Out of Sight

Yes indeed, I have been rather out of sight of late...sorry!

You may recall that I was approaching my self-appointed deadline for completing my manuscript. Well, mission accomplished! It was absurdly early/late in the morning, but I reached my goal and for the first time in my life completed a novel. I then awarded myself a couple weeks of writer's vacation so that when I went back in to do the polishing, I was going at it with fresh eyes.

This is why no one on the mighty internets have really heard from me. I was on a media binge (many, many movies and TV shows), dabbled with the idea of getting more Phil Innis work done (I did, a little) and separated myself as best I could from my big triumph.

Now, I'm back in the saddle, and I feel fantastic. It's so nice to be in this final leg of the solo-journey, I can't even tell you! I handed out the polished version of Chapter 1 to the lovely ladies in my writer's group last night, and began work on Chapter 2 this morning.

The 'polishing' stage is so...fulfilling. Why? Here's the way I see the whole process:

Creating: The most fun part. For me, this involves listening to inspiration and a whole lot of day dreaming and pages and pages of notes and preparation. Who are the characters? Where are they from? How good are their manners? What colors exist in this world? And so on. It's guilt-free, commitment-free, limitless and giddy.

Writing: This is where the first taste of 'work' comes in. Writing is so fun for me--it's making all of those ideas and feelings from the 'creating' stage exist in the real world. Granted, it's just on paper, but now you can truly share it with other people! But the knowledge that there's no easy take-backs puts a little stress into the mix. This is the craft part; it's where you realize whether or not you have the talent/drive/pure-mean-spirited-gumption to even make the whole 'writing' thing work.

Editing: Blarg. This is the real, nasty, nitty, gritty, why-am-I-doing-this-to-myself work part. I have a strong dislike for editing. Everyone has that internal editor who is so often condemned by the cheer squad, but this is where you have to let the little demon loose. You see all of your mistakes--in plot, in grammar, in form--and have to scour them from the soul of your baby with a red-hot scrub brush. Obviously, there are some people who enjoy this task. Equally obviously, I am not one of them.

Polishing: This is where I am now. And it's the first time when I've felt that I'm not just tapping out some silly story for my own sake. It's the real deal. I have a product which I am perfecting so that it can be sent out! Oddly enough, this was the part of the process I was truly not looking forward to. It just seemed so unnecessary--why would I pour my heart and soul over something when I'm inevitably going to have to watch some other editor scrape it off? But now I see it differently. This is the stage where I reacquaint myself with my little world. I've worked hard to get this far; this is the last stop where it's just me, the story, and everything that's been built up between us. Like a last chat with a dear friend before they go off into the world.

And that's where I am now! I'm incredibly happy with the situation. Heel clicks and flower necklaces all around!

And just in case anyone needs a boost, enjoy this darling little cartoon that absolutely requires two watch-throughs:

Short Story

Hello :)

So, things are still going well with the book writing adventure. I have a solid, actual deadline of having a complete working first draft finished within the next ten days: so by the 15th! Then the heavy editing begins, and glimpsing back at some of the first chapters, I can tell you it is going to be heavy. But I'm rather looking forward to it.

 Hint: I am not the dumbbell in this analogy.

In all honesty, being as far as I am came very close to not happening. I had a really easy time getting the book started; I went through the NaNoWriMo program, and if you don't know what that is I suggest you look it up! It's rigorous, and a great way to leap off the safe end of the writer's dock and plunge into the icy pool of productivity.

When NaNo was finished, I took a little break. Then I sat myself down with the idea that I was going to be serious about this, finish my novel, and leap into stardom sometime before lunch.Then I found out that my friend Amber was into writing, too, and we gleefully set up a writer's group.

Well, the first meeting came and went. The second meeting came and went. And the fourth, and the fifth, and I was beginning to notice a pattern about the reviews I was getting.

A photocopy of my notes, with quotes from readers.

 I went through about a bajillion edits, rewrites, and pity-parties, trying to figure out where I was going wrong. One of the few things I'd ever been consistently told that I do well is write. If I couldn't get the ideas in my head out in an appealing, much less understandable, manner, then what did that mean about my dream? Or me, as a person?

My spirits sank lower and lower as I simply could not hammer out the problem. Then one night, I had a (sort of) chance encounter with my sister, Sandi. That conversation scooped me up from my sunken sanctum of the soul and in a huge way guided me onto the path where I have taken Ze Book. Immediately after, I wrote down the conversation just so I could go back to it if I ever needed to. Well, that need arose the other day, and while I was reading it I thought it might interest a few others to scope out.

