Think Like an 8yr old.

I just wanted to share another possible plot twist that was generously offered by Matilda (miss 8yr old).

Matilda suggested I kill off the Detective when he is going to reveal the killer, and then all the suspects would have to try and solve it amongst themselves.

For the record, Matilda's NaNoWriMo plot is:
A magical dog and horse travel to our world from a mystical realm and they can talk. Two small toys are the key to the portal and they got seperated from them travelling here. They have a magic map which shows them where the toys are at all times and they journey to find them. It is a mystery who supplied them with the magic map. They must get home before the evil wizard takes over their land.
They find the toys and return to their land to fight the evil wizard and his dragon. The wizard is mad because he needs the toys for his plan and the dragon tells him they are still in the Earth world. He travels to our world, but it was a trick, the toys are safely in the magical world. The wizard can not get back without them. People find him and think he is weird and put him in a circus. It turns out the dragon was helping the animals all along and is the one who made the magical map.

All this, and all I have is a title???

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The Practice Novel

My title is expanding.

The Book Publisher's Wife

I've been contemplating various plots to turn this title into a mystery story (or any story) and at first I thought her husband could be killed off quite early, after all, it's not called 'The Book Publisher'. I just haven't got a motive or twist yet. Then it hit me. The title, the one that keeps haunting me, that's the twist. He's not dead.

After all, then it would be called 'The Book Publisher's Widow' and it isn't.

This might be a good 'practice' mystery novel for me because I have another mystery novel that I want to write (but I want to write well, so won't be racing through it for NaNoWriMo). I've never written a mystery - but like all things I try in life, I ask 'how hard can it be?' (then I find out).

I haven't decided to commit to this story for the NaNoWriMo challenge (look here to find out, sign up and buddy me). I may still go with the retelling of a classic or myth. I'm sure I will make the final decision when I arise on the 1st of November to begin.

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It's Coming!

The NaNoWriMo contest badges for 2009 are up!

You can be my writing buddy by going to my NaNoWriMo page here.

My tactics:  (from someone who has never entered before)

• Don't tackle anything that needs constant research, and if it does, skip that and fix it later (you can edit in December, you won't have time in November)

• Plan your plot - If I try to write constantly for 50,000 I'm likely to start with a family story and end up with space porn, but only after going through a period of postmodern zombie/military action. I need structure.

• 
  
  Don't start something you've been planning. Start something new that you are not yet attached to. Come December you can get crazy about your plot and characters, but you won't have time to dwell in November - there's writin' to do!
  

• 
  
  Tell everyone you're doing it. Put it on your blog (like so). It will make it a lot harder for you to drop out after 539 words.
  

• 
  
  Drag your friends and family into it or join a region group (you can do that on the site). If you have writing buddies you will urge each other on and help with plot barriers. I'm enticing my two daughters to do the young writers challenge - they pick their own word count.
  
  
  

What I love most about this challenge is that it is international and although there are would-be authors struggling over manuscripts every day, now I will actually feel part of that group knowing we are all busily typing at once. Join me... join me.. join me....

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New Look, Last Look

It took a lot of tweakin' but the blog has been updated, decorated, renovated, well totally re-vamped.

Hope you like the new look, I intend to keep it for a long, long time.

NaNoWriMo update:
Still deliberating over which ancient myth I want to retell, but another option is a title I've had for some time. That is, I've had a title and no story to go with it.
The title is:  The Book Publisher's Wife
Emily (Miss 11) thinks it sounds like a Mystery/Romance. She might be right. As long as the book publisher's wife is not in highschool and a vampire, I'll be happy.

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NaNoWriMo - Bring it on!

The fever has hit me!

Signed up for the NaNoWriMo 2009 contest. NaNoWriMo is held over the month of November each year and the idea is that you start and finish a 50,000 word novel (minimum) in that month. It seems fast paced and the emphasis is definately on quantity rather than quality, but oh the whimsical fun!

Now, this does not negate my intention to contract myself to finish my two novels, The Pirate Girl and Dog Show Detective between November and February, so I will have to NanoWriMo after hours.

