Snowy Days and Facebook

Snow on the brain has limited my ambition to write anything new on the Chronicles. Instead it seems to fuel my need to hibernate. Some long ago ancestors in Scotland more than likely hunkered down in their smoky peat-heated cottages for the duration, going outside only when absolutely necessary. I know the feeling. Phil and Sam seem to be hibernating at the moment, although I'm trying to set a new story in snowy Portland. Murder at Legends...and there's a rare but heavy snowfall turning the streets impassable and the Pearl into a ghost town. Make use of what you have, right?
Still. I've been doodling about Facebook as well. I do play a game or two but mostly just check statuses of those I know...and obviously I "know" a lot of people :o) The little sidebar that says "People You May Know" is one of those examples of Six Degrees of Separation aka The Kevin Bacon Game. Because I have certain friends who are writers, I also could 'know' people like Lee Child, Tess Gerritsen, Harlen Coben, S.J. Rozan, and so on and so on. Now, I admit to meeting these excellent writers at a conference or workshop, but 'know' them? Do I 'friend'them? Don't have the courage. When it comes to celebrities, in the world of books or otherwise, I am a shy person...I admire from afar. I never expect someone famous to remember me, am shocked if they do, and not surprised when they don't. Still, it is interesting to see who appears on that Facebook list. Should I ever breach the barrier that leads to being published, I may take the plunge, but for now...
Back to the Carstairs...I'm still trying to ramp up tension between Phil and Sam...although I find it hard to make it natural, at least in the first chapter. Sam talked Phil into doing the job at the Bombay, so how can he be anti-Filli at this point? A few chapters later, perhaps, but in the opening scene? Back to the drawing board.

Snow Day

Woke up this morning to a blanket of white on the lawn...and the street. We're supposed to get from 3-5 inches today, which makes it a perfect day to stay in and write, read, bake, and (oh dear) take stock of my closet. My general rule of thumb is...not worn for two years, off it goes. Goodwill, Salvation Army, the local shelter, whoever needs it. I obviously don't. Of course, there are those sentimental "have to keeps". The dresses I wore to my daughter's rehearsal dinner and wedding, my own wedding dress (even though I doubt I could get into it) and a few 'comfort clothes'...those tops or bottoms that let me totally relax and feel cozy. Old sweatshirts are my favorites. It's like wearing a hug, especially if someone special gifted me with it. An old Penn State Nitanny Lion, a burgundy "Snow Somewhere Else"...both from my good friend Diane. A "Books, Cats, Life is Good" oversized one I gifted myself :o)...old and soft. So I may tackle that closet this afternoon, just to rediscover what I have that can stay...or go.

Phil has his own closet. Walk-in, plenty of hangars and shelves for the various tricks of his trade. Evening dress, tuxedos, favorite pieces from his stage days in The Big Apple, and an oversized steamer trunk. It was the last thing he packed before leaving New York for Portland and contains memories as well as cordless headsets and old CDs and DVDs. Most importantly, it has his personal photo album. Something he hasn't shared with anyone, not even Sam. Phil only opens it when he can't find something he needs anywhere else. Along with the good memories, it also contains things he can't throw away but doesn't want to see.

Sam;'s closet? Organized, just like Sam's life used to be...when his wife took care of the details. Her death hit him hard, although he keeps the details close to his heart. Her clothes are in the bureau...he can't bring himself to donate them anywhere. They were married six months before she died...and strangely, his attempt to keep the closet orderly is a way to honor her memory. Corny, but true. Sam stows his memories inside her hope chest.

We all have closets of one kind or another...emotional, physical, even spiritual. Sometimes it helps to get in and clean them out...or at least appreciate what we have stored there.

Just a ramble

I loved fairy tales when I was a kid. Still do, even though I know that the underlying meanings are not always as nice as the story itself. Think about it. If you stop to consider The Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen, there are some really nasty morality tales hidden in their works. To me the main caution is "Be good or be eaten" or "Be careful what you wish for, because you might not want what you get". There are modern fairy tales out there as well, although in a lot of cases they masquerade as horror/thriller stories. And the good guy doesn't always win.
I like it when the good guys win, which is why I have Phil and Sam around. Sam may have to put up with Phil's meddling, but the meddling usually helps solve the case. And Phil never wants to let his twin down, so he always tries to help. Sam's partner Frank? Well, he's the foil for these two, sometimes with more common sense than either wants to give him credit for, and always with a way of seeing past the fog.
Two more chapters re-worked...and some major questions to deal with in the last few. Still, it's good to be writing again.

