Conjuring

It’s very hard to switch from the dog world back to the writing world. Conjuring love out of thin air takes a lot more concentration than having real kisses delivered straight from a loving, furry mouth.  

Even though I’m going to force myself to get back to work today, time for gratuitous belly-rubs will always be made.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe  

Pen & Curb

A ton of work to be done today. Writing work.

I’m going to try my best to stay out of the gutters today, but I might end up in my parents’ dead limb pile at the street. It’s all relative, I suppose.

Besides, my sister is heading back home today so all is good.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The "Fruits of Labor" Dodge

In lieu of fussy words, here’s three snapshots of the fruits of my (and mostly my mother’s) labors this steamy June week. (In other words, all creative juices have sweated out of my ears and this is all that’s left… so sorry.)

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Primordial

Back to the grind today.

Query letters this morning.

Machete to backyard at noon.

Shower and wire brush to body around 2.

New novel exploits until catastrophic physical collapse and messy mental ungluing by 10.

It’s good to be home.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Post-note: Seriously, it is indeed good to be back home, but my yard didn’t need to go quite so primeval on me.

A Lone Sentence Adrift

Holding patterns are rather torturous concoctions for writers. Despite our propensity towards patience, being relegated to circling the publishing airport is, frankly, hair-pulling agony.

AARGH!!

Pardon the exaggeration. I know of course there are far worse trials for an author to endure. I’m just frustrated and pining a wee-little bit. I do so want to crawl back under the covers with The Hushing 

Days and finished what we’ve spent months and months starting.

Oh well. Enough of the mope. There is some work I can do.

When “circling airports,” I often challenge myself to come up with killer opening lines.  Oh, there doesn’t have to be any story attached. No genre is even required. I simply like to build in my head first-liners that would bowl both publisher and reader over with originality, fire or jaw-dropping beauty.

I’ve come up with some humdingers over the years. I’ve even had a short story published in a literary magazine that started out as nothing but a lone sentence adrift in the skies.

So, soldier on, my friends. Even when your creative circumstances are less than ideal, there is still work to be done…

Just keep reminding me of that, please.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

An Opening Agenda

Well, hello there.

*offers hand politely…*

*reconsiders professional restraint and goes for a big, messy hug instead* 

Hope you all have been both well-read and well-written this past week. I have accomplished neither as I threw myself wholeheartedly into the family thing. (Despite the latent guilt, it was loads of fun not being a writer for a wee itty bit.)

Playtime is over, however. It is back to work. Back to blogging. Back to Chapter Five. Back to 18^th century romance. Back to muskets and petticoats and “Pray pardon”s and “Fare thee well”s. Back to…

*four-legged, furry muse bops me unkindly on the head; the “Really?” is unspoken*

Well, you get the picture.

Game plan of the day is simple… Write.

When I’m done writing a little, write a lot.

When I’m done writing a lot, write one paragraph more.

Simple, right?

*four-legged, furry muse laughs hysterically, rolls off the couch and laughs some more*

I’m leaving now.

There’s a too-full-of-herself dog who needs a stern talking-to.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Move It!

After a day of recovery (i.e. not doing a darn thing), I am ready to jump back into the literary fracas!

Shoving, yanking, heaving, tugging, cajoling, pleading, bulldozing are all on the table today as I try to flip “The Hushing Days’” First Draft into a Second Draft and ultimately into Final Edits.

As I’ve stated before, I’m viewing each of the 20 chapters as huge boulders that need to be “maneuvered” somehow across that Final Edits finish line a mere one foot away.

So far, Chapters Six, Eight and Seventeen have been shoved, yanked, heaved, tugged, cajoled, pled with and bulldozed several inches closer to that end line.

I’d like to get two more chapters moving today.

My muse, however, is shoving, yanking, heaving, tugging and pleading for another day of recovery (i.e. not doing a darn thing).

We’ll see who wins but I’m laying bets on the party without four furry feet.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Post Note: If the dog figures out how to use a bulldozer, I’m out of here. Just saying.