Drawing Lines
I’m in the bathroom trying to come up with a sample for my doctor to analyze, and thinking about the ovarian cyst they found yesterday. Hmmm…. sounds like this is going to be one of those Too Much Information posts. For the squeamish, don’t worry, it doesn’t get much worse than this.
Back to the potty, I’m thinking “What if I have to have the ovary removed?” I’m not planning on having any more kids, and have a spare ovary. Is it really such a bad thing to lose one? What if they both have to go? I really, really don’t want to have to take estrogen pills every flipping day for who knows how long.
And what about the other cyst, the one right where my appendix used to be? Shouldn’t we be thinking about removing it as well? No one seems the least concerned, so maybe I can ignore it. But if they tell me the guts have to go, then what?
I know a man who had to have a LOT removed. He now lives with a colostomy bag. Ok, so I lied to the squeamish. My apologies. But the point is I don’t want to live like that!
I won’t do it! I draw the line at colostomy bags.
Unless… Lord, this could be a lot worse, couldn’t it. This could kill me.
Suddenly the line I drew doesn’t mean the same to me as it did a few seconds ago.
I don’t particularly want to die. Somehow, realizing how very bad things can get when it comes to malfunctions of the body, I see it all a little differently. Suddenly daily pill popping and external appliances don’t seem quite so bad.
Pfft. Why worry about it? I’ll probably turn out to have some sort of bacterial infection, have a minor operation on the ovary, and ignore the thing where my appendix used to be. Scary as this thing has been, it’s probably nothing.
Meanwhile it’s back to the bathroom. Now where did my book go? I wonder if things would move faster if I ate a cookie.
Alice
Goals
Goal for today – have a bowel movement
Goal for tomorrow – see if my doctor can figure out why this stupid bowel movement put me in the hospital for 10 hours.
Alice
Question
I’m reading Ahead of the Game by Suzann Ledbetter which has the following passage (p.34) :
Hank just said she’d get back to dating in time. Zoey replies “No, I won’t. Not because I’m still hurting. Actually, I feel guilty for not hurting – not to mention stupid, for not calling it quits a long time ago. Like before the wedding, when I knew I wasn’t having cold feet but convinced myself that was all it was.”
I recently saw a YouTube video in which a woman cuts her hair right before a wedding because the hair dresser made it curly. I know the feeling where the hair is concerned, but suspect she might also have had cold feet. I had a case of cold feet the morning of the wedding, which was ridiculous. We co-owned our house by then, and left for the wedding in the same car.
It got me to wondering about having cold feet right before you marry. Is this common?
If you are married, did you have cold feet right before?
Alice
Vanishing Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
This used to be on the box of Quaker Oats. I skipped all the brand references, rearranged things, and added something. Can you guess what? 😀
1 c. butter
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 T. molasses
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
1 3/4 c. four
1 tsp. soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. salt
3 c. oats, uncooked
1 c. raisins
The usual cookie drill: use a mixer to mix the wet stuff, separately mix the dry stuff except the oats and raisins, then combine everything.
Heat oven to 350 deg F. Drop rounded spoonfuls about tablespoon size onto cookie sheet. Bake 10-12 min. until brown. Makes about 4 dozen or flatten into 13×9 pan and bake 30-35 min.
Lasts about two days.
Bon Apatite
Alice
FanLit Challenge 3 Round Two
The requirement for the second round is “something goes wrong.” No Patience’s cat writes a letter or she enters a ball late and leaves before midnight. Simply take the story from where the Round One winner left off and have something go wrong.
As mentioned before, we had a little dust-up with respect to the winner. So we took the five entries with the best average score and put them in a poll. The entries are:
Mistaken Identity
Redemption By Carriage
Tempestuous
This Rough Paradise
Washed Up
For the sake of this example, let’s assume Mistaken Identity is the winner.
In Mistaken Identity a young French lady named Simone captures an English lord whom she thinks dishonored her sister. She has indeed captured Lord Rosewood, but it is Michael, not Henry. Henry died on the Peninsula after having married Simone’s sister. It ends with the line: “What, does this mean?” he asked once again, this time in her native tongue.
Let’s assume the author has selected a pound note, a bottle of wine, and a candle as the three objects we must include.
The assignment is then to write a chapter in which something goes wrong for Simone and Michael. Include a pound note, a bottle of wine, and a candle.
What could go wrong? I’ll put a few ideas in the comments as I think of them.
Alice
FanLit Forever Challenge 3, End of First Round
We had ourselves some fun over on FanLit Forever. The winner didn’t want to accept the crown. We ended up putting it to a vote.
