Katy Cooper

Crabby Girl...but it's okay

2008-04-21T19:11:00.003-05:00

I'm sitting here in my office, oppressed by a feeling of crankiness. I know why I'm cranky, which is kind of a relief -- at least this isn't that especially annoying kind of random crankiness which sometimes afflicts me.

I'm cranky because I made a mistake, and I'm not sure how to fix it, and it needs to be fixed. I was freaking out because there's a time constraint involved, but the deadline was going to be blown even without my mistake, so I've let that go. That eased my mind considerably, since I now don't have to scramble to arrive at a solution.

The other good thing is that I'm not beating myself up about it, and I'm not shoving away my unhappiness at having made the mistake. (Without getting into the details, it's one of those obnoxious mistakes that looks absolutely avoidable in hindsight, to the point you wonder what you were thinking when you made it.) I'm living in the space between those extremes, unhappy and knowing there's going to be difficulty and pain as I (and everyone else affected) lurch toward resolution. But I'm also kind of relieved, because I don't know that I've ever been able to spend time in this emotional space before.

Basically, it sucks, but it'll pass. And that's a good thing to know.

But I'm still a little cranky and annoyed with myself.

Updates, Here and Elsewhere

2008-04-05T10:19:00.003-05:00

Yes, I've been neglecting this blog, but I've been blogging on my writing progress here, and I've been blogging about what I'm reading here. I hope you'll go check those two blogs out.

Other than that, I've been struggling with exercise, food intake and frugality. I'm pretty sure I can't focus on making sure I write, work out, eat appropriately and not spend money foolishly all at the same time. Something always flaps loose; lately it's been two things (working out and eating appropriately). All of those things take mental energy and I only have so much to go around. By focusing on writing so intensely, I've drawn energy away from other areas.

I'm six days away from meeting a writing goal that I've been working towards since January 2, and there's a reason I need to hit the goal next Friday. So adjusting my writing focus isn't going to happen for a few days yet. I need to get my eating and my working out under a little more control, so I've decided to let myself out of "can't spend money" mode. This doesn't mean I'll go hog-wild; it just means that I'm going to stop telling myself I can't go shopping. In particular, I need some shoes, so I've decided that I'm going to hunt for them and, when I find them, I'm going to bag them then and there.

(I don't need the shoes the way I need food, water and oxygen; I need them the way you need something that will make your life easier and your feet more comfortable. If I don't find what I'm looking for, I have less attractive or less comfortable alternatives; I'd just rather not use the alternatives if I don't really have to.)

And that's where I am/where I've been.

Happiness

2008-02-10T20:37:00.001-05:00

Happiness is a good workout.

I didn't want to go to the gym today, I really didn't want to go, but I went anyway, and I hadn't been there more than half an hour when I realized I was happy to be there.

It's a little challenging because they've changed over all the equipment, so setting it up is completely different. The resistance is different, so the weight I need to use is different. For example, there's an exercise I do for my abductors. On the old machine, I used to set the weight at around 45 lbs. On the new machine, I was at 80 lbs. before I started working. On the other hand, I was doing a pulldown for my lats, and I had to drop the weight from my former 45 lbs. to 25 lbs.

But that's just the details. The important thing is that I went, even though I didn't want to; the important thing is that I was happy when I was done.

We'll see how I feel on Tuesday, when I have to go again...

Another year gone by

2007-12-31T21:00:00.001-05:00

Well, here it is, December 31 once again. I looked at last year's December 31 post and re-read all the things I intended to get done this year...and none of them got done.

I started to say "that's the bad news" but I balked--I don't think of it as bad news. The story that was going to be done by the end of January because it was no more than a novella, a story 30-40 pages long, wouldn't stop growing, until now I think it might run 250-300 pages. How did that happen? Basically, I kept digging into it, trying to understand the world of its setting. I've worked on it all year long, when life didn't kidnap me, and it's really come together.

Some things I planned on doing didn't happen--I didn't actually do anything concrete on the school front, though I did find a nearby school that offers an undergraduate degree in religious studies. That's the option I want to explore (though it baffles the beloved).

