Definition:
A beginner in learning; a novice.
Usage:
Though I was a mere tyro, the accomplished skiers were kind enough to ski around me when I crashed, which averaged about every five minutes.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Word of the Week #77
tyro - [TY-roh] - noun
Definition:
A beginner in learning; a novice.
Usage:
Though I was a mere tyro, the accomplished skiers were kind enough to ski around me when I crashed, which averaged about every five minutes.
Definition:
A beginner in learning; a novice.
Usage:
Though I was a mere tyro, the accomplished skiers were kind enough to ski around me when I crashed, which averaged about every five minutes.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The plague of Writer Brain
I've suspected this for a long time, but after last weekend I think it's official: I suffer from Writer Brain.
I think it began when I started watching people and thinking things like, How would I describe the way that man walks? or Ooo, look at that woman chewing on a piece of hair without even realizing it, I'm going to use that. Then I started carrying a little notebook to scribble down things like a description of the teenager I saw in the weight room that looks just like what would happen if someone turned a bull dog into a human. I notice how some people always look at your chin when you talk to them, or how one woman walks around the track with her head tilted to the side, like she's leaning into the curves.
Phase two was when I became a chronic eavesdropper, like the time two construction workers outside my house got into an argument and I sat right next to the open window so I could hear better. I listen in on others' cell phone conversations and imagine what the person on the other end is saying. If two people are having a lover's quarrel I inch closer, and I'll end my own arguments quickly sometimes so I can run off and take notes.
The next stage was when I started thinking "What If?" all the time. Like the other week when my children told me about their friend's dog that pees when he gets excited. What if a person had that character trait? Imagine the situations and neuroses that would arise out of that? I even said it something like that out loud. After my kids looked at me in surprise, they jumped right in the game of What If? (I'm sorry, guys. You have no chance, really, with the mom you've got.)
Then last weekend I was with a group of friends who were talking about a tragedy several years ago where a husband hired a hit man to kill his wife. The wife happened to be the cousin of one of my friends. So everyone was talking about how horrible it all was, etc. in appropriate somber tones.
And I was thinking, How would someone find a hit man to hire? If you were just a normal, good Christian guy, where would you even start looking for one? And then how would you do it so the police wouldn't find you? My mind was racing on the logistics of how that would even work out, in case I ever wanted to use that in a story.
Without realizing it I had said my thoughts out loud. There was silence as everyone turned to look at me. "I mean, what a horrible thing! I can't believe people are really like that," I quickly said to cover up my faux pas.
But really, how would someone like me go about finding a hit man? Where would I even start? I guess I'd have to ask the shadiest person I know, hoping that they'd know someone who knew someone? Or are there sites online where hit men post their resumes? Maybe they don't post their resumes but just put down GPS coordinates that will lead to a place with their contact information, like Geocaching for hit men...
**Note: I am not planning to hire a hit man. Really. I'm not.
Please don't hate me, I'm just a victim of Writer Brain.
I think it began when I started watching people and thinking things like, How would I describe the way that man walks? or Ooo, look at that woman chewing on a piece of hair without even realizing it, I'm going to use that. Then I started carrying a little notebook to scribble down things like a description of the teenager I saw in the weight room that looks just like what would happen if someone turned a bull dog into a human. I notice how some people always look at your chin when you talk to them, or how one woman walks around the track with her head tilted to the side, like she's leaning into the curves.
Phase two was when I became a chronic eavesdropper, like the time two construction workers outside my house got into an argument and I sat right next to the open window so I could hear better. I listen in on others' cell phone conversations and imagine what the person on the other end is saying. If two people are having a lover's quarrel I inch closer, and I'll end my own arguments quickly sometimes so I can run off and take notes.
The next stage was when I started thinking "What If?" all the time. Like the other week when my children told me about their friend's dog that pees when he gets excited. What if a person had that character trait? Imagine the situations and neuroses that would arise out of that? I even said it something like that out loud. After my kids looked at me in surprise, they jumped right in the game of What If? (I'm sorry, guys. You have no chance, really, with the mom you've got.)
Then last weekend I was with a group of friends who were talking about a tragedy several years ago where a husband hired a hit man to kill his wife. The wife happened to be the cousin of one of my friends. So everyone was talking about how horrible it all was, etc. in appropriate somber tones.
