Ardyth DeBruyn's Blog, page 4
October 21, 2013
The Writing Life: A rant on teen angst
Cut out the whining, Korra, please!
Yesterday I had a very good time watching the latest two episodes of “The Legend of Korra,” which was a bit depressing, because these last two episodes were a flashback to a completely different set of past characters–and so much better than the current characters. I think it mostly comes down to the fact that Korra as a character has pretty much turned into Anakin Skywalker, whining about how life’s no fair, no one lets her do anything despite having massive glowy powers. She has succumbed to the disease of overdone teen angst, one of my least favorite writing mistakes.
Master of angst, no one can be quite so annoying as Annie here.
On the other hand, the flashback to the first avatar these last two episodes showed a decisive, if flawed character, who took his hardships in life from starving and injustice, to banishment, as a challenge. He makes Korra look like the spoiled brat she is this season (and somewhat last season), and highlights one of my biggest problems with the current YA genre. Who do people think whiny angsty main characters are what teenagers want to read about?
I get the impression that people feel like because as adults they find their teenagers whiny about subjects like life being no fair, not getting allowed to do stuff, and people holding them back, that they will relate to characters who do this. That idea is stupid. I recall being a teenager (it wasn’t so long ago) and have siblings who still are. Neither I nor they ever cared for whiny people, even if we might have had a sulky bout ourselves once in a while. People do this constantly like Anakin Skywalker, Harry Potter in book 5, and now Korra are really really really annoying. You want to slap them, but don’t, grit your teeth and remind yourself high school eventually will end and you won’t be trapped with such people.
Someone needs to take the CAPSLOCK key off Harry book 5!
If a YA character must angst, give me a real reason for that angst. People dying, the world ending, important stuff. Yes, if something horrible happens, we want to see emotion, but that doesn’t mean whining. Most teenagers are not actually whiny people, in fact, the only people they whine at, are their parents, and that’s a natural process of wanting to separate from home. This part of the process is painful on both sides and not entertaining, and not the best way to write fiction. Instead, show a young, heroic, well-meaning but flawed character, who works hard and has a strong set of values. Have a main character with strong opinions that sometimes clash with the strong opinions of their parents or teachers, but stand up for themselves in honest discussion over those opinions and try to express themselves in an authentic way. Most teenagers could also fit this description and would find a heck of a lot more to relate to in a character like that.
Someone you might enjoy an actual conversation with and not want to smack.
In the meantime, I’m going to keep watching Korra since there’s lots of good stuff about the show and the character and hope against hope someone in production will put an end to the angsting and let her be likable.
October 16, 2013
Willamette Valley: Riverfront Park
As I’ve been settling into Salem, I’ve been looking for a decent place to walk. After trying one near my husband’s work, I found it a bit marshy and muddy, since the path isn’t paved, or even well defined in places. So, I’ve switched and for the moment have settled on the popular, but reasonably nice Riverfront Park. It’s a busy park, one that usually has a large amount of people, but it also has nice paved paths along the Willamette river, which is good this time of year. Even better, since I last lived here, they’ve added a pedestrian/bike bridge over the Willamette that connects with Wallace Marine Park in West Salem. It’s the bridge that helps outweigh the popularity of the park, although I’ve yet to find a park that isn’t fairly busy when the weather is decent in Salem, even the muddy one (lost of people fish there).
Three bridges cross the river in downtown Salem, two one way bridges on 22, that have a relatively unpleasant yet effective sidewalk, and this third bridge, which was up until a few years ago, a railroad bridge. Apparently when the rail line was no longer used, the city acquired it to make it into a hiking/biking trail. In my opinion, it’s the nicest of the bridges (although the arches in the pillars of the older highway bridge are pretty. The former railroad bridge used to lift, so it still has the towers that once controlled it, even if now it’s paved over with a nice wide path. There’s plenty of room to stop and gawk at the nice view of the river in either direction without worrying about getting in anyone’s way, as well as a couple of places made for viewing, which I assume were for people to get out of the way of the trains originally.
