Old Brick

In August, I blogged (link, link) about the methods anthropologists use to determine the age of ancient ceramics.  

Here is an article about a brick from Roman times that turned up at Fort Vancouver. The brick may have been part of a cobblestone street or Roman ruin in Great Britain. Historians speculate that during Colonial times, the brick was recycled for use as ballast in an English ship that traveled to British Columbia. The brick is adorned with the paw prints of an ancient Roman cat that stepped in the wet clay about 2000 years ago.

Spring Break

Lately, I've been having a problem with manuscript fidelity. Usually, I cuddle up with my WIP, and stick with it until submissions do us part. This past week, I couldn't seem to decide which manuscript was my heart's desire.

Last Monday, I posted that I was putting aside TAoCBS. I started an exciting new affair with DB. I adored the protagonist of DB for at least a couple chapters. Then, alas, TAoCBS started looking better. I remembered its laughter and light-hearted spirit.

In honor of the NCAA playoffs, I revisited G&G, my basketball novel. Perhaps G&G is my true champion.

Fortunately, CBL is off getting a paid critique. Out of sight. Out of mind.

I noticed something important during my wild and crazy spring break. The manuscripts with male protagonists have more action than the ones with female protagonists. Who knew my muse was so sexist?

Progress Report

I finished the first draft of TAoCBS. It was difficult to write, so finishing even a short, rough, first draft is an accomplishment. This manuscript is different from all my other projects, and I'm glad I attempted it.

Now it's time to put it aside. I’m not doing this because The Voice of Doubt has joined a street gang which he/she/it has. The Voice of Reason is telling me that I know enough about writing to recognize that this manuscript is not a novel. Maybe someday, I'll figure it out, but right now, I don’t have the answers.

Meanwhile, there are other stories to tell and other voices to discover.

The Shadow

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of first drafts?
The Shadow knows!

I'm counting on The Shadow to help me find, expand, then conquer the evil in my remaining chapters.

Click the link. Come on. Click the link.

Waiting for the Coup

There is always a point during the first draft when my WIP takes over my brain. The characters hold me hostage, and the plot stages a sit-in in my cerebrum. Even when I’m not writing, I can’t escape. My desk becomes littered with little notes about changes. (Wouldn’t it be orderly to keep them in a notebook or even an envelope?) My chapter headings acquire large graffiti-like markings, “So-and-so has to do such-and-such.”

Sometimes the coup occurs on the first page of chapter one.

Sometimes it doesn’t.

Like now.

Since my brain is not under occupation, there is plenty of room for The Voice of Doubt.
You’re not the person to write this story.
You think you can be funny? Ha!
Is this novel about something?

Yesterday was a good writing day. I started to hear the rumblings of revolution. Maybe the coup is at hand.

On Location

My work-in-progress takes place in the town where I grew up. Pretty, isn't it? The water is the Pacific Ocean, specifically the Santa Monica Bay. The same coastline is shown in the top picture of the sidebar.

This house is similar to the imaginary one where my protagonist lives. It is built into the side of a hill with only the garage showing from the street. Most of the rooms have views of the ocean.

Early morning fog. Chapter 3

White stone stairs where protagonists runs. Chapters 3 and 33

The lights of Los Angeles. Chapters 2 and 15