As the world spins, people find more ways to do things, including a new way to post to our blog. I find it ironically funny that our progress is regressive. I cannot figure out how to do make this blog post on my own. I require another person, maybe six, to guide me, including a map, as well as encouragement. This is what an apprentice gets from someone ahead of them in the learning of a task, trade, or skill. All skills used to be passed in such a manner--since before the stone age and before the masses learned to read, or anyone learned to read or find the right u-tube video.
Last week my mother died. She was an adrenaline junkie always on the cutting edge of everything. I have lived trying to play 'catch up' all of my life. I knew she could do all of her business from her phone--including deposits or anything. It, her phone not her bank, has gone missing. Now I'm trying to find all of the ways her banking and other things were accomplished. Enter the world of banking fantasy. Her credit union could run rings around my bank. I have been immersed in technico-electronic hell.
Then I notice the date and attempt to blog as this is my regular blogging date. Suddenly, I yell for help and it comes.
How does this relate to the writing world? Because in it too, we cannot immediately know everything there is to know. There are helpers, guides, and hand-holders all along the way. Our group WARA is worth it's weight in gold for the culture we have of waving on to those zooming forward, to the other hand held out to assist those behind us on the path.
As technology shifts like the dark sands of Araby, so too must we all shift and learn a new path. I shall keep my map to the blogging spot. If this works, if not, I'll burn it and go eat chocolate.
Nina Sipes....From the middle of a wheat field in southwest Kansas.
I have discovered everyone has goals/resolutions about something:
I am going to write a story.
I am going…
Everyone has their own list of goals/resolutions (G/Rs); the only problem the lists are in their heads. So they only think about them occasionally. To keep G/Rs a reality and obtainable here are some suggestions.
Saying you are going to write a chapter a week is too broad. Better to have G/Rs with a certain number of pages per week because chapter pages can vary.
I want to write 20 pages per week and plan to write Monday through Friday. My weekend is devoted to my family and friends. I will need to write 4 pages per day or more. This does not include doing research, promoting, or being on Facebook, Twitter, blogs, and emails, loops, etc. But I must write 4 pages per day to get my writing done. That is a solid G/Rs. I know I may not get to write every day. This is the reason for a weekly goal instead of a daily one, which could drive me crazy because some days writing is just not possible – life gets in the way.
FAST GOALS: I have started doing fast goals. I look two to three days, sometimes weeks ahead, and see what I must get done. Then I prioritize them and tackle them accordingly to their due dates.
Example. If my blog must be done by the 8th of the month, I take the information I gathered on my topic and write my blog on the 5th or 6th. I like it to sit for a couple of days, then I will reread it, check content, spelling, etc., and then sent it out on its due date.
Setting G/Rs can change your life. It is not as hard as you think. We need a map or a good GPS to get us from Kansas to California in a reasonable length of time. Otherwise, we would meander from state to state. It would be a great trip with wonderful scenery but we might never reach our destination. The same applies to our G/Rs. We have to have a plan on how to get to where we want to be. Start with small G/Rs and work toward more complicated ones. Writing them down and referring to them often – daily at the beginning will speed you on your way to your Success.
Reading that there would be no set topics for this year made my heart pitter patter at a disturbing rate. What? I have to come up with my own topics? propelled a torpedo through my mind. Whatever was I to do? Whining occurred. Protest--against a majority? Then I understood. I was supposed to exercise my mind, cogitate; not procrastinate. I didn’t like it, but I got it. Where is a Dalek to exterminate one when one needs one?
Now you know I watch too much Dr. Who. It’s actually a fantastic show that encourages cogitation. Plot twists; terror; running; Daleks shrieking “Exterminate!” More plot twists, more running. Mysteries abound.
My historicals have romance but they almost always have some mystery if not a lot of mystery. That is, I believe, because I read so many mysteries and I love solving puzzles. That is what a mystery is after all. One of the mysteries in my Honour series is just who is the French Master spy Donatien and when will de la Croix and the band of heroes recognize him in all of his disguises. No Dalek’s here but some very interesting plot twists. Some are absolutely necessary to the story. For example Jamey Vincouer was supposed to come home to wed his cousin Maddie and save her but he goes MIA in the was in Spain. Before he did he save Bellaport’s life. Bellaport knows the fix Maddie is in and decides to repay the debt. Now is this a plot twist or a plot point?
Maybe someone can blog about the difference later this month. Do you use plot twists? How do you use them? Are we really happy coming up with our own topics? Even after this meandering post?
Late last month I blogged about goals. Infections and IV meds interfered with my goal of a page a day. Rather pathetic goal and I have only managed five pages since the 22nd of January. BUT that’s five pages! More than I’ve written in a year. I’m hopeful one the IV meds are done I’ll be able to BITHOK with the best of you!
Happy Valentines! Which reminds me to dig out my old Signet Regency Valentine books. In which of my Honour books did I use Valentine’s Day?
Romance past sixty looks much different than romance at sixteen. In our early years, we swooned and went after the handsome jock or cute cheerleader. Or maybe it was a megawatt smile that drew us in. It took several dates in to begin learning about the prospective mate’s personality and character.
But, past sixty, six-pack abs have given way to abs that more closely resemble pony kegs. Smooth, tanned limbs are now marred by scars, age spots and cellulite. The luxurious hair has turned silver, where there’s any hair at all. Lithe, limber bodies that allowed for spontaneous outings like rock climbing and marathon bike rides now have to accommodate synthetic joints, pill regimens and medical devices. But the smile can still reach out.
It was the smile and the articulate honesty of his profile that kept drawing me back to my beau’s profile on the dating site. Subsequent communication found him to be upbeat, funny and interesting. He was able to talk about his life and losses in an open and compassionate way, then segue into informed and intelligent conversation about current events and our many common interests. We got to know each other first by messaging, then email and phone. Our first call lasted about three hours, and when we finally met, I found him as compelling in person as in writing. A curious combination of chivalry and rogue, he continues to provoke my admiration and respect in the way he researches anything he wants to know about and provides steadfast support to his family members and friends.
He supports me in pursuit of my writing and offers helpful insight as I work out plot twists. His business background allows him to give me sage advice on most aspects of my life. He opens doors for me, at least when I remember to wait for him to do so. We talk about our exes and deceased mates with candor and understanding.
We don’t have a lot of time to spend together, because he’s retired and I’m still working. We don’t live in the same town. Business travel, writing groups, and time spent with family often separate us for weeks. But he has no problem accepting my absences. “That happens when you have extended families scattered all over like we do,” he said. “I’ll never be upset with you for spending time with your kids and grandkids.” Although he did give me a set of black pearls to let me know I was on the “black list” the first time I spent a week away with my kids. We are comfortable in each other’s kitchens and company. The other day, we chatted for an hour about our favorite childhood candies.
Romance is still alive, even if you have to check the body periodically for a pulse. Perhaps it’s the need to have someone with whom you can be yourself in perfect trust that he won’t reject you for it. Perhaps it’s the excitement of getting to know someone that deeply (and yet it takes a lifetime to know him completely). Maybe it’s knowing someone has your back—and will rub lotion on it where you can’t reach. Maybe it’s the comfort of not having to explain yourself all the time.
I can’t really describe it, but the romance exists. He may look a little rough-cut after all the pressures he’s been through, but time has turned this admitted lump of coal into a diamond of the finest quality. And there’s still that smile.