Wallace Marine Park in west Salem has also been redone since I’ve last been in the area, with a further path going north along the river bank, with places to go out and down to the river. The Willamette is even looking slightly less disgusting in general (I haven’t seen any raw sewage in it lately) but I still would not swim in it unless it was a life or death situation. Still from up on the bridge or the safety of the bank, the river is pretty enough.
Apparently eventually they plan to build another bridge on the other side of the part connecting to Minto Island, which will be nice. I have yet to go try to walk there, because it’s a little further out of my way, but I vaguely recall it also had a number of paved paths, so I might try it out here and see if it’s less busy than Riverfront. I will look forward to when it’s connected though, even with increased traffic, because it’ll make it more convenient for me.
At least I’m finally getting back into a daily walk. Always a good thing. Remember, sitting too much will kill you! And I have too many novels I want to write to let that happen.
October 7, 2013
Moving–online this time
Bear with me. I had to change web providers, and so I’m still getting the site back in order. Things should be looking more normal soon. Thanks for your patience!
On the bright side, most of the blog has made it (other than my custom theme) so you can still access old posts. I’m hoping over the next few days I’ll get all the pictures moved, the theme either back or a new one that’s tasteful, and some new posts up.
September 30, 2013
From the Dreaded One’s Desk: The Slough of Despair
“Um, Your Most Dreaded Evilness!” A minion poked its head around the edge of the Dreaded One’s evil lair.
“Go away I’m busy.” The Dreaded One was hard at work winning solitaire… or well, she thought she was winning, but suddenly it was looking suspiciously like losing. Letting out a huff of frustration, the Dreaded One tried to rearrange the cards.
“But this is significant.”
“I’m writing.” Or thinking about writing anyway, while… unwinding a little between sentences, right? It was close enough.
“Well, the minions have taken a poll, and we’ve decided to rename the castle as officially “The Slough of Despair.”
The Dreaded One looked over the top of the screen. The minion was squeezed between the empty bookcase, a stack of laundry on the floor, and some past lunch containers that probably smelled quite evil if opened. “Say what?” It was evil alright, as a name, but something… seemed amiss.
“Well, see we’re on the last clean fork.” The minion held it up, then quickly brushed a crumb off of it. “Erm, mostly clean fork. We’ve three minions in the bedroom in the sea of clothing, we’re not sure if it’s clean or dirty, and another six in the kitchen, never mind it’s the smallest room in the house. The minion who last walked in the upstairs bathroom fainted at the sight of the dirty toilet, and we have no idea what’s in the back bedroom… no one who has gone up there has ever returns. So, we’ve decided it’s appropriate.”
“I’m an artist.” The Dreaded One waved a hand. “I’m too busy being creative for housework.”
“That may be, but we’ve… well, we’re all quitting. You’ll have the Slough of Despair all to yourself from now on.”
“What!” The Dreaded One jumped up and immediately regretted it, forced to catch two dirty teapots before they smashed onto a pile of clothing, and let the laundry pile soak up the half-cup of tea from yesterday. Extra puzzle pieces showered down everywhere. “I am the Most Dreaded Evil one! I am above housework! Besides, I did dishes yesterday, and I swear I did laundry already last week. How can it be time to do it again?”
The minion slipped back around some grocery bags of un-put-away groceries. The Dreaded Author glared but didn’t dare spring forward in the clutter for fear of breaking something irreplaceable.
“Sorry Your Evilness. But we can only take so much.” The minion disappeared.
With a growl, the Dreaded Author looked around the room. Alright, so since the move things had gotten a little messy. But Slough of Despair? “I’m too evil to despair. Characters!” the Dreaded Author bellowed. “I’m hungry! Make me some dinner.”
A villainous face of a character peeked over the couch. “Not in my job description.”
The virtuous hero looked up broadly from polishing his sword. “I’m busing saving the world.”
“I’m a liberated woman,” the feisty girl character said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Cook it yourself!”
“I’ll do!” the clumsy side-kick offered, jumping up and knocking over the Dreaded Author’s prize handmade sculpture from college.
The Dreaded Author threw herself forward catching it. “No! Not you. You’ll break all my dishes. The rest of you, go cook now or your deaths will be long and torturous.”
“Oh good, I’ve been waiting for a fight.” The hero stood up waving his sword. “I’m so sick of you playing solitaire instead of writing my scenes. Let the battle begin!”
“That’s right, you’re going to have to make me,” the fiest girl said, drawing a knife.
“I bet I can make your death torturous first, or at least your words for the day,” the villain promised.
“Muahahahaha!” Minimizing the solitaire, the Dreaded Author wrote up a storm. Characters evaporated in a cloud of tortuous screams. Only about 2k in, the dreaded stomach interrupted.
Excuse me, it whined, knocking on the Dreaded Brain. I’m hungry.
Go away. I’m writing.
I’m starving!
“Fiiiiiiiiine.” Disgusted the Dreaded One got up, watching her step through, fine, what was looking very much like a Slough of Despair, through the livingroom and dinning room to reach the Pit of Eternal Filth—the kitchen. Eyeing stacks of encrusted dishes, the Dreaded Author eased open the fridge, sniffed the packed rows of… things in various stages of decay and shut it. It looked like “housework” was going to be on the menu.
“Noooooooooo!”
They say, if you stand on the borders of the Slough of Despair and listen hard, you can hear the cries of the Dreaded Author in the distance.
September 23, 2013
Take the Autumn Train Blog Hop
This week I’m participating in the Wild Child Publishing event:
Do you have a favorite fall memory linked to a train? What do you imagine you would see if you were riding a train in the fall? Join the authors of Wild Child publishing and Freyas Bower as we Take an Autumn Train Ride through our blogs.
Prizes will include
Four $50 gift certificates (two for Wild Child and two Freya’s Bower)
An awesome swag package that includes:
Bookmarks
Books
Wild Child T-shirt and mug
Wild Child and Freya’s Bower bags
Four handmade, crochet coasters by Kit Wylde
An autographed copy of Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire
A rare DVD copy of the Matheson/Furst classic “Up The Creek” (lovingly used)
One ebook copy of Nita Wick’s short story, The Dream (previously published as part of a Freya’s Bower anthology.)
Book trading cards
Signed Dangerous Waters poster
of “Battle for Blood: The Blood Feud”
winner’s name as a character in Kissa Starling’s next sweet romance story.
A Yankee Candle
more…
A Brief Autumn Commentary by the Dreaded Author on Trains
I suppose I’m like a lot of people, and really enjoy watching or hearing trains. The trains in the Columbia River Gorge in particular have always drawn me. In part because of the many stories my father has of taking the train to Oregon every summer to visit his grandparents. They’d leave as soon as school got out, and return just before it began again and he found those summers wondrous, including the trains. So the year in Hood River I was excited to live on such a major shipping route. I used to stop on my walks along Starvation Creek trail and watch the train through the leaves when it passed by. I tried to take some pictures, but I never could get a good shot of them.
There is a sort of musical quality to the train whistle but it’s a diminished questioning sort of chord that leaves a person hanging. I suppose that’s part of it’s magic. Although as my mother said, the question it’s really asking is, will you get hit by the train or not? Still, it’s sort of romantic and symbolic, and so, as Paul Simon says, “Everyone loves the sound of a train in the distance.”
However, since moving to Salem, I’ve discovered they can be quite rude up close. Now, I was aware that Salem, like Hood River was on a major shipping route. Last time we’d lived here, we’d heard plenty of trains, especially on warm nights with the windows open. Those fall evenings just warm enough you can still have the window open and enjoy the breeze while all wrapped up in a polar fleece drinking tea.
Well, I got a wake up call, literally. At three am or so, I was startled away by a noise that was anything but distant. “Errrrr! Errrrr!” Like a foghorn in my backyard. The train wasn’t in the distance, it was in my bedroom. Too startled to do anything else other than roll over and go back to sleepy, I vaguely thought of that twilight zone where the ghost train smashes through the grandfather’s bedroom at the end, wrecking the house.
These Salem trains are out to get me. It’s a plot. I’m surrounded. I didn’t think I was really any closer to the tracks than the last time we lived here, but either 1) I am or 2) the wind blows just right (or wrong depending on your point of view) or 3) trains are a lot ruder than they used to be. Unlike the good old days where trains stayed questioning in the distance begging us to consider things could be better, they’re honking loudly in my window, telling me to get a move on it.
I’d better get going, because I think the question they’re asking is will that next novel of mine get done or will it get hit by a train.
Ardyth DeBruyn
My Wild Child book suitable for ages 9 and up in reading level, although you could probably read it aloud to a younger kid just fine:
Reina’s brother Austyn has been declared the Child Warrior, but he’s only six. What’s a big sister to do?
Allowed to accompany her brother, Reina discovers they’re in deeper trouble than she thought-the Gold Wizard isn’t shaping up to be the guide he’s supposed to be and the Red Wizard’s harpies and snakewolves are on their trail. If anyone’s going to find a way to track down the elusive Sword of Chivalry for Austyn and get him into the Red Wizard’s castle to fulfill whatever it is the obscure prophecy insists must be done, it’s got to be Reina.
Read an excerpt.
E-book available at Wild Child Publishing, Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Print Edition available at CreateSpace and Amazon.
Please visit these sites for more chances to win, the more you visit the more chances you have to win. We have 46 participating authors. You can stop at as many or as little blogs as you wish. At each stop, you will find either two chances to enter per blog to win some awesome prizes. If you visit all, that’s 92 chances to win! There will be five, lucky winners.
Take the Blog Train and Visit These Blogs for more chances to win
Judith Leger, Fantasy and Comtemporary Romance Author
The Fictional World of Jaime Samms
Follow Where the Path will Take You
The Wandering Mind of Lizzy P. Bellows
Cassie Exline — Mystery and Romance
Thanks everyone!
September 16, 2013
The Dark Crystal: Creation Myths
I don’t usually read graphic novels. This is not for any prejudice against them in particular, it’s simply that I didn’t grow up with many comic books around the house. The only ones my parents had were a couple of “Far Side” collections. I think my mother simply found a lot of the graphics annoying. When visiting family friends, I really got into their “Rupert” graphic novels (or was it Reuben?), which she always complained were hideous, and how she couldn’t stand a bear with human hands. They had a few “Tin Tin” graphic novels as well which she thought equally repulsive.
Thus, since I simply didn’t have access to them when I was young, and they never occur to me as an adult. I’m used to imagining things in my head when reading a book and zipping through the text. While now and then I’ve thought things like, “It might be amusing to read the ‘Ender’s Game’ comic book,” I’ve never been serious enough about it to go purchase one.
So, when I decided to check out the Dark Crystal’s Author Quest, and discovered the only material besides the movie out there were graphic novels I was initially disappointed. Fortunately, my public library had two volumes of the “Dark Crystal Creation Myths” in their collection and I checked them out. I’ve ended up really enjoying them.
For one thing, the art is lovely, if a bit creepy, which is appropriate considering that’s the same vibe the classic movie has. While they’re slower reading than a regular novel for, the art was splendid. What surprised me most was that it allowed me to actually like reading creation myths, which tend to bore me. Usually I want to get on with the real story instead. Or, if I’m going to read folktales I prefer actual ethnographic ones to made-up fantasy ones. As a genre, creation myths tend to be abysmally boring.
