Kim Harrison's Blog, page 120

Happy Easter!

I'm going to need your help . . .

Yesterday I got my first glimpse of what the final version of the HOLLOWS INSIDER is going to look like, and it totally delighted and bedazzled me.  (Seriously, I almost cried into my keyboard.)  I couldn't even look at it objectively for things I wanted to shift and change, because it was like . . . wow.  All that work I put in not knowing if it was going to fly or not . . . and it looks fabulous.  I'm going to look at it again today, but I don't think there will be many tweaks coming from me.

I'm sorry for being such a tease since I don't have anything to show you yet, but be sure to stop back in on Monday.  Remember ages ago when I said I was going to need your help in supplying a few pictures for the world book?  It's about that time.  I need a couple of days to figure out how I want to do this, but if your picture is chosen to be included, (and you sign the release forms) your picture will be part of it.  I'll be running 6-8 separate contests, and the winners will be the ones who look closely at what I'm asking for and supply it.   Winners will also get a full color, signed page from the upcoming graphic novel, BLOOD WORK as well, as sort of a thank you from Guy and myself.  (I'll post them for your perusal as well.)  Monday.  I'm hoping to start this on Monday.

Outside it's still cold, but close inspection has reveled that my ornamental cherry tree is getting ready to bloom.  It's a new plant for me, so I'm eager to see it through an entire growth cycle.  Last year, the chipmunks ate the fruit, and I think that's cool.

Slow

Just saw a big bunny run across my yard.  He was going fast, but the work is going slow.  I'm not happy with my progress yesterday.  I was fighting something, and if I don't figure out what it is, I'll likely be fighting it again today.  But progress was made, and I'm moving forward.  Slowly.  I doubt I'll get to new material today, but there is hope.

Feels empty out there today.

Drop back and punt

If you've been following the drama box, you know I'm in rewrite mode, doing a massive rewrite on the next Hollows book because it just wasn't addressing a few things that cropped up in PALE DEMON.  Yesterday, I went way past the 1/3 mark, almost to the half, not quite.  And as expected, it's time to drop back and take care of a half-dozen tweaks before I push on to the new material.  The emotional responses are not quite ringing true, the points where the reader would say, "Oh, he'd never do that." and "Why are they all ignoring the 2000 pound elephant sitting on the pool table?"

So I'm going to take about 20 minutes this morning (which I got a very late start in) and make a list of the things that are bothering me, and then dive in and fix.

This is where my character spread sheet really comes in handy, as I look at my list, see that I need to have this person say or think this thing, and then go right to the chapters where he/she is, and fit it in the best spot–rather than fumble through an entire manuscript looking for where they are.  (I've got an example of my character spread sheet here.)  It's about the only piece of writing software I use, and I made it up from an Excel spread sheet.

If I'm lucky, I'll start back in on new material tomorrow.

Oh, and the snow is gone, as expected.  There is nothing open or up that can't take the weather, but it was still disgusting.  -laugh-

Not cool.

Okay.  That's just not funny.

. . . still not laughing. . . .

A-a-a-a-and it's Friday!

Congratulations everyone!  We made it to another Friday!  I'm planning out my weekend, even as I stare at the hours of work still on my desk yet to finish before I call it official.  I'll be able to knock off an hour or so earlier than usual thanks to having been woken up before the sun by a dozen athletic young men in running gear hammering on my door.  -grin-  And people wonder where I get my ideas.

Seriously, there is something kind of idea-generating about seeing young men clustered in the shadow light in the dead of the morning when all is quiet, gathering up the last of the group so they can run off and create mayhem.  Okay, in this case, they were simply going to run, but what if they were going to break into the big-bad-ugly's fortress and destroy the dam so that the town's crops wouldn't die from lack of water?  Huh?  What if they had to get across the tundra before the sun melted the glacier?  What if the vampire had gotten back to his lair, and this was the only time they could try to kill him?

Okay, maybe not those ideas, but what I took away from my pre-sun extravaganza was the utter quiet of the morning with its breathless feel of waiting.  The sight of athletic silhouettes shifting in the chill shadow, impatient to be away.  The curious sensation of cold, sunless air hitting my bed-warm skin.  (It feels different.  It really does.)  The feeling of urgency and question that pulled me from my bed.  The doubt in me when I found out my husband hadn't locked himself out but that there was a strange man on my porch, beating on my door.  –  All that I take with me, squirreling it away until needed, be it two hours, or two years from now.  Though it may sound stupid, I know what unwritten story, what unrealized scene those sensations will fit into already.  (Grace, I will return to you someday.)

I spent the next half hour stumbling about in search of tea, glad I wasn't the one that went from rem cycles to pounding the pavement in two minutes flat.  Dude, that is something I don't particularly want to experience firsthand, even if the sensations would be worth gold.  I'll fake those, thank you.

But the sun just came up red, so it's time to get to work.  Looks like I won't be in the garden this weekend.  Red sun in morning, sailor take warning . . . which means there should be rain by the end of the day.  I'll probably bake instead.  Mmmm, I might make pop-tarts . . .  Which are 100 times better than the store-bought ones, but take six hours to make with all the chillin'.

Everybody wins!

Everyone wins ten points today.  Yes, it was Ginger Rodgers who does everything Fred Astaire does, only backward and in high heels.  But to be honest, if you watch them, Fred is moving backward just about as much as Ginger.  -laugh-

It was busy outside my window yesterday.  It's been nice watching everyone get their dogs out again and see who has new puppies and how last year's puppies have grown.  Not everyone has their "street manners" yet, and there's a lot of barking.  Lots of new strollers, too, though I don't watch the babies as much as I do the dogs. (Maybe if they would bark at me, I'd pay attention to them, too.)