And I was thinking, How would someone find a hit man to hire? If you were just a normal, good Christian guy, where would you even start looking for one? And then how would you do it so the police wouldn't find you? My mind was racing on the logistics of how that would even work out, in case I ever wanted to use that in a story.
Without realizing it I had said my thoughts out loud. There was silence as everyone turned to look at me. "I mean, what a horrible thing! I can't believe people are really like that," I quickly said to cover up my faux pas.
But really, how would someone like me go about finding a hit man? Where would I even start? I guess I'd have to ask the shadiest person I know, hoping that they'd know someone who knew someone? Or are there sites online where hit men post their resumes? Maybe they don't post their resumes but just put down GPS coordinates that will lead to a place with their contact information, like Geocaching for hit men...
**Note: I am not planning to hire a hit man. Really. I'm not.
Please don't hate me, I'm just a victim of Writer Brain.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Lowering the Bar
I've talked about rough drafts and embracing the crap before, but it's taken on a whole new meaning as I'm cranking out words for NaNoWriMo. It is taking sheer will to ignore the "to be" verbs, the passive voice, and the shoddy sentences. But I'm doing it! And forging ahead. (Just past the half-way mark. Woot!)
Whenever I get the urge to go back and fix something I try and remember how much time that wastes, because I just need to get this first draft finished. Then I can revise to my heart's content, and whine about it then.
But for now, I'm lowering the bar.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Book Review: An Angel on Main Street by Kathi Oram Peterson
It snowed over the weekend, and so that makes it the perfect time for:
A) snow boots
B) hot chocolate
C) fuzzy slippers, electric blankets, and sweats
D) another Christmas book review
E) all of the above
If you guessed E) then you're right on. (Good for you!) I'll have to let you take care of your own A-C because I can't help you out a whole lot on that, but I can take care of D) for you.
Today's Christmas book review is An Angel on Main Street by Kathi Oram Peterson.
From the back cover:
Micah Connors promised his mother he would be good in their new town. But with Christmas only three days away, being escorted home by the sheriff does not bode well. Can the towering officer be trusted not to tell what happened? Perhaps the ramshackle stable that has appeared on Main Street will sidetrack him from spilling the day’s events — or maybe his interest in Micah’s widowed mother will do the trick. The last thing Dawn Connors needs is to hear her son is in trouble. She has enough to worry about with her husband gone and her daughter, Annie, ill.
Even though Micah has told his sister the rustic structure in the middle of town is simply part of the town’s holiday decorations, Annie is sure that unseen angels are building the crude stable — which means baby Jesus is coming, and he can make her better. Terrified that his little sister might die, Micah vows to find the baby Jesus for Annie, even if it is only a plastic doll. But as Micah gets nearer to his goal he finds angels are closer than he ever would have believed.
An Angel on Main Street fits perfectly in the uplifting, Christmas feel-good-and-be-thankful-for-your-blessings niche. And its short enough and a smooth enough read that it won't knock you over into the "Ahhh!-I'll-never-get-this-finished-just-like-I-won't-finish-my-Christmas-shopping-and-I'm-now-a-ball-of-stress" that happens so often during the holidays. (But then, I might just be projecting my own issues.)
I appreciate Kathi Oram Peterson's reminder that there are angels that surround us and live next to us every day. And that sometimes we are the ones called on to be the angels. I recommend An Angel on Main Street for a nostalgic Christmas read with a good message. You can find out more about Kathi on her website.
And because I love my blog readers, here you go:
A)
B)
C)
A) snow boots
B) hot chocolate
C) fuzzy slippers, electric blankets, and sweats
D) another Christmas book review
E) all of the above
If you guessed E) then you're right on. (Good for you!) I'll have to let you take care of your own A-C because I can't help you out a whole lot on that, but I can take care of D) for you.
Today's Christmas book review is An Angel on Main Street by Kathi Oram Peterson.From the back cover:
Micah Connors promised his mother he would be good in their new town. But with Christmas only three days away, being escorted home by the sheriff does not bode well. Can the towering officer be trusted not to tell what happened? Perhaps the ramshackle stable that has appeared on Main Street will sidetrack him from spilling the day’s events — or maybe his interest in Micah’s widowed mother will do the trick. The last thing Dawn Connors needs is to hear her son is in trouble. She has enough to worry about with her husband gone and her daughter, Annie, ill.
