Moving Day Part 3

Decided to keep my blog here for the time being. Yes, I know, I'm fickle. Hopefully the post-production work on Plans will be done soon and I can get around to whoring it shamelessly around Chicago. As for the moment, I'm finally working again on my next story.

You may or may not know about my little cat Bucky, who passed away at the end of August. He was the world's worst editor but the world's best writing buddy. Since he's been gone, I've had trouble getting myself back into the swing of writing. I had half a synopsis and no motivation to finish it or start the story itself.

Today I got an email from Tim Locke of Calhoun fame answering my 1001 questions about the music business. Yesterday I got an email from Lynn with sketches of my new MFC and MMC. Add in a song from Ted Leo on iTunes and all of a sudden I'm rarin' to go again.

Shifting between writing the last third of the synopsis and emailing an old friend who is in a band about the music aspect of it. Have to remember to ask my shrink about inpatient facilities at Rush and St. Elizabeth. I wonder if he'd be willing to let me go on some sort of a tour. If nothing else, it would serve as a reminder of why I need to take my medication without fail and on time.

Things to Do When You're Sick

Apparently one of them is to go through an old idea I had in college and assess its potential as an actual story.

Unlike some of my other things, I actually do see worth in it. It needs some serious overhaul, cleanup and expansion of just about every scene and chapter. The "manuscript" was only 194 pages handwritten and Plans was 340 single-space typed, so that should give you some idea of how much needs to be reworked.

I'm also considering using NaNoWriMo as a way to kick myself in the ass and get one of these other stories started. I've got most of an outline and some detailed character sketches ready. I just need to do it, you know?

Moving Day Part 2

Created Process is Moving!
Keep up with the weirdness at my new mini-website until I get a regular website!

<3's
Natalie

Method Writing II

Sent out a handful of emails to different sources asking different questions about psych wards, music rights, car maintenance and more. All, of course, in the name of research. I always feel so weird emailing people out of the blue and saying "you don't know me, but I need to know this for a story I'm writing." At least if I had some sort of publishing cred, they'd actually answer me.

Also, I know that being put on new medication isn't exactly something to write home about but this one might be useful in the long run. See, it's an antipsychotic (I don't think I like the implications) and my new MFC is kind of not right in the head and I'd been researching that particular class of drugs. Now I get to experience them firsthand. I'm sure Hunter S. Thompson was thinking the same thing at some point...

HARDCORE

Two days ago I noticed a strange pain in my index finger while at the day job. "How odd," I thought, bending my finger to try and clear it. "I haven't done anything more strenuous than drawing blood in the last four hours." By the time I left work, the pain had progressed to a burning sensation that went from my index finger to my wrist. I was understandably worried. I mean, my right hand is pretty crucial to just about everything I do, particularly writing and typing.

As soon as I got home, I looked up tendinitis on Wikipedia and found my symptoms almost word for word. I checked WebMD and discovered that the only treatment is rest and ibuprofen. So, like any rational person, I put a mini ice pack in a sock and strapped it to my hand with some cloth tape I found in the first aid kit. Then I went back to typing that outline. Today I've been wrapping it with an Ace bandage and icing it when I can.

Sorry, online medical advice. You can pry my keyboard out of my cold, dead hands.

In other news, my "office area" has been totally trashed. This is the result of my repeated searches through the pile for paper to scratch down ideas and the need to flip through an old draft of something to find out a character's last name or the date. I really need to get some sort of desk or at least a file box. I'm also going to have to start putting legal pads in all the rooms again. I can't keep running back and forth from the shower to the makeshift office to write things like shift POV here and tight jeans totally out of character for MMC.

Outline Blues

I absolutely hate writing outlines. Over the years, though, I've learned that they are a necessary evil. Without them, your story can meander off in all directions and you can end up writing the same part twice or leaving out crucial plot development. You can also call the same person three different names by mistake. That is why detailed character sketches are also important. Character sketches are less hateful because you get to write out the little quirks and snips about your characters that you need to know to write them effectively, but that no one else will ever see. Outlines, on the other hand, only make me want to start writing the actual chapters.

