle for a trip to 21c, some Broadway Cafe time, and a quick visit to see some kittens at Whiskers Cat Cafe. Or someplace totally new, as long as there’s a coffeehouse nearby and some decent places to eat.

Nothing fancy on the plans here. I just hope to have a good summer.

Just Keep Writing

I wrote 1200 words yesterday on the latest novel, which is more than I had been writing for a while. I still don’t know what I think of this novel — it seems like a lot of conversations right now. I don’t know if it has enough action yet. The good news is that the story is setting up future situations and complications as it should. I have to remind myself to just keep writing — I can edit later.

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I have this theory that I write better when writing is distracting me from other things I need to do. Right now I have papers to grade, but suddenly I have this hankering to write. I’ve scheduled part of today to write and part to rest. Tomorrow I have a concert to go to in the afternoon; I may grade during the morning. Or Monday; Monday will be soon enough.

I will get through this semester. I will write this book.

Summer Vacation is So Close

If I get through the next two weeks, I tell myself, I’ll be scot-free.

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It’s that time of the semester. The last week before finals, and I have two major assignments coming in on Friday. And two essay exams the week after. And then summer and internships.

Summer and internships are a lot easier, because my time is more my own. I have paperwork, grading, and internship visits, but I have more freedom to schedule them. And I have time on my own.

Maybe I’ll get something written.

A Discouraging Moment TM

I’m not sure I have another book in me anymore.

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This is probably me having a Discouraging Moment TM but I’m not feeling that obsession to write. I have three partial novels and one novella, all of which have stalled.

The latest document — I know what’s wrong with it but not how to fix it. I sit and think about how to introduce what it needs and my brain dissolves into mush. I feel like my brain cells are devoted to work and my future garden, the seedlings in the basement and the research proposals on the computer.

I might take some time this morning to talk with my husband and see what I come up with. Then again, I might grade papers. That’s what writing has been lately.

Coffeehouse Thoughts

I’m at the Broadway Cafe in Kansas City, hoping my seedlings upstate are doing well. I’m drinking a latte and absorbing a real coffee house ambiance, which I have needed for a while.

Not that I dislike my local Starbucks, because it fills in for the real coffeehouses we’ve had in town, and is better than the current place that serves coffee downtown, which is a defeated pile of go-cups. But it’s not a real coffeehouse experience because of its corporate nature.

Coffeehouse thoughts: It’s about three weeks till the end of the semester, for which I am really thankful. Summer will have interns, but that means a much more flexible schedule with some rest. That sounds good to me.

I feel exceptionally calm right now, like I will make it to the end of the school year without the disturbances of the past, without unfinished projects with looming deadlines. It feels good not being manic or depressed or both.

Writing is going slow; I haven’t quite found the rhythm of the story yet. It hasn’t developed into enough of a story. I need to get there and not run away from another novel.

I need more coffee. I could fall asleep in my latte right now.

Another Book Already?

Did I mention that I’m working on another book? I don’t remember whether I did.

Anyhow, it’s another book in the Hidden in Plain Sight series, which is already full of stories, but I thought I’d write another. This one, which does not have a title yet, happens in 2015, before any of the other books so far. It is the setup for the collective Hearts are Mountains featured in Whose Hearts are Mountains, which has not been released yet. It’s an origin story about how a bunch of Archetypes, beings who are usually solitary, form a commune in the Nevada desert.

It’s going slow, especially as there are necessary conversations that have to drive my main characters to where they actually contemplate such a crazy thing. I feel like I’m doing too much talking as I write, but I’m in the “getting the words down” stage. I’m thinking, though, I’m thinking of how to get more action in the first three chapters.

There’s also a love affair between an archetype and a human, which results in a Nephilim who is not brought up to understand her heritage, who also becomes important to the plot of Whose Hearts are Mountains. So the events of twenty years later have their roots in this story.

I love the process of watching a story take shape, even one that presents a struggle such as this one.

My Career Choices as a Child

Daily writing prompt
When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

When I was five, I wanted to be a doctor. I think that’s because doctors seemed so different than anyone else I had encountered at that age. They had their own offices, they wore white coats, and they talked to little kids instead of over their heads.

