Fruit of the Group...

Yea!!!! Split, the first book from my weekly writer's group has been uploaded to Lulu. We have come very close to meeting our deadlines for the 2007 project, which was to create a series of stories that dealt with dichotomies, either internally or across multiple works and publish it as a capstone to a very successful year for several members of the group. One of the best things about the group is that I have the chance to work with some very talented and dedicated people, which raises the standards that I've set for myself. Although I was frustrated earlier (Kevin claims it is entirely attitudinal), I think this is just the year that I'm going to have to develop a better work ethic. The stories that are important to me have to remain important to me when I'd rather veg in front of the TV, after a day of footling about at work, or, more importantly, when the laundry is singing it's siren song of 'come accomplish something concrete.' You have to reevaluate your standards when folding towels seems like a better use of time than finishing a short story. Honestly, you can use a towel if it NEVER gets folded. On the other hand, if I finish that online course in folding towels in monkey shapes, I'll never have to put them up either, just hang them around the house in amusing simian tableaux. Perhaps I should redo the house on a Victorian theme...oh wait, there was that writing thing.

Our new project is a series of short stories based on letters we exchanged at our last meeting. Again, I was a little non-plussed by the letter I received, but then a sarcastic and demanding narrative voice took over. Wow! So that's where all the British mystery lingo went. Apparently it went directly into my inner literary snob, Marcus, who looks like a young Gene Wilder and sounds like he reads too much mystery fiction. Oh, and he's handy at picking locks, because practical knowledge is sometimes more fun. It's weird to find out your inner Brit resembles Gene Wilder.

If you're interested in braving the dichotomous waters of Split, the link is http://www.lulu.com/content/1786971. Many of us have stories in this one and there are several great short stories (including a few contest winners) waiting for a few moments with a reader (probably not just before bed, however...). In fact, some of them might be lurking in a dark corner right now.

TTFN

How is a Rock Star Like a Safety Valve?

Two old rockers sit on a couch, one with a cup of hot tea...saw that one on VH1 yesterday. One of those typically awful clip shows with lots of inanity in between things that used to matter. These guys seemed happy, though. They weren't making excuses or scoring sarcastipoints. "It ain't opera" or some variation thereof was the stated attitude. They had a screaming good time, assumed their fans did too and that was that. What more was there to be said about any of the videos that had been shown? That the hair was bad and the music good? Cause I was too dumb to remember that about 80's? As if.

Having a good time and remembering that if you are a writer or artist that you may want your reader, listener, or viewer to have one too is a difficult proposition. Lately I've been hearing from a variety of sources that what I want requires work and that I will achieve what I work for. If that is working for another excuse to watch movies in the middle of the afternoon, so be it. I had a good time and that's all I can ask from that. On the other hand, if I want to be a writer that gets published, I had better get out in the trenches are started laying down that word count. And I get overwhelmed. Now, I'm thinking that one way around that is to stop taking everything as seriously as I have been. I'm not writing the great American novel. What makes your aspirations great? What makes them cheaper than the latest Wal-mart import? I don't know. If you have a few minutes and want to spend it with someone who just became the caretaker of a grub they believe to be a dragon, well then, have I got the story for you. There's a little bit in there about the discomfort some people feel about the way suburbs have covered the fields, but it's not a diatribe. I happen to live in a house on a former field and while I'm beginning to become anti-monoculture (grass) lawn, that's a fight for the neighborhood association, not for the story. After all, it's not Vonnegut and I had a good time writing it. Letting off steam takes it's meaning from a safety valve for a reason.

Chrissa :)

Shallows of Winter

It's cold...cold enough that the roofs behind us are lightly frosted, that the grass in the backyard is crisp and edged with a fuzzy, glittering outline of itself. The dogs seem to like it. Their coats are finally appropriate and it's kinda nice to be able to snuggle down in the blankets and let them settle in around me.

After spending most of my vacation reading as much as I could get my hands on--more non-fiction, oddly enough, than otherwise--I was reading an article in The Atlantic when I came across a poem about a real winter day in an arboretum and realized (not for the first time) that it's time to stop writing. That, in the midst of the constant yammering of books and TV (and blogs, heh heh), it's just time to shut up. I enjoy reading. I have several books spread around the house, waiting for me to pick them up and finish them...maybe to start them again in another season and read them again. So I don't need to add to the clammer of bad fiction, nor do I need to tell the story of some of the grayer areas of my conscience, any of the excuses or reasons that may have pushed me past a season of rejection letters and missed writer's group meetings. The truth is, I enjoy reading more than I do writing.

And, of course, one will need time during next week's warming trend to clean out the pots that one forgot to cover before the frost...

Dreaming of the Garden

I will soon have the best garden of the year--neat rows of seed packets that will look very promising spread over the card table in defiance of the fact that I have a tiny yard that is already full of re-seeding marigolds and zinnias and out-of-control photinas. At least the sweet peas don't seem to have been unduly troubled by the recent cold snap. Yea!!

This year, I'd like to finally have two barrels of small sunflowers that will give me enough for cutting to go with the gallardias and zinnias. I had great luck with the amarylis bulb that was supposed to go in a forcing jar but is instead sitting in a pot in the front room. Two sets of deep flowers and another flower stalk (a little pale, but hopefully okay) on the way. I think this will be the last flower stalk for the season and then it can rest or whatever through the spring. I love amaryllis because they remind me of my mom's front porch flower bed. Mom had a row of large plants that bloomed bright red or red and white striped. They were some of the only flowering plants that I remember her having when we were younger. I don't have a semi-shady spot to keep a bed outside, but I'm thinking of having a few pots indoors to go with the geraniums and ivy.

One New Year's resolution should be to keep the beds and pots clean this year. I tend to favor letting everything self-seed. This means that I have spots of zinnia and sweet pea and what I think are gallardias poking up through the grass, which doesn't really help when it comes time to mow. Another challenge for this year is the insane number of fire ants that have come to live in the pots out front. If you've ever read City--my ants are on their way to intelligence and world domination (based on expansion, if not glass boxes). Hopefully the dogs are on their way as well.

Within the next few months, pics should follow. Even if they're cribbed from the seed packets. :)

Chrissa