Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
July 21, 2008 by A Slice of Orange in category Archives tagged as The Lone WriterDo you ever wonder how multi-published authors can crank out over a dozen books a year?
Concentration. Even as storytellers they lose themselves in their plots and away they go. Sounds simple, right? Well it is in a sense. You sit, you write, you repeat. And there you have the “magic formula” for every single fantastic book you’ve ever read.
But they never tell you about the hazards.
Last week I was sitting at my laptop happily typing away. My chair was right near the sliding glass door of my balcony and it was noisy enough, and windy enough for me not to notice little things.
Until I was interrrupted by a startling sound.
It was, as you might imagine, an effective distraction. And for once I didn’t mourn the loss of focus. I was too busy staring as smoke curled out of the top vents of the microwave. (Did you know that’s what those vents were for? I had no idea!)
I ended up with something that looked a little bit like this:
I’m going to have to apologize here and admit that it’s not actually my picture. I found it HERE. I was too distracted to think to grab my camera. LOL.
But here is what I’ve learned:
1) You know you eat a lot of microwaveable meals when you instinctively just hit the button for 6 minutes.
2) Microwave popcorn does not take six minutes to pop.
3) If you happen to set off your fire alarm it is best to air out the entire house as quickly as possible so the whole place doesn’t smell. But…
4) Chances are it’s going to smell REALLY bad for awhile anyway.
5) The only way to make the smell of charcoaled microwave popcorn go away is to wipe every surface (especially the inside of the microwave) with bleach wipes, followed by spraying fantastic, followed by spraying windex.
Eventually you’ll realize none of those really work and you’ll just start laying out large platters of baking soda EVERYWHERE including inside the microwave.
And after a week, the smell of burnt popcorn will go away, along with the after-smell of stale cigarettes.
See, it’s Monday morning and you’ve already learned something!
Dana
The Popcorn Incinerator
(P.S. See mom, this is why I don’t cook!)
First Impressions
July 19, 2008 by A Slice of Orange in category ArchivesMonica Stoner Member at Large
Expressions are trite because they are often the best way to say something. Such as: “You only get one chance to make a first impression.” From a writer’s point of view, you sometimes only get the first few pages to make a good impression on an editor, before they are on to the next submission.
Judging a 100,000 word book on less than 1,000 words doesn’t seem fair, but let’s fall back on another trite expression. Sometimes, life really isn’t fair. A reality of today’s lifestyle is that our books are too often judged on that one tiny bit. Possibly even on no more than a title. A working title chosen on a whim can turn people off before they ever even read a word of your book. Don’t handicap yourself before anyone reads a word of the actual book. A funny, clever, or evocative title can suck people into a book for far longer than they might have stayed otherwise.
Readers can latch on to minor details, something we as writers might not find important, and lose track of the story. What seems needed detail as we so lovingly set a scene can come across as far too much detail, put out far too soon, and before that first clever line of dialogue is ever read, before the charming lost prince of the Faerie world can step into the scene to be instantly attracted to our lovely, plucky, intelligent yet humble heroine. Give them a chance to enthrall the rest of the world as much as they have enthralled their creator.
All of this was forcibly brought home to me when I participated in an anonymous reading of the first three manuscript pages. I listened to a narration of scene setting, atmospheric phrases, and long before one of the judges called for a stop, I was cringing and mentally deleting whole pages. All time realizing – so THAT’s why this book isn’t selling!
Writer on the Verge
July 18, 2008 by A Slice of Orange in category Writer on the Verge by Kate Carlisle tagged as Homicide in Hardcover, Kate Carlisle, Writer on the VergeConference Overload
Wait. Conference Overload? It hasn’t even started yet! I haven’t even packed. How can I already be overloaded? I haven’t even shopped for the new pair of pants and two sweaters I’ll need. I haven’t been to the hairdresser! I’ll go tomorrow, finally, thank goodness, and I’ll get a manicure and pedicure while I’m there. And I’ll have to drop off the dry cleaning and pick up two prescriptions before I go to the hairdresser. No, there’s not enough time. I’ll have to get the prescriptions after the hairdresser. Hmm. Maybe I can get the prescriptions Monday night after work. Note to self: check hours.
I need more batteries for my camera. And I’d better take my tape recorder in case there are any emergency brainstorming sessions while I’m there.
Thank goodness I bought a new suitcase last week. I’ll need it. But I haven’t begun to pack yet. And I’ve still got to finish making cards for my blog group to hand out–a few thousand should cover it–and whoa! I need new earrings! One of my silver hoops broke.
Overload? Yeah! By the time I actually get to conference, it’ll be like a vacation compared to the weeks spent preparing to get there! One good thing is that for the first time in recent memory, I’m not signed up for an editor/agent appointment. That means I might actually be able to relax, see my friends, meet in the bar, sleep. Oh yeah, I need some sleep.
But not yet. Must make a list. Must not forget flat iron. And bling. Oh yeah, the earrings. Got to buy new earrings.
And don’t forget to pack my postcards. I ordered postcards to show everyone my new book cover. Wait. I talked about my book cover last month here on the blog but I didn’t get a chance to show it off. So here’s a sneak peek …
Isn’t it beautiful? I love it! (You can click on the cover to get a better look. You’ll want to see the cat up close. He looks very suspicious.)
