Slugs and Other Things.

So I've been sitting around since I have pneumonia an I'm supposed to be doing a good impression of a slug so I won't do too much and sabotage a recovery. The problem is I don't think slugs live very interesting lives. Now maybe I'm jumping to conclusions. Maybe slugs have a whole wild private side I don't know about. If they do I apologize. I don't want any offended slugs making comments here, but from what I see they just kind of creep along in an ooze of slime and eat things I wish they didn't. I'm not privy to the secret life of slugs and I'm no expert. All I'm saying here is that impersonating a slug is boring. That's my disclaimer so if there are any irate slugs out there please keep your opinions to yourself.

In an effort to entertain myself I've been on facebook, pinterest, goodreads, and all kinds of other websites and basically boring myself more than I already was. I tried TV yesterday, but let's face it, I'm not a big movie/TV fan. So in total desperation I've turned to posting on my blog. Yes, you've wondered what it takes for that to happen. Now you know.

I'm going to backtrack to after goodreads and before my boredom induced urge to blog. I gave up on the internet and turned to the books I've written. I thought maybe there would be some revising I could do or something. I opened up the first one I wrote and I realized there really does come a point at which I've done everything I can possibly do. My skills only reach so far and in this first effort the only way to write the book better would be to write a different book. I guess that's why I wrote the second book and am working on the third. There are things that improve with each effort but there are times when I feel the limitations of my writing ability. To be more specific, I don't know how my books are supposed to entertain anyone when they are boring me.

Perhaps, just perhaps writing isn't something I should do when I'm bored.

Can Romance Lend Itself to an Epiphany?

I had an epiphany today. I was editing my second novel, which is a romance that is taking on more and more chick lit overtones the more I revise it, and I wondered once again, why everything I write turns into a romance novel? I don't even like romance novels! And this particular novel, like the first one I wrote started as a mystery!

But as I'm revising I'm doing my best to keep everything light and fun. My goal is to create a temporary escape for the reader not to write the next great American novel. So what genre lends itself best to that? Romance! It all makes sense now. If I want it light and I avoid heavy stuff what's left? Romance! A revelation!

Why do I not like romance novels? They tend to be cheesey, the writing itself isn't usually very good and there's too much - well- romance. So I try to lighten up on all that, focus a bit more on the heroine's character, her day to day life and the significant relationships she has, and what I end up with is romance with heavy chick lit overtones or chick lit with romantic overtones - I'm not sure which - but it sure is what I write. In the industry it would be called Chick Lit/Romance.

I guess I don't mind so much now that I understand it. I may not like romance, but I do tend to like chick lit. I know I'm not supposed to say that because it shows a want of intellectual prowess, but let's face it, I don't particularly care how intellectual I look.

The Lesser Known of the Bronte's.

I'd never read a book by Anne Bronte before. I'd read 'Jane Eyre' by Charlotte Bronte and 'Wuthering Heights' by Emily Bronte. I adored 'Jane Eyre' and detested 'Wuthering Heights' and Anne Bronte got ignored.

I have no real complaint about the writing in 'Wuthering Heights mind you, I just thought it was depressing. Even people who love the book would never call it optimistic.

Jane Eyre, on the other hand, is more optimistic. There's a glowing ending in which everyone is happy and well. Some people don't think endings like that are valid but I love it when a book ends that way. All kinds of horrible garbage can happen in the middle of the book, but as long as it ends well I enjoy it. I know there are purists out there gasping at that but that's just the way it is!

Having said all that I decided it was high time to give Anne Bronte a try. I chose to read 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.' I liked it. 

And here's the thing this book did for me. It made me profoundly grateful for my husband! And not just a little at that. I'm sorry to say it, but not only is he far superior to the horrible men in the book, but he's better than the good ones too!

It really makes me wonder what kind of nasty men were in Anne Bronte's life that even her good men aren't that great. We all know the Bronte sisters had a wild brother and we don't have to wonder where the example of the less than savory characters came from. But what about the better ones? Wasn't there any exemplary men in her life that would have helped with that?

  I guess it struck me because if it hadn't been for Richard I might be thinking the same thing. I might not have known how good men can be.

Anyway, I've been thinking about how an author's life experience effects their writing. Anne Bronte wrote 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall' deliberately with a moral in mind knowing it would effect the quality of the finished product, but quality was secondary to her primary goal. It was worth it to her to sacrifice her art to make a point.

For this reason she is considered a sub-standard writer and most experts agree that she is only remembered today for being a Bronte sister. They feel if it weren't for that she would have been long forgotten.

This may well be true, but if she made me feel this good about my husband in 2012 with a book she published in 1848 perhaps her writing is more effective than they are giving her credit for!

