I’ve got a few blog rules that I hold everything up to before I make a blog post public, the first of which is don’t blog drunk. This one hasn’t been hard for me, because unlike a lot of writers who relax and find inspiration in the slow sipping of a good wine at their desk, I find it only puts me to sleep, and my dream-spawned ideas are sloppy and full of holes.
My second rule is don’t blog angry, because, really, who wants to hear that crap?
My third rule, which is why I’ve been so quiet lately, is don’t blog when you’re not feeling well, because even though it’s nice to get the “feel better soon” notices, I feel obligated to respond like I normally do, and then I’m even more tired and stressed.
Stress would also explain the piles of paper sitting about my desk the past week as I try to decide what to focus on. I’ve got half a manuscript I can adapt and add to, or a new idea. Both are in the same world, but one starts this way, one the other, and deciding has left me three-days paralyzed.
See, I know how hard it is going to be to create another book, and I can’t bring myself together enough to do it quite yet. I can even tell you why. With audio-visual aids even.
This is a three-minute interview that I believe that Jo-Beth in Cincinnati made happen.
(I can’t imbed it, but to see it, just follow this link.) I love working with professionals who need nothing more than thirty seconds of reading the back flap and perhaps a moment or two with you to be able to ask the right question to open the door to a fast conversation designed to intrigue the listener. This is one of the better ones I’ve done, but I find myself smiling as I watch it, because she is desperately trying to lead me to talk about the sparkle-shine outside of the book, which is of course the fact that Peri Reed can replay a small section of time. The sparkle-shine is what attracts the TV people, because it’s easy to sell and the writers get to make up more outlandish things as they go along.
And there I am, trying to convince her the book isn’t about the sparkle-shine, but that it’s a story of a woman losing everything she sacrificed for, and how she finds her new normal.
Oh, you can read it and enjoy it on the level of sparkle-shine. Heck, that’s why I put the deeper stuff hidden behind it. I like sparkle-shine, adore it. And if you see the deeper story of Peri’s personal struggle, it connects a little more.
But you know what? That’s not what Peri Reed is about at all, either. Nope. The Drafter is my commentary on Alzheimer’s disease and those afflicted with it, being erased day by day, and their heavy dependency on first their intuition and patterns to hide the breaks, and their eventual and utter dependency upon those they loved to keep them to the person they were. That’s what Peri Reed is about, Charlie Brown.
I don’t expect everyone to see that. As I said, there are layers, and you can enjoy it at whatever layer you need to be at that day. I do however, hope people feel it. Maybe look past the sparkle-shine.
I’m going to be going silent here at the blog for a while, though keep an eye on FB for contests, interviews, and flash-sales. If you would like to know when I pick up the blog again, drop your email into my newsletter box, and I’ll shoot you a notice when I feel like being chatty about “butterflies and zebras, moonbeams, and fairytales” again. (Ten points if you know the song reference.)
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I always intended to read it; it's been on my to-read list since I first heard about it. However, the question was when - so many books, so little time...
The "sparkle-shine" stuff I find vaguely interesting, but not quite enough to make me drop everything. However, the deeper stuff you mention does the job.
And I agree about not blogging drunk or angry! It's like any other conversation: if you're not in control, you'll likely say something you regret later. And at least in a drunken verbal conversation you can hope that your listeners will be just as drunk and therefore won't remember - on the internet, the whole world can see it, and the internet (almost) never forgets!