Bad Moon Rising!

Due to the extreme bad luck I started experiencing once the full moon began to rise last night, this week's installment of Winter's Child is post-poned until tomorrow.

I honestly believe that the full moon was cursed. I was having such a great day. Then it all went to Hell in a handbasket at breakneck speed. It's like I was being punished for having such a good week (up until then). It may even be worthy of a blog post. In fact, if I'm not able to get the installment done for tomorrow, I might just share my bad luck story instead. LOL

Novem Poetry Form

The Novem is another fun form, invented by Robin Skelton, a prolific writer and poet who was instrumental in creating the Creative Writing Department at the University of Victoria (British Columbia, Canada).

The number three is important to the Novem. It consists of three verses of three lines each, and each line has only three words. However, each line has four syllables - 2 one-syllable words, and 1 two-syllable word. Here’s the catch – the placement of the two-syllable word keeps moving. In the first line it appears at the end, in the second it’s in the middle, and in the last line it appears first. Also, you’re going to want to try to have one consonant sound repeating four times in each verse.

But here’s the good news, there is no restriction on subject matter, and there is no rhyme scheme. Getting the syllables in the right place can be a little tricky, but the more you do them, the easier they get. Which is why you’re getting two examples.


The wind rises
leaves rustle but
never let go

days grow colder
their colour starts
changing, they turn

I think autumn
is coming soon
winter comes too.


I see dragons
in sunlit glades
flying in arcs

I see faeries
and waltzing elves
mingling by glens

I see dreamworlds
of mythic gods
before I sleep.

Journaling Journey

Our pasts define us, yet memory is untrustworthy. By keeping a journal, I can capture those memories when they’re still reasonably fresh. Journaling helps me keep a narrative of my life. It keeps me honest with myself.
— John Dumas

Your journal will stand as a chronicle of your growth, your hopes, your fears, your dreams, your ambitions, your sorrows, your serendipities.
— Kathleen Adams

The true purpose of journaling is to celebrate your life. No matter how small or mundane or redundant, each drawing and little essay you write to commemorate an event or an object or a place makes it all the more special.
— Danny Gregory

When I last updated my journal, I realized I had only a few pages left before I’d need to start a new one. This left me in a quandary – do I go online and find a replacement journal, or do I use one of the many blank journals I have sitting on the bookcase behind me.

While this may seem like a no-brainer to most people, here’s the thing. I have a particular “type” when it comes to a personal journal. In my stack there is only one that fits the bill and I really hate to use it because it’s so beautiful. It has a dragon’s head embossed on the cover – too nice to be wasted for such a mundane purpose, right? On the other hand, that’s what it was given to me for. I guess I’m going to suck it up and use it anyway, and worry about the next journal when this one is full.

I’ve been keeping a journal for as long as I can remember. Not all of them were saved, and some of them were pretty sketchy, having more white space than not, but I think it’s safe to say I’ve kept one all of my adult life. One of my sisters is an avid journal-writer – she writes in hers pretty much every day. The other sister . . . not so much. She did when she was younger, but like many of us, found it too time consuming to keep up with.

Journals contain ten categories of life patterns: longing; fear, mastery; (intentional) silences; key influences; hidden lessons; secret gifts; challenges; unfinished business; untapped potential. Each category corresponds to a way we engage or hold back in life.
— Alexandra Johnson

You can call it a journal, a log, a diary, a chronicle, or notebook – whatever you want to call it, the idea is to create a written record of your thoughts, feelings, insights, and memories. More people than ever are keeping a journal these days. Here are a few reasons to start one:

To de-stress.
Sometimes the best therapy is to get things off your chest. A journal is the perfect place to do this. You can write about your thoughts and feeling, relieving your stress and anxiety as you do so. This only works if your honest with yourself though. But keep in mind there’s no judgement in a journal, no one’s going to see it. It’s an outlet for your emotional well-being.

Boost your creativity.
Writing in a journal can stimulate your imagination and creativity. It’s also a great place to capture ideas for future use. You can give free reign to your imagination. Here is a safe place where you can give birth to new ideas without having to censor yourself. Insights and solutions to a problem can result simply by writing about them.

Improve your memory.
Writing things down can act as a reminder of the meaningful things going on around you. You can reflect on past experiences, remembering details that might have been forgotten. This is the place to keep track of important events, people, and places that you don’t want to forget.

Improve your mental health.
A journal allows you to reflect on your thoughts and emotions. It can be an effective way to deal with symptoms of depression and anxiety. When you write about your feelings, it can help you process them, finding ways to cope with them. And it’s a healthy way to release all those pent-up emotions inside you to get them out of your system.

Motivation and satisfaction.
Writing down your goals can help keep you motivated. You can track your progress, gaining a sense of satisfaction when a goal is completed. Even completing a journal entry can give you that sense of accomplishment. You can reflect on daily activities and see how far you’ve come.

Help you to communicate better.
When you write about your experiences and emotions, it can help you better understand yourself, helping you to communicate better with others. It’s also a good way to show appreciation for the people in your life, expressing your gratitude towards them.

Leads to greater productivity.
Writing in a journal can allow you to prioritize tasks and make a plan for your day/week, which in turn can lead to greater productivity. One thing productive people seem to have in common is a system of organization that works for them. Having a written plan in your journal will help structure your time so that you can accomplish all of the tasks you set yourself.

Make a legacy.
Think of your journal as your gift for future generations, an insight into your life. It could become a valuable source of information for your descendants. It can show them what the world was like during your lifetime – your hopes and fears, your dreams, and your struggles and accomplishments. It could some day be a priceless legacy.

Join me here next week when I delve into some of the different kinds of journals you could keep.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

WORDAGE REPORT

THE WEEK IN REVIEW
The word for last week is . . . backslide.

While I’m doing all right on establishing my morning routine, I’m still getting distracted easily. I do well when I’m in my office in the mornings, but I still tend to linger in the living room (where I eat my lunch) and then it’s kind of a downward slide from there.

My blog posts were done, and up on time, but I had a couple of late nights to get them done. I was good on my journalling, and started a letter to one of my sisters, but not really any other writing.

This is very disappointing. I look back in my day planner and while I have several things jotted down for each day, none of it is very time consuming. I need to start having lunch at the dining room table so I’ll be more inclined to go back to my office afterwards.

The weather is still very much fall-like. Cool enough in the mornings that you need a jacket when you go out, but it warms up rather quickly when the sun is shining, which it’s been doing most days.

Things don’t seem to be as much of a struggle (mentally), I just seem to have backslid into my old habits of procrastination and time-wasting. I can’t help thinking of the song by Trans-Siberian Orchestra that goes: “I wasted my time until time wasted me.” But the only one who can do something about that is me.

NEW WORDS:
2448+639+291+803=4,181
DOWN: 478 – words

I kinda knew the word count would be down from the week before, but that’s because my posts were all shorter. I know, that’s a pretty obvious conclusion, but seriously. Most weeks the different posts will vary both up and down by a few words, but last week the posts all turned out a little shorter. I just said what I had to say in fewer words. It happens.

I took forever trying to figure out what I wanted to write about for last Sunday’s post. The post-COVID thing was sparked by a conversation I had during the stitch-in at the library, where we talked about all the changes that have been going on since then, and not always for the better. I spent way too much time on the internet checking out how it’s affected other writers, but not enough to really get into depth on my topic.

Monday was a picture post, which is usually short on words. Then I took forever to decide on a form for Wednesday’s poetry post – the well for them is starting to run dry. Yes, more forms are invented every day, but I like to be able to talk a bit about their origins and information is not all that forthcoming.

Friday’s post was pared down quite a bit. While the creature’s point of view is important, I don’t want it taking over the story, so I only included the important parts. Guess I’d better start figuring out what I’m going to do for Fiction Fridays when this story is done.

Goals For Next Week:
Try to get the blog posts done a little earlier; find some other writing to work on.

