Mighty Fortress

The other day I went out to run errands. The garage door has become more and more doubtful lately. There was the sound of the rollers straining under the bend in the panels where it had been kissed with the truck bumper, more than a year ago.

I backed out of the garage, pressed the button on my visor, the door lurched and stuck. I can't exactly drive off and leave the garage door open, even though the house door is locked. I come up with an idea of fixing it, but decide it best to put the car back into the garage in the event it isn't a good idea.

I opened the single garage door, knowing if my plan works it will suddenly get much darker in the garage, and I wanted good light for my work. I pulled the red handle hanging by a red cord from the drive chain on the track, allowing the door to move freely - if it wasn't stuck.

Being a bit height challenged, I am proficient with using long handled things for purposes they weren't intended. With the push broom in hand, I pushed the bulging garage door panel back into place.

The bind freed, it immediately began to come down without restraint. Knowing that grabbing for a gravity driven double door size metal garage door on a rush meeting with the ground could take a hand off in a wink, I pushed the broom up to slow its descent.

Once I had a bit of control, wedging the broom handle under my arm for leverage against the weight of the door, while releasing the grip of one hand, I pushed the garage door opener that I had hung from my jeans' pocket. The motor pushed the thingy along the track and engage the part the red knobby thing had released and the garage door closed as it should.

The problem still existed that my car and I were on the wrong side of the door to run errands. So (this is the good part), I pushed the remote and raised the door almost fully, stopping it before it could hang up again where the bent part had to round the track to retract parallel to the ceiling.

One of the few things I'm taller than is my Mustang. I measured the clearance ratio by walking to the door. I had to dip my head slightly, but figured the car would clear nicely, even though the radio antenna would touch. Back in the car and ever so slowly out the garage, I pressed the remote again and closed the door without a thought to whether I could put my car back inside upon return.

Needless to say, we have a new garage door.

Here we go again!

If I heard it once, I've heard two things about the trilogy a million times.

One is: Please don’t take this personally Nadine – I still prefer third person past tense. That’s just me.

No it isn't 'just you'. Lot's of people feel that way. It’s what everyone is used to because that is what the industry produces. Humans like the familiar over the unfamiliar.

Third person POV is the mainstay of the industry. Why? Because it is easier to write in third person. Get stuck? Easy, just have another character 'think' the answer or drop it in through the narration so the reader knows long before the main character (MC). That way when the ends aren't tied up very good and the MC figures out something too easily, the reader doesn't question it.

It is less risky to get submerged into the story line when it is a bit removed, as in third person, less discomfort for the reader. Some will also argue that they can get into the characters better in third person. I offer again, that is because that is what readers have been exposed to all their reading life. It’s safe. The reader can stay one step removed from emotional involvement with the third person voice.

But that isn't real, you can't know someone by only observing them and being told by someone else who that person is. You can't know people intimately by another person's view of that person. It is only an opinion. You know a person by what you experience of them, and in writing, you can know them more completely by seeing the story through 'their eyes'.

Kathryn's Beach started out as third person, past tense. It was too detached emotionally to do what I wanted to do with the character. If you read the books, you know the action is not enough to carry the story. What keeps a person reading is seeing life through Kathryn's eyes.

Third person is actually a more elementary style, easier to write than first person. (Boy that statement should get people writing comments! Whew!) Third person is safer to write: 1) it is what 'everyone' does; 2) easier for the reader to know things the MC doesn't know, so easier to write - requiring less literary devices (and actual writing ability).

When the plane went down in KB, I (Nadine) wanted to show what was going on at Karen's house. Can't do it in first person POV. I had to make Karen come over to Kathryn's house and use dialogue. Which, in the end, was more powerful for them to share the moment than to do it individually in two locations, bouncing the reader back and forth across town.

Second thing I get all the time: I could feel there was a lot of YOU in there!! (even though I don’t know you that well).

Everyone says that because it is first person. I try not to say publicly anything less than complimentary about Kathryn. If Kathryn was real, I'd probably like her, but she would also get on my nerves. There are a lot of things I don't like about her. I don't think we would be close friends, not BFF.

Storm Surge said a lot more than the other two books. It was more dramatic and better for it. You need more of that.

