Blog Archives

How Writers Exercise

You would think that sitting at a computer all day would mean that writers get darn little exercise. Not so! Using just a few objects found in any house, writers can stay fit. Here’s how:

1. Cat. Preferably, more than one cat. Sit at the computer. Begin to type. At the sound of a loud crash in another room, jump up and race to the scene. Clean up broken vase/lamp/knickknack. Return to computer. Begin to type. When loud hissing and snarling breaks out, run to the next room. Observe cats sitting calmly washing themselves and looking at you as if wondering why you are breathing so hard.

2. Washer and Dryer. Throw a load of clothes in the washer. Run back upstairs. Sit at computer. Begin to type. Remember fabric softener. Run back downstairs. Add fabric softener. Run back upstairs. Sit at computer. Actually type a few pages. Washer buzzer sounds. Run back downstairs. Transfer load to dryer. Start second load. Run back upstairs. Begin to type. Remember dryer sheet. Run back down stairs. See washer spilling water all over the floor. Grab mop and begin aerobic mopping.

3. Stove. Place main course in oven. Sit at computer. Begin to type. Jump up and run to kitchen to start the potatoes. Return to computer. Begin to type. Jump up and run back to kitchen to turn down potatoes which are boiling over. Return to computer. Begin to type. Buzzer sounds. Jump up, run to kitchen and turn meat over. Return to computer. Begin to type. Encounter really exciting scene which is flowing so beautifully you are transported. Come to when smoke alarm sounds. Race madly to kitchen to put out the fire.

4. Spouse. Get married. Sit at computer. Begin to type. Spouse calls from basement. Jump up and run downstairs. Answer perfectly simple question about what to do with old box of junk. Run back upstairs. Begin to type. Spouse calls from garage. Run out to garage. Help lift several heavy boxes of junk to make room for new box of junk. Return to computer. Begin to type. Spouse calls from front yard. Get up and run outside. Cat escaped while spouse was carrying box of junk to the garage. Spend next twenty minutes jogging around the yard chasing the cat.

5. Kids. Self-explanatory.

6. Telephone. Sit at computer. Begin to type. Phone rings. Jump up, since it is the land line in the other room, and run to see who it is. A telemarketer. Return to computer. Begin to type. Cell phone rings. Jump up (because the phone is in the bedroom on the nightstand) and run. Friend texting silly joke. Return to computer. Begin to type. BOTH phones ring. Answer cell phone (which you have cleverly brought with you) while running for the other line. Friend wants to know if you received the funny text. Telemarketer wants to sell you a gym membership. Laugh so hard it counts as aerobic breathing.

 

A Cat-Friendly Book Trailer

While experimenting with GIMP (GNU Image Manipulation Program) we created the following book trailer for Time’s Edge.

 

 

 

The Mom Voice

We have interesting discussions at our house. The other day we were talking about universal constants. (We can’t remember how this worked its way into the conversation, but that happens a lot around here.) We talked about the speed of light. Gravity. Moms.

Moms was our daughter’s contribution. She firmly stated there is one thing that is instantly recognized everywhere, regardless of where in the world you happen to be. The Mom Voice.

Everyone knows the Mom Voice. It is the voice that freezes children on playgrounds. It stops physical action with one word. It can be heard over distances that would make even fire truck horns sound muted. It is the ultimate authority, that instantly recognized tone to which all beings respond.

We have seen the Mom Voice in action many times. Once, while on vacation, we had a room overlooking the hotel pool. It had begun to rain and thunder, but several kids were still swimming. One irate mom, who had sent her husband to (unsuccessfully) extract their children from the pool, came to the edge of the water, put her hands on her hips and commanded, “Get out of the pool. NOW!” Not only did her children promptly vacate the pool, every other child (and a few dads) also sprang from the water.

At our house, the Mom Voice showed its awesome power just yesterday. One of the kittens was attempting to paw open a cupboard door. After being removed from the kitchen half a dozen times, the kitten waited until Mom had settled comfortably in a chair with a good book. Then she crept back into the kitchen. The unmistakeable sound of kitten claws against wood drifted into the living room. Not wanting to get up again, Mom yelled, “I know what you’re doing and you had better stop it!”

The results were immediate. Down the hall in her bedroom, our daughter froze, thinking “But I’m just doing school work.” Joe came out of the office and poked his head around the corner with an inquiring what-have-I-done-now expression. Both kittens went scampering. And outside the open window, in the neighbor’s yard, two boys stood frozen by the rock wall that divides the yards. They carefully put down the rocks they had been removing from the wall (for what purpose we do not know) and crept away.

