Back from the Depths of June

Hello, internet and blogfriends! I've returned from the dark, hot recesses of June. It's July and summer's into her stretch, but we've had a blessed respite from the usual hellish temperatures here in Greenville. The 4th was sunny and mid-80's... perfection. I enjoyed the last week of my vacation. Except for the fact that my computer got a virus... not sure if it's fixed, I'll need to reload it soon. Sigh.

But I'm not letting that keep me from plunging back into work this month! I printed out the first twenty pages of my novel today to start editing. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be. I'm second-guessing how I laid things out in the first run through. I think it's ok, but I wonder if it would be punchier if I did something differently with the material I have... like putting chapters in different orders, and so on.

I'm also striking a LOT of extraneous prose. I don't know if I just need to talk a lot in the beginning to get into the stride of the story, but my lord, this first chapter is super wordy. Some of it's good stuff, but it's pretty description just for the sake of pretty description. So I'm hacking it up and distributing the parts I really like into the surrounding paragraphs. Make sense? Hope so. I'm sorta like Indiana Jones... just making this up as I go along, heh.

I expect y'all will be seeing more of me this month than last month. I'm looking forward to talking about the editing process with you as well as hearing how your projects are coming along. What's up in your corner of blogland? Any advice for my fledgling editing processes?

Pay it Forward Giveaway Winner!

IT IS FINISHED.

This statement applies to many things in my life right now.

Sadly, one of them is not the WIP. However, I'm really proud of the progress I made in the month of May. I've reached 391 pages and 113,000 words, which is farther than I ever expected to go with this scary little story. Since I worked Freedom Weekend Aloft this weekend, I get a couple days off this week (today and tomorrow) and I truly hope to be able to finish it then.

Other things which ARE finished are:

- The month of May
- Spring in the South (Helloooooo, Summer!)
- Freedom Weekend Aloft (thank God!)

Hmmm... what else is finished... OH YEAH!! The Pay it Forward Giveaway! I'm announcing the winner today! In fact... I'm announcing the winner right now!

Before I tell you who won (yeah, making ya wait... I know you hate me), I'd really like to say THANK YOU to everyone who responded to this contest. When all the entries were tallied up, I had over 400 entries from bloggers who tweeted, facebooked, blogged, and used various other means to spread the word about paying it forward. Some bloggers even went on to start their own contests on their own blogs, either using my format or making up one of their own entirely from scratch.

I'm overwhelmed by the response. And so excited to share this wonderful idea with you guys. The blogging community has really buoyed my spirits over the last month. I know I haven't posted every day, but I have been reading and commenting as much as I can, and listening to everything you guys have to say. Thank you so much.

And now... without further ado (there has been far too much ado already, thanks)... the winner of the Pay it Forward Giveaway is...

Karen G of Coming Down the Mountain!

Congratulations, Karen!! Let me know if you prefer me to purchase one of your books (I see that you have two for sale on your website) or if you'd prefer the gift card. Also, be sure to let Curt and Shane from Mooks in the Movies know how you'd like your name to be used in their next script!

Also, I surpassed 125 followers, so I added a MYSTERY PRIZE to the pot! The winner of the mystery prize is...

Hart Johnson, the Watery Tart!

Congrats, Hart! The mystery prize is...

Your very own copy of Issue #3 of Fissure Magazine - the literary magazine that published my short story "Avenue of Dust" - autographed from yours truly to you, personally. AND a mix CD, of my own devious devices. Email me your mailing address and I'll get them out to you! Surprised? I hope so! :D

I hope you guys had as much fun with the Pay it Forward Giveaway as I did. I plan on doing another contest in the next few months, and as soon as I have the details figured out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, please don't stop doing little kindnesses for your fellow humans, just because the giveaway is over (for now). Each of us can make the world a little better for someone else. One of these days, the avalanche is gonna kick in.

Have a fantastic Tuesday and let's do everything we can with June! Who's with me?!