Storm Surge is a richer book because it is the third in the story of Kathryn's growth. It was hard to keep Kathryn 'broken' and move the story in KB. I kept wanting to write her stronger, but then lots of the story would not happen if she was a stronger person. If someone is a 'recluse' then they have to be written with a narrow view rather than global view (people-wise, not geography). As she begins to heal/grow in HT, the secondary characters can come out of the shadows. Then in SS she is kicked back to her insecure self, but shakes it off faster than she would have if all that had happened to her in KB.

It is a matter of writing style. This stuff is bound to happen when a writer writes outside the norm. I bet people think I'm Victoria in Red Planet Revolt, and I guarantee that I am not from the future.

http://nadinelaman.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-cant-get-into-it-that-much.html

Twitter NOVEL

The other day, I joked about turning my received texts into a book.

Someone has sent me a twitter novel link. This novel is being written on twitter and is 140 characters or less per entry.

Curious? Look here. https://twitter.com/spiritghost

No, it is NOT me doing this. I promise. Yes, I do know who it is. I'm under oath not to tell.

I think it is cool in a nicely weird way. Let's help this person with this project. Please pass this link on to your email list. Oh, and I guess you people with twitter accounts can and should tweet about it.

So twitter this link, post it on Facebook, mention it on your blogs and newsletters, and all the other places you haunt. Add "Twitter Novel project: https://twitter.com/spiritghost" to your signature line on your email. (Life isn't all about you, help this other writer.)

Let's see what we can do to launch this. Let's see if social networking really works. You know, I need convincing. Now is your chance to make a believer out of me - I dare ya.

Dyslexic Football Coach

Dyslexia is in the sports news. Even though football is very popular in our house, I'm not likely to read much about the NFL. It just isn't my sport. But I thought I'd post this about dyslexia since some people think it is wild that I am a novelist and horribly dyslexic.

Keep in mind that being dyslexic does not mean that we can't do things, it just means that some things that deal with letters are weird for us. Many studies indicate that dyslexic people have average to above average IQs. I donno 'bout that. What I do think is that we might be more analytical than some of the population. We have to figure things out on our own. We look for patterns and figure out other ways to compensate.

I keep thinking that someday I will post a piece that I haven't corrected, just so you can see how it would be if I didn't have my finger glued to the backspace button. Delete-delete-delete...

The HUGE link is at the bottom of the page. I've been told a million times how to make them into short links, but I just don't get it. I understand the words of the instructions. It just doesn't translate into doing it. (I'm going to be so disappointed if that link doesn't work.)

http://nfl.fanhouse.com/2009/06/23/rex-ryan-reveals-he-has-dyslexia/?icid=mainhtmlws-maindl4link4http%3A%2F%2Fnfl.fanhouse.com%2F2009%2F06%2F23%2Frex-ryan-reveals-he-has-dyslexia%2F

(OH hey, 6 months until Christmas! Just thought I'd throw that in.)

DG sighting

I have a tendency not to wear shoes in the house. I like the smooth, cool feel of the tiles on my feet. The other night, I went out for something on the patio. I'm not a huge fan of stepping on 'things' unexpected. I turned on the light and went out.

Our patio doors are double doors, both opening from the center of the doorway. The twin doors are about 9 foot in height. (Honest, I have to get out the ladder to wash the windows in the doors.) The windows run from the top to the floor, surrounded by about 6 inches of thick wooden frame. The whole idea is to provide a good view of the pool from inside the house.

As I was coming back to the door, I saw a lizard upside down - above my head by at least a foot - on the wooden frame part of the door. We both froze in place. He had a tail about a third of the length it should be for the size of his body. It was broad at the base and quickly tapered to a point, more like a horney toad or desert tortoise's tail than a lizard tail.

I knew it was DG (Desert Ghost) the little lizard who was in my jeans the other day. The way he motionlessly stared at me, I think he recognized me too. It wasn't a fond glare in his red eyes.

When I spoke, he moved a step. Then stopped. Locked eyes again. I almost felt intimidated by him, but I think it wasn't as much fear as still feeling guilty about his tail falling off when I flipped him out of my jeans.

