Category: writing

Categories
photography writing

Writer thwarted, once again, by feline

As I am puttering around this morning–feeding animals, emptying the dishwasher, turning the tomato seedlings–I find I have the opening scene to my story, THE NINTH DRAGON, running around in my head… images, full sentences and all. So I hustle into the office to jot down these thoughts only to discover that I am out of scrap paper. Serendipitously (hopefully!) I have used an entire draft print of my novel, AFTER THE VIRUS, to brainstorm a series of short stories set in that universe.

Anyway, I remember I have some coloured paper upstairs that is who knows how old (5 years maybe) so I grab a 1 inch stack, title and date the top page and settle in to write out the first scene (or at least the parts I have running in my head).

I swear I only turned away for a second, but that is all it took to lose the paper to Leo, pen and all.

I seriously hope this isn’t a commentary on the quality of the writing–the paper makes a better bed than book? Or perhaps I really should just stop reading into every little thing the cats do. They like to sleep on things–end of (potentially dull) story.

Insert even cuter picture here:

Now get back to work! Me, not you. You feel free to do what pleases you.

Categories
research self-publishing writing

Researching self-publishing

A Drive-by, link-filled, FYI post:

This is some of my research into self-publishing so far:

On the Web

Books

Read:

Currently Reading:

In my Queue:

Waiting for library copies:

Still sourcing:

  • Perfect Pages – want to read Aiming (link above) before I purchase this.

People

  • Amanda Hocking – I’ve been following Amanda’s self-publishing success story with much interest and took the time to read her young adult trilogy, Trylle. The books were interesting enough to hold my attention long enough to read all three, but I wouldn’t necessarily recommend them unless you are a true fan of the genre (young adult paranormal).
  • Michelle Demers – Michelle, a local Vancouver author, just self-published her book Baby Jane. And I hope to read the book very soon and then pick her brain over lunch next week!

Etc.

I have also looked into the possibility of hiring someone to proofread and do the layout, but feel confident enough to tackle the cover design myself.

I want to look professional, but this is, as all independents are (unless you are George Lucas), a shoestring budget sort of thing. It’s a balance of time and $$. Could I write another novel in the time it might take me to learn how to do all this myself? Perhaps (though hopefully this isn’t going to take THAT long!!). On the other hand, I think it is good to know the hoops even if you don’t plan to jump through them all by yourself.

Anything I’ve missed, so far, that you would consider recommended reading?

Categories
writing

A reaction to POKE THE BOX by Seth Godin

So I just read POKE THE BOX by Seth Godin, which has been released through his new partnership with Amazon, The Domino Project.

Now, I must admit, before I launch into my rather verbose reaction to this book, I didn’t buy PTB when it was first published–even at it’s very accessible introductory price (.99). Why? Because I am not a big fan of motivational or self-help books. I generally find such books a slog to get through, and it always seems that I already know (even if I don’t practice every day) their fundamental principals. However, when I received an email yesterday via The Domino Project about Steven Pressfield’s new book, DO THE WORK, I was intrigued enough to click through and read more. First of all, this book has a corporate sponsor (GE), which is completely brilliant. And second Mr. Pressfield wrote THE WAR OF ART, which occupies a spot among all my “creative” and writing books, possibly right next to Syd Field. The thing is, this book was a gift, a birthday gift from a beloved cousin, who has since chosen to leave his mortal coil, and, I must further admit, I have never read it. So I signed up to get a free copy of DTW and vowed to read AofW beforehand.

Then I started to feel a little guilty that I hadn’t supported The Domino Project further when I completely believe in its principals–so I downloaded POKE THE BOX.

And then I read it.

As I was reading, I kept coming across underlined passages. This was my first time reading with the Kindle App and I had not turned off the “others have highlighted this” option. Then, out of the blue, I too felt like noting down a section. So out came a blue post it note (hence the picture with this post), because I thought it might be a good exercise if I took the time to answer this question Seth had posed–the one that had captured my attention enough that I actually scrawled it across a sticky note.