EDITING:
??? Hours

To be honest, I didn’t spend all that much time thinking about Elemental Spirit. Didn’t I say I work better with hard copy pages?

I did pull my notes out for the Illezie, the historic records (that I was planning on starting each chapter with), and the prophecy, but they got buried under a pile of other printouts and I kind of forgot about them. Out of sight, out of mind. *sigh*

And I’m going to have to start marking down the start/stop times for editing because even the super old unsupported version of TraxTime is no longer available. At least not through any sites I have access to. So, old fashioned it is.

Meanwhile, there’s this other book I started writing several years ago that has been on my mind. It’s actually the first in a series of three. I don’t remember if I actually finished it or not, nor how bad of shape it’s in, but I’m having to be firm with myself to ignore the impulse to open it up. I will never get Elemental Spirit finished if I allow myself to be side tracked.

Goal For Next Week:
Ignore my other WIPs that are clamoring for editing and stay focused on Elemental Spirit. Eyes on the prize!

POETRY:
I had a hard time picking a poetry form last week. One was a little too complicated for the time I had, and a couple more were invented forms that I couldn’t find any extra information about.

The Landay was a simple enough form, but there was a LOT of information available about it. And then I got side-tracked by the article Poetry Magazine had written on the subject, which gave the whole form more depth than is apparent at first glance.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my poetry lately. I feel like all I do any more are the forms, and I’m running out of new ones to share. I don’t know what this means for my poetry for the future, but it’s something I’m ruminating on.

And it serves me right. I did NOT write myself a note for my desk, reminding me to at least start printing out my poems to update my big book o’ poems, so I didn’t. Seriously, what is wrong with me?

Goal For Next Week:
Find a new form to share; work on the extra forms. Print poems to update big book o’ poems.

CRAFTING:
I am seriously starting to wonder what I do with all my time! Not only did I not work on my zentangle sampler, I didn’t even figure out what I’m putting in the next square. I’m going to have to step up my game if I want to have it done and turned into a tote bag for November.

The only work I did on the kit was during the stitch-in at the library, but I did get a lot of the satin stitching done, which is my least favorite stitch. Once it’s finished I think I should turn my attention to that non-existent list of Christmas crafts.

I decided against trying to squeeze in the time to sew a skirt or two at this time. Maybe I’ll do it when I’m a little more organized with my other stuff. It’s not the sewing that’s putting me off, it’s having to cut out the pieces for it. Having to set up the table in the office/library so the cats don’t bother me is a bit of a pain.

Goal For Next Week:
Work on my zentangle; work on the kit I started.

WHAT I’M READING:
I’m about halfway though Trashlands by Alison Stine. Slow and steady wins the race I guess. But I want to finish it this week because I have other books waiting to be read. :-D

As a punishment for spending too much time reading on my Kindle, I’ve been trying to limit myself to only reading while on the exercise bike. So last week I read Wild Nights With a Lone Wolf, by Elisabeth Staab, and I’m about halfway through A Midlife Shifter’s Dream, by Ruby Raine.

Goal For Next Week:
Keep up the non-binging of books.

THE WEEK AHEAD:

I think that new leaf I turned over is starting to take root, but it needs fertilizer or something.

While I seem to be doing better at starting my day out right, it does tend to fall apart by mid-day. And nothing seems to have changed during my evenings – if I’m not scrambling to get a blog post done, then I’m playing games on the laptop.

Next week is going to be super busy for me. I have an appointment with my mental health counsellor on Monday, a meeting with the stitchery guild on Tuesday morning, followed by an appointment with a new dietician, and Wednesday there’s a gathering with the poetry group. Then Thursday morning I’ll be loading my bags into the car and heading for Kingston for Writersfest. Oh, and if there’s time, Monday there might be a trip to Costco.

This means there will be no dilly-dallying and time wasting!

I would really like to have the installment of Winter’s Child ready to go before I leave, but I need to distill the creature’s part and figure out where her little speeches are going to fit in.

The editing didn’t go all that well last week, and I’m pretty sure it’s not going to go much better this week. But I do plan to take my notes with me, and the rest is on the computer. Going by previous years, once I’m at Writersfest my evenings will be free, and as I recall, the television options are pretty limited. I do have access to streaming services on my laptop, but I really don’t like using it for that.

As for poetry . . . well, as I said I have a poetry gathering on Wednesday, so I probably need to do some poemwork for that, as well my regular poetry post. I’m hoping I can find a form that’s quick and easy. Maybe something that doesn’t rhyme. LOL

I think there’s going to be a presentation by someone who does beadwork at the stitchery guild meeting. It should be really interesting, and maybe it’ll revive my interest in doing beadwork myself. If not, I should seriously think about re-homing some of my supplies.

I’m in a quandary about the kit I’ve been working on. Should I set it aside and focus on my sampler, or should I finish it first? I’ll probably take it with me to the meeting, in case there’s time to do some stitching after the presentation – it’s just easier to work on. But after that I feel like I should focus on my zentangle. Maybe instead of trying to work free-hand, like I did with the first square, draw a few guidelines on the next square like I did the previous one.

I did well with my exercise last week, and I plan on taking my hand weights with me to Kingston. My hotel sits right on a fabulous walking trail, so, weather permitting, I’ll be getting a lot of walking in instead of riding the stationary bike.

So much to do this week, and very limited time in which to do it. But I’ve always said I work better under pressure, so who knows, maybe I’ll get everything I want to do done. Wouldn’t that be surprising? I might even get to relax and enjoy my writing conference.

Stranger things have happened.

Winter’s Child – Part 15

I am the last. Indisputably the last of my Clan, most probably the last of my kind. We’ve been here since the world was born. We watched the lower life forms evolve and die; we survived through cataclysm and ice age. In the end, all it took was the coming of you humans to bring our race to its knees.

My race has no name, we needed none. We just are. Were. Call us the First Ones, if you must label us, for we were here first; long before your ancestors crawled out of the primordial ooze.

I am older than you can imagine. I can remember when my race was pure, long before the ice age taught us about death and dying. We were a race of artisans, musicians, scientists–peaceful and peace loving. Our days and nights were filled with music and dancing and laughter.

We had reached our peak and begun a slow, inevitable slide into ennui when the ice age began and the lesser beasts began dying out. Our scientists thought, at first, that the cold was a temporary thing, as with the changing of the seasons, but then calculations proved we could not outlast the cold should it come to either building well stocked shelters against it or even hibernation. Relocating was pointless as well.

Many died before we found a way to adapt to the cold. It was a great transformation, and when it was done we were changed. No longer were we creatures of the light and warmth, instead we embraced the cold, thrived in it.

Our metabolism adapted to our needs–we had no need for your layers of clothing; warm or cold it was all the same to us. The earth underwent many changes and we grew and adapted to each change. Countless species evolved and grew extinct. We thought you humans would be more of the same. To our great sorry, you were not.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

She stood in the shadows of the trees, watching him. At least he thought it was a she, it was hard to tell. She was tall and thin and white and looked like a picture from the story book Joey got for his birthday.

When she realized he saw her, she made as if to leave, but Joey called out, “Wait. Don’t go.”

She stopped, but looked like she was ready to run any second.

Someone else might have mistaken her for Jack Frost, or maybe one of the frost fairies from the old movie Fantasia, the one his mother made him watch, but Joey knew who and what she was. This was one of Winter's children. There was no doubt in his mind.

He knew he should be afraid, Grandpa's stories had been clear on that, but she didn’t seem scary at all. In fact, she seemed kind of scared herself. She was kind of pretty really. She was wearing a short dress out of a shimmery white material, and her feet were bare. Her hair was short and spikey, like Jodi, his second favorite babysitter.

They stared at one another for a few minutes, then Joey said, “It’s okay. I know what you are. You’re one of Winter’s children, aren’t you?” He smiled and slowly she smiled back.

“Do you live around here?” He knew she probably didn’t, but he was trying to be polite. Mom was always telling him to mind his manners.