The Mom Voice. It’s a superpower.

The Best Wireless Device in the World

September is Library Card Sign-up Month!

When Inanimate Objects Achieve Consciousness

We’ve noticed an interesting trend in our house. Over the years the inanimate things around us have slowly taken on a life of their own. They develop personalities and even have individual quirks.

Take the older vacuum. It has been around for decades. We inherited it from Joe’s grandmother. It resides in the basement where it works sucking up cat litter, dryer lint, and the occasional spider. It is held together with duct tape and has a loud, rumbling roar. We have named this beast Attila.

Attila is the perfect name for this vacuum. He is an old warrior, scarred, loud, but still battling. He may be a little grumpy (he definitely growls when his dust bag is too full) but he gets the job done. His worst habit is that he blows dust out his, well, rear.

Now our upstairs vacuum is completely different. New, sleek, efficient, she glides through the day effortlessly. She has sensors that tell us when her dust bag is full (a bag, by the way, that doesn’t leak dust), she has a HEPA filter and several settings for rugs, bare floors, and upholstery. She is shiny, upright and beautiful. And the name of this vacuuming goddess? Athena.

The air filter in our daughter’s bedroom is known as Wheezer for the sounds he makes. We think he has worse allergies than she does. Wheezer is temperamental and grouchy. He growls at everyone except our daughter, who he seems to like. He particularly loathes the cats, and they take delight in tormenting Wheezer until his warning lights flash into the red zone and he shrieks his indignation at having to filter cat fur.

And the list goes on. We have a pickaxe named Bertha and a computer named Jafrey, after a wise-ass character in our book, Time’s Edge. Jafrey’s personality and the computer’s personality are so similar its downright eerie. And don’t get us started about the toilet in the main bath. It sighs, it groans, sometimes it even hisses. It effectively combines rudeness with martyrdom, and its editorial comments can be, shall we say, annoyingly timely. We suspect it’s suffering from job burn-out and needs to retire. We haven’t named it. We don’t want to encourage it.

 

 

The Seven Stages of Writing

1. Inspiration. You have a great idea for a book. You love it. You know everyone else will love it, too. You can’t wait to start writing. You begin to make notes. On your brown lunch bag. On napkins. On little sticky notes.

2. Frenzy. You start writing. Every spare moment, you’re at the computer. The words are flowing so freely, you can’t type fast enough. You write anywhere, any time you can. On your brown lunch bag. On napkins. On little sticky notes.

3. Doubt. The plot isn’t turning out exactly the way you thought it would. (Where is that sticky note with the great plot twist…?) The characters are, perhaps, not quite right. Maybe the pacing is too slow? Perhaps the ending is a bit predictable? Perhaps… maybe…

4. Anger. Oh, crap. This plot problem is insurmountable. You can’t figure out how to end the chapter you are working on. You’re over your word count. Your characters just aren’t behaving. Your sticky notes are wadded into a giant sticky note ball. Banging your head on the desk doesn’t help.

5. Exhaustion. You feel this damn book will never be finished. You type grimly with fingers made of lead. Each word is drawn slowly and painfully from your beleaguered brain. You know you will never have another creative idea as long as you live. The sticky note ball is in the trash.

6. Acceptance. It’s done. You sigh with the relief of a mother who has just given birth. You even retrieve the sticky note ball from the trash and untangle the pages. After all, you never know. You drift off peacefully to sleep. And dream…

7. Déjà vu. See stage one.

Statistics, The Curse of Social Networking

Everywhere you go these days the unending varieties of social networking sites provide an equally unending stream of information. And the stats to go with them.

It’s all too easy to get obsessed by statistics. You start out with your very first page. The site very helpfully provides information about how your page is doing, how many people have visited, how many have left comments or liked your page. Instant feedback. How nice! And at first it’s fun. Look! We had ten visitors! Ten! Isn’t that amazing? Ten more people now know about us! (And then you learn that the ten were your parents, siblings and a cousin, the one you can’t stand.)

You then begin to worry. Why only ten? We have to do better. You scan other pages, looking at the hundreds and thousands of fans and comments they have. How in the world does L.L. Bean do it? What does Madonna have that we don’t? Gee, Stephen King only has to write the first few pages of a new novel and the world beats a path to his page. You read other blogs, trying to fathom the mysterious secret, the magic combination that sets them apart and earns them such avid readership.