Now I just need to find a place in my suitcase for three hundred postcards so I can show it off to everyone else in the world. Will three hundred be enough? I hope I don’t go over the baggage weight limit. Note to self: check airline baggage weight limit. Sigh.
Anyone else on conference overload? Anyone else excited about conference? Anyone panicking over editor/agent appointments? (Take some deep breaths. Try to remember they’re regular people like you and me. I know, easier said than done.)
Only one more week to go and we’ll be in San Francisco! Then I can finally get some sleep!
Kate Carlisle writes The Bibliophile Mysteries for NAL. Her first book, HOMICIDE IN HARDCOVER, comes out in February 2009.
The Write Way…(because there is no Right way)
July 17, 2008 by A Slice of Orange in category The Write Way by Maureen Child tagged as Maureen Child, The Write Way
Moving . . .
July 16, 2008 by Marianne H. Donley in category Java Plots by marianne h donley tagged as Java Plotsby
Marianne H. Donley
We bought a beautiful new house. . .in Pennsylvania. The move have been in the works for awhile, well over a year. But giving the housing market we were a little stunned when things actually worked out. Yet, finally on July 3, at 11:30 PM the movers left and we were officially in our new house.
That’s when we found out we bought a Blonde House . . . she’s lovely to look at but frankly not very intelligent.
First we noticed the windows in the bathrooms were not that practical. Long, beautiful pane windows with cute window toppers, they all have sills about two feet off the floor. Something we failed to notice until one of the neighbors waved when I walked into the downstairs bathroom. I quickly hung towels ups and vowed to get blinds first thing in the morning.
Then it was the washing machine –brand new, just hooked up days before. I watched the worker guys take the wrapping off and hand me the instruction booklets. Okay, it was plugged in. Dennis hooked up the water hoses and I stared my first load of laundry (the movers used our all our linens to pack dusty books from the garage). The machine took off walking, then running out of the laundry room and down the hall. We shut the thing off mid-cycle, rung out the sheets and went to look for a laundry mat. The next day, Dennis poured over the washer and figured out the packing screws and styrofoam hadn’t been removed.
The fridge had an ice maker in it, but no ice. Dennis pulled it out to see if they had “forgot” to hook up the water line. It was worse than that, there was no water line. So we have a refrigerator with an ice maker, but no way to use it. We decided a lot of stuff in this house were here just because they looked good, not because we could actually use them.
Our dishwasher confirmed that. Not only was it not attached to the counter, there was no outlet to plug the thing into. It looked really nice, though. So did the stainless steel sink until I did my first load of dishes by hand. Now it has a variety of little scratches all over the bottom. I suspect I wasn’t supposed to actually use the sink, but with no dishwasher . . .
I didn’t quite know what to make of the kitchen cupboards. I can’t tell you how beautiful they are, all different shapes and sizes, some with glass fronts. But very few of my dishes actually fit in the “different sizes” a glass here, pan there, but heck I have enough dishes to feed my extended family (and the OCC board). One plate per shelf didn’t get many dishes, put away. I had to finally throw out a bunch of plastic bowls that just didn’t fit anywhere.
We’re really in the county here. We have a well and a septic system. Unfortunately, according to the builder, Mr. Septic is very temperamental. How did builder guy put it? Mr. Septic doesn’t wish to deal with anything that hasn’t been digested first. No liquid from that left over chicken soup, that last drop of coffee or melted ice cream, unless of course, it had been processed by humans first. When I asked builder guy what I was supposed to do with left over chicken soup he suggested starting a compose heap. I quote: “If you cover your wet waste with lawn clippings you won’t have very many flies.” The dishwasher is to be used only once a day and the washing machine (when it’s not running down the hall) twice. I was mildly surprised we didn’t have a flushing schedule.
Then there is the other trash. This is an issue as we also don’t have trash pick up. Our township does have a free to residents dump, open every Tuesday and half day Saturday, but no green trash trucks rumbling around. They don’t accept lawn clippings or building material or old furniture.
Our office was the last surprise. The room is just stunning. It is spacious enough to hold all my bookcases, both my desk and Dennis’s. It has hardwood floors, wainscoting, crown molding and French doors. But no cable outlet. There are cable outlets in every bedroom, including two in the master and one in the garage, but not in the office where I want to work and access the Internet via a cable modem. I put all the books in the book cases and took them out again to check each wall twice. Because I just couldn’t believe there wasn’t an outlet in the office. We now have a modem and wireless router sitting on top of the TV set in the family room. It’s not exactly an elegant solution, but it’s way better than dial up.
I have to admit that we have a solarium (and just saying that is very cool!). I can sit in the solarium at dusk and watch the fireflies dance across the lawn. Those twenty or so minutes are just a bit magical. They make up for quite a few of our Blonde’s missing smarts.
Marianne H. Donley writes quirky murder mysteries fueled by her life as a mom and a teacher. She makes her home in Pennsylvania with her supportive husband Dennis and two lovable but bad dogs. Her grown children have respectfully asked her to use a pen name which she declined on the grounds that even if some of their more colorful misdeeds make it into her plots, who would know the books are fiction. Besides they weren’t exactly worried about publicly humiliating her while growing up.
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