Friday Feature: The Novice’s Tale

I have an aunt who’s the vice-principal at a Catholic school, and she’s an avid reader with a great, quirky sense of humor. So when I heard that she liked a series about a medieval crime-solving nun , I gave it a good chuckle and forgot about it. That is until I stumbled across The Novice’s Tale by Margaret Frazer. She hadn’t been kidding. Naturally, I had to read it.

Now, as this is the first book of the series, it didn’t answer the most burning question: how the heck does a cloistered nun in a convent come into contact with so many murderers? Luckily for me, I enjoyed the book enough that I plan on continuing the series, so I should be able to find out. *Grins*

The story begins with the apparent assumption that the reader is acquainted with the main character, Dame Frevisse, as it’s already comfortably settled in her life. There’s no back story for why she became a nun or how long she’d been there, but that doesn’t detract from the book. Quite the opposite. I found myself wondering about Frevisse, wanting to know more about her past and her life, but not so much so that the mystery of her detracted from the mystery of the book, namely who killed the overbearing Lady Ermentrude if not the meek and devout novice Thomasine?

The history, too, is woven in with a fairly light hand, though I got pulled out of the story for awhile when Frevisse revealed that she is the niece of Geoffrey Chaucer’s son. I had to resituated myself in time and history, dredging up all Chaucer-related tidbits of knowledge I’d picked up back in school, and I needed to suppress the urge to run off and do some researching. Once I’d renewed my suspension of disbelief, I followed gamely enough and even enjoyed Frevisse’s relationship with her good-natured uncle.  

The Novice’s Tale is a good, quick read, and you can pretty much guarantee that there ain’t nothin’ else out there like it.

If Only I Didn’t Have to Sleep

I’m a night owl living in a morning-person’s world. *Sigh* If only I didn’t have to sleep, I’d have so much time to do all that fun, [marginally] creative ideas that I’ve got floating around my head. Curses, o’ Day Job! Thy necessity is as iron bands upon my soul!! Though I must feign obedience to thy viscous demands, I shall refuse to bow beneath thy accursed stringency!

Ahem. Please excuse my emo moment. As you may have guessed, free times seems an elusive thing as of late. It’s my own damn fault, though. I’d signed up to be a judge for the RWA’s Golden Heart awards, and, naturally, set the ’scripts aside until now, when my ratings are due in on Monday. (For those of you who may not know , the Golden Heart is a contest for unpublished manuscripts, and entries consist of a synopsis and the first 50 pages of a completed ms.) I don’t think it’d be fair to rush reading the entries since it’d my own fault that I waited so long, so I’m setting aside my editing in favor of reading each in turn. CN will just have to wait.

What’s even better [being sarcastic here, folks] is that characters from two of my other WIPs have taken to pacing inside my head. And there’s not a lot of room up there. They keep bumping into each other, and they’re getting irritable about it, but I need to first finish reading the GH entries and then complete my edits to CN before I work on either of them. And Pynimy (pronounced Pin-eh-mee), my girl, you’re really going to have to wait because you have the worst habit of only popping up when I’m not actively working on your story.

Anywho, here’s a fantastic comic I stumbled across the other day that offers a funny critique of movies and their genres. Click on the picture of the right for Brian Carroll’s description of the Romance genre. It’s pretty funny.  (This link is for my favorite strip so far, all about chick flicks versus romantic comedy.) Another link about why a man hates beauty and the results of the “contrast effect” of modern media, and finally–just to throw in the bizarre–another about a fish with a see-through head. No, really. It’s crazy.

Books to Movies and Movies to Books

Okay, I’ve been gone awhile. I know. I have been remiss, vaporous, and deficient. Of course, that’s one of the benefits of having your own blog. You can do stuff like disappear mysteriously for days and offer no excuse other than to say “that’s just the way it had to be, baby”. Call me the modern day Agatha Christie. (Except for that whole, you know, writing genius mysteries thing.)

I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that this will be yet another of my nothing-in-particular posts, but you’d be wrong. Ha! Had you going for a minute there, didn’t I? This post does, in fact, have a very particular topic.

The Oscars.

Yes, I watched them. I haven’t the last few years, but I did this year from beginning to end. What does this have to do with writing? Well, they do give out awards for screenplays, you know. The “Best Adapted Screenplay” is one of my all-time favorite categories, and unlike the Best Actor/Actress/Cinematographer/Person-Who-Held-The-Grip-Straight categories, the winner of the adapted screenplaywill get a guaranteed viewing. I will watch that movie if I have to hunt through every last Blockbuster in the greater metro area. Thank God for Netflix.

Even better, the movie has a book that goes with it. Woo-hoo! What could be better than yet another excuse to read? But I don’t just want to be entertained. I want to learn, too. Somewhere along the line, a book spoke to someone loud enough and strong enough for him or her to think, “This could be a great movie”. Why? What about the book was so compelling?