As a result, I dart back and forth between my outline and another open file where I scratch out ideas and scenes that I don't want to forget while I'm trying to map out the story. The outline for Plans ended up being 43 pages long and took me almost a month and a half to write. I'm sure it wouldn't have taken as long if I wasn't so damn flighty when it comes to this part.

Plans is on hold until I can get the beta copies printed, and I've resolved not to read it through again until I get those copies and can read it along with my readers. This is partly as a show of solidarity for their pain, but more so because I've read it so many times I've started to imagine I've used the same phrase seven or eight times when I really only used it once. It's time to take a step back and let it breathe for a couple of weeks, no matter how much I adore my little sprites.

Still Kicking Around...

This is what a massive overhaul of an old idea for a story that you think you might be able to salvage looks like. Isn't that awesome?

Got some really bad news about one of my cats today so I haven't been able to do any actual thinking. Instead, I just keep going through this old manuscriptlet and gutting it of whatever good ideas were inside. There are a couple (they're in the highlighted bits).

A friend's friend who is also a writer got extremely lucky today. He shared a cab with a random guy and forgot his lunchbox when he left. Inside the lunchbox, among other things, was a notebook containing all his ideas and notes. Because sometimes things really do work out all right, my friend was looking on Craig's List and happened to see a post from the guy who found the lunchbox and wanted to return it to him. Who says there aren't any good people in the Windy City?

Deja View

Now that I've finished editing Plans, I have informed my beta readers that they can look forward to being tormented by mid-July. Since I have to always be writing something or risk losing my mind, I'm working on getting things together for a new project. Since it took me between six and eight weeks to write the outline and do some of the research for Plans, I don't expect to actually get down to writing on this one until after I've submitted the first one to some indie publishers or made a decision about self-publishing.

Now I'm writing (re-writing?) the outline for the new story and am already getting obsessed with it. This is actually a story I wrote most of and then abandoned and covered with sand. I've gutted it, rewritten the ideas for most of it and reworked MFC so much that I'm actually having trouble writing her because she's pretty far from any of my other female characters, personality wise. Also changed MMC a little and giving SMC2 a much bigger and more ambiguous role.

It feels so huge and overwhelming, but at the same time it's exciting. This is the same way I felt when I was mapping out Plans. Now I love my characters so much that I actually dream about them and have their character sketches in my work locker, courtesy of a good friend. It's really for the best that I don't take a break between stories. Studies show that idle neurons lead to reruns of Flavor of Love, you know. *shudder*

Beta Female

Well, that's that. I finally finished the last of my edits of the alpha draft of the story. I can't help but feel a little anticlimactic, yet at the same time I'm nervous because as soon as I get enough cash together, I'm going to print out eight copies and send them to my beta readers along with the supplemental booklet for the final spin through the rock tumbler.

Since they're my friends, I know that they're not going to be cruel in their criticism or say anything hurtful but I can't get over this "stage fright"-like feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want them to like it, but I want them to honestly tell me if they don't like it because then I can more accurately judge the marketability of it and hopefully change it for the better. Also, I want to be able to tell potential publishers/agents that I'm not the only one who's gone over it with a fine tooth comb: I've had a group of people from ages 23-40, including both men and women, from all walks of life (Mary Kay consultant, video game developer, single mom, Starbucks manager, waitress, factory office worker, veterinary technician) go through it and they have deemed it acceptable. Or at least I hope they will.

I feel kind of nauseous.

Also seriously looking into an actual, professional website that will serve as an attempt to create an online presence for myself in the event I end up self-publishing. Even if I don't, I think potential publishers or bookstores that might stock my book would be encouraged to take a chance on someone who is an intelligent adult who's focused on her work (Please God don't let them find my Livejournal). A friend gave me a line on an inexpensive but good web hosting service and I have another friend who codes websites for "fun." Php, SQL, Rubyonrails...these things mean nothing to me. Last but not least, I'm putting feelers out to actual designers for graphics. This is exhausting. And I don't even know if this story's going to go anywhere yet.

On a completely unrelated topic that makes me so giddy I'm kind of lightheaded --- there is a possibility, however slim, that The George Romero might read Minor Side Effects. I'm not getting my hopes up, though.

Fruit of One's Labor?

I was having one of those moments this morning where you wonder if it's all worth it. I'm almost finished with alpha2 and was thinking about getting the beta copies printed, sending them out to beta readers, getting the feedback (which may or may not be terrifying), re-editing and then sending it to publishers who may or may not tell me that I'm a hack and don't deserve to live, let alone write anything.

Mulberry trees, or one black mulberry tree in particular, play an important role in my story for two of the three main characters and is directly related to the third. They also tie in with the mythos of Pyramus and Thisbe, the fated lovers whose blood stained the berries of the mulberry tree after their double suicide.

Just now I went outside to take the recycling to the bin and discovered an enormous black mulberry tree in the alley of my apartment's property. I picked a whole bowl of them and am eating them while I edit. Sometimes I get the feeling something is trying to tell me something.

More Rambling

I was thinking more about the self-publishing route and wondering if I'm too self conscious and/or lazy for this. Then something hit me like an overused simile. Indie publishing companies. They've got enough cred to make people think I didn't just slap a pile of words on some paper and call it a novel, but are still small enough to let me have some control over what I'm writing as long as I'm selling. And, as I said in the other post, I will sell. Even if it means I'll have to walk from bookstore to bookstore in the cold Chicago night carrying a satchel of my books.

Which brings me to the question: if the story's still in beta and the small press says it'll take them at least 8 weeks to reply to a query, should I query now with the aside that it is being edited by outside parties and will be done by X date or wait until it is done and possibly miss the submission window? Hm.

No, I Am Not Dead

I'm just resting without the internet.
As an added bonus, here is a picture of the tragicomedy that is currently passing for an office in my apartment. Yes, it IS a corner of my bedroom! You get the cookie.

On the plus side, it has given me a lot of time to finish the first alpha edit of the story and move on to the second alpha reading, in which I go through it and find all the little plot points and inconsistencies that would make someone reading it go "what?"

Other than that, not much else going on in the world of the aspiring hack. I had Kinko's bind up my alpha2 copy so I can read it, then I went back and had them bind up all my old notes and background stuff for posterity. It's much easier to find things this way. I think I'll start doing it for all my stuff.

Have also been considering the possibility of serious self-publishing. I love the idea of being able to have complete control over my own work, but I do not love the idea of having to pimp myself out. I am a very poor saleswoman. However, I could see myself going to SPX and Ladyfest and all those street fairs to sell my wares. I might even be able to convince some local merchants to sell my books on consignment for a trial run. It seems attractive when I consider that an agent or big publisher might make me change my work.

In the end, I do not write these things because I want to become famous. I have a decent job that I don't hate going to in the morning. All I want is for people to read my stories and be entertained, even if it's just for a few hours. Even if they forget about it later. I really just like making people happy. *teary*

Text from an actual review of one of my stories:
I thought that the beauty-drug-gone-wrong was a cool take on the zombie genre. This book was well put together and easy to read. Not a lot of zombie-fighting action or gore, but a really good story nonetheless. If you're a fan of zombie stories, I recommend picking this book up. The author is able to tell a good story about--let's face it--some rather cheesy subject matter, and instead of turning out like a goofy B-movie, it turns out as a well-written story.

Plans: Drawn

Finally finished going through Part Three with a fine tooth comb. When I was writing it, I wondered if the conflict between MMC2 and MFC was really enough to warrant the kind of reaction she had. Now that I read it, it does seem like something that could happen. Not to mention that R tells me that “people break up over stupider shit all the time.” He is truly a wise man.

Now all I have to do is go back to the beginning of the story and insert the changes, rewrite the bits that need help and try my damnedest not to put in any extra chapters. After that, I’m going to get it all printed up and coil bound so I can do a reading of the complete story (alpha) before I write the supplemental booklet and send it out with the pseudo-galleys to my very patient beta readers and brace myself for the onslaught of criticism that is sure to follow. I really hope this all pays off at some point.

Also, I did some of what I like to refer to as “inadvertent research” at work. Meaning that I eavesdropped on a conversation and got proof that some of the things I’d written were indeed plausible. A very sweet girl was in a long-term relationship that suddenly ended and is now having trouble referring to her current significant other as her “boyfriend.” Is it my co-worker or my MFC? The world may never know.

Wait, what?

This has nothing to do with anything, except for the fact that I shared the 6:00 Irving Park bus with a kid that was the living equivalent of Nathan, age 14 (aka MMC2). I couldn't stop looking at him over my book and I couldn't look at him directly because it would be really creepy for me to openly stare at the kid. Can you imagine that conversation?

Me: Oh good lord. You look just like I imagine the 14 year old version of a character in a story that I wrote would look.

Kid: Who are you?

Me: Can I take a picture of you for reference?

Kid: I'm calling the cops now.

This, combined with the fact that I told someone I was going to hit Falafel Palace for lunch (when it exists only in my apparently diseased brain), makes me wonder if it's time to up my medication. I did have a falafel sandwich for lunch, though. At a non-fictional place.

Do I Know Me or What?

Just as I suspected, I am much less productive when I'm holding down a job and trying to find an apartment. I wish I could say I'd already finished editing Part Three, but it's just not happening right now. Not that I don't love it, or that I shouldn't be doing it right now instead of typing, but as we all know, things happen.

Was flipping through it last night and realized that the last three chapters need some serious love. They're not unreadable by any stretch of the imagination, but it's obvious (to me at least) that I was trying to get it finished and into the editing stage with the thought that I could always make it better later. There are some things that need extending and some things that need to be cut and still others that need to be added.

Sometimes I feel like this is never going to be finished.

Foundation: Laid

Last night I finished editing Part Two, only to think of something that was still a little off about Part One. So once again I went back to it, rolled it over in my mind, and changed a couple of details that resulted in my having to go back through most of it and rework it to fit those details. I'm sure I missed something somewhere. Oh well, that's why I'll be reading it again.

I did find a bit in Part Two that I forgot I put in, but was pleased with because it alludes to something that MMC2 doesn't actually go into detail about until Part Three. Not sure if this was because I had his character planned so well or because I subconsciously remembered that I wrote the first part and wrote the second part to go with it. It's also possible that it was just a fortunate coincidence.

Once I finish editing Part Three I get to go back on the computer and make the technical and basic changes I indicated (approximately 900,000 of them), then have it printed up so I can read through it again and make any changes that affect the flow of the story before I send it out to the beta readers. I really hope all this editorial effort helps me find an agent/publisher when I'm done.

Back to Basics

Finished the shiny new chapter and slipped it into place. At first I wasn't sure about it, but by the time I was done I liked it quite a bit. It also plays well with its neighbors, which is important in the long run.

This, of course, means that last night I was back to editing. To the right is what a typical page looks like after my highlighter, pen and sticky tabs are through with it. Impressive? That's not what I heard.

At the rate I'm going, I should have the whole thing edited and cleaned up by June. Then I'm going to reprint the alpha-edited product (about $25 at Kinkos, which is about what it would cost me to buy an ink cartridge) and read it for coherency before I get it printed up and mailed to the beta readers.

Note to self: pick up 9x12 envelopes, 6x9 envelopes, stamps, staples and a new lorazepam scrip. This one's gonna be a fighter.

Not Again

Walking home from the bus yesterday I realized that, much to my dismay, I need to add another chapter. The thought made me want to curl into a ball under the L and wait for someone to murder me and steal my sushi.

Upon editing Part One, I felt like something was missing. I wrote Part One kind of short because it's supposed to convey a sense of urgency and the fact that MMC1 and FMC's relationship was very brief. However, I realized that I didn't go into as much detail as I should have about the way they interact with each other and with other people when they're together. One chapter should suffice, and I know exactly where to place it. I even wrote part of it before I went to bed last night. I just thought I was done with this business.

Yay editing.

Connection: Made

Finished deep editing the first part of the story and already I am out of orange sticky tabs. It would seem that when I left this draft out on the table overnight it became infested with commas. The dang things are multiplying like rabbits.

When I'm finished correcting these small pieces of idiocy, I think I'd really like to read the thing again as a cohesive whole before I send it off to other people to make sure it flows the way I think it should. Also because I'm kind of enjoying it.

I really hope this doesn't make me a narcissist. I don't think it does, though, because when I read it I don't think of it as something I wrote. I just think of it as something I'm enjoying, even though I know what's going to happen. That might not make sense, but I've been staring at a computer screen and a giant manuscript alternately all day and I'm getting a little punchy.

Moving Day

Moving to Chicago today. Editing on the train. Going to need more sticky tabs.

Comfortably Numb

It's done. Topped out at 322 pages, over 183,000 words and 66 chapters. I worked up the idea and started the outline on December 7 of last year and now it is finally done. The first draft, anyway.

I don't know whether I should laugh or cry. Maybe I'll just sit here and watch Harvey Keitel shuffle-kick Steve Buscemi around an abandoned warehouse. Again. Before the worry sets in.

Worrisome things include whether or not I'm going to read this thing and realize I need to insert a chapter here or there to make sense of some stuff. Historically, I am not the best person to make this kind of judgment. There is always the possibility that after I read it my hands are going to want to throw it in a fire.

All joking aside, I think this might be the best thing I've ever written. I've re-read a random bit here or there and there's nothing that's made me groan with embarrassment. In fact, every time I've picked it up to read through it I've started out with trepidation in my heart and ended up getting engrossed in the story. I don't know if that means it's good or I'm self-absorbed. This is why I have beta readers.

Starting tomorrow, I'm in alpha.

Palpitations = Bad

If I was ten years younger and/or had a tolerance for Red Bull, there would be a strong possibility that I would be able to finish this story tonight. When I was in college all-nighters were not only routine, they were fun. Unfortunately, I am old and energy drinks might make my heart explode. So as it stands, I'm still shooting for having the first draft finished by Friday.

Go me.

Can't Spell Ungainly Without "U"

Reached 300 pages last night. Here's the first exchange from that particular page:

“What about the squid ink?”
“I don’t care,” she said, taking off the sweater and tying it around her waist. She was burning up. “It probably tastes like shit anyway.”
“This is exactly why men don’t go to the bathroom together,” Nathan said, patiently untying the sweater from her waist and putting it over his arm. “Should I be calling your lawyer? Transferring large sums of bail money to my account before they freeze yours?”

Not as classic as the "my kitten's a whore" line, but it'll do. It also occurred to me when I was writing last night that I'm probably going to be able to finish this first draft before I leave for Chicago if I really put my mind to it. Lucky for me that I really love putting my mind to it when it's something like this.

Of course, it doesn't stop me from freaking out about various and sundry items such as whether or not a person would actually flip out over her boyfriend saying something shitty (I would, but I'm nuts), or if digging Xanax out of a vacuum bag is really funny or just tragic.

Yesterday I had a handful of Oreos and a glass of milk for lunch. Today I'm having a glass of sweet tea and some peanut butter crackers. The current theme is "things you can eat with one hand while you edit with the other." One day they will find me dead in my apartment with a highlighter and a manuscript, a half-eaten bag of Sun Chips by my hand and cats swarming over me like ants. Perhaps I should take up smoking.

Final Stretch

Some days you're really productive. Other days you spend 45 minutes dancing around the apartment to Kanye West and hoping ideas will come to you. Then you start going through your iPod and choosing theme songs for your main characters.

This morning, when I was running through the apartment in a towel looking for a notepad so I could write down an idea I had in the shower before I forgot it, I realized that if I really put my mind to it I can finish the first draft of this story before I leave for Chicago. I can't help but feel a little ambivalent about the idea. I've been working on this story since last December. I have a pile of notes, research, timelines (see Figure 1) and a printout of my rough draft thus far that you could use to beat rats to death. I even have some awesome character sketches courtesy of my buddy Lynn. You'd think I'd be ready.

Instead, I'm terrified. Part of me feels that I'll be relieved when it's done, but a bigger part is afraid that I won't know what to do now that I'm not writing it. Yet another part of me is looking forward to the editing process because it'll give me a chance to get to know my characters in a completely different way; the observer rather than the creator. Even then I won't really be done - it'll go to beta and I'll have to edit again before I start sending out queries with $20 bills tucked into them in an attempt to find an agent/publisher. So what am I worried about?

Oh, Kanye. You've failed me.

That Part Everyone Hates

The part where the oh-so-hip blogster explains why they're here and why you should absolutely adore them.

Screw that.

This is the place where I'm going to unload all the angst, spite and love I have for the manuscript I've been laboring over for the last five months, and which is rushing at an uncomfortably quick pace toward its conclusion. Trust me, there is going to be angst.

You've been warned.