She cocked her head but didn’t answer. Maybe she didn’t understand what he was saying. There was a new kid in his kindergarten class who came from Japan and he didn’t always understand what people were saying because he didn’t speak English very good.

“My name’s Joey, what’s yours?” Maybe if he kept talking she’d understand.

Again, she didn’t answer, but she kept smiling. The more he talked, the more she seemed to relax.

“I think I’m lost,” Joey admitted. “Do you know how to get to my house?”

Still not speaking, she beckoned him to follow. Joey hesitated only a moment, then stepped forward to take her hand.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11,  Part 12 Part 13, Part 14,

Landay Verse Form

The Landay is a traditional form from Afghanistan. The name means short, poisonous snake in Pashto.

It is an uneven couplet, having nine syllables in the first line and thirteen syllables in the second. There can be as many independent couplets as you wish, but the final one should end with a “ma” or “na” sound.

While the Landay can rhyme, usually it does not. It’s meant to be a sharp, witty poem, generally dealing with such topics as war, grief, separation, and love, and often criticized traditions and gender roles. They were originally meant to be sung, usually by women.

You can find a fascinating article about the Landay and its importance to Afghani women in Poetry Magazine

Okay, I tried to write my Landay using the traditional subjects, but I failed miserably. But my example does follow the nine/thirteen format.


Contrast

A cold wind sweeps inland, waves crashing,
while those with no where else to go shiver in the dark.

The detritus that is left behind —
broken dreams and hard living, scattering like sea shells.

No permanence for the likes of you
move along, move along, don’t let those roots sink too deep.

The rain comes, but our roof does not leak,
it is cold and dark, but we are safe and warm inside.

We are untouched by what lies outside
and turn a blind eye to the tents on federal land.

We take our privilege for granted
saying prayers each night to avoid accruing karma.

Fallout

The frightening assaults of pandemic terror have vastly increased our vulnerability. At the outset, hope and humor were able to alleviate the sabotage of our living together, until bit by bit, the raging roars and the thundering crashes of the death toll called the shots. The ground zero of our mental structure must inevitably make us remold another thinking pattern.
― Erik Pevernagie

The world needs huge positive energy to fight against the negative forces. Go to the center of your inner begin and generate that positive energy for the welfare of the humanity.
― Amit Ray

It is the poets, artists, and musicians that will carry us through the pandemic attacks into a new reality. They are the ones who tell us how to navigate, breathe, feel, think, enjoy, and fully live our lives. (“Because the world had corona”)
― Erik Pevernagie

There were three of us manning the display booth at the fair yesterday morning, and we were talking about how much we hated technology and how much we resented it being forced upon us. I believe what prompted this was how the city of Toronto is changing their parking meters to ones that you have to use your phone to access.

Anyway, this segued into a discussion about the pandemic, and about how the world has changed – how so much was taken away from us that we’ll never get back. So then I started thinking about how the pandemic changed things, especially when it came to writing and writers.

The first issue we had to deal with was the isolation. I know many writers who are in the habit of using coffee shops for their office. Even when you’re not being social at a café, you’re surrounded by voices, the sounds of people interacting, and the energy of others. Suddenly, this was taken away. They were, in effect, cut off from the world.

Worries and fears became a form of procrastination. Doubts formed. Real world events made fiction seem rather pointless. When the world around us has changed so drastically, who can muster the energy to worry about the lives of fictional people? If you weren’t careful, things could start seeming pointless.

For some, however, the pandemic with its lockdown didn’t really change anything. Writing is already a solitary endeavor. When real life becomes too overwhelming, we can take out our imaginary friends to play with. And the lack of being able to travel left more time to focus on the writing.

The pandemic was an event of historical, epic proportions. History will remind us of the challenges we faced and the losses we suffered. But it also taught us perseverance. We did not give up but triumphed over adversity.

It allowed us to be more in touch with nature as we stayed away from social gatherings. People planted gardens and went out for walks. Some learned to stay in touch using technology, like Zoom.

While some took advantage of their lockdown time and accomplished great things, or at least made good use of their time, others . . . did not. I have to admit, I did not handle the pandemic well. I found it a little overwhelming and, like many others, I tended to withdraw into myself rather than deal with it.

Like it or not, there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle. The pandemic changed the world in ways we’re still discovering. Things will never be the same.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

WORDAGE REPORT

THE WEEK IN REVIEW
The word for last week is . . . hopeful.

While I still have not got that new leaf turned over, neither have I stomped it right into the ground. The week started out fairly slow, but then seemed to gain momentum as it progressed.

Remember how I used to start out my weeks strong and then they’d peter right out? Well, I seem to be doing the opposite now. But it wasn’t entirely my fault. Yes, I did take Monday off and spent the day reading, but I regretted it the following day when I had my dental appointment and really didn’t feel like doing anything while I recovered.

I rallied on Wednesday and put in a very satisfactory day’s work. Ditto for Thursday. Friday was okay, but it’s usually a short day for writing anyway. It might have been a better week if I hadn’t blown off Monday, but all in all it wasn’t a bad week at all.

Thankfully, the weather has turned more fall-like. The days are still sunny, but not so hot. And the nights are cool enough to sleep comfortably. Yep, it’s my favorite time of the year!

NEW WORDS:
2600+734+405+920=4,659
UP: 207 – words

I have to confess, other than Friday’s serial installment, I was late with every one of my blog posts last week. Not late as in getting them up late, they all showed up on time, but late as in late getting them written. And that includes Monday’s post.

Why was Friday different? Because as I said, my week got better as it went along, and I spent more time in my office. I even watered my plants so their dying wouldn’t distract me. LOL

I’ve been using the original short story I wrote as a kind of outline for Winter’s Child, and I have to say it makes a big difference. I can’t believe how smoothly this serial story is going (*knock on wood*). I’m starting to think there might be something to this plotting business after all. ;-)

I’m still spending too much time just farting around on the computer, and I didn’t really need to spend an entire day reading, but then again, maybe I did. I don’t need to be productive all of the time. I deserve a little downtime once in awhile, don’t I?

Goals For Next Week:
Try to get the blog posts done a little earlier; find some other writing to work on.

EDITING:
Last week – 32 pages
Total pages – 149 pages

Once again I did a little bit of editing at a time, fitting it between other stuff, and it paid off. The first run through is done. After this I’ll have to switch to keeping track of my time instead of my pages. Not quite sure how I’ll do this – there used to be a really cool application called TraxTime, But it hasn’t been supported for 10 or more years, and I haven’t been able to find anything like it. I might have to do it the old-fashioned way and use my watch, recording my start and stop times and doing the math.

The good news is, Elemental Spirit isn’t is as bad of shape as I thought. The bad news is, there’s still a lot of work to be done. Especially in the first half. I need to figure out the prophecy and what’s going on with the Illezie. The good news is that the second half just needs to be fleshed out with more detail. And yeah, character lists with details will definitely help to make my characters more three-dimensional.

Goal For Next Week:
Pick a notebook for character sketches and ideas. Figure out how I’m going to time myself.

POETRY:
I picked a somewhat longer form to do for last week, however, I blew off Monday and was forced to find a shorter form to do Tuesday. It’s funny how distracting pain can be. And how muddled your thinking becomes when you take something for it.

But while I was looking through my list of unused forms, I pulled out a few to be working on when I get the chance, just so I’ll have a few done ahead of time. You never know when there might be a poetry emergency. And I’ve left the files for these forms right on my desk top so I can’t miss them. br>
I made no progress on updating my big book o’ poems. Maybe I’ll write myself a note and stick it to my desk. Something like: Don’t forget to start printing out poems! Think it’ll work? It probably couldn’t hurt.

Goal For Next Week:
Find a new form to share; work on the extra forms. Print poems to update big book o’ poems.

CRAFTING:
I finished my second square on my zentangle sampler, and I have the box ready for the third. I haven’t quite settled on the stitches for that one, but it will be several different ones, not just a single stitch like the last square. Maybe something with angles instead of curves.