So, if you are at all interesting, here is a short nonfiction story (which I honestly never thought I would ever be presenting):

                She was exactly where I had left her that morning.

                “Hey,” I greeted from my position at the counter. I didn’t expect her to lift her head; according to my mother, the patterns she was working on were due on Friday. I set down the grocery bag and put away the bagels. By putting away, I mean set them relatively close to the kitchen wall. “How was your day?”

                “Hey,” She returned. Her eyes didn’t stray from the screen, covered in neat letters and lovely shades of strawberry. “It was…good. How was yours?”

                I repeated her words verbatim, with the same uncertain pause.

                “What’s the matter?” She asked. She didn’t need to and I didn’t expect her to, but I think we both knew she would.

                “Well,” I decided without hesitation to skip over the boring details of the day job. There was something much greater at stake. “I have an almost complete copy of the new Chapter One finished, implementing all of the advice that you guys gave me.”

                “All of the advice you didn’t want.” She had lifted her head now, and was shooting me that amused smile that came from a teasing truth. It was one that was often flashed in this house.

                “No, I wanted it, I just didn’t like it.” I smiled back. I leaned against the counter, feeling sorry for myself and knowing it showed. But my chest had not yet lifted from the heavy weight that was settling over it. A weight that came from knowing you’re licked. “Anyway, I had Zach read it. And it still sucked.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “He said basically the same thing that you guys did. It was all over the place, he couldn’t catch onto it, but it’s a good idea.” In other words, unreadable. Which was a big problem when you were writing a novel. She stared at me. I stared back, feeling that feint urge to cry and not wanting to be a big baby about the whole thing.

                “It is a good idea. You’re a great writer, it’s just, for some reason-“ She interrupted herself abruptly. “I mean, I was talking with someone on the phone today, and she said, ‘You know, I read that blog your sister wrote,’ and I kind of laughed and said, ‘Oh, very funny,’ and she said, ‘No, the other one, the one you posted. I asked my daughter if she read it, and she’s just very good.’”

I hesitated. I wanted to believe the words. I wanted to believe that someone out there who had no reason to care about me or my writing hobby really enjoyed whatever I typed out. “Really?”

“Yeah.  So you’re a really good writer. It’s just—the book, for some reason—I just don’t get it. I get everything else you’ve written—the podcasts, the blog, the short stories—but I just don’t get the book. In the blog and the podcasts and everything, you’ve still got that snarky humor, but I GET them. There’s just something wrong with the book.” There was no malice in her words. Just that brutal honesty that I had asked for since the beginning.

Of all things, I couldn’t help but smile. It made sense. My sister had always been honest with me about what she thought about my writing, and other than safeguarding my feelings (something I had always appreciated her not doing) she had no reason to lie now. And she was right. There was something different I was doing when writing the book. Something I was trying to shoehorn into my regular style and failing at.

“So I just need to research myself a bit.” I smiled some more. Nirvana was melting that ache in my chest.

“Yeah.” She smiled briefly, and turned back towards her own work. “Which is better than saying you need to research someone else.”

“And better than saying, ‘hey, you might want to reconsider the ‘dream’ a bit.’” I added.

We laughed. We exchanged a bit of small talk. Rather than hugging her, I commented like I liked the strawberry color on her pattern. She thanked me, and I trekked downstairs.

Whatever tension it was I was trying to add to the book, I realized I needed to let that go. I needed to write the way I write everything else; changing my style so that I fit in with my contemporaries was stupid in many, many ways. I needed to just write the darn thing. And starting tonight, that’s exactly what I was going to do.

Dear Ms. X:

Woah, long time since my last update! Sorry about that, folks, but I've been up to a lot of mischief. Jimes and gambles have been at play. Insert other fun cliche here.

I'd love to fill you in on everything I've done, but you saw a vague list in my last post, and let's be honest: nobody reads a stranger's blog to hear about chores and recaps. And if they do...well, it's probably because they're a superhero/villain and need a break from their otherwise extremely exciting lives.

Instead of telling you how many loads of dishes I've done and how many pages I've written (alright, the answer to both is 'oodles') I'm going to share something I've recently crafted: my 'kisses kisses please represent me' letter. The 'professionals' call it a query letter, but that's just because their educated lips don't know how to make proper kissy sounds.