New schedule:
Vote for the winning entry closes Monday at noon Mountain Standard Time.
Submissions accepted for Round Two beginning Tuesday at noon and close February 20th at 11pm.
Alice
Suzie’s House 5: …. Or Completely Devastated.
“What do you mean Drew has to move in too?” Vin knew Miranda had an interest Drew, but he’d hoped it was one of her passing crazes.
They walked down Brearly toward East Washington. Sitting on The Isthmus in the heart of Madison Wisconsin, Brearly ran only a few blocks long with one end at Lake Mendota and the other at Lake Monona. A relatively quiet street, lined with small, hundred year old houses on one side and a baseball field on the other it was a nice place for a stroll. Unless the woman you were strolling with happened to be ripping your heart out and stomping all over it.
Vin could hear the crack of a bat slamming into a baseball and half expected the ball to come lobbing over the yellow limestone wall as they passed. East Washington hummed with rush-hour traffic. In a couple more blocks they would reach the parking lot where Drew waited for him.
“You don’t have to be so touchy about it, do you?” Miranda wrinkled her nose, looking tantalizingly cute and peevish.
“Yes.” He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “I think I do. You ask me to move in, but you only want me if I bring a friend?”
“Come on, Marvin. Suzie really needs the money. The bank is about to foreclose on her.”
“I’ll be glad to lend her whatever she needs.” He agreed that it would be a real pity to see Suzie lose her house. Not only had she put her heart and soul in the building, she had started with the kind of house he’d liked but didn’t have time for.
“She doesn’t need another loan. She needs an income.” Miranda sashayed up to the button to activate the walk light at the intersection with East Washington.
Six lanes of heavy traffic made it hard to talk, but in a couple more blocks they would reach Drew and the conversation wouldn’t go Vin’s way at all. Vin stepped back so Miranda couldn’t watch the traffic light while facing him “I said I’d move in.”
“You and I aren’t going to be enough. We need Andrew too.”
“Nothing says it has to be Andrew who moves in with us.” He watched her closely, keeping her eyes on him while the traffic light behind Miranda went through a complete cycle. They missed their chance to cross the street, which suited him just fine.
She narrowed her eyes at him. Whatever she saw didn’t make her happy and probably wouldn’t make him happier either.
“You aren’t jealous of him, are you?” Her eyebrow arched briefly, adding to the probing intensity of her stare.
“No,” he said quickly. “No, of course not. No way.” He shook his head.
“You are. I knew it. Marvin,” She made his name sound like a complaint. “It isn’t like that between us and it never will be. We are just friends. Isn’t that enough?”
No. Just friends would never be enough for him. Nor did he believe she couldn’t come to see how well suited they were to one another. He knew all her little games and didn’t mind. Really. Where she would drive a man like Drew nuts she only made Vin want her more.
He shouldn’t be so worried. It wasn’t like Drew was interested in Miranda. As far as Vin could tell, he hardly knew Miranda existed. Of course the case they were working on together might be distracting Drew from the treasure who was about to throw herself at him.
Vin felt mildly nauseous. He really did not want to see Miranda throw herself at Drew, even if Vin could count on Drew to set her down easy.
The light changed. They crossed, heading toward Jennifer St, which was where Suzie lived. “Hey, there he is!” Miranda looked impossibly happy to see Drew, who was right where he and Vin had agreed to meet.
Her joy made various parts in Vin’s chest hurt. He carefully uncoiled his fists, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them out of trouble. He didn’t want to hurt either Miranda, or Drew, with whom he’d kept in contact all these years and still considered his best friend.
But he wouldn’t mind burying her case of infatuation.
Drew raised an eyebrow in question as Vin and Miranda drew close. Vin shrugged uncomfortably. Miranda sidled up to Drew with a warm smile, completely oblivious to the fact she was an unexpected and not necessarily welcome addition to the party.
“Andrew, we were just talking about you,” Miranda purred. “I know you’re living out of a hotel. How would you like to move into a boarding house?”
Never a very responsive man, Drew merely waited to hear more. He leaned against his Subaru Legacy, managing to look tough with his arms crossed in spite of the size of the car. He was tough, but Vin didn’t want Miranda to notice.
Miranda’s smile wavered uncertainly. “Suzie is a great cook, and has the best house. You should see it.”
“All right.”
“You’ll do it?! You’ll move in with us?” Miranda’s smile flashed twice as bright as before. Vin would happily have killed to be the recipient. He ground his teeth together, feeling cold spreading from his belly like dread.
“No. I’ll go see. Get in. I’ll drive.”
“We can walk. It’s only half a dozen blocks,” Vin assured him.