Tuesday was a regular meeting with the stitchery guild. There was a large turn-out, which was nice to see, although I kind of like the smaller group that meets at the library just as much. It was mentioned that we were once again putting out a display at the fair in the next town, and volunteers were needed to help set up, tear down, and man the table during fair hours. A sheet was passed around, and it was kind of sad to see how few people were willing to spend a couple of hours doing their part.

I went and helped set up, and volunteered to man the table for a couple of hours both Saturday and today. And I’ll be going over later today and to help tear down again. And yes, I was actually able to get some stitching done during my shifts.

I like wearing skirts. That’s my favourite part about the summer – sundresses and skirts. And just because the weather is cooling off I see no reason to give up my skirts. Somewhere in my fabric stash I have two pieces of a very fine corduroy that had been purchased with skirts in mind. I just have to find them.

Goal For Next Week:
Work on my zentangle; pick a pattern and material to make a new skirt (or two).

WHAT I’M READING:
Still making progress on Trashlands by Alison Stine, although my reading slowed down a bit last week.

I finished Bearly a Chance, by Krystal Shannon, Dragon’s Captive, by Cassie Alexander, and Tiger's Gambit, by Minette Moreau. Now I’m between books again.

However, I updated my Goodreads (finally!) and I am 6 books past my goal for the year. My goal was to read 50 books for the year, and I’ve read 56.

Goal For Next Week:
Try and even out the reading between the tree books and the Kindle.

THE WEEK AHEAD:

I’m taking one more shot at turning over a new leaf, because you can only turn over a leaf so many times before it becomes mulch. But if that happens, I’ll just come up with a new plan.

This week I have a coffee date on Monday, a stitch-in at the library on Tuesday, and Thursday I play chauffeur to the hubby who needs a ride to and from the hospital for his five-year post cancer colonoscopy. And there might be a trip to Costco squeezed in there at some point, but that’s only a possibility.

Winter’s Child may not end up as long as I would have liked, but I still really like the way it’s turning out. I’ll have to see if there’s another one of my failed short stories I could try this with. Who knows, I could end up with a volume of short stories, as opposed to my volumes of flash stories.

The editing went well last week, and as much as I hate to leave the hard copy behind, it’s time to start making changes to the electronic version. But first, there’s still handwritten parts to be done. Like the Akash prophecy, the hierarchy and role of the Illezie, and the character sketches. I’m starting to feel like I’ve only got the tip of the editing iceberg under my belt. Time to dive deep this week.

I’ve been putting off updating my big book o’ poems the same way I was doing with the editing. Time to suck it up and just do it, maybe break it down into manageable parts. I can go through the poems first and make sure they all have a date on them, then print them out. I might get it done this week, chances are good it’ll take more than a week. But I gotta start somewhere.

Now that I’m making progress on my zentangle again, I need to figure out just how big a tote bag I want to make. Do I want to have six squares on the side, or nine? Nine would bean I have to cut another piece of material to make the other side, and then sew it together, I couldn’t just fold it in half. Although the benefit there is that I could make a reinforced bottom for it. And do I want to do zentangle on both sides, or do I want to do an applique on the other side?

I did nothing towards a Christmas craft list last week, and I’m pretty sure I won’t get it done either. Nor did I check out that new crafting kit I’ve got. Maybe I need to make a separate list of craft related things I want to do this week.

Part of my turning over a new leaf is supposed to be getting regular exercise, and I have to admit I’ve been very slack in that department the last few weeks, and I’m beginning to feel it. It’s strange though, I’m getting up at pretty much the same time as I was, so I’ve got lots of time to get my workout in, I just . . . don’t.

I don’t know what it is. Maybe because it’s so extra dark in the mornings now. If that’s the case, I need to get over it, because it’s not going to be getting bright again until next spring. Time for some tough love, I guess. No reading on the Kindle unless I’m on the bike. *sigh*

I should print out this section of the wordage report and post it on my desk. Just to remind myself of my goals for the week.

Think it’ll help?

Winter’s Child – Part 14

The snow wasn’t as deep in the woods as it had been in the back yard, but Joey wouldn’t have cared if it was. He was on a mission, a secret mission for his grandpa. He could pretend to be one of those monster hunters, like grandpa liked to watch on television.

He pushed through the brush and ducked under low hanging branches, the fresh air tasted cold on his tongue. Things would be different, he was sure they would be. Back when grandpa had been living with them there were lots of times when he was supposed to be sleeping that he heard his parents fighting about grandpa and grandpa’s stories.

They didn’t believe him, but Joey knew the stories were true. Grandpa said so. And the fighting didn’t stop after his grandpa left, either. They started arguing about something called “misplaced guilt” and that being taken off the mountain was what killed grandpa.

Joey knew, deep down, that all he had to do to make things right was to find one of Winter’s children. Then his mom and dad would know that grandpa’s stories weren’t fibs and they’d stop fighting. Everything would be okay again, and grandpa could come home from that place he had to go to. Heaven, they called it.

After wandering deeper into the woods for an hour or more, Joey started to get tired. The clouds of steam puffing from his mouth intrigued him and he sat down with a quiet plop in the snow to rest for a while and watch himself breathe.

Even when he went on rambles with grandpa he’d never been so far into the woods before. It was real quiet out here. And even though he thought he knew where the path grandpa had talked about was, things looked really different with snow all over them. Not for a minute did he think he was lost though.

He rested until the puffs of air from his mouth got smaller, ignoring the melting snow seeping through his snow pants. At last, curiosity satiated, he climbed to his feet to continue on his way. A snap from ahead sounded loudly in the silence. He looked up and froze.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

James and Maggie took their time coming home from the luncheon. Between their busy work schedules and the stress of first looking after Joseph, then dealing with his estate, they hadn’t been able to engage socially in a long time.

“I think we should try to do this more often,” James said as they drove towards home.

“What, go to a faculty luncheon?”

“Very funny. No, I mean go out to lunch or dinner. Be among other adults once in a while.”

“Like a date?” Maggie suggested.

James took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. “Exactly. A date. Maybe we could even swing dinner and a movie once in a while.”

“Or the theatre?” Maggie asked wistfully.

“Let’s not get carried away,” James said, chuckling when she mock-punched him in the arm. “I think that was very sweet of you to buy that new video game for him because we left him behind to do grown up things.”

“Yes, but I'm sure it’ll mean more to him that you turned down a game of pool and a chance to play poker tomorrow so you could stay home and play in the snow with him.”

“I’m sure we’ll build a veritable army of snowmen.”

“He does love his snowmen,” Maggie said with a sigh.

They made it home and James left the car idling in case Christine needed a ride home. A white-faced Christine met them at the door.

Fear clutched at James’s throat. “Christine? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I—I—can’t find Joey.”

Maggie pushed by her and into the house. Unmindful of the snow she was tracking in, she swept through the house, calling Joey’s name.

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” James barked.

Tears filled Christine’s eyes. “He wanted me to go build snowmen with him, but I told him not until it stopped snowing. I thought he was in his room playing, but I just checked and he’s not there. I couldn’t find him anywhere in the house. I’m so sorry, Mr. Preston. I don’t know where he is.”

“James?” Maggie called from the back door. “You need to see this.”

James hurried to the back door, Christine trailing after him. Maggie pointed wordlessly to the empty peg where Joey’s snowsuit usually hung. The bench by the door had been dragged over to just under it.

James flung open the back door and took in the scene at a glance. Trampled snow everywhere. Snow balls for a snowman arranged side by side. And a trail of small footprints leading into the woods.

“Joey!” James called. “Joey, where are you buddy? Time to come home now. Joey!”

But there was no answer.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, 

Haibun Verse Form

The Haibun, which means haikai writings in Japanese, is an interesting form that combines both prose and Haiku. Its origins can be traced back to the 17th century and one of Japan’s most famous poets, Matsuo Basho. It is called a prosimetric form, a term which comes from prosa, meaning prose, and metrum, meaning verse.

