Writing Prompt Wednesdays - Lunacy

Belief: Bathing in cold water would make you insane

This episode of Writing Excuses talked about some crazy Victorian ideas - like how women were not allowed to learn knitting because it would cause their brains to overheat. So I looked some real reasons people were put in sanitoriums way back when. Bathing in cold water is one of those ideas I decided to treat as fact for this submission.

For a list of the writing prompts I share, please see my Writing Prompt page :)

Not letting fear conquer all

So a while back I wrote a big long post all about fear and facing fear and not letting it conquer. Turns out I'm a humungous hypocrite.

Fear is something that took hold of the reigns in my brain and halted the horse, cart, and tackled my willpower. It's still sitting here like a toad on my chest. (Seriously, I'm honestly fearing I might have pneumonia despite all my essential oils and self-foot-zoning. I am SICK.) Oh looky, there's that stupid fear word again.

Back in January, I volunteered to do some artwork for a couple of different friends. One was to do caricatures for the cub scouts for their Blue & Gold Banquet. The other was to do five or six drawings of women from the Book of Mormon for a banquet. In addition to that I was madly trying to finish a novel.

I did the caricatures, no problem. I enjoy doing them, but I don't really consider them *real* art because they aren't hard for me. Well... ok, to be honest, sometimes I do struggle to get them to look right, but more often than not, I am pleased with how they turn out. They're cartoons.

But the charcoal drawings... those I've put off and put off and come up with every excuse to not do them YET, and now I'm down to the wire and HAVE to get them done. And I will, don't worry. But they scare me.

Why? Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that my drawings, the charcoal portraits that mean so much to me, will suck. That people will laugh, will hate them, will think I'm crazy for thinking I'm an artist, and that all that time I spent in art school getting my degree was a waste of time.

Yeah, yeah, I know. But hey, it's how I feel. Same thing with this novel I'm writing. I love it. I love the characters. I love the story. I honestly think it's a good story. But I'm afraid to finish it. I think I'm a fraud, a poser, a nobody in a world surrounded by awesomeness.

Yep.

Ok, so everyone feels this way once in a while. And it's true, you can't please everyone. And there will always be someone to look at something I've done to tell me ways to improve it or what they'd have done differently. Art is subjective like that. Hey, on my good days, I'm all about hearing those thoughts so I can improve what I do or see things from a different perspective. Feedback is good for that.

It's stupid to sit here and think everyone will hate something I HAVEN'T FINISHED YET.

So coughing up a lung and having no energy at all, I sat down and faced my fear. Because if people are going to judge something, I should actually produce something for them to judge, right? So. I loaded up on drugs. I prayed. I prayed a LOT. I got a priesthood blessing from my neighbor on his lunch break. I kept a vial of essential oil nearby to rub on my lungs and nose and sinuses to keep the air passages open. And I set up my easel and got to work anyway.

And lo, this was born:

And now after looking at it, I need to re-think the sizes and layout. I'm not sure the journey of the mother is clear from baby to sending him off to war.

Normally it doesn't take me all day to do a drawing, but I'm sick. And I have kids. So. Take that for what you will, but dammit, I persisted. And I had a small miracle. While I drew, I rarely coughed so hard it hurt. My arm didn't hurt to work. I felt energized. And I had the same experience drawing today's picture that I have when I draw portraits. I felt a communication open up, and I felt the emotion and the love that these mothers have for their babies, and I cried while working. Not from frustration, but from pure emotion.

Designer in me is screaming that the bottom pic should be the largest, that top left should be smallest, that the spear stands out too much, fix the hand/arm, etc. The artist in me is jumping up and down in joy for DOING SOMETHING!! So, I'll be re-drawing this to correct it and make it right. BUT, yo, throw a parade for me. I faced a fear today. And that's a big deal.

Why do I call that a miracle? Because as soon as I'd get up to get a drink or move around, the 'blech' feeling would take over again. As soon as I'd pick up the charcoal and start working, it was gone. Miracle in my book. Which says to me that God knows who I am, and what's important to me, and that He believes in me, even when I don't.