Dog Tag Dedication

I never knew my maternal grandfather. He died in the late sixties, several years before I was born. My paternal grandfather passed away even earlier than that - when my dad was still a kid. When I was younger, I never gave much thought to not having a grandfather; like most children, I accepted the ins and outs of my family dynamic without question. Other children had granddads, and of course I understood the concept. I just didn't have one of my own.

We never really talked about my dad's father - I guess he was just too young when his dad died to be able to relay much about him to us - but my mom talked about her father every so often while telling me stories of her childhood. I remember being fascinated by these tales of my mother as a girl. I listened faithfully, rapt in her memories, learning about my grandfather (whom my mother referred to as "Daddy" and my sister and I always called "Papaw"), his huge heart and wicked sense of humor. There weren't many of these anecdotes, and I can still quote them chapter and verse. But they were still only a handful of glimpses into the rich life of a man who passionately loved his town and his family.

In recent years I've grown much more interested in our family's history. I discovered some interesting facts about my heritage, such as my grandmother's membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution and the Daughters of the Confederacy. I learned I was related to two governors of South Carolina (both held office in the 1700's). I also found out that my great-great grandfather, Yelvon Brown, was an officer in the Confederate Army in Virginia. What a lineage!

Yesterday while I was visiting with my family for Easter, I found a bag of my mom's "keepsake jewelry". Through the plastic I saw the distinctive shape of dog tags tucked in with assorted bracelets, watches, pins, and charms. I dug them out and was delighted to find they were my grandfather's. They list his name and Army serial number, next of kin, and religion. There was also a small weatherproofed portrait of my grandmother with the tag, and on the opposite side of her portrait was a real four-leaf clover pressed against the photo's backing paper, perfectly preserved under the clear plastic. Mom said my grandmother had it made for him, just before he was shipped out.

Mom gave me the dog tags to keep for a while. I asked for them; I felt compelled. Now I can't stop thinking of my grandfather in the war: a couple years younger than me, homesick for his town and his wife, proud to help his country end the war as however he could. He wore this chain overseas and back home again; it was around his neck as he wrote letters to my Mamaw and slogged through mud and wished on evening stars to get back safe to his home in the Appalachians. He looked at the picture of my grandmother thousands of times in the two and a half years he was at war, wishing he could step right into its black-over-white composition and take her into his arms. He pressed his thumb over that four-leaf clover for luck over and over again as he faced dangerous situations, and its magic never failed him. Wearing these tags, I have the clearest sense of him as a real person I've ever had.

Eight months ago, I started a journey. One month left. It's an uphill battle but I refuse to surrender. I'm using this totem to remind me of the bravery I come from; the determination and pride which runs in my family. In me. I'm wearing the tags around my neck right now. That four-leaf clover is getting a workout, let me tell you.

As for Music Monday... This post might not be entirely music related, but I do have a thought for you. Long ago my mother told me what my Papaw's favorite song was. I think I'll go listen to it now. So, friends, if you know "Sixteen Tons" by "Tennessee" Ernie Ford, feel free to hum along.

Prose Detox

I think I mentioned last week that I was under the weather, either due to a severe allergy or an awful cold. I think it was a cold, because I got a lot of people sick, evidently, including my writing compatriot Gail Gray. I decided this week, after kicking most of that crap out of my system, I'd try to give my body a few days to cleanse itself. I'm doing a "poor-man's" detox, and I'm cutting out all caffeine, processed sugar, meat, etc. Drinking lots of water, eating fruits and vegetables, trying my hand at some vegetarian cuisine - I even have some tofu marinating in the fridge for dinner tonight.

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep, I said to myself, "Self," (I call myself Self) "You should put this in your blog. I'm sure you can relate it to writing somehow."

"I don't think so," I argued (I'm a contrary cuss, aren't I?). "It's just food, man, it doesn't have anything to do with writing."

I then told myself that everything relates to writing, in one form or another, at least for me. I decided to sleep on it and see if I could think of a way I could relate it, and if so, I'd blog about it today.

