Seasons Pass

Halfway through October and the holiday season looms on the horizon. Time to crawl out from under the rock where I've been hunkered down avoiding the summer heat. Hunker: to shelter in a defensive position. Hmmm... Second definition is: to figuratively apply oneself seriously to a task. I was going to use the "hunker" excuse to explain my writer's block, but instead I choose to turn it around and use it as a commitment to resume writing my novel.

LOOKING FORWARD:
sweaters
several days alone
completing my rewrite of Chapter 6
reading "Structuring Your Novel"
walking The Beast
my pedicure appointment
Thanksgiving with our neighbors and their parents from Austin, TX
CAN WALK Las Vegas (and my Max Martini friends)
a quiet Christmas

I don't like endings. In high school, I used to dread the end of the day. Maybe "dread" is too strong. Mourn? I mourned the passing of another day, another chance missed, opportunity lost. The end of summer feels the same. A sense of loss, the end of the year. The trees dropping their leaves, grass dying, fields left bare. Cloudy skies and heavy air -- summer's gone and now it's gray 'til May. I don't mind the end of winter or Spring with the promise of sunshine and new life all around.

Grandma and Mom always got depressed in the winter, missing family members who were no longer with us. I remember watching other people embracing the change of season, looking forward to winter and the holidays and I never understood why. Then I moved out west where I enjoy 350 days of sunshine every year. After 25 years, I have finally learned to appreciate a rainy day. Now I long for a day when I can just listen to the rain beat the dust into submission, smell the desert sage and creosote perfume and look for worms on the sidewalk.

Last night I sat on the patio bundled up, sipping hot of tea, and took a deep breath of crisp air. And I did not cough--no dust in the air! Sweet honeysuckle and jasmine, and just a hint of mesquite from a neighbor's firepit. I watched the twinkling lights of our boys in blue as they raced overhead and enjoyed the sound of freedom in the night sky. I looked for my favorite constellations: Cassiopeia, Pleiades and Orion. I saw a satellite whiz by a few miles up. And I let go of summer and my litany of regrets.

Vacation/Research Trip

I took a few days off work and traveled to Southern Arizona last month. I flew into Tucson and drove to Sierra Vista/Fort Huachuca. I couldn't believe how much has changed in the last 13 years. I stayed at the Windmere Hotel (so-so) and spent my days writing/driving/photographing and just soaking in the atmosphere. I even stood outside in the rain just to feel the drops and smell the lush wet desert smell (creosote and sage).

I hiked for a couple of hours in Huachuca Canyon and took approximately 30 pictures of my setting. I visited old friends in the Fort Huachuca cemetary. I drove out to Bisbee, Tombstone and Benson. I ate awful food. I threw my back out and have been hobbling around for two weeks, but it was worth it!

I'm homesick for my high desert town.

I added approximately 4800 words to my manuscript and another 2000 or so in handwriting scribble. I'm calling it a successful trip!

Photos to be posted when I figure out how to reduce the file size.

Critique Day

I spent a few hours with my writing partner today! She lost her beloved mother two weeks ago and has been tangled up in family situations. I've missed her smile, her spark and her kind words. I've missed the gentle shove she gives me to keep me on track and writing. I've missed her sparkly eyes.

Today we had a warm hug, hibiscuses*, and salads at Mimi's Cafe. She opened my manuscript and cut to the bone, with love. "This section is perfect. This other stuff, it's not the same. It's okay, but it's not perfect like this section."

My novel is a story about a girl who joins the Army and on her way to report in for AIT, she gets caught up in a hostage situation. The backstory is layered in, between chapters, drawn from my own experience. My writing partner, who's also named Cindy, told me to open with the backstory.

Maybe the backstory IS the story? I've got some thinking to do.

Do I rewrite the first two chapters of hostage situation to make it more like the backstory? Do I cut the first two chapters? Do I toss the whole idea and just write a literary-type novel based on the backstory?

WWND? (What would Natalie do?)

Keep your hand moving . . .

Keep writing and the answer will come.

That's my answer?


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*like a mimosa, but with cranberry juice