Eventually, hopefully 'soon', I will have a completed novel. And when I have polished, sand blasted, and polished it again, I will seek an agent to seek a publisher to shove my baby in the public's eye. This is the letter that will hopefully start the process:

Dear Ms. X:

I thought that getting shot in the face by a green-eyed dame was the worst thing that could happen to me. Then my mother was kidnapped.

I don't want to think that it's my fault, but I have to face facts:

-I, like a brainless goldfish, swallowed a magic rock.

-Everyone and their enchanted dog wants the rock for themselves.

-The only leverage anyone could have against me was my mother.

-Someone decided to use that leverage.

Now I'm stuck working with two private detectives—one of whom is the lady that shot me in the face—who want the rock for their client. They've agreed to help rescue my mother if I give the rock to them. That is, of course, assuming there's some way to retrieve the rock before it gets absorbed into my body: a process which I can only hope will not kill me.

First Time's a Charm is a YA novel, the first in a planned series. The novel is complete at 65,000 words.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Yours,

Thomas Kaiser
(Edited and Produced by J Larkin)

So what do you guys think? If you received this amongst 50-60 other queries, would you, an imaginary agent, request pages? Or is the bait not tantalizing enough? I plan on sending the letter over to Query Shark  once Ze Book is complete, but for now I'll settle for posting it on my own site.

In other news, The Phil Innis Adventures had its first semi-successful recording session!! I have legitimate audio files to play with, and play I have. The episode is not complete, but when it is I'll post it up for people to have a listen to, just to see if the formula is right.

Until later, take care!

-J

Beating the 'Crap' out of 'Crap Ton of Stuff to Do!'

As briefly mentioned before, I have been a busy girl.

In the last month or so, I have signed back up for college (technically having never dropped out, but having allowed about a year to pass since my last semester), after having transferred to a new school in the first place.

I have also decided to make the brash and possibly mind-crushing goal of completing Ze Book before the semester starts. This now leaves me with 16 days. Yikes.

I've also been making efforts to get recording going on The Phil Innis Adventures. I haven't made much headway in that area due to my voice actors of choice having strained schedules themselves, but just having it officially on the plate is a nice but stressful change.

What else? Back to drawing, considering painting, working as much as I can so I can not be flat broke, and somehow managing to begin my transformation into a social creature. Because other than going to work, I really don't/didn't get out all that much, save for the odd gad-about with family members. And there's only so much social growth you can get in whilst arguing with a coworker over who has to clean the immense septic time bomb known as the Pan Washer.

Oh, and also, I've been trying really hard to get exercise. On my days off I go to the YMCA, listen to a couple of cheesy old detective radio shows, and run on the elliptical machine. I feel better doing so than not, and hope it'll be the beginning of a real change for the better. I don't have a negative body image. I just want to be more prepared for that one time when I stumble across a bank robbery and have to beat the culprits down with a loosely bolted lamp.

My sister and the Broinlaw are going to Houston for that...fabric market thing that so dominates the lives of many overworked fabric designers (and their spouses) throughout this upcoming week. This has resulted in a hilarious amount of soul-ripping hard work on their parts, and if you happen to be in Houston, dash over to gawk at their undoubtedly amazing booth. Whimper a little and say that you wish you had half their talent. It will make them feel good.

Meanwhile, as I work almost the entire week, the Niece and Nephew will be staying with grandparents in town. Except for the company of the admittedly amazingly affectionate dog, as well as an evening visit from fabulous friend Amber (and more likely than not her charming children), that will leave me alone in the house for about a week.

I'm actually quite excited! With all that lonely quiet, I imagine I can accomplish a lot of writing and various other creative endeavors. Or, you know, spend the whole time watching old episodes of Psych and Leverage. But I'm sure I'll get SOME work done.

Now, for those that care, here is a long video about the semi-recent trip to Mexico (and hopefully the first in a long line of vlogs, if I could just myself motivated to use that stupidly expensive camera I bought):

Avast!

Hey folks, long time no post. Thou wouldst not believe the madness that the last couple of weeks have been. Perhaps I will post about it, perhaps not, but really...I don't think half of you would believe me. And I'm pretty sure there's only one person who regularly reads this thing. The math is not good.

Anyway, in this post, I figured I'd write about Pirates of the Caribbean!

Yes, Please.

As many of you may know, there's a new PotC film coming out soon. As many of you may not know, I saw the first film about seven times in theaters (and when I got it on DVD it was practically on infinite loop). I've been into pirates since I was knee-tall to a grasshopper.

I like pirates even better than ninjas, and I was second only next to my brother in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fanclub.

