Well, I have of late been fascinated with socks. The sillier, or cuter, the better. Stripes. Polkadots. Fuzzy. But it’s too hot to wear them. Outside. Here in the balmy coastal Carolinas, I am mostly barefoot or in my flip-flops. But in the house, it is chilly. I am in fleece pants right now. And they are cozy.

My tootsies are exposed but if it were any colder in here, I would don some whimsical stockings. At any rate, I like to be comfortable. But not just in outerwear. I need to also have peace of mind. I can’t write if there is any discomfort: physically, mentally, emotionally, et cetera. And with two busy kids, the comfort level varies.

And my time frame for writing alters. Son keeps himself occupied, but daughter seems to be more needy of my time. And I adore spending time with her, but it seems I can’t even turn around sometimes without her being right.there. *sigh*

What do you do to find comfort for writing?

What kind of lover of history or historical romance author would I be if I didn’t recognize this weekend’s reverent meaning? Not a very astute one.

But I found this video about Yankee Doodle on youtube and wanted to share it. It’s more than just a cute kids’ song.

And, of course, I found it quite appropriate for a lover of all things Colonial.

But what does that have to do with romance? Only that I love our country. And that while love, passion, and romance can happen anywhere, this is where I choose to place the setting.

Enjoy

I think about traveling through time. A lot. Not sure why, really. Other than the fact that I love history. See, I’d not want to go to the future because I think there are infinite possible futures.

But to the past. To see the eras I love to learn about first hand. And every once in a while, in the middle of my day, unbidden, I think, ‘How would I do this then?,” or “What would it be like there?”

But just as quickly, my rational mind tells me the negatives. I don’t mean lack of phones or internet or medicine. I mean, I am so blind, that I could not function then. My glasses would look so foreign there, and God forbid, how would I manage if they broke? Or if I lost my contacts.

And I am pretty fond of hygiene. I probably should learn more about herbs so I can treat myself.

I just get cascades of concepts such as those. And I almost grieve that I can’t go. My inner fantasy seeker whines, “It’s not fair!”

NO fair, no fair.

It’s pretty silly, I suppose, to feel cheated that I can’t time travel because of a little think like a diopter of almost -12 in each eye. Or that I like to smell halfway decent and keep germs at bay.

Nevermind that it’s only possible in fiction.

Shoot, if they can put all this speed and apps into a phone, why the heck can’t I go and meet John Adams personally, eh?

What would you miss? Can’t say electronics. Sorry. My post, my rules. It’s just too easy a pick.

For what it’s worth, I don’t believe that we only have 9 days until the Rapture. But without getting too far into a theological debate, let’s entertain the idea that we do, in fact, only have one week, two day until the beginning of the end.

If any of my author friends have set their goals by this year’s end, you better speed it up. Getting published now is hard enough, but the demand for HEA when the disciples are off of this planet surely will plummet. Or maybe not. For those Left Behind, looking for an escape and at least a “Happily for Now” might be quite desired. That is, of course, unless there will be massive book burnings.

Not unlike the film The Book of Eli, post-apocalyptic Earth will be scouring the barren regions for sustenance. For the physical, it will be water and food, lest ye becometh a heathen cannibal. But for the soul, it will be fonts of words. Knowledge in black and white. Fiction and fantasy or truth and guidance.

Will our ever loved regencies and historicals, contemporary and YA sagas make it into this aftermath? Is your fallout shelter bookshelf stocked with soul and mind nourishing data? Will the fantasy of today find no appeal in the survivalists’ reality.

Yeah, we should live today as if it were our last, but dadgoneit! That’s a lot of pressure to put on me to write; as if I weren’t hard enough on myself already, now I not only have to finish in less than half a month, but edit and submit and edit again. How do you market a book in such a short time?

I think the aftermath will revert to oral traditions and mythology. It seemed to have worked for the Greeks.
Ooh! If I can come up with a strange and ingenious display of cartographs, I can leave a lasting extraterrestrial inspired code on the walls of my home. The next inhabitants of this green planet can wonder at the Royals tribe and what did it all mean?

Any thoughts? I’ll be in my backyard, digging.

And for a visual interpretation of the above post, here is my wordle for it. Enjoy.

I’ve had such a stressful day. Really quite depressing. But in the grand scheme of things, it is thoroughly survivable. Unpleasant, sure. Will it kill me? Not today. Have I learned something? Too soon to tell.

But I got to come home to a wonderful home. A happy family. The best part of my day is greeting my kids and spouse and being squeezed and climbed on. And that’s just the spouse. Only kidding.