It begins with a prose narrative or personal essay like passage, which typically describes a scene, a journey, an experience, or a memory. It’s written in a concise and vivid manner, and often incorporates sensory details and emotional insights.

The Haibun ends with a Haiku, which is intended to serve as a brief reflection that compliments the prose. The Haiku can echo an image, expand on your theme, or create a different perspective, but at the same time it needs to establish a connection with the prose section.

The prose is pretty much self-explanatory, all you need is the ability to write a paragraph. You can include things in the prose that you do not have space for in the Haiku, but at the same time, you do not want the prose to overpower the Haiku.

The Haibun will typically avoid using a first person perspective, using more objective description instead. It often explores themes of nature or the seasons, or it could be personal introspection.

You can extend the length of your Haibun by alternating segments of prose and Haiku until you reach the length you wish. Most of the examples I came across, however, have shown only one of each. My own example only has one of each, but I would like to explore this form further, creating a longer Haibun.


It is hard to trust the Weather Network’s report of a day of sunshine when the rain comes sweeping in from across the lake. The smell of ozone accompanies the symphony of thunder as the water churns, whitecaps forming on the crests – the lake is angry. Meanwhile the flowers in the garden bow under the driving force of the rain. Steam rises from the hot earth as the clouds clear, only to repeat the pattern another day.

dark clouds over the
surface of the black water—
chased by a pale sun.

Back to Class!

Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young.
— Henry Ford

The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.
— Dr. Seuss

Those people who develop the ability to continuously acquire new and better forms of knowledge that they can apply to their work and lives will be the movers and shakers in our society for the indefinite future.
— Brian Tracy

I used to do editing work for a woman who self-published a series of romantic adventure novellas. She did everything herself – the writing and the printing, and the selling of them at the local farmer’s market. When she reached her sixteenth book, she quit. She’d reached the number of books she’d envisioned, and that was that.

The thing is, she took a writing course through correspondence and decided she knew everything there was to know about writing. She had absolutely no interest in any learning beyond the course - she was an expert after all. This meant there was no progression in the quality of her writing - it stayed the same from the first book to the last.

My feeling is, there’s always something new to learn, whether it’s writing techniques or research technique. Continuing education helps you keep up with the current trends. Do you really want to spend a lot of time and effort on a story that in all likelihood isn’t going to sell?

Knowledge is power, and the more you know the more confident you will feel in what you’re doing. Maybe your writing has been feeling stagnant lately, a class or two where you’re learning something new is a good way to freshen things up. It might even generate some new ideas, or new ways to present old ideas.

Taking a class can also help you gain experience. The exercises you’ll be required to do give you practice at your craft. And learning is good for your cognitive health. It stimulates the brain, which in turn stimulates the imagination.

If you’re a freelance writer, continuing education is even more important. It helps you stay up-to-date on current trends, provides networking opportunities, and helps diversify your portfolio. Learning to write fiction can boost your creativity, making your non-fiction pieces more interesting. It can help you create stories people will care about.

So, now that you’ve decided a class or two might be interesting, where do you start?

Well, often your local college offers continuing education, or general interest courses for adults. Or if a classroom setting isn’t for you, there are plenty of writing books out there. Not only are these books loaded with information you can refer back to, they have exercises for you to do. There is also a plethora of online courses available, you have only to do a Google search to find one to suit you.

Or you could choose a variety. While I have several writing books for reference, and I fully intend to try out a few of those on-line courses, I have also taken a couple of night school classes at a nearby college.

But my jam is writing retreats. There is nothing quite like getting away for a few days and surrounding yourself with other writers to learn something new. I’ve learned something from every retreat I’ve been on and come home refreshed and full of knowledge.

Well, all except for the first retreat I went on. I came back from that one with a severe sinus infection. :-)

So don’t hesitate, go take that class.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

WORDAGE REPORT

THE WEEK IN REVIEW
Last week’s word would have to be . . . encouraging.

I figured the Labour Day weekend, being the last long weekend of the summer, would be the perfect time to turn over a new leaf and get my act together. Well . . . the holiday Monday I overslept and then spent the rest of the day trying to catch up, but Tuesday I was pretty much right on target.

The rest of the week I felt pretty blah and lethargic, but I got what I had to get done finished, didn’t have to stay up extra late to do it, and spent more time in my office than I have been lately. So even though my “turning of the leaf” only lasted one day, I’m still feeling encouraged.

I’m hoping that part of my unmotivated state last week was because our weather became hot and humid again, which means I was pretty much holed up in the house with the doors and windows sealed shut – the temperature didn’t even drop at night.

However, Friday evening a miracle happened and it began to cool off. In fact, it cooled off enough in the evening that I threw open the doors and windows and breathed in the healthy fresh air, that stuffed my nose up only slightly with allergies. Small price to pay.

Yesterday, with the doors and windows open in the morning, it was actually a little on the chilly side. I LOVED it! Welcome Fall!

NEW WORDS:
2566+564+455+867=4,452
DOWN: 70 – words

Okay, seriously, that’s not bad at all! Especially considering there were no late nights and I was only late with last Sunday’s post because I was away all of the day before. If I was early with any of the posts, it wasn’t by much, but I’ll take it anyway.

The installment for Winter’s Child went fairly well, but I feel like there’s some spark missing. Maybe it’s because I was writing from Joey’s point of view instead of James’s. It wasn’t quite what I had intended, but we’ll see what happens this week.

I caught myself a couple of times last week just farting around, playing computer games because I couldn’t think of anything better to do. Hopefully this week, with the return of the cooler weather as a motivating factor, I’ll find something a little more constructive to do with my time.

Goals For Next Week:
Try to get the blog posts done a little earlier; find some other writing to work on.

EDITING:
Last week – 77 pages
Total pages – 117 pages

Well, it just goes to show what you can accomplish when you work at something a little bit every day.

There are a lot of places where this needs to be smoothed out, and a lot more detail that needs to be added. One thing I’m going to do is make a character list, and jot down a few attributes for each one so I can flesh them out more. I’m working with a rather large group, which most people will tell you is a no-no, but it can’t be helped.

There are also way too many places where I have *planet name* or *needs alien name* and I’ll have to go through and figure those out. Good excuse to break out one of my notebooks, eh? But not a big one, because this is the last book in the series,

A story bible is something I should have done from the start, and I might have, if I’d thought it was going to be a series. But you know what they say about hind sight, it’s always 20/20. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I do have some of this stuff written down. For sure I know I have a list of alien words . . . somewhere. Not a whole language, mind you, just the odd word here and there.

Might be a good idea to hunt that up.

Goal For Next Week:
Continue first read-thru for editing.

POETRY:
Last week’s form was one of the dreaded coded Welsh forms, and it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

The one thing I didn’t like about it was the four syllable lines, especially when they had to rhyme. It really doesn’t give you a lot of wiggle room. Because of this, my example wasn’t exactly note-worthy, but it’s passable.

No other poetry news for the week – no gatherings, or poems written. Not even printing out any of the poems I keep saying I’m going to do to update my big book o’ poems.

Goal For Next Week:
Get a new form ready to share, update my big book ‘o poems.

CRAFTING:
No more baby sitting means no more crafting with the granddaughter. And honestly, not a lot of incentive to do any crafting otherwise.

There was a stitch-in at the library, which only a few of us attended, but it was still a fun time, and I even got some stitching done on my second floral kit.

I did spend some time considering my zentangle sampler, and I’ve settled on the stitch for the next square. Should be simple enough to do. I think I’d like to try and get it done before I go to the stitchery retreat in November. Not sure if that’s possible, but it’s something to shoot for. Although if I’m going to use it as a tote bag, I should probably do something on the other side as well. Maybe something in applique.

Goal For Next Week:
Consider my zentangle as a tote bag; organize my jewelry stuff.