However, when lovely illustrated, I’ve discovered I don’t mind them. The actual “creation” part is also only the first section of the first book. I was able to connect with the mischievous Raunip who reminded me of my trolls, and the sad gelfling Gyr, a bard marred by a tragic song. The world of the movie always seemed a bit confusing (who were these strange creatures that go split into two) and the books do a good job of showing the reasons for the split. I found the whole thing enjoyable and well-done.
I am seeing if any of the other nearby libraries have the rest of the graphic novels and will perhaps try this format more often. I can certainly recommend them for anyone who likes either graphic novels, the Dark Crystal, or mythic storytelling. They might be a bit dark for the younger crowd, but if the kid has seen the movie without being terrified, the books are entirely appropriate.
September 2, 2013
The Writing Life: Story Puzzles
I rather enjoy puzzles. I like them a bit of a challenge, but not too challenging. 500 to 750 pieces is about right, usually brightly colored with lots of interesting things going on in the picture. There’s a satisfaction to fitting each piece exactly where it goes. To seeing the picture slowly come to life. To picking up each piece and looking at the juicy bright colors, the hint of the picture, to wonder exactly where it goes or what it is, and see how as soon as it goes in its place, the lines and colors expand to have a new meaning in the context of the pieces around it.
But sometimes I end up with a puzzle that’s harder than I like. Usually this happens because I shop for all my puzzles second hand (who wants to pay ten bucks for a puzzle when you can get it for one dollar or so at a second hand store). Which means I’m far more interested in finding pictures I like than paying attention to other details like the size of the puzzle. While I know 1000 piece puzzles (especially in limited colors) try my patience, I end up falling in love with the picture as something I just really have to try. Dragon puzzles are especially bad for hooking me like this. I am not sure why all dragon puzzles seem to have to be in the 1000 piece range.
So, I start out hopeful, thinking, perhaps this won’t be so bad. It is a very splendid dragon, after all. And at some point am reduced to the frustrating and tedious process of filling in large areas of indeterminate color completely by shape. Which means trying a piece in ever possible opening until it either fits or gets set aside for later, once the edges are more filled in. It’s long and frustrating and means the puzzle ends up taking weeks instead of a day or two. I get bored and have to do it in short bursts. And I mutter to myself about if the dragon is really worth it. I enjoy the sense of accomplishment when I finish it, but still!
Usually by the time I see yet another dragon puzzle though I’ve forgotten all about this and just have to get it. Sigh. And it happens all over again.
My novels though, bear a striking resemblance to puzzles. There’s a lot of pieces, they’re supposed to fit together into a coherent whole. Some of those pieces are delightful and interesting, some of them indeterminate and difficult to place.
Unfortunately my current novel feels more like an 1000 piece puzzle, or maybe a 1500 or 2000 piece one. And worse, unlike a puzzle, there’s more than one way to put a novel together, it’s just a lot of those ways are bad. I suspect on most of my books I don’t wait for all those pieces to fit perfectly together, instead I cram them into fitting, particularly all those pieces of sky and background, because they’re too boring to get just right.
Except this novel, it’s one of those magnificent dragon puzzles, I think. I think it has a picture that’s breathtaking, if only I can get it together. And so I’m reduced to trying each piece, blindly by shape, to see if it fits. Taking each scene and writing it, rewriting it, rewriting it again. I think I will have written at least 250,000 words for a 75,000 word book by the end of it, maybe more. But this is one puzzle, I really want to get right.
August 19, 2013
Exploring the Willamette Valley: Covered Bridges
While the Willamette Valley is not the Columbia River Gorge, it’s a bit unfair to make that comparison. Really, the gorge is stunning on a global scale, while the Willamette Valley is more of a plain nice. I’ve always liked it and found the Western Oregon countryside pretty and only been a bit disappointed by it lately because of my recent move from the gorge, so I was excited when my parents and aunt invited me along on a covered bridge tour across the mid-Willamette Valley in the Stayton/Albany/Corvallis/Monmouth area. There are also a number of nice bridges down by Eugene/Cottage Grove, but my parents did those last fall and were using my aunt’s visit as a good excuse to find some new bridges they hadn’t seen yet.