The thing is, I know a better day is around the bend. I’m not just saying that out of some Pollyanna belief that the sun will come out tomorrow. Yet, while I do wear rose-colored glasses at times, I tend to be a realist, lately. That is, no matter how much I believe that good will come out of something, I can’t just sit still and await its arrival.

Yeah the sun is gonna rise. But that’s a given. What’s ailin’ ya ain’t gonna stop if you just sit there and do nothing. I whole heartedly believe in the best is yet to come and many of the feel-good clichés that are out there. But no fortune cookie’s gonna dictate my life.

Let’s say you’re in a miserable situation. A bad date, a relationship, an environment like work, school or whatever. It’s not going to improve just because you will it. And I’m no Jedi. *you will want to read my blog* So get up and do something about it. Word to the wise and not-so-wise: it might take a long time.

Case-in-point: I’ve been looking for a solution to this maddening misery for 8 months. But it’s finally going to end. It will come to fruition in no sooner than four weeks. Unfortunately, the agent of this dread has the power to make that change later rather than sooner. I am trying to tell myself that if I’d managed to maintain this insanity for 19 months already, what’s one more?

Well, I know it will happen. But waiting for it and continuing this…this…I don’t even know what to call it–is not as great as I’d like it to be. At least I can get out alive.

And know that the sun, indeed, will come out, tomorrow.

Remember in a previous post I spoke about drawing? I really am not good at it on the computer, and on paper, it’s passable, but I’m no DaVinci. Shoot, I’m not even Brosh
Well, here’s my attempt to illustrate a post in which I wrote about not forgetting.

Not horrible. It gets the message across. But not really as amusing as others. Oh well. I’ll stick to writing. Or at least thinking about writing.

There’s a blog I’ve recently found which has a huge following. It’s good writing. It’s funny, it’s entertaining. It’s younger than mine.

I was discouraged.

But, I’m not down for the count. I figured there is something that that author is doing that I’m not. And she, at first, wasn’t even selling things. (Not a novelist.)

I’d love to hear your input. Of course, in the back of my head is a warning to be careful what you wish for. Be kind, but be honest…

edit: And please, If you picked OTHER, comment what the OTHER is. Thank you.

Polling ends Wednesday evening at 5pm EDT

I have this title saved in my drafts section of this blog. I do that sometimes when I want to remember to write this spectacular and brilliant piece. I figure that the witty title will stimulate that part of my brain from whence greatness comes. It’s like the string tied around your finger. You look at the string. Scratch your head. Glare at the string, begging it telepathically to emit its secret to you. What was I supposed to remember? Think, brain, THINK.

I can’t remember what I was going to write, at. all. But I do know that I was inspired to write again by reading Hyperbole and a Half. Allie Brosh communicates in a way that I totally get. My viewers *do blogs have viewers*, nay, readers, know that I am very ADD. But reading her rambling insight renewed my belief in myself. It centered for me the fact that most creative people have some affliction, and with ADD I can focus on almost nothing for long, but on lots of things all the time. If I do it successfully, then I can say I am a multitasker…

Ok. I didn’t doubt that I want to write or indeed that I am an author. But it sparked that fire that had been turned a little low.

But now I’ve run out of ideas. This post has been open for over 24 hours begging for me to write it. So, I’ll make a list, and see how long it gets, on what actually is the Write of the Navigator.

1. Quite literally, it could be a map. That doesn’t sound like much fun unless the it is a treasure map. And crap, as if that were the magic string, I think I remembered the point of the title…. shoot. I thought the list would at least get to 7. I’ll get to that later then, but cause I really want to make this list….

2. It’s the tenet of The Navigator. Said in the totally multisyllabic exaggeration connoted in my head. NaveegayTOR. Emphasis on Tor. Not Ter, but Tor. His tenets include, but are not limited to, exploring the vast universe that exists only on the web. He can direct you to any blog about nothing. The ones that are really about something or have meaningful content other than amusement or entertainment are boring to him. Or her. Or it. Gender is not certain for The Navigator.

3. It’s a typo or a pun. It’s supposed to say Flight. Of course. Do you think I’m a moron?

4. It’s an insightful secret that is known only to me, except I don’t know it yet because it’s that profound. Profundity is a magnificent thing. It’s like when I was in the fourth grade and was reading that book by L’Engle and understoon 4th dimension for a mere nanosecond and at that nanosecond I felt like the genius of all geniuses, but then *poof* it was gone. And to further mess with your head, this tesseract is an example of 4th dimension. Have fun.