Then I made more notes and more notes.

Next thing I knew, I was thinking about the book–thinking about my reaction. Thinking about how it felt like it was time to wake up, it was time to step forward; it was time to stop listening to that voice–the one inside my head that had been undermining me for such a long time. And it was time to stop listening to the voices around me, at least the echoes of voices around me, that I had been listening to, that I had been giving so much power.

I realized I have been hiding. I have been waiting. And that it was time to move.

So, I decided to share my reaction to POKE THE BOX.

Then I decided to self-publish some of my writing, because I am tired of waiting to be handed the opportunity to have people read my work–just read it, and hopefully react. I’ve got stories to tell. I’ve written a lot of them down. I’ve even filmed some of them, but I’ve always waited–for film festivals, for broadcasters, for agents and now for publishers.

And you know what? I hate line-ups. Almost nothing is worth the time lining up takes–especially when you can order it online. So let’s do that.
__________________________________

Upcoming POKE THE BOX posts (not necessarily in this order, as the 1st topic, aka sticky note, is the most daunting):

  • If you had a chance to do a TED talk, what would it be about?
  • You haven’t poked the box if the box doesn’t realize it’s been poked.
  • The challenge is to focus on the work, not on the fear that comes from doing the work.
  • Hollerado
  • Part of initiating is being willing to discover that what you end up with is different from what you set out to accomplish.
  • If you could build anything (and you can) what would you build?
  • If you can’t fail, it doesn’t count. &  When was the last time you set out to be promiscuous in your failure?
  • Don’t speak up. If you see something, don’t say anything. & Speaking up is not safe. People might get offended.
  • “There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth. Not going all the way, and not starting.” – Siddhartha Gautama via POKE THE BOX
Categories
writing

writing a (crazy, bloody, funny)(insert adjective) love story

I have a crazy, bloody, dark & funny love story resting underneath my fingertips.

I’ve been working on unleashing it for a couple of years now. Yes, a couple of years.

I know that this story starts with a funeral, ends with a wedding and people die in-between – hopefully only the bad or irredeemable guys, though I make no promises.

The story is about all the crazy things that happen to us, the crazy things you think you can’t tell anyone or… you know… they’ll think you are seriously insane or on your way there at least. Except true love doesn’t acknowledge deal breakers and the person who is your perfect pair is just as fucked up as you, only differently – so, you know, you aren’t fighting over the same energy. Plus with each other you can leave all that shit behind anyway.

There will be lots of rain, guns and a musical number in this screenplay, probably under threat of death. There are childhood friends and drug dealers; in fact they might be one and the same. There will be a stalker and an ex-wife, who may just as well fall in lust themselves. Someone might be pregnant, someone might be a spy – actually that might be the opening to the plot – he runs an import/export business – ya, right. She’s a colour blind interior decorator who has a thing for dance poles and 80s music, she also can shoot a gun, but why is nobody’s business. Cue sweet songs & honey – it’s going to be a wild ride.

And I am going to do it all in 90 minutes – 100 tops.

Listening to: Real, Real Gone by Van Morrison

Channeling: The Coen Brothers & Penny Marshall

Categories
vancouver writing

March 14, 2011 – Thought of the day…

LOCATION: home office, Vancouver, BC, Canada

WEATHER: Rain – currently pouring – though seconds ago the sun attempted a break through.

TODAY’S TO DO LIST: flesh out new idea for AFTER THE VIRUS prequel **Note: can it be called a prequel if the storylines eventually overlap? Will need to check into that, eventually, if the story makes it beyond brainstorming.

PROGRESS: Null – have been answering phone calls and emails instead.

MUSIC: Fidelity (youtube video) by Regina Spektor – will mostly likely be on repeat while I brainstorm, which was very helpful last writing session.

EATING: Raisin & Hazelnut Milk Chocolate Bar (Green & Black’s Organic to be specific). Gone now, was only ½ a bar.

