Peggy Jaeger's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing-life"
This didn’t win an award, but..
I sent this piece into a contest recently. It didn’t win. ANYTHING!!! Not win, place or show. But that’s okay. I figured I’d put it here and win…your hearts, instead!
TITLE: When life gives you lemons…don’t suck! ( this wasn’t REALLY the title. I just came up with it, like, 5 minutes ago!)
Two years ago I was downsized from my health care job and simultaneously going through the worst menopause Mother Nature had ever bestowed upon a female of the species. I was the human definition of a hot mess with too much time on my hands. My only child was grown and on her own; my husband was still employed full time; perpetual and soul-sucking hot flashes kept me up nights and my brain-like a rabid energizer bunny- never shut down. There’s only so much housekeeping, grocery shopping and cooking a person can do in their free time. My floors sparkled, the checkout people at the market knew me by my first name, my cabinets were organized as if Martha Stewart herself had arranged them, and my husband gained five pounds because of all the new recipes I was trying each week. I’d always liked to read, but starting and finishing a book in a day was a little much, even for me. I needed something to motivate me to get out of bed and showered every morning and to fill those daylight hours productively.
One March midnight, with a snowstorm blustering through the trees outside my New England home, I was sitting in the living room with the air-conditioner turned to high and blowing directly at my hormonally-charged, red, naked and perspiration-dripping body, when I started writing down a story that’d been swimming around in my brain for a while. I’d always wanted to write the great American romance novel but never had the time due to school/work/family/child/life responsibilities. I’d had a tiny bit of success over the years writing freelance non-fiction pieces about everything from Nursing topics (since I was a Master Degreed Registered Nurse), to motherhood and child-rearing concerns, but writing a romance novel had always been my dream since I’d read my very first Nora Roberts book. Now that I’d been shaved down to three days of clinic work per week, I figured I had the time to invest in my dream and might as well use it to my benefit.
Those two days off per week, plus the weekends, were certainly spent well in this endeavor. I treated writing as if I were still working, meaning I devoted the hours I should have been at a paying job to getting the story down on paper, or – in my case – on the laptop. Those hours I spent writing I considered sacred. I could have goofed off; gone shopping; had my nails done: watched a Real Housewives of any city marathon. But I didn’t. I simply wrote my heart out. Three months later I had a 350-page romance novel completed. The day I typed The End is a moment in time I will never forget. The fact it occurred at 2:25 in the morning and I was sweating like a farm animal might have something to do with that.
Now what? I had 350 pages of a story I was in love with but I wasn’t sure what I’d written was any good, had any merit, or even if the story was coherent. Were my characters likable? Believable? Was the story arc interesting or as dull as my brain before morning caffeine? Since none of my friends were romance readers I knew they couldn’t be depended upon to give me valuable feedback because – as my friends – they’d all be loyal and tell me it was wonderful even if it stank. So I decided to do something I’d never done before: I entered a contest. I knew romance-writing contests offered critiques on the work submitted and that’s what I was looking for. I wanted someone connected with the industry to tell me I was either on the right track, or to get the he** off the train because I had no talent and wasn’t leaving the station anytime soon. So I submitted the first three chapters as instructed.
I’d never entered a contest for anything before. I wasn’t that kid who ripped off the back of a comic book and entered a giveaway promotion for a soon-to-be-released-must-have-toy. I didn’t clip the Sunday ad promos begging the reader to enter for a chance to win free samples. Heck, I didn’t even buy lotto tickets when the prize was half a gazillion dollars. Entering a contest was something I’d never considered because I just didn’t – and still don’t – believe in luck. To me, the real definition of luck is when opportunity meets preparation, so blindly entering a contest to win a prize wasn’t on my radar. Entering this writing contest though, where I’d actually prepared something for someone to judge, was a totally different incentive for me.
I knew – knew – I didn’t have a chance at any kind of prize; this was a given. I wasn’t entering to win, though. I was totally invested in the notion my writing would be judged and when I’d get a critique and score back, I’d know if the direction I was moving in was worthwhile. I told myself if the work truly was horrible, at least the critique would show me the areas I needed to address and concentrate on. The added benefit of submitting the chapters, I soon realized, was the people judging me didn’t know me from Adam – or in my case – Eve. Criticism, I’ve found, is much easier to take when you don’t know the person who is critiquing your work, so in my heart I knew my ego wouldn’t be too devastated when the pages came back to me filled with comments about areas for improvement.
But an amazing thing happened: I received an email informing me I’d won my category. And not only that, the judge who’d read it was the publisher of The Wild Rose Press. She contacted me and told me she’d enjoyed what I’d written and asked if I’d submit the entire manuscript for review to one of their in-house editors. Would I? Damn straight I would, Skippy!
So I did. Again, I had no preconceived notions of anything stupendous happening. Just the fact she’d asked to see more than the three chapters she’d read was encouraging. I assumed the editor I’d submitted to would send it back to me, littered with margin suggestions and corrections and with a simple note saying, “Thanks for letting me read this, but it’s not for us,” and that would be that.
But it wasn’t. She liked it too, so the Wild Rose Press contracted to publish it. And my next two books in the series as well, with options for books four and five. And a novella due out in Spring 2016.
At fifty-four years old I had a dream – a dream I’d never shared with anyone – come true. A true middle-aged Cinderella moment. All because I decided to do something I’d never even considered doing before.
To say my life changed forever in the instant I won that contest category would be an understatement. To have the book of my heart actually published, to have a publisher truly like what I’d written and like it enough to take a chance on an unknown, menopausal, sleep-deprived empty nester fifty-four year old bottled blonde with crow’s feet and a muffin top, was not only a dream come true, but a modern day miracle.
When my first book was published in March 2015 I officially “retired” from my downsized paying job. Nowadays I get to go to work in my pajamas every morning – and sometimes in nothing at all, depending on the state of my hot flashes – and I never have to leave my house. I write in an attic loft overlooking my quiet and beautiful wooded property.
In a strange, karmic way, the enforced and unanticipated downsizing was the spark necessary to propel me to change my life and move it in the direction I’d always wanted it to go, but never had the courage to take it. I will never regret entering that writing contest because it opened doors I don’t know would have ever opened for me otherwise. If I hadn’t made the decision to take a chance and submit my story, I think my life would still be the same, unfulfilled, overworked, sweaty, hormonal one it had turned into.
I’m still sweating and hormonal, but now I’m also a Published Author.
And life is so much better – hot flashes and all.
TITLE: When life gives you lemons…don’t suck! ( this wasn’t REALLY the title. I just came up with it, like, 5 minutes ago!)
Two years ago I was downsized from my health care job and simultaneously going through the worst menopause Mother Nature had ever bestowed upon a female of the species. I was the human definition of a hot mess with too much time on my hands. My only child was grown and on her own; my husband was still employed full time; perpetual and soul-sucking hot flashes kept me up nights and my brain-like a rabid energizer bunny- never shut down. There’s only so much housekeeping, grocery shopping and cooking a person can do in their free time. My floors sparkled, the checkout people at the market knew me by my first name, my cabinets were organized as if Martha Stewart herself had arranged them, and my husband gained five pounds because of all the new recipes I was trying each week. I’d always liked to read, but starting and finishing a book in a day was a little much, even for me. I needed something to motivate me to get out of bed and showered every morning and to fill those daylight hours productively.
One March midnight, with a snowstorm blustering through the trees outside my New England home, I was sitting in the living room with the air-conditioner turned to high and blowing directly at my hormonally-charged, red, naked and perspiration-dripping body, when I started writing down a story that’d been swimming around in my brain for a while. I’d always wanted to write the great American romance novel but never had the time due to school/work/family/child/life responsibilities. I’d had a tiny bit of success over the years writing freelance non-fiction pieces about everything from Nursing topics (since I was a Master Degreed Registered Nurse), to motherhood and child-rearing concerns, but writing a romance novel had always been my dream since I’d read my very first Nora Roberts book. Now that I’d been shaved down to three days of clinic work per week, I figured I had the time to invest in my dream and might as well use it to my benefit.