In the shower (where so many good ideas come, remember?) I realized that my writing can do with a little cleansing itself. Once I've finished the book and let it rest for a few weeks, I want to put it through the literary equivalent of a detox. Right now I'm just focusing on getting the impurities out of my system, mostly by drinking lots of water and fruit juice, while eating minimally. The things I do eat are super healthy - veggies, fruits, smoothies, etc. I want to do this with my manuscript. I will scrub it vigorously with grammar and syntax. I will clean away all the adverbs and cliches I can find. I'll make it as pure as I can - as sparkling as the MS can be.

It'll be hard, just like this week (or possibly two weeks, I haven't decided) is going to be. But it will be rewarding. Once I've finished my little detox project on myself, I'm sure I'll feel better. Things will have more elaborate tastes. Sleep will come easier. The sickness from last week will be entirely out of my system.

And the same will be true for my manuscript in early July; that's my goal, anyway. It's already good. Of course, so am I - but I can use improvement. Can't everything? So after the editing, after the "prose detox", it'll be cleaner, smoother, punchier. It will say exactly what I want it to say. And, most important of all, it'll be ready to run the gauntlet of querying and submitting to agents and publishers.

A difficult - but fun and rewarding - journey. On both counts. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.

Starting Your Life in the Middle of Your Life

...and this is your life, writers.

Or, maybe not. It's my life. But I bet you'll see similarities in our paths through the universe. We're artists, after all, aren't we? You can boil down universal callings to bare minimums: Teacher. Healer. Leader. And so on. One of these basic concepts is The Artist. This isn't a path you travel lightly; it's not a life of whim and circumstance. It's a path that's given to you by a higher power, not something you choose for yourself. It's hard, and frustrating, and lonely. You don't fall in love with it for the money or the fame or the glamor. But in the end you've made your mark, not just on your immediate surroundings but on the people who've experienced your work. They'll carry that influence with them, and the ripples of your vision will carry out into infinity. Your art is the stone you cast into the pool of humanity... how many people will those ripples touch? It's indefinite.

I wrote my first "book" at the age of four. It was a thin volume covered in green construction paper; two leprechauns danced jauntily on the cover. The whole story was less than ten pages in length, complete with illustrations. But even back then, I was hooked. Making up stories filled my days, took precedence in my mind above almost everything else. I took my "book" to my mother and told her I wanted to be a writer when I grew up (she still has it; guess I got my romantic nature from her, eh?). I've repeated that same ambition countless times since that day, although I've learned that growing up is probably not my immediate future... but that's all right, I'd trade normalcy and complacency for vision and substance every time.

I grew up with an aptitude for creating the written word. I attended classes; I went to schools for talented children. I received a scholarship to college for an original monologue I'd written. I was driven to be better, cleaner, faster, punchier. I out-wrote the majority of my fellow students, but still wasn't satisfied. My attention deficit disorder, coupled with other issues, defeated my passion for a long time. It was as if I had a huge compass inside me, and it was constantly turning, searching for true north. I turned away from writing for a few years, went on to living my life and paying my bills and being as good of a person as I could be (which, unfortunately, was never as good as I wanted to be). For a long time I ignored that restless turning of the compass needle, concerning myself more with fitting into the molds built for me by my family and society itself.

Meltdown ensued.

Five years on the other side of the break - the one that finally showed me I had no choice but to honor the needs and desires of my real self, and forget what society and the rest of the world wanted for me - I look back and carefully survey the road I've traveled, the perils I've faced. And I can honestly say I've come out the stronger, with more material than ever to use. I've thrown myself back into writing over the last three years, and it's going well. I've been published four times, and I am working on the first draft of a novel. It's the scariest thing I've done in a long time, but I'm about halfway through it, and it's going really well.

I can't promise wisdom in this blog. I can't even promise consistency - it might be weeks or even months between updates. But I can promise you honesty, reader - over the course of my path, I've learned that it's one of the most important factors in a person's life. Honesty dictated to me, finally, that I had to stand up and be the person I'm supposed to be or fall down and die. Never being a quitter, I decided to stand up and write.

This is the journey... come with me, why don't you? I could use some company on the way. I need a good listener, too; I hope you're ready for some stories.

I've got too many of them to tell to just keep my mouth shut anymore.