And here it is, 11:30pm, I've been at this since 1pm today, and picture one is done.  Well.  No. It's done enough that I can look at it and figure out what I need to do differently to make it *right*. Nothing like posting something on the internet to make you look at it critically and say, "hmm... how could I make it better?"  But that's what roughs are for.

Am I feeling better overall? Only when drawing. I have a suspicious feeling that if I decided to spend the next hour working on my novel, I'd probably feel just fine for that, as well.  I should... that novel needs some love. And I should take Chuck Wendig's advice and finish what I start. (I should note: Content Warning for Chuck Wendig. If you're going to read his entire post and you dislike swearing, don't. If you're just going to read the initial graphic, you'll be fine.)

So now I just need to kick this fear in the tuckuss and send it on it's way. I'm so very grateful for friends and family who love me and believe in me and help me have the courage to continue trying even when I'm afraid to.

Drawing practice

I was testing out charcoal on various brown paper surfaces today to make sure I could accomplish what was in my head for my current client.

I think I found the paper I like. It reacts different than I expected, but it has a great tooth and blends well.

Writing Prompt Wednesday - Finishing

The Writing Excuses team is fabulous. I love them oh so very much.

For a list of the writing prompts I share, please see my Writing Prompt page :)

Grandma = Love

This morning I read my email, catching up from the last couple of days. (It's Girl Scout Cookie season. What else can I say?) I anticipated the normal pile of junk, the notifications about cookie booths, reminders of deadlines, and cookie orders. What caught and held my attention was the message from my aunt that my grandma is not doing so well. She's been fatigued for the last month.

Now, if you don't know my grandma, hearing that an 87 year old woman is tired is not surprising. If you know my grandma, you know she never admits to not feeling well.

Grandma in the 1980's, before her car accident. Standing tall and proud.

Grandma believes in the power of positive thinking. Therefore anytime she doesn't feel good, she thinks about how great it will feel when she's done what needs doing, and keeps moving. She's always kept moving.

Writing Prompt Wednesday - Random Aspect Generator

Writing Prompts

Due 3/1/13: This week I decided to take the Chuck Wendig writing challenge with a random number generator and a list. My results: erotic fairy tale in a mall with a puzzle-box. 

For the record, I don't usually read or write erotica, so this is waaaaay outside my comfort zone. So I made good use of metaphors.  

For a list of the writing prompts I share, please see my Writing Prompt page :)

Mountains

Sometimes the mountains talk to me. Yes, I know this sounds weird, but I am going to admit it anyway. (I think the wind talks even more than the mountains, but that's a whole 'nother story.)

Today the brilliant color of everything caught my attention while I was driving, so as soon as I got home and stacked the Girl Scout cookie boxes in the front room, my son and I went for a walk with camera and tri-pod in tow to capture the blues and whites that fill the background of my window. Today it was more about the mountains and clouds than just the mountains.

It's difficult to put into words the images and ideas that spring to mind when the clouds lay on top of the mountains like this. There's something magical about it. Anything could be under there. I used to imagine that maybe the clouds were the tips of the mountains, and the snow was piled on top like big scoops of ice cream. Especially when the sky is such a beautiful blue, it looks like a warm summer's day, the white on the mountain simply melted vanilla goodness running down into the valley.

Nowadays I tend to think that maybe there are grand cities and meetings of old warrior-gods hidden under the opaque canopy so far up there.

Do you ever see images and faces in mountains?

If you'll pardon the power lines in these next shots, let me share with you some other images that haunt my dreams. I don't know if you'll see what I see, but I am convinced there is more than just dirt, glacial poop, or piles of rocks here.

A critique!

Sometimes I wish I had a live-in editor to help me see the forest for the trees when I write. And with all of the tips, tricks, tools, and guidelines I've been given, sometimes it's hard to know where to start.