Those two days off per week, plus the weekends, were certainly spent well in this endeavor. I treated writing as if I were still working, meaning I devoted the hours I should have been at a paying job to getting the story down on paper, or – in my case – on the laptop. Those hours I spent writing I considered sacred. I could have goofed off; gone shopping; had my nails done: watched a Real Housewives of any city marathon. But I didn’t. I simply wrote my heart out. Three months later I had a 350-page romance novel completed. The day I typed The End is a moment in time I will never forget. The fact it occurred at 2:25 in the morning and I was sweating like a farm animal might have something to do with that.
Now what? I had 350 pages of a story I was in love with but I wasn’t sure what I’d written was any good, had any merit, or even if the story was coherent. Were my characters likable? Believable? Was the story arc interesting or as dull as my brain before morning caffeine? Since none of my friends were romance readers I knew they couldn’t be depended upon to give me valuable feedback because – as my friends – they’d all be loyal and tell me it was wonderful even if it stank. So I decided to do something I’d never done before: I entered a contest. I knew romance-writing contests offered critiques on the work submitted and that’s what I was looking for. I wanted someone connected with the industry to tell me I was either on the right track, or to get the he** off the train because I had no talent and wasn’t leaving the station anytime soon. So I submitted the first three chapters as instructed.
I’d never entered a contest for anything before. I wasn’t that kid who ripped off the back of a comic book and entered a giveaway promotion for a soon-to-be-released-must-have-toy. I didn’t clip the Sunday ad promos begging the reader to enter for a chance to win free samples. Heck, I didn’t even buy lotto tickets when the prize was half a gazillion dollars. Entering a contest was something I’d never considered because I just didn’t – and still don’t – believe in luck. To me, the real definition of luck is when opportunity meets preparation, so blindly entering a contest to win a prize wasn’t on my radar. Entering this writing contest though, where I’d actually prepared something for someone to judge, was a totally different incentive for me.
I knew – knew – I didn’t have a chance at any kind of prize; this was a given. I wasn’t entering to win, though. I was totally invested in the notion my writing would be judged and when I’d get a critique and score back, I’d know if the direction I was moving in was worthwhile. I told myself if the work truly was horrible, at least the critique would show me the areas I needed to address and concentrate on. The added benefit of submitting the chapters, I soon realized, was the people judging me didn’t know me from Adam – or in my case – Eve. Criticism, I’ve found, is much easier to take when you don’t know the person who is critiquing your work, so in my heart I knew my ego wouldn’t be too devastated when the pages came back to me filled with comments about areas for improvement.
But an amazing thing happened: I received an email informing me I’d won my category. And not only that, the judge who’d read it was the publisher of The Wild Rose Press. She contacted me and told me she’d enjoyed what I’d written and asked if I’d submit the entire manuscript for review to one of their in-house editors. Would I? Damn straight I would, Skippy!
So I did. Again, I had no preconceived notions of anything stupendous happening. Just the fact she’d asked to see more than the three chapters she’d read was encouraging. I assumed the editor I’d submitted to would send it back to me, littered with margin suggestions and corrections and with a simple note saying, “Thanks for letting me read this, but it’s not for us,” and that would be that.
But it wasn’t. She liked it too, so the Wild Rose Press contracted to publish it. And my next two books in the series as well, with options for books four and five. And a novella due out in Spring 2016.
At fifty-four years old I had a dream – a dream I’d never shared with anyone – come true. A true middle-aged Cinderella moment. All because I decided to do something I’d never even considered doing before.
To say my life changed forever in the instant I won that contest category would be an understatement. To have the book of my heart actually published, to have a publisher truly like what I’d written and like it enough to take a chance on an unknown, menopausal, sleep-deprived empty nester fifty-four year old bottled blonde with crow’s feet and a muffin top, was not only a dream come true, but a modern day miracle.
When my first book was published in March 2015 I officially “retired” from my downsized paying job. Nowadays I get to go to work in my pajamas every morning – and sometimes in nothing at all, depending on the state of my hot flashes – and I never have to leave my house. I write in an attic loft overlooking my quiet and beautiful wooded property.
In a strange, karmic way, the enforced and unanticipated downsizing was the spark necessary to propel me to change my life and move it in the direction I’d always wanted it to go, but never had the courage to take it. I will never regret entering that writing contest because it opened doors I don’t know would have ever opened for me otherwise. If I hadn’t made the decision to take a chance and submit my story, I think my life would still be the same, unfulfilled, overworked, sweaty, hormonal one it had turned into.
I’m still sweating and hormonal, but now I’m also a Published Author.
And life is so much better – hot flashes and all.
Goal vs. Dream
So…I’m giving this motivational speech next month at a woman’s weekend retreat and I’ve starting putting my thoughts together on what I want to say, the points I want to highlight, and the ideas I want to leave the women with. And by starting to put together I really mean I’m starting to panic about what to say!! I’m going to use this blog piece as a way of organizing my thoughts, so please bear with me!
I’ve always asserted that there is a distinct difference between having a dream for yourself and having a goal. To prove I’m educated in the difference between the two, here are the definitions:
A goal is: an aim or desired result
A dream is: a cherished aspiration, ambition, or ideal
Now, just looking at the two you might think they really are the same thing. But I don’t think they are and here’s why.
I always had a little dream to write romantic fiction and have it published. My dream was to be able to support myself as a writer and have the people who read my stuff like it, be loyal, and want more of it. That was it. Just a dream. A little fantasy that played out in my mind time after time. I’d imagine myself going to book signings and have the waiting line for my table be out the door and around the block! I’d make every bestseller list out there, and talk shows would be clamoring to schedule me whenever I had a new book released. Amazon would list me as a preferred author and my Goodreads page would be off the chart with followers.
Okay, so it was a BIG dream and not really a little one.
What turned my dream into a reality was when I set a goal for myself centering on that dream to write and publish. I put an action plan behind my fantasy. I set a time frame for what I wanted to happen, the means to make sure it did, and took steps to promote and push it along to fruition.
See the difference? My dream was ephemeral, just a thought, an idea, a wish. My goal put action behind the fantasy to make it come true. To break it down even further ( for you literary and English majors!) my dream was a noun and my goal was the verb.
Make sense?
Now, of course, I’m going to expound on that a lot more when I give my talk. I do have to fill an entire hour and not just a three minute ready-to-read-piece like this one! But I think my idea is solid. How I got to live out my fantasy, my dream, how I made it happen, will comprise the majority of the speech. But for now, I have a starting point, so thank’s for listening and ANY WORDS OF WISDOM would not only be appreciated, they would be cherished…so feel free.
Here’s the info, btw, if you want to attend the women’s weekend retreat and see me make a fool of myse–, er…hear me speak: Camp Takodah
and…if you can’t make it to the retreat, here’s where you can find me: Tweet Me// Read Me// Visit Me// Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
***** for images and links, go to : https://peggyjaeger.com/2016/08/17/go...
I’ve always asserted that there is a distinct difference between having a dream for yourself and having a goal. To prove I’m educated in the difference between the two, here are the definitions:
A goal is: an aim or desired result
A dream is: a cherished aspiration, ambition, or ideal
Now, just looking at the two you might think they really are the same thing. But I don’t think they are and here’s why.
I always had a little dream to write romantic fiction and have it published. My dream was to be able to support myself as a writer and have the people who read my stuff like it, be loyal, and want more of it. That was it. Just a dream. A little fantasy that played out in my mind time after time. I’d imagine myself going to book signings and have the waiting line for my table be out the door and around the block! I’d make every bestseller list out there, and talk shows would be clamoring to schedule me whenever I had a new book released. Amazon would list me as a preferred author and my Goodreads page would be off the chart with followers.