Other things that I didn't plan on did occur--my two other blogs. Somewhere along the line, I decided it made sense to divvy up my thought processes, that I shouldn't have a mishmash of stuff going on. So I have the writing blog for my writing life, a reading blog for what I'm reading, and this place for everything else.

So where do I want to be this time next year? I really want a finished book under my belt. I really want to come to the end of a story I wrote, and know it's done. (Yeah, it'll have to be revised, but that's small potatoes, relatively speaking.)

Other than that, things are good. I think I've finally found balance on the weight front--I gained a little weight over the holidays but I haven't wigged out about it: at long last, I know I'll take it off again. Exercise has been spotty and a struggle, but I'll get that back on track. I have a haircut I dislike, but I'll get that fixed; at least I love the color.

Do I feel like I've come far this past year? Not really, but I suppose I must have if I can gain a little weight and get iffy on going to the gym without freaking out and beating myself up. That's actually pretty huge...but I also think I've been moving toward this moment in tiny little steps, so it doesn't feel like a huge change.

So something that I struggled with for a long time is less of a struggle, maybe no struggle at all. I wish that for everyone: that the struggles stop being such struggles.

Happy New Year.

Sometimes A Great Notion

2007-12-21T21:11:00.000-05:00

When your car is piled high with snow, it's hard to make yourself get up in the dark to go to the gym. Well, it's hard to make yourself get up in the dark to go to the gym in general; the snow is just a bit of additional de-motivation.

That was my situation this morning. My bedroom was cool, but my bed was toasty; outside it was really cold, and my bed was really toasty. So I couldn't get my little self to the gym first thing this morning. Then, when I got out of bed, I still didn't want to trundle off to the gym.
Fortunately, over the last five or six months, I've built up a tiny collection of free weights, enough to give myself a reasonable small-muscle (biceps, triceps, shoulders) workout.

My trainer groups things, working pairs of areas. The pairs change, so sometimes it's front of body (biceps and chest) one workout, then back of body (back and triceps) the next. Sometimes it's pushing (chest and triceps), then pulling (back and biceps). Right now, we're on a big muscle (chest and back)/small muscle (bicep and tricep) cycle, and today was a small muscle day.

So what did I do? Worked out in the comfort of my own home.

If I hadn't bought my few free weights I wouldn't have been able to do it. But sometimes you get a good idea, you execute it...and it continues to pay off for a long time.

A Little Whine

2007-12-10T20:18:00.000-05:00

I want to whine, and I don't want to whine to myself.

I hate my hair and I think I've definitely gained weight--my face looks fatter in pictures.

And as soon as I write that, as soon as I attempt to launch myself into "waaahhhh" mode, a sane, sensible voice says, "Oh, stop. You're fine," and a sense that this is where I am, in a place where what I weigh isn't something I need to be happy or unhappy about, grounds me. My eating is mostly under control. I have bad days, but I eat to allow for them, because I know I'll have them. That takes a lot of the pressure off, all around. My exercise schedule is settling down, after some fairly maddening struggles. Even when I have bad weeks, it's okay. I'm back in the place where I recognize that this is my whole life, the whole journey, not some crazy race where if I don't achieve X by Y date, I've failed.

As for my hair, I love the color, but I'm not loving the cut. That's not dissing my hairdresser--I picked the cut. It's a fairly blunt cut semi-bob, and I suspect my hair's too thick for it. So I'm thinking about cutting it again, into a kind of wedge-ish thing, something I had a couple of years ago and really loved. This, in fact:

It's easy and fun, and I kind of miss it.

We'll see.

At least I love the color (which is different than when I had the above picture taken).

Surfing

2007-10-25T19:59:00.000-05:00

I started watching the Red Sox...but Colorado's coming back, and I don't need the stress. So I've flipped to A&E and my lone TV addiction, The First 48. It's not that I'm a big fan of blood and guts; it's that I love stories about figuring out puzzles. One of my favorite movies is The Hunt for the Red October, which is partly about Jack Ryan's efforts to figure out what's going on.