I mentioned that this is a contest, but with a difference:
Who are you competing against? Yourself. If you beat the hurdles and excuses that prevent 50,000 words, then you win.
What do you win? Other than being listed as a NaNoWriMo 2009 Winner, you win 50,000 words of a first draft for your novel.
Considering I've never finished a whole first draft of a novel, this sounds like a good prize to me.

Where to start? I've signed up, if you'd like to join me, click on the link. Next step, I've got to plan my plot outline.

What should my story be? I've no intention of making it hard on myself, so will avoid historical fiction or anything that requires a great deal of research. I'm thinking of taking an old myth and recreating it in a different context.

What's your favourite myth or legend?

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Would You Pay You to Write?

The plan.

I said I would catch up on my wordcount when my teaching placement was over. It's over, but there are many uni assignments due. Once that is done I will have time to write.

Although, next week I'll be back at uni, so, when the Christmas holidays begin I will have lots of time to write.

However, there is the house renovations, the outdoor bar I want to build, a million quilts I should finish, a camping trip away with the kids, and, and, and...

Enough. If I put my writing down on my 'to do list' with equal weight to hobbies, socialising and housework, we all know it will never get done. I need to be employed as a writer and have a boss to keep an eye on me. And I will. My new job as a writer, completing two children's novels, begins Monday 2nd November.

I have plenty of time to prepare, get my research finished, have my plot outlines for each chapter ready. I'll need that. My new boss is strict and expects a good wordcount each day - otherwise I won't get paid. My new boss is not interested in my hobbies or my social life, my new boss figures I can do all that after hours.

It won't be too bad, I will have tea breaks and lunch - but only at the alloted times, my new boss will not have me wandering off for a cuppa as a way of avoiding work.

If you want to work for yourself, you have to be tough on your employee. Otherwise, negotiations, excuses and whinging replaces words on page. I'm going to employ myself to finish my novels over the break.

Do you employ yourself? Or do you write when you can find time? Already have a full time job? Maybe you can  employ yourself part-time, say three nights a week, or all day Saturday. Write like your job is on the line. Treat well meaning friends and family as you would if you were at work and they popped in to ask you to come shop with them, have a cuppa or wash their shirt.

I'm going to get as much background work done as I can before November, I will even get as many words down as possible. I want to suck up to my boss - I want to be her favorite employee.

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Turn it off

I could crawl inside and live in the Internet. There are free downloads, websites, programs and devices that you can use to enhance your writing abilities. If you want to write about an unfamiliar subject, you no longer have to spend months going from library to library, you can google all you need in a few hours.

I'm often heard gushing over podcast. I love it. It is like a gift from the techno gods. Radio programs annoy me, if I do find a channel that plays music I enjoy, it's usually interrupted by call-ins trying to guess the source of an obscure noise, or a lonely/bored soul that wants to talk about...everything. Podcast allows me to download exactly what I want to hear, and lately that's writing episodes.

The other day I drove to work and was out of podcasts on my iPod. Darn. I tried the radio but it just started to irritate - now people try to guess famous laughs - why? So I turned the radio off and faced an hour and a half drive with no noise. I talked to myself (I do and I'm happy to admit it), I thought about the stories I'm having trouble finding the time to write. I thought about my last chapter written. Then... I thought through the next chapter. I got it all sorted, details, visuals, motives. It was my most productive drive ever.

Tomorrow I head out to a farm to meet up with my Drama class who are on a camp. I will stay overnight and there are no phones, computers or iPods allowed. It is the longest I will ever go without technology. I was worried about how much work I have to do. But now I'm excited.

Lots of time with just me, a pen and a notebook - doin' it old school!

So embrace the devices that make your life easier, but remember that your fiction comes from your imagination; you don't need to plug that into anything. Turn everything else off - and you'll hear it.

