Puppy Wake-Up Calls...

The rough things about puppies that even on days off, I find myself up and awake by 7:30 a.m. Take this morning, for example. Having a friend in town to visit, I took today off from work to spend time with her. Not getting up on a Monday morning is always a luxury. Except...I am up.

Granted, I did get to sleep in past my normal weekday wake-up-time of 6:03 a.m. But I was awoken by a furious licking on the ear at 6:13 a.m. because Rory needed to go. I got up, took them outside then shepherded them back to bed, hoping to steal a little more sleep. I got about 30 minutes before Rory decided that was enough and started nipping at my toes under the covers.

You might ask why I don't let them out and go back to bed. Well, I've tried this but it results in them disappearing outside for a while and then, when they realize they're 'alone' in the house, they start yipping and trying to find me. Since I have a guest, I try to keep the noise to a minimum. Hence...here I am at 7:45 a.m.

It would help if we'd gone to bed earlier. However, last night was one of those nights where we just hung out watching silliness on TV and got sucked in to something silly.

Last night's something silly was poodle grooming. Yes, you read that right. There was a show on The Learning Channel about a poodle grooming contest. Have you ever seen what people do to their poodles? They basically decide what the poodle is going to look like and then they dye and trim the poodle to match their design. Last night, there was a buffalo, a lion, a roller derby poodle and a camel. The owners dye them every colour imaginable and then on the day of the contest, the poor multi-coloured creatures stand there in front of an audience while they're shaved, cut and groomed to ridiculous proportions.

I admit, the poodles looked pretty interesting after they were groomed. I mean, that's some commitment right there. What I was amazed at is that the poodles didn't seem to mind. They seriously must be the most patient and docile dogs on the planet. They stood there, amiably letting their owners prod and pull them. It was pretty amazing. Given that Rory and Sookie hate being bathed, I can't imagine even thinking about grooming them. Then again, aside from sticking a hot dog bun on them, there's really not much you can do to groom a dachshund...thankfully.

We also watched the Tony Awards last night since Green Day's American Idiot was nominated and I wanted to see if it was as bad as I feared. It turned out it's not...bad, per se. It's just not what I associate with Green Day. I'd rather just watch the band sing than a bunch of mugging 'slackers'. Also, given that the American Idiot character on the album is an apathetic slacker, those kids representing him with their choreography sure do have a lot of energy.

Aside from the 'bad' TV, it's been a fun weekend. We saw "The A-Team" yesterday since we both were fans of the terrible '80's TV show in our youth. I have to say, it was a lot of fun. It wasn't cheesy the way the '80's show was but rather tongue-in-cheek about its own ridiculousness and there's something quite entertaining about that. It's not on a par with, say, Jane Austen but sometimes you need a little mindless escape or, in the case of "The A-Team" a complete mindless escape.

Today, we're planning on just staying local since she flies home tonight. We didn't manage to get the household stuff done for which I'd enlisted her help orginally. We did get the broken ceiling fan off the ceiling but the wiring was far more complex than we felt equipped to handle so I'm waiting for my dad- my household hero- to come down and help since he nicely offered. Also, we decided that the kitchen faucet was not going to be easy to I have to wait on that too.

This means my Thursday hootenanny might be cancelled. With no kitchen light or fan and water that squirts from the sink if a cloth is not wrapped around the joint, I'm not sure entertaining is a good idea. I'll be sad but I'm hoping we can do a happy hour instead or something instead since we should do something to celebrate, uh, I mean recognize the fact that we didn't go to the conference at work.

Which is good because otherwise, it would mean today, I'd be on my way to the conference, the idea of being forced to smile and be social for 3 days, non-stop weighing heavily on my shoulders. Instead, we're going to go to Costco, hang out and play with puppies.

I'd say I got a fair deal in the end, wouldn't you?

Happy Monday!

I am a Creature of Habit and Routine...

I am a creature of habit and routine. Over the years, I have fought against this, trying to be more spontaneous, trying to embrace alternatives to the usual but, over the years, I have learned that nothing can be done about it: I know what I like, I know when I like to do it and it takes me a while to get used to something new.

There have been times when a change in my planned routine is welcome. Usually it's on a day that I've planned to be productive and someone says "let's go see a movie" and I say "Ok!". Sadly, this is the highlight of my spontenaity, no matter how hard I try.