Now, while I recall a “Covered Bridge Festival” in Stayton when I worked there about 5 or 6 years ago, I’d never really paid much attention to them before. My father though, gained an interest in them after reading an article in the paper about Oregon bridges and when and how they were built. I’d heard from both my parents that finding the bridges was quite enjoyable, and I found my experience with them was indeed terrific.
First, it’s a bit fun to look up the bridges, where they’re located and when they’re built. Then you have to find them, which takes some doing. The directions online are not always the best. We found 6 out of 8 bridges on our trip. One we decided we didn’t have time for and one simply wasn’t where the directions claimed it would be. The hunt was a lot of fun, and it was good I knew one of the bridges from living in Corvallis, because the directions were incorrect for that one too.
While driving to the bridges, you also see a lot of really nice countryside. The day we’d picked was a lovely summer day. It got hot in the mid-afternoon, but other than that it was perfect. Then, the bridges themselves have a rather spiritual quality to them. The best ones are the ones that have been moved off the main road, because you can walk through them. They frame the water of the small rivers they go over in so many beautiful ways. They sort of combine a house, a road, and a church all together in one. I had many lovely moments—seeing a crayfish swimming when looking down through the bridge slats, butterflies on the reeds along the bank, climbing a train bridge next to the covered bridge for a better look at one that’s along a road. I’ve arranged to join my parents next fall as they take a third trip to find yet more bridges. I can’t wait. It’ll help me start to explore the mid-valley more and find good places to walk and get out in nature.
And the gorge is still waiting for me. I plan to drive out there this week and soak up as much of it as possible in a brief visit with my writing group in Hood River.
August 12, 2013
Sylvania: Unnatural Disaster Strikes Again
Outpost House Set Up Only to be Decimated
This weekend a small section of Sylvania was removed from storage and set up in a house acquired during the move. A few select residents were hopeful their friends and family would soon join them only to be shocked when a young child arrived to play with them. Total chaos ensued as residents were stripped of their clothing and forced into outfits that didn’t fit them. Furniture was scattered everywhere and left in a pile on the floor and non-resident troll dolls were mixed interchangeably with Sylvanian residents.
“Whatever Toy Story promotes, getting played with is not something I’ve 
missed,” Grandmother Gray Rabbit complained. ”I do not equate scratches, scrapes, and nakedness with love.” ”My custom clothing was destroyed,” bemoaned Mr. Brown Rabbit. ”These were carefully handmade items that are irreplaceable. I demand compensation.” Plans to sew new outfits are in motion, but residents fear this is far too little too late. ”I don’t expect anything that equals what I’ve lost,” Mr. Brown Rabbit explained. ”Especially my felt black hat.”
Not all residents were discouraged. Young Bill Gray Bear shrugged off the loss of his over stretched vest and broken overalls. ”My stuff was really lousy. I was on the list for new clothes anyway. And I had fun playing.”
Prejudice Investigated in Play Terror Incident
Mrs. Maple Town Raccoon in the wake of the child’s departure has filed a discrimination suit against the owner of Sylvania. ”While Maple Town residents make up a small section of the population of Slyvania, my two daughters, Matthias Mouse, and I were picked out of all of Sylvania, along with Mrs. Cat, of another brand, while only four actual Sylvanians were thrown into this situation. Obviously the owner cared less what happened to us than to other residents. This is not a privileged but a crime!”
“All four of us have been deeply scarred and scraped over the years, myself in particular,” Grandmother Gray Rabbit added. ”No new or previously before unplayed with residents were subjected to this indignity! There is definitely a biased against those of us who have already been abused.”
No comment was available from the owner.