WHAT I’M READING:
Still reading Trashlands by Alison Stine. I slowed right down, not because of the book, but because it’s easier to read the electronic books.

Despite not using the exercise bike last week, I picked up speed on the Kindle. I read Thorrn, by Skye MacKinnon, which featured really cool, Scottish aliens. Then followed up with Knock Down Dragon Out, I’m Not Lion to You, and Bearly Hanging On, all by Krystal Shannon and I’ve just started Bearly a Chance. This series of shapeshifting romances are set in Alaska.

Goal For Next Week:
Try and even out the reading between the tree books and the Kindle.

THE WEEK AHEAD:

I’m definitely trying that whole turning over the new leaf thing again, starting with today. There are only a couple of things that might interfere this week. On Monday I have an appointment with my mental health counsellor, which I think will be more of a help than a hindrance. But Tuesday I have the first regular stitch-in with my guild, which I will have to leave early to make my dental appointment.

I don’t mind saying that I’m a little nervous about this dental appointment. This is the tooth that was supposed to be a root canal, only the dentist who did the drilling out part only gave me a temporary filling, assuming my regular dentist would fill it for me. Well, she claimed she couldn’t because my gum started to bleed. So she had me see a periodontist, who did something to that tooth ($1300 for 15 minutes work) and then told me I had to wait two months before he could finish whatever it was he started and then I’d have to have the dentist do their part immediately after.

And even at that, there’s no guarantee they can save the tooth. Pulling it is NOT. AN. OPTION!

If they still can’t give me a permanent filling, then they can give me another temporary one and I will either have the work finished properly by a different dentist, or I will have an implant by a different dentist. This tooth is on the lower right side in the front, and I am not losing a tooth there right before I go to Writersfest.

Winter’s Child is moving along nicely. I updated the progress bar and I’m at over 11,000 words, which is 38% of the way to my goal of 30,000 words. That’s not even halfway, and I’m about halfway through the story. BUT, I already have three times as much story at this point as I had in the entire original story, so you never know.

I made excellent progress on my editing last week, but it’s opened up a whole can of worms of things that need to be fixed. Like, there’s one place where I guess I was having trouble with a scene because I rewrote it three times and left a note that I still wasn’t happy with it. And before you ask, remember that this was a NaNo novel, so every word is sacred and you don’t delete anything. ;-)

But trust me. Once I’ve finished the first read through (hopefully this week) I’ll be using both my print copy (because it’s easier to find stuff) and the electronic copy, and I’ll be keeping track of my hours instead of my pages. I’m still mostly liking what I’m seeing, but it needs a lot of work to whip it into shape.

Once again, I find myself in need of creating a balance. I’m getting better at controlling my binge reading, but last week I found myself binge editing, which didn’t leave a lot of time for other stuff, like poetry. I’m not saying I want to write more poems, but I really would like to get my big book o’ poems updated.

I think if I print them out a few at a time every day, I might get them all printed out this week, and then I can file them all in the big black binder when I’m done. Or maybe spend an hour each day printing and then filing. Whatever works, I guess. AND I have to remember to date them, as best I can, something that was not done to my earlier poems.

Now that I know there’s no rush on those floral kits (because there’s no craft sale) I want to re-focus my attention on my zentangle. I suspect I need nine squares to fill out the one side, and I’m starting square two. *sigh* It’s never going to be done in time to take it to the retreat if I don’t start working on it though.

And at the very least I want to make a list of Christmas crafts for potential presents. Jewelry would be the easiest, but I also bought this cool kit that uses thread and beads or sequins in kind of a punch it way, and supposedly you can make appliques this way. I should really check it out. Again, this is something that I could work at a little each day, but knowing me, I’ll probably wait until I can spend a whole afternoon on it.

I also need to find a better balance between my tree reading and my electronic reading. But it’s hard when you queue up a book on the Kindle and find that it’s a box set. Maybe I should make a deal with myself – no electronic reading unless I’m riding the bike. Ha! We’ll see how that works out.

Cross your fingers for me.

Winter’s Child – Part 13

James Joseph Preston III looked out of the big window in the living room and grinned at the falling snow. He loved the snow.

“Dad! Dad!” He pushed off the window ledge and raced through the house, looking for his father. He found him in the study, cleaning up the desk.

“Dad! Did you see?”

“Hey, buddy. What’s got you so excited?

“It’s snowing. The big flakes that are best for buildin’ snow men!”

“The winter’s just starting, Joey. You’ve got lots of time to build snow men.”

“But I wanna build one now! Can we got outside? You’re puttin’ your stuff away. That means you’re done workin’, right?

James came around his desk and squatted down so he was on Joey’s level. “I am done what I was doing,” he said. “But we can’t build a snowman today. You mom and I are going out, remember?”

“Do you have to?” Joey asked, a hint of whine in his voice.

“Yes, buddy, I have to. But maybe I can find some time tomorrow.”

“Promise?” Joey asked, having heard this before.

“I’ll do my best, buddy.” James rose to his feet and tousled Joey’s hair.

“And hey, you get to spend time with Christine today. You like Christine, don’t you? Maybe she’ll go out with you.”

“Chrissy doesn’t like the snow,” Joey informed him.

James barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “Well, maybe she’ll play video games with you. And we’ll be home by suppertime.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Joey sighed loudly, arms crossed with his chin resting on one chubby fist, his too-short legs dangling over the edge of the chair, swinging back and forth. If he really strained on the outward swing, the toes of his running shoes could just reach the edge of the coffee table leaving a very satisfying scuff mark on its shining surface.

Not that it mattered really. Chrissy wouldn’t care. Chrissy didn’t care about anything but her phone since she got herself a boyfriend. Joey didn’t know who he was, but he hated him all the same. His favorite babysitter wasn’t fun anymore.

His legs stopped swinging and he jumped off his chair.

“Chrissy,” he went over and tugged at her sleeve. “Chrissy! It stopped snowing. Can I go out ‘n play?”

Chrissy waved a hand in his general direction, but it was unclear whether she was giving him permission or shooing him away. Joey wasted no time on an interpretation but headed with five-year-old speed for the back door.

He struggled into his snowpants and pulled on his old boots that did up with velcro instead of the new ones with the laces. Not being able to manage the zipper himself, and not wanting to ask Chrissy for help in case she hadn’t been giving him permission to go outside, he left his jacket undone. Leaving his hat and scarf behind, but putting his mittens on, he went out the back door.

And hour later found him perched atop the snow covered picnic table, surveying his work. In the center of the back yard, amid the much-trampled snow, was a large snowball with two smaller ones beside it. Try as he might, he lacked the strength to stack them.

He sat much as he had in the house, dangling legs swinging back and forth, chin resting on a very damp, clenched mitt. He sighed and tried to think of something else to do outside. There seemed to be no point in going back inside.

Grandpa Preston would have known what to do. Joey missed him a lot. Grandpa never yakked on the phone all day. Grandpa was never too busy to play with him. And when it was too nasty to play outside, grandpa would sit with him by the fire and tell all kinds of neat stories, like the ones about winter’s children.

Joey sat up straight. That’s what he could do. He could go look for one of winter’s children. Maybe one of them would like to play with him. And then he could bring it back for his dad to see and then maybe grandpa could come back to live with them again.

He slid down off of the picnic table and shot a quick glance at the house before hurrying off, unmindful of the fact he was never, under any circumstances, to leave the back yard without permission. Forgetful of all of grandpa’s warnings of what could happen to little boys in the snow.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Rhupunt Verse Form

Welsh bards (poets) were held in very high esteem, and their poetry can be traced back to 100 B.C. Poetry was considered a profession, and to practice a person had to qualify, usually by participating in the Eisteddfod, or poetry competition that had very strict structural requirements.

Sometime in the 14th century, the Welsh poetic forms were codified into 24 official meters. These meters were then divided into three categories: the Englynion, the Cywydd, and the Awdl. The Rhupunt (pronounced hree’ pint) is the 13th Welsh meter, falling into the Awdl category. It has both a strict syllable count and rhyme scheme.

