Musings of a Novelista

Today is President’s Day, which for me means no software geek work today. That in itself is a celebration.

I hope that everyone had a great Valentine’s Day. I still have a love hangover from yesterday’s wonderful festivities so I thought I would share my great love for the library. It’s where I’ve spent most of this holiday.

I could be shopping for furniture for my empty rooms as one of my friends suggested, but I would rather spend it here at the library working on my novel. Getting a new futon or a sofa won’t help me reach my goal of finishing this writing project (although, I would have more places to sit and write at the house).

Most writers have this kind of loving relationship with the library. I first started my own love affair as a reader. My mother is a renowned reader. She had trunks and trunks of books everywhere — so I got it honest from her.

We would spend literally all day at the library. I still remember the blinking lights indicating closing time. I remember the joy and ecstasy (I’m so not kidding) when I received the beige library card — the “big girl” library card that meant I could go to the “other side” and check out books for adults.

Now as a writer, I still love the library. I love that there is a place made sacred with shelves upon shelves of books. I love browsing the titles and picking up something by fate — something that I can learn from and/or be entertained. I love discovering new subjects and authors.

I also love the librarians who I know by name. And that when I’ve been gone for a minute, they ask where I’ve been. It’s nice to be missed.

There are many things that I love about the library — it is my home away from home. A kindred spirit that shares my love of books.

I heart the library.

I’m a true Southern girl and every time that it snows, I get all giddy inside. This is before the snow freezes and causes all kinds of havoc and chaos.

I know that people who are used to snow probably don’t get why people down here freak out when the snow “storms” occur but considering we have like 3 salt trucks—it really does make a cause for ringing the alarm.

I took some pictures to show you how pretty the snow was in my neighborhood. Who knows what the next few days will bring, but for now, I will enjoy the beauty of a Winter Wonderland.

In the midst of the chaos that is my day job, the news about the final book of the Hunger Games Trilogy brought some excitement into this week.

Scholastic has unveiled the title and the cover of the third book, Mockingjay, which drops on August 24, 2010.

I don’t believe that they are sending out ARCs for this one so any spoilers should stay at a minimum. To say that I’m excited about this final book would be an understatement.

So although August is a long way off—it will be here sooner than you know it. The trilogy will be over but then we can look forward to the movie version. The author is currently working on the screenplay for first book.

It’s interesting to see how these covers have progressed during this trilogy. Maybe this cover is a hint of a positive ending?

As a writer, this is a trilogy where there is so much to learn. Especially with transitions. Suzanne Collins is the queen of the scene transition. She does it flawlessly and makes it look so effortless. Plus the way that she handles plot, characterization, pacing—it’s like a writing workshop reading these books.

So I can’t wait to read what happens and also what I may learn from this talented author.

Things have been slightly crazy at work with a software deadline. But at least I’m finally feeling like myself after battling a cold.

The only causality is that I’m a little behind on my writing. I’m still trying to get a chapter ready for my critique group this weekend as well as stay on track for the novel revision.

This past weekend, I donated my living room and guest bedroom furniture to a single mother and her son. I was very glad to be able to help out someone in need.

Now coming home to a house of empty rooms seems weird. But already I’m thinking of things I could do to the space. Exciting ideas of new textures and colors. Many options to ponder.

Writing is a little like an empty room. You face a blank page to create a world. Ideas for characters and plot spring from the creative mind. Words form and a novel is born.

Since my work schedule is ridiculous it may be a while before I can turn these empty rooms into living spaces. That may be the same fate for my writing in the next couple of months.

But in the midst of my day job chaos I can still ponder. Just like my empty rooms, my blank pages will soon be transformed into a living story.

After struggling with a cold most of this past weekend, I didn’t get a chance to do much of anything except lay in bed and float in and out of consciousness.

But yesterday, I stumbled across a LA Times essay by writer Dani Shapiro, A Writing Career Becomes Harder to Scale

She talks about how the landscape of writing has changed she since she started. Here’s an excerpt of her observation:

“But in the last several years, I’ve watched friends and colleagues suddenly find themselves without publishers after having brought out many books. Writers now use words like “track” and “mid-list” and “brand” and “platform.” They tweet and blog and make Facebook friends in the time they used to spend writing. Authors who stumble can find themselves quickly in dire straits. How, under these conditions, can a writer take the risks required to create something original and resonant and true?”

I find this observation interesting because aspiring writers find themselves in this conundrum. With the new digital age, writers are told that that they must do these things—have a blog and social network accounts to be accessible online to the potential readers, agents, and publishers. But in the end, does it help the writer or hurt the writer? Could this time be better spent on working and studying the craft?

It all comes down to perspective. It’s one thing to do those things because you enjoy them for their own benefits (as I do) and it’s another to do them because you think it’s required to get published.

There’s that word: Published.

As writers, this word is always in the back of our mind. But you must ask the question: What if I never get published?

Would you still write? Would you still be online and blog or update your status on Twitter? It’s more of a question of doing something because you want to connect with other writers who have the same interests and form relationships. It’s a total different thing if you are doing it to “get ahead” or “get noticed” or maybe even to “get published.”

Because what if nothing happens? What if you never get that book contract?

I love when Dani Shapiro references an essay by Ted Solotaroff:

“Perhaps there is a clue to be found near the end of Solotaroff’s essay: ‘Writing itself, if not misunderstood and abused, becomes a way of empowering the writing self. It converts anger and disappointment into deliberate and durable aggression, the writer’s main source of energy. It converts sorrow and self-pity into empathy, the writer’s main means of relating to otherness. Similarly, his wounded innocence turns into irony, his silliness into wit, his guilt into judgment, his oddness into originality, his perverseness into his stinger.’”

Writing is one of the few professions where the “measurement” of success— a book contract — is not guaranteed. But I also believe that publication is only a part of being a writer. Of course you want your words to be read. You want that book contract. But for me, it has to go deeper. Because you don’t know how long the journey will be or where it will end. You must have something else besides the promise of a contract to sustain you during those form rejections and close calls.

For me, I believe you have to love writing for its own sake. And you have to define your own definition of “success” when it comes to your writing.