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I Love Links

These are the writer's sites/resources I'm lovin' this week (no particular order):

• Ink-fever - Writer's blog, check out The 33 Worst Mistakes Writers Make About Dogs. Also has the link to Think Sideways course with a discount.
• How To Think Sideways - I'm in the process of completing this course and have found it to be detailed and motivating. Takes you through writing exercises and step by step process of getting the job done. Well priced compared to more expensive but shorter courses (for a further discount go to ink-fever's site above). I'm finally keeping up my word count with this one!
• Critique Circle - For writers. Upload your drafts for other writer's to critique for you, and critique other people's work. Great way of polishing your novel. Feel free to look for me on there, I'm 'Cmclancy'.
• Lulu - I've only just discovered this one, you can publish your book online, in e-book format or hard copy. Me thinks it very exciting! (if I ever finish a book).
• The Creative Penn - Writer's blog - free downloads on writing and promoting your book, also really good podcast.
• Plot Builder - Tool for organising your notes, chapters and characters. Discount offered at the moment if you follow them on Twitter.
• Twitter - If you still think it's about people telling you what they had for breakfast, then I just can't help you *shakes her head*. Best used with an application - I like Twhirl.

Happy scribbles!

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Ask the Experts

If you read my last blog post, you will know I was having problems with the word bitch. Writing a children's novel about a young girl who enters dog shows and solves mysteries, I wasn't sure how to refer to the female dogs in the novel.

Now, I hang around dog shows and have entered a few with my own Miniature Schnauzer (a boy), I also have two female dogs. We've used the bitch word casually at home and my own children know what it means and don't think anything of the word, or so I thought.

I asked writers. I asked editors and publishers. I asked twitter and facebook. I got a lot of responses with varying opinions on whether it was appropriate to use the word in my novel.

Even Emily (my 11yr old) said I should just use the word because it is the proper word to use. I thought, maybe. I did a draft and asked her to read it out loud. All went well until she got to that word. Seems she can accept the word, but can't say it. That was all I needed to know I should leave the word out. I should have asked an expert. I should have asked an 11yr old.

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One Bad Word

As an English teacher I have to believe words are good. We want children to read with them, we want them to express themselves verbally with them. We want kids to have a vocabulary that grows. Yet we all cringe when teens use the 'bad' words. I am one who does not want to decipher the student's speech by removing every foul word and stringing the few that are left together.

As a writer, I feel an obligation to my reader to use the correct language, to tell the truth. This is why The Pirate Girl went from being a little kid's picture book to developing into a teen novel. Where there are pirates there is death, and death is not pretty, funny or invisible. Death is ugly and I would be lying to the reader if I left it out.

Now my predicament. My current WIP, Dog Show Detective, is about an 11yr old girl who enters dog shows with her Miniature Schnauzer and manages to solve mysteries as well. All has been going well. Kitty's dog is a boy called Shakespeare. Kitty finds another sick dog who is also a boy. Now Kitty is entering her first show and it is highly unlikely that every dog in the show will be a 'dog', that is, there are sure to be female dogs.

What do I do? Do I just casually drop the word 'bitch' wherever appropriate (the boy lifted his bitch up onto the table for the judge), or do I just use the generic word 'dog' right through? My audience was 10yrs plus, but my 8yr old is enjoying the text enough that I think it may appeal to younger chapter readers. Why is this word a problem for me? Who first took this word from our shared vocabulary and turned it into a 'bad word'?

My gut tells me to leave it out, to use the word dog. This is a happy fun kid's story. But I still worry that I am not telling the truth.

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Life in a Teacup

The whistle reminded Dottie what she was supposed to be doing.

“Oh the kettle,” Dottie smoothed her floral apron and grabbed an old, but clean checked tea-towel to pick up the kettle handle.

“Here we go then,” Dottie poured boiling water over the tea in the good teapot with the roses on it. Dottie put the kettle back on the stove and it started to whistle again.
“Oh, I forgot to turn the stove top off again,” Dottie said as she turned off the gas flame.

Okay, what was she up to?

“Milk and sugar,” Dottie reminded herself. Today she also had a special ingredient for the teapot.

Dottie put the tea on the table, laid out with her best linen cloth and a vase of sweet peas from the garden, then added a plate of biscuits. They were store bought biscuits, the ones Dottie made earlier had burned because she forgot to set the timer to remind her to take them out.

“Sit down Dottie, stop fussing,” Elsie said, “I’m not the bloody Queen.”

“Oh, I must have mistaken you,” Dottie laughed as she sat down, “because you act so high and might.”