When I was eight, I aspired to be a poet. My third-grade teacher taught an ambitious unit on poetry where we actually wrote in different forms (my diamante was less than desirable, but my limerick was pretty good). She had posted my Groundhog Day poem (free-form) on the door of the classroom. I told my mother I wanted to be a poet and she asked, “Do you like to eat? Poets don’t make enough money to eat.” That was the end of my vocational aspiration, because I did like to eat. I went back to wanting to be a doctor.

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When I was ten, I saw a lot of doctors for a stubborn malady. At that point, I had had enough of doctors, and that cured me of wanting to be one. My career aspirations were on hold until I hit high school. When I was sixteen, I wanted to be a dietitian because I had lost a significant amount of weight. I was what they would call nowadays an orthorexic, someone who followed a strict diet and lost more weight than advisable. I held that aspiration until my sophomore year of college, when I started gaining the weight back and feared the organic chemistry classes I would need to take. I changed to Foods in Business, a corporate foods career.

By the end of my sophomore year, I wanted to be a professor. I didn’t know what I wanted to be a professor of, but I had a friend whose father was a professor and I wanted a lifestyle that would keep me in academia. It took me till my first semester senior year to find the answer. I took a family economics class as an elective, and I fell in love with the class. We talked a lot about why women earned less than men, and I found the discussion intriguing. After class one day, I asked the professor if grad school was a possibility. She escorted me down the hall to the department office and introduced me to the department chair. Thus, I got into graduate school in Family and Consumption Economics pretty easily.

Once I got my PhD, my jobs have been only slight detours in my field. I teach a few psychology classes, due to my many hours in Psychology along the way. I teach human services classes, which in my case are akin to what I trained in. At one point, I wanted to be a winemaker when I retired, but I now think that would be too much physical labor. Now, I want to be a writer when I retire.

Trying for Another Book

So I’m writing a new book, or at least I think I am. I’ve gotten past the layout (which I will revise, I’m sure) and into the actual writing. I have gotten one chapter written and already I find myself out of ideas at the moment. It’s the part of the book where the writer sets up the premise and I already feel like I have that sewn up. And there are three more chapters to develop the premise. I hate when that happens.

I use a template when writing because I feel somewhat impaired by linear storytelling. There is an expectation of when things are supposed to happen in a book, and a template helps with that. For example, in the next part of the book, there’s supposed to be a debate over the future action in the plot: “You should not do the thing.” “Why should I not do the thing?” “Bad things will happen if you do the thing.” (And the protagonist does the thing, and everything goes wrong, and the protagonist’s hubris gets them killed. This is known as a tragedy. I don’t write tragedies. Yet.)

By the end of this book, the intrepid protagonists will gather together, fight against the Council of the Oldest who are trying to keep them from congregating, and start a commune in the desert of Nevada. I hope that’s enough plot to keep the book going. The problem with this story is that it’s writing out a historical event I know happens to my protagonists, but I don’t know if there’s enough there to write. Wish me luck; I need to get some writing in.

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Spring Break

I’ve been officially on Spring Break since Friday, so I don’t have to work this week. I have plans to spend the week doing absolutely nothing but editing a book and watering my seedlings. Maybe napping, since I feel like Daylight Savings Time has screwed up my sleep cycle. A bit of dreaming about Spring.

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It doesn’t feel like Spring Break. I feel like I could go to work today and college would be in session and I would have office hours today. If I went into work today, I would find myself the only one, facing a locked building. So it’s really Spring Break.

I don’t do nothing well. I hope I can occupy myself with things to get through my Spring Break.

Misgivings Again?

I think I have an idea for a book. The problem is, creeping doubts are entering my brain again. I don’t know how I wrote as many books as I have given these doubts are my long-time companions. What if I’m subjecting the world to mediocre, or worse, bad writing? What if there’s a reason nobody is reading my books?

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I’m told these misgivings are part and parcel of being a writer. I doubt that people on the NYT Bestsellers List go through them.

I feel like I’m 62 and still haven’t found my niche. What if I’m not called to do writing? What if I’m not called to do anything?