Okay, so it was a BIG dream and not really a little one.
What turned my dream into a reality was when I set a goal for myself centering on that dream to write and publish. I put an action plan behind my fantasy. I set a time frame for what I wanted to happen, the means to make sure it did, and took steps to promote and push it along to fruition.
See the difference? My dream was ephemeral, just a thought, an idea, a wish. My goal put action behind the fantasy to make it come true. To break it down even further ( for you literary and English majors!) my dream was a noun and my goal was the verb.
Make sense?
Now, of course, I’m going to expound on that a lot more when I give my talk. I do have to fill an entire hour and not just a three minute ready-to-read-piece like this one! But I think my idea is solid. How I got to live out my fantasy, my dream, how I made it happen, will comprise the majority of the speech. But for now, I have a starting point, so thank’s for listening and ANY WORDS OF WISDOM would not only be appreciated, they would be cherished…so feel free.
Here’s the info, btw, if you want to attend the women’s weekend retreat and see me make a fool of myse–, er…hear me speak: Camp Takodah
and…if you can’t make it to the retreat, here’s where you can find me: Tweet Me// Read Me// Visit Me// Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
***** for images and links, go to : https://peggyjaeger.com/2016/08/17/go...
Winner!! Whiner?
Strange blog post title, right? Well, maybe not.
So, November is a memory, but not the November challenge of NaNoWrimo. You’ve – hopefully – gotten your winner banner, letting one and all know you managed to eek out that 50,000 word minimum for the month, and maybe even a little more ( like me!) and now you’re internally debating the next step.
Dive right into editing? Start to query agents, editors, and publishing houses? Print out the book and give it to one and all of your supportive peeps to read and review and critique?
Well, I hate to give advice because I hate to receive it, but….
Let’s sit back for a second and think this through.
You’ve just spent 30 arduous days giving literary birth to your new baby. A quick pregnancy in potential plotting ( if you’re a plotter) and then 30 continuous days of delivering it into the world. 720 hours, 43,200 minutes, 2,592,000 seconds ( does this remind you of a Broadway show tune?) That’s a lot of time spent in doing one thing, any way you slice and categorize it. The goal of the challenge is to write your story. To get it onto paper or the laptop. Like most writers competing in the challenge you did not edit along the way. I’m sure your manuscript – like mine – is rife with spelling, grammar, and tense mistakes, not to mention maybe a plot hole or two. Or three. Now is not the time to submit it or allow ANYONE to read and review it.
Now is the time to….sit back for a little bit. Let the manuscript safely stew in your file section. Don’t read it…don’t edit it…don’t start letting the publishing world know it’s available, because it’s not.
I know the excitement of getting the story down – and quickly – is high. Believe me, I know it. But you need to rest your creative brain for a tad and forget some of the words you wrote. Then, when sufficient time has passed – and that can be two days, two weeks, or even a month ( like AFTER the holidays!), you can open it from the file and start to read it with fresh eyes. Eyes that will see all those mistakes, plot holes, and character problems. Those setting mixups and description errors. You’ll be able to SEE you gave your heroine green eyes in chapter one and then realize the hero described them as brown in chapter four. You’ll be able to SEE the motivation you gave your killer to kill was the same internal struggle you gave your hero to. You’ll SEE the escape plan you concocted in chapter 6 is pretty much impossible if you’re penning a contemporary tale and not one filled with dragons and wizards.
Right now you are high on the fabulousness of what you’ve written. Let it stew a while and you’ll realize it’s still fabulous, but needs work. Namely, editing.
Editing with fresh eyes is the best way to find the problems and think of ways to correct them.
Now, as far as querying – don’t. Not now, and certainly not after the first read through. My last three NaNo written books have been published AFTER they went through extensive edits and rewrites BEFORE I even submitted them. The books I submitted to my publisher were the ones where I removed all the mistakes, fixed the grammar and tense, and idealized the plot and story line. My settings were all consistent, my characters fully formed and possessing the correct hair and eye color throughout the book! And even after they were bought they still needed more editing!!!
Do yourself a favor: have a glass ( or two or…) of wine, sit back and put your feet up on the ottoman. Watch a good romance chick flick or even an action adventure movie. Or both. Relax. Rest. Revive. Then you can review, revise, and rework those wonderful NaNoWriMo pages.
Trust me. You’ll be happy you did.
AND ( here comes a shameless plug and I’m not ashamed in the least) if you want to escape into something funny and read a holiday tale, try A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS, available right now. It’ll take your mind off writing and put it back on reading someone else's work for a bit.
When I’m not being shameless you can find me here:
Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me// Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
So, November is a memory, but not the November challenge of NaNoWrimo. You’ve – hopefully – gotten your winner banner, letting one and all know you managed to eek out that 50,000 word minimum for the month, and maybe even a little more ( like me!) and now you’re internally debating the next step.
Dive right into editing? Start to query agents, editors, and publishing houses? Print out the book and give it to one and all of your supportive peeps to read and review and critique?
Well, I hate to give advice because I hate to receive it, but….
Let’s sit back for a second and think this through.
You’ve just spent 30 arduous days giving literary birth to your new baby. A quick pregnancy in potential plotting ( if you’re a plotter) and then 30 continuous days of delivering it into the world. 720 hours, 43,200 minutes, 2,592,000 seconds ( does this remind you of a Broadway show tune?) That’s a lot of time spent in doing one thing, any way you slice and categorize it. The goal of the challenge is to write your story. To get it onto paper or the laptop. Like most writers competing in the challenge you did not edit along the way. I’m sure your manuscript – like mine – is rife with spelling, grammar, and tense mistakes, not to mention maybe a plot hole or two. Or three. Now is not the time to submit it or allow ANYONE to read and review it.
Now is the time to….sit back for a little bit. Let the manuscript safely stew in your file section. Don’t read it…don’t edit it…don’t start letting the publishing world know it’s available, because it’s not.
I know the excitement of getting the story down – and quickly – is high. Believe me, I know it. But you need to rest your creative brain for a tad and forget some of the words you wrote. Then, when sufficient time has passed – and that can be two days, two weeks, or even a month ( like AFTER the holidays!), you can open it from the file and start to read it with fresh eyes. Eyes that will see all those mistakes, plot holes, and character problems. Those setting mixups and description errors. You’ll be able to SEE you gave your heroine green eyes in chapter one and then realize the hero described them as brown in chapter four. You’ll be able to SEE the motivation you gave your killer to kill was the same internal struggle you gave your hero to. You’ll SEE the escape plan you concocted in chapter 6 is pretty much impossible if you’re penning a contemporary tale and not one filled with dragons and wizards.
Right now you are high on the fabulousness of what you’ve written. Let it stew a while and you’ll realize it’s still fabulous, but needs work. Namely, editing.
Editing with fresh eyes is the best way to find the problems and think of ways to correct them.
Now, as far as querying – don’t. Not now, and certainly not after the first read through. My last three NaNo written books have been published AFTER they went through extensive edits and rewrites BEFORE I even submitted them. The books I submitted to my publisher were the ones where I removed all the mistakes, fixed the grammar and tense, and idealized the plot and story line. My settings were all consistent, my characters fully formed and possessing the correct hair and eye color throughout the book! And even after they were bought they still needed more editing!!!
Do yourself a favor: have a glass ( or two or…) of wine, sit back and put your feet up on the ottoman. Watch a good romance chick flick or even an action adventure movie. Or both. Relax. Rest. Revive. Then you can review, revise, and rework those wonderful NaNoWriMo pages.
Trust me. You’ll be happy you did.