Take for example today. It's Monday. It is my routine on Mondays to make myself get out of bed after a night of not sleeping well. I never sleep well on Sunday nights. It's a throwback to those Sunday evenings when I was in school when I'd have homework to do, bullies to avoid, the chance of getting anything less than an 'A' in a class. I would sleep badly then, dreading the beginning of the week. Nowadays, I don't have that sense of dread but I still sleep restlessly, lamenting the end of the weekend. On Mondays, when I do get up, I have a mini-rationalization session with myself as to why I HAVE to go to work today, even though the thought of sleeping more or doing nothing all day appeals. Then, when I finally get up, it takes me a while to actually wake up. I never have the energy to make coffee on Monday mornings, choosing instead to drink the vile office coffee when I finally make it to work.

This Monday morning was exactly the same, even though I tried to make it different. I woke up twice in the night, one time because it began raining hard, the other just because I couldn't sleep. I had the usual "I don't want to go to work today debate with myself." I lost. I'm at work. Again...I am a creature of habit.

So, here I sit on this Monday morning. It's gloomy and grey outside but the sun is attempting to come out and I think as the day passes, it will brighten up. It's quiet driving through town today; the students at the university have all left for the summer and the usual joggers, early morning-class goes who stumble to the bus stop and students who wander into the street without looking because they're too busy texting as they walk to actually notice what's going on them are absent. It's very peaceful and nice out there. I loved working on USC's campus; during the summer, the pace slowed and though work still had to be done, the pressure was less.

That's not the case with this job since I no longer work for a university but I do think living in a college town will be similar. I'm supposed to go out with coworkers tonight to see "Star Trek" and have dinner. Having dinner will be a pleasure because only the 'townies' will be around and the aura of calm will have already infiltrated the town. Actually, I will say, that for me, I am being spontaneous tonight, normally I spend Monday evenings watching House and 24 and making something nutritious and good for dinner. I'm not worried. I use Hulu.com for all my television needs now when I miss an episode. (Thank you, Hulu for making it easier for me to be a creature of habit and not miss an episode of my shows).

Yet even with the newfound calm of this little town, it's still a Monday. It would be a monotonous day except that I'm currently listening to the new Green Day album which is not available for sale until Friday but which the band has generously provided a way to listen to it online. Of course, this does mean that there are ways to get the album ahead of time and listen to it on one's iPod. Which I would never do because I am a good Captain Monkeypants.

Whatever. I have to snicker at that because I'm listening to it on my iPod even now. Yes, some would call it theft. Others, like me, would call it an emergency. What do they expect? You do NOT tease a Monkeypants like me with great songs like "21st Century Breakdown" and "The Static Age" and make me wait a week. Besides, I've already pre-ordered the CD so I'm going to purchase it when it does officially get released. This is probably rationalization but I'm a firm believer in paying for good music and so I will. I just don't think it's nice to be mean and taunt us with the good stuff and then say "you can't have it for another week."

I'm a huge Green Day fan. I think I've mentioned that. They're a band that I've loved for many years. They inspired an entire novel with their last album. Listening to this new one? I'm already getting ideas. It's different from American Idiot in many ways. It's older, wiser, less rebellious but still inherantly Green Day. I haven't quite figured out the story yet because I haven't listened to it enough but when you hear a song like "The Static Age" and you get a happy thrill in the pit of your stomach because you know you've just fallen in love with a song on first listen...you know it's good.

I love Green Day because they know how to reach everyone. They have enough angst and anthems to keep getting young rebels interested in their music for the first time but they have enough experience and wisdom to be able to give those of us that have followed them for a while a new version of who they are. It works for them. I can't say this album, 21st Century Breakdown is better than American Idiot because I just don't know. At the moment, I'd say not because it's hard to replace your favourite album of all time with something else, even by the same band and, as aforementioned, I am a creature of habit and routine. However, who knows, after a few listens, I may change my mind. I'm open to the possibility.

So, though in many ways, it's a typical Monday, I'm trying to make it different. Not so different that I feel like the universe is out-of-whack but different enough that I don't look at it like it's Monday, the enemy to my weekend freedom, the mantle of having to be responsible and productive wearing heavy on my shoulders. Unfortunately, there are some things that you just can't change though and even with great music, it's still a Monