This brain is offline...

... because I am busy stuffing it full of 19th-century American history. I might have said that this year I'm devoting my professional writing to an entire book, not just a series of essays. You may wonder, how different is it to write a whole book from writing a 3000-word essay? When you're writing nonfiction, it's really not that different, and I can break it down into four simple* steps:

1. Research your subject. This means read, read, read, read. 
2. Take good notes. While you read, highlight significant facts and especially quotes that you might like to reproduce in your piece. A juicy quote from a subject can liven up a piece, or give your argument more weight.
3. Make an outline. This starts by reviewing your notes (or in the case of smaller pieces, re-reading your research). Certain important points will usually jump out at you, either because they're repeated frequently or they're interesting. When outlining, start broadly and then get more specific.
4. Write it together. Once you've got an outline, you can fill it in with those interesting facts and quotes, connecting them all with good transitions and observations. Before you know it, you have a finished essay, or even a finished book! 

Of course, writing a book means each step is more intensive and takes longer, and the outlining step is crucial to keep you organized. Right now, however, I'm on step one: READ READ READ READ. I have a stack of history books over a foot high, and I've only gotten through about 3.5 inches of them. So I have little more for anything else in my head; the hamsters are racing on their wheels as fast as they can, chasing facts about robber barons and greenbacks and the Grange and strikes and all sorts of fun stuff. They would have to slow down to create something for this blog, so you may not see much from me for a while ... although I am still slogging away at the Printz books, and they just announced this year's winners, so I'll get a few more of those in this winter. In the meantime, you can look at the pretty pictures every week.

*simple to describe, not necessarily to do...

It's not that I'm not writing...

... it's that I'm not writing for you. You may have noticed the pace of my blog entries has slowed down quite a bit in recent months. I started this blog in June 2008, back when I was focusing on my fiction and only taking the occasional freelance job. Then TSU and I looked at the bank accounts, looked at number on Boy's varsity jacket ('12), and decided I needed to step it up. In 2009 my invoices totalled nearly three times my total from 2008; it looks like 2010 will be another 35% more than 2009. I've been a busy freelancer, finally feeling like the popular girl everybody loves.

Sadly, my fiction has been taking a back seat. And I was okay with that for a while; one of my manuscripts was getting good feedback—almost-but-not-quite positive responses from editors and agents—and I was content to let it sit there with a "maybe." I did manage to barf out a first draft of a novel during NaNoWriMo last year, as well as three "chapters" of a middle grade novel (since abandoned ... for now), but I wasn't as regular as I had been.

I've decided that has to change. After attending a couple of conferences with really helpful workshops, I'm ready to get out there again. Novel #1 needs a little tweaking to the plot and it already has an editor who's a good candidate for submission (she used the plot summary as an example of "what works" in a workshop). Novel #2 needs more character development; I've been brainstorming some things, and will be making notes in a journal so I can go back and do some heavy revising at some time in the future. Novel #3, which came out of the NaNoWriMo, is undergoing major revisions, but I'm having fun playing with the structure and exploring the characters. Fitting those projects in among my paying jobs, my teaching, and my volunteer work is proving pretty challenging, but I'm going to manage it. One of the ways I'll manage is by making the blog take a back seat. I'll keep posting my weekly photos, but you'll be lucky if you get more than one extra entry per week. I'm running out of craft projects to share and I don't have time to bake more cookies, let alone room in my diet! I know my legions dozens handful of readers will be disappointed relieved, but you gotta write what you're passionate about ... and since I woke up before my alarm today thinking about revisions, not blog entries, that's where I'm going to be writing most days.

I must be forgetting something...

... like, didn't I already write a blog entry this week? I didn't? Why does it feel like I have? Could it be I was thinking about what to write (Word Nerd Q, my favorite apocalyptic fiction, my oppressed left hand) and actually forgot to do the writing part?

I can't imagine how I overlooked it. Over the past week I've baked three cakes and one batch of cookies, quilted a twin-size quilt, played in a concert and practiced for another gig, wrapped presents, written the annual holiday letter (and addressed and stuffed 60 copies into envelopes), attended three parties, and hosted one of my own—all in addition to my usual duties teaching class, working at the shelter, and writing reference book entries. I'm sure I managed to fit a blog entry in there somewhere. Didn't I?

I didn't? I guess this craziness will have to do, then.

This is only a test...

... had this been an actual blog post, you would have been notified by your emergency broadcast system. Or something like that. I know my posts have been few and far between over the last month, but I've been very busy. This year I've invoiced ten times more assignments than last year, and there was another deadline last week, so I was busy focusing on that rather than the blog.

I'm currently between assignments (November's hasn't arrived yet, although I'm already booked for December, January, and half of February), but there's something else taking up my writing time: NaNoWriMo! For those of you unfamiliar with this weird acronym, it stands for "National Novel Writing Month." The idea is that for everyone who ever thought, "Gee, I should write a novel," to take the month of November and scribble down a 50,000 word novel. (Which is very short for novel, but not so much for the kids/YA genre, which is what I'm working in.)

Now, I'm not one of those who has never finished a novel—I have two finished (and revised at least once or twice), and a third that is three-quarters written and all the way plotted. But I have found it difficult to find time for writing fiction, among all the extra assignments I've taken this year, so I see NaNoWriMo as a chance to get back in the fiction habit, as it were. If I were to write every day in November, I would need to write around 1733 words a day; since I know I'll have days when I can't write (chaperoning band nationals next week, and during Thanksgiving), I'm aiming for at least 2000 on the days I do write. So far I've got 3750 for the first two days, which isn't on target but is better than I thought I'd do since I played a concert on the 1st and I spent half of yesterday working on sign lists for the marching band craft fair.

So you can see I may not have as much time this month to write in the blog; NaNoWriMo is blatant permission for me to write meaningless blather, which mitigates the need for the blog. But I'll pop in with some posts here and there; keep posting weeking travel photos; and maybe occasionally write an actual blog post, even when I'm writing about not blogging, as I've done today. I will be reviving Janespotting soon, having checked out Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters (!) from the library, so look for that when I have a few spare minutes. But for now, I'm off to write a crappy novel! Wish me luck!

More fun with numbers

I wasn't paying attention, so it escaped my notice that yesterday was my 200th blog post! I guess time flies when you're blathering about nothing much at all. I thought I'd crunch some numbers anyway, math nerd that I am, and take stock of the last 100 posts. So this is what I've covered since the last time I considered the blog:

163 days (7 days fewer than the first 100 posts)
21 photos of the week
13 posts on Jane Austen
7 rants (2 more than the last 100, it must be the crappy weather)
7 posts on words
6 posts on writing
4 posts on quilting
3 posts proving I'm a nerd
4 submissions to editors or agents
2 rejections (one champagne from an editor I really admire)
1 request for a full mss
1 agent taking his sweet time to get back to me
23,449 words written for pay (more than twice last time!)
many, many, many fewer written for fun
3 followers (I've tripled since last time! who knew insanity is contagious!)
untold* occasional visitors

I guess I'll keep on blogging; there's no particular reason to keep blathering, but there's no reason to stop, either. See you in another 200.

*And I treasure all half dozen of you, especially you people who haven't met me but manage to leave a comment anyway! Thanks!

Gigi reports ... er, blogs

[Furtive glance. The coast is clear. The Grey Ghost can now report.]

It's been almost six years since I began living with the enemy. I was captured from my watcher's outpost, underneath the enemy's deck. They trapped me in a metal box and tortured me with medical probes. (They called it "going to the vet.") They imprisoned me in their house and began bribing me with tasty soft food. I know it is only because they are fattening me up so they can cook me and eat me later. So far I've managed to avoid being put in a pie, but I've had some awfully close calls. Although I usually manage to escape when the people get within ten feet of me, sometimes they trap me. It's my own fault, I suppose. The food lady gives really good ear scritches, and sometimes I break protocol and let her get close enough to catch me. If she cuddles me, I protest by purring as loud as I can. Eventually the vibrations cause her muscles to involuntarily relax, allowing me to escape.

