Keep On Truckin'

I admit defeat: 1,000 words per day was an impossible goal for me. My job has become more demanding than ever, with my creative energy levels almost fully depleted by the evenings. (But that's another story.) So I've recalibrated to a much more sane 500 words per day. It sounds low when you compare it to, say, Stephen King's stated daily count of 2,000 words. However, King doesn't have a 9-5 with a 45-minute commute each way. I have about 4 hours by the time I get home from work till the time I need to be in bed, and in that time, I have to have dinner, do any necessary chores (dishes, laundry, vacuuming, bathing...), interact with my partner, and squeeze in any reading and/or writing I want to do.

I could probably write 1,000 words of crap, but I've already stated why I think that's a bad idea. In fact, I've also stated why I think it's a bad idea to work via word count at all. So why do I still have a daily word count at all (hypocrite!)? Why am I still keeping this chart?

1. I need the motivation. I need a goal, and I need to meet it. 
2. Words written are what show progress toward a goal; time spent does not. I need to SEE the progress.
3. It's pretty.

So maybe I was wrong before; maybe I was right but I'm not smart enough to heed my own advice. In any event, I still have a daily word count goal. And I'm finding that 500 words is perfect for me. I find that I can accomplish it even after a bad day at work, and that makes me feel satisfied and productive--key to keeping up a daily writing pace. I find that after a fairly calm day at work, I can accomplish twice my goal or more, and that makes me feel like the queen of the world. And it also means that when I have a particularly godawful shit day at work and can't do anything but pour myself a gin and tonic and stare at the wall, I don't lose much ground. 


So I'm making measurable, consistent progress, AND bonus: I feel good about myself. I'm about one-third through the book, and it's going to be exhausting as a marathon to get it done. Keeping myself feeling GOOD about myself and my writing each day, again and again, is the key to progress. Feeling accomplished without feeling overwhelmed is awesome. I know what burning out feels like. I don't, I can't burn myself out on the thing I love most in the world. 


The slope may be shallower, but the progress is still upward and onward. I'm aiming for publication by December 2012. Can I do it?

Progress

I'm behind, but mind the gap: the gap is closing.

I'm Not Sure This is Going to Remain a Reasonable Pace for Three Months

But I'll keep it up while I can.

Where in the World is Elly Zee?

See the last paragraph of this post. That's where I am. 11,000 words in and counting. I'm publicly announcing that a first draft will be done by end of August. Help keep me honest.

#amwriting

On the Productivity Problem

I took today off work specifically so I could spent today writing. I did not write a single word until just now, when I wrote, “I took today off work.”

I had a very productive day, as far as my heart, my soul, my mind, my body. I read the writing of David Foster Wallace for the first time (a fact I am both proud and ashamed to admit). I read more chapters of Walden(which has been so life-changing for me, I will not diminish it here with commentary; just read it, like now). I took a walk, practiced Tai Chi, gave myself a Qi Gong tapping massage, and ate no meat. I cleaned the apartment and sufficiently snuggled all three cats. I listened to a Radiolab podcast that made me cry my way through a sandwich and realize a level of therapeutic purging I did not know I needed. I did many things today that enriched me as a writer, and yet I did no writing.

I’m having a productivity problem. More specifically, I have a finishing problem. I feel like Sozi; I am Sozi. I have a million ideas, each one a seed, and I want to see that tree so badly that I plant them all in the ground, give them some water, see that first shoot of green, and marvel—but in moments I’ve found another seed.

I have this fancy notebook and this fancy pen, and I only write in the fancy notebook with the fancy pen, and I only write in the notebook fiction or fiction-related ideas. (Other creative types may recognize this affected ritual in which we find comfort.) It’s my ideas journal, sometimes drunken rambling diary, sometimes observation record, sometimes organizer and planner. But it’s all in the name of some present or future fiction. I flipped back through its pages today and realized I started it almost exactly a year ago, give or take 11 days. It’s filled just over halfway with seeds, saplings, and one full-grown tree. Notes for at least four novels are in there, and about the same number of short story sprouts.

