Ian’s question

I opened the door to questions yesterday, expecting a flood and receiving a trickle (not really, expected the trickle, thanks for not letting me down ). Ian came through for me as usual, being the first querent and therefore the first answered. He asks,

I want to know if you had to write something in a different genre from your preferred genre, what would it be and why? (I’m a closet Westerns fan)

Well, that’s hard to answer. It’s been years since I tried writing anything besides fantasy, and my attempts at other things weren’t exactly successful. I won 1st Honorable Mention in a major OK contest a long time ago for a confession story, but it never sold. But I guess this is supposed about what I would write if I couldn’t write fantasy, right? My second choice?

It sure as hell wouldn’t be confession stories. Wasn’t for me. Ditto on westerns. Cozy mystery…blech. I used to like heaving-bosom lit but not anymore, so romance is out. Too squeamish for horror. Although I don’t read those genres, I don’t mind a story set in the Old West, or love scenes, or violence. I just like them with a crazy twist, and that usually means fantasy.

My interests have changed since I first started writing for real about ten years ago. (Yikes, has it been that long?) Now I read a whole lot more literary fiction, crossing over into what they call mainstream fiction. So that might be something I’d write. However, I also love spiritual books, inspirational books, books that help me empower myself and find my place in the world. I’m also interested in the environment and clean living. In fact, I think I have a lot to say about those subjects, and it’s not up to me to judge whether other people care what I have to say. In all genres of writing, you have to put yourself out there and see how you’re received. So I think I could really get into non-fiction, a self-help book or maybe inspirational memoir geared toward young girls, or maybe an environmental expose–something that empowers and informs people.

So the short answer after all that soul-searching is if I couldn’t write fantasy, I’d write non-fiction. What a surprise. I’ve never seriously considered it before, but now it seems like a really good idea. Thanks for the prod, Ian. We’ll see how that manifests in the future.

What about you guys? Have you ever considered changing genres? Or do you love writing everything?

Tomorrow’s question: If you could choose to live in the ascent or descent of a civilization? Which would you choose and why?

Ask me anything–I’ll answer

Again I’m at the point where real life is more interesting and busy than my digital one. I’ve neglected Facebook over Twitter, yet I haven’t disconnected the link between the two, so it looks like I’m updating Facebook all the time. I don’t mind except I miss FB comments and look like a douchebag. (I know the word “douchebag” doesn’t usually apply to ladies, but I do love it so!) So I guess I should do a run-down of the low-down. Here’s what I’ve been up to in a numbered list, so in your comments you can merely reference the number of the topic. You’re welcome.

1. I typed so much on my beautiful new/ancient typewriter that my bad finger refused to type anymore. Back to pecking the keyboard with my patented left hand/right index finger technique, and only when absolutely necessary. (yes, this is necessary.)
2. I’m about halfway through Brian D’Amato’s (you say D’Amayto, I say D’Amahto) In the Courts of the Sun, about a modern Maya guy who travels back in time to save us from whatever disaster 12-21-12 has in store. The subject matter is way dense, but it’s something which has always fascinated me, and the language is just light enough to keep me afloat. And I do mean just. Even the lightness is dense at times, if that makes any sense. But overall I like it.
3. Ummm, let’s see…Oh yeah, speaking of dense, I spent two whole days cleaning all the viruses off my mom’s laptop. (It wasn’t her fault, btw.) She hasn’t been able to use it for months, so she said if I could get it working I could use it, because…
4. An editor expressed interest in Black Veil Angel but wants to see a 15-20 page synopsis, so I had to get crackin’ on that. I started writing by hand, thought of switching to the typewriter, but since I want to get it done a.s.a.p. I’d prefer to put it right into Word.
5. Which reminds me, I have to get that installed on here somehow…
6. I’m back to weaning myself off processed foods and sugar. It’s not so scary the fifth time you do it. I’m convinced that reducing the toxins I take in with my food will help my body process the toxins I take in through the environment. I can control the former, but not the latter. Join me.

That’s not all I have to talk about, but I have to save my finger. I’m going to steal an idea from Ian’s blog and let you ask me questions for a future post. Anything you want to know, about writing or politics or my personal life? How about if I make it interesting and say that I will anwer any question you throw at me. Dare I promise that? Sure, why not? I’ll answer anything. Might not be he answer you want, though…

DO YOU HEAR ME WRITING?

My current workspace in the porch room.

IBM Selectric II

Check out the date!

I hope the pictures show up right. That’s my IBM Selectric II, all 40 lbs of her disco-era goodness. I got her for free on Craig’s List from a guy who just wanted her out of his closet. This is very close to the kind of typewriter I learned to type on back in the 80s, but I think my high school’s typewriters may have been Selectric IIIs. It uses a ball instead of a wheel or arms. What a blast from the past it was remembering how to take it apart for cleaning and re-install the ribbons.