Dottie poured the tea, and as she did she remembered the secret ingredient she had included, then asked Elsie, “Milk?”

Elsie smiled and said, “You’ve been making me a cup of tea every week for over fifty years Dotti, yes milk and sugar”.

“I remembered the sugar, I already added it.”

“No you didn’t, silly, you’ve just poured the tea and added milk,” Dottie looked affectionately at her forgetful friend. The soft creased features of Dottie’s pale face did not conceal the pretty twenty year old woman that became Elsie’s best friend, despite all odds.

Dottie reached over and gently placed her hand on Elsie’s, “How are you feeling now hun? Did the doctor find a better medication for you?”

That was Dottie, couldn’t remember what she had done yesterday, or even five minutes ago, but always remembered when Elsie had a doctor’s appointment and how the latest lot of medications were affecting her. There was no one else. No children, no family and although decades ago she knew everyone in the street, so many people seem to come and go now, she only had Dottie.

“The last lot made my stomach hurt so much, so I guess these ones aren’t as bad, they do make me terribly dizzy though,” Elsie said.

“Those doctors today don’t know what they’re talking about, they should be able to give you something for the pain without making you feel sicker.”

“Well at least I won’t be taking them for much longer,” Elsie said.

“Why’s that?” Dottie asked, “Oh… you’re terrible Elsie, you shouldn’t joke about that.” But secretly Dottie knew Elsie’s pain would be over soon, sooner than even Elsie’s doctor could predict.

They ate their biscuits and talked about the people who used to live in town, they talked about the new people taking over the town.

Dottie worried; there was something she should tell Elsie, but what?

“Have you heard from Maree?” Elsie asked.

“I spoke to Maree, um, when was that? Well, Jack called at Christmas, gosh he must be twenty by now,” Dottie said.

“Mmm,” Elsie agreed, although she already knew that Dottie’s grandson was thirty-five and now had a child of his own. Elsie had monitored Dottie’s family since day one. She remembered not only when little Maree was born, almost here in the house because Morris had been away and Dottie hadn’t wanted to ask for help. Dottie had later admitted she thought Elsie didn’t like her. There weren’t many other houses around back then. Elsie had driven Dottie to the hospital just in time for Maree’s entrance.

When Morris had come back Maree was already two months old. Elsie had also been eagerly awaiting his return, but just like the first time he returned from being away, she was left disappointed.

Elsie had been an unusually beauty as a young woman and she fancied she would become an actress. Travel, she would definitely travel. When Morris proposed, she hated hurting him, she did love him, but she wanted more than Binalong had to offer. Elsie took off and headed for the city.

The laugh of it all was that she only lasted a couple of months and headed straight home. Too late. Morris had married a girl from Gunning and now they lived in the house next to Elsie and her father. Elsie despised Morris’ wife Dottie, she found her sickly sweet. But now here she was, fifty years later, loving Dottie more than any friend had loved another.

“Do you want me to drive you into to town tomorrow?”

“You shouldn’t drive at your age Elsie,” Dottie said, “Why town?”

“Your appointment,” Elsie reminded her.

“Oh.”

“I’ll pick you up in the morning?”

“For what?” Dottie asked.

“Your appointment!” Elsie insisted.

“What appointment?” Dottie asked.

“Oh Dottie, you’re a silly old thing, tomorrow is the first of the month, you always go to the doctors. Remember?” Elsie asked.

“Oh I’m not going anymore,” Dottie stated.

Elsie looked suspiciously at Dottie, her dementia wasn’t improving.

“Why don’t…” Elsie started.

“Oh I remember what I had to tell you!”

“What?”

“I just want to get something first,” Dottie said as she heaved herself out of the chair and stretched her legs before trying to set off on those wobbly knees. After a couple of minutes Dottie came back with a photo album that Elsie instantly recognised.

“I want to look at our pictures,” Dottie insisted as she carefully lowered her creaking bones back into her chair.

“Okay Dottie, lets look at the memories.”

They pulled their chairs together, the way they did when they were young women and they wanted to share a secret giggle. Dottie had a secret to share now, but not yet.