It can be presented in one of two ways: either as a stanzaic form, with 3 to 5 lines per verse, 4 syllables each; or as a single line for each verse, broken up into 3 to 5 four-syllable sections. The lines or sections of each verse are mono-rhymed, except for the final one which rhymes with the other final lines/sections throughout the poem. When written as a single line, the lines are paired as couplets. Easy peasy, right? I think a schematic is definitely called for!

Schematic for four line stanzas:

xxxa
xxxa
xxxa
xxxb

xxxc
xxxc
xxxc
xxxb

xxxd
xxxd
xxxd
xxxb

xxxe
xxxe
xxxe
xxxb

Schematic for single lines:

xxxaxxxaxxxaxxxb
xxxcxxxcxxxcxxxb

xxxdxxxdxxxdxxxb
xxxexxxexxxexxxb


Because I did two schematics, I thought it only fair that I do my example both ways. To be honest, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be to write, although being limited to four syllables per line was a little annoying – it seems kind of choppy with that restriction. But the best part is, I have another one of the coded Welsh forms under my belt! :-)


I start to write
with sun so bright
I wish for night
when it is chill

my mind, it strays
my thoughts ablaze
I look for ways
to hone my skill

I choose my font
the words look gaunt
I do not want
the ink to spill

deadline is met
fulfilling debt
I’ve one task yet –
put down my quill



I start to write, with sun so bright, I wish for night, when it is chill
my mind, it strays, my thoughts ablaze, I look for ways, to hone my skill

I choose my font, the words look gaunt, I do not want, the ink to spill
deadline is met, fulfilling debt, I’ve one task yet – put down my quill

What Should I Blog About?

A million years ago – some hairy bastard daubed a horse on the wall of his cave, he saw it, he drew it – well done! Flash forward: ‘Hello, welcome to my vlog. Today I bought a plum.
— Patrick Marber

Blogging is to writing what extreme sports are to athletics – more free-form, more accident-prone, less formal, more alive. It is, in many ways, writing out loud.
— Andrew Sullivan

Sometimes I think of blogging as finger exercises for a violinist; sometimes I think of it as mulching a garden. It is incredibly useful and helpful to my “real” writing.
— Kate Christensen

As I was sitting here trying to think of something to blog about, I wondered, why do people blog? All kinds of reasons apparently. But first, a history lesson.

The first blog was created by a college student named Justin Hall, who was looking for a way to publish some of his thoughts and writing online. This was back in 1994. In 1997, others thought this was a great idea and followed suit, creating their own online diaries or personal pages. In 1997, Jorn Barger came up with the name of weblogs to describe these sites, and in 1999 this term was shortened to blog.

So, that’s how it all started. But why have a blog?

One reason people blog is to share knowledge. You’ve painstakingly acquired all this information about something and don’t want it to go to waste, so you share it online in hopes others may find it useful.

Blogs can be used for self-promotion. You can share information that will showcase your skills for prospective employers to see. It legitimizes your expertise and promotes your credibility. You can expand your online presence and platform on a blog

Maybe you have a hobby that you enjoy and want to share that joy with others. You’re proud of what you’ve done and a blog provides a platform where you can post pictures and tips or instructions so that others can do it too.

A lot of people like to write, and they write mostly for themselves. This is pretty much why blogging started in the first place. These people don’t care so much about traffic numbers or the number of comments, they just love to write. A blog is a perfect place to share these writings.

Perhaps you are going through a difficult time like a break-up, parenting problems, medical issues . . . It can be difficult to talk about these things to another person, but blogging about them can be therapeutic. And it may even help someone else.

A blog can satisfy your creative side. Sometimes your mind is just filled with ideas. Blogging about them can be a great creative outlet. And it can create a record for the future.

Blogging helps you connect with like-minded people. You post your thoughts or feelings and it can bring in others who also think or feel that way. Ideas are shared and your thoughts can move forward.

Perhaps you have an issue that is near and dear to your heart. A blog is a good way to try and sway people to your way of thinking. Maybe you’ve seen an injustice and want to raise people’s awareness of it. A blog is a great way to do that.

Some people blog as a way to network. A blog can help spread ideas and make connections all over the world. It allows them to connect with like-minded people and share information about similar issues.

There are also those who are looking to make money with their blog. You can do this by monetizing your blog and promoting affiliate links. You’ll need to find an interest to blog about, figure out who your target audience is, and figure out which topics are profitable. And you’ll need to keep your blog content fresh, updating frequently. Then you need to build a reputation and promote yourself to grow.

As for me, for the last year or so I feel that if I hadn’t been blogging, I’d have done no writing at all. The blog keeps my creative juices going. Even the poetry – if I didn’t do a post each week I wouldn’t need to do a poem to go with it and I without the form to follow I probably wouldn’t be writing as many, if any, poems at all.

So why do I blog? To share ideas and keep me writing. How about you?

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WORDAGE REPORT

THE WEEK IN REVIEW
The word for last week . . . confusion.

It was a shortened week as far as babysitting went, the son-in-law’s schedule changed yet again and as well as only needing me for an hour on Monday, they didn’t need me at all until Thursday. So it was like having another free week, only this time I didn’t have to worry about picking the granddaughter up. But she and I had plans for Monday, so I asked to have her for the day. :-)

The weather was sunny and not too hot, but my ambition was no where to be found, so everything was a struggle. I hate when that mood strikes me, but there’s not much to be done about it. Just wait it out.

And as usual, I did find that I got more work done in my office than in the living room. I used the bright light streaming through the big office window as my excuse for not working so much in there. Granted, when the light hits at just the right angle it is a bit of a pain, but I can always wear a hat with a brim.

NEW WORDS:
2,468+806+356+892=4,522
UP 138 – words

I was a little inconsistent with the blog posts last week. A couple of them I was up early in the morning to finish them, and one I was up late finishing. This feels like a big step backwards for me. But they were all up on time (except I can tell you right now this one won’t be) so I guess that’s something.

I was up pretty late writing Friday’s post. It took me a while to figure out where it was going, but once I did it went pretty quickly, I just didn’t budget my time properly. The good news there is that I’ve set myself up nicely for this week’s installment.

However, being up so late Thursday night meant I was super tired Friday night, and I kind of dozed my way through my writing time. I really wanted to get as much of this post done Friday night as I could, because I was going to be away all day Saturday (family outing), so no time to do it then (like I usually do).

So here I am, Sunday morning, typing as fast as I can.

Goals For Next Week:
Try to get the blog posts done a little earlier; find some other writing to work on.

EDITING:
Last week – 23 pages
Total pages - 40

More progress could have been made if I’d budgeted my time better.

I can see where a lot of things need to be changed, and I really, really need to get my act together as far as the prophecy goes – so much of the action depends on it.

There was a great deal of conflict created within the Illezie on how the prophecy was to be dealt with. There were two possible outcomes (apparently) and the race was divided into those who just wanted nature to take its course, and those who wanted to steer events towards a more amicable future.

Jeez, where do I come up with these things? LOL

Anyway, the lesson learned here is, if you’re going to use a prophecy as one of the driving forces propelling your story forward, it’s a good idea to come up with the prophecy first, then start writing your story.

Goal For Next Week:
Work on the prophecy, continue editing.

POETRY:
This week’s form was not an easy one. In fact, this was one of the posts I got up early to finish doing. I got the information about the form done the night before, but after several aborted attempts at doing an example, I decided I’d be better off getting a fresh start in the morning, so I did.

The form, the Kerf, had an odd syllable count and it also rhymed. Either one was enough to throw me off. The example I came up with wasn’t spectacular, but I’m not unhappy with it.

No other poetry news for the week – no gatherings, no discussions, no other poems writing. Kind of a slow week for poetry, I guess.

Goal For Next Week:
Get a new form ready to share, update my big book ‘o poems.