I have to give a hat tip to Professor M for the idea. The typewriter was his solution to being distracted by the internet. It really does help. Feels weird to be physically unable to check Twitter while writing. Exhilarating in its freedom.

Nothing feels like a typewriter. I love how tangible the output is. I mean, on a computer your stories don’t really exist. You always have to have that interface: a machine to view it on, electricity to run the machine, the correct software to open the “document,” a printer to whisper out pages…

With a typewriter, you feel the creation of your words with your fingertips and in the vibration of the table. The volume of that creation announces to the world, “I AM WRITING NOW. DO YOU HEAR ME WRITING? Thinking… WRITING AGAIN.” You can hug your pages to your chest or rip them up and throw them wadded against the wall. You can fold up your creation right away, put it in your pocket, and take it out to show someone later. Also, typewriter ribbon is way cheaper than printer ink.

There is only one con, as far as I can see, and that is the inability to easily correct a typo. But even that isn’t a con to me. I have to type it into the computer later anyway, so I’ll just mark my edits on the page and rewrite as I go. Or I could scan the pages into Word and do a spell check.

I wish I had gotten a typewriter long ago, and I recommend all writers do the same. Typos schmypos.

He sings the truth

I have no idea what most singers on the radio look like, and I don’t care. Image gets in the way of my enjoyment of the music, so I just listen. Because of this, sometimes I’m liking several songs by the same artist and have no idea.

With that in mind, here’s a little story. I’m cooking dinner, and one of my new favorite songs come on, “It Won’t Be Like This for Long.” (Some of you already know where this is going.) There’s something familiar about the guy’s rich, beautiful voice, but I can’t place it. Every time the song comes on I run through all the country artists I can remember, and none match up. So last night I don’t try to figure it out, just slice potatos and let my subconscious do its work.

Hootie. Of Hootie and the Blowfish.

I walk into the living room, chef’s knife in hand, and tell my husband, “There’s this new country song on the radio and the guy sounds exactly like Hootie. Exactly. Same vibrato, same timbre, everything. A really beautiful voice.” Hubs replies, “Huh,” and I return to the kitchen, slide the potatoes in the oven, and go a-googlin’.

Now, I know Hootie is not the guy’s real name, but since I don’t pay attention to such things, I don’t know his real name. I know he’s a black guy, I know he’s handsome, I know he has a great voice, I know I haven’t heard from him in a while. That’s about it. But for some reason, I think of him as an old friend. I love Hootie. I have no idea why, since I didn’t even own a Blowfish album, but I’ve always liked him. Maybe he just seems like a nice guy.

So I find the song I’m looking for, and see the name Darius Rucker. Familiar. And yeah, he’s a black guy. Not jumping to any conclusions, I confirm that Darius Rucker is, indeed, Hootie. I’m ecstatic.

“It’s Hootie!” I yell down the hall. “Hootie’s singing country!” Hubs ambles up and says, “Huh. Really?” And I play “It Won’t Be Like This for Long” on YouTube. Then I find out another song I like even more is also by him: “Don’t Think I Don’t Think About It.”

And that’s my story. I give you Hootie–er–Darius Rucker. (Yay!)

Religion and the banning of books

I don’t usually go into religion on this blog, mostly because I’m a big ol’ wuss and don’t want to cause problems, but Writtenwyrdd’s post about books banned from school libraries made me think. I hope this comes out semi-coherently.

Wyrdd says about the banned books,

And the main factor appears to be, once again, religious intolerance.  As in, you must believe exactly as I do, and I’ll ensure that by giving you nothing to change your mind.  Which, as anyone who has studied any history at all knows, will not work.  In fact, suppression of ideas tends to have the opposite effect than the one desired!

And I agree. Suppression of ideas makes those ideas even more desirable to rebellious teenagers. If they want to really suppress them, the more  effective method would be to simply feign indifference.

However, you can see why these book banners would worry about education leading people away from church. In a fit of serendipity, this article about why one man walked away from Christianity came across my desktop immediately after I commented on Wyrdd’s post. The main reason he gives for leaving is that Christianity just doesn’t make sense. Actually that the existence of God himself doesn’t make sense. That the only reason people believe in any god is because they were indoctrinated in their particular religion as children. (And looking at it objectively, that’s mostly true, isn’t it?) Religion is humanity’s way of explaining the as-yet unexplained, and as science provides plausible explanations for the things we used to take on faith (as in the battle between creationism and evolution, and don’t get me started on that) a modern person absolutely has to reconcile scientific knowledge with faith if they are to continue to embrace the Bible.