Well, you decide, if they can do it so can we. You try to determine how to get the most hits. What brings people to your page? What gets the most likes and comments? You experiment, try new things and often end up scratching your head at what works and what doesn’t. (Like the time we simply could not think of anything to blog about so we quickly wrote a spoof of A Visit from St. Nicholas which we called Twas the Night We Were Blogging. It has been our most popular blog to date. Go figure!)

Soon you are checking your stats daily. Are they up? Hooray! Down? Oh, no! Unchanged? WHY? Is the darn site glitching again? You start questioning yourself. Wondering. Worrying. Trying to come up with something new, something entertaining, something… Well, if we knew what the magical something was, we’d do it! And you still keep anxiously watching those stats.

It is not long before you are sneaking peeks at your stats a few times a day. Just a quick look. Just want to see if we’re doing better/worse/the same than we were this morning/this afternoon/this evening/ten minutes ago. Any new fans on Facebook? 55? Yea! We got a new one. You dance an Irish jig around the office until your significant other comes in and says that you already had 55 fans. You insist it was only 54. And you spend the next half hour arguing over that one fan, who is probably your cousin, the one you dislike.

Book sales are the worse type of all the stats. The figures change hourly. You can be selling in the top 2% one hour and drop down to 10% in the next. It’s worse than watching the stock market and just as unpredictable. When your sales are soaring you wonder (amid the cheering and fist-pumping) just why the world has suddenly flocked to your book. Was it the blog? Did they see the trailer on youtube? Perhaps it was the promotion on Goodreads? Just what in the world did we do to make this happen and how can we keep doing it? Unfortunately, when sales are dropping, you wonder the same things, in reverse. Didn’t anyone read the bog? Can’t they find the trailer on youtube? Is the Goodreads promotion just not enough? What in the world did we do to make this happen and how can we stop doing it?

Statistics obsession eventually reaches a peak. After the roller coaster of ups and downs, you chill out, knowing that your rankings can and will change at the drop of a hat for reasons unknown. It could be the phase of the moon. Or the stars might not be in the right position. Or perhaps your cousin, the one you dislike, has a big mouth and a lot of friends, which, for once, has worked to your advantage. Or maybe, just maybe, it was that last blog/Facebook post/book trailer/promotion that did it this time. Hmm. Perhaps we should check those stats again and try to figure it out…

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost. Some Are Just Looking for Their Glasses.

Sitting down to write a book isn’t as easy as, well, sitting down to write a book.

The process of getting two writers to sit down and write at the same time can be arduous. First of all, as most married folks know, getting a husband and wife to agree on what they want to do at any given moment is a feat all by itself. He suggests doing some writing before dinner. She points out that although she is a multi-tasker extraodinaire, cooking and writing simultaneously always results in a burned dinner. She suggests writing after dinner. He has a meeting, which is why he suggested writing before dinner. So they sit down to write and the dinner burns.

As any writer knows, writing is a daily activity. If writers waited for the perfect mood, they’d never write anything. Finding that idyllic place, the yeah-this-stuff-is-rolling-out-of-my-brain-just-as-fast-as-I-can-type moment, is rare. Having two people hit that high at the same time is even rarer. It’s much more common for one to be ready to write and the other not interested at all. Sort of a “not tonight, I have a headache” type of thing. This is where scheduling writing time comes in handy. It’s like making a date. You look forward to it, you prepare for it and (hopefully) you score.

And let us not forget our writing tools. Is it a plotting session? Then lined yellow pads and pencils are needed. Editing? Red pens are a must! Plus a lot of tea. And maybe something stronger if editing gets really brutal. Actual writing? Here we differ. Mary writes on a computer, Joe, the old fashioned way, long-hand on a legal pad. That makes combining scenes LOADS of fun. Deciphering Joe’s handwriting is not for the faint of heart. Not to mention having to print a half written scene from the computer, adding long-hand notations, and then transcribing the whole thing into a workable (and readable) draft. Yikes!

A place to write is important, too, and also depends on what we happen to be doing. We edit at the kitchen table because editing needs a lot of room, not only for spreading out various drafts and scenes but for ducking if someone throws something. Plotting needs atmosphere. The gazebo in summer, by the fireplace in winter. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? It can be and plotting a storyline can be a lot of fun. (When you’re not banging your head on a table because you can’t figure out just how the heck you’re going to get out of the corner you’ve written yourself into, this is.) And the actual writing? We need separate spaces for this part of the job. In fact, this is so important we have another blog coming devoted just to this topic!