The show follows homicide detectives in various cities--Miami, Memphis, Dallas, Detroit and Cincinnati--as they attempt to solve murders. (The title refers to the fact that if the detectives fail to get a solid lead in the first 48 hours after the crime, their chance of solving the crime is cut in half.) The fact that a good 1/3 of the episodes I've watched take place in Miami--and which show the real Miami CSI make it impossible for me to watch CSI: Miami. The irony is that reruns of CSI: Miami air on A&E right before the (relatively) real deal.

In a lot of ways, The First 48 is the anti-CSI; as far as I can tell, it gives some sense of the reality of police work. Among other things is it gives some sense of the grind of police work, as you chase down often dead-end leads, and it shows that, more often than not, DNA is irrelevant. And even when it is relevant, it takes a long, long time for comparison. There is no database that will give you a fingerprint match--the database will give potential matches, but the technician needs to examine the potential matches to make a firm determination.

I'll be checking back to see how the score of the game goes...but I'm not staying up. I'll find out what happens when I wake up in the morning.

The Day After

2007-10-22T18:15:00.000-05:00

So I stayed up for the game. I think it was a good call, all in all.

Staying up for the post-game stuff? Not so much...maybe. It depends on whether or not it would have made a difference, going to bed at 11:30-ish, versus 1 AM. Would I still have been awake at 2 AM? Maybe. Maybe not. I'll never know.

What I do know is that I'm probably not going to watch the weekday World Series games--I can't do this night after night. I can't do it one night. Will it be on the radio? I could do that. Well, only if it's not a radio broadcast of the Fox telecast. I can--mostly--ignore McCarver and Buck if I have something to look at.

If they're all I have, I'm doomed. Not since my youngest sister was four have I come across so much talking to such little point. I'm waiting for the day one of them says, "You know, if the sun comes up in the east, we'll have daylight." I'm no baseball expert, so you know it's bad when a professional announcer says something and my reaction is, "Ya think??"

Mind you, if that's the worst thing I have to complain about, I'm a very lucky person, and I know it.

Loon

2007-10-21T19:27:00.000-05:00

I am a loon. A loon, I tell you. I am going to stay up to watch the Red Sox and Cleveland Indians, even though I have to be up very early tomorrow morning.

Well, okay, maybe I'm not crazy. Maybe I'm just being honest with myself. Because the reality is I'm not going to be able sleep. So I might as well just stay up and watch.

(On a side note, I have a blog purely about my reading experience. It's here.)

Love Those Commercials

2007-10-05T21:28:00.000-05:00

I don't watch that many commercials--I'm a fan of clicking away from them. However, I've seen a couple of them lately that I really enjoy.

In the commercials, a slightly disreputable person approaches a stranger in a public place and asks the stranger for his or her help with a money issue, promising a giant payment if the stranger helps. All the person needs is the stranger's bank information to deposit the reward.

I'm a little fuzzy on the details--the appeals are essentially the text of scamming e-mails that have gone 'round the internet for years...and which still claim victims. The reason I love the commercials is that the stranger catches on, pulls away from the disreputable person, and then the voiceover says something like, "Doesn't sound so good in person, does it?"

For once, the voiceover isn't an exaggeration. The shadiness of the proposition, the weird unlikeliness of it, is clearer when you have a person saying it.

So, today, those are my favorite commercials.

Persistence Pays Off

2007-09-04T19:27:00.000-05:00

I went a week without going to the gym, but my trainer, bless her heart, didn't give me a hard time about it. Part of it was that even though I didn't make it to the gym, I still exercised. At my last appointment, my physical therapist said that I'll probably have to do ab workouts and either squats or upright leg presses a few times a week for the rest of my life to keep my hip strong. If I can't get to the gym, I still do my abs and my squats.

The other reason she didn't give me a hard time is that I've been consistently persistent for the last three years. Even when I hit bad patches--when I somehow don't have the energy or the will to fight darkness, cold or crowds--I don't give up. I don't think one bad week means I'm a failure, or that it's over. It just means I had a bad week. It happens.