Then you get to watch the final result of the process that created words on a page to images on a screen, and you get to see what they left out, what they changed, and what they tried to keep as close to the original as possible. Why those scenes? Why that phrase? Naturally, I’m of the “book is always better” set, but I also think that the two media can’t fairly be compared. Different rules apply. I think of it as comparing planes to cars. Yes, the goal of each is essentially the same, but different laws of physics make each go, and people have very different reasons for choosing one mode over the other. The visual tells a story in the way the written can’t and vice-versa.

Sometimes they can come close, though. A brief, beautiful merge of prose and pictures. I like to say that the closest movie I’ve seen that gave me the same sense of reading is The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins. Those two actors are so innately talented that at times I believed I could feel what they felt, as though I’d seen their thoughts written on the page. Most recently, I’m seeing it in the current book I’m reading, Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (also to be a movie). But that’s another post.

Have a Happy

Happy Birthday, Shannon!

Friday Feature: The Witch of Blackbird Pond

I wanted a “comfort” book to read last night, and this is the one I chose of the five or six I designate in that category: The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare. It may have been written in 1958, but it translates spectacularly into contemporary. And, yes, it may be a young adult novel, but that just means it brings back good memories.

Good book.

My Genius is Only Limited By My Own Idiocy

Well, idiocy and a lack of funds. It’s much easier to be creative when you can afford to spend more time on it and splurge on nifty things like art supplies and scanners.

Then again, I’m whining. So many people have created beautiful things with little or no money, but I’m going to blame my current pout on tiredness and a mild headache because I was up late last night editing. Wow–I never thought I’d hear those words come out of my mouth. (Well, figuratively speaking anyway.) To voluntarily stay up editing…I think hell may have frozen over. Someone go check.

“Ain’t I a stinker?”

As you may have guessed, I’m not too ambitious today, so here’s a quick questionnaire just for fun. I’m not going to tag anyone, but feel free to answer these your own self either in the comments or on your blog.

Right this minute, I’m:

In love with: My Earl Grey Lavender Tea
Wearing: A coral shirt, dark jeans, and black sneakers with little skulls and crossbones on them (Yep, I’m crazy like that.)
Listening to: Ultravox – “True Believer” on blip.fm
Wishing I Could: Be at home editing (I have an addiction problem.)
Waiting for: My tea to finish steeping
Missing: My sisters
Feeling: Tired and almost cranky (Not quite there yet, but I don’t think I will be.)
Dreaming of: Um…World peace? Otherwise we’re going to be redundant because I’m actually daydreaming about my story. As always.
Irritated at: My eyes. They hurt.
Wanting: Lunch.
Needing: Something other than the chicken and brown rice I brought for lunch today, like pizza or Chinese food…basically anything with artery-clogging capabilities.
Wondering: About an edit I should have made last night. I thought of it while lying in bed, but I didn’t write it down and now I can’t remember it.

Tag Lines

I want business cards to take to the RWA National Conference with me this year. When I went last time, I appreciated the people I met who had them because it helped me remember them better. Seeing their names written down helped prevent those awkward goodbyes where I’m thinking to myself, Okay, I know I just met you five minutes ago, but I can’t for the life of me remember your name, which led those fabulously awkward instances where you end up saying, “Nice meeting you,–uh. Um. Bye!” 

I also received some good advice: after someone gives you his or her business card,  jot down a little something about the person on the back to help spark your memory. Something like “woman at luncheon with the beautiful green scarf” or “helped me find conference room B”.

This year I want to be one of those people, so I’m attempting to design business cards. In so doing, I have also decided that I need a tag line. While I want to keep the cards simple, the designs I have so far are, well, boring. They need a bit more personality. Like me. Now, for those of you who may not know, a tag line is essentially a brief glimpse of what you write. It’s a clue to your style, and for those lucky enough and talented enough to earn it, the tag line usually ends up getting replaced with something like “New York Times Bestselling Author”.

Here are some examples of tag lines:

Evelyn Palfry – “romantic suspense for the marvelously mature”
Skylar White – “brainy exotica”
Julie Kenner – “Fiction Beyond the Ordinary”
Sherry Thomas – “Finely Wrought Romance…with an Edge”
Jane Sevier – “award-winning writer and novelist in the making”
Tracy Wolff – “Sexy Men. Bold Women. Wicked Romance.”

The problem is, I can’t decide on one. So I’m enlisting your help. Below are some of the possibilities I’ve been tossing around.

Go on. Vote. It’s the American way.

Tuesday Updates

Ugh. Titles hate me. Why else would they run and hide whenever I try to find one? I never come up with clever or catchy titles, hence the “Tuesday Updates” of this post. My manuscripts tend to utilize either the main character’s name or some characteristic of him or her. Not the most brilliant of methods, but it works for me. The only title I really like took me years to come up with: THE MARK OF THE COMMON. A young adult alternative historical romance that, sadly, is still not finished despite being occasionally worked on for…well, I don’t know how many years exactly. How old are 7th graders because that’s when I started it (and you can definitely tell).

But I’m rambling as I’m so often wont to do.

