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Draft two is done! I repeat: draft two is done! I just printed the manuscript (HEAVY) and now it's time to relax. I'm not sure I remember how, but I look forward to exploring the idea. I'm starting with a glass of red wine. Let's see where it leads!
Dear friends, you probably think I fell into a puddle of gravy on Thanskgiving and am only now just crawling out given my lack of posts. Not true! I have been consumed with editing. I'm truly putting the mental pedal to the metal here. And if it weren't for that thing I do every day that sucks up nine hours of my time (but provides health insurance and a salary) I'm quite sure I'd be done by now.
But no matter. The end is in sight. Eighty pages to go (give or take a few). And tonight I had a moment of inspiration. I sometimes think the general public labors under the false impression that we writers are just chock o'block full of inspiration. Not true. We're full of other things.
Anyway, as I walking home this cold evening I caught a whiff of body gel scent that punched me in the solar nexus and dragged me back in time eight or so years. Yes, I'm susceptible to scents. What amazes me is how my brain knows smells and actually makes me feel as I was when I smelled the scent originally. The best example I have is smelling something and actually feeling as if I was standing in the woods with my mother as a child (about four years old). I felt small, close to the ground. The smell was mud, but a very particular mud. I've smelled mud since and not had that reaction.
I decided that my character should smell dirt in an upcoming scene. It would help her remember something and, as a result, she'll reach a decision that was lacking in the text before. I think it's a good idea. It's almost inspired. And what's best is I know it's real, in feeling.
So there you have it. Inspiration. Now if only I could find a way to squeeze more hours out of the day...
Usually, while browsing the Sky Mall catalogue during flights I am struck by the extreme crapiness and craziness of the merchandise. Usually. But ummm, this may have made me a convert. Ladies and gents I present to you the Dough-Nu-Matic!
It makes mini-donuts!!!! In less than a minute. Ack.
I I have a strong supposition someone is flying in an airplane in the skies above me now, leafing through the Sky Mall catalogue, saying, "Who needs a mini-donut maker? That's ridiculous." And to that person I say, "Me and Homer Simpson."
Day Two of Open Studios: whatever will happen?
Come along for the ride and find out!
11:59 Studio door is open. Let the guests come!
12:05 Checking my email until someone pops their head in.
12:20 It's very, very quiet. I suppose I should take this opportunity to do some editing.
12:32 Okay, I wasn't editing. I was checking my Amazon and B&N rankings. Bad author! Bad!
12:50 First two visitors. They seemed to know a thing or two about the world of books. Asked good questions.
1:18 Four more people have come in, if you count the child who hurried in and out. Guess the kid isn't interested in chapter books.
1:27 Thought I had a real buyer there. He thumbed through the book, read a few pages, but nope.
1:32 First question about how to get published.
1:47 Very nice neighbor (Jack) just introduced himself. Open Studios also functions as a "Hey, I'm the person who lives above/below you" meet and greet.
1:56 I've opened an impromptu book store! Two young women were just browsing my book, standing and reading. Alas, they did not buy the book.
1:59 Lappy is making bad fan noises. Must power down.
2:32 Did a reading for three people.
3:05 For the guy who asked, "So you're just selling books?" could you please come back here so I can kick you? I didn't like your tone, sir. And if you'd spent more than six seconds judging me you would have seen the thoughtful exhibits I'd created.
3:31 I'm listening to Kanye. He's making me feel better.
3:37 I got a fair amount of editing done these days. I'm now officially half done with draft two of book two. Huzzah!
3:55 Wow. I have no words for the guy who just insulted me seven different ways, except, "Wow." I can actually feel my skin growing thicker. Good for the coming winter weather I suppose.
4:00 I cannot wait until my parents show up. They like me.
4:27 Yay! My parents are here. I've sent them off to check out the other art.
4:56 I sold a book! I'm going to win my bet after all. (I bet the very handsome boyfriend yesterday, before the excitement began, that I would sell exactly two books.)