Many of the first pictures showed sepia image of a wild haired beauty and a pretty but timid woman, both with their arms flung happily around each other. Many other photos showed Dottie and baby Maree, some showed Elsie holding Maree, just as tenderly, just as lovingly as her mother did. The pictures of Morris. Morris standing between the two women holding Maree in his arms, he used to joke about being outnumbered by women. Morris, with his cheeky grin and strong arms. Dottie’s Morris in the pictures. But he had been Elsie’s.

When Elsie returned to find Morris married she had been determined to win him back. After all, he’d loved her first and he’d loved her best, she knew he did. Elsie went out of her way to make Dottie feel unwelcome and to make Morris want to get back into her arms. And she’d won. Temporarily.

The last time Morris left her sheets he promised he would send Dottie back to her parents and be Elsie’s again forever. Timing was not on their side. At dinner that night Dottie told Morris that she believed she might be pregnant. Morris didn’t know what to do. It was one thing to discard a wife, there would be enough backlash about that, but a child? He promised Elsie he would find a way to sort it out, he would go away for a while, there were jobs going up north cutting cane, and when he got back he would send Dottie away. Baby or no baby.

But while Morris was away in a sunnier state, Dottie would beg Elsie to keep her company, often inviting Elsie and her father over for dinner. Then Elsie’s father died. She felt so abandoned, so alone. Elsie’s misery went so deep she lay in bed and cried and cried. Dottie had been there, making cups of tea, wiping her eyes and even laying down beside her, holding her when she needed to be held.

When Elsie was feeling better she decided to pay Dottie a visit, to thank her for her kindness. If you’re going to steal someone’s husband it doesn’t mean you can’t be polite. It was not until after Dottie had made Elsie a cup of tea that Elsie noticed something was wrong. Dottie was in obvious pain. Finally she admitted her waters had broken, but she didn’t want to cause a fuss. That was Dottie. Elsie had run for her father’s truck and driven Dottie into the town hospital. She stayed and held Dottie’s hand even though the matron had wanted her to leave.

And there was Maree, little beautiful Maree. How could something so perfect come from such a horrific bloody ordeal? Elsie wasn’t the only one to fall in love with Maree, of course once Morris saw his little girl’s face he would never leave again.
Now Maree, her husband and children all lived in America and Morris had left them all one more time, he’d been gone twenty years and although Dottie often forgot her own birthday, she always remembered his and Elsie would give her a lift to the cemetery to visit him.

They closed the album. Both women had tears they were trying to deny on their cheeks.

“We were something weren’t we Dottie?”

“We sure were Elsie, no better friends existed,” Dottie replied.

“I know I won’t be around a lot longer Dottie and I’ll be sorry to leave you,” Elsie confessed, “but I have to admit I’m selfish. I’m glad I’m going before you Dottie, because I just couldn’t go through this whole dying thing without you.” There was no point pretending now, they were tears.

“I know Elsie. That’s what has worried me the most,” Dottie said, “everything’s leaving me Elsie, I forget where I am, what I’m doing. Sometime’s I forget Morris is gone, and then I remember and it hurts, it really hurts.”

“Oh Dottie…”

“I need to tell you this Elsie. I’m scared. Scared there will be nothing left of me, no one for me to forget or remember. I thought about this Elsie, I know I won’t be there for you when you need it if I wait. I … I won’t know you, when you need me most.” Dottie was now sharing her tears.

“Dottie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No it’s okay, I want to be there for you, and I want you there for me. That’s why I did it Elsie, I sorted it so that we can be together,” now Dottie was smiling through the tears.

“Dottie what do you mean? What did you do?”

“Poison.”

“Poison?” Elsie asked, now a little alarmed.

“It won’t be long now Elsie, I put it in our tea. We can go together and neither of us will be alone.” Dottie reached out and held Elsie’s hand.

“Dottie? What have you done?” Elsie pulled her hand away, “We’ve got to get to the hospital, how could you? You’ve finally gone crazy!” Elsie got up and headed for the door, she needed to get to her car.

Dottie stayed in her seat, head bowed, “I love you Elsie,” she said quietly as she heard the front door open and close.