Of course, it's taken me a few years to understand this. The first time I hit a bad patch, on some level I panicked, thinking that this was the beginning of the end, that I was thisclose to quitting...and I didn't want to quit. I panicked a little the second time and the third, but each time the panic has lessened, because I have the experience of getting over the bad patches, time and again, to draw on.

The other thing is that I'm starting to understand that this is a lifetime thing and, as with most lifetime things, there are ups and downs. It's also true of lifetime things that it's the long view that matters. It's not necessarily how the week went, or even the month went, it's how I'm doing over the course of years. In the course of three years, I've been persistent, stubborn and dedicated. That's the trend that matters, that's the trend I need to trust, not the week I chose not to go to the gym because I thought I needed my sleep more. (My gym is too crowded at night, so I really have to go early in the morning.)

This whole experience reminds me that sticking to things matters, and that anything is possible if you just keep at it.

Vacation-itis

2007-07-04T18:08:00.000-05:00

This time next week, I will be at RWA National in Dallas. I have two days left at the day gig before I'm on vacation, and I'm as cranky as can be about it. I love my job, I really do--it soaks up all the stuff writing doesn't absorb. There's a certain amount of juggling involved, in an administrative kind of way, and I love that stuff. I also love it because I'm good at it. I'm good at the details and I'm good at seeing the big picture.

It's distracting, trying to get ready for the trip. I have to figure out my wardrobe and then I have to make sure all the pieces are on my packing list. I have to remember to include the bands I use for my physical therapy exercises, because I can't skip that stuff. I'm also bringing workout clothes because I would like to get to the gym, but that's much more iffy than the physical therapy stuff.

I'm giving two workshops, so I have to make sure I have my notes organized, up-to-date and printed out. One requires handouts, so I have to print those out. Both the notes and the handouts are on the packing list, because I absolutely do not trust myself to remember them. If I could forget shoes--and I did--I can forget anything.

I have to review and double-check the packing list is complete, because that's what I'll rely on Monday night when I'm actually packing.

I also have to update my iPod. Crowded House is releasing a new CD on Tuesday, and I want to dowload it in the morning before I go to the airport. Impatient and greedy, I can't wait until I get back. I've been on a bit of a Neil Finn binge, listening to my favorite tracks from his two solo albums and the live 7 Worlds Collide.

I'm bringing paper with me and I'm going to try to work a little bit on the dragon story. I don't know how much I'll do, but the dragon is starting to come to life in my head and I want to start writing down what I know while it's fresh in my mind.

I'm ready to do all that stuff...but it's only Wednesday. All fired up and nowhere to go, that's me.

Archive Recycle Meme

2007-06-15T19:24:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged by Lady Tess for the Archive Recycle Mememe--basically, look through my archives and recycle a post...

Hmmmm... this is what I came up with, from May of last year:

Better-er

Well, today the back is better-er. I took something to help with the muscle spasms, and I took NSAIDs (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs), and I tried to keep my butt out of my chair, since sitting is one thing that makes my back stiffen up and get hurtful.

There has been much improvement, which means much joy in my neck of the woods.

Under ordinary circumstances, tomorrow morning would be a workout morning, but that ain't happening. I'll go in on Saturday when I have my usual appointment with my trainer--I have every confidence she'll help figure out things I can do that won't hurt me even more, and might even make me better. (This will be A Good Thing, since I'm pretty sure working out on Tuesday exacerbated whatever it was that was going on back there.)

My friend K. is telling me to get my hip checked out. I suppose I ought to; I forget to mention it when I have my checkup. I have a muscle by my shoulderblade that'll spasm if you press on it; before I used to work out, it would hurt every now and again. That went on for years--years--before I mentioned it to my doctor.

I kept forgetting.

Other than that, things are good. No writing, nor even thinking about it, but I read something in Stanley Karnow's Vietnam: A History that helped me understand something about the world of my fantasy--that every society/people has a myth about its origins that has some connection to historical fact, but is not historical fact. This was mentioned in a very non-judgmental, "This is what human beings do" kind of way...and it helped me see how my people, my society, would see the origins of their world in that kind of mythic, heroic, "That was a time when giants walked the earth" kind of way. I know the truth in my head, so it was kind of hard--until this particular moment of reading--to understand emotionally how my characters would see it differently.