I have to admit that I have three active novels in various states of undress, and I feel like I am doing everything in the world not to work on them. I have one novel that is, at this point, 95% done. But I want to work on it less than I want to do almost anything else in the world, including cleaning the litter boxes of aforementioned three cats. I really love everything about it, except I hate that I wrote it instead of something more “important.” I almost can’t work on it because it makes me feel this crippling self-doubt that I may never be the writer I want to be, and if I finish and publish this book I am somehow carving that in stone.

I have a second novel that is fully drafted as a novella, and merely needs to be extended in accordance with the fully detailed outline contained in my fancy notebook. Much of the work is done. But the story itself is extremely depressing and I find I cannot work on it without feeling that the sadness of the material will seep into the edges of my life and I may lose what sense of peace and happiness I’ve worked so hard to attain. I also worry that if I publish such a story I will be bringing sadness into a reader’s life, instead of hope and enlightenment. Again, I feel like it would make me dishonest in my most basic intentions as a writer.

The third novel in progress is the least far along. I have a full outline and a few fragments, but there are more than likely years of work left on it. Yet this is the one I can’t stop thinking about. I dream about it. Everything I read or watch on television or talk about over a beer seems directly relevant to the story I want to tell with this book. In my head it’s already done, and I am sometimes surprised when I notice only about 10 pages are written down. But every time I feel the urge to work on it, I mentally chastise myself for not working to finish the others that are so close, that I am procrastinating from my other work with this work out of some fucked up fear of success/fear of failure syndrome. . . . And so it becomes a cycle, and I work on nothing. 

Just last week I was telling a friend how I thought I was done with the short story form and at heart I am really a novelist and I ought to really just focus on novels. And instead of novelling, I just finished the first short story I’ve written in years. I also wrote a screenplay, for crying out loud. I don’t write screenplays. I’ve taken procrastination to a weird new extreme wherein it is actually making me productive at things I don’t think I want to do.

Perhaps I finally turned to the short story and the short screenplay because they were pieces I could finish. I kind of want to write another short story; I already have the idea. It’s in the fancy notebook. But, like something near the horizon, I sniff the pressure and doubt on the wind. If I write two short stories, I really ought to write eight more so that I can publish a full collection. And if it’s going to be a collection, there ought to be some thematic thread. Sure, these first two go together, but what if I can’t come up with any more that match? Why bother writing the second if I can’t write the third, fourth, fifth . . . ?

So you see the spiral. I believe it’s a product directly related to my acute awareness of the passing of time, and of my own mortality. It took me 15 years to put out my first book. I don’t have very many chunks of time that long left. I don’t actually think it will take me 15 years to finish my next book, but at this rate, who knows? Maybe it is the fear of success/fear of failure. Maybe it’s the sophomore slump to the wildly mediocre success of my freshman try.

I want to say I don’t know the solution. I want to whine some more, bitch and moan, and google “motivation for writers.” I want to blame. But I do know the solution. You can see it, a few paragraphs above. The story that I dream about? The story I wake up thinking about? That’s the story I need to write. I shouldn’t care that I only have 10 pages done. I can only write one word at a time. I just need to do that, every chance I get, until I’m done.

A friend recently asked me for some motivation advice. I wrote back something that may or may not have actually been helpful, but I am positive it reeked from the overconfidence of someone who never ever suffers writer's block--which, as you can see, is patently false. The advice I ultimately ended with was "Write now. Right now." I should take my own advice. And that’s why this post will end so suddenly.

Lucky 7 Blogfest

Rance Denton just tagged me over at The Action Prose for the Lucky 7 Blogfest. I'm so glad too, because, like Rance, I've been so busy writing, revising, marketing, and doing all sorts of authorly stuff, that SYEWW has been stalled. This is a great, fun excuse for a post. And the best part is that it doesn't take too much brain power, because writing, revising, marketing, and doing all sorts of authorly stuff doesn't leave you with much mental horsepower.

I have two simultaneous works in progress (to assuage my two different personalities, obviously), so I thought I'd treat you all to bits from both. The rules for Lucky 7 appear after the excerpts.

Excerpt from page 7 of Bugged:

Finally swallowing, he said, “You’re right. Not everything is different to everyone. Most sensation is linked to physiognomy. So barring some genetic anomaly, we basically see the same, smell the same, taste the same.” Swish, swish. “But of course, not you, Richard the Supertaster.” Sometimes he had to flatter Richard to make sure he was still listening.