Finally, and most importantly, we both wear reading glasses. This is a problem, because, as anyone who wears reading glasses knows, there is a special law of physics that states that reading glasses are never left in the same spot twice. The joke in our house is that we need glasses to find our glasses. Writing sessions are often delayed as one or the other hunts for our glasses. No glasses, no writing. So we wander from room to room, wondering where we left them, wondering if someone else could have moved them, wondering if we have gnomes who come out at night and hide our glasses. And that brings us to the moral of our story. Not all those who wander are lost. Some are just looking for their glasses.

(J.R.R. Tolkien’s birthday is January 3rd. His book, The Fellowship of the Ring, is the source of the “not all those who wander are lost” quote. The full quote goes: “All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be the blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.”)

Tolkien, apparently, never had any trouble finding his glasses.

How to Write a Book during a Blizzard

Ah, a blizzard! The perfect excuse to stay home and write. There will be hours of uninterrupted time. Time to start a book! Finish a book! Plot another book! Here’s how to go about it.

Step one: Wake up and discover that the storm predicted to go out to sea the night before is barreling toward your location at the speed of Concorde jet. Wake up husband and then madly dash to the kitchen to make sure you have enough food. Sigh in relief when you discover you do. Before complete relaxation can take hold, realize that you have no cat food and the cat is already staring at you as if you were a hamburger and she knows where the ketchup bottle is. Husband lies in bed wondering why he is awake so early on his day off.

Step two: Ignore grumbling husband, get dressed and cleverly drive to small, local market to avoid the panic at the grocery store. Discover that the store does not open until 10:00 because it is Sunday and the day after Christmas. Start swearing and drive to the larger store. Circle the parking lot like a shark as you search for a parking place. As someone pulls out, step on the gas and pull into a space ahead of two other cars trying to do the same thing. Pretend you don’t see them saluting you.

Step three: Head to the deli because your ultra-fussy cat won’t eat regular cat food. Grab a number. Forty-one. Look up at the “Now Serving” number. Two. Swear. (Don’t worry about the people standing near you. They will be swearing, too.) Wait for forty-five minutes to get a half-pound of sliced chicken breast and a half-pound of sliced turkey. Go stand in three mile-long check-out line. Fume. Pay. Walk through parking lot with three cars following you in hopes of snagging your spot. Narrowly escape with your fenders intact. Ignore the sound of the crash as you drive away.

Step four: Return home to find your now awake husband outside frantically taking down Christmas decorations so they will not be destroyed in the storm. Regret having awakened him and then stomp inside and trip over the cat. Feed the furry little demon and stomp back outside to help. Return inside one hour later with frost-bitten fingers. Upon observing your frozen-in-more-ways-than-one expression, husband wonders why he is awake so early on his day off. Stare at the tangle of lights littering your kitchen floor and puzzle about where you are going to store them since they never fit back inside their boxes. Get trash bag, shove all decorations inside, toss into a corner of the basement and decide to worry about it next Christmas.

Step five: After thawing frozen fingers, go in search of your husband (and writing partner). Look in his office. Bedroom. Bathroom. Garage. Where the bleep is that man? Find him in the basement. He explains that since it is snowing it will be a great day to clean out the basement. Explain that you thought it would be a good day to write. He explains that he is already involved in the project. You explain that you really, really want to work on the book. He looks dubiously at the piles of magazines and boxes surrounding him. You refrain from asking why he didn’t clean the basement all the other times you asked and has to do it NOW. He wonders why you aren’t excited about him doing something you have been after him to do and once again asks himself what he is doing awake so early on his day off.

Step six: Be more convincing. Suggest lighting a fire and making tea. Mention Christmas cookies. Finally say, “I. Want. To. Work. On. The. Book.” Husband finally understands that you want to work on the book rather than clean out the basement. Both stomp back upstairs.

Step seven: Channeling the anger, irritability and general grumpiness of both parties you plot a killer battle scene for your new book. And a great argument chapter for the hero and heroine. Work up a nice episode of evilness for the villain. A planet explodes. Someone threatens the galaxy and then the universe. Then spend the remainder of the time arguing about irrational character motivations and illogical thought processes because no one in real life would ever act THAT WAY.

Step eight: Realize it is probably going to snow for another 24 hours. Decide the cat has the right idea and a nap in front of the fire is a really good idea. Ignore husband’s that’s-all-I-wanted-to-do-today-anyway look.

So, How Do Two Authors Write as One?