AND ( here comes a shameless plug and I’m not ashamed in the least) if you want to escape into something funny and read a holiday tale, try A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS, available right now. It’ll take your mind off writing and put it back on reading someone else's work for a bit.
When I’m not being shameless you can find me here:
Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me// Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
I need a little #writer and #RomanceReader help…
This is going to be a good test to see if anyone ever reads my blogs!!
I told you recently that I’m all atwitter and discombobulated because I’m putting together a Power Point presentation for my local NHRWA chapter in March and then for the New England (NECRWA) Chapter in April and I’m learning (slowly) the ins and outs of the PP program.
That’s fine. No worries there.
But…
I need a little help from my romance writer and reader friends. Who ( what author) do you read who writes romance with heroines and heroes OLDER than 45 years old? I’m not looking for writers who write about the fabulous 20 somethings or terrific thirty-year-olds. I want romance titles and books written about folks in their middle years. If you read romance books concerning this age group, please send me book titles or the authors who write them.
I have a few in mind, but I want to explore more. Please.
I’ll say thank you in advance.
I told you recently that I’m all atwitter and discombobulated because I’m putting together a Power Point presentation for my local NHRWA chapter in March and then for the New England (NECRWA) Chapter in April and I’m learning (slowly) the ins and outs of the PP program.
That’s fine. No worries there.
But…
I need a little help from my romance writer and reader friends. Who ( what author) do you read who writes romance with heroines and heroes OLDER than 45 years old? I’m not looking for writers who write about the fabulous 20 somethings or terrific thirty-year-olds. I want romance titles and books written about folks in their middle years. If you read romance books concerning this age group, please send me book titles or the authors who write them.
I have a few in mind, but I want to explore more. Please.
I’ll say thank you in advance.
A #NewYear, a time for new #blogideas
2016 has exited the building – thank you, Jesus! Now it’s time to figure out what I’m going to say here, in this forum, for the next 365 days.
No pressure….not!
I started this blog because I wanted to talk about writing with people who enjoyed writing as well. Over the past 2 years, it’s morphed into something more. More substantial; more funny; at times, more an internal reflection of my feelings and emotions about…stuff. I’ve been able to introduce you to new authors who are fab and promote their work. I’ve had some serious discussions about life, writing life, family stuff, and current events. I’ve veered away from anything controversial and/or political/ and negative. I’ve wanted this to be a fun place to spend a few minutes getting to know new writers, and to challenge you with ideas. I hope I’ve done my job…
So, 2017. What the heck am I gonna talk about??
Well, I do have some new author interviews lined up already and I can’t wait for you to meet these talented writers.
I’ve also got at least 2 books of my own coming out this year ( maybe 3!) and I know I’ll be going gungho with promoting them.
The publishing world seems to be changing daily, so we’ll talk about that.
I’ve got at least 4 writing trips coming up this year, so you know I’ll be showing you pictures of your favorite romance authors whom I’ll be meeting and fawning over, plus writing about my traveling experiences.
And I guess I’ll be divulging some more personal stuff – only the funny stuff, though!!!
2017 promises to be a life-changing one for me – I’ve got lots going on!!! All good and all exciting.
So, stay tuned and we’ll discuss……lots of stuff!
No pressure….not!
I started this blog because I wanted to talk about writing with people who enjoyed writing as well. Over the past 2 years, it’s morphed into something more. More substantial; more funny; at times, more an internal reflection of my feelings and emotions about…stuff. I’ve been able to introduce you to new authors who are fab and promote their work. I’ve had some serious discussions about life, writing life, family stuff, and current events. I’ve veered away from anything controversial and/or political/ and negative. I’ve wanted this to be a fun place to spend a few minutes getting to know new writers, and to challenge you with ideas. I hope I’ve done my job…
So, 2017. What the heck am I gonna talk about??
Well, I do have some new author interviews lined up already and I can’t wait for you to meet these talented writers.
I’ve also got at least 2 books of my own coming out this year ( maybe 3!) and I know I’ll be going gungho with promoting them.
The publishing world seems to be changing daily, so we’ll talk about that.
I’ve got at least 4 writing trips coming up this year, so you know I’ll be showing you pictures of your favorite romance authors whom I’ll be meeting and fawning over, plus writing about my traveling experiences.
And I guess I’ll be divulging some more personal stuff – only the funny stuff, though!!!
2017 promises to be a life-changing one for me – I’ve got lots going on!!! All good and all exciting.
So, stay tuned and we’ll discuss……lots of stuff!
#NewYear, #NewOffice…
click this link to see the photos:
https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/01/10/ne...
I’ve mentioned here, ad nauseum(!), that I write in my attic overlooking my property. It’s private, spacious, and quiet most of the time. I put that last part in because of late it has become almost impossible to work in.
Why, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.
The window overlooks the woods and the property next to mine. A property occupied by an elderly couple and their two very ….loud and obnoxious dogs. The dogs are put into a pen several times a day for hours at a time and the pen is directly in line with my window. In fact, they’re out there right now, barking away. When the window is open in good weather I am treated to hours upon hours of continual barking. It’s just as loud in the winter because the trees are bare and can’t buffer the sound. And it’s not just a few woofs and then a doggie nap. It’s like Dino Flintstone barking. Just click this link and you’ll get an idea of what I mean. This is all day, every day, no matter what the weather. Dead of winter or heat of summer. After a day it’s annoying. After a year it’s soul sucking.
So…this year I am moving to the other side of the attic into a room we’ve used as a storage/craft/sewing/painting room for me for the past 24 years. This is a sample of what was stored in the room until this weekend when I did a massive clean out! ( click link for photo)
This is what the room looks like right now:
Hubby taped the window, door and closet frames and now we are all set to paint. As you can see it’s a very light, pale blue. I’m going green on this…more pictures to follow once the process begins. I can’t wait to have my own REAL office.
And I can’t wait to get away from the Dino twins next door!
Here’s a quick video on my FaceBook Author, author page to “see” the renovations.
When I’m not redecorating or being annoyed by barking dogs, you can find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/01/10/ne...
I’ve mentioned here, ad nauseum(!), that I write in my attic overlooking my property. It’s private, spacious, and quiet most of the time. I put that last part in because of late it has become almost impossible to work in.
Why, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.
The window overlooks the woods and the property next to mine. A property occupied by an elderly couple and their two very ….loud and obnoxious dogs. The dogs are put into a pen several times a day for hours at a time and the pen is directly in line with my window. In fact, they’re out there right now, barking away. When the window is open in good weather I am treated to hours upon hours of continual barking. It’s just as loud in the winter because the trees are bare and can’t buffer the sound. And it’s not just a few woofs and then a doggie nap. It’s like Dino Flintstone barking. Just click this link and you’ll get an idea of what I mean. This is all day, every day, no matter what the weather. Dead of winter or heat of summer. After a day it’s annoying. After a year it’s soul sucking.
So…this year I am moving to the other side of the attic into a room we’ve used as a storage/craft/sewing/painting room for me for the past 24 years. This is a sample of what was stored in the room until this weekend when I did a massive clean out! ( click link for photo)
This is what the room looks like right now:
Hubby taped the window, door and closet frames and now we are all set to paint. As you can see it’s a very light, pale blue. I’m going green on this…more pictures to follow once the process begins. I can’t wait to have my own REAL office.
And I can’t wait to get away from the Dino twins next door!
Here’s a quick video on my FaceBook Author, author page to “see” the renovations.
When I’m not redecorating or being annoyed by barking dogs, you can find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
Author Spotlight: Peggy Jaeger
to see images, click on this link:
https://anniesbookstopworcester.wordp...
Annie’s Book Stop of Worcester is happy to shine their Author Spotlight on contemporary romance author Peggy Jaeger! Peggy will be here at our 65 James Street “bigger on the inside” book store as part of our “Let your Heart’s Desire Keep You Warm” panel of romance authors on Sunday, January 29, from 3:00 – 5:00 PM.
Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance author who writes about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.
Peggy, a registered Nurse, holds a master’s degree in Nursing Administration and first found publication with several articles she authored on Alzheimer’s Disease during her time running an Alzheimer’s in-patient care unit during the 1990s.
A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, she is a member of RWA and the current Secretary of her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.
Thank you for joining us for an interview, Peggy! What draws you to the particular genre or style that you write? What do you think draws readers to these kinds of books?
I’ve always been a sap for the happily ever after kind of story, so romance is the perfect genre for me to read and write. My childhood wasn’t exactly the happy Brady Bunch or Father Knows Best kind of upbringing. And because of it, I found myself lost in books as a way of coping and escape more often than not. As I got older (read: impressionable teen years!), I gravitated toward books with love as the main theme, AKA romance. I adore the Regency period – all those gowns and double entendre conversations – and I simply love contemporary romances. I don’t have the patience to learn how to write Regency the correct way – too many rules! But contemporary is the here and now, and basically, life as I know it.
I think Romance readers are always drawn to the thought that anyone – including themselves – can star in and have their own happily ever after. Love is a universal emotion. We all want it, crave it, and need it to survive. I believe that with all my heart and soul. Readers want to suffer through the conflicts and problems and turmoils of the heroine and hero. Maybe they see similar facets of their own relationships in the story. Maybe they see the glimmer of hope the writer weaves into the plot that despite everything, all will be well in the end. First, you have to be dragged over and under the coals, and all may look black and lost, but the ultimate ending will be satisfying and our love interests will survive…together. Who wouldn’t want to read about ultimate happiness and everlasting love conquering all, with the state the world is in today?
How important has the New England setting been to your writing?
My first 4 books all took place in New England – Connecticut and New Hampshire, primarily. My newest series takes place, mostly, in New York City. I’m starting another series about a fictional town in New Hampshire in the new year (2017), so I would have to say the New England setting is very important to my writing!
I love New Hampshire in the spring and fall. Between the changing colors of autumn, and the beauty of blooming spring, New England is, simply, beautiful. Our own cottage industry – leaf peeping season – proves other people who don’t live around here believe that as well and want to share in seeing all our environmental natural loveliness.
Small towns are important to me. Their values, family centered morality, and sense of neighbor-liness are rampant in my writing, and New England sets the stage perfectly.
What piece of advice would you want to share with other writers?
I was an overnight success. It just took 55 years to realize it! I guess the most important piece of advice I would give anyone who is passionate about something – be it writing or anything else – is to do it for yourself first. Don’t think about your audience when you write. Write the story of your heart. The one you haven’t seen published anywhere else. Be true to yourself and that ideal. I would have been just fine if I’d never found a publisher willing to take me on. I would still have kept writing my stories because I wanted to. My characters wanted to be born on the page and I wasn’t going to stop them. Self publishing was never a thought in my mind and still isn’t. I don’t have the absolute discipline it needs to be a successful Indie author. You have to be everything – editor, cover designer, marketer, financial officer, and 50 other things that are beyond me. I just want to write and leave all those things to the people who know how to do them well, because I do not! I have many friends who self publish, and they are marvels! I don’t have the self-regulation to do it.
So, be true to yourself and your writing first and foremost. Don’t write for the market, because the market changes hourly. Don’t write for a specific genre of romance because it is viewed as the new hot commodity, the next flavor of the month. In a heartbeat, it will change again.
Write what you want, in the way you want. Be true to you.
What else can we expect from you in the near future?
I have a new series of romances coming out from Kensington/Lyrical in 2017/18, centering around a family of women who cook. The series is called WILL COOK FOR LOVE and the first book, COOKING WITH KANDY releases on April 4, 2017. I love writing about women and men who cook. To me, food is love. In all the new books there will be recipes that I have worked, re-worked, and re-imagined for years that I’m sharing with the reader.
As a little aside, I had a Valentine’s release in 2016 titled 3 WISHES, a Candy Hearts Romance. That book centered on a chocolatier, Chloe San Valentino. In almost every single review of the book, the review stated they were hungry after reading it because of all the delicious candy confections Chloe made – and I described. I’m hoping the WILL COOK FOR LOVE series does the same thing to the reader – makes them hungry for food and romance! And my books!
What is/are your passions when you’re not writing? How do you make time for your non-writing hobbies/things you love?
Going with that theme of cooking, I love to cook. I currently have over 100 cookbooks in my house that are dog-eared and well-worn-loved. My mother was a working mom and didn’t get home most nights until well after the dinner hour was over, so I had learn to cook for myself or eat sandwiches every night. And when she did cook something, it was usually a pre-made meal. Nothing was ever from scratch. I’m not judging her – please understand that. She was just too tired and too busy to worry about the food she gave us. When my daughter was growing up and still lived at home, I cooked all the time. Baked, too. I still cook a full meal 6 nights a week for my husband and myself. Most weekends we eat out once, but there have been months that we haven’t darkened a restaurant door!
The funny thing about my love of cooking is that I have a never ending list of food sensitivities. That doesn’t stop me, though, from trying new recipes and new flavor profiles, because I also love to have company (friends) come over to the house on the weekends and cook for them. To me, cooking for someone shows how much you care about them. Anyone can pick up take out, or pop in a microwave dinner. But to make something from scratch, using fresh ingredients, spices, and flavors, is a real way to show how much you care.
Where can people find your work? (Besides ABSW ;)–though they should totally check here first!)
Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
How can we follow your work, share your awesomeness, or otherwise stalk you in a totally non-creepy way?
Website/Blog: http://peggyjaeger.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/peggy_jaeger
Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Peggy-...
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/peggyjaeger/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Instagram: https://instagram.com/mmj122687/
Thank you again for letting us interview you, Peggy! We look forward to having you at the store on Sunday, January 29, from 3:00-5:00 with our “Let Your Heart’s Desire Keep You Warm” panel of romance authors!
https://anniesbookstopworcester.wordp...
Annie’s Book Stop of Worcester is happy to shine their Author Spotlight on contemporary romance author Peggy Jaeger! Peggy will be here at our 65 James Street “bigger on the inside” book store as part of our “Let your Heart’s Desire Keep You Warm” panel of romance authors on Sunday, January 29, from 3:00 – 5:00 PM.
Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance author who writes about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.
Peggy, a registered Nurse, holds a master’s degree in Nursing Administration and first found publication with several articles she authored on Alzheimer’s Disease during her time running an Alzheimer’s in-patient care unit during the 1990s.
A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, she is a member of RWA and the current Secretary of her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.
Thank you for joining us for an interview, Peggy! What draws you to the particular genre or style that you write? What do you think draws readers to these kinds of books?
I’ve always been a sap for the happily ever after kind of story, so romance is the perfect genre for me to read and write. My childhood wasn’t exactly the happy Brady Bunch or Father Knows Best kind of upbringing. And because of it, I found myself lost in books as a way of coping and escape more often than not. As I got older (read: impressionable teen years!), I gravitated toward books with love as the main theme, AKA romance. I adore the Regency period – all those gowns and double entendre conversations – and I simply love contemporary romances. I don’t have the patience to learn how to write Regency the correct way – too many rules! But contemporary is the here and now, and basically, life as I know it.
I think Romance readers are always drawn to the thought that anyone – including themselves – can star in and have their own happily ever after. Love is a universal emotion. We all want it, crave it, and need it to survive. I believe that with all my heart and soul. Readers want to suffer through the conflicts and problems and turmoils of the heroine and hero. Maybe they see similar facets of their own relationships in the story. Maybe they see the glimmer of hope the writer weaves into the plot that despite everything, all will be well in the end. First, you have to be dragged over and under the coals, and all may look black and lost, but the ultimate ending will be satisfying and our love interests will survive…together. Who wouldn’t want to read about ultimate happiness and everlasting love conquering all, with the state the world is in today?
