Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Peter Capaldi and Note Taking Tips for Writers

Last week I had the good fortune to attend the Doctor Who in 3D event, which featured the two-hour season finale from season eight, a preview of season nine, and Wil Wheaton's interview with Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman, aka Doctor Who and Clara, respectively.

During the interview my friend and fellow writer MK, from Project Ehmkay Ultra, was amused when I pulled out my trusty notebook and pen and started taking notes. She warned me that the best things from the interview would stay with me without taking notes, a tip she picked up from Stephen King.

At the time, I mentally argued that I'm ADD and would never remember these notes without writing them down. As it turns out, I should have at least looked at my notes when I got home - or better yet, written this blog post, because looking at my notes now...I have no idea what some of this means. For example:

  1. Any abstraction of the human form is quite spooky.
  2. Clara says I have attention deficit something-or-another.
  3. Loss changes your perspective after you have nothing to lose.
  4. You have to be committed without shutting out anyone else's ideas because their ideas might be better than yours.
Out of all of those ideas, only one makes sense - and I've never even met Clara! And as it turns out, I only have one note taking tip which is as soon as possible after jotting down the notes, sit down at your laptop or wherever and expand on them so you know why the heck you wrote the notes in the first place.

In the meantime, here's the Doctor Who Season 9 trailer. Are you a Whovian? Who's your favorite doctor or companion? Let's talk about it in the comments!


Wednesday, September 23, 2015

3 Reasons Why Writers Need Blanket Forts


I want to build a blanket fort. It is not for my sons, who are aged 18 and 17 and entirely capable of building their own stereotypical manly blanket forts. I don't want to share it with my husband, because he thinks the idea is silly.

When I close my eyes and picture my perfect blanket fort, it has things like a chenille bedspread roof, fairy lights along the tie-dyed , a bean bag chair floor, a small bookshelf, and a maybe a goldfish bowl full of skittles.

Come on, everyone knows it's not logical to put a goldfish in a blanket fort.

But getting back to my point, everyone could use some time in a blanket fort. This is especially true if you are a writer, and here are three reasons why:

1. Relaxation
Going into a blanket fort transports you into another realm. All the stress from the world outside the blanket fort disappears. You don't have to look at your phone or laptop. You can read a book, take a nap, or just curl up and daydream about stuff.

2. Inspiration
All that daydreaming can lead to inspiration. One minute you're wondering why the unicorn is Scotland's national animal (Go on, look it up!), and the next your main character butts in with a thought. Then another character pipes up. Before you know it, the ideas are flowing like crazy.

3. Socialization
Can you imagine having your next writers' group meeting in a blanket fort? Put away your notebooks, pens, and laptops in favor of a board game like Boggle or, my favorite, Scrabble! As soon as you tell your friends and family you have a blanket fort, they will beat down the fabric door to join you. (If they don't try to have you diagnosed with Peter Pan Syndrome.)

So who's ready to build a blanket fort? If you aren't sure where to start, then check out the following YouTube video.


I'd love to hear your thoughts (or see the results of your fort-building) in the comments below!












Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Birds of a Feather - A Short and Sinister Romance Story

This is my first attempt at the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge. The story had to be less than 1,000 words with the following conditions:
  • Genre - Romance
  • Location - Aquarium
  • Random Item - Jalapeno Pepper
Thanks for reading, and I look forward to your comments!

"Birds of a Feather"

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at quarter-past twelve, Archibald Monroe took a seat inside an auditorium at the aquarium next door to the bank where he worked as a loan officer. The Birds of the Rainforest show was his favorite exhibit and in the past seven weeks, he hadn’t missed a single performance. The show began promptly at 12:40 p.m. but arriving early gave him time to scarf down his lunch – a cardboard container of jalapeno poppers from a food truck parked outside the glass and steel structure.

Archibald preferred the exotic birds over the mysterious sea creatures within the multi-story building, but thought none of them compared to their handler, Deirdre Carlin. Her pouty lips, dark lashes, and mane of glossy, auburn hair captivated him, but he was most impressed with her well-toned physique. She looked the picture of health.

Unlike Vera. Vera also worked at the bank next door. Every day at lunchtime, she and Archibald shared a rickety table in the breakroom. He asked her out over its faded, laminate top. When Vera shared the news of her cancer diagnosis while sitting across from him at the same table, he half-heartedly promised to be there for her.

But that was before he drove her home from her first chemo treatment and she puked all over the inside of his Mercedes. The next day he sent her a dozen roses and a copy of the receipt for the auto detailing service responsible for cleaning the mess.