But now I do understand.That's really the best part of writing this particular story: everything I read, however unrelated it may seem (a history of (almost entirely 20th century) Vietnam?), can have bearing on what I'm doing.Which pleases my perpetually digging curiosity no end...

~*~*~*~

This post jumped out at me because it's taken me a year, but I finally did get my hip checked out. Like I said last time, I'm getting physical therapy for it (which is really helping). I'm slow, but I eventually learn...

I'm tagging Kim, Cory, and Chris this time...

Wearing You Down

2007-06-14T18:47:00.000-05:00

It's funny, the things that'll make you feel worn out.

I'm going through a course of physical therapy for my hip, which has been popping and aching for a while now. It's nothing major--two appointments a week, and some daily exercises to be done at home. The appointments, including the walk to and from the office, take an hour and a half. The exercises take 15 or so minutes a day--5 minutes in the morning, 10 or so at night.

No big deal, right? Well, the thing is, since starting the PT, I've been tired, all done by 9:00 PM, and that's not because I'm getting up so early. I think the added physical activity, as little as it seems, is what's doing it.

However, if I really think about it, I shouldn't be surprised. I've basically added almost five hours of physical activity to my weekly schedule, which more than doubles it. In fact, it almost triples it. So of course I'm tired at the end of the day.

Speakers Matter

2007-06-05T19:46:00.000-05:00

A million years ago, when I was a young and foolish sprout, I once said that speakers didn't matter. I truly believed the quality of the speakers--of the whole sound system--didn't matter. Today, listening on my mp3 player to songs I've known forever, I wonder what the heck I was thinking.

Of course it matters. It matters enormously.

Listening to old favorites on a system that allows me to hear all the things I'd missed, all that texture, is like hearing new songs. All those layers, all those nuances, all those sounds I hadn't heard before--it's kind of the aural equivalent of the moment in The Wizard of Oz when things go from black & white to color.

I find myself putting songs on repeat and listening to all the little details I've missed for years, losing myself in songs again. It's the coolest thing, and it makes me very happy.

Divide and Conquer

2007-06-02T14:21:00.000-05:00

"The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--

Of cabbages--and kings--

And why the sea is boiling hot--

And whether pigs have wings."

--- Lewis Carroll
"The Walrus and the Carpenter"

I've decided to maintain two blogs: this one, which will be noodling on any old thing, except my writing, and my new one, which is all about the writing thing. This is me over coffee or popcorn, me on a Saturday afternoon, hanging out. The other is me as a writer, very serious about it, maybe a little less goofy.

Anyway, I hope you'll visit both...and say hello now and again.

Eight random things Me Me Me

2007-05-31T18:48:00.000-05:00

I got tagged by Lady Tess and somehow managed not to find out about it until recently. [Shakes fist at internet, devourer of information.]

First, the rules:

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

Okay, here we go...