Well, now I have a starting point. The fabulous Julie Coulter Bellon used my first 500 words as a post in her First Page Friday series. I LOVE her feedback. Not only does she point out how to fix some things, but she gives me some great advice on how to implement the tools I've been given.

Don't get me wrong, I love my writing group. Their feedback is awesome, too. But it's fun to get feedback from a pair of fresh eyes who can say specifically what works and what doesn't.

Pardon me while I SQUEEEEEEEE!!!  :) Yes, I have a lot of work to do to make this fun and readable and engaging, but I am excited about it!

So if you want your first page critiqued, head on over to her site. And if you want to see the first-draft of my first page before I revise and polish, polish, polish, go take a look :)

Maybe soon I'll have guts enough to apply to J.R. Johansson's Forging Fridays for a query critique! (That's much more scary).

LTUE report

Life The Universe & Everything 31 is a writing conference in Provo, Utah. Very affordable for a three-day conference. No, seriously. $30 for a three-day conference is a FARGAIN BARGAIN, people!! Writers such as David Farland/Wolverton, L.E. Modesitt, Howard Taylor, Larry Correia, Megan Whalen Turner, and Rachel Ann Nunes were there on the writing panels.

From 9 a.m. to 7pm for three days I filled my brain to capacity listening to panels and taking notes. My notes look something like this:

My sketchbook filled up on Thursday, so Friday I resorted to an actual notebook.  With lines. (blech.) Then I visited Carter Reid's booth. Not only does he do the funnest zombie web-comic ever, but he sells sketchbooks! Total lifesaver. He autographed and sketched in my brand-spanking-new zombie sketchbook as well as drawing me a little zombie-bust when he autographed "Space Eldritch." Can I geek out about this too much? I think not. (Yup, total fan-girl...)

So after I got a new sketchbook, my notes looked like THIS: (no lines!)

I stayed at the hotel which was very nice on the gas budget, and I was sharing the room with a good friend as well! How awesome is that? My biggest commute consisted of walking a block to find dinner one night :) Yummy little pizza spot in one direction, a Chinese restaurant in the other direction - who fed us so much we had two meals of leftovers - and a little hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop called Sammy's that is to-die-for. Sooooo good.

So I geeked-out first at Carter Reid. And then I geeked out at Howard Tayler - can't be helped, he's awesome - over the calendar. He sketched a mini-Schlock-in-a-mug for me. And oh my goodness, the squeals of joy when my 12 yr old saw it. :) And a surprise gift from a friend? A Tagon's Tough's t-shirt. Can you say comfy? I can. Yep. Good stuff right there. If you don't listen to Writing Excuses and you want to be a writer, get over there and download those podcasts. Right now.

I met a lot of great people, picked an editor's brain, and probably played fan-girl too much to some of the people I twitter-stalk and admire.

I went to Sandra Tayler's panel on Thursday, which I loved. She has typed up her notes from her presentation. Go read them! This presentation really hit home for me, because I struggle with finding the time - or feeling guilty for taking the time - to be creative. Actually, just read her blog, period. She is inspiring and full of all kinds of wisdom. It was an absolute honor to meet her in person. Her book "Cobble Stones" from her blog is wonderful.

The Reality of Dreaming

"Photo by Chalmers Butterfield"

A few years ago I had a dream that has stuck with me over the years, more like a memory than a dream. It felt so real that when I woke up, I wrote it down. Not to make sure I remembered, but to have a record to compare against when the day came that it did happen.

It was a dream about the future. Not anything surreal like flying cars or anything like that. No. It was me living a day in the life of being old. 

I couldn’t tell you my exact age in the dream, all I know is that I was old. My eyesight had faded to mere pinpricks because most of my peripheral vision was gone or completely blurry. I had to concentrate to focus on any one thing. My hips hurt like nothing else I have experienced when I tried to walk, not even the pain I had when pregnant. This was old cartilage grinding on old bone, and it hurt.