Today’s a hazy, drizzly, gray day. Perfect for writing, but of course I’m blogging instead. I love this weather; it’s a good time for playing catch-up, and so I thought I’d offer updates on some running projects.

CAROLINA NORTH – I’m still on an editing roll (knock on wood), and have completed over 100 pages of editing. The manuscript has grown, however, and is now creeping up on 400 pages, which luckily isn’t an overwhelming length for a ms. The few parts that will need to undergo major rewrites, however, are coming up, so we’ll see how it goes in the next week or so. My goal is to have the edits complete so I can send it out to a few victims friends and hopefully get feedback long enough before the RWA National Conference that I can make any necessary changes.

BEAR – I’ve pretty much figured out what I need to accomplish in the next scene, so I should be able to dive right back in after the CN edits. A friend’s got the rough (rough) draft, and I’m curious to hear what she thinks about it so far, though I don’t want to push her. (I also want to maintain my focus on actually writing the story and not editing the story, so I’m telling myself to be patient.)

WARRIOR – This is the story I want to write for the blog. It’s still bobbing around my conscious, but luckily the main character, Ji, is a very patient man. He knows I’ll get around to him sometime.

Speaking of the blog, I may have recruited a couple of guest bloggers who’ll be willing to pop in from time to time. I hope to be able to talk more about Art and Influences as well as help out any would-be YA writers. Time will tell how this will work out, so I’ll keep you posted. (And hint, hint for the two people I’ve bludgeoned approached with the idea.)

I’m also planning on updating both the Dictionary for Beginning Writers and my TBR Challenge, which I’m going to be renewing for 2009.

And, just for fun, yet another story idea–this one a freakin’ seven book series, which is just plain ridiculous and for which I’m quite irritated at my idiotic subconscious–has smacked me upside the head, sat down beside me, and won’t shut up. I’m using the fact that I’ll need to do some research before starting any part of the series as a buffer between me and the muse so that I can finish what I’m currently working on. Mariah and her sisters will just have to wait in the corner until I’m ready to deal with them.

So there.

Predictions: V-Day Meets Friday the 13th

Today is Friday the 13th. (Cue scary music. Da-da-da-dum…)

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. (Cue Barry White. “Can’t get enough of your love, babe…”) However, since V-Day is shoved down our throats at least a week before the big event, in my mind the two have coincided despite the obvious paradox. So. My predictions for what may happen when Valentine’s Day meets Friday the 13th.

1. Wives will return home to discover that their husbands have written “All work and no flowers makes Jack a dull Valentine” over and over in hundreds of V-Day cards and will hope to God the axe was where they’d last left it.

2. Pale, blonde children will suddenly appear and demand women marry their alien fathers and become their new human stepmoms to begin creating a new hybrid race that will eventually take over the world and exterminate all mankind.

3. A deadly virus will spread between people who get paper cuts from Valentines Day cards.

4. The author of The Big Book of Porn will decide to rewrite Pride and Prejudice featuring zombie hordes intent on munching their way through the citizens of Meryton until, of course, the feisty Elizabeth Bennett decides to wage war against these uncivilized undead.

Oh, wait… One of these has already come true. Thanks to Bean for the heads up. I’m staying away from cornfields and greeting cards until March.

*Grins*

But for all those who may better appreciate the Valentines Day spirit, here’s a Flickr love story that’s sure to make you go “Awww…”

Short Poems & One Lines

As I mentioned yesterday, here are a few of the short poems and one-liners that have absolutely no other purpose other than my own amusement.

Nothing grows in purity.

When I looked to the side of me,
that stranger was my family.

Rarely does one find such tokens as these,
besotted and love struck as it were, beside
themselves with glee. Fewer things have
ever been denied, tried and then blind-sided
by their own desires. What time holds
secret, others hold dear and consequential.

Silence stirs me to speak.

Fate winks at me, hiding a sweet
little smile behind demure hands
while I can only stand, surprised into
a delighted silence, blinking unerringly.

My prayers weren’t any jumble
of words, engorged with meanings
and definitions, but simply one
dull ache that knotted and
twisted and writhed in every
part of me. This ache is what
cried out to God, beyond any voice.

A golden god cannot bring peace,
for even Apollo grows jealous.

Few things last so well as time.

In this land of bone-deep cold and
frozen fingertips, where breath can
crack and air can suffocate, is where
fates meet and time is changed again.
[Inspired by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein]

words of brave negligence that
steal my soul away and block
all blessed light of forgotten day
against whom I do forswear to
bring threats of false company
[Never could settle on the punctuation for this one.]

Damaged days do equal injury to wasted spirits.

Befuddle my mind with inconstant
thought and think not upon me with
any frequency, for I am no longer
yours, and yet still am not I mine.

The greatest mystery is that I wonder at all.
Comprehension is miraculous. Thought is comprehension. I am thought.
In the wonder of the world, I pace myself.

The realization of self-worth tempts confidence, reliance on solitude. I only wish as much for me.