Monthly Archives: March 2009

The Freedom Tower is no more.

Apparently, the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey feels the name is not marketable. Personally, I find that hard to understand. I mean, if they called it Satan’s Tower, well, then maybe I could see the problem. But a building in the heart of New York called the Freedom Tower is difficult to market?

What will the new name be? One World Trade Center. It’s not just the address, but the name. Because that’s so much easier to market? One and Two World Trade Center were destroyed on September 11th, and repeatedly on news channels throughout the following months. They retire numbers from baseball players who have made an impact and passed on yet they don’t see a need to retire these numbers but rather reuse them?

I know. It’s just a name. And yet it’s not. It’s a symbol. It’s our landscape. It’s our first responders and other innocents. It’s our community and we fought to survive its destruction. We pay tribute there annually as a way to insure we never forget the lives lost and destruction. The “Freedom Tower” was supposed to stand above the rest as a beacon of freedom over terror.

But the name is not marketable.

Interestingly, there’s only one tenant signed on at the moment. A Chinese firm. I wonder if the Freedom moniker would have been dropped if the first lease holder were not a company from a communist country. Can’t help it. I have to wonder because the name means everything to the average New Yorker.

Who, by the way, will continue to call this building The Freedom Tower the same as we call Avenue of the Americas, Sixth Avenue.

It’s not defiance, really. It’s not a New York flip-off. It’s just New York pride and sentiment. Freedom was threatened that beautiful September day. Freedom has struggled to survive around the world since. And for New York, at least, Freedom will soar high above the city once again in the Freedom Tower which stands, as a tribute, on the ground of One World Trade Center.

I know I haven’t been here in a while and, honestly, I can’t say why. The days are just flying by and the hours in each seem to have gotten shorter.

I’ve been working on the plot of my new story and still have April 1st as my goal to start writing it. That’s something I’ve learned from my previous work – a simple yet rounded bit of plotting works well for me. I’m that cross between plotter and pantser. And April 1st is when I hope to put plotting aside and start a month of pounding out some pantser pages.

Meanwhile, we’ve been attending a variety of homeschooling activities – which, not surprisingly pick up as the weather gets less frigid. We’ve watched holocaust movies and discussed World War II. We’ve watched David Copperfield and Oliver Twist, and turned them into lessons about 19th Century England. I’ve finally learned how to turn a simple event into an opportunity for learning and realize that every day life has more lessons in it than anything we could possibly plan.

Take the shelter, for instance. The lessons there are immeasurable. Daughter is learning so much from volunteering – not only about compassion and responsibility, but also about human strengths and weaknesses. She’s learning, sadly, that more often than not, when people see something curious, they stand back and leave it for someone else to investigate or fix. Even when stepping in can save a life. Or possibly save a life. I guess we’ll never know for sure.

We lost two newborn kittens last night. That’s what this is all about. The mother rejected them and everyone, apparently, thought it was just an anomaly… a mother cat not feeding her babies. Surely, they thought, it’s just at this moment she’s not doing so. Sadly, that just wasn’t the case and no matter what we did during our shift… it was simply too late.

Mother Nature is a cruel, cruel bitch at times but never more so than when an innocent is made to suffer. I don’t know that we could have done anything to save these kittens, in fact, on many levels I know we couldn’t have. Still…  and maybe this is partly the writer in me asking… but I’ll always wonder, ‘what if’.

The query ride continues and spring remains just out of reach… two yearnings of mine are, as of yet, unfulfilled. Ah, but I have hope and to aid that hope toward possibility, I have researched more agents and stocked up on wild bird seed. When that request comes through, I want to fling open the windows and hear those songbirds sing! lol.

Until then, I write. I plot and I de-clutter my house.

Daylight savings screwed me out of a few days, but I have to say, I’m kinda likin’ it now. The days feel less dreary. The darker mornings are tough but the cats make sure I stumble through them regardless how early it still seems to be. I feed those insistent little creatures, then get on with the day… enjoying the extra hour of daylight when, just a week ago, I would have been feeling as sleepy as the sun settling in the night sky.

The crocuses are peeking through the hard earth, and grape hyacinth greens are standing tall in proud little groups. Soon, my garden will be filled with beautiful purple and yellow spring flowers and the windows in my house will be open to balmy breezes and warm-weather sounds.

Yes. I’m in love with Spring. It invigorates me, excites me, makes me want to get up and DO. We’ll be taking our bikes to the park for lunch and lessons again soon. We’ll be enjoying our tiny yard, fresh air and the company of friends.

Though funds are tight for us and everyone else, there’s one thing we can count on and that’s the newness,  the hope, the fresh-start feeling spring seems to bring.

I fell off my query horse yesterday. Took a nasty tumble. Wounded my pride and my muse. But they’re both fine now… sorta… and I’m back on that persnickety horse, somewhat ready for the rest of this unsteady and indeterminable course.

Yes. That means my query was rejected. 