Moments later Elsie was back and sat down silently next to Dottie. Maybe she was right. What was the point? They had lived almost their whole lives together, how could either of them go and leave the other. This was right. Elsie reached out and held Dottie’s hand, “I love you too, you silly old bag.”

They giggled.

They sat.

They waited.

Quite some time later, Elsie spoke up, “Dottie?”

“Yes?”

“You forgot to put the poison in didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Elsie smiled at Dottie, “Well, do you want another cuppa darl?”

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Long Thoughts on Short Stories

Hurray for deadlines!

Through the writing course, How to Think Sideways (see ink-fever for the link if you're interested, definitely recommended by me), I was this week required to come up with several inspirations for short stories. From those I had to pick three and let my muse suggest ideas. I was not allowed to practically structure the story or put demands on the story. I did however have to give myself a deadline and a word count. This was not my idea of fun.

In my previous post you will see the list I made of the story inspirations, some were ok, some were, well - what the heck would be the use of a time-travelling dog? Just flash from period to period barking at people?

My first choice was about the two old ladies. I sat myself down last night determined to just get a few more ideas for it. I was tired, and I'd forgotten that I work best when I'm tired. I guess I don't have the energy to hold down the muse.

The whole story flowed. I wrote for over an hour and ended up with a 2022 word story (my word count was 2000, so it was creepily close). Now it's a first draft and possibly rubbish, but I'm so proud that I did it!

Write when your tired, write when you really don't want to - you might be surprised at what comes out when you stop trying.

I'll edit the story in a couple of days and then post it here. Now my next assignment - The detective who solves a mystery before the client even leaves his office. Unless the client bought their butler with them, this could be tricky!

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Starting Something New

Sat down with my laptop to work on my writing course, which I've been using to progress my new children's novel Dog Show Detective which is now up to Chapter 3 (yipee for progress!). There was, as there always is in life, a spanner in the works (which being of an un-mechanical mind, I must assume is a bad thing). My course requests I start now on a short story.

Thoughts of cheating crossed my mind, just use one of the short stories I've written before. Then I could get on with my novel. But what would be the point? I may as well not do the course then. So here we go, I will thrash out a few ideas in here and build my story in Plot Builder (which I am much enjoying! See my previous post if you'd like to find out more about this program).

Step one of the process was to access my 'sweet spot map' which is lists of all the things I love, hate, am drawn to, fear, need, etc. This map is used for inspirational ideas. From this list I am to create several ideas or elements for short stories. I am not to push my structure onto these ideas because that will apparently get in the way of my muse - who is in charge of the creative.

Here goes:

• Extreme obsessive compulsive disorder sufferer is abducted.
• Time travelling dog.
• Detective solves crimes before clients even leave his office.
• Mother kills an intruder but does not call the police.
• Plane crash, outback, child, Indigenous family.
• Cup of tea, two old ladies, poison.
• Stage actor plans big gimmick to promote career.

Waiting now for muse to make up her mind.

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Writing in the Future Now.

I've been lured out of my whimsical era of the 40's & 50's (a time of bouncy personalities and dry detectives) into a futuristic world of... well, the future. I call it.. 2009!

My first attempts, drafts, dreams of writing, were all recorded in notebooks. Not just the sort of exercise books your kids use for school, but special, fabric covered, embossed, textile books that I would write in with a flashy ballpoint pen (and yes I've longed for my own Mont Blanc). Along with being dressed appropriately (see earlier blog), this would put me in the right frame of mind to open up and let the ideas and stories flow.

As I would have several notebooks on the go at any one time, and several stories (3 novel WIP at the moment), this became a bit confusing, and more than often I would loose whole sections of narrative, or write the same scene 3 times. Word processing seemed a natural solution. I find now I can create all the technical parts of my novel in Word documents, but I still need pen and paper for the really creative stuff. Once I've written on paper, I type it up in Word so that I have a saved document.

Lately I've taken an interest in writing software and started investigating. Some software promised to provide plot twists and ideas for your story if you just enter the relevant information. This does not appeal to me. I'd like to think I've written my story entirely on my own (of course unknowingly plagiarising from ever written text I've been exposed to). Besides, writer's block is not a problem for me, it's getting my mental 'idea generator' to shut up (or at least wean out the many really bad ideas). I was looking for software that would help me take all my notes, chapters, ideas and research and organise the information so that I could construct a novel from it.