“I can’t help it if I have access to thirty percent more taste buds than you.” Richard flicked his pink tongue out over his fat bottom lip. Ever the sucker for old fashioned flirtation.

“But there is so much about perception that isn’t actually linked to the physical sensory organs. Things that are linked to the intangible, emotions, gut feelings. You perceive fear, but that doesn’t always stem from physical stimuli. You can’t even always explain it. What scares you might be nothing to me, and vice versa.”

Excerpt from page 77 of [untitled] cozy mystery, to be mysteriously published under a mysterious pseudonym:

“Couldn’t he just be someone you know?” I ask. I take a sip of my drink and I actually like it. But it’s strong, really strong, and I promise myself not to have another. “I’m sorry. I mean, are you sure you want to talk about this?”

“Absolutely!” she says emphatically. “I confess I had ulterior motives to inviting you over. Sometimes, I just need to vent. And Maury’s pretty much put a gag order on me about the whole thing. He thinks media attention just fuels this guy. And Maury’s not the type of person you can sit down and have a heart-to-heart with.” She whispers confidentially, “I need a girl to talk to.”

Funny that both random excerpts are one-on-one dialog during the course of drinking alcohol. I hope I'm not becoming . . . samey. Seriously, though, these works couldn't be more different. Just a neat coincidence.

The way the Lucky 7 blogfest works is this: 1) If you’re tagged in a post by an author, you can choose to take part (which I hope you do!); 2) Go to page 7 or 77 of your current work-in-progress, go down to the 7th line, and post on your blog the next (approximately) seven lines! It’s as simple as that. 3) Remember not to cheat! Don’t pick a part you think will be engaging; don’t edit; just post it, show the raw, unedited truth of a writer’s first draft; and 4) Tag some of those writers you know would be wiling to show a bit of their creativity.

I'm tagging seven of my friends who write, and who I know--or hope--have a current WIP. I hope you'll respond on your blog or a Facebook note!

Kelly Leard
Jes Goodyear
Laura Bogart
Gavin St. Ours
Shauna Kelley
Jenna Morton-Aiken
Josh Munro

The Pumple Cake Experiment

My friends had a party this weekend. Not just any party, but a grand bacchanalia of food. It was the annual "This is Why You're Fat" party, a celebration of all things, buttered, battered, deep-fried, married with bacon.

This was my first year attending, and being the competitive person I am, I wanted to make a play for one of the prizes: "Best Meat Treat" or "Best Sweet Treat." This led me to the Pumple Cake (or "pake"). I can't take credit for inventing it, but I will take credit for my own unique spin on the recipe and the hours of difficult, risky work that went into baking it. My Pumple Cake was:

An apple pie inside a spice cake

A pumpkin pie inside an apple caramel cake

A middle layer of coconut-pecan frosting with candied bacon

All covered in cream cheese frosting

Every step of the way was a chance for disaster. Thankfully everything came together (albeit a little lopsided), and the results were decadent and delicious. I took home second place "Sweet Treat." The prize was a gallon of Mrs. Butterworth.

With its wonderful combination of spicy autumn flavors, and its consummate over-the-topness, this dish would be perfect for Thanksgiving--if you can find the 5.5 hours of oven time it takes.

Here's the process:

Since the Pumple is labor intensive by itself--as well as a huge gamble--I went for pre-made ingredients. The pies were Marie Calendar frozen pies. The cakes were Duncan Hines Spice Cake and Apple Caramel Cake. I doctored the cake mixes by adding half a box of instant butterscotch pudding mix to each, and subbing in buttermilk for the water.

I used Betty Crocker coconut-pecan frosting and Pillsbury cream cheese frosting. Neither of these was very good. They had that chemical-y, preservative-y, crappy bake sale taste. I think the single thing I could have done to make the Pumple even better would have been to make the cream cheese icing from scratch. Next time...

Rounding out the ingredient list were the maple bacon, brown sugar, and bourbon for the candied bacon middle layer. Sure, this was indulgent and unnecessary, incongruous even, but for "TIWYF," bacon is almost a prerequisite.

I baked the pies the night before, so that they would have a chance to cool completely overnight for easier de-tinning. The pies each took about an hour and the aroma in our apartment just about made me insane.

