Ever since school got out, I’ve been reading Oscar Wilde: I’ve read all his comedies, and I’m in the middle of The Portrait of Dorian Gray. Wilde was so clever. I’ve watched several movie versions of The Importance of Being Earnest and The Ideal Husband. You see, Oscar Wilde is going to be a minor (or perhaps major, it’s too early to tell) character in my next novel. It takes place in 1880 London and is the story of two women who trade places for a week, each pretending to be the other, and the mayhem that follows. I started writing yesterday and got a good 1000+ words in.

I’ve had so much fun doing my research, that I’ve had trouble getting started on this novel. I like to immerse myself in a time period by reading that time period exclusively and intensely. Wilde’s work is perfect, because he has a strong and unique voice. I’m trying to get his voice to move into my own head, so when I write, I write in a Wilde-esque manner.

The problem for me is balancing the immersion and the writing. Beginning to write is hard, so I’m always tempted to sit and read and use that as an excuse to delay my writing. I think that if I were able to write full-time, I would have an easier time of it. I’m good at sticking to a schedule once I have made one: maybe mornings for research/reading/immersion and afternoons for writing. Or maybe immersion on Tues/Thurs and writing on Mon/Wed/Fri. What a dream that would be!

As it is, I have two weeks until classes start again, and next week I will need to be on campus doing prep and attending meetings. So, I have what is left of this week to try and get things really going, going in such a strong way that my brain can stay focused on my story and characters and my Wilde-esque voice.

So, it’s time to log off this blog and get writing!

I edited for about 90 minutes yesterday. The work involved incorporating all my younger son had written and improving a couple of scenes I’d been thinking about. I still need to read through the whole thing one more time, fixing little things and looking for major problems. Then, it will be ready to move to the next stage.

This story my family and I have written is a children’s mystery that takes place at the American Suzuki Institute, focusing on four 12 to 13 year olds (2 boys, 2 girls) and a stolen violin. The violin is a mythical “Goldin” violin–very expensive, with almost magical qualities to it.

Both of my kids are Suzuki violinists and have been attending this “summer violin camp” for many years. They are the experts for anything having to do with music. We want to run the manuscript by the director of the Institute to make sure all the details regarding the running of the Institute are accurate. One of the main characters is an actual Suzuki teacher. We need to get permission from him to use him as a character, and see if he wants to fix any of the “witty banter” associated with his lessons.

So, the next stage will be to show the manuscript to the director and the teacher and see what they have to say.

The beauty of this book is that it has a ready market of readers: attendees of the American Suzuki Institute. Hopefully the story will be good enough that word can spread out of that demographic to the general kid-reading public.

My husband has helped with ideas for the story and, as our resident computer expert, will be in charge of turning the manuscript into an actual book. We plan to self-publish this spring and have the book ready for the summer institute.

Check back here to get updates on The Stolen Goldin Violin.

I was so disciplined in November. Now it’s December and I really should be editing. But, there are Christmas presents to buy…. the house to decorate…. The semester is winding down and I’ve got papers to grade and finals to write…. soon I’ll have finals to grade…. And, my gosh, I didn’t clean the house at all during November, so now I really should get to it….

I’m vowing here and now to edit tomorrow for at least an hour—two if I can manage it. I have a million other things I could be doing, but I’m going to edit! I will post tomorrow evening and let you know if I did.

Well, it’s November 30, and I have finished my children’s mystery. It is not the 50,000 words that NaNoWriMo tries to get its authors to write (closer to 30,000), but I never really thought it would be that big. It’s a children’s story, so perhaps shorter is better.

I still have a lot of editing to do, but I think we will have it clean and ready to be self-published by spring break. We are hoping to start selling it this summer. It is exciting. And, really, it’s amazing what a person can do when she puts her mind to it. A month ago, this story was just in my head; now it is all on paper.

I read the story to my collaborators (my family) over Thanksgiving and they gave good feedback and suggestions. My youngest son sat down and immediately wrote a couple of new scenes. They are so well written! I look forward to putting them in the story.

It’s November, and I’m writing. It feels great. I’m hardly sleeping at all.

Even as a a child I had a hard time falling asleep at night. Then, about eighteen months ago, I started falling asleep right away every night. I attributed it to the small glass of red wine I sometimes had before bed. I’m beginning to realize that it actually coincided with the completion of Syncopation. After finishing that novel, I decided not to write anything until I had spent time working on agents and editors to get it published. Wow! I slept like the dead during those months. Now, I’m writing again and not sleeping. I guess it is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

What do you give up when you’re writing?

I believe that doing something uncomfortable or difficult often expands creativity and gives a person greater confidence and strength. So . . . I’m going to try to write somebody else’s ideas very fast.

I’ve just registered for the National Novel Writing Month (www.nanowrimo.org), and I’m going to write a children’s mystery that my husband and kids and I all made up during a hiking trip this past summer. I’ve been trying to think about this story for a while, but the characters won’t talk to me, and I have a hard time focusing on the outline and plot details. I concentrate, and then the story drifts like smoke out my ears, and ten minutes later I realize I haven’t been thinking about it at all.

November should be an interested month. I’ll try to update you from time to time, but with trying to write 1700 words a day, be forewarned: I may not update this blog until December.

I hear stories everywhere. When we were camping in Canada, I visited a tiny campground museum and saw a short film about the voyageurs. A young female voyageur spoke to me, telling of her adventures dressed as a man, canoeing the Canadian wilderness. Over the next few days, while I was hiking and swimming and daydreaming, the story developed and grew. Then, when we got to Montreal, I met a different story, and again in Vermont. When I was in Europe a couple of years ago, stories conversed with me everywhere we went. European history screams stories.

The problem for me, as a writer, is to focus on listening to just one of the stories calling to me. If I can focus on one, I learn about the characters, the complications of the plot, the details of the setting. When I finally put pen to paper, I have spent countless hours inside my story, talking with the characters, walking through their gardens, considering their problems. This is the magical, wonderful, dreamy part of being a writer. The torture is in the writing: choosing words, typing sentences, inking on paper. Sometimes I feel like I vomit up my story and then spend months cleaning it up.

Some people, when they learn that I’m a writer, will say, “Oh! You know, you should write about….” and give me some random idea. I smile and try to be polite. These are often people I like a lot, and I don’t want to offend them. But, golly jeepers! I don’t have any trouble with ideas. I don’t have the time or discipline to write all of my own ideas. I would like to devote my full attention to each and every one of the characters who call out to me, but there are too many and their numbers are forever increasing. Why would I want to waste my time with a story I don’t know? whose characters I’ve never met and who aren’t talking to me?

These are not words that are often said to me.  I’m a slow thinker.  The electric pulses don’t snap in my skull, rather they ooze like thick lava on a barely inclined plane.  This is why I became a writer.  A writer can take a long time.  Write, read, re-write, read, edit, read, re-write.  It can take me twenty minutes to send a short email.  This blog has taken more than a week.

I think most blogs are the work of clever, quick-thinking people.  Not this blog.  If you notice I haven’t posted anything for several weeks, it’s because the lava hasn’t descended far enough.  Pumice is worth the wait.  Isn’t it?