Archibald avoided the breakroom afterward, which was how he wound up visiting the bird show at the aquarium. He since went out of his way to avoid Vera at work and hadn’t returned to his former lunch venue. Not even when the bank manager mass-emailed the employees to congratulate Vera on the news of her cancer going into remission. He couldn’t risk getting emotionally close to someone that sick.

Right on time in the auditorium, the lights dimmed over the audience and spotlights illuminated the stage. Archibald devoured the last of the deep fried jalapenos, stuffed the container into the pocket of his jacket, and licked his fingers clean.

Twenty-five minutes later, after the meager midday crowd dispersed, Archibald practically bounced to the front of the stage. “Hi Deirdre! Are we still on for tonight?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it.” Deirdre’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and her bottom lip quivered. “I look forward to something to make me smile after…well.” During the show she mentioned the passing of Bryan, her scarlet macaw.

“Yeah. Sorry to hear it. You think you’ll find a replacement soon?”

She glanced up and held his gaze. “Oh yes, quite soon. I have my eye on one which should work out nicely.”

“Great! Still want me to pick you up at your apartment?” Archibald’s smile broadened, dimpling his cheeks when she confirmed her address so he could plug it into his phone.

***

“Losing someone you love is hard.” Archibald covered Deirdre’s hand with his. They sat at the kitchen table in her apartment, empty plates all that remained of the dinner she prepared – steak, baked potatoes, and his favorites, jalapeno poppers.

She gave a deep sigh. “A macaw can live as long as a human. He should have lasted another forty years at least. Did you know they mate for life?”

“I had no idea.” Archibald leaned forward, enchanted by his hostess.

“They do.” She nodded, pulling her hand away. “And they aren’t likely to leave their mate for someone younger and sexier.”

“Did someone leave you?” When Deirdre didn’t answer, he pressed, “What common excuse for a human would leave you? I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you’re the prettiest woman I ever met. I’d certainly never leave you.”

A flush crept into Deirdre’s cheeks and she stood, clearing the dishes away from dinner. Archibald sat back and watched, his eyes taking in her form as she moved.

“So what’s your story?” She asked while stacking the dishwasher. “Surely you weren’t always single.”

“I was dating someone from work, but it didn’t work out.”

“What happened?”

Archibald hesitated only slightly. “She needed time to focus on herself.”

“How very selfish! She must not have been the one.”

“No, no I don’t think she was. You’d think it wouldn’t be so hard, finding the right person to spend the rest of your life with.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” she agreed, turning on the dishwasher. Then she turned to her guest. “Would you join me in the living room? I have a new bottle of cognac waiting for a special occasion like tonight, if you’re up for a nightcap.” He readily agreed, her cologne luring him into the next room like a hummingbird to a fragrant flower.

***

A pounding headache woke Archibald from a deep sleep. He blinked his eyes open and looked around. What is this place? He thought. Jungle? Forest? Where am I?

Just then, Deirdre’s face came into focus. Archibald tried to speak, but his voice came out in a squawk. He looked down at the feathers covering his body and screamed.

“Shh, it’s okay precious Archie.” Her fingers delicately ran over his head and down his back, causing him to shiver. She carefully removed him from the enclosure. “You’re right. It’s difficult to find the one person to share the rest of your life. When you kept appearing in the audience, I knew you were the one for me.”

Archibald stared at his date from the previous night, too shocked to speak, much less squawk.

“And now you’ve replaced Bryan, so we can spend the rest of our lives together! I love you so much, Archie. We’re going to be so happy together.”

Deirdre stepped onto the stage and waved at her audience. “Welcome to Birds of the Rainforest! Today I’d like to introduce you all to Archie, a blue and gold macaw.”

Eavesdropping as Inspiration

We are a society in love with technology. Age no longer matters when it comes to having a cell phone on hand. Or more accurately, glued to the hand. I'm guilty of it, but I try to be discreet when having an actual voice conversation.

Other people act like discretion is a foreign concept. While this is sometimes an annoyance, other times it makes great inspiration for books. This is especially true if a second party shows up and you can hear both parties speaking.