“Thanks,” Miranda sounded entirely too grateful, and completely ignored Vin. “My shoes are killing me.” She went around to sit shot gun.
Vin stepped forward to take the back seat and tried to make his teeth unclench. Drew stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“We’ll talk about the case later, after we ditch her at Suzie’s house.”
Vin nodded agreement. As he slid into the back seat relief made him giddy. Drew wouldn’t really move into the house. He was only humoring Miranda. This could work out great. He and Miranda would move in, but not some guy who might distract Miranda. Then Vin could make some real progress with her.
Following Miranda’s directions, Drew parked in the little lot behind Suzie’s house. They all went in through the kitchen. It smelled wonderful. Suzie was pulling out a roast that made Vin’s stomach growl. Miranda was right. Moving in would suit him well. She gave them a short tour of the house.
To Vin’s surprise, Drew looked around with interest. “I thought you were leaving soon. We’ve almost got this case cracked. What are you going to do once it’s closed?”
“I’ve been assigned another case, one that will keep me here a bit longer.”
This day got worse and worse.
“Besides, if we are living in the same house it will be easier for us to work together without raising suspicion. No more meeting in empty parking lots. We’ll simply talk here.” Drew seemed so matter of fact about it.
So he wasn’t interested in Miranda after all. He actually wanted to live in Suzie’s house for good reasons. Vin relaxed. It would be all right. In fact, it would be better than all right. So long as Drew wasn’t interested in Miranda, living under the same roof should be fun.
“So you’ll do it then? Move in, I mean.”
“Sure.” They headed up the stairs with Miranda in front of them. “Even if I weren’t going to be here a while longer I would. I like the view better than anything at the hotel.” Drew said. His eyes were on the seat of Miranda’s little leather skirt. “With a little work, I think I could really get somewhere.”
The previous was Suzie’s House 4: …Or Broken…
This is Suzie’s House 5: …. Or Completely Devastated.
Next is Suzie’s House 6: Back to Work
Capturing the Image
So often I have caught myself writing my way around an image. I’ll have something clear in my mind, and end up building my story around it
That doesn’t work well, as this round at FanLit Forever will testify.
The problem with an image is that it may contain all sorts of emotion and significance, but be completely lacking in GMC. Worse yet, it may appear to have GMC, but when you try to write around it turn out to have the wrong GMC for the characters, or for the sort of story you are willing to write.
So what do you do with these fantastic images that kind of fit the story, but don’t actually move the story?
I say slip them in sideways. Yes, I know I’m supposed to say cut them completely, but when I cut all of them I end up missing a lot of the punch I want in my writing. So I’m going to try to keep the images, without necessarily making them the central focus.
For instance, should a particular portrait catch my attention, rather than have my character standing in the hallway looking at the preterite, I could have my character remember standing in the hall way looking at the portrait and comparing it to the real person sitting in the carriage next to her. Rather than having my character go down to the airport only to leave again, having told the reader less than I would like to, I’ll have him packing the car and talk about the airport and what it was like to be unable to catch a plane.
I think I can get away with it. In the next round, we will see.
Alice
Hooking Readers
A hook is anything that makes a reader want to read more. Hooks are generally found at the beginning and ending of scenes and chapters. They are what give you the cliffhanger feeling.
Most of the time hooks are questions the writer intentionally places in the reader’s mind. Probably the most common is, “What’s going to happen next?”
Having been both panned and complimented for my hooks, I think I have a reasonable idea of how they work. The best hooks seem to come from something substantial in the story itself. The questions left in the reader’s mind will involve something to do with the characters motivations, goals, or conflict.
There are always elements about a story that are simply too big to fit in. It seems to me most new writers react by simply telling it. These over-sized elements are excellent sources of hooks, provided you show instead of tell. For instance, a spy who may be a double agent can provide plenty of hooks, so long as you never come out and say she is a double agent. Leave the reader wondering – is she, or isn’t she?
Withholding important information does not necessarily make a good hook. A lot of times it will simply backfire by leaving the reader confused. If a character is behaving oddly because he is a werewolf, and you don’t get around to saying he’s a werewolf until page 150, then most readers are going to get frustrated and pitch the book. Withholding a pet’s name without a very, very good reason will backfire. Withholding all of a character’s motivation or goal will backfire. Withholding some, on the other hand, can be tantalizing.
The point is you have to give the reader enough information for them to make some guesses about where the story is going to go. Keeping back too much undermines the real hooks.
When you do set a hook, it should be with an eye to the theatrics involved. Unveil the answer to one question, only to leave the reader about another. You could say the double agent DID put a sleeping powder in the hero’s soup. But she didn’t intend the soup for him. So who did she intend it for?