How important has the New England setting been to your writing?
My first 4 books all took place in New England – Connecticut and New Hampshire, primarily. My newest series takes place, mostly, in New York City. I’m starting another series about a fictional town in New Hampshire in the new year (2017), so I would have to say the New England setting is very important to my writing!
I love New Hampshire in the spring and fall. Between the changing colors of autumn, and the beauty of blooming spring, New England is, simply, beautiful. Our own cottage industry – leaf peeping season – proves other people who don’t live around here believe that as well and want to share in seeing all our environmental natural loveliness.
Small towns are important to me. Their values, family centered morality, and sense of neighbor-liness are rampant in my writing, and New England sets the stage perfectly.
What piece of advice would you want to share with other writers?
I was an overnight success. It just took 55 years to realize it! I guess the most important piece of advice I would give anyone who is passionate about something – be it writing or anything else – is to do it for yourself first. Don’t think about your audience when you write. Write the story of your heart. The one you haven’t seen published anywhere else. Be true to yourself and that ideal. I would have been just fine if I’d never found a publisher willing to take me on. I would still have kept writing my stories because I wanted to. My characters wanted to be born on the page and I wasn’t going to stop them. Self publishing was never a thought in my mind and still isn’t. I don’t have the absolute discipline it needs to be a successful Indie author. You have to be everything – editor, cover designer, marketer, financial officer, and 50 other things that are beyond me. I just want to write and leave all those things to the people who know how to do them well, because I do not! I have many friends who self publish, and they are marvels! I don’t have the self-regulation to do it.
So, be true to yourself and your writing first and foremost. Don’t write for the market, because the market changes hourly. Don’t write for a specific genre of romance because it is viewed as the new hot commodity, the next flavor of the month. In a heartbeat, it will change again.
Write what you want, in the way you want. Be true to you.
What else can we expect from you in the near future?
I have a new series of romances coming out from Kensington/Lyrical in 2017/18, centering around a family of women who cook. The series is called WILL COOK FOR LOVE and the first book, COOKING WITH KANDY releases on April 4, 2017. I love writing about women and men who cook. To me, food is love. In all the new books there will be recipes that I have worked, re-worked, and re-imagined for years that I’m sharing with the reader.
As a little aside, I had a Valentine’s release in 2016 titled 3 WISHES, a Candy Hearts Romance. That book centered on a chocolatier, Chloe San Valentino. In almost every single review of the book, the review stated they were hungry after reading it because of all the delicious candy confections Chloe made – and I described. I’m hoping the WILL COOK FOR LOVE series does the same thing to the reader – makes them hungry for food and romance! And my books!
What is/are your passions when you’re not writing? How do you make time for your non-writing hobbies/things you love?
Going with that theme of cooking, I love to cook. I currently have over 100 cookbooks in my house that are dog-eared and well-worn-loved. My mother was a working mom and didn’t get home most nights until well after the dinner hour was over, so I had learn to cook for myself or eat sandwiches every night. And when she did cook something, it was usually a pre-made meal. Nothing was ever from scratch. I’m not judging her – please understand that. She was just too tired and too busy to worry about the food she gave us. When my daughter was growing up and still lived at home, I cooked all the time. Baked, too. I still cook a full meal 6 nights a week for my husband and myself. Most weekends we eat out once, but there have been months that we haven’t darkened a restaurant door!
The funny thing about my love of cooking is that I have a never ending list of food sensitivities. That doesn’t stop me, though, from trying new recipes and new flavor profiles, because I also love to have company (friends) come over to the house on the weekends and cook for them. To me, cooking for someone shows how much you care about them. Anyone can pick up take out, or pop in a microwave dinner. But to make something from scratch, using fresh ingredients, spices, and flavors, is a real way to show how much you care.
Where can people find your work? (Besides ABSW ;)–though they should totally check here first!)
Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
How can we follow your work, share your awesomeness, or otherwise stalk you in a totally non-creepy way?
Website/Blog: http://peggyjaeger.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/peggy_jaeger
Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Peggy-...
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/peggyjaeger/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Instagram: https://instagram.com/mmj122687/
Thank you again for letting us interview you, Peggy! We look forward to having you at the store on Sunday, January 29, from 3:00-5:00 with our “Let Your Heart’s Desire Keep You Warm” panel of romance authors!
On #Snowydays and being a #hermit…
We’ve been having quite a few snowstorms of late here in the northland. Accumulation has taken on a whole new meaning this year with regards to the snow mountains we’ve already amassed. And it’s only January.
It’s wintry days like this when I’m glad I write for a living. As I watch the continual downfall of white cascading from the sky, I take real pleasure in the fact I am sitting at my laptop clad in my pajamas even though it’s two in the afternoon. My hair is up in a messy knot, devoid of even the thought of a brushing. I wear no makeup, just moisturizer with anti-aging stuff ( hey! I’m on the southside of 50…I need it.) My feet are warm in my fuzzy, faux-leopard print slippers. Eventually, I will shower. And by eventually I mean sometime before my husband returns from work and I have to start dinner.
I’ve mentioned several times before I could so be a hermit if need be. Stormy days go by where I don’t leave the house once, even to get to the gym. At those times I use the treadmill and weights we have stored in the basement. I go without speaking to anyone but my husband for a few minutes before he leaves in the morning, to nothing more until he returns back home later that evening. I don’t answer the phone, leaving the old-fashioned machine to do the honors. There are days when I’ve said about 20 words in 24 hours. A solitary existence, perfect for the creative mind.
And you know what? I love it. Love the isolation. Love the quiet. Love the natural beauty I can look upon through my window.
So. Snowy days and being a writing recluse….they’re good things.
At least for me, anyway.
While I’m being a hermit you can usually find me–if you need me–here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
It’s wintry days like this when I’m glad I write for a living. As I watch the continual downfall of white cascading from the sky, I take real pleasure in the fact I am sitting at my laptop clad in my pajamas even though it’s two in the afternoon. My hair is up in a messy knot, devoid of even the thought of a brushing. I wear no makeup, just moisturizer with anti-aging stuff ( hey! I’m on the southside of 50…I need it.) My feet are warm in my fuzzy, faux-leopard print slippers. Eventually, I will shower. And by eventually I mean sometime before my husband returns from work and I have to start dinner.
I’ve mentioned several times before I could so be a hermit if need be. Stormy days go by where I don’t leave the house once, even to get to the gym. At those times I use the treadmill and weights we have stored in the basement. I go without speaking to anyone but my husband for a few minutes before he leaves in the morning, to nothing more until he returns back home later that evening. I don’t answer the phone, leaving the old-fashioned machine to do the honors. There are days when I’ve said about 20 words in 24 hours. A solitary existence, perfect for the creative mind.
And you know what? I love it. Love the isolation. Love the quiet. Love the natural beauty I can look upon through my window.
So. Snowy days and being a writing recluse….they’re good things.
At least for me, anyway.
While I’m being a hermit you can usually find me–if you need me–here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
Does it make a difference where a #writer writes?
to see images, click on the link:
https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/01/24/do...
I live a solitary existence during the day. I write from home. It’s quiet, I can hear myself think, I don’t have to get dressed if I don’t want to, and I can talk out loud in my character’s voices when I’m creating dialogue without the fear someone will call the crazy police and have me carted off.
I know writers, though, who actually write out in the…wilds. Or in this case, civilization. In coffee bars, sandwich shops, at the local library. Places that have, you know, people, milling around. I’ve never written anywhere that wasn’t isolated and private. Even the library with its noise restrictions is too loud for me because…you know…whispering!
I’ve got a scientific background, so one day I thought I’d put it to rusty use and do an experiment as see how this other creative faction, well, creates.