So to come back around to my point, yeah, education can transform the idea of God, and for many it disproves God’s existence. Honestly? I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. I believe in God, not as separate entity looking down upon us, but as part of us. Our life essence. Our selves. God does not need us to believe in God. I don’t believe in Hell or being “saved” in the Christian sense, and I’m obviously not the only one. There’s a shift in social consciousness coming about, and banning books which express different ideas is just a way to maintain a way of life that is losing its hold on dominance, just as we do at every major social shift. We’ll settle down into a new way, and when that one goes we’ll likely hold on just as tightly. It’s what we do.

Curiosity

First of all, I’d just like to know who ran over me with a truck while I slept last night. Anyone wanna fess up? I didn’t feel like I worked that hard, so why do I hurt so bad? And of course it’s not the muscles aching, which would indicate some real exercise, only my miserable joints. Ugh.

The weekend blurred all together like one long day. During one waking part of that long day, we dismantled our chain-link fence, only large enough for the tiniest of dogs, and perpetually in the way. It was relatively easy to get apart – not rusted together or anything – and the kids helped by rolling up the fencing and pulling apart the tubes. They even helped carry it all to the junk pile behind the shed. I think I’ll give it away on Freecycle. I wish we’d done it a long time ago. Having that eye sore gone really opens it up, makes the back yard park-like instead of prison-like.

Something else cool that happened this weekend: I got the short story I’m to edit for the final test in my job application with the e-publisher. I’m learning already. Did you know that to create an EM dash in Word, all you have to do is hit Cntrl/Alt/number pad minus? Without that little tidbit, I think you have to find the special characters menu, and blah blah blah. Tedium in spades. Anyway, I send this first round back on June 14. If they publish the story with my edits, they’ll offer me a contract and I’ll start getting royalties on this first story.

You know, I really like knowing all sides of anything I’m involved with. When I worked at Sonic as a teenager, I begged them to teach me every job, even how to clean the grill and make onion rings. The other kids were, like, “Why would you WANT to know how to do more work? Now Derrick will make you do everything.” I didn’t care. I loved knowing all the ins and outs of a drive-in burger joint. I loved being able to do any job in there.

Same thing when I worked at a sewing factory. I took any opportunity to learn a new job at the boss’s request, and sometimes pestered people to let me practice on their machines at break times. The jobs I couldn’t physically do, I watched and learned. And with every boyfriend I ever had, I took on his interests. That’s how I learned about meteorology, and how to work on cars, and basic woodworking, and how to process marijuana into smokeable form (something I could have lived without knowing).

I guess that’s why I enjoy Deadliest Catch and How It’s Made, and not so much Survivor or The Bachelor. It’s why I used to explore abandoned houses as a kid, and ask strangers unusual questions as an adult. I just want to know, is all.

I wish you all a happy, good week.

That reset button is a sticky little sucker.

I’ve spent the past six months or so hitting the ol’ reset button. (Search on “reset” to find related posts.) It’s a sticky little sucker, and I have to hit it several times before it takes. This is my year of renewal, my year for re-evaluating my priorities, my year for growing a backbone and becoming my own woman.

I hope.

I’ve been trying new things, like editing, and letting go of things which don’t serve me, like an unhealthy preoccupation with what other people want of me (still working on this one, but it’s getting easier). I’m tired of fighting. There’s such an attitude of “go get what you want, no matter what! Don’t let anything get in your way! You can do it if you never give up!” in this world that I wondered why it wasn’t working for me. I’m a really tenacious person, taking those sentiments to heart. I’ve spent the first half of my life wondering why I couldn’t make things happen like Trump or Oprah. So I decided since taking the path of most resistance wasn’t working, I’d try to take the maligned path of least resistance.

Well now I forgot where I was going with this.

I think I was going to talk about my writing attitudes. Before, I always wrote to please someone else. I listened to other people’s advice, and as you know, there is a lot of it on the Internet, consumed and regurgitated over and over without thought. Tried to please everyone, you know? And half–no, most of the time I had to guess at what people wanted–readers, agent, potential editors, critters, family. Each of them seemed to want a different thing, and it was impossible to please everybody. Froze me up. Too much resistance.

Well, I’ve had almost two months of forced time off. When I first broke my finger, it didn’t seem real that I wouldn’t be able to truly write until it healed. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was really angry at first, had major withdrawals, not only from the book itself but also from the idea of writing. God, that was hard.

Now I see I should have done this a long time ago, but I was too busy trying not to let anyone down, including my dream. I wish I hadn’t forced Fate to break my finger and my laptop in order to get me to reset this aspect of my life. But now I feel cleaner, like I might actually enjoy writing when I get the chance to start up again, and it makes my eyes well up to feel that love again.

Anyway, that’s my ramble. Have a good weekend.