Rap Song

I'm on a roll and I've written a new rap song. For those of you who visit my site and appreciate the family friendly nature of it I've carefully edited the song for bad language and content.

**********

**** you and me ****** ***** ***

I believe ***** when **** we *** **** and ***

**** ****** *** ** ******** ***** 

Then ***** red ***** but **** and ***

** * **** ***** ** *** ***** ** ****

Chorus

**** *** ******* ***** ******

******* **** **** *****

** **** ****** ** ******

**** ***** *** ** ****

Purple ***** ** ***** in agony

*** *** pain ***** *** ****** her

I ******** *** ***** *** in ****

**** **** ****** *** ** **** *****

She ***** **** ******* ** * ***** 

Chorus

**** by the ******* into ********

you and **** ******* **** *****

***** in ******** and ****** **

smile ***** **** *** ***** up and 

if you ***** **** ** * **** *****

Chorus

An Amazing Country Song - sure to be a hit.

Yes folks, just what you were waiting for with baited breath. My last song attempt was so amazingly well written I've decided to broaden my horizons. And now... unveiling... a new country song... and only written in a couple minutes! Astounding, I know!

 It's all gone

I woke up this evening,

disturbed in my sleep. 

A smell wafted

on the cool midnight breeze.

I thought it might be smoggy   

but the air was acrid and near.

I ran for the yard like a hunted deer.   

The old homestead had stood for

about a hundred years

But the flames that reached higher than the roof

confirmed all my fears.

It had stood so long but no more.

Cause now it’s gone. Ohhhhhh it’s all gone.  

Chorus:

Ohhh you think you may have it all. 

But don’t take it for granted. 

You never know when it will disappear. 

Before you know it, it’ll up and go

and you’ll say like me – now it’s gone. 

Yes, it’s all gone.

I got in the car to

warn my neighbors

but when I backed up

I ran over my cats.

The smoke had spooked em

and there they all were

All nineteen there were huddled

like pitiful bats.  

The poor little darlings

had sought protection.

But in this world

things are so uncertain.

Their shelter had become their tomb

and now they’re gone. Ohhhhhh. They’re all gone.

Chorus

My Grandaddy’s car was old.

It ran on moonshine

Once it was daddy’s

but now it’s mine.

It was a green car.

Ahead of its years.

It was so reliable

we called it super gears.

But after running over nineteen cats

it couldn’t be in this world long.

Seventy years from its creation

and now it’s gone. Ohhhhh It’s all gone.

Chorus

I called my girlfriend.

She’d give me a lift

and help my unlucky fortune

to come to an end.

She looked me over.

My cat gut shoes

Smoke covered clothes and

no cool car to boot.

I’ve had better days I know it’s true.

She up and left me after three whole years.

You’d think she’d have stayed,

but now she’s gone. Ohhhhh. She’s all gone.

Chorus

I had a good life.

I was carefree.

There was the old homestead,

my grandaddy’s car,

cats, and my girlfriend

but now woe is me.

I wanted nothing else from life

that’s all I needed.

But now it’s all gone. Ohhhhhh. It’s all gone. 

Chorus

thankyouthankyouverymuch

Fuzzy Kittens and Rainbows

There' s a heavy metal song I heard bits of on the radio as my son flipped through channels the other day that illustrates just what's so amusing about the genre.

The guitars are squealing and the singers are screaming an almost incoherent lyric. Almost incoherent. It doesn't take me long to realize they are screeching about someone they love and how they are like a rainbow in the dark. A rainbow in the dark? That's sounds really... pretty.

So, in the spirit of things I thought I'd write a heavy metal song myself. You'll have to imagine the wailing of the guitars and the throat numbing squalling yourself as you read the lyric.

Kittens, bounding kittens, happy kittens. 

By your wondrous, sparkling eyes, wet nose, 

and cute little tails I am forever smitten.

Is there anything more ethereal than a kitten?
(Raucous multiple guitar solo here.)

Kittens, loving kittens, fluffy kittens.

Playful and joyful I fill my arms with your love. 

When I'm down my spirits you will nudge.

My heart swells, my heart sways,

my heart breaks at your pulchritude-iness ways.
(Lead singer breaks into agonized, incomprehensible caterwauling here.)

Kittens, rolling kittens, gamboling kittens.

Brown and yellow, black or grey,

The softness of your fur I could touch all day. 

Kittens, fuzzing kittens, purring kittens.

Sweetness and light. Sweetness and love.
(Deafening crescendo of crashing guitars and the last death breaths of all singers.)

You're like a star from up above.

Kittens, beautiful kittens, lovely kittens.

Little mewing member of the cat family.

You will always be a kitten to me. 

Maybe next week I'll write a country-western song...

The Treachery of Books

Books - those pesky word filled mind defying chameleons.