READING: nothing currently, but have the ASTONISHING X-MEN vol. 6, FELL & IGNITION CITY on my desk. The fact that Astonishing is also written by Ellis is coincidental, though he, as a writer, was recommended to me the other day – hence the other two titles.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  I’m wondering about the house across the street, which, today, seems to be under going a (minor) renovation. A few months ago, the homeowner carried drywall and some lumber into the house, and then, a couple of days later the house, which looks to be of fairly new construction, was listed for sale. It sold. The owners moved out. No one moved in. The house was re-listed. It sold, again. New owners moved in. The house is now empty (again) (I seemed to have missed the moving in/out part). More construction is now taking place, more woodcutting, tradesman vehicles, and perhaps an appliance of some sort was just delivered. I am waiting to see if the sale sign returns after today.

I am really, really hoping the house is haunted or perhaps it’s an alternate universe anchor point, but it is probably just water/leak/mold issues.

Too bad.

Also, not as interesting, so it really shouldn’t be holding so much of my attention today.

Oh, look the sun is making another attempt…

Categories
writing

That line you feed yourself…

…it’s just bullshit, Meghan.

“The writing isn’t flowing, because I haven’t found my voice within the story,” I say to myself whenever I am restless and distracted, whenever I want to justify not writing.

And it is bullshit. The worse kind of bullshit – my own – lying to myself, because:

I AM MY VOICE.

Making note of that here, publicly – officially putting myself on record.

I AM MY VOICE.

That is all and everything. Back to writing. Oh, yes, feel free to call me on it – much appreciated.

Categories
writing

January is for writing – a (bloody?) comedy about love.

I’ve been working on my comedy about love this afternoon, no it’s not a romantic comedy – because I said so.

I’ve been playing around with a couple of opening scenes (set at a wake) including this one (set in the bathroom of a community centre).

Trixie dramatically flings open her stall door and then slumps against it. She shakes the pregnancy test (now out of box) in her hand.

TRIXIE
(confessing)
He’s a partner.

MINX
Ever heard of a condom, stupid?

AMANDA
Did you flush?

TRIXIE
It broke.

AMANDA
The toilet?

TRIXIE
The condom.

MINX
They have pills for that.

TRIXIE
Took one. This was the earliest test I could find.

MINX
You could’ve just dropped by the hospital.

TRIXIE
I knew you’d be on the way here –

AMANDA
Listen, I know this is all terribly important, but I am having a real issue with the unflushed toilet.
(dramatically whispering)
It’s right behind you.

Trixie sighs and then leans over to flush the toilet.

This script is going to totally rock – because I said so.

ETA: Belatedly thought I should provide visual proof of writing… hence the desk shot. I also have final draft, scrivener (which I am trying out) and i-tunes running on the computer. I especially like the inclusion of the envelope… did I run out of scrap paper? why did I think grabbing an envelope was the best choice at the moment of inspiration? Ah, well. I just go with it – it usually works out for me that way.

Categories
research writing

Researching Poetry and Channeling 16-year olds

I am currently swathed in cashmere [vintage, it tried to snow in Vancouver last night – crazy!!], sipping chocolate mint tea [from my own garden] and researching “dark” poetry for a young adult novel I am working on called ‘TIL DEATH [working title].

I wrote a short film with the same premise last summer when my [formerly a] English teacher sister, Heather, was briefly living with me and I put her to the task of combing through hundreds of years of poetry and selecting some that would suit the two characters I was creating, Luci and Colby. Heather selected passages from the writing of Tennyson [In Memoriam, of course], Browning, Barrett Browning, Arthur Hugh Clough [who I had never heard of] and Christina Rossetti. I added a Shakespearean sonnet [116], Bronte, Dickinson, Arnold and more Tennyson to that list.