I actually got dressed – makeup too! – packed up my laptop and ventured north to a popular gathering place in my neck of the northland: Panera.
I’ve been in Panera any time of the day and I know it’s always crowded, so the time I began my experiment didn’t factor in. Just for transparency sake, though, I got there a little before 10:30 am. After the morning coffe/bagel rush and before the lunch crowd pressed in.
The place was – as usual – packed, but I found a single booth off in one corner under a window overlooking the busy parking lot. Because I couldn’t just sit there and observe without eating something, I ordered a bagel and a soda and when it was ready, settled down to try and do some work. I was at a critical point in a WIP plot line and needed to get through some emotional dialogue.
Laptop on and file opened, I took a sip of soda, a bite of bagel, and then put my fingers over the keyboard, ready to see what magic I could make. Ready to see if I could make some magic without getting distracted, in actuality.
Know what?
Yeah, you’ve probably already figured it out. No magic.
Just when I thought I had an idea, I got distracted by the loudly whispered argument ( well, fight really) going on in the booth behind me between two college-somethings. It was a little difficult to navigate through all the college slang speak of you’s knows, and multiple likes every other word. Plus. neither of them knew how to complete a phrase without adding f**king to the word descriptors. I was able to get the gist of their heated dissertation, though, after a few minutes. Apparently, Freshman A hooked up with Freshman B’s main squeeze at a drunken frat party and now both these young women had a date at the school health center for “tests.”
Just when I thought punches would be thrown, one of them got a text and then they both zipped out of there right after.
Back to writing, Or trying to.
I got an entire paragraph down before I heard the squealing, high-pitched scream of someone being vivisected. Or at least I assumed that’s what was happening to the toddler I spied out of the corner of my eye. He’d thrown himself down on all fours, writhing and pounding his puny fists into the faux marble decorated flooring, his lungs proving he’d have a busy career as an opera singer one day. tantrumHis gaunt, anorectic looking mother, red-cheeked and mortified, stood over him coaxing and cooing him to stop. The more she tried to comfort him the louder his wailing pitched. All patron eyes were zeroed in on these two, rubbernecking the tantrum, myself included. I wondered why no one came to the poor woman’s help and dragged the little brat up by his Baby Gap jeans, giving him a good tongue lashing at the same time, but then I realized that most well-intentioned people didn’t get involved these days because of frivolous lawsuits and backlash.
Eventually, the little bugger got tired and momma was able to pull him up ( I would have yanked!) and led him out of the eatery.
Back to writing – or trying to.
Ten minutes later a very loquacious and vivacious group of three women around my age and garbed in what looked like workout wear ( spandex leggings that barely came to ankles; multicolored track sneaks over tiny socks, and skin tight racer back tops) sat down in the booth in front of mine and proceeded to talk.
A lot. Like, non-stop. They spoke over one another, trampled on each other’s sentences, guffawed at what they were saying-loudly!- and generally seemed to be enjoying one another’s company. They stayed for over an hour, much longer than the time it took them to eat their salads, just…talking. About anything and everything.
I’d now been in Panera’s for over two and a half hours and had written exactly 76 words. My usual rate for that amount of time is at least 1000-1500, easy. At this point, I felt it was safe to conclude I wasn’t one of those lucky writers who could block all extraneous noise and commotion from my creative subconscious. I wrote better-certainly MORE- when I was alone, it was quiet, and I had no distractions, so I went back home and proceeded to write 10 pages by dinner time.
And even though I proved my hypothesis ( I can’t write with distractions!) I will admit this: being out in the wilds, er, civilization, even for an abbreviated time, helped me hone in on varying speech patterns for age-appropriate dialogue, gave me a new appreciation for how well behaved my daughter had been as a child ( I need to call her to tell her how much I love her!) and made me thankful I have girlfriends like those 3 women I listened to who- just when I need it the most- kidnap me from my self-imposed isolation and hermit-dom, and bring me back into the living fold.
Now, back to writing. Alone.
When I’m not doing social experiments you can usually find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/01/24/do...
I live a solitary existence during the day. I write from home. It’s quiet, I can hear myself think, I don’t have to get dressed if I don’t want to, and I can talk out loud in my character’s voices when I’m creating dialogue without the fear someone will call the crazy police and have me carted off.
I know writers, though, who actually write out in the…wilds. Or in this case, civilization. In coffee bars, sandwich shops, at the local library. Places that have, you know, people, milling around. I’ve never written anywhere that wasn’t isolated and private. Even the library with its noise restrictions is too loud for me because…you know…whispering!
I’ve got a scientific background, so one day I thought I’d put it to rusty use and do an experiment as see how this other creative faction, well, creates.
I actually got dressed – makeup too! – packed up my laptop and ventured north to a popular gathering place in my neck of the northland: Panera.
I’ve been in Panera any time of the day and I know it’s always crowded, so the time I began my experiment didn’t factor in. Just for transparency sake, though, I got there a little before 10:30 am. After the morning coffe/bagel rush and before the lunch crowd pressed in.
The place was – as usual – packed, but I found a single booth off in one corner under a window overlooking the busy parking lot. Because I couldn’t just sit there and observe without eating something, I ordered a bagel and a soda and when it was ready, settled down to try and do some work. I was at a critical point in a WIP plot line and needed to get through some emotional dialogue.
Laptop on and file opened, I took a sip of soda, a bite of bagel, and then put my fingers over the keyboard, ready to see what magic I could make. Ready to see if I could make some magic without getting distracted, in actuality.
Know what?
Yeah, you’ve probably already figured it out. No magic.
Just when I thought I had an idea, I got distracted by the loudly whispered argument ( well, fight really) going on in the booth behind me between two college-somethings. It was a little difficult to navigate through all the college slang speak of you’s knows, and multiple likes every other word. Plus. neither of them knew how to complete a phrase without adding f**king to the word descriptors. I was able to get the gist of their heated dissertation, though, after a few minutes. Apparently, Freshman A hooked up with Freshman B’s main squeeze at a drunken frat party and now both these young women had a date at the school health center for “tests.”
Just when I thought punches would be thrown, one of them got a text and then they both zipped out of there right after.
Back to writing, Or trying to.
I got an entire paragraph down before I heard the squealing, high-pitched scream of someone being vivisected. Or at least I assumed that’s what was happening to the toddler I spied out of the corner of my eye. He’d thrown himself down on all fours, writhing and pounding his puny fists into the faux marble decorated flooring, his lungs proving he’d have a busy career as an opera singer one day. tantrumHis gaunt, anorectic looking mother, red-cheeked and mortified, stood over him coaxing and cooing him to stop. The more she tried to comfort him the louder his wailing pitched. All patron eyes were zeroed in on these two, rubbernecking the tantrum, myself included. I wondered why no one came to the poor woman’s help and dragged the little brat up by his Baby Gap jeans, giving him a good tongue lashing at the same time, but then I realized that most well-intentioned people didn’t get involved these days because of frivolous lawsuits and backlash.
Eventually, the little bugger got tired and momma was able to pull him up ( I would have yanked!) and led him out of the eatery.
Back to writing – or trying to.
Ten minutes later a very loquacious and vivacious group of three women around my age and garbed in what looked like workout wear ( spandex leggings that barely came to ankles; multicolored track sneaks over tiny socks, and skin tight racer back tops) sat down in the booth in front of mine and proceeded to talk.
A lot. Like, non-stop. They spoke over one another, trampled on each other’s sentences, guffawed at what they were saying-loudly!- and generally seemed to be enjoying one another’s company. They stayed for over an hour, much longer than the time it took them to eat their salads, just…talking. About anything and everything.
I’d now been in Panera’s for over two and a half hours and had written exactly 76 words. My usual rate for that amount of time is at least 1000-1500, easy. At this point, I felt it was safe to conclude I wasn’t one of those lucky writers who could block all extraneous noise and commotion from my creative subconscious. I wrote better-certainly MORE- when I was alone, it was quiet, and I had no distractions, so I went back home and proceeded to write 10 pages by dinner time.