45 Minutes

Today's task was a review of Chapter 39...hopefully the final pass. Phil and Sam are definitely at odds...and the killer has struck again. Nothing like a little conflict at 9AM :o) My problem is how to create tension between Sam and his stubborn little brother way back in the beginning. I could just picture my own little sister...who by the way can push every button I have and enjoy doing it. I know because she told me that very thing. But Phil and Sam are twins...and twins are usually on the same track, right? Plus, it was Sam's idea that Phil become "Filli"...and not his fault that "Filli" became the hottest thing in Portland. And even though they work in two different worlds...well maybe that's the rub. Sam's a cop...Phil a performer...and Phil wants to help. After all, the killer is invading his turf, not Sam's. And then there's Phil's secret.
Stay tuned...

New Year, New Resolution

Thanks to the wonderful women at Jungle Red for giving me a kick in the proverbial pants...contest or no contest, Phil and his latest nemesis, Ruby Cabernet, have been languishing while I try and cut, paste, and generally re-work Crossdressed. And so has this little blog. Revisions make me cranky. I always feel like I've done my best the first time out, especially since I tend to edit as I go. So, to have anyone tell me I need to 'reword this, cut that, make this more clear' is a shock. My daughter is my first reader and pulls no punches. I was fortunate to have Ramona DeFelice Long do my first complete edit...she is amazing and gave me some good direction. Still, my ego always gets bruised. Poor poor me, right? I know it has to be done if I want Phil and his alter ego Filli to ever see the light of day...or nook...or print. Doesn't make it any easier. (Do I hear violins?)
So, since I have today set aside for the Bears-Seahawks games, I set to work tomorrow to get some major work done...one page at a time. Or rather, 45 minutes at a time. Stick with me, OK?

Time Off

Once I sent the materials in to MWW I decided to take a day or two off...bad mistake. Got absolutely nothing done and of course could kick myself for it. I'm not a reluctant writer but I do get distracted by projec ts like keeping the house relatively clutter-free (and I'm not doing too well at that either) and getting clothes ready for donations and myself ready for work. Add to that the scenario of me needing a nap and I think what I truly have is a case of writer's anxiety. The back of my already cluttered mind keeps working overtime on the ideas of having to pitch to an agent and get a coherent query going. And, to be honest, the days between May 19th and July 19th are not my favorites. Weather aside, and we have had weather,. I lost my dad on May 19th,2005 , my mom (long ago)June 1st, and my best friend on July 19th,2005. This weekend I got news that another close friend had left this planet. Coincidence or not, both she and my best friend died from lung cancer, both died before I could really say good-bye, and both died the day before my feel better presents of books arrived. So, I'm allowing myself to mourn...again. And, I hate the moving and sorting and packaging and shredding of the stuff I have to move, sort, package and shred. So, for today (as I did yesterday), I choose escapism in the form of Lee Childs' Jack Reacher. Tomorrow is another day...and one I will use to its fullest. That I promise me!

Randomness

I sent off the materials to Midwest Writers Workshop yesterday. In the hands of the faculty now I suppose. At any rate, I still have a pitch to craft and a query letter to re-edit for the agent pitch. Not exciting stuff but not easy either. I write stories better than I craft queries and such. I wonder if other writers feel the same way. Time will tell I guess. That and some talks with other aspiring and published authors in 6 weeks. This is a challenge for me in more ways than one...a writers' only conference, driving to an unfamiliar place, hoping my work is good enough to at least merit comments and good critiques. My daughter, wise for her years, tells me this is a growth experience...I want to say, Why in the heck did it take so long?!?
On other matters(I said this was random, remember?), I've just finished the most amazing two books by Suzanne Collins, Hunger Games and Chasing Fire. Amazing because they're written for older kids and young adults but riveting...as riveting as a good thriller, because the writing is fantastic! Collins cuts no corners here and expects her audience to pay attention. There are plots, subplots, and intriguing characters as well as a gutsy heroine who makes choices even an adult would cringe at having to consider. The third in the seires, Mockingjay, comes out this August and I will be there...as eager to read the further adventures of Katniss Everdeen as I am to read the latest risktaking of Jack Reacher.
Add to that the exellence of Andrew Gross in his latest thriller Reckless. Terrorists attacking the US through use and misuse of major banks? Almost too real these days and therefore disturbing and a page turner.
See why I fight for time to write? I'm almost too engrossed in learning from some of the best by reading their works.
Off the my 'day job' now, and a local production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile later.
More randoms thoughts on most of this later. Happy Thursday!