Having observed these humans for many years, I am confident in sending this report to my superiors: the invasion will succeed. The humans are soft. They spend all their time watching strange flickering screens, both large and small. They won't even notice when our feline invasion force infiltrates and smothers them in their sleep. (Although I must note that the other feline occupants of the house, fat cat and skinny cat, will be less than useless; they can't be bothered to do anything but sleep and chase artificial mice.)

While I await your further orders, I will remain here, infiltrating the human house, preparing for our eventual victory and total world domination. If you see me sleeping on the humans' bed, it is only to stay warm and conserve my energy for the final battle. It has nothing to do with extra scritches. Nothing at all.

[Grey Ghost out.]

Who's in first? I'm in third.

I've had a slow start this morning; it could be because it's laundry day, or because the combination of fog and sun outside is entrancing, or because I've added at least half an hour of exercise (and subsequent bathtime) to my daily routine.

...Or it could be because I'm wasting time on Facebook. I never mean to spend a lot of time there, but it's such a fun way to keep in touch with people. Through Facebook, I've gotten in touch with friends from England I haven't heard from in six or seven years. Through Facebook, I've heard from high school friends I haven't contacted since graduation twent, *cough, mumblemumble* years ago. Through Facebook, I get to share current photos from friends and relatives that I might not normally get a chance to see. Then there's the sometimes-annoying/sometimes-fun applications, where you can waste time playing word games or demonstrating football trivia knowledge or growing fake plants to save the rainforest.

My favorite part of Facebook, though, has to be the little "status updates" that everyone contributes when they check in. You know, the one-line descriptions: "Joe is feeling sick today." "Mary is battling ennui." "Jim-Bob is sure he saw the Loch Ness Monster in a pothole this afternoon." It's a good writing exercise, trying to encapsulate my mood or describe some news in just a sentence or two.*

After playing with Facebook status updates, though, I'm developing a bad habit of thinking about myself in the third person:

"Diane Telgen is thinking about making brownies today."
"Diane Telgen is still seeking serendipity."
"Diane Telgen is ready for her closeup."
"Diane Telgen is queen of the universe! All shall love her and despair!"

Whoops. I guess it's a good thing I come back to Blogger to remember I'm just a simple first-person narrator, like everyone else.

*And yes, I know Twitter is like all-status-updates, all-the-time, but if I got on there I'd never get anything done.

Playing hooky...

All work and no play make Diane something something. Boy has the day off from school and has graciously consented to go to a movie with me (despite there not being any action movies or Will Ferrell comedies in the theaters), so I need to spend my computer time writing assignments, not blogging. So in addition to playing a little hooky from work, I'm playing hooky from the blog, too.

Besides, I haven't seen a movie in 2009 yet, and I'd like to see more than one of the five films nominated for Oscar's Best Picture nominees. Maybe I can get a future blog post out of it.

The Word Nerd Sez: H is for ...

hiatus

First of all, I've got a deadline staring me in the face, so I have to take a little break from writing in this blog. So I like this word over "interruption" or "break," because it implies I'll be back. (And I will be back soon.)

Second, I like this word because of one of its alternate meanings: "the occurrence of two vowel sounds without pause or intervening consonantal sound," like in the words reality, naive, or ... hiatus.

Last, I love the etymology of the word: from the Latin hiare, which according to the Webster's site means "yawn." That's something I do a lot of, especially in days like today, when I'm trying to adjust to school schedule after enjoying vacation hours.

