Reality check

I got a catalog from Mary Maxim Needlework and Crafts, touting Over 400 New Items! plus 21 Pages of Exciting Christmas Crafts! There was a time when this would have set my lil ole heart to pitt-a-patting, but today? Not so much. No, it isn't because I'm now an atheist and therefore the Christmas holiday hasn't the same meaning it once did. I still "do" the holidays. It's just that my interests are changing. No, no - that's not it, either. It's that ... I've had to narrow my interests down to what can actually be accomplished in Real Life. (Oh, and that reminds me of a great cartoon I recently StumbledUpon. This will only be funny if you've spent any time in VR... But I digress.)

I used to have a craft room full of stuff, with hundreds of projects tabbed and indexed in hanging files. I used to have boxes of patterns for clothes and drapes and Christmas projects. I used to have tons of fabric and yarn. I used to spend summers crafting everything from afghans to ornaments, from decoupaged footstools to clocks.

Then, several things happened. One, I started writing, and that took up a lot of my crafting time. Actually, now it's like everything takes up my writing time.

Another thing was a bit of arthritis in my hands, so I had to give up thread crochet - no more lacy bookmarks for friends at Christmas. Then I had to give up all but Q-hook crochet - that's the huge hook that can be held comfortably, but you can only make afghans with it, and after a while, meh.

Here's the thing. I'm getting older. Not old, mind you, because that doesn't happen to us Boomers. No, it doesn't. Stop laughing - it does not happen to us! See, I'm getting older ('course, not as old as Hoss), so I'm more aware of the fact that chances are, I'll never get around to doing those hundreds of craft projects. I didn't come to this realization just now - that was a year ago when we were going to sell Maxwell House and make our alleged move to North Carolina - hah!

It was back then when I realized that instead of packing all those nicely-indexed projects and craft supplies, I should face reality and only keep the things that I (1) enjoy doing the most (and can still do), and (2) that I might actually get around to finishing.

That left ... needlepoint.

And writing.

I and my creative muses will be perfectly happy concentrating on those two things. See, when you're young, you believe you really can do it all because you're not thinking about practical things like time. And maybe some of you overachievers (like my in-laws) out there actually do get it all done. I applaud you as I mutter under my breath.

So, the Mary Maxim catalog goes into the recycling pile, and until the day that I do the same, I'll be here happily writing and needlepointing (hmm, there might even be a way to do those at the same time...)

Doorbell Ready?

You know the expression, "company-ready." That means you've busted your butt to get the house looking good enough for company to see it. I don't have that problem because I have a lady who cleans the house for me. I know, I'm spoiled, you hate me, get over it.

No, the problem I have is getting myself doorbell ready. I like to putz around in the mornings in my jammies. If the doorbell rings, I can answer it without embarrassment - usually - because my jammies are PG rated. I mean, it's not like that's what I sleep in. Ahem. And besides, I've already run my hands through my hair so it looks more like fashionable faux bedhead than real bedhead, and I've had coffee and can thus focus my eyeballs. It's on days like this, and on days where I've actually dressed early and have my makeup on that the doorbell almost never rings.

But for those rare (ahem) mornings that I want to sleep in because I've been up late the night before working at my computer (ahem), that's when, invariably, someone decides to ring my doorbell. No wait - if all my PG rated jammies are in the dirty clothes hamper AND I'm sleeping late - that's when it rings. It's much easier to grab clean jammies from the dresser drawer and put them on, albeit hopping around on one foot and then the other to get them on, then pulling the top over my head (usually inside-out) on the way down the stairs, than to go to the closet and try to put an outfit together in ten seconds flat.

Know what I mean?

So now I'm thinking what I really need to do is prepare (now THERE's a concept) for such contingencies. Remember that episode of the Dick Van Dyke show when Laura was preggers, and Rob wanted to be certain, absolutely certain, that he would be ready to get her to the hospital in case her labor began in the middle of the night? He practiced getting out of bed and getting his hat and coat on in seconds flat. He was already wearing his suit and tie. The problem was the hat and coat.