I'm the only one of my siblings to have broken bones. When I was 11, I broke my right pinkie finger. I was playing six-man "Keep Away" with a soccer ball and caught the ball wrong. When I was 27, I put my foot wrong running across the street and fell on my left hand with my elbow locked. That cracked the top of my radius (one of the two bones in your forearm). And then when I was 35, I put my foot wrong crossing the street (again!), only this time I broke my ankle. Apparently it was a duel between the tendon and the bone, and the bone gave.
I gave up caffeine (except for the little bit in chocolate and the caffeine in Excedrin). I stopped because my heart kept feeling like it was trying to scrabble right out of my chest, which freaked me out no end; WebMD suggested caffeine could be a cause. So bye-bye caffeine. And bye-bye palpitations.
In twelve years of grade school, I went to 8 different schools. My dad was in the military, so that explains some of it. Then there's the usual grade school/middle-jr. high school/high school shift. So most of the time, I changed schools between school years. The lone exception was third grade. My first school, Sunset Elementary, was overcrowded, so some students were chosen to be bussed to a school out in the cotton fields (literally--cotton grew on three sides of the school). I was one of the choices for third grade. My first third grade teacher didn't like me because I brought the wrong cigar box my first day; my second, Mrs. Atkins, was the bomb.
I am a reading addict. I don't say that lightly, either. I'm one of those people who'll read food boxes when there's nothing else available, and I've read when I was so intoxicated I couldn't get my eyes to work as team. (So one did the reading while the other sort of wandered wherever it felt like. That, or I closed one eye.)
I always read before bed. Always. I know they say you're not supposed to--I think it's supposed to keep you awake or something. But since I always do it, I'm thinking it's part of my nighttime ritual...which they say helps you sleep. See? There's always a reason to do something.
My favorite color is blue and has been for as long as I can remember. When I was 6 or 7, I was very bitter than my sister got blue-patterned pajamas while I was stuck with red. She had blonde hair and blue eyes; I had brown hair and green eyes. So it kind of made sense, especially since my grandmother, who rarely saw us, sent us the jammies. But I was still bitter. If they'd been my size, I'd have stolen my sister's pajamas.
My hair is completely white. Not that you can tell to look at me--I have a very good relationship with my hairdresser, who keeps me in color. But when I look at my roots? All white. I've been coloring my hair since I was 26...which is when I realized I needed to. (I put temporary color in--it made me look like I'd slept for a month, which was a hint that my natural color was Not Flattering Me At All.) But my mother always said that she found my first white hair when I was two, when my hair turned brown.
I try to take very good care of my teeth and my feet--I heard once that if you take care of your teeth and feet, the rest (health-wise) will follow. I was very gratified to read they're starting to think there's a connection between gum disease and heart disease. My mother had dentures, so I saw first-hand what a pain in the neck they were--I really want to keep my own choppers until I die...

Okay, enough about me. Like Lady Tess, I'm having a hard time thinking of who to tag who hasn't been tagged.... I tag Corrina, Chris, Kim and the six Moody Muses. (Okay, that last one is probably cheating, but I don't care...)

Fly-by

2007-05-09T19:01:00.000-05:00

Fly-by means this will be short.

I think.

I often think I'll be short and then I yap away. The last post was like that--it sort of grabbed me by the hair and ran with me.

I've been absent because my life has done that recently. I've been working on a lot of smallish things--scribbling, RWA meetings, making regular appearances at the day gig, spending time with the beloved and the sister people--that aren't particularly fascinating to report, however interesting they were to live. So no report on those.

As usual, I've been reading--I'm a reading fiend who currently has 25 books out from the library, with half a dozen on hold, and more books than I can count in the TBR pile. Right now, I'm reading Sea of Thunder: Four Commanders and the Last Great Naval Campaign 1941-1945 by Evan Thomas--I started it last night and so far it's very readable. (Not all history books are, I'm sorry to say, so this is high praise than it might sound.)

I started it after finishing A Royal Affair: George III and His Scandalous Siblings by Stella Tillyard. My first exposure to Tillyard was Aristocrats: Caroline, Emily, Louisa, and Sarah Lennox, 1740-1832, which was turned into a two-part series for Masterpiece Theatre; that got me curious so I went back to the book. As Tillyard says somewhere in A Royal Affair, her career has tended to focus on the impact of siblings on a given personage, rather than parents, children or society. Since I am very close to my sisters, this is particularly interesting. I didn't know anything about George III's brothers and sisters; what I found out made me sad.

And before all that, I read the latest Loretta Chase, Not Quite A Lady, which was, as usual, fabulous. I've only read it once...which may sound peculiar unless you know that I've read Lord Perfect something like half a dozen times in the last year. But I know I'll read it again.

And that's pretty much where I've been, mentally at least.

17 Things That Aren't True About Me

2007-04-18T18:53:00.000-05:00

1. There's no truth to the rumor I've run away from home.

2. There's no truth to the rumor I disappeared into the Bermuda Triangle (though there was talk of going to Bermuda on a cruise).

3. There's no truth to the rumor that I've slipped sideways through time in order to bring back a firsthand report of Lexington and Concord. (Monday was Patriot's Day in Massachusetts, which--in theory--commemorates the Battles of Lexington and Concord.)