And even though I proved my hypothesis ( I can’t write with distractions!) I will admit this: being out in the wilds, er, civilization, even for an abbreviated time, helped me hone in on varying speech patterns for age-appropriate dialogue, gave me a new appreciation for how well behaved my daughter had been as a child ( I need to call her to tell her how much I love her!) and made me thankful I have girlfriends like those 3 women I listened to who- just when I need it the most- kidnap me from my self-imposed isolation and hermit-dom, and bring me back into the living fold.
Now, back to writing. Alone.
When I’m not doing social experiments you can usually find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/01/26/12...
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A little disclaimer. I go to the gym 5-6 times per week. Sometimes I just walk on the treadmill and watch mindless television shows on my iPad for an hour, racking up my steps on my FitBit Charger HR. Others, I work out with machines and weights and then speed walk on the treadmill to fast rock music. I tell you this boring stuff so you have a head’s up about what’s to come next (!)
The other day was a weight/machines/fast walk day. I was just finishing up the cool down on the treadmill, getting my heart rate back to a normal, non-galloping rate, and enjoying Prince’s WHEN DOVES CRY as my cool down song. I’d put a link here to it on you-tube, but because of proprietary laws, his estate has removed them.
Anyway.
I finished, pressed my Fitbit to stop recording my timed workout, then shut off my iPod and yanked my earbuds out of my ears. Here’s where the day turned-almost-to a disaster.
Apparently, I yanked so hard I caused a suction buildup between my inner ear and my earbud. This is what it looked like:
Notice there is a white safety piece on one side and not the other. Where was that piece, you ask? Well, I think you can guess. Yup. Still stuck in my ear.
I tried to pull it out but it was lodged so securely ( suction, remember) and I have little ears, that I couldn’t dislodge it with my fingers. The more I tried, the further into the canal it went. Funny thing? After about a minute of fiddling with trying to get it out, I couldn’t hear as well. I’m deaf in my left ear due to a childhood accident and the piece was lodged in my right ear. Yeah. Not a good situation.
What to do? I mean, my options were to continue to try and remove it with my fingers, but that was proving impossible, take myself to the ER where I’d be charged a gazillion dollars for a stupid visit, or try and garner some help. The last one was the one I was most worried about. I mean, really. Would you want to stick your fingers in a stranger’s ear? Ungloved?
I went out to the front desk at Planet Fitness and stated my plight. As I was disclosing my stupidity I had a thought, so I asked if they had an emergency kit. They did. I asked if there was the typical plastic tweezer included in it. There was. I asked if I could borrow that said tweezer and attempt to remove this hearing-impairing, pain in the a** piece of plastic. They said yes.
So. Armed with the tweezer – and it wasn’t your typical little metal one. tweezersNO, it was a big, honking, blue and ugly plastic thingie that was way larger than my ear canal opening – I went back into the changing room and attempted to get the stupid thing out. Not easy. Not by a long shot. I couldn’t see what I was doing because they only have regular, stationary mirrors, and not makeup mirrors you can move around. I stuck the giant tweezer into my ear – blindly – and tried to grasp the edge so I could get it out. After a minute or so ( seemed like an hour!) I started to sweat because this wasn’t easy. I am not coordinated on the best of days and this was certainly the kind of procedure that required someone with three eyes. Or two people.
But.
After a few minutes, success. I pulled the offending piece of s**t out and tossed it in the garbage. Then I washed the tweezers and returned them to the front desk. I offered to pay for replacement ones because they’d just saved me about $ 1000.00 in ER fees and how much could the plastic ones be, anyway? About 2 bucks, tops? But they were so gracious and told me since they were plastic, I didn’t need to. They’d see to getting a new pair for the emergency kit.
Moral of this story- Oh, my God, there are sosososo many. But the main one is this: be careful of the types of devices you put anywhere in your body. Something even as innocuous as an ear bud piece can cause problems. Now I have the official iPhone earbuds for when I listen to music:
Notice how they have no plastic coverings. I clean them every day after use with peroxide and water on a cotton ball.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness and safety.
‘Nuff said about my ears.
When I’m not getting into trouble at the gym you can typically find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/01/26/12...
A little disclaimer. I go to the gym 5-6 times per week. Sometimes I just walk on the treadmill and watch mindless television shows on my iPad for an hour, racking up my steps on my FitBit Charger HR. Others, I work out with machines and weights and then speed walk on the treadmill to fast rock music. I tell you this boring stuff so you have a head’s up about what’s to come next (!)
The other day was a weight/machines/fast walk day. I was just finishing up the cool down on the treadmill, getting my heart rate back to a normal, non-galloping rate, and enjoying Prince’s WHEN DOVES CRY as my cool down song. I’d put a link here to it on you-tube, but because of proprietary laws, his estate has removed them.
Anyway.
I finished, pressed my Fitbit to stop recording my timed workout, then shut off my iPod and yanked my earbuds out of my ears. Here’s where the day turned-almost-to a disaster.
Apparently, I yanked so hard I caused a suction buildup between my inner ear and my earbud. This is what it looked like:
Notice there is a white safety piece on one side and not the other. Where was that piece, you ask? Well, I think you can guess. Yup. Still stuck in my ear.
I tried to pull it out but it was lodged so securely ( suction, remember) and I have little ears, that I couldn’t dislodge it with my fingers. The more I tried, the further into the canal it went. Funny thing? After about a minute of fiddling with trying to get it out, I couldn’t hear as well. I’m deaf in my left ear due to a childhood accident and the piece was lodged in my right ear. Yeah. Not a good situation.
What to do? I mean, my options were to continue to try and remove it with my fingers, but that was proving impossible, take myself to the ER where I’d be charged a gazillion dollars for a stupid visit, or try and garner some help. The last one was the one I was most worried about. I mean, really. Would you want to stick your fingers in a stranger’s ear? Ungloved?
I went out to the front desk at Planet Fitness and stated my plight. As I was disclosing my stupidity I had a thought, so I asked if they had an emergency kit. They did. I asked if there was the typical plastic tweezer included in it. There was. I asked if I could borrow that said tweezer and attempt to remove this hearing-impairing, pain in the a** piece of plastic. They said yes.
So. Armed with the tweezer – and it wasn’t your typical little metal one. tweezersNO, it was a big, honking, blue and ugly plastic thingie that was way larger than my ear canal opening – I went back into the changing room and attempted to get the stupid thing out. Not easy. Not by a long shot. I couldn’t see what I was doing because they only have regular, stationary mirrors, and not makeup mirrors you can move around. I stuck the giant tweezer into my ear – blindly – and tried to grasp the edge so I could get it out. After a minute or so ( seemed like an hour!) I started to sweat because this wasn’t easy. I am not coordinated on the best of days and this was certainly the kind of procedure that required someone with three eyes. Or two people.
But.
After a few minutes, success. I pulled the offending piece of s**t out and tossed it in the garbage. Then I washed the tweezers and returned them to the front desk. I offered to pay for replacement ones because they’d just saved me about $ 1000.00 in ER fees and how much could the plastic ones be, anyway? About 2 bucks, tops? But they were so gracious and told me since they were plastic, I didn’t need to. They’d see to getting a new pair for the emergency kit.
Moral of this story- Oh, my God, there are sosososo many. But the main one is this: be careful of the types of devices you put anywhere in your body. Something even as innocuous as an ear bud piece can cause problems. Now I have the official iPhone earbuds for when I listen to music:
Notice how they have no plastic coverings. I clean them every day after use with peroxide and water on a cotton ball.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness and safety.
‘Nuff said about my ears.
When I’m not getting into trouble at the gym you can typically find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me//