I like pirates even better than knights and the medieval ages, both fictional and historical, and I wrote almost every single one of my 'choose your own theme' high school papers on medieval-themed stuff (usually on their methods of criminal punishments).

If I ever get married, this will probably be my wedding cake.

In fact, the only thing that challenges my interest in pirates is the film noir, hardboiled pulp fiction stuff, and that's what I'm working on in hopes of founding a career in it! I celebrate National Talk Like a Pirate Day (September 19, for those of you not in the know), I introduced myself as Jenni Hawkins in first grade, and my favorite ride in Disneyland is...well, you see where I'm going here.

So Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, was like filmographic manna from heaven to me. It had everything an awesome movie should have: memorable characters, tragic and/or hilarious backstories, action, adventure, intrigue, mystery! It even had a strong female lead, which is not really typical for piratey goodness (in spite of historical examples of pirate chicks crushing various things that ought not to be crushed, but that's a topic for another day).

It was the pirate film to end all pirate films, and somewhat unusually, it gained a massive following to reward its awesomeness. I was beside myself with glee when I heard about the sequel, and went to the midnight release all dressed up in pirate regalia with my friends, ready to be wowed.

This pretty much sums it all up.

Instead of just focusing on sword fights, demon ships, and the potential eternal damnation of Jack Sparrow's soul, they decided to throw in a love triangle. Because, y'know, nothing draws you closer to a character than watching them stab their most beloved partners in the back for no apparent reason at all.

There was so much that went right in this movie. But the focus they put on this ridiculous development soured everything around it. Like putting a slice of moldy cheese in the middle of a really, really, ridiculously good sandwich. (Also, I haven't eaten breakfast or lunch yet. I should probably get on that.)

But there was still hope...sort of. The movie had still been a gorgeous feast for the eyes. There had still been pirates in it. So maybe the thing between the three leads had been tossed into obscurity...surely they would fix it in the end!

Or...you know...not. Pirates 3 came out and the special effects were ridoncidonculously good. Jack was still Jack...ish. Elizabeth ended up as a Pirate King, which was so incredibly cool. The wedding mid-battle was so unfreaking believably hardcore piratical, I couldn't blink throughout the sequence. The problem was, the writers had already thrown the characters into the same lot as the villains inasmuch as what they were willing to do to get what they wanted. So...the 'good guys' win. Yaaaay?

Four out of five pirates agree that bad decisions were made for the sake of plot idiocy.

It took me a long time to get the bad taste out of my mouth. Not that it should really surprise me; tons of films with unexpected (or even expected) sequels wind up deviating from the path they landed on in the last ending rather than actually working off of what they accomplished. Maybe it's the snobby writer in me, but it drives me nuts (which reminds me of a great pirate joke).

So when I heard about PotC 4, I was hesitant, then excited, then more hesitant. They've done away with Will and Elizabeth (partially because their actors were also disgusted with the route their characters took, according to various hushy sources). That eliminates the dumb love triangle. But instead of bringing back the really cool pirate chick from the first film (Anna Maria, based off two of the most well known historical pirate ladies) they decided to bring in Penelope Cruz for Jack's love interest. The idea, as I understand it, is that she's Blackbeard's daughter. Meh...

Am I going to see this new movie? Most definitely. Will it disappoint? I don't know...I'm going in with really low expectations, given the track record. Which usually results in liking a movie better than you would have if you expected it to be unbelievably good.

And that's all I have to say about that. I'll come back with another Pirate Report once I've seen the movie. 'Til then, drink up, me hearties. Yo ho.

A Sprawling Answer

Hey gang! This blog is in response to another blog posted by a friend of mine. Her blog can be read here, along with a few of her other ramblings which are thoroughly enjoyable to read!

So, the basic question was this: Why are so many Mormons mean? The whole point of the religion is love, understanding, and compassion!

For those of you who don't know me personally, I am (dun dun DUUUUN) a Mormon.

(They're...they're everywhere!!)

I was born into a mostly Mormon family, grew up, went through my questioning phase, and after browsing my personal thoughts and feelings and the beliefs of other churches, I'm still filed under 'LDS.'

Now, I don't know how many of you have ever met a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (ie Mormons), or have lived in Utah, and to a lesser degree Idaho. But it is a true fact, and one I've had shoved in my face often, that those of Mormon faith can be kind of nasty when they're in packs.

In fact, I've encountered both sides of the nasty fence. I've been ruthlessly picked on because I was LDS, and have known people who were ruthlessly picked on because they weren't.

It's a sad fact! Those who claim to have the greatest love of whatever deity they believe in can turn around and be the meanest people!