The next morning, I jumped in with making the cakes. Mixing the first cake batter proved to be the easiest part of a long, hard road.

I'm not much of a baker, so I had to buy a new cake pan just for this project. My friend recommended Calaphon, and I sprung for the springform. I figured, the less I had to handle the cakes, the better. I think the pan made the process a lot less complicated than it could have been.

After buttering and flouring the cake pan, the next step is to put a layer of batter on the bottom of the pan. With the addition of the pudding mix, the spice cake batter was really thick, so it more like putty than batter. It was a good foundation for the very heavy apple pie.

The Marie Callender apple pie was almost too big to fit in the cake pan. Getting it into the pan was really tricky and seriously got my adrenaline pumping. But with a quick, brave flip, it splatted into the pan and fit with a sliver to spare. The other half of the batter gets spread over the top and sides of the pie.

Baking the "pake" was another big challenge. The box cake mix said it would take about 35 minutes. But 35 minutes in, it was clear this cake was not going to be done anytime soon. An hour in, the edges were getting awfully dark and I was afraid they would burn, but the middle was still gooey. I know others have ruined their pakes with overbaking. But I did some quick research and discovered the trick: I covered the top of the cake with foil, lowered the temp to 300, then let it bake away until it was done. It took almost 2 hours, but it didn't burn.

The springform pan allowed for easy removal. I don't think I could have gotten the cake out any other way. It weighed about 5 pounds, and I was worried the weight of the pie would make it fall through the bottom. But thankfully I could remove the outer ring and slide it onto the cooling rack. In the picture below, you can see the pie crust peeking out through the side of the cake.

While the apple pake was cooling in the fridge, I moved onto the pumpkin. The pie was smaller, lighter, and more structurally sound, so it was far easier over all.

After the pumpkin pake was done and cooling, I moved onto candying the bacon for the middle. I par-fried the bacon, then put it on a parchment-covered baking pan. I mixed a teaspoon of maple flavoring with a couple tablespoons of bourbon, and sprinkled it on each piece. Then I covered each piece with brown sugar. I baked then in a 400-degree oven for 10 minutes a side. they got a little dark, so I'd probably bring it down to 8 minutes a side next time.

This stuff was GOOD. I highly recommend it, pumple or not.

Between the layers, we spread the coconut-pecan frosting and added the bacon bits. I had been leery of the bacon and went back and forth and adding it. But in the end, I'm glad I did. The smokey sweet flavor was a perfect counter-note to the sweetness, spice, and caramel in the rest of the dessert.

Getting the pumpkin layer onto the apple layer was another anxiety-inducing moment.

We frosted the outside of the cake with cream cheese frosting, then decorated the top with a dollop of coconut-pecan frosting, candy pumpkins, a sliced gala apple, and a square of candied bacon.

I added it up: The final Pumple Cake has over 13,000 calories. And every bite was worth it.

Become a Patron

There are centuries of history behind patronage of the arts, with the most detailed recorded history of it occurring from the Medieval to the Renaissance periods. Shakespeare, Da Vinci, and Mozart all benefitted from the assistance of sponsors in the creation of their art.

As it was then, however, patronage now is concentrated in small, powerful, elitist centers—mostly corporations, government, and educational institutions. Whenever control over decisions is concentrated, the art output is purposely or inadvertently homogenized, with a bent towards return-on-investment. This does not bode well for the independent artist, from whose mind commercialization is often far away.

Those arts which can be reproduced, packaged, and commoditized—namely, books and music—are extremely susceptible to death by lack of perceived commercial appeal. Large upfront costs for said packaging and reproduction, combined with the paradox of economies of scale, make independence in these media cost prohibitive for the so-called “starving artist.”

But thanks to the power of the internet, social networking, and (dare I use the term) crowdsourcing, the decision-making power can be spread across the masses and the risk/reward model changes. The risk for the patron is diluted to almost nothing. The reward for the artist is that she foregoes being a (financial, intellectual, creative) debtor and remains the artist, with requisite artistic control.