5:09 Oh sure, Bloomingdales, send me an email enticing me to buy more winter coats. Like I need enticement. I have an addiction.
5:24 Winding down. Boy am I looking forward to a hot meal and a shower. (I realize this makes it sound like I've been working in the trenches--I have! The trenches of art!)
5:44 Brickbottom artists and neighbors rock! I would like to thank them for their kind words, support, and encouragement. They made both days enjoyable. Thanks y'all.
5:55 I'm declaring this thing done!
6:00 Show is officially over.
Hey y'all. It's Open Studios at Brickbottom Lofts and I have decided to blog it, mostly for my own amusement, but for your edification too. Isn't it nice how I look out for you?
Saturday
12:00 PM The Studios open. The waiting begins.
12:20 My first guest is a volunteer scoping out the work so he can make recommendation to visitors in search of a specific type of work. That's dedication. I like him.
12:30 People begin walking by, peering in.
12:45 First visitor. I explain the art on the walls was not created by me. She's hard of hearing. I yell, "I didn't make THOSE! I'm a writer." This is going well.
1:00 A trio enters. One one of the gentleman tells me a joke. I've heard it before. I laugh because I feel I should, but it is not a very good joke. I made a better knock-knock joke this morning.
1:30 I forgot how many people just like to come in, scope out your apartment space, nod at you, and leave.
1:39 A couple enters. I tell them no, they can't wander the apt. They're good about it. They even read the cover copy of my book.
1:44 I'm holiday shopping online.
3:10 Just finished talking to some people, who had interesting questions for me. Also, Todd's friends, Jean and Paz, stopped by. They were sweet. Very nice meeting them. I "missed" my first reading because I was talking to people and none of them demanded, "Read to me!" Don't worry. My parents will for my second reading.
3:25 I've noticed something. A lot of people say, "Congratulations" to me about my book. It's not that I mind. I think it's a genuine sentiment, but I somehow doubt they say this to the artists. Why is that?
3:39 Yes, I know I have a typo on my poster. Damn it.
3:58 I think I made a future sale, as he didn't have the $20 on him. Hope so.
4:56 The photographer I threatened at the Somerville News Writers Festival just came in. He was very cordial given that, you know, I threatened him the last time we met.
5:32 Seems to be quieting down now.
5:33 My parents are coming tomorrow. Huh. I swear they said today. Ah well.
5:40 Todd is teaching Maggie how to juggle. That's how we roll in this studio.
For those fans who live outside my touring region (as thus far traveled) I have exciting news: I have bookplates. So? So now I can personalize (i.e., sign) your copy of My Summer of Southern Discomfort if you'd like (via bookplate). I'd meant to do this sooner, but I'm picky about bookplates and none of the common "This book belongs to" models work because if I signed my name it would imply that the book you bought belongs to me. Weird.
So anyway, for those of you who have been breathlessly awaiting this opportunity: exhale! And then email me at stephgayle at gmail dot com and ask for a signed bookplate. Tres easy, non?
Hey y'all. You know what you should do this weekend?
Come to Brickbottom Open Studios, from 12-6 PM, Saturday and Sunday. I've gone the past three years and always had a great time. Over a hundred artists open their lofts and work spaces to share their art (often priced to move pre-holidays!) You get to see some amazing stuff, talk to the artists (or not, if you're shy) and shop for gifts (if you've artsy folks on your to-shop-for list). It's a good time. And this year I'll be exhibiting! I'm going to be reading at 2:30 and 4:30 PM each day and I'll also be displaying a novel timeline and "Artifacts of a Writer" that includes some ordinary and strange objects I use in my writing process.
Here's a link with loads more information.
I'll be in the Bakery building, Unit 455. It's a rare chance to see me in my somewhat normal habitat.
We both speak and write English.
We're both Massholes. (Though I'm born and bred. He's a transplant.)
We both write poetry. (His is much better).
