Isn't Life Strange?

This morning I was thinking how important my writing buddies, Loree Burns and Eric Luper, are to me. Then I thought about how random it is that I know them at all.

I must first state I never intended to become a writer. It happened accidentally after the world, as I knew it, blew away, taking my identity with it. I started going for long walks in the woods, trying to figure out who I was. When I finally accepted I didn't know, the walks became meditative.

One day, a children's story appeared on the movie screen in my mind. I liked it so much, I wrote it down. Another story came along, then another. I decided to take a crack at getting published, only I didn't know how. A friend of a friend suggested I join SCBWI. So I did.

I met Loree and Eric through the SCBWI message board and, in 2003, we formed a critique group. Over the years, our relationship has evolved into a very special friendship. With their support, and a great deal of trial and error, I have completed two novels. At some point along the way I picked up a new identity, I'm a writer.

We met because each of us took specific steps at precise moments in time. Three little meteorites traveling through the vast universe collided and a friendship was formed. It's too random; I can't think about it anymore.

Mirror, mirror....

I divide my time between two houses, one in Michigan, the other in Tennessee. In both of them I have mirrors hanging everywhere, not just bathrooms and bedrooms but the living room, dining room, kitchen, basement. It's not because I'm vain, I like to look at rooms backwards.

First I admire the general appearance. Without fail, each room appears more spacious. I cannot figure out why. I marvel at the still life quality, the colors in the furnishings, the angle of a chair, the views out the windows. It's like I'm looking at a different house.

When I'm done with that, I move onto the main attraction; I try to see what's going on in the spaces that are outside my range of vision. I twist, and turn, stand on my tip toes, lean in, lean out. Since I have so many mirrors, I can spend countless whiles moving about the room, seeing it from different angles.

I know the concept is not new. Alice did this very thing in her "Adventures in Wonderland." But I didn't get the idea from her. I started this practice as soon as I was able to climb up on a chair and look in a mirror.

It's great fun and I suggest you give it a try.

Oh Dear

I just finished the book I've been working on for the past year and a half. My days will no longer be spent in the dysfunctional little world I created.

I'm not happy, I'm sad. Worse, I'm bereft. I feel like I just got a divorce. Like my dog ran away.

I stand alone watching the train pull out of the station, and all the characters from my book are on board. They have each other. I have no one. This is too hard. I am never writing another book again. Ever!

The Essentials for Writing a Book

Let me just launch into this. My writing behavior is inconsistent because I suffer from multiple-writing-personalities-disorder. Here's how it works:

#1: I don't write anything at all and don't feel guilty.

#2: I beat myself up for not writing but I don't have anything to say.

#3: I am on fire! My fingers race to keep up with my mind. Nothing can stop me. I forget to eat, sleep, turn on lights, bathe.

#4: I'm done. I submit my manuscript to my writing group. I can't type and gnaw my fingernails simultaneously, so I wait. And fret. I realize there was a plot twist I left out. A witticism I neglected to include. A loose end I forgot to tie. Too many dialogue tags. Not enough tension.

#5: My writing group sends their critiques. Every word reads: THIS SUCKS!

#6: After I pull myself out of the fetal position, I slam my computer shut, and go back to personality #1.

#7: I am being eaten alive by guilt. I have got to finish that manuscript. I square my shoulders and sit down at the computer. I take off my shoes. Blow my nose. Go floss my teeth. Come back. Read my email. Send my brother a chatty note about myself. Read people's blogs. Eat a bag of Starlight Mints. Write something in my own blog. Go brush my teeth. Come back. File my nails. See what's happening on Rugman.com.

When I am finished with these warm-up exercises, I re-read the critiques. They aren't so bad after all. In fact, they're downright encouraging. Hey, these are some fabulous suggestions! My mind sparks, it ignites, I'm on fire!