P.S. Got tired of scrapers stealing my content, so I’m syndicating only an excerpt till I see if it helps. Sorry for the inconvenience.

On My Reader

Maybe it’s been a while since you visited the Sherri Blossoms site or maybe not, but did you notice the widget to the left of here called “On My Reader”? It’s something I used to have on an old template, but for some reason it stopped working and I gave up. A few weeks ago I revived it and lo, it worked! It contains links to new posts every day, mostly from agents and editors. I expected folks to click through to those blogs but it hasn’t been happening, so I figure nobody’s noticed it. Lots of good advice for writers cycling through the widget. Keep checking back.

~~~

[ETA]

“How do I get one?” Darcknyt asks. Well, they don’t come pre-made for WordPress.com, but I can tell you how I made mine using Google reader. WordPress has an RSS widget, but the RSS you use must be made public so it’ll pick it up. Here’s how to do that, in way too much detail.

(This assumes you want to use a folder other than the “Shared Items” folder, which is already on there. You can just use that one if you don’t already use it for something else.)

Okay.

1. Log in to Google Reader and go into Settings, then the “subscriptions” tab.
2. Pick one of the feeds you want to share and click on “Change folders.” Scroll down the drop-down menu and click on “new folder,” then name your folder.
3. Now that the folder is in your list, you can go down the list and check the boxes of all the blogs you want to share. Go up to the drop-down “More actions” menu, and select the folder you just created. Now all the blogs you selected will be in that folder.
4. Click the “Folders and Tags” tab, click the RSS icon next to “private”  to change it to “public.” (I had to refresh the page to make my test folder show up.) You have to make it public, or it won’t show up in the widget, as far as I can tell.
5. Click “view public page” for the folder you just made public and copy the URL.
6. Now log in to WordPress and go to your widgets. Find the widget called RSS and drag it to your sidebar. Paste in the URL for the folder
7. Give it a snazzy title, select the options within the RSS widget, save it and you’re done.

Any questions?

Fully loaded

I went ahead and deleted the CSS file for this blog. Why put it off? The template is now the standard one, and though it looks basically the same, it has lost a bit of its oomph, don’t you think? Just ready to weed the garden to make way for whatever is coming. Get rid of distractions, one at a time. The challenge is not getting rid of the old, tired ones but keeping new, exciting ones from creeping in.

Ha, I just realized I missed my 3-year bloggiversary. Funny, but it seems like longer.

I’ve been thinking about the human tendency to expect things to stay the same. Especially people. When we meet someone, our brain creates a Base Model of the person for reference. Like say you meet a new woman who’s really nice. The Base Model is “Nice”. A few months later you accidentally cross her in some way, and she turns into a raging bitch. There’s a moment of bewilderment when the current model does not match up with the Base Model. Somehow it hurts worse to be yelled at by a person who had previously treated you kindly than by someone whom you always knew was a raging bitch. Just like it’s hard to accept kindness from a “raging bitch” Base Model.

I’ve noticed this with new people I meet. If I go through an introspective jag, the people who find me during that time seem to always connect with me on that level. If I’m writing about racy topics, I meet a whole ‘nother set of folks…who always connect with me on that level, and seem unable to change the Base Model Sherri. And the same goes for humorous times, and writerly times, and all other times. I do it, too. I’ve probably done it to you worse than you’ve done it to me. I like putting things in nice, neat boxes, and it bothers me when they don’t fit.

It might just be an unchangeable human trait, but I think it helps to be aware of it.

Surrender

Well, folks, it looks like I surpassed 30,000 visitors. I’ve been thinking about closing the blog down, or else making drastic changes in order to pump up my flagging interest. Well, it seems that WordPress and GoDaddy are going to make my decision real easy. My CSS subscription runs out in a month, so my beautiful pink links will be gone bye-bye. No reason to lay down $15 to maintain a blog I’m not sure I even want to keep up anymore. Also, my domain sherricornelius.com is expiring, so I guess this will be a good time to just let it all go.

I doubt I will go cold turkey on blogging, but since I won’t have any money invested there will be no guilt involved if I don’t post for weeks at a time. Most likely I’ll also move to another URL altogether, one which has more to do with my life at this time. I guess I don’t have to make all the decisions at once.

The editor job is closer to being mine. The final test is to edit a short story for publication. If that goes well, they’ll offer me a contract. If not, well, there’s always proofreading. (Her words. lol)

Surrender is hard. Surrender can be depressing, if you’re surrendering to the hardships and not to Grace. I surrender to grace. Not saying this will be my last post ever, just saying changes are coming that should have come a long time ago, if my ego hadn’t gotten in the way of the divine. Wish I could explain that, but I’m not even sure what I mean.

Later!