CRAFTING:
I wasn’t supposed to get the granddaughter on Monday, but I asked for her so we could do our tie-dyeing. The liquid dye was much easier to use, but it was also really quick. We did one set of aprons in “hot” colours (yellow and red) and one set in “cool” colours (blue and pink).

I didn’t see her again until Thursday, and we decided the yellow and red aprons needed a little extra, so we took them outside, laid them on the grass, and squirted some green dye on them. They looked much better when we were done.

Wanting to be prepared, I asked her on Monday what craft she wanted to do on Thursday, and she wanted to work with the modeling clay again. So I picked up some better modeling clay in a variety of colours and . . . we never got around to it. *sigh* I guess I have something to do with her the next time she’s over.

Did not make any progress saving my stitch guide to an electronic device. It’s a long story, and it involves me having problems saving them as PDF files. There’s something a little off when I try to convert them from a Word file and I have to figure out what it is before I proceed.

You’d think after spending an entire day together at Lang last weekend we’d have had enough of each other, but no, my stitchery group (at least some of us) met up at our local park for a stitch in to celebrate World Embroidery Day (which was actually in July). It was a fun time, as it always is with these ladies. And we’ll be meeting again this week on Tuesday at the library.

I did not organize my jewelry supplies, nor have I figured out what’s next on my zentangle sampler.

Goal For Next Week:
Organize my jewelry stuff, figure out what’s next on the zentangle.

WHAT I’M READING:
In tree books, I started reading Trashlands by Alison Stine, which is set in what could possibly be our future if we don’t watch out.

On the Kindle, I finished Prowling Their Mate, and the next one in the series, Stalking Their Mate, by Tamsin Baker. I fell off the exercise wagon last week, and I just didn’t have time to read anything else.

Goal For Next Week:
Find a new book on the Kindle, keep up a steady reading pace.

THE WEEK AHEAD:

It’s the Labour Day weekend, which as far as I’m concerned marks the end of the summer. The kids will be back in school on Tuesday, so no more babysitting of the granddaughter. Hopefully she’ll still come over once in a while for swimming and crafts though.

But this means I have no more excuses for getting myself back on track. And starting this week I need to try and work ahead on Winter’s Child, and maybe my poetry posts as well. At the end of the month I have Writersfest in Kingston – four days and three nights of writing workshops.

After struggling to figure out where to start last week’s installment of Winter’s Child, the rest of the scene went fairly quickly. And the best part was that I’ve set things up for this week’s installment. I’m actually looking forward to writing it.

The other thing I’m enjoying is how much James has become a presence in this story. The original story didn’t really have a main character. Or maybe it had too many of them – Joseph, James, Joey, the creature … Even though this week’s installment probably won’t have him in it, it’s still very much James’s story.

I’ve made some progress on my editing, but I think I can do better. I’m going to up my editing goal to 50 pages for the week, and I need to at least start figuring out the prophecy. It’s been building up in my mind (like things you keep putting off tend to do) until I’m starting to feel like it’s going be like writing a whole new book. I need to nip that in the bud before it becomes overwhelming.

I really need to at least update my big book o’ poems, I’ve got folders from the last five years (at least) filled with poems that haven’t been printed for my big black binder. The problem with organizing this stuff is that if you don’t keep it up, it just becomes a big mess again. I’ve been putting this off because I feel like the best way to do it is to take a day and spend it updating. Which is probably why I’ve been putting it off so long. Maybe I need to break this down a little more logically. Take a day to print the poems, then spend an hour a day putting them where they need to be in the book while at the same time cross-checking with my master files.

I’d still like to go through and prioritize my crafting, keeping in mind that Christmas is coming. There are a couple of things I have in mind for Christmas presents, and I really should spend some time figuring them out. And this includes getting my jewelry supplies organized, because some of these gifts are jewelry related.

Feast or famine with me on reading, I tell you what. Last week I was between tree books, this time I’m between Kindle books. But it’s back on the exercise wagon for me this week, so I’ll be picking something new from amongst my vast Kindle library. I’m only one book away from fulfilling my Goodreads reading pledge for the year, let’s see what book puts me over the top.

I have the stitch-in at the library on Tuesday, and a check up with my surgeon on Friday, but aside from that, the week is my own. And, the weather is supposed to be sunny and super hot – good reason to stay inside, don’t you think?

Time to get organized.

Winter's Child - Part 12

Classes done for the day, James spread the notes he’d made from the journals over the desk in his office. He had a copy of his father’s book as well and was going through it highlighting relevant passages.

“How’s it going?” Ben asked from the office door.

“It’s going,” James said, without looking up.

“What are you doing?” He came all the way into the room, peering at the papers cluttering the normally pristine space.

James sighed. “I’ve finished going through all those family journals I told you about, and now I’m going to compare the notes I took to my father’s book.”

His friend was unnaturally quiet, and James glanced up at him. “What?”

Ben hesitated, then asked, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“The book is out there and your father is gone. What are you trying to prove?”

James was a little taken aback. “What are you talking about, I’m not trying to prove anything.”

“You sure about that?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” James said, shuffling the papers around on the desk. “I’m just curious about how much of Dad’s obsession came from the journals and how much of it was the fact he was just bat shit crazy.”

They’d been friends long enough that Ben knew when to back off, as he did now. “If you say so,” he said, moving back to the door. “Are you and Maggie coming to the faculty luncheon on Saturday?”

“Yes,” James said, grateful for the change of subject. “We already have Christine booked to babysit.”

Ben nodded.

“What about you, are you and Heather Bradshaw still a thing?”

“Stephanie Tamsin,” Ben said with a grin.

“Tamsin,” James repeated, brow furrowed. “Isn’t she the newest addition to the philosophy department?”

Ben’s grin widened.

James shook his head with a chuckle. “Is there anyone on the faculty you haven’t dated?”

“I’ll see you Saturday,” Ben said, giving a small wave as he departed.

James waited a couple of minutes, then got up and closed the door. Technically he was still on the clock, but maybe the closed door would be enough to deter any more visitors.

Seated once more behind his desk, he stared at his notes. Maybe Ben had a point. Maybe he was trying to prove something, if only to himself. He just wasn’t sure at this point if he was trying to prove his father was delusional, or if he was right.

With a sigh he opened his father’s book and picked up the first page of his notes. Rumors of the creatures had begun almost as soon as the settlers arrived. That first winter, in fact, corroborating Joseph’s account.

“They were there from the beginning,” he read. “The truth is, they were probably there from way before the beginning. But I don’t believe they were a threat then. I think they were just overly cautious in meeting us, maybe they perceived us as the threat. That’s why they stayed hidden.”

Okay, that much was verified by the journals. But the early sightings were so vague they could have been anything, really.

“Wait a minute. He said he didn’t believe they were a threat then,” James said, going through his notes. “So when exactly did they become a threat?”

He flipped through his father’s book until he came to that section.

“There were many deaths that could be traced back to Winter’s Children, but I believe they were accidental. I think they were shy by nature, and lured single folk away to try and communicate. Maybe they didn’t understand that we couldn’t take the cold the way they could.”

“Seriously Dad?” James sat back in his chair with a thump. “After all your big talk of how evil they were, you’re defending them?”

Leaning forward again, he continued reading.

”But all that changed when Joshua Preston shot several of them. There were no bodies, of course, Winter’s Children left nothing behind. But that showed them beyond a shadow of a doubt what kind of threat we could be.”

There, Joshua Preston. He was the one who made the first detailed description of the creatures. Then later he went crazy and killed his brother Ethan. According to Johnathan Preston, his surviving brother, Joshua had suddenly started shooting at shadows.

Shadows, James read. Not creatures, shadows. No one else saw anything. He was almost disappointed that Joseph had blown the whole incident out of proportion, then twisted it to fit his own version of the truth.

With a sigh, he gathered up his papers and shoved them in the bottom drawer of his desk, along with his father’s book. Time to let it go.

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Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11,