And yes… that means I’m sending out more queries. However… not before I revised the original query I sent. I feel very good about how it reads now and will have no doubts when the rejections flow in that they have nothing to do with a poor attempt at selling myself but simply with the fact my idea did not snatch an agent’s overworked attention.

And so, yes again. I’ve made peace with rejection number one and have already sent out query numbers two and three. I am also still plotting my next story, hoping to keep my focus where it counts – on creating not contemplating. And every time I wonder, “Should I send out another query?” I’ll remind myself of something DH said…

“If you don’t do something, then you’ve done nothing.”

He has his moments, but gee, he’s swell sometimes.

I haven’t been keeping up with my blog. Used to be, every other day I was here posting and every day I was visiting other blogs. I’ve fallen out of the blog routine… but for pretty good reason, I think. I’m plotting.

I’ve chatted here often about the various workshops I’ve taken and how they inspire me. Storyboarding, W-Plot, Character Diamond, Fatal Flaws and Book-in-a-Week. Well, I’ve sorted those workshops into a specific build-upon order and as I work through them, I review what I’ve already done so I keep true to the characters’ personalities, needs, desires, downfalls.

That brings me to the Fatal Flaw. Laurie Schnebly-Campbell gives this class and it is one I cannot recommend enough. I understand everyone plots differently and what works for me might not work for you. BUT… what I find about this particular set of lessons and assignments is that they build the character in astonishing ways. Showing the needs they have and why they have them. Showing how the character will react to overcome those needs or to fulfill them. It brings out their quirky habits and explains them in a way so logical, you can’t help but remain true to the character as you plot out the events in the story.

And yes, that’s the part I’m up to. Plotting the events. I’ve got the characters down – and am thrilled and amazed at how everything fits. The hero is one way and is headed down a certain path. The heroine is another way and headed down her own path. Those two paths cross every now and then. Sometimes hero and heroine just breeze by each other (in scenes of understanding) and other times they smack into one another (conflict) and neither will give up the path without a fight. Thing is, the individual paths they’re on will meet further down the line and continue as one. Whether they walk side by side on that path or fight for the lead is up to them… and me. And the Fatal Flaws.

Knowing the characters this intimately will, I hope, help me form the events in their story in such a way as to challenge them, keep the reader intrigued and fulfill the needs of all as they grow, change and find love.

Yes. I, myself, am falling in love. With my newest characters… though I do still love the one I just left behind. Ah. Such is the fickle life of a romance writer.

It’s only been a week, one day and 90 minutes since I sent my query to my dream agent, yet it feels like months. I know, I know. It can be several weeks before I hear anything. I’m just hoping that particular ’anything’ I hear is a request for more.

I confess… I only queried one agent. I know putting ‘all of your eggs in one basket’ isn’t the best idea. But, sometimes, there’s simply one basket you like more than the rest. And so… you give it your utmost attention.

I should, however, be spending part of this waiting time researching other agents. I know. And I keep telling that to myself but I’m not acting on it. Does this mean there’s a part of me ignoring probability? A part of me blissfully ignorant to the fact my work might not be requested? <gasp>

Methinks… yes… there is a blissfully – willfully – ignorant side of me thinking – hoping – that very thing.

And so… the waiting continues. And my nails become shorter as I nibble them down. And my cupboards become bare… as I nibble there, too. My fingers, however, remain limber as they work with my muse in tune to the blissful ignorance of their host, and dance upon my keyboard in an effort to create the next work for which I will soon query. Wait. Query. Wait…

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been hearing songbirds in the wee morning hours. I wake to them and smile. I can’t say how much I love that pure and happy sound. It makes me think of balmy breezes, blowing window sheers and quiet warm-weather nights.

I heard the songs just yesterday morning – despite the 22 degree wind-chilled air.

This morning, I heard nothing.

I heard nothing partly because the birds weren’t around, partly because the heavy overnight snowfall cushioned all sound, and partly because… who’d want to sing on a cold dreary morning like this?

Snow can be beautiful. Virgin white. smooth and fluffy. Or it can be terrifying. Ice dimpled, wet and heavy.

This morning we have a mix of both. Unfortunately, the smooth fluffy stuff is on the grass and tops of cars… at least it looks that way. And the ice dimpled sludge is in the street making it very near impossible for cars to get up the hill in front of my house.

Well, if I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself today for sure, I do now. I’m going to shovel… and hope no one hits my car… though during the night someone, apparently, came close.

Yeah… that’s my car parked by the tree and that’s… someone else’s car… stuck on the icy snow in front of me at an angle toward the street.  Yikes. Wonder just how it got in that position. I have to admit, I’m kinda glad I didn’t see it happening. 

I suppose it could have been worse. My car could have been parked on this street…

 [youtube="http://www.youtube.com/v/-J3zO_yZnN8&hl=en]

What’s it like by you? Warm balmy breezes or icy winds and white skies?