Especially the hat. In those olden TV-land days, married couples "slept" in twin beds with a nightstand sentinel between them. There was skinny Rob, laying ramrod straight on his back on that skinny little bed, timing himself on how fast he could get his hat on when The Moment arrived. He placed it on the headboard and adjusted and readjusted it until he could reach up behind him, grab his hat, and have it on his head before his feet hit the floor. I know everyone will remember that classic comedic scene.

This is planning at its finest. Of course, when The Moment arrived for Rob and Laura Petrie, nothing went off as planned. But I digress. I'm going to make a plan for doorbell readiness. My plan will not include a hat. Just so you know.

Now, if I could just find out how to keep my doorbell from ringing every time someone rings the neighbor's bell...

As the worlds turn

We had our last class today, in Pooks' Blueprinting Your Novel course. This is the second class I've taken from her, the first being Writing a Novel a few years ago. I wish the class could have continued for a few more weeks - in fact that was the only "criticism" I made on the evaluation sheet - that the class was too short! (Pooks, however, may not agree - after all, she wasn't just teaching the class I was in, but another Blueprinting class in the evening, plus two other classes.)

Anyway, today was Show and Tell. We each brought things from the times and places our novels are set in. I was impressed that one person brought music (jazz) and scent (lavender mixed with things I'd never heard of and, alas, don't know how to spell, but that smelled wonderful, just the same.) Another brought photographs and a handmade artifact of the people she's writing about, and someone else brought a mock-up of her characters' MySpace pages. It was a lot of fun, and it let us in on a way to get into the world(s) of our characters. Very effective.

Speaking of worlds ... this IMVU 3-D chat thing is amazing (to me, anyway, because I'm so new to it - it might be ho-hum for the rest of you, and if so, I don't care!) You can create a world of your own for your Avatar to explore. Say ... this would be a great way to explore your characters! Pooks? You must mention this to your next class! Oh, and if anyone still has an invitation that I sent them, all you have to do is accept it and I'll get tons of points. Just thought I'd mention that. Ahem. Doesn't mean you have to actually participate or anything. :)

UPDATE:
Here's me (on the left) with Lavender on her very own IMVU pirate ship. (Why didn't I think of getting a pirate ship?) This is virtual reality, so I could have... I could have ... anything ... OMG.

Handbag Porn

Francesco Biasia $335




Inge $450




Versace $1200




Cole Haan $350


I can't afford any of these, but as any porn addict can attest, it don't hurt to look.

A Colorful Story

This is my new storyboard for Gino's Law. The first row contains the scenes for Act I, the second row is Act II to the Midpoint, and the third row has scene cards for the rest of Act II.

I tossed the cards for Act III (not written yet) because what I had planned for the final Act was just too ... sucky. I'm still workin' on it.








This is a close-up of how the cards are used. The top of the card shows the location of the scene and the bottom is the name I've chosen for it. That way, if I later want to know where the "helicopter" bit is, I can find it quickly.

The middle of the card has the conflict, indicated by ><, and over on the far right, bottom, is the emotional arc the character goes through, indicated by + for positive, - for negative.

The cards can be flipped up to view the details of each scene.

The beauty of this system is that the cards can be shuffled around or even discarded until you get it just the way you want it. What is most helpful (to me, at least) is to actually see the whole novel plotted out in front of me.

I love this, and wish I could totally take credit for the system. But no, it's adapted from Blake Snyder's Save the Cat (for screenwriting,) and from one of the people in my writer's group who came up with the accordian-style card arrangement. For a screenplay, you'd have only one card in each spot, but for a novel you need to group them in sets (for the obvious reason that a novel is much longer than a screenplay.) The black foam board was Pooks' idea. The multi-colored cards was something I chose. Some people color-code elements of their stories, but I didn't do that. I just thought the colors looked great against the black background.

There was an ongoing discussion about how best to group the cards. The guy in our group who came up with this uses little pieces of masking tape for each card. I experimented with a glue stick, but after a while, the cards started falling off. Pooks uses push pins, which is fine because she's writing a screenplay and doesn't need to have the accordian-style groups. Push pins won't work for that. Tomcat came up with the brilliant idea of using thumbtacks! I'm surrounded by genius.