Research

I'm working on a story that has all kinds of things in it that I don't know anything about. Because I can't always write what I know. I don't know all that much. I'd run out of ideas pretty fast. But there would be a lot of food in my stories.

Um, there is, in fact, a lot of food in my stories.

But now I get to research some stuff. Like gymkhana. Do you know what that is? It's sort of rich-kids' rodeo. Remember that time I told you about my neighbor's horse? Well, she's a high-school rodeo competitor (the neighbor, not the horse*) and I've seen her do some cool races. When she was about 12 I watched her compete in this event where she did some crazy racing around water barrels and starting and stopping her horse and all manner of horsey-tricks. It was called gymkhana, which even this blogging program knows is a real word, spelled correctly (and maybe I was the only one who didn't know that before) and I am totally using that in my story. Fun, huh?

So I write a bit, and then research a lot, and then write a bit more. Maybe I'll have to go over to the Pony Palace** and watch some competitions. And eat scones or popcorn or some other carnival-type food***, because that goes along with rodeo in my head. And all that time, I can consider myself "working" - you know, working. Working. (Insert giggles here.)

Ah, research. Love it.

*except, apparently, also the horse. You know what I mean.

**really. That's what it's called. It's a county rodeo facility, I think. And that may not be the precise and exact name of the facility, but that's what "everyone" around here calls it.

***but not corn-dogs. I have my limit. I've never (to my knowledge) eaten a corn dog, and I'd really like it to stay that way.

The End

And tomorrow my life changes, once again, forever. (Dramatic, much?)

This is the last day before my last baby heads to school. So we are going out to play.

And tomorrow, there will be much writing, with phones turned off and windows blinded. But for right now, I'm off to play.

We're In This Together

Oooh. Yesterday morning I woke early-early and worked on a story for/with a friend. It's sort of a collaboration thing. She has a great historical nugget, and I put it in my words. If I do say so my own self, it is beautiful.

We have some kinks to work out, and some details to process (kind of like any time anyone writes anything) and it's different doing it together. There are some details that I think should be different, but we'll work it out.

I read it out loud to Husband when he got home from morning basketball, and I choked up a little. That is something that I don't do every day. Especially about words I wrote myself. Isn't that fun?

So, the thing is that collaboration can work. And I am excited to do it, especially with this brilliant friend who has such an ear for a perfect story. I'll keep you in the loop...

Spare Me the Drama

Title Drama is ebbing. Hooray.

There are such good, brilliant people working at my publisher's house (Hi, Lisa, Heidi, Emily!), and sometimes I just take their word for stuff. You know, like I would with my parents back when I was suggestible to their direction. Sure, okay, if you say so, I'll go with you.

But with this title change, the more I thought about it, the more it simply didn't fit. I did some rewriting, threw in a few references that would tie the book in to the title, but you know what? It felt false. It felt like I was using the title (which wasn't mine, and wasn't particularly pertinent) to sell the book, the way I would if the title were brilliant but the book were just... okay. Do you know what I'm saying?

So late Friday evening, we came to a solution. I almost said "to a compromise" but that suggests that we both lowered our expectations to meet in the middle. In fact, I think we came up with something better than any of my previous ideas and better than theirs. So, without any further whinging and moaning, here is the new and improved title for my book which will come out either in February, in May, or not at all:

THE RIDICULOUS ROMANTIC OBSESSIONS OF SARAH HASTINGS

a romantic comedy by Becca Wilhite

Want to tell me you hate it? Just wait a while, okay? I'm still re-learning how to breathe without a paper bag.

New Title

I got a note from Publisher last night letting me know that they'd decided on a new title for my book. I don't know if I'm allowed to share it yet, so I won't, but let me say that it's causing a little work on my part.

And we all know by now how I feel about work.

They've given me a title that ties my story to a specific person, time period, and style (okay, Madame Jane Austen, to be exact). Which is a little funny, because I never once mentioned Miss Austen in my book. Not once.

But that is all changing, starting this morning at 5.30 when I started revising again. I remember telling y'all that I like (love) revisions, and it's still true. But, you know, more work.

Work.

So I'd better get to it. More later, when I have it.

My Job - Updated

I have removed this post, because a friend I referenced here found it offensive. I am very sorry about that. I never intended any offense, as I told her as soon as she approached me. I apologize if the post offended anyone else.

Writing Again

Sort of. Mostly for the past month, I haven't written much longer than a blog post. Ack. It hasn't really been in me. I know, I know... a woman of character writes whether or not she's feeling it. Need we mention, once again, that I am not a woman of character?

But school starts tomorrow, so I got up earlier than usual, made a delicious German Pancake breakfast, and got out a previously-abandoned draft of a novel to peck at. I read it over while breakfast baked, and when it was time to wake the Kids (for the trial run of getting out of bed before nine) I didn't want to leave it.

Wow. Is that fun? Um, yes.

It is totally different for me. A little magical (just a little) and a little spiritual (but not religious*) and fairly formal. Maybe mystical, at least in its first draft. Not funny. Not sarcastic. I wonder, a little, if I can pull it off. But it's also only beginning. I think the draft has 8K words. So there is room to change. And it will, because that's what drafts do. At least they do when I pull them up and read them and write in them.

So tomorrow, when life changes once again, and I have a schedule, I'll pull it out again. I'll write a scene or two or whatever it takes to reach a thousand words. Then in a week or so, it will be twice as long as it is now, and we'll take another look. And then in a month, or two, or three, it will be a messy, dirty, finished first draft. And then it starts all over again.

*Not that there is anything wrong with religious. I am a believer. It's just not what I write.