I told him to stay put when I opened the door. Like a child, of course, he didn't listen to me. I turned to look before shutting the door, and sure enough, he had moved so that two of his feet were on the edge where the door would shut on him. His tail, such as it was, turned toward me, as if to make sure I saw what I had done to him on our last encounter.

No one in the house was awake to call for help. I went for the fly swatter with the plan of schooching him away from the hinge area -- possibly flicking him off the door completely. Lizards run very quickly, in case you didn't know. I intended to be careful not to flick him far enough to land on the pool deck. I didn't want him to run into the pool and cause yet another rescue with the net.

It was a stand-off. He wouldn't budge with a gentle nudge of the edge of the fly swatter. I tried to explain his position of danger, if I shut the door - which I did intend to do. He whirled around and stared at me again, then dropped to the floor. With the door open, that meant he was on the inside of the threshold.

I was earnest in my desire not to have him inside the house, whether he was a good spirit (good luck) or not. My memory of the pant leg encounter is still too fresh to be inviting. With a quick scoop of the fly swatter I helped him over the threshold and quickly shut the door, locking both locks.

He ran under a chair and twisted around to look back at me looking at him through the glass pane. His stump of a tail, his searing eyes, my rapidly beating heart - we both froze.

I'm relieved to know he is still alive and his tail is growing back. Yet I am all the more concerned about my friend Inez and I going off to the mountains to camp near her Pueblo in New Mexico - neither of us like creepy-crawly things.

I'll keep you posted on how that turns out, if I don't chicken out going.

Writing: Another book idea

Yes, yes, yes...I am supposed to be writing Act Like You Mean it, and I am. My newsletter (next week) will tell you how far along I am on that WIP (work in progress).

However, I was thinking... (This is about to get scary, buckle up.) There are a few blogs that have been converted into books. I'll grant that IS writing. But ever since I heard about the book of twitterings, I have had a wee bit o' difficulty embracing that as writing. That is about as much writing as collecting the clever bits of prose from the loo stalls in public facilities.

While I was texting my boys, I wondered: what if some of the better texts were collected and called a book. I keep the good ones on my phone, the ones that remind me of special moments.

Here are some of texts from my phone:

"Goin 2 uk 2moro 4 2wks. Wel hav cofe wen i get bac"

"Computer case" (Yeah, I had to call to see what that one meant.)

"Thank you so much for the Indian bracelet. Its lovely. Big hug."

"Did u see me" (on television - the Jerry Lewis Telethon.)

"If you were going to wash tennis shoes would you wash them by their self?"

"Opening Jeep." Followed by, "Starting engine."

"Hey they fired _______ last night." (Cue to call the other person.)

"So someone hit my truck and there is no damage to it but it left a big mark on her car." (About a hit-and-run driver.)

"My advice sucks...do what feels right to you." (about a book contract)

"Yes it was pretty awesome. I wasn't sure i could make myself go out but the training kicked in and out i went." (About military Jump school)

And my favorite from macho Army guy... "I love you mom."

Book material? Nah, probably not. Good memories though. Do you keep some old texts?

Friendship Award

Ella, blogging The Clock Monkey, shared the "Let's Be Friends" award she received. Thank you, Ella, I accept your friendship and the award.

Blogs that receive the Let’s Be Friends Award are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers.

Now, it is my honor and privilege to pass on this award to eight other bloggers:

Carolyn 'Carrie' Sheppard, fiction author, blogging The Somewhat Odd Life of a Folk Musician http://ukfolkie.blogspot.com/

Jeannine Garsee, YA author for Bloomsbury USA, blogging Elusive Sanity http://onegrapeshy.livejournal.com/

Carolyn Howard-Johnson, fiction & non-fiction author and poet, blogging War, Peace, Tolerance and Our Soldiers http://warpeacetolerance.blogspot.com/

June Austin, non-fiction author, blogging Podding Along Nicely http://juneaustin.blogspot.com/

Dr. Nidhi Dhawan, fiction writer, blogging Incontinent Pen! http://incontinentpen.blogspot.com/

Joy Collins, fiction author, blogging Joyful Thoughts http://joycollins.blogspot.com/

Marsha Stewart, professional photographer and writer, blogging Prairie http://prairie.typepad.com/my_weblog/

Susan Gabriel, fiction author, blogging Susan Gabriel author http://www.susangabriel.com/blog

Barbara, fiction writer, blogging Everything Victorian http://myvictorianbooks.blogspot.com/

Anita Davison, fiction author, blogging The Disorganised Author http://thedisorganisedauthor.blogspot.com/

AND HONORARY MENTION, Ella, fan fiction writer, blogging The Clock Monkey http://theclockmonkey2.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-first-award.html

Congratulations, best wishes.