4. There's no truth to the rumor that I'm worn out from running the Boston Marathon. (Also on Monday.)

5. There's no truth to the rumor I'm going to be playing for the Pawtucket Red Sox in preparation for my major league debut as the new closer for the Red Sox.

6. There's no truth to the rumor that I've signed a six-figure 2-book contract with a major publisher.

7. There's no truth to the rumor Prince of Hearts is going to be made into a major motion picture starring Matt Damon. Lord Sebastian's Wife isn't being made into a movie starring Jude Law, either.

8. There's no truth to the rumor that I'm running for president of the U.S. Or of RWA, for that matter.

9. There's no truth to the rumor I'm related to the Queen of England. (I am, however, related to John Rolfe, who married Pocohontas.)

10. There's no truth to the rumor I'm really a blonde.

11. There's no truth to the rumor that I have a Ph.D. in anything.

12. There's no truth to the rumor I have 14 children and live in a seaside mansion in Pride's Crossing, Massachusetts.

13. There's no truth to the rumor I'm a witch living in Salem.

14. There's no truth to the rumor I work for NASA and I'll be going up on the next shuttle mission.

15. There's no truth to the rumor I'm JFK's secret love child with Marilyn Monroe.

16. There's no truth to the rumor I have a tattoo of an English king on every limb.

17. There's no truth to the rumor I live with 342 cats in a one-bedroom apartment across from Fenway Park.

This started out as an explanation for my long silence, and then I started having fun with it. I picked 17 because it was a random number...and I didn't even realize until after I'd picked it that it's a prime number. Go me.

Anyway, the truth is there is no explanation for my long silence, except I haven't had much to say. I've been scribbling faithfully--yesterday was the 95th day since the beginning of the year that I've worked on my story.

Well, scribbling...I don't mean what I've always meant in the past. In the past that meant writing the narrative of the story. These days, it means working on developing the plan of what I will write when I get to the narrative. I'm almost entirely certain I'm a plotter (one who plots her story out before she writes) rather than a pantser (one who flies by the seat of her pants). I'm not sure whether I was always a plotter, or if I've simply become one over time. Anyway, I'm productive, and my story owns half my head, something that hasn't happened for (literal) years. So I'm happy.

If silent....

So, what rumors aren't true about you?

So wrong...

2007-04-01T19:13:00.000-05:00

Well, I completely underestimated how much time it would take me to give my workshop. You know, the one I thought would be done in 20 minutes? The one I was freaking out about (just a little bit)?

Well, I talked for 50 minutes and only got 60% through my material. I'm laughing about it now, and I was laughing about it then. Inside mostly, but always because I'm amused at myself, my anxiety and the gap between expectation and reality.

I wish I hadn't run out of time--the people who were there seemed very interested, which is always gratifying. If what I have now is nearly two hours long, I think I need to figure out a way to tighten it up and condense it. If I can do that, I think this can be a fabulous workshop. And that's the best outcome of all.

Bloody But Unbowed

2007-03-28T19:23:00.000-05:00

It seems like longer than a week since I last posted. You work yourself to a nub, time does funny things. I guess that's the deal.

Anyway, it's Wednesday, and the workshop is almost entirely done, done, done. I've outlined it and I've written a narrative that I can read half a dozen times between now and showtime. My only concern is that it's too short, that I'll talk for 10 minutes and then it'll be over, and question time.

Mind you, if it does take 10 minutes, I'm thinking it's going to be an intense 10 minutes. There's a lot of information in what I have, probably more information than I've ever offered. Maybe I ought to put rest breaks in between concepts.

I could also read the narrative out loud--I won't follow it exactly when it comes time to present, I'll use the outline instead--but that should give me some sense of how long I'll be talking.

(I do best when I have to think and remember what I want to say, rather than having a firm script. The outline just keeps me somewhat on track. Because I can wander and get seriously lost.)

Anyway, I'll do my best, given what I know about what seems to work, and by 3:00 PM Saturday (at the latest), it'll be behind me...

