All fair in Love and... writing?

The house next door to mine burned down on Thanksgiving night. I mean it's gone. We stepped outside, heard the snap and pop and then saw the flames and watched as the fire department used pumper trucks because of a problem with the hydrants. It was unlike anything I've ever seen. My son video taped it - he just got a new camera - and after a little bit, he put the camera down and said he thought that was enough.
He just knew it.

I'm not sure that as writers we come with that built in, "that's enough, that's too far, that's not fodder for future writing" voice in our heads. My kids have had to, at times, warn me that whatever they had just said or done or were going through was NOT going to end up in my writing. I agreed and honored that but I didn't get it.

Myself, when I was rushed to the ER after a reaction to medicine stopped my heart, I frustrated the docs there because whenever they left me for even a few minutes, my sensors went off and they couldn't figure out why. I knew why. As soon as they left the room, I got our my pen and paper and took notes on the experience and when I gripped the pen, it compressed the sensor. I didn't tell THEM that, of course. If I told them that, they would have tried to take my pen away and I wasn't sure I was well enough to fight them off!

I may have known some writers who don't feel this way, that everything that happens to them and to most people around them is not just fair game, it's theirs, it's the stuff that inspirations are made of -I MAY know writers like that, but I can't think of any. Can you?

I have put off writing about the fire, and I probably won't say more about it here, but you know some day if I need to describe one...

Not All who Wander are Lost.... but I probably am.

Haven't added anything new lately, not because nothing is going on but because so much is! Everything from the dust up where a Christian author went on attack against Love Inspired and, many felt, their writers, editors and readers, to the wonderful time I had presenting a session at an eastern Kentucky writer's conference, to the project I am working on for Christmas (a funny book of recipes and captioned family photos) to, um... oh yeah, my book due in December!

When I think of it all, my mind begins to wander... which brings me here with this confession - I get lost. A lot. I mean it. I always plan extra time into my travel plans for going miles and miles in the wrong direction. My husband and son want to get me a GPS for Christmas.

I like getting lost. Okay, not usually while I'm doing it, but afterward, I have the best stories! Like the time my friend Deanna and I got to a meeting late (because I missed Cincinnati and was making my way to Dayton!)and found ourselves in the middle of a conference of cross dressers. Or last Saturday when I went miles in the wrong direction heading home from my speaking gig and, because I gotten away early, I followed a sign to Old Schoolhouse Antique Mall just to see what they had.

It took me through a teeny town to a small old stone schoolhouse with 6 rooms, I think and one of those auditoriums with the big wooden stages - seeing the building was wonderful. Seeing the Amish ladies selling baked goods was cool. Looking at all the great stuff (I got a vintage Christmas apron - score!)and chatting with people was so fun too. Seeing a part of the world that I would normally have passed by (or never gotten to since I was supposed to be headed west, not east) refilled my soul in so many ways.

Also, when I got back to the highway I realized my mistake and after a bit of a panicky problem solving was able to get turned around and headed toward home. I try NOT to do this in my writing. I try to get it right the first time, just because it saves time, because I am afraid I am wasting effort by writing down a wandering path.

But you know, it always brings me something. It refills my creative well. I don't know it at the time but later, when I see the notes I didn't use, or think of a plot twist or scene that didn't work, I know I have something to learn. My own kind of great story... I realized what I had done wrong and knew not to do that again or I found it wasn't so bad and could be a springboard for another story, character, scene.

So I guess I'll keep doing that. Writing my way through life and sometimes going in the wrong direction or by passing the point, and coming away with a better story for it!
As for that GPS - yes, I'll take it gladly but it may not get used as much as the men in my family think it will be!

Story behind the story

Oh what fun... they have a guest blog spot at the Steeple Hill blog to tell the story behind the story of The Holiday Husband.

http://community.eharlequin.com/content/story-behind-holiday-husband-annie-jones#comment-226016

The Gift of Coming Untangled

There are two kinds of people in the world, those who can untangle things (string, necklaces, Christmas lights) and those who don't.

I no longer assume those who don't do this CAN'T do it. Some can't. They try, the nearly drive themselves crazy with the trying. Then they give up. They cut their losses, literally. Or they pitch the tangle. Or they put it back where they got it and hope the untangling fairies pay a visit before they need the thing again. Or they take it to an untangler.

I have always been able to untangle things. Well, almost always. In fact that's one ways I look at writing... you get the frame work, dump the elements out, untangle them and put them in an order that completes the story. Ahhh. It feels good to work that way and it's clear to me when it's working. Once in a while, though, even something gets so twisted and tied up that I can't even see where to begin to sort it out.

Every day life, for example.
It works me into great big unbudgable knots.
And I just can't see where to start. Everything seems to be equally as important and/or as ignorable! I wanted results, I lived in fear that I was losing out on opportunities, so I tried to work on a dozen spots at once, and the tangle tightened.

What does this have to do with writing? Well, recently I got so frustrated I just grabbed a spot and pulled. And you know what happened?

What happened doesn't matter.

It's what DIDN'T happen that made the difference. The world didn't fall apart. That tug (in my case the decision to let go of my former agent) loosened things up enough for me to start seeing things as separate not just one big blob. Next, I got a job which meant certain duties had to be done on certain days - another thread slipped free. I was beginning to see forms and possibilities.

Then I began to blog for work and from that blog here. WOW. Having to sit down and take the time to think about what WORKS writing wise helped me focus on what needed to be done.

I sold a book on my own and love it and realized that I could do that.
I got a great new agent.
I cleaned my HOUSE.

Each effort eased the pressure somewhere else. This year we had out Halloween party without me going crazy the day of, trying to get everything done. FUN! I have been able to work on a special project for Christmas that I have wanted to do for YEARS.

I have writing to do and I know there is time to do it.

That's the lesson, the gift in coming untangled. Time.
And here we are - I have a blog and I'm blogging, I am not frantic (most of the time).
And it all started by taking a risk and giving the tangle a tug. Try it.

High Concept? Try a Honeycrisp!

Okay, the shine is off the term 'high concept', I know. I'm not even sure what the big buzz words to describe how to crystallize your storyline for a powerful pitch are right now.

It doesn't matter. The more directly you can put the basics of your story, the more chance you have at getting a reader's (editor, agent) interest. Examples: The DaVinci Code (you know DaVinci, smart guy, and there's a code... a secret - and away you go). The Flying Nun (there's this nun who can fly, that's going to figure in every plot).

Today I found a new one while grocery shopping. The Honeycrisp apple. If you have not tried one of these get the store immediately! These apples deliver on the promise of their name from the moment your teeth sink in and break the taut yellow and red skin - crunch! And juicy, so juicy it splashes on your cheeks and drips down your wrist.
Delicious to the eyes, the ears, the tastebuds, and to the memory. This is what autumn should taste like. Fresh and full of promise, sweet but not syrupy. Nourishing enough to satisfy and yet looking forward to your next fix.

Writing should be like that. It should get the reader a little messy with the story splashing off the page and nourish without overfilling (leave room for your reader to bring something of their own to the table!). It should begin with an unmistakable promise. This will be good... pick it and enjoy.