But, I believe, therein lay the issue. No matter what a church preaches, no matter how wonderful the ideals are or how marvelous the people running the show are, the members are still (tragic music) people.

A person can be understanding, kind, sympathetic, nonjudgmental, giving, and all sorts of wonderful faith/trust/pixie dust kinds of things. But people? That's where fear, irrational anger, and bullying comes from. Whichever group has the bigger pack is generally going to feel every inch of britches that it has. It's a long standing tradition; minorities get picked on, and un-minorities are jerkwads.

Is there a solution to this? Sure. Persons need to prevent themselves from becoming People. Don't be sheep, bleating along with your fellows just because you all have furry butts. Don't be salmon, swimming right into a Grizzly bear's mouth just because all the other salmon are doing it. And don't assume that anyone else is exactly like anyone else, just because they share one trait, be it religion, sexuality, race, or taste in music.

People who come from a different background than oneself are the richest source of that special something that makes ones own world bloom into something new and wonderful. Shutting that out because you disagree on one thing is, for lack of a better word, dumb.

Well, I think that was a poorly constructed answer, but the point got across alright.

Now enjoy this video!

All Better (and Better and Better!)

Hello everyone!

So now, I'm almost completely over my sickiness. I feel way better than I did, and throughout the healing process I uncovered a lot of exciting news, and did some exciting things.

I'm tempted to list these from mundane to most exhilarating, but sorting them thusly would be...difficult. So I'll just shove them off of the diving board in my brain however they happen to line up.

I've finally made some more progress in Ze Book. I was having a bit of trouble for a while there, for reasons that sprouted entirely from my own issues. You know; go a few days without being able to make any progress, initiating a freak-out that maybe you can't do this after all, proceed to a few days of self-loathing for giving up so easily, and finally snap out of it after a cleansing venting session with a friend at work (Thanks, Roberta!)

So, progress is being made. Slowly but surely. Will I reach my goal of having a publishable book before the end of the year? Definitely. Will I reach my goal of "" before I start school in the summer? Eh...we'll see.

In a different creative vein, I've made these:

This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is Agatha Helmsley. She is the unbelievably efficient secretary to Counselor Jasper South:

who is a lawyer in a 1940's Southern town. He's very good at what he does, and sees justice and fair play as ways of life rather than just ideals. He often runs into:

Edgar Rhodes, an officer in the Homicide Division, and the long-time off/on/off/on/off/on/off paramour of:

Phillipa 'Phil' Innis, the southern private detective who is hired by Jasper, friends with Agatha, and the lead of 'The Phil Innis Adventures,' an audio drama which will hopefully be coming 'soon.' Meaning, of course, whenever I can get a few shows recorded and mixed, which is not happening with any amount of ease because my actors all have very conflicting schedules :)

The pictures I created with a vector program (my sister says I use the term 'vector' in a weird way, and maybe I do, in which case I apologize but don't really care) to be used as decorations on the eventual hosting website. They're not quite finished yet, but I wanted to show what I've been working on so it doesn't just feel like I've been futzing around on the computer :) I have plans. Oh, how I have plans. But step by step, yes?

So that's the news on my creative front.

In other news, I was driven to squealing like an idiot schoolgirl pig by this news: Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, my ultimate of ultimate favorite bands, is going to be playing in my state. The day after my birthday, at the end of this year.

SQUEALZMGEEEK!!!

So, I know where I'll be on December 15th. I've often said I'd give an arm and a leg (maybe not mine, but someone's) to see them live. Problem, is they usually play more in the Southern region (is that irony, considering my earlier southern-related stuff?). But now, here we are. They'll be just a five-to-six hour drive away. And no one need lose their limbs! YAY!

And, finally, the family vacation is coming up. Have I mentioned this? My dad and stepmom decided to round up the entire gang (that's...that's a lot of people, let me tell you) and foot the bill to get us all on a cruise to Mexico.

My jaw hit the floor. Did anybody else's?

I'm really excited about this. We have never, literally never, done anything as an entire unit. That includes: Mom, Dad, Stepmomster (loving nickname she came up with herself, by the way), Big sister, Broinlaw, Big brother, Me, Little brother, Little sister, Little stepbrother, Little sister.2, Little Halfsis, Niecey, Nephewpoo.

That's a lot of Brown/Henderson/Matelich, right there.

And between school, and work, and living very long distances away...this is quite possibly the only shot we'll have to spend this much time together. On a big fancy boat.

Coming this April!