Trolls Speak Up
Four classic troll dolls and Simba from the “Lion King” were also given temporary residence in the house and joined in the play-tastrophie. However, they had a very different view on the matter. ”I was always a collector’s item,” Mama Troll said. ”Being played with his an honor and we all had a blast.” ”We just love having our clothing taken on and off. It’s made to be taken on and off,” chorused the Pink and Purple Troll twins. ”I think the Sylvania’s are making this into a far bigger deal than it is,” offered Paddy Troll. ”It’s all very well for him,” responded Mr. Brown Rabbit. ”His shoes are permanently attached!”
When asked to comment on the whole situation, Simba’s only thought on the matter was, “I just can’t wait to be king.”
August 6, 2013
Batik, Camp Win, and African Violets
I’ve been so busy moving, I haven’t blogged about much else in a while, so here’s a quick news update on other things happening to me:
Batik and Prayer Flags
I had a great time at the Summer Conference last week. In between Dr. Fagerberg’s great lecture on the liturgy and Fr. Jeremy’s stories about the 2012 synod (which he pronounces sin-id) I took an art class to give my brain a break–batik fabric dying.
Batik, for anyone not familiar with it, is a process of dripping wax on cloth, then dying it in different colors. It’s sort of a cross between Ukrainian Easter Eggs and Tie-dye. I did it last year at the conference, a Holy Spirit dove that worked out pretty well, and Ina (the teacher of the course) and I talked about how all the designs hanging up looked like prayer flags. This led to a discussion about actually making prayer flags with batik, something I had planned ahead of time to do this year.
Traditional prayer flags feature five animals, the windhorse, the dragon, the snowlion, the tiger, and the garuda (a bird-like creature). The windhorse is usually put in the center of each flag, a symbol of the wind that blows through the flags and carries the prayers out across the earth. The four other animals (the Four Dignities) each represent a different element and aspect of the earth. For my Christian prayer flag, I picked the Holy Spirit, and the Four Evangelists, traditionally represented by the four beast from Ezekiel’s apocalyptic vision: the winged man (Matthew), the winged lion (Mark), the winged ox (Luke), and the eagle (John).
To simplify, I made one flag for each animal and went with the colors and dyes available instead of trying the traditional colors. Someday I may try something that echoes a traditional prayer flag more directly–with prayers and all five animals on each color, perhaps with a wood-block print, but I’m relatively pleased with the batik results anyway.
Camp Nano Success
Just prior to leaving I was writing madly, since my Hood River writing group had talked me into Camp Nanowrimo. I successfully finished the day before the conference. I have a working draft of “Home Schooled-Villainy” a short story that takes place between books one and two of “Dark Lord Academy” and went over the first four chapters of book two, restructuring it. I hope to get a working draft of the novel by the end of this month. I know people are waiting on me. I feel pretty positive about the content I got during the month though. It’s a strong start even if I need a lot of revisions.
My New Hobby
When I was little my great grandmother had a row of African Violets in several colors on her windowsill. She was always very particular to put the awning down (I love that word–awning) to protect them from direct sunlight. Mostly I think about it because A few years ago, I noticed my mother had a fair amount of success getting her one African Violet to bloom. After teasing her about it being an old person’s pastime, she explained she’d discovered African Violet food and that they were relatively easy to care for.
After that, I just had to try one on my own. Not only did the one flower I bought bloom several times, but I successfully grew a new plant from one of the leaves (although it hasn’t flowered yet) and the original one split into three. So now I have four pink violets, and when they bloom, I might give a couple of them away. But it started me wanting more colors!
Full sized plants in bloom range about $4-6 locally, with Fred Myers plants being the healthiest and largest at the cheapest price. However, some stores discount plants when they finish blooming to 50% off, so now I’ve acquired some discounts, with Lowe’s being the best deal, followed by Wal-mart. I’m not sure what colors some of them will be, but I’m looking forward finding out.
Don’t worry though. I haven’t forgotten Sylvania. The move has just postponed getting any of it out again. I will manage an update hopefully by the fall on them.