5. Or it’s another typo/pun, nay, homophone, that shoulda said Rite. or Right. If it’s a Rite, it certainly is that of The NavigaTOR. But if it’s a Right, it falls to all who would be a navigator. Like the right of way. And if I were clever or talented with drawing at all, I would illustrate each of these. I did try, with the ribbon on the finger thing. I even tried to insert it, but it poofed. I could NOT find it. But if I do later, I’ll come back and edit this post.

6. It’s really hard coming up with different things that the title could mean. I read it and think, “That’s kind of clever, but I don’t get it.” So if I don’t get it, how am I supposed to make it make sense to you? It’s a confounding title that aggravates me now.

7. Could I even leave the e off of Write and make it Writ? It sounds more like the Tenet thing. The Mission Statement of the Navigator. He/She/It could have one. Who knows. It would be something totally plebeian yet because of that, appeals to the commoners in a visceral way. (And yes, I know plebeian means common, so I’m probably a bit redundant there.)

Now, I did make it to seven and that was exhausting. Back to your irregularly scheduled post…

As I alluded above, I did have a lightbulb moment in which I sorta remembered what this title was supposed to mean. It had to do with maps.

And with writing.

There are different kinds of authors out there. Some who can begin the story at the beginning and go forward in a useful and logical manner until ‘The End.’ This is called doing by the seat of your pants, or ‘Pantsing.’ I like for it to be in order because it allows my suspension of disbelief to take me where my characters go. And they like to have their own way. Really are bossy buggers. But some authors plot. And there are varying degrees to plotting. No method is wrong. But I would seriously doubt my sanity if I even ventured to try the Snowflake method. I am entirely too ADD to stick to it long enough to even make part of a flake. (again, insert illustration here, If I could draw.) I would get to the part of drawing to where it looks like the Star of David and go off reading Wikipedia about Judaism or Kabbala. And then I’d go around wearing a red string on my wrist because I want to be a good person, but although I believe in Christ, I’d want to practice faith as he did. See. I can’t even talk about the snowflake method cohesively.

The way I write is somewhere in between. (in case you hadn’t noticed.) I lack both the attention span and the discipline to write straight through because even though the story always starts at the beginning, I’ll have random moments where scenes pop in my head, usually when I’m in the shower or about to go to sleep. At which point I wish I had a waterproof pen and pad or could write in the dark blindly. (which I mean literally. Without my contacts or glasses, I can’t even read the big E at the top of the chart, when my nose is touching said chart.) Could you imagine me trying to transcribe my wet and/or blind scribbles? It just wouldn’t work. So these random scenes are always like an epiphany. Sometimes, a mental writing road block is opened and I miraculously can move the story forward, except that theres a gap between it and what I’ve already written. But since I ‘loosely plotted’ in my head, it kind of fits.

I’m not a fan of plotting, because, as I’ve said, it’s hard for me to accomplish with any flair. (Haha, now I’m thinking of Office Space!) The last time I tried to plot, I made a horrible synopsis and hated the story. Then I got depressed because that was NOT what I wanted to happen in the story. Then mad at myself for not knowing where I wanted the story to go. I wanted to write organically. Whatever that means.

How is this related to a map you ask? Well, let me tell you. Just as there are more than one way to skin a cat, or to get from point A to point B, there is more than one way to write right. There is no right way. Do what works best for you. YOU are your own NavigaTOR of your story, and indeed of your life. So make your flight what you wish it to be. You can set your own Tenets and Mission Statement and you own your own methods of madness, or Rites, and as such, they are yours (Rights.)

I’m rather impressed with myself for how handily I tied that together. It’s amazing how the ADD mind works. It can really make no sense at all but in the end, it really did.

Several months ago I had a conversation–can a twitter dialog be considered a conversation?–with a delightful editor who was taking her child to see a movie. I had plans to see the same film and was excited for her.
“Oh, we’re going to see that this weekend…don’t give away any spoilers!” She obliged, and with a wink and a smile said, “It’s a kids’ film, usually a happy ending. ” she’s
Well, she is right. Those type of movies are the feel-good, everyone wins. But it’s more. There’s the journey. That’s what has parents buying the DVDs and the kids–in some cases, the parents too–watching the flicks over and over. This journey is the woven tale that allows us the willing suspension of disbelief to fall in love with the heroes and to despise–or pity–the villains.
The same can be said of romance novels. We all know the guy gets the girl. It is pretty formulaic. But I have read countless novels, many more than once. I love being swept up in the moment and pondering how the main characters will overcome this or that and arrive at the ‘Happily Every After.’
As a writer, I strive to create that environment so that I provide just such a journey. So travel with Willem and Constance soon (hopefully by years’ end.) You too can be on the battlefields of South Carolina as they wage their war for independence and for love.