Over the summer, I will be finalizing my first novel, Secernere, preparing it for print. In autumn 2011, I will be opening a Kickstarter campaign to fund the publication of Secernere, and will be soliciting patronage to help defray the costs related to professional proofreading, printing, and shipping & handling costs. In return, my patrons will receive a variety of rewards, including autographed copies of Secernere, original artwork from the book design, handmade bookmarks, and special acknowledgments in the book.

For a nominal cost—what one might pay for two Frappacinos, or a hardcover of Twilight, or a blu-ray disc—the patron can now directly contribute to the creation and distribution of a new work. Once, the publisher would put out tens of thousands of dollars in what was essentially a gamble, expecting, no, hoping for that return on investment. Now, the investment is small, and the expected return is not financial; it is creative, intellectual, soulful. The patron is not commercial consumer, but a part of the creation myth.

Watch here for more information as we move toward the Kickstarter campaign. If you want to contribute early, please feel free. Your name will be recorded for a reward once they have been determined.

Christmas Presents in Production

Infusing vodkas. More details after Christmas, so I don't spoil anyone's surprise...

Well, Hello There

Boy, when I said "off for a while" I didn't exactly mean 8 months. But I'll tell you, it has been a MEAN 8 months. I've been extremely busy at my Clark Kent job, i.e. Proposal Manager Extraordinaire. So busy, in fact, that I become accredited by the Association of Proposal Management Professionals and had my first speaking engagement as such a professional, delivering tips on how to make your proposal more compelling through using Win Themes.

I'll bet you had no idea that I'm, like, an actual corporate professional with credentials and stuff. My proposals do not have two-heads.

So what else? I finally got off my butt and finished my novel, using NaNoWriMo as an excuse. I was about 25k away from finishing the draft, and wrote those words during the first 2 weeks of NaNoWriMo. Then VOILA! I had a complete draft. Holy $#!+!. It's the first and only full-length novel I've ever completed, ever written the words "the end" for. Even though I can really now call myself a writer, I don't have words to describe the feeling of that accomplishment. I'll save that for another post.

I am currently 75% completed with revisions and polishing. I have a completed synopsis and a query letter, which has been submitted as chum for the Query Shark. I will shortly be commencing the full-blow, ego-crushing foray into the Agent Submission Process, and guess where I'll keep you up to date?

Right here, where I write here.

I Drew a Bunch of Pictures Last Night

I have this concept. I'm not ready to talk about it yet. But here are some concept drawings. We'll see where it goes...

Work in Progress: Crock and Allie!

I'm hoping to get these darlings finished and in the store before I leave for Ireland in a week. A week!!

Needlefelting 101

My first video! The first of many, I hope. I had a superfun time making this.

This is an introduction to needlefelting--how and why it works, what you can do with it, and a brief demonstration of how to do it. Enjoy!

Progress on the WIP

I'm still working on the Big Bad Wolf, and I just ordered new wool in case I run low. I've been watching The Prisoner with Chris, sewing and needling beside him on the couch. His cat is obsessed with the wool I'm using and takes every opportunity to bat at the pieces or steal them if he can.

I started with a wire armature skeleton: spine, ribs, and pelvis all attached together. The head is polymer clay and wool felted right onto the armature. I used a reclaimed wool sweater to cover the skeleton, like skin, and I stuffed it with polyfill guts. I'll now be able to felt directly into the wool "skin."

I've wet felted all four legs, and added the claws to the back paws. Last night I sewed the back legs onto the pelvis and added an additional armature to keep them stable and spread at the right width. I may walk down to Beadazzled this evening to pick up a few glass beads for the eyes.

More progress later...

Under the Painting is the Underpainting

I began the underpainting last night. I admit to not concentrating on it fully (I was tired and distracted, but still wanted to get started), so it's pretty flawed even at this stage. But it's still a start. BOY, did I miss painting. It is such a good feeling to start up again.

I worked this in acrylic, but the overpainting will be in water-mixable oil paint. I am running low on several key colors (white, phthalo blue, and burnt umber, especially, since I use those colors almost exclusively in making grays, blacks, and other neutrals), so I'll have to do some shopping before I start the overpainting.

I'm still trying to decide whether to attend the life drawing session tonight, or to focus my efforts on my painting. I probably won't have another opportunity to work on it till Monday, and I don't know if I want to wait that long. Decisions, decisions...