Don’t ask the question for the reader. Leave it hanging out there and let the reader come up with the question on her own. Don’t be to quick to answer it. But don’t wait to long either.
It’s a matter of balance between how much you reveal and how much you hold back. A lot of the time setting and releasing hooks is a matter of feel. As they say “always leave them wanting more.”
Alice
PUN-ishment
I had a couple of friends in high school who enjoyed puns. They would spend minutes, if not hours, competing with one another, trying to come up with puns. Silliest pun, strangest pun, simplest pun, or best of all worst pun, they got into it. These sessions were often referred to as pun-ishment.
The thing about this kind of punning around is that you have to have a certain sensibility to do it. It isn’t enough to have a twisted mind. Punning is like living through opposite day. What’s good is “bad”. What impresses should receive a “boo”. The louder the complaints, the better the pun. To enjoy one pun after another you must enjoy the strangeness of it.
So what I posted on Pam’s blog was intended as the highest of compliments.
.
Alice
Lazy Borsch
If you want a good borsch recipe, go here. If you want quick and easy, you’re in the right place.
1 can beef broth
1 can water
1 can beats
1 onion, sliced
Plain yogurt.
Bring first 4 ingredients to a boil in a medium sauce pan. Serve. Put a dollop of yogurt, still cold, on top. Serves 2.
It’s kind of an acquired taste, but fast, easy, and sometimes really hits the spot.
Bon Appetite
And this ends our tour of healthy food. Next month, cookies!
Alice
Tag: Womens Fiction Book Meme
Contemporary, Historical, or Paranormal?
All the above! Seriously, I read them as they come to hand. I try to read more of whatever type I happen to be writing, but will often simply grab as the mood strikes me.
Hardback or Trade Paperback or Mass Market Paperback?
Mass Market
Heyer or Austen?
Both! Repeatedly.
Amazon or Brick and Mortar?
Brick and Mortar when I don’t know what I’m after. Amazon when I’m after something in particular.
Barnes & Noble or Borders?
Both. Preferably with a gift card in hand.
Woodiwiss or Lindsay?
Lindsay. I find Woodiwiss a little slow-paced.
First romance novel you ever remember reading?
Already blogged this. Not a straight answer.
Alphabetize by author Alphabetize by title or random?
Alphabetized? Hah! Heaped by just read, reading, going to read soon, and going to read sometime. Now and then they make it to a bookshelf.
Keep, Throw Away or Sell?
Keep if I absolutely love it or learned a particular lesson from it. Sell if I can. Um… we won’t talk about what happens to the rest.
Read with dustjacket or remove it?
Dustjacket? What dustjacket?
All right, on those rare occasions when I actually have a book with a dustjacket I keep it on. Generally I have to because I’m going to have to return the book in the condition I got it.
Sookie Stackhouse or Anita Blake?
Neither
Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks?
At the top of the nearest left side page. But then I only stopped because one of the kids wants to use the bathroom so I can’t hide there any longer.
It was a dark and stormy night or Once upon a time?
Once upon a time it was a dark and stormy night? If I’ll put up with the purple prose, I’ll put up with the backstory too. Maybe.
Crusie or SEP?
SEP? Yay Crusie!
Buy or Borrow?
Beg, borrow, buy, or check out from the library. I’ll take them any way I can get them.
Buying choice: Book Reviews, Recommendation or Browse?
Mostly Browse, but I can be moved by friends. I don’t read many reviews.
Tidy ending or Cliffhanger?
Depends. I hate cliffhangers that are forced, or that make me wait a year for the next book.
Morning reading, Afternoon reading or Nighttime reading?
Any time I can sneak off to the bathroom. They don’t call it Mommy’s Reading Room for nothing.
Series or standalone?
Both. But series will put me off if I happen in the middle and can’t figure out what’s going on.
Favorite book of which nobody else has heard?
No such thing.
I tag
Oh boy. Here comes the hard part. Hmmm….. Bev’s in revision Hell. Pam has been quiet lately, but I think she said something about being swamped. I’ll bet I can catch Kelly lurking, and maybe Christina. That’s it! I tag Kelly and Christina!
.
Alice
Post Cards From the Better Half
My dh, also known as Mr. Al, has been making his own post cards for years. He has an unusual sense of humor, which comes out in his cards. For years now I have been the only one privileged enough to see these cards. Now, in the spirit of a guest blog, I’d like to share them with you.
Warning. He tends to be a bit irreverent.
Mr. Al by way of Alice
Suzie’s House 4: … Or Broken….