Even though Micah has told his sister the rustic structure in the middle of town is simply part of the town’s holiday decorations, Annie is sure that unseen angels are building the crude stable — which means baby Jesus is coming, and he can make her better. Terrified that his little sister might die, Micah vows to find the baby Jesus for Annie, even if it is only a plastic doll. But as Micah gets nearer to his goal he finds angels are closer than he ever would have believed.
An Angel on Main Street fits perfectly in the uplifting, Christmas feel-good-and-be-thankful-for-your-blessings niche. And its short enough and a smooth enough read that it won't knock you over into the "Ahhh!-I'll-never-get-this-finished-just-like-I-won't-finish-my-Christmas-shopping-and-I'm-now-a-ball-of-stress" that happens so often during the holidays. (But then, I might just be projecting my own issues.)
I appreciate Kathi Oram Peterson's reminder that there are angels that surround us and live next to us every day. And that sometimes we are the ones called on to be the angels. I recommend An Angel on Main Street for a nostalgic Christmas read with a good message. You can find out more about Kathi on her website.
And because I love my blog readers, here you go:
A)
B)C)
Monday, November 16, 2009
Word of the Week #76
bombinate - [BOM-buh-nayt] - intransitive verb
Definition:
To buzz; to hum; to drone.
Usage:
Throughout the month of November, computers across the world bombinate late into the night or at the early hours of morning as thousands of NaNoWriMo writers type like mad.
Definition:
To buzz; to hum; to drone.
Usage:
Throughout the month of November, computers across the world bombinate late into the night or at the early hours of morning as thousands of NaNoWriMo writers type like mad.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Like Twilight? Give Firelight A Try.
If you haven't seen it, here's a hilarious SNL parody of Twilight starring Taylor Swift. My hubby, who's never read Twilight or seen the movie, even laughed.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Work in Progress Letter of Apology
Dear Blogosphere,
I must apologize for my neglect the last little while. You see, I'm doing this
To all the blogs stacking up in Google Reader, I'm sorry. I will probably neglect you for a few more weeks, and by then I'll probably have 2000 un-read posts and might just have to clear them all and start over. But I'm sure your blogs are great.
To all my bloggy friends who are still posting awesome blogs while racking up insane wordcounts in NaNoWriMo, I'm sorry. You won't see many comments from me, but know I still love you. And you make me sick--in a purely loving, writer-crush kind of way.
To my own blog with its dashboard full of half-written, meaty, content-filled posts on Twitter, habits of successful writers, and other topics oozing profundity, I'm sorry. Please bear with me. Once I don't feel like brain cells are oozing out my ear by lunchtime I will finish you all--pinky promise. But maybe not until December, because not many writer-types would be reading them until then anyway.
To my husband who would like to play a leisurely game of whatever on the computer without his wife hovering and giving him the evil eye, I'm sorry. I know the computer isn't mine, just mostly mine. And I'll try and take my twitchiness in the other room.
To my butt that has spent a lot of time parked in the computer chair, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for the treadmill workout this morning. But you are spending a lot of time parked in the computer chair.
To my Christmas shopping list and my yard work and my basement, I'm sorry. I'll get to you before Christmas. At least I hope I will.
To my friends and neighbors who I walk right past without acknowledging, I'm sorry. I'm not really being snooty, I'm just concentrating on stuff like plot points and character arc. Just peek at the contents in my shopping cart and if they look totally random then chances are I'm in my own book world.
To my Twitter followers who've had to endure some really weird tweets the last week, I'm sorry. I'm blowing off steam and I *think* I make sense, even though sometimes I don't.
To my main character who just got made a complete fool of by genetically engineered kittens, I'm NOT sorry. And you better buckle up, buddy, cause it's going to be a bumpy ride!
Warmest regards,
Jaime, a.k.a. Bookmom
P.S. I'm at 14,000 words into my Zero Draft for NaNo (I like calling it a Zero Draft, because that first draft is really so horrible it almost doesn't deserve the title First Draft, and then you don't beat yourself up so much about yucky writing when it's only a Zero Draft). And I'm also at about 6,000 words of Dragon Wrangler, where my co-author is sending me her Zero Draft and I'm making some revisions and hopefully nudging it over into a First Draft.
P.P.S. Anyone else feel like they need to apologize this month?
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