He has taught at a women's college. I attended a women's college.
He was Poet Laureate of the U.S. and I have heard of the position.
We will both be at the Somerville VFW on Sunday, November 11th.
Woot! Check it out: www.somervillenewswritersfestival.com.
At 371 Summer St in Davis Square Somerville. Get a drink and chat us up at 6:30 P.M. Readings start at 7:00 P.M.
Get your tickets now!
If, like me, you live in a century old home with inadequate heating you spend much of winter fantasizing about being warmer. Some of that time might be spent on the couch, covered by a blanket that's not quite large or warm enough but which you're truly reluctant to relinquish when say nature calls or you need a cupcake from the kitchen. (When DON"T I need a cupcake from the kitchen?)
Fear not friends! For there is now the Slanket! As described on the product's site the Slanket is "a gigantic fleece blanket with sleeves."
Attractive? Hell to the no! Comfy? No doubt. Oddly, this represents almost exactly what Tracey was describing some months ago when she was thinking of the "perfect" winter body warmer. There may be one in her future.
If, like me, you have "ice hands" come winter, hands you have to warn people about before you shake theirs and they still yell, "My God! It's like you're dead!" when they touch yours, well, I'm sorry. But also: gift idea! This one's been around longer than the Slanket, and has a similar name: the Smitten. It's a mitten for two!
See? It kind of looks like a heart. But no matter. You put one hand in and your honey or friend or very obliging stranger puts a hand in and screams, "Dear God! Your hands are like icicles!" But now you have their warm hand next to yours! You win! Huzzah!
To round out my trifecta of winter gifts I have the Rick Owens Lilies Padded Funnel Neck Coat. I know, it doesn't have a ridiculous name that begins with an "S." Sorry! And it's not funny looking. It's bee-yoo-ti-full.
This image doesn't do it justice. Trust me, it's gorgeous. And as a coat connoisseur (or addict) I am in the know.
At 520 pounds sterling it's pricey, but did I mention how pretty it is and how it's made of an angora/cashmere
blend (ooh, soft)? And how stunning I'd look inside it? I know how to work a winter coat!
So there you have it, more gift ideas perfect for the cold-as-the-undead friend/family member/author you all love.
I have found God. Thanks to eagle-eyed grad student, Annina, and repository of all things computer related, Mako, I have discovered that people are translating the Bible into kittie pidgin. Mako says I can even help if I want, srsly.
Check out the LOLCat Bible Translation Project.
Here's a sample from the Book of Job:
Prowlog
1 In teh land of Uz wuz a man calded Job. Teh man wuz goodz, afraid of teh Ceiling Cat and evilz.2 Teh man hadz seven sunz and tree doters,3 And lots of sheepz and camlez and rinoceruseses and servnts, srsly.4 His sunz tok turns mading cookies, and they all eated them.5 And Job wuz liek "Oh noes! Wut if cookies were sin? Gota prey, just in cased."
Isn't that great? When I get homez I am totes giv teh Ceiling Cat thx for LOLCat Bible. Kthnxbai!
You know what makes a great holiday gift? Books! Here's some reasons why:
They don't require batteries or power adapters or other fussy accessories.
They are easy to wrap. (I'm scissor challenged--always have been. So my gift wrapping often looks as though it was done by a small child. But books have edges and are rectangular or square and flat. Love that.)
Books come in many subjects and age-appropriate levels. Plus, if you don't know what book to buy your seven-year-old nephew you can ask the bookseller and she will offer suggestions. Awesome.
They can be shipped very cheaply (use Media Mail).
Books can inspire conversations unlike, say, fruitcake.
But, you say, none of my family or friends read! Ha! For the non-readers in your life there are picture books and photography books.
I've asked for books, and I've enjoyed them long after the last of the nog was drunk and the dried pine needles were vacuumed.
Disclaimer: I write books. Some of my friends write books. This could be viewed as a thinly veiled sales pitch by the very jaded (such as myself).