When Vin brought his limping taxi into the Capital Cabs garage, the left fender rubbed the tire, the muffler scraped the ground noisily, and the right rear view mirror hung by a wire. At least Vin hoped the mirror still hung there. Considering the way it had flopped around during the worst of it, the mirror might be long gone. The smell of gasoline and oil assailed him as he got out from behind the wheel.
.
“Vinny, Vinny, Vinny. What are you doing with my cabs?” Walter came out of the office to inspect the damage as Vin attempted to close the driver’s side door. With a metallic screech of protest it popped open two or three times. “This is the third one this week.” Vin gave up as Walter glared at him. “Are you paying for this one too?” .“My client will. Relax, Walter. It’s covered.” Vin crossed his arms, turned around, and propped his butt on the wayward car door.
.
“It isn’t just the repair bill, Vinny. Now I have another cab out of commission and the first isn’t back from the shop yet.” .“It isn’t?” Drew would have his guts for garters if he couldn’t come up with a cab tomorrow. Without it they’d never catch the instigator of The Crash Course on video. He pulled the red beret off his head and shoved it into his back pocket. “I thought you said the repair guy was almost done.”
.
“Apparently the axle wasn’t good after all. They have to replace it. Why don’t you rent a car?” Walter spaced the words to make the suggestion a heavy-handed hint. He hadn’t wanted to loan his cabs to Vin to begin with. .“You’ll have to loan me another one. It’s important. Give me the oldest one you’ve got.”
.
“You’re worse than that Straus fellow who got drunk on the job. Unlike you and the rest of these clowns, he had an excuse for all the accidents.” Walter’s eyes moved with Vin’s hands as Vin pulled off the black-frame nerd glasses and the little brown mustache. .“Trust me. In the long run you’ll thank me.” Vin saw a familiar, feminine shape entering the garage. He felt like a deer in the headlights – unable to chose between talking Walter around and going to her. She won, but Walter would understand.
.
Vin stepped around his friend with a wave. “See you tomorrow.” .She dressed like a dominatrix today; black leather skirt, thigh-high leather boots, black bustier, black wig, and a little fringed purse that could double as a whip. Walter let out a low whistle. Vin ignored him.
.
“Marvin,” Miranda greeted in a Zsa Zsa Gabor voice. “I have marvelous news.” .When she gave him an air kiss by either cheek he resisted the urge to show her a real kiss. He and Miranda had an understanding. So long as he never crossed the line she would tolerate him. Every day she tolerated him, he got a little closer to what he really wanted. So he air kissed her, biding his time.
.
“I can’t wait to tell you,” Miranda gushed. “Remember that little problem you were telling me about?” .“Little problem?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. Typical Miranda to make him look bad in front of the guys.
.
“With your apartment. Didn’t you say the subletter wanted it back sooner than you expected?” Clearly oblivious to her slander on his manhood, Miranda gave him an impatient look. .“Yes.” He took her elbow and guided her out through the garage bay. After a moment, his mind caught up with her words.
.
He had told her the story of his near homelessness in the hopes she would invite him to move into her apartment with her, or at least let him crash for a few days. Of course it was completely true. He was about to lose his Spaight Street apartment when the sublease ran out, but he could afford to buy a house if he wanted. And as soon as Miranda agreed to be his bride, he’d let her pick one out. .Now, at last, it appeared she was going to invite him in. He hadn’t even had to wait until the last, pathetic moment in which to find some other place so she’d take pity on him. He felt like pumping his fist in the air, but managed to keep it to himself as they turned onto the sidewalk along Brearly and headed toward East Washington.
“What do you have in mind?” He prompted her. .
“Suzie’s house. She needs renters in order to cover the mortgage.”
So much for his hopes and dreams. “Suzie’s house?”
. “You don’t have to sound so down about it. It’ll be great. She’ll provide meals, and you know what a great cook she is. And it’s a lot nicer than either of our places. And it’ll always be clean without our having to worry about it.”.
“Wait. You’re moving in too?”
. “I’m moving in this afternoon!” Miranda grinned. When Miranda grinned, Vin’s world did a little spin as if it was a merry-go-round and she the central pillar. He grinned back. Her smile softened. “So you’ll do it? You’ll move in with us?”.
“Yes. Sure. Um… next week end. I can move in next weekend.” He made himself stop nodding. And grinning.
. “Great! Only one thing.” She gave him the sidelong look that always meant trouble. “We have to get Andrew to move in too.”.
Vin’s world stopped turning.
The previous was Suzie’s House 3: Rules Are Made to Be Bent…
This is Suzie’s House 4: …Or Broken…
Next is Suzie’s House 5: …. Or Completely Devastated.