I've got a small project I want to do this weekend if the weather holds and we don't get rain.  I need to move the 40 year old hosta plants before we get in and rip the small porch off the side of the house, and I've been debating where to put them.   They would look fabulous in a spot I've been eyeing outside the fence, but then they are not protected against the daily dog washes, so I'm hesitating.  I don't want them just stuck against the house, either.  I'd like to keep them with the eastern exposure they have, and then there is the fence I need to consider, too.  Blahh.  I think I'll stick with trying to do the impossible in my writing.  It's easier.

Backward, and in high heels

Gracefully dancing;

thoughts swirl in sparked synapses

to music one sees.

Introspective this morning?  Me?  Nahhh.  My very first Haiku.  The season it's set in would be spring, a rebirth of thought from the roots of the old, but that is hard to figure out since it's about nothing you can touch.  Yup, I'm in rewrite mode, and the brain is firing in odd ways.

I got through chapter four yesterday, and Rachel's first day is just about to wind down.  The major plot is set (chapter one) new people are introduced, (chapter one and two) and the complications are starting to appear. (chapter three and four.)  Today I'm going back to my laundry list that I made yesterday, (again) and seeing what I need to tweak in order to start addressing them.  I tried yesterday, and only got the easy stuff.  Must get serious about it now.

I've already considered three options to one of the biggies on my list and thrown them out this morning, deciding I need to drop back all the way back down to chapter one and add a missed phone call, and then a brief visual in chapter two or three, so that when he shows up in chapter four to actually say something, it makes sense.  Not a big change paper wise, maybe a page or two, but big change in the story.

And so it begins . . .

 

P.S.  Ten points if you know what " joke" the punch line in the title of today's post goes to.

 

 

Not so bad . . .

First day of the massive rewrite went not so bad.  I've been thinking about it for about a week, but yesterday was the first time I wrote out my goals in a clear, concise list.  I'm not normally a "list" person, but in this instance, lists work well for me, keeping me focused on what I'm trying to do, a constant reminder I go back to daily.

I managed to push through two chapters, mostly because I was able to drop back to my very first rough draft, which turned out to be a better plot line than I thought it was going to be.  Good thing I saved it.  (grin)  Today, I'm going to go over the two chapters one more time after I look at my list to see what I can at least touch upon, if not actually start to talk about.  This is how I get some of my foreshadowing in place–a careful, slow, back-and-forth weaving of about six different ideas into an already established plot line.  It takes time, but it's not tedious because it is very different writing technique from my push-on-quickly, never-look-back rough draft writing style.

Outside, it's still quite chill, though I did walk downtown for lunch, enjoying everyone else's yard with the bulbs coming up.  This is a 1st year Trillium, planted from a home improvement's wildflower end cap display this last fall.  I've got about six Trilliums total in the ground here, and I'm so excited to see them.  The picture of Trilliums a few days ago is from a root that is about fifteen years old.

Oh!  And Mr. Frog at the bird bath/water puddle made it.  Yay!

A vacation from my vacation

Holy cow, I've never worked so hard in . . . well . . . okay.  Maybe I've worked that hard, but dude, I worked hard this last week while on "vacation."  It was Thing Two's spring break, so we took a week to muck the leaves out of the SC house.  The one in the woods?  Yeah.  There were a lot of leaves, and thanks to a bit of work that cropped up Friday afternoon that had to be done now, I lost two days in the yard.  (three 10 hour days at the keyboard gave me four days in the yard, but one of the days in the office was rainy, and one was in the car, so I only really lost one yard day.  At least, that's how I'm justifying it.  Sigh)

But now, the ms is shipped off and the yard is beautiful–and I am again amazed at the state of spring in comparing there and here.  No leaves here, the trilliums and crocus and daffs just came up.  There are new leaves there, with trilliums in bloom, crocus and daffs done, and red buds just ending.  Amazing what 800 miles will do to a season.  While working, I saw deer, a black spotted salamander, anoles, blue-lined skinks, assorted birds, and two green tree frogs.  Oh!  And fireflies.  In April?!  Guy saw six young Copperheads.  (Go figure. I'm the one playing in the leaves, and he spends three minutes in the woods planting a tree, and he finds a nest of Copperheads.)

So Guy and I did the 12 hr stint in the car back in 11.5 hours by cutting out one of our usual breaks, and we got home in daylight, which was good.  We had our droopy ceiling fixed while we were out, and took a secondary door out of the master bedroom while we were at it.   (The house had been used as an apartment, and we are still taking out the remuddling to put it back to a single-family home.)  They cleaned up a lot of the drywall dust, but I still had to spend about an hour cleaning my work space and a few key places so I could get up and function without battling the dust this morning.  The work looks great, though, and I'm glad I wasn't here to see it.  From the inside, you'd never know there was once a door.  Next step–take off the tiny porch and put a new one in where it belongs.

But today is not for remodeling or mucking out leaves.  Today I feel like it's the first day of summer vacation, with months and months of glorious time spreading out before me waiting for me to fill it with a lovely pattern of rewrite and rough draft.  I love rewrites, where the story is already in place and it's time to see what happens if you missed the bus and met a different person that day.  Mmmmmm, I'm really looking forward to it.  This is why I got into writing.  I love the PR stuff and I wouldn't miss it for anything.  I adore seeing new opportunities evolve and the chance for me to take part in my publisher's marketing that forces me out of my comfort zone and into the spotlight where I've learned to flirt and be charming.  (snerk)  But I started writing to write, to see words and characters evolve, to see a plan come together, to immerse myself in the "what if."  And when I've got a chunk of time to devote to it, it's like vacation.  It's what I like to do.  Really really.  So . . . on to it!  I've got so much to do until I can call this done and hit my easy button.  It's going to be a whole new story when I'm done with it.  :-)