Recently I had the good fortune of finding myself in this exact situation several weeks ago. Parked at a coffee shop with my laptop for a few hours, the gentleman next to me seemed rather surprised when an attractive female showed up. Here's their conversation*, per my live-share with some friends on Skype.
Jack: What are you doing here?
Diane: I just wanted to surprise you.
Jack: But what...are you doing...HERE?
Diane: I told you (kisses him) I wanted to surprise you.
Jack: (still in his seat) Um...
Diane: Are you surprised?
Jack: You could call it that.
Diane: (shoves forward and kisses him on the mouth) Be right back, I need coffee!
Jack: (furiously texting someone)
Diane: Are you available?
Jack: Not really, no (furiously packing up laptop)
Diane: (sits down)
Jack: Did you park by me?
Diane: YEP! (very happily) I knew by the dry cleaning in the back.
Jack: Oh.
Diane: It was a dead giveaway.
Jack: I miss ironing. I should iron my shirts more.
Diane: How's Marybeth?
Jack: She's good, showing. Everyone's asking when she's due.
He just got up. She got up. She's following him outside.
You don't have to be a writer to speculate where this might lead. My group of friends on Skype enjoyed speculating - was she an ex-girlfriend? A former co-worker? A kissing cousin? A current lover? A super friendly person with no respect for personal space or social cues?

How might you spin this story? I'd love to hear about it in the comments, along with anything else you'd like to discuss. And in the meantime, here's a video where someone finds another fun use for eavesdropping.


Until next week, happy writing!

*Names changed to protect identities, should they ever read this blog article.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

#OneHundredHappyDays

Have you heard of this?

In a nutshell, people sign up through the 100 Happy Days website and commit to posting something happy-related online via their social media accounts for 100 days in a row.

How Can People not Have Time to Be Happy?

How hard could it be? It takes only a few seconds to write up a social media post and add a hashtag. Apparently it is rather difficult. According to the website:
71% of people tried to complete this challenge, but failed quoting lack of time as the main reason. These people simpy [sic] did not have time to be happy. Do you?
What losers! Honestly, who doesn't have time to post something happy to social media? There are more people using social media than ever before.
According to a new eMarketer report, “Worldwide Social Network Users: 2013 Forecast and Comparative Estimates,” nearly one in four people worldwide will use social networks in 2013. The number of social network users around the world will rise from 1.47 billion in 2012 to 1.73 billion this year, an 18% increase. (Jun 18, 2013)
Am I too Busy to Be Happy?

Having nothing to lose, I threw my hat into the #OneHundredHappyDays ring and hit the ground running. I had so much to be happy about! But then I forgot to post one day. Then I missed another day. Then I missed a few days in a row -- despite being on social media every flipping day!

How did this happen? Was I one of the 71% who were too busy to be happy? Or was it something else? Something like:
  • having two teenagers, a husband, four dogs, a pair of geckos, and a turtle who demand my time and attention
  • working an average of 11.5 hour days between freelance writing, my writing projects, and our family's business
  • being distracted by all the other crap cluttering my news feed on every one of those social media accounts
Ding Ding Ding! We Have a Winner!

I'm not too busy to be happy at all. I'm just too distracted to brag about it. I fire up social media and ADD kicks in full force. What started off as an intention to share a bit of happiness turns into my community's group page, news feed, BuzzFeed, trending news, CollegeHumor, dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena!

Between the junk in our newsfeeds and networks like Facebook making it more difficult to follow the people and organizations that matter to us, is it any wonder that I (along with 71% of the others who signed up for the challenge) failed to create #OneHundredHappyDays?

100 Happy Days? Challenge Denied!

I love a good challenge, so I think someday I'll try again. Not right now, though. Right now I have more important things to do, like watch a movie with my family or research something for my next book.

Have you ever tried the challenge? Did you succeed? Or were you too busy or distracted to keep up with posting for one hundred days in a row? I'd love to hear about your experience (as well as the things that make you happy) in the comments below!


Wednesday, September 2, 2015

OMG Shakespeare - Innovative or Idiotic?

OMG is right. Have you seen this? Someone butchered classic works of literature. I'm talking timeless treasures from the Lord Bard himself, William Shakespeare.
Juliet: Srsly U R so hawt.
Romeo: IKR?
However, this is not the first time someone has altered a Shakespearean work. Let us review:

While the above works were inspired by Shakespeare, they all retain a certain amount of literary integrity. They respect basic elements of literature such as spelling and grammar. The OMG series, on the other hand, fails to do that. Here's an example of what you can expect from OMG Shakespeare:

So what do you think? Are the "greatest stories ever told from the greatest playwright of all time in emoji" an innovative attempt to gain popularity with the current generation of teenagers? Or are they just idiotic?

Leave your comments below!