But don't worry, I won't ignore the blog entirely. Instead of writing, I'll be posting some of my favorite wildlife pictures from my Antarctica trip last year. It was exactly one year ago today we began our trip back from the Antarctic peninsula, and while at sea we saw a lot of sea birds like this one, a giant petrel I was lucky enough to snap mid-flight. Enjoy the pretty pictures, I'll be back writing soon.

Fun with numbers!

I looked at my statistics yesterday, and realized that this would be my 100th post in The Blathering. That's a pretty impressive number—at least, if you're a math nerd who loves playing with numbers, like me. (Example of math nerdery: while at Nationals this summer, I told my teammates that it was easy to remember my room number: it was a perfect power of 2, on the 5th floor, so of course it was 512. I saw quite a few head shakes in response to reciting this fun fact.) Anyway, I thought the way to celebrate my 100th post was to look at all the fun numbers related to this blog, which I started at the beginning of June:

170 days to write 100 posts
23 travel photos posted
13 posts about writing
9 haiku composed
9 posts about sewing/quilting
8 posts about cats (it only feels like more; sorry!)
8 posts about words
6 posts complaining about how boring Moby Dick was
5 ranting posts (although I feel another coming on, about the ancient piece-of-crap Jeep perpetually parked across from my driveway)
5 posts that prove I'm a total nerd (some might argue the number is 100)
6 manuscripts sent to publishers/agents
4 rejection letters
2 agents/publishers who need to speed it up!
11,068 words written for pay
untold* words written for fun
1 blog follower (Thanks, Mom!)
untold** regular readers

I'm kind of amazed that I've managed 100 posts, writing about nothing much at all. (Although I suppose if Seinfeld managed nine television seasons of a show "about nothing," this little blog isn't that much of an achievement.) Still, it's been fun to write, and even better when people stop by and comment. I plan on sticking around for at least another 100 posts, just to see what happens.

*Actually, I fear I would be depressed if I calculated how many words I've written for fun. Not as many as I'd like, that's for sure.
**And I appreciate all six of you.

Callie blogs!

It's about time that Food Lady gave me a chance to blog. You'd think she'd be quicker to get the idea*. I sat on her desk, next to the computer, and all she did was scratch my ears. Then I sat on her lap, right in front of the keyboard, and all she did was stroke my fur. I tolerated that for a little while. She tries to be nice, I guess, but if she's not going to give me some treats (ie FRESH CHICKEN), she should at least give me a turn on the clicky click click machine. Click click click and little bugs dance across the screen. I like to chase bugs. They are quite tasty, if not as good as FRESH CHICKEN.

I've fixed her, ha ha. She's gone somewhere with the Big Noisy Man and left the computer on where I can get it. She thought I was sitting on the cat tree looking out the window for birdies, but I was really waiting to pounce on this keyboard. So now I can give you the real scoop about what goes on around here.

I am the real boss of the house, of course. Even my Big Fat Sister knows better than to mess with me. I tolerate her when it suits my purposes. Here all her extra fat is helping keep me warm, so I permit her to share my pillow. But if I'm enjoying a seat near Food Lady's dinner and she tries to nose into my territory, I will growl and swat her nose until she backs off. I will not share my chance for crumbs with anyone, especially not Big Fat Sister, who doesn't need any extra crumbs. I don't even bother growling at the Gray One; that's what Big Fat Sister is for. She keeps the Gray One in line, and I enjoy the top perch for watching birds, getting the best food, and stalking FRESH CHICKEN.

Don't let the Food Lady fool you. She may be making clicky clicks on this computer all day, but she's not doing real work. Sometimes I have to stare at her for 10 minutes before she realizes that I need more food! Those food pouches don't open themselves, so get to work, Lady! And when you're done, I feel like chasing a mousie. Don't make me come in there and knock the toy box off your desk before you realize you need to get back to work. And when you're done with that, come fluff my quilt. This blogging thing is tiring; I need another nap.

*I can't believe it took me this long, either, but I just now saw the idea somewhere else, and all the best ideas for this blog come from thievery.

Procrastination Vacation!