I decided, about a month ago, to convert the short film in to what I was hoping would be a novel length story, but only really got started working on it late last week. Problem was, I couldn’t find this great [handwritten] list my sister had put together for me, and I tell you I really wasn’t looking forward to rereading In Memoriam [etc, etc].

However, I am happy to report I just found it filed under General Film in my filing cabinet, and am currently transcribing it into my writing program under the research tab so the pieces of paper don’t go missing on me again [Parker, the golden Persian, has a habit of dragging handwritten notes all around the house when I “forget” him in the office].

Favourite Heather selection:

I sometime hold it half a sin

To put in words the grief I feel;

For words, like Nature, half reveal

And half conceal the Soul within.

–       In Memoriam (5. 1 – 4), Tennyson

My favourite selection:

Unable are the Loved to die

For Love is Immortality,

–       Emily Dickinson

Poetry will be peppered through out the novel, just a verse or line here or there, as it is how to the two lead characters attempt to communicate. Yeah, that is sure to end well [insert sarcastic tone].

Categories
writing

‘Til Death – Chapter One (1st Draft)

Spending the day combing through my works in progress, and, not only can’t I decide if this should be the short story that I intended to write or if it has the legs to be expanded into a young adult novel, but also, I can’t decide if this should be my next project either.  I also have a fun piece, currently titled THE WOLF & THE READER, which I have already written a chunk of as well.  Choices, choices, choices.

———————

THE CARD SHOP—THURSDAY EVENING, 8pm

When she turned 12 Lucy had changed her name to Luci. Then at 14 she’d added the heart over the letter “i”, but now, at 16, she was starting to worry that the name itself was a little… frivolous. Not that she condemned anyone else who liked being frivolous and she certainly thought of herself as being fun: she totally cheered for school team(s), painted her toes in bright pinks, and, since she’d started wearing them 4 years ago, she always made sure her bra matched her underwear. Still she was about to be in her last year of high school, after she got through this spring and summer, but still soon, and maybe Luci with a heart over the “I” just wasn’t her anymore. Unfortunately when she’d asked her Mom what Luci was short for, or who’d she’d been named after her, Mom hadn’t had any interesting answers–except that she could change her name after she turned 18 and at her own expense.

Thus foiled she was forced to sign her most recent love note Luci with a little heart over the “i”, even though it conflicted with the serious tenor of the message: How do I love thee? Let me count the –

Her pink sparkle pencil slid with a smooth sort of grip across the register tape. She always liked writing in pencil, not that she ever had to erase anything, but because she liked the sound of it. The register tape, pilfered from the register of the card shop, was streaked in red, though sometimes the warning lines were streaks of green or blue. The coloured streaks let the cashier know when the tape had to be changed, and since the end bits of rolls were thrown out, Luci had no issue with using the neat little rolls to pass love notes: specifically to her boyfriend Colby. When starting one of these notes, as she just had, she always made sure to draw the O in Colby’s name as a heart as well–she was really big on symmetry.

Luci had gotten the job at the card shop after the Christmas holidays, she would have preferred working at The Body Shop or Lush, but they weren’t looking for anyone when she’d been looking for a bit of cash. Having an extra excuse to be out of the house on Thursdays (5-9pm) and Sundays (1-5pm) was a bonus. Sundays, according to her stepfather, were supposed to be family days, and it did use to be that often she was the one who rubbed garlic powder all over the roast and made the gravy, but now she was a vegetarian. Well, she’d eat chicken if it was free-range and fish if it was certified Ocean Wise, but other than that, no meat. Despite his insistence, this no meat policy was not just to piss her step-dad off, but because she’s recently seen a bunch of documentaries that had really grossed her and her friends out.

Anyway, the card shop carried little cool gift things and great pens and pencils. Her latest sparkly pink pencil had a fluffy hair poof attached to the end where the eraser usually was. She’d done her nails, in study period, in sparkly pink to match this pretty pen, but she put on her wristwatch wrist warmers to add an ironic touch to her ensemble. She liked that none of the sewn-on watches (there were three on each knitted wrist warmer) displayed the same time.