I saw software that offered spreadsheets and tables, which only looked more confusing to me than my many separate notebooks. This may suit some, but I want my technology to look, well less 'techy'. I downloaded the free trial for Plot Builder and started entering my works. The program showed me where my gaps in information were and I thought it was great. My only concern was that there seemed to be no word count. It's probably 90% ego and 10% practicality, but I like to see my word count as I progress. So, I twittered Plot Builder. Turns out you can see your word count with just a couple clicks of the mouse. It was exactly what I needed and so I purchased the program before the free trial was even half-way up.

Why it suits me so well is that Plot Builder is a very visual tool that lets you see how your novel is constructing and because (and most importantly) it's simple. I don't need more things on my computer confusing me. End result - I like it, think it is good value and recommend the program to other would-be 'organised authors'.

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Getting in the mood

I've noticed something about myself lately. I'm weird. I'm also pretty sure that won't come as a surprise to anyone who knows me (or reads me, or hears of me, or just spots me from across the road).

I've been off from teaching at my prac school this week because I am infectious with the dreaded H1N1. The first part of my week was wasted on recovering from a bad reaction to Tamiflu. Once I was functional again (well as functional as I'm ever gonna be), I finished up making costumes for the school play. Then I continued my mission to disinfect everything and everyone in my home. Now I have some time to sit down and write.

I've been looking forward to this time for days, I planned my day and placed it proudly in my 'to do' list. So, after ticking off all the other chores (some school tasks, planning, uni, etc), I took a nice hot bath and got into my 'writing' outfit. What? you don't have a writing outfit?

Sure, when I am in my trackies I can scribble a few pages of vague ideas, and when I am dressed for work I can usually outline and plan chapters well. But a nice pair of casual jeans or cords and a linen shirt is my 'look' that I have always associated with writing, and it helps (see I'm doing it now). By undertaking this ritual, I get myself to a place where I feel like a writer, this increases my confidence in my own ability (yes, of course I'm a writer - for goodness sakes look at my outfit!).

If you are feeling slack and just not 'into' the words at the moment, try it. Use your imagination section of your noodle and picture in your mind what you think a writer might look like. Maybe you need fake glasses? A pipe? A cardigan? A pink Barbara Cartland suit? A Jane Austin dress (especially suitable if you're writing a period comedy romance, and you're a guy)? Maybe slip into something sexy to write a steamy scene.

'The clothes maketh the man', an old proverb with various assumed origins, speaks a truth. It's not that you are what you wear, but that you can decide to become the image you cloak yourself in, even if it is just for a little while.

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Paper Dolls

Sometimes when we take on courses on a topic we love (and think we already know) it isn't so much to learn something new, but rather to be reminded of something we already knew or that should be obvious.

In the course 'How to Think Sideways' on writing a novel (find a link at ink-fever), I am reminded of the importance of knowing your characters before writing their scenes. 'Well Duh', thinks I, only to be faced with my own shortcomings in this area.

I find I have thought through my main characters to the point of being able to predict their reaction in any given situation, but what of the surrounding characters? In the Dog Show Detective I've been satisfied with my building of my 11yr old girl, who upon embarking on Junior Handler dog show competitions also manages to solve mysteries, and I thought I had created her surrounding world well. Not so. I gave her a mother, a significant relationship with her mother, a father and a little brother - oh and of course a clever but naughty dog!

Curious about software for novel writing, I downloaded a trial for Plot Builder and started to play with it. I started with creating characters and managed to fill all sections easily for my heroine. Next I entered the mother. That was when I realised how little I knew about her. I knew her occupation, her family commitment, but by gosh, I didn't even know what she looked like! Another big shortcoming is that I had not thought through any negative aspects to her personality - and I'm pretty sure as part of the human race, we all have undesirable traits. Without that you are just dangling paper dolls around in the narrative and not people.

What have I learned from this? Don't assume you know what you think you know and writing software may be helpful after all.

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