Words and Coffee

I swear it was just the end of July yesterday. Apparently I was wrong and no one’s been at the helm of the good ship Words & Coffee. All kinds of craziness has descended upon my life over the last four or five weeks, some good, some not so good.

My father had his second heart attack in three months. He’s doing alright, hanging in there, but I know it can’t be easy for him. I know how much it affects me so I can only imagine the thoughts running through his mind.

I volunteered to be Center Director here. We’ve been working like crazy on several fronts to get the school ready for today, the first day.

I started working full time here. The pace is far from languid, but fun and challenging.

We lost our sweet friend of 14 years, Greta, one of the most kindhearted dogs I’ve ever known.  We were with her, her death was fairly quick and there were no decisions to make. Still, it was heartbreaking.

We sure miss her fluff.

Through it all, I’ve been polishing my latest draft to get it ready for querying. I’ve been riding the trails here regularly, wrecking a little bit less and having tons of fun. Making time for all the people who are important to me has been a challenge, but I keep at it. Making space for down time has been about damn near impossible. And so it goes.

Posts here may be even more infrequent, but I’ll still be around. I always wondered how people managed to write and hold down a full-time job and juggle the responsibilities of parenting and all that goes with it.

Now I know.

Hope you didn’t come here to find out where that line is. I suspect it’s different for different writers.

I finished the fourth draft of my novel a few weeks ago and have jumped into what I hope are final edits (at least until someone tells me otherwise). I am no stranger to revision and trying to make my work the best it can be, so I’m always on the lookout for ways to make it better.

What I worry about is that I will delve deeper into things as I look for spelling, punctuation and clarity errors. It seems like things can always be improved and I worry about slipping into full revision mode.

I suppose when it comes down to it, there are worse things that can happen, but there’s that line between improving and ruining that’s hard to define. It’s like over-mixing your pancake batter and getting rubbery disks, that, while edible, are hardly memorable.

Here’s a pretty cool take on How to Stop Making Yourself Crazy with Self-Editing from Coppyblogger.

Once the brain makes enough mistakes — and corrects them — it now has a database of information that it can call upon at any time. Your brain has now reached its level of competency in that field, be it walking, talking or writing.

Makes sense.

And there you have it. Writers write and all that. Now, off to make more mistakes.

I like golf. There’s something about when you catch a shot clean, effortlessly and watch it sail straight and true. You can have countless marginal-to-awful shots (Trust me, I know this. Don’t ask how, just know that I do.), but all it takes is one good one to keep you coming back for more.

I find the same to be true for reading, though it pertains to a particularly well-turned phrase rather than a well-struck ball. But like the well-struck ball, the well-turned phrase seems effortless, beautiful and true.

I came across this one in M. John Harrison’s second book in the Viriconium series, The Pastel City (See right sidebar if you want to check it out):

Viriconium, sump of time and alchemical child, sacrificer of children and comforter of ghosts–who can but shiver and forgive in the damp theatrical airs of dawn?

Got any faves from stuff you’ve read or are currently reading?

Just checked the Scrap Heap folder in Scrivener (the software I’ve been using to write The Cloud Chamber)–it’s where I dump things I’ve cut from my story–and the word count is a titch over 40,000 words or roughly 160 pages worth of stuff, if you subscribe to the 250 words a page thing (I’m pretty sure a lot of the books I like to read come in at a higher wordcount per page, but oh well).

It makes me feel like this guy:

One of my favorite Greg Brown songs. One of my favorite songs, period. Last verse just about brings me to tears every time. This one’s for my baby.

The sea was rollin’ in slate gray
I looked at you and I looked away
I was cryin’
Because I was happy

I didn’t want you to see
I was afraid of such mystery
And afraid of losing
So afraid of losing

Later on on a balcony
We had a good talk and we felt free
I was comin’ to you from far away
Light was dim but you showed me the way
In your arms all I could say was
Hey baby hey baby hey baby hey

My heart was torn I’d made up my mind
I’d keep to myself and just be kind
And need nothing
Just need nothing

Love my folks my kids my friends
And make it on through to the end
No more suffering
Over loving

You get to me like old time religion did
In my heart when I was a kid
You’re sweet gospel music to my ears
You know how to ease all my fears
And from my heart to yours all I can say is
Hey baby hey baby hey baby hey

And as we go on through the deal I
I know that we won’t always feel
Real wonderful
Life ain’t like that

But I want to stay right by your side
Check out the view enjoy the ride
Together
With all our loved ones

I want to plant a little garden with you now
Take care of a piece of the earth somehow
And tend it when we’re old and gray and
Try to straighten up and say, well,
I’m so glad to see you today
Hey baby hey baby hey baby hey

Oh yeah, coming up on the end of draft #4 of The Cloud Chamber. Can’t say much other than it’s better than #3.

Rock on.