A longer post on my relationship with my Kindle is forthcoming, however for now I just can’t keep this in any longer: Thanksgiving is over and I am in full Christmas mode. Which means belting out “O Holy Night” with Celine Dion and getting chills when Andrea Bocelli sings “Adeste Fideles”. Actually I get chills every time I hear that song, no matter who sings it or in what language. Decorations are going up and presents are being bought and desserts are being baked.
It’s Christmas time, and I’m loving it.
So I’m on the train into Manhattan trying to write, but can’t concentrate because a large family from out of town is sitting in front of me. At first I was slightly annoyed because I thought I had placed myself in the quiet car (evidently not) but now I find my opinion changed. I’m pointing out all the landmarks along the Hudson River to them – West Point, Bannerman’s Castle, Storm King Mountain, Bear Mountain Bridge, Yankee Stadium – and telling them places they should check out once we get into Grand Central – the whisper wall, Rockefeller Center, Chrysler Building, Empire State Building, Bryant Park, New York Public Library, Fifth Ave shopping, Central Park – and telling them how to get there. After I finished this, the little boy said to his parents: “I wish we lived in New York. It’s so cool!”
And I feel really blessed and fortunate that I do live here.
I may have posted about this before, but I am once again irked at today’s popular music and its blatant disregard for language. Take Rhianna’s stupid new song I keep hearing on the radio, for instance. The chorus lyrics are as follows:
“Tomorrow way too far away,
And we can’t get back yesterday,
But we young right now.”
Where, may I ask, are the verbs in the first and third lines? Nowhere.
In Britain, they officially put Jane Austen on the ten pound note, replacing Charles Darwin. I love this, and must rush there immediately to collect one.
Is there anything more divine than writing a novel while being engaged? No. 💍🎉😍❤🎊👰😊
My next step. Is it:
To research more of the time period in which my new novel is set?
To just write a skeleton of said new novel and do most of the research/filling in facts and points of reference during revision?
I’m torn because neither step is going well at this point. Blehh.
Today is 12/12/12. I just wanted to record something on this date. We will not have another same day/month/year combination until the next century. There’s a good chance I won’t be alive then, so I want something on record.
That is all.
Now that I’ve put the manuscript away for a while and am deciding which idea to turn into a novel next, I think it’s time for another tribute to my best friend Ralph.
Seriously, the man knows me so well and I hope everyone has a friend like him in their lives. I don’t know where I would be in my life emotionally or just generally as a person with our him. He helped shape who I am, and I’m so grateful to have him I my life even though we don’t see each other as often as we would like.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, Ralph is also my alpha reader. A manuscript is done and I ship it off to him like a kid mails his Christmas list to the North Pole. When I receive his edits, I find constructive criticism as well as gems like the following:
If the pictures are sideways, sorry I’m still trying to figure out the iPhone app haha! The first one is a note that reads, “This is your mother talking,” as only a BFF would pick up on. The second follows a line that says, “How did a shooting qualify as an accident?” Ralph explains, “Happens in Sicily all the time.”
There are too many of similar comments to display, but those are my faves.
Ti amo moltissimo, Rafealle!!!
You reread a chapter you wrote ages ago where a character dies and your immediate response is to say the prayer for the dead.
Oh boy. I mean I know these are not actually people and are only figments of my imagination, but that’s how alive they are to me. I’m worried about their souls.
I think I might need a little reality check…
Do you ever get this invested in your characters? Are they real to you? If so, do you take it as a sign of solid writing?
Thank you very much for hijacking my personal email account and sending a spam virus to everyone I have in my contacts, and even those who are not in my contacts but fall under the category of everyone I’ve ever sent an email to ever. I really appreciate your actions, especially because several of the accounts you forwarded your junk to are agents to whom I have sent novel queries and whose replies I am eagerly awaiting. Now they will mark me as spam and think my queries are viruses.
I place an Irish hex upon you: “May you go to hell and not have a drop of porter to quench your eternal thirst.”
I hate you.