It’s the question we are asked most frequently. How do two people write one book? How do we create the plot? Write the chapters? Achieve one voice? And (the most frequently asked question of all) how do a husband and wife manage to do all this without killing each other?

The answer: it ain’t easy! At first, actually, it was easy. When Joe was in college he had a great idea for a story. He met Mary, who loved to write. We met twice a week, on Wednesdays and Sundays, to plot the book and flesh out the characters. We decided to write alternate chapters, Joe chapter one, Mary chapter two and so on. And it worked great for awhile. Then we hit a major stumbling block. We got married.

Who would have thought that living at the same address would put such a crimp in our writing? But it did. We were managing a household. We acquired two cats. Three years later the baby arrived. It’s not that we were busier than when we were in college. We both had carried full course loads, worked full-time, and pursued other activities, yet we managed to make time for our writing sessions twice a week for three years without fail.

After our daughter was born, we realized that living in the same house made us feel we could write any old time. We saw each other every day. We didn’t need to schedule our writing sessions anymore! We could work on the book whenever we wished. And pigs would fly, too. Lesson number one: The truth was, we DID need to schedule time for writing.

So schedule we did. The baby was amazingly cooperative. She would sit with us during these sessions and watch us carefully as if she were attending a lecture on how to write. (Maybe she was. She taught herself to read at age four and at age sixteen is thinking of writing her own book. But that’s another blog.) We came up with some great new plot ideas and decided to rewrite the entire story.

Plotting, by the way, has never been a problem for us, married or not. We’re both very visual and think of our book chapters as scenes in a movie, which is probably why those who have read Time’s Edge say it would be great on the big screen. The rule of our plotting sessions are simple: Anything goes. There is no nay-saying, no buts, no critiques. Plotting, for us, is simply brainstorming at its finest. Every idea is written down, every scene saved. No idea is rejected at this point, even if it doesn’t seem to fit into the story. Our motto is you never know when something will be useful.

And the actual writing? When we first began writing together, we approached the division of labor in a very orderly, business-like way. We would take our outline and each write every other chapter. Neat. Orderly. Simple. However, there was a shift after we married. Perhaps we felt less shy about expressing our writing preferences. Perhaps the change in the plot altered how we viewed the process. Perhaps there was no reason other than the longing we had to write certain chapters. Mary was coveting the humorous party scene where the characters overindulge in wine and the party becomes a little too merry. Joe was lusting after the space battle.

So the negotiations began. I’ll trade you the space battle for the party scene. The meeting-the-monster chapter for the lost-in-the-maze part. The descriptions of the Galactic Armed Forces base? Yawn. It’s yours. The kissing stuff? Yuck. You can have it. We soon discovered that, for the most part, we each weren’t writing entire chapters anymore. Joe would begin a chapter, Mary would finish it. Mary would write a scene and Joe would pick it up and run with it.

Yes, we know the next question: What about the scenes we both want to write? Well, we both write them. Yes, we sit down and each write our own version of the same scene. This works very well for us. Sometimes one version is a clear winner (no smugness allowed). Most of the time, though, we blend the two. A snippet of dialogue from this one, a chunk of description from that one. An enlightened cooperation, you might say.

Now on to editing. This is the toughest part of being a writing team. We have to criticize without being mean (the phrase “this sucks” has been banned from our writing sessions) and without dragging in other things going on in our lives. (“You can’t have the heroine climb to the top of a seven-story building to rescue the baby space alien. She’s afraid of heights.” “Sorry, I forgot.” “Yeah, just like you keep forgetting to fix the bathroom sink.”)

We also have to try and not take critiques personally. This is the hardest part of all. Ask any writer. Criticism can be painful even when it falls under the term “constructive”. Now try to imagine criticism of your writing by your significant other. Ouch! Or you get really, really pissed off. To make matters worse, we’re both perfectionists so editing can be brutal. A person attending one of our book talks once asked Joe how he goes about editing Mary’s work. “From a safe distance,” he replied.

In spite of all this, we manged to produce Time’s Edge, the first book in the Time’s Edge series. It won a Tassy Walden Award from the Shoreline Arts Alliance of Connecticut and was published in the Fall of 2010. We have since published five books in the series: Time’s Edge, Time’s Secret, Time’s Illusion, Time’s Rebels, and Time’s Warriors. We are currently working on Time’s Guardians. It will be available in 2015 if we don’t kill each other during the editing process.

See also: Two Writers, One Voice, Ten Tips