I enjoy reading. I enjoy having opinions about what I read. I enjoy posting my opinions about what I read on Goodreads.  I like archiving what I've read and what I thought of it in a neat orderly fashion.

On my currently reading bookshelf has been a book that I haven't been able to finish. Why? I lost it. I've looked everywhere for it. I've called all over town for it. I'd finally resigned myself to my fate. I'd left it at a doctor's office. A nice little surprise for someone who didn't have the foresight to bring their own reading material and finds a bonus sitting unassumingly next to them. Inside the book there is no name no address, nothing to identify it's owner. So some patient weary with waiting takes the treasure home and leaves me to wonder at its loss. This, I was sure, was what had happened to my absent reading material.

In the meantime I'm at home tearing my house apart. Cleaning out closets, dismantling beds searching to find what very likely was no longer in my house.

I've been updating the status of this book on Goodreads. Finally, in resignation, I updated my status one last time today. I said that I have to borrow the book from the library, or buy it again. Oh, the agony! Rebuying a book I already had! Borrowing a book that was once mine! I finish my post, and sigh. Slowly I get up. I turn. I look at the book shelves that stand in a row in my family room. I decide to give it one last look. I've looked through the books on the shelf so many times. I know it isn't there, but I look anyway.

There it is. In the corner, on the bottom shelf. Hiding. Concealing itself. Camouflaged from notice. Innocently looking like a book amongst many books. Apparently it wasn't too anxious to be read or it would not have so cleverly disguised itself like that.

Some well meaning person had evidently found it lying around the house somewhere and attempted to put it away. The audacity! How dare they! Putting things away like that!

And not with the other Biographies and memoirs where it was supposed to be, but right next to the pop up books!!! Now how is a person supposed to find a biography among pop up books? Not only that but there was a religious book installed next to it! How is a person supposed to function in this disorder?? Taking a closer look at the shelves I see the problem is running rampant. There are self help books in the novels and song books in with the comics. How can one endure???


Obviously the possibility that I have too many books cannot be true. The blame cannot lie in the innocent habit of collecting, hording and cataloguing them. Clearly the fault is with the person who touched my books! TOUCHED my BOOKS!!!!

My book was lying there, obviously being read, it had a book mark in it! It was being currently and actively read!! Is there no sanctimony in the home? Is there no peace to be had in one's own dwelling? Why must one be subjected to nefarious acts of BOOK TOUCHING?????? How can I finish a book when it isn't left where I had placed it?

Oh! Pity me!

Fun definition for literary fiction.

I came accross this post a long time ago when I was researching genre definitions. Now if anyone says the words 'literary fiction' I giggle. I can't say them myself without a smile. I suppose that might be an indicator of where I'm at on the cultural thermometer?

The original is from this website http://www.likesbooks.com/262.html by Robin Uncaphor. It's really hilarious, and I hope you'll forgive me for how blunt it gets here and there. Here it is in her own words:

... is there really no formula for writing literary fiction? Well, ah yes…Everybody who reads literary fiction knows there are rules, but nobody has the nerve to acknowledge them. I don’t know about you, but the next time someone tells me that there is no formula for writing literary fiction, I am going to ask them how much of it they have read lately!

I love all kinds of books, including modern literature. But COME’ON!!!! No formula? When is the last time anyone read a literary fiction book with a truly happy ending? Can you read ten literary fiction books in a row and not fall into one focused on some kind of abuse? When was the last time you read a literary fiction book by an African American author that, outside of the race and culture of the characters, had nothing whatsoever to do with race?

Never one to shirk my duty to point out that the emperor might need a sweater made of actual cloth I decided it was time somebody wrote down what everyone who reads modern fiction already knows…the Guidelines for Writing Literary Fiction...written the way literary publishers would write them if they were being honest. (Note to new literary fiction authors: as in all genres some talented writers break a few guidelines (William Styron, Tom Wolf, John Irving) but virtually no one breaks all of them.)

