19 posts tagged “writing”

I'm so thrilled!!

 I've finally started to really put myself out there with my dog tees, I've been sending links to my dog blog  and samples of my tees out and it's actually paying off! This has been a huge step for me this year, with my writing and with my other creative pursuits, like Rattle and Bark. I'm not expecting overnight success with either, but it's important that I start putting myself out there so that good things can happen.

Check out my press from these two blogs: NYC Dog Blog and Gotham Unleashed

This book - Save the Cat! is fantastic - I originally got it for working on my screenplay, but as with most screenwriting books I think it's just a great tool in general - buy it if only for the "Beat Sheet" which is basically an outline that makes you break down your story idea. If you hate anything that looks anything like a formula, you might hate the beat sheet at first because it makes you take your story through traditional plot points. But for me this just forces me to clarify in a few sentences what happens and when. It's not so much about plot as it is about your main character's emotional arc. These aren't really plot points, but more like points where you take your character & story's temperature and see where you're at and what needs to happen next. I.E. if things are really heated in one scene that heat has to go somewhere, you have to see the cause and effect of things.

Save The Cat! The Last Book on Screenwriting You'll Ever Need

Blake Snyder

First of all, I totally need to get an umbrella. This is ridiculous. I'm sitting here at work this morning and I'm almost thirty (I'm not sure what that has to do with this, but just putting it out there) and my Pumas are soaking wet at work because I don't actually own an umbrella or a decent pair of rain boots and it's pouring out. I figured, somehow, that since the subway is a half block from my house and then a half block from work, I wouldn't get that wet. Um... I have clearly overestimated my rain dodging skills. I am not good at that. Seeing as how slushy snow season is coming upon us in New York as well, I think I better get me some boots (and not the fancy cute kind that can't get wet... I already have those...). 

Well the first few days of my write 20 minutes a day resolution are going really well! I went home last night after dinner with my guy and got some writing done. Then I woke up this morning, went for a run and came back and wrote some more. These new sections are really going to turn this novel back into something that I love. I wrote down some things last night that were new things about something I've been trying to write about for as long as I've been writing... so that's good. I was thinking about how the moments before writing are the worst moments. That's when all that stuff that's not really about writing comes up: what if this is all completely in vain? what if I never get published? what if I really don't have any talent at all? For anything. These aren't thoughts that come up while I'm actually writing. They come up when I'm not writing. so therefore, it's not the writing I should be avoiding or fearful of, it's the not writing.... hmmm... I'm going to have to work on reminding myself of that....

I'm not getting enough done. writing, exercise, all the things that make me feel good. It's been a really stressful week at work and in my down time I've been wallowing in comfort food (I made the best gorgonzola stuffed chicken boob last night... sooo good) and good wine and exciting presidential polls. I need to carve out some serious writing time. It doesn't have to be the whole night, but it has to happen everyday. That's the only way this is going to work. I need to start phasing out or at least phasing down the distractions. OK, so no more whining, here's the plan: I'm going to start with 20 minutes a day. Every day. Ideally this will happen in the morning, but I also want to do the hot yoga twice a week, and sometimes the morning is not realistic for other reasons - so if it doesn't happen in the morning, it has to happen at night. After work, before bed, what have you. I got a little bit done this morning, but it was mostly notes and I had CNN on mute in the background so I could sneak glances at the polls. So after a lovely dinner with my guy in the city, I'll go home and get some writing done. 

Work has been more nuts and fast paced than ever recently, hence not having any time to write here. So here's the update (this is as much for myself as anyone reading this, just to remind myself what's going on.)

So I decided I was going to write this morning. Here's how this usually goes: I wake up and immediately put on a pot of coffee. I stand near the coffee machine and tap my slippered toe while the pot gurgles to life. I take a glance in the cutlery drawer because it is easier to clean up exploded bugs when I am only half awake. No bugs. This is a good morning. Then sugar goes into the cup, coffee goes into the cup and I walk over to my laptop. First I turn on CNN, telling myself that the problems of the world are more important than my writing. I hear Sarah Palin talking about Obama paling around with terrorists. I turn off the TV and turn my attention to the computer. More sips of coffee. Then I pull up my novel on the computer and immediately think that I cannot possibly write directly into the computer. I have to begin longhand, get the ole joints involved. So I pull out my hard copy of my novel that has my notes on it in ten different colors of ink. I sigh. Some of the notes have exclamation points at the end of them. I put it down. What kind of asshole writes notes with exclamation points to themselves? I wonder. At this point I am almost defeated. I should have gone for a run, I think. At least get some exercise.  No, it's too late to go for a run, I have to get something down. So I look at my hard copy and I turn to page two. This is where I need to plant the seed that I've been thinking about. Right here on page two. I make a note to myself on the yellow legal pad next to me: "Pg. 2, first paragraph:" and I'm off and running. I start writing and all of a sudden I'm writing as fast as I can and the words are flowing and I can feel it - this pin prick that I've started is actually drawing blood. This is the good stuff, this is what I need to say. This is what this novel is really about.

I've spent a week since I figured out what I needed to do with this novel I've been at work, or lying in bed or on the subway and I'll remember a scene from the novel and I'll understand what I need to change to make this thing make sense. I don't mean to glorify this or to brag about it, it just feels really good to know where this thing is going... I feel like I've tried to swing this novel in two different directions - one where it's really really heavy and I'm so lost in that that I can't even move. And then one that's so light that it doesn't hold my interest, it's all plot and fluff. I feel like I know how to make this one novel now. 

So I've been sort of avoiding, dancing around starting the revision of my novel. Partly it's because I know there are some major problems with two major points in the novel, and I know that until I figure this out the thing is not going to make sense to me or anyone else. Well I finally figured out what needed to happen this morning as I was waiting for the subway. I've been reading Stephen King's book, "On Writing" which is just a fantastic book. 

So I've been sort of avoiding, dancing around starting the revision of my novel. Partly it's because I know there are some major problems with two major points in the novel, and I know that until I figure this out the thing is not going to make sense to me or anyone else. Well I finally figured out what needed to happen this morning as I was waiting for the subway. I've been reading Stephen King's book, "On Writing" which is just a fantastic book. 

To the bugs in my apartment: I think there may have been some confusion about what was supposed to happen after the exterminator came... this may have been my fault, perhaps I wasn't clear about this. You were supposed to die. You were not supposed to start swaggering around my apartment with glow sticks like teenagers just getting out of a rave. The aimless swaggering may indeed be stage 1 of your demise. Perhaps the poison takes a while to take effect... I do appreciate the apparent abandonment of my cutlery drawer. I do not, however, appreciate your new fondness for that wall near my bed... If I can I would like to suggest another location to you - the basement. It's f-ing disgusting down there and far from my apartment, you will LOVE it.