Ah, summer! It's August, and the fish are calling us. "Come catch us!" they whisper. "Come filet us!" they hint. "Come fry us up in pancake mix and butter!" they suggest. "Come eat us!" they insist. We shan't disappoint them.

Yes, it's time to join what's becoming an annual ritual for my family: fish camp. We find a place on a lake, rent a few cabins and a pontoon boat, catch fish like crazy, and eat eat eat! This year we will have almost 40 people from four generations of the family: my 92-year-old grandmother, still healthy and witty and determined to enjoy everything now that it's our turn to cook; 7 of her 8 children (plus 4 or 5 of their spouses/partners); 10 of her 11 grandchildren (plus 6 of their spouses/partners); and 8 or 9 of her great-grandchildren, from Boy, the eldest at 14, to the newest addition, only 3 months old. It will be quite the gathering, complete with food, cards, food, swimming, biking, food, reading, sightseeing, and I think some food.

So, Dear Readers (all six of you), I am taking a break from this blog. Although my laptop is accompanying us up North, I won't being trying to work. I have no need to procrastinate, and thus no need to spend time here. Besides, half my regular readers will be up at camp with me. Through the magic of scheduled postings, a new photo-of-the-week entry will appear on Monday; if I manage to finish The Pioneers tonight, I might schedule it to appear during the week. But maybe not. The fish are waiting, you see, and I need to get ready.

No comment!

In which I ask you, Dear Reader: What's up? Do you really not have anything to say to me? I look at the past week's carefully crafted blog entries and see the same disappointing (not to say ungrammatical) statistics: "0 comments ... 0 comments ... 0 comments." Am I typing my thoughts into the void of the internet, with no one reading them?

What's the big deal?, you may ask. It's just a blog. Well, if I wanted my writing to be ignored, I would send it out to agents and publishers and wait for their rejections. (Oh, wait, I already do that.) I was talking with someone about the frustrating process of finding a publisher the other day, and they said, "Oh, so you want to be famous?" I shook my head no, because that's not it at all. Fame/success/money might be nice (or might not be), but what I really want is to be heard.

I was reading Stephen King's On Writing the other week—a very entertaining as well as informative book about the craft—and he had the perfect metaphor for the act of reading. When you read something, he noted, you're engaging in telepathy with the author. If I describe something—say, a large, growling tiger—and you read my description, a picture is being transmitted from my mind to yours. The more details I include—the growling tiger is wearing a large purple tutu around its hips, and dancing an Irish jig atop a grand piano—the more similar our pictures become. Reading is an act of magic, because you can engage in telepathy across continents and cultures and even centuries. When I write something, I'm trying to create magic.

So when you don't comment, I don't know whether I've successfully brought the rabbit out of the hat, or if it got stuck somewhere below the brim. You don't have to be clever, or wordy. A simple "hi" will do. I'd even take "that's completely stupid," because at least it would mean you're reading. You don't have to be a Blogger member to comment. You don't even have to leave your name (although it would be nice). But let me know you're out there, Dear Reader, so I know if we're making the magic happen.

Blogging still counts as writing, right?

This is all Jacqui's fault. She started a blog. I started reading it. I composed a few cute little responses to her very clever pieces. Boy, this is fun, I thought, not at all boring, like revising Chapter 2 in my novel for the umpteenth time. Maybe I should start a blog....

So I arrived here, starting my very first blog. After all, they say that any writing is good practice, right? And practice makes perfect, erm, improved, right? And who can't stand to improve their writing, especially an aspiring novelist still seeking that first contract? So typety-typety-type, I will write! I will improve! I will stun the publishing world with my talent and self-deprecating wit!

What's more likely, though, is that I'll just blather on about writing, reading, and other stuff you may (or most likely may not) find interesting. But hey, this is the internets! I'm sure somebody else out there is trying to put off revising Chapter 2 for the umpteenth time, so maybe they'll find my blog. We can procrastinate erm, exchange ideas, together.

At least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.