Arga barga

2007-03-21T19:34:00.000-05:00

"Arga barga" is about all I feel truly competent to say. The brain is scrambled. Scrambled, I tell you. And out of the info-overloaded mess between my ears, I must somehow extract a coherent, informative and entertaining workshop by next Thursday. (Okay, I don't have to give the workshop until Saturday, but I like to leave myself some wiggle room for the inevitable disaster.)

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't be at this particular level of arga-barga at this point in time (relative to my performance). I'd be hip-deep in writing the workshop. The thing is, I got in just a little bit over my head.

I thought I understood emotion--which is half the heart of the workshop. It turns out I didn't understand it at all. It's all tied up with consciousness, which is just as weird as it seemed in the fall, when I began this research. Consciousness is huge, it's taking me in all kinds of interesting directions that I think will radically impact the way I develop characters (the other half of the heart of the workshop), and I think that will make for an even cooler workshop than I'd hoped for.

So why am I struggling with this now?

For once in my life, it isn't procrastination. It's partly that I had other things that were just as important, but were slightly more urgent because they had earlier deadlines. It's partly that it took me a while to digest some of the things I read in the fall, and it's partly that it's taken me this long to find the books I needed all along. Great books, that I might not have been able to absorb in November, but still...

I think part of what's making me so dead, mentally, is that I'm writing the workshop with half my brain while I'm absorbing new information with the other. And I'm trying to grasp what I'm learning so I can use it as a writer, and that's a huge mental-energy suck. Still, I really do think this is going to turn characterization inside out for me, and I suspect that will add nuance and grit to the people living in my stories. And if I can see how by next Thursday, I'll be able to tell other people about it, and they'll get something out of this. (And I'll be very excited by this, and an excited speaker generally makes for an interesting speaker. So this is all good. Really.)

I can't say more, but I can give you a partial list of the books I've read that have led me to this point. In no particular order:

The Emotional Brain by Joseph LeDoux
The Feeling of What Happens by Antonio Damasio
The Man Who Tasted Shapes by Richard Cytowic
The Three-Pound Enigma by Shannon Moffett
An Alchemy of Mind: The Marvel and Mystery of the Brain by Diane Ackerman

What I've Been Doing

2007-03-08T20:13:00.000-05:00

Okay, I do know one thing I've been doing: playing with Microsoft OneNote 2007. I'm using it to manage the buckets of information writing a novel generates and I'm loving it because it allows me to do soooo much, including create character collages, which is something I've never been able to do.

Below is a collage of the collages I made. I'm crazymad proud of myself, because I like looking at all three.

So that's what I've been doing. Creating.

Katy Who?

2007-03-07T20:28:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry I've been AWOL--I'm not even 100% sure where I've been. Which seems to be the case every time I go missing. I haven't had much to say, and the little I've had has been concerned with my story. Winter's getting me down, too--day after day of cold, bitter cold. What's made it tougher is that Saturday I was out in a denim jacket. Comfortably. And next week the highs are going to be in the mid- to upper 40s. So this sub-zero wind chill stuff is just maddening.

I want it to be spring. I want it to be light before 6:00 AM. I want to go out in sleeveless tops.

Instead, I'm bundling myself into everything I own and waddling to the car like an olive green penguin.

Sigh.

I'm probably going to be missing again for a bit. I'm working on a workshop for the New England Chapter's Let Your Imagination Take Flight conference, held March 30-31 at the Crowne Plaza in Natick, MA. (Anne Stuart's speaking! So is Barbara Samuel! How cool is that? If you want to join us, there's still room--just go to the New England Chapter conference webpage for details.

Anyway, my best workshop MO is to mull over ideas until shortly before the day I'm giving it, and then scribble like crazy leading up to it. I'm actually out of mulling-it-over time and starting on the scribble madly portion of the program. And that's going to eat into a lot of my everything else time.

But I'll be back...

Bleah

2007-02-21T19:40:00.000-05:00

I'm coming down with a cold.

I think.

Anyway, I'm miserable and tired and achy, and blind-stupid by 8 PM. Bleah.

And that's pretty much all I have to say.

I want to feel better.