It's a JEEP thing

When you're the mom of boys, you know lots of un-girly things. My oldest son and I were having an enthusiast conversation about his JEEP CJ-5 (it's older than he is). Seems the electrical problems are nearing their end.

He had been to see his favorite mechanic to discuss an issue. I don't know what the issue was, because he was delighted that the head mechanic HAD TO look at the work said owner had done to said Jeep, and as I was told, was very impressesed with the new, hand-made wiring harness. (Proud Mamma here.)

There are, in fact, only three more tasks remaining on the electrical project. It seems that he NEEDS (translation: wants) to find an AMC oil pressure gage because the aftermarket one just isn't right...something-something-something about plastic in a place that should be metal, Dude.

I look up to his excited face and said, "Did you just call me, 'Dude'?"

Without missing a beat, he says with a big grin, "Well, it wasn't the standard issue 'DUDE' that means 'dumb sh*t'. It was the special 'Mom Dude'."

He waits, smiling sweetly.

I look up again, "You know I'm not buying it, don't you?"

He got tickled and left. I heard him chuckling all the way to the garage. I never did find out what the 'issue' was or what were the other two aftermarket things that NEED to be replaced.

God, I love my boys!

http://nadinelaman.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-jeep-thing.html

War! War! What is it good for? (Sing along)

Another of my sons is completing his paperwork to join the military, and a third is thinking about it. What do they want? To be educated. Not to kill. Not to be killed. It is a simple quest to attend university in a bad economy, if they live long enough.

Suddenly I hate everyone who put our children into this war. As horrific as the attack on the twin towers was, their deaths will not be undone by all the deaths that have followed nor all the deaths yet to come. An undeclared war, yet a long ago declared won.

I vote that we send the politicians (on all sides), regardless of their age now, who brought us to this end. Send the men and women who met in secret to lie about what they knew and didn't know. Suit 'em up with an 80 pound field pack and send them to the heart of the fight.

On the short string of my anger comes those who have foolishly wrecked the economy - ours and our global neighbors. Greed. I hope they live long enough to see their hand in other's misery. I hope the martini lunches in the Caribbean and the excessive bonuses will be weighed against every flaw in their actions, from Reaganomics to the recent ill-planned bailout of the guilty, causing others to lose their job, home, retirement, hope.

My father, God rest his soul, was in the US Army in both WWI and WWII. He lied about his age in the first war. They had to know, but that cowboy was a great shot (either hand) and a fantastic horseman. My father-in-law, God rest his soul, was in the US Marines in WWII. One in the European Theatre the other in the Pacific. They were destined to never meet.

I'm not anti-American. I'm proud of where I was born. I'm just tired of wars that history can't explain the defining moment that required so many to die. What is it in our nature that makes killing so easy? Where have all the statesmen gone?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DIp7ew_z8I

BUZZ-BUZZ, BOOK BUZZ

SEEKING SARA SUMMERS by Susan Gabriel is one of the most engaging novels I've read lately.

Susan Gabriel perfectly captures the twenty (plus) year marriage of most of the women I know, including me. The writing is superb, and for those who must have third person POV, here it is -- well done.

Sara's self-rediscovery is encouraging, though her life takes on a twist that most women won't experience. It is hopeful that the cautious-caretaking-zipyourcoat-fastenyourhelmet-Iloveyou mom can learn to breathe easy again and find her forgotten self after the kids are launched 'safely' into adulthood. I only hope we are as brave as Sara.

Seeking Sara Summers is a great read and if I did book reviews, I'd give it a million stars for courage and hope.

Find signed copies here: http://www.susangabriel.com/