Tag Archives: Writing Group

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program. . . .

31 Oct

For news!

I have entered the published world!

Click click click!

My review.  On the store’s website.  My review.  Somewhere that isn’t here.

That is amazingly badass.

AND!?  I was chatting with a customer, this afternoon, about writing books (she was buying Bird By Bird and I commented on it being a great book, which lead to a conversation about writing books) which lead to a conversation about writing wherein she asked me if I wrote.  I said yes and she invited me to join the writing group she was starting up!  I said yes!  I think I’ll work hard, this time, and make the writing group thing work, this time!

Life is good, peeps.  Life is good!

Bon Jovi – Wanted Dead Or Alive

UNT.

I’m a material girl.

25 May

There was a story, by Gaiman, in the collection Fragile Things called Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire. (There are no insignificant titles.) Long story (well, short story, actually, but who’s keeping score?) short: it’s an answer to escapism critique. About a fellah who lives in a fantastic realm, who tires of writing realism and so turns to fantasy. Except in his world a tale of whimsy turns to the kitchen of a lofty suburban home.

It just goes to show where imagination can lead, if you let it.

Of course it also makes me want to live in an imaginary world. A fairy tale, perhaps. Interesting thought, though, isn’t it? That a fairy tale can be mundane, and burned toast is exciting and different and entirely noteworthy.

So what, when you’re only slightly blocked and mostly just unsure of what idea to choose to expand upon, do you pick? Do you write what you know in terms of what you’ve read (fantasy/faerie) or in terms of what you’ve lived? Mudanity or whimsy?

(This is ridiculously incoherent. I’m completely out of practise, and I apologize. Life’s been . . . interesting.)

In other news: I quit the writing group. I’m really not ready for that, right now. Or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself right now. I feel both inadequate when I compare myself (my first problem) with the other members, and I tire of having one man’s work placed upon a pedestal as the example of what short fiction should be. So, I’ll go it alone. I figure it’ll work, as long as I can remember to actually sit down and write. We’ll see. As long as someone remembers to pester me once or twice a month, I should be fine.

Ron White. He’s amazing.

UNT.

S’more.

21 Mar

News, that is. Of course now I’m left wishing I had a smore or twelve. At 7:54am. Decadent breakfast.

So. It’s been over a week. I have much news.

First of all, the writing group. Oh the writing group. Phenomenal people, all. There are five members aside from myself. I’m the youngest member by, oh, a good ten years. Buuuut . . . that’s okay! They’re a very welcoming group of people. It’s kind of neat, actually; they all know each other from elsewhere, and have for a while now. That made me nervous, initially, but it seems to have worked out in my favour. See, they’re all very comfortable with each other, it made just sitting there seem very natural. Not like I’d been friends with them for years, but that there was no need to feel awkward. Perhaps that’s just the kind of people they are, maybe I’m just getting more comfortable in social settings. Who knows? All I can say is: I’m glad I joined.

Second, and related, we were given an assignment. The first thing they had written, that I missed out on, was “My First Bicycle” or something to that extent. I haven’t been able to read anything that had been written, but I figure that’s all for the best. It might have made me more nervous so write for them if I had. Out of my league-kind-of-feeling and all. As it was, in the middle of this week, my favourite of the regulars in that group came into the store and started chatting me up about the writing assignment – which, by the b’ye as I forgot to mention, was “Leaving.” His question: So . . . what have you done? Read: what have you published, thus far? I stood there, aghast. An announcement at the first meeting I’d attended was that one of the women in said group had just been called up by some big-wig in NYC in regards to a screenplay she’d written. One of the other fellows has written novels (though, I’m not sure they’ve been published anywhere). I had to wonder, at that point, what I’d gotten myself into. Heh, luckily “oh. Uhm. Nothing, actually.” was an acceptable answer. Fate smiled upon me.

The writing is the part that surprised me, actually. I’d spent the better part of the week trying to come up with something decent – this was, after all, my coming out party. The idea I was, initially, going to go with, I still enjoy. A great deal. Alas, it didn’t work. So, yesterday (the due date) while I was in the shower (srsly, there is something to be said for bathroom genius) I conceived of what I actually submitted. I have to say, there is nothing like procrastination. I’m glad I still got it. Heaven forbid I ever have a publishing company supplied deadline. I’d be so fired. But, I digress. I wrote. I enjoyed doing it. I like the outcome. I will also post the outcome, but after I spend a bit more time with a red pen. I submitted it a tad hastily, I admit, but I didn’t have time to do a great deal of editing, due to the aforementioned procrastination (“Procrastination is like masturbation. It seems like a good idea at the time, but in the end you’re really only fucking yourself.”).

More exciting news? Scarlet came in the mail, yesterday! Scarlet is the name I’ve decided on for the creature of beauty I am currently composing this entry on. That’s right. My laptop. My first laptop. The key to my wildest dreams (it’s a justification for spending this much money, go with it)!

w00t.

Queen – Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

UNT.

PS. I’m trying, very hard, to figure out how to upload a picture. When (if) I figure this out, I will show off my computer. In the meantime, it’s linked on both Facebook and Northlands. :)

PPS. Diggity. It only took me what? Two months to find the time to figure this out?  (By the b’ye?  There are not that many icons on my desktop, currently.  There is one.  That is all.  This was taken on Day One of laptop ownership.  I feel it is important to note this (and the fact that I have an Irish Wolfhound as my backdrop, not stock Dell) as I hate a desktop that is littered with icons.  It drives me right batty.)

In the news.

13 Mar

So, I’m going to a meeting today. A meeting of minds, so to speak. See, there’re a few regulars at the bookstore I’m paid to hang out at (I feel like Paris Hilton when I describe work like that . . . that’s hot.). Said regs decided to start a writing group. One of them was foolish enough to mention it, offhandedly, while I was in earshot (he was also smart enough to skeedattle before I was able to chat him up about it, though, gotta give the man that). Another, more regular, also mentioned it offhandedly when he picked up the same book the other fellow had bought. Big mistake. He’s easier to bully into talking (I’m big. And mean. Oh yes.). So . . . long story short? I’m going to their meeting today. I missed their first assignment – something about a first bike, or biking experience – but I’ll sit in on their criticism session and politely sip on a latté . . . while being terrified of being addressed.

You see, precious reader, I’m not exactly out of the closet. I’ll talk about writing, and how I’d like to publish (if I could find the motivation and time to write more than just a blog entry here and there), but I have this “ZOMG! NO!” complex when dealing with someone who wants to (or needs to, in the case of professors and artists – yes, I have someone drawing a character of mine. pwnage.) read something I’ve written. So. Hopefully today results in a beginning of more writing and the increased ability not to hoard away my ideas and blatherings like so many acorns.

And? I have twelve days left to wait . . . for my brand spankin’ new laptop! So I’m pretty excited. And impatient. Mostly excited, though. I’ll show you. When it’s here. Oh. I’ll also let you know how today went. After it goes.

BSB – Quit Playing Games With My Heart (This is, surprisingly, not one of the songs that makes me go: “oh. Shit. I need to change this, son. This is brutal.” On the contrary. I love BSB. Funny how I can scream that and not let people in on my little worlds.)

UNT.

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