Currently, the shop was dead, as it usually was on Thursday nights. She’d had her break, a fruit & nut bar and root beer (her latest fav), early before the owner went home for the evening at 6pm. She didn’t mind closing by herself, in fact, she liked the responsibility and the bits of organization that came with the task.

As she paused to assess the further wording of the love note, she was making up with her own love list to personalize the famous poem, a woman wearing Lululemon as a style, not just workout clothing, rushed into the store. Laden with multiple packages (at quick glance Luci estimated the woman was carrying close to $880 in paper bags) and carrying a large bouquet of white lilies, the woman stopped mid-store and looked about frantically.

“I need, I must have a card for a funeral or not a funeral, a pre-funeral. A card for the actual event of a death,” the woman all but pleaded.

Now the store was pretty simply laid out and the woman hadn’t even taken a moment to look around, but Luci dutifully glanced up from her note and gestured to a wall cards about halfway back the west wall.

“Bereavement cars. Past the thank yous, but before the birthdays,” she informed the woman, who quickly followed her instructions.

Luci noted, as she returned to adding more hearts to her note, that the woman, Vanessa, was actually a vague friend of her mother’s, probably from Pilates class.

Vanessa spared a couple of seconds to peer at the indicated section, but hesitated to even pick up one. Luci was always amazed how people made a big deal out of such simple things, and had decided it was because everyone wanted to be more important that they actually were and therefore infused their card selection with that performance pressure. Though, she waited until Vanessa actually spoke, before offering to help.

“But, but which one is the most popular one?”

Luci abandoned her note with a bit of a sigh, but was actually always happy to help pick out cards.

Crossing around the counter, she reached past Vanessa’s elbow and picked out a light blue card from the wall. Vanessa opened and read the proffered card.

“Unable are the loved to die, for love is mortality.”

“Emily Dickinson,” Luci enlightened with a satisfied sigh.

Vanessa thought about this sentiment for as long as she really could stand too–about 7 seconds–and then started distractedly fanning herself with the card.

“I just don’t know… what do you say to a mother whose son has just committed suicide? So sorry you weren’t paying attention? Oh, that’s awful of me… never mind,” Vanessa pressed the card back into Luci’s hands and exited the store in a rush very similar to how she entered.

Luci carefully returned the card to the wall and straightened a few others before she returned to the desk and her note.

Her cellular phone, neatly, but unobtrusively, tucked beside the cash register, vibrated. Luci ignored it, though she stiffened her shoulders the entire time it buzzed. She carefully re-rolled the note, now as long as her arm, back into it’s tight roll and tucked it beside her phone. As she did so she glanced down at the phone screen and noted that she had now missed 10 calls and had 20 emails waiting to be read.

Thing is, she knew exactly why everyone want to check in with her all of a sudden, but she wasn’t much interested is actually talking to anyone.

‘Course she wasn’t going to get away with that for very long.

Categories
writing

LOVE LIES BLEEDING @ THE COLD READING SERIES

Just found out that the first act of my feature script LOVE LIES BLEEDING will be read at the Cold Reading Series this Thursday, July 29th.

Logline: Pamela just wants to reunite in the afterlife with her dead fiancé, Grady.  Problem is, Grady was a secret agent, and his coded emails have infuriated both his employers and his enemies.  They need Pamela alive.  So, instead of her planned suicide, she is kidnapped by Black Op’s Agents, tortured by Mobster Warlords, hunted by a Psychotic Killer, chased by Zombies …and killed; all necessary evils in order to ultimately walk into the sunset with her true love.

LLB is one of my bloody comedies, so the read should be fun and funny (I hope).

Please join us if you happen to be in Vancouver!  If you want to read you need to get there by 7:30pm for casting otherwise just show up for 8pm.  Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Address: 1407 Laburum Street (between Cornwall and Creelman).

Hope to see you there.