• If possible the book should be written by a man and have a male voice, a white male voice. Women and minorities will be published but with the exception of a few designated hitters, they will not be eligible for the big prizes and kudos. If the narrator is African American she should sound like one and, if possible, write something historical. Writing about slavery is good but anything set prior to 1950 is okay. For example, an AA female writer who wishes to write a book about a female black lawyer in Boston involved in a major civil suit, should make sure the suit has something to do with being African American. Otherwise, she should forget about literary fiction and write romance or Chick Lit. If a female author is white she should write the way John Updike would write if he were a woman.
• Lead characters must have a fair amount of angst but should be largely unaware of their impotence in solving their problems. They should be out of touch with their feelings, except for anger and boredom. Anger is really good. Pages and pages of ranting by crazy male characters are a real sign of literary achievement so don’t hold back (see The Terrorist by John Updike)!
• Relations between people, including children and parents, husbands and wives, neighbors etc. should be fairly sterile. Characters may be depressed. They should have difficulty communicating emotion. They should keep secrets from one another and live lives of quiet desperation (as Thoreau would say). Problems between parents and adult children should remain largely unresolved as everyone but Dr. Phil knows they are unsolvable.
• Whenever possible the writer should interrupt the action with pointless observations about some aspect of the minutia of modern life.
• Personal problems that would be shocking to most readers should be described in matter-of-fact terms. A sexual predator, for example, should be described in such a way that the reader knows that the writer is not judging him. Victims of predators must be permanently scarred. If there has been violence, such as a murder, it should be graphically described in a detached but nauseating way. (For an example of a sexual predator who fits well into this genre see Sabbath’s Theater by Phillip Roth. Winner of the National Book Award.)
• Characters should generally be well educated but, if they are not, they should be from rural communities, especially those in the South. Southerners should be quoted in dialect whenever possible, especially if they are poor and white and when the book is told in the first person (see The New Yorker fiction).
• If characters reveal their political beliefs they should be fundamentally liberal unless they are evil and selfish. Evil selfish characters are urged to look fondly back to the Reagan years, or, if they are British, the Thatcher years (see The New Yorker).
• Coming of age stories are especially welcome particularly when the narrator has suffered terrible abuse—sexual is good, an addicted parent works but so does verbal abuse (see Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison).
• A nice touch is adding a ghost or some kind of inexplicable thinking on the part of a character so that the reader is not completely sure of what is going on. This is very literary and few readers are willing to admit it when they are confused (see Beloved by Toni Morrison and Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel).
• Midlife crisis is another good one, especially if the character is male and living in Westchester or Connecticut (see Roth and Updike) .
• Adultery should be described as a kind of rite of passage and the author should not make judgment calls, unless the adulterer is a woman.
• The male protagonist may commit as much adultery as necessary to make him feel isolated and pointless. His partner, a single female many years his junior, should be lonely, emotional, demanding and ungrateful for her lucky shot at having sex with a miserable, married, middle-aged man who lives in the suburbs.
• The novel should not have a plot. The lead character(s) should have vague problems which evolve slowly throughout the novel. There is no need to solve these problems.
• If your character falls in love, it should be clear to the reader that he or she is probably being mislead by some character flaw, loneliness or personal problem stemming from childhood. A married middle aged man is probably having a crisis—not falling in love. In fact, the reader should not be able to determine why the character loves this person whom he says he loves. This way the end of the relationship, which will come at the conclusion, will be more logical than the pairing itself.
• In literary historical novels with male protagonists, a nice touch is to have the handsome, otherwise admirable male lead fall in love with a twelve or thirteen year old girl (see The March by E.L Doctrow).
• If the characters are of age, single and truly love each other, kill one of them (see Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier).
• If the book ends with a wedding, it should preferably be to someone the lead character was not in love with during the story and the character should not be deliriously happy (see Girl with Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier) .
• The book’s ending is critical. If the story is a real love story one of the lead characters must either die, go back to his spouse or break off the relationship to “find himself/herself.” If the book is very depressing and contains a group of characters who are completely unable to handle their lives, and have no insight into their problems—a multiple murder by a major character who has, up until this point, appeared to be a good person, is an excellent ending. Make sure it is revolting and shocking (see The Book of Ruth by Jane Hamilton).
• An easy to read compelling style is discouraged. Writers are urged to consider passive voice, verbs of being and long sentences (see The Corrections by Jonathan Franz).
• On completing the book, the reader should have a satisfied feeling of accomplishment. There are a number of reasons for this, not the least of which is value. He or she will be able to say he enjoyed the book, but will probably not be able to explain why without reading a review. He or she can feel fully satisfied in recommending it to a book club.

Final draft of rejection letter.

One of these days I'll get serious about this blog. It was suggested that I post my final draft of the rejection letter to Jane Austen. So here it is. The final is tweaked a bit and a little funner to read.

Dear Ms. Austen,

 

Thank you for submitting your manuscript for Pride and Prejudice however we are currently seeking Gothic Romance novels at this time. Unfortunately our reading public is not interested in predictable novels and I'm not sure what made you think writing about everyday life was a good idea. Since I live it everyday myself I definitely do not want to read about it too.

 

There was a problem with the premise as well. The idea of a penniless woman marrying a man of substantial income is most unlikely. You may want to rethink a device of this kind in writing any future novels. Your efforts may be rewarded if you employ generous amounts of suspense, sex and blood in your subsequent endeavors.

 

Feel free however to have a great sense of accomplishment over completing a novel. It's great practice and writing is not an objectionable pursuit of elegant ladies as long as they keep it secret and use a pseudonym, preferably male.

 

Sincerely,

The Editor