no more conferences, etc. on writing ... I mean it this time

For a long time, I wrote substantially without really 'knowing' (whatever that means) what I was doing.

Then I thought I'd become more professional ... all of the joy went out and was replaced by self-doubt ... kind of like a kid who loves to make mud pies and then giving them America's Test Kitchen's recipe for the perfect mud pie ... no more pies wind up getting made.

I have spent time worrying if I am a plotter or a pantser (do I make an outline or do I let the characters drive things) ... am I showing too much or telling too much?  just how boring am I, really? (very but that's not the point of this).

The other night I forced myself back to the keyboard and let a couple of favorite characters 'talk' to me ... and then I sent it to a couple of friends ... 200 words, no more.  Then I thought about it ... and I expanded it.

I put meat on the bone.  I am the opposite of the butcher who takes something big and makes it smaller ... and I don't necessarily know if I am going to wind up with a fillet mignon or New York strip ...

It isn't exactly an outline ... and daily I add to the beginning of what I have started ... I bounce ideas from those who are near and dear ... and who love a couple of specific characters to see if I am in character ... THEN I let things move, ebb and flow ...

I am not an expert and I don't play one on TV (or anywhere else anyone is likely to be) ... but I do know what works for me ... and I am invoking WWII's Winston Churchill - Keep Calm and Carry On ... ok - it is a paraphrase but you know what I mean.

Release Day Is Here for Speaking of Love

Last weekend, I had a chance to go to a writers seminar in Phoenix.  The keynote speaker asked how many of us had always wanted to be writers?

I couldn't say it was true for me.  I was one of very few in the audience who hadn't felt the pull from kindergarten.  I stumbled into writing a couple of years ago, but I've always loved a good story.

In grade school I wanted to be a fairy godmother and a storyteller - and in that order.  That was about the size of it.  Give the kid a wand and an audience and I would have been content for life.  

Did  you know there are precious few training programs or jobs available for fairy godmothers?

Until recently, there were just a scant few story telling programs.  My advantage was the stories told to me, almost exclusively, on summer vacation.  My sisters and I pestered aunts, uncles and grandparents to explain people in the pictures and the stories behind them.  There were stories about horse drawn buggies that were driven in the snow by my great grandfather if he was needed to deliver babies.  There were others about watering holes and who swam there a couple of generations prior.  Then there were the stories about relationships and love.  

A year ago, I combined stories from my grandmothers and aunts, twisted them and wrote "How Did You Know?"  It was accepted by Bright Light Multimedia for their current anthology:  Speaking of Love.  It was officially released today.

I'm still looking for someone to make a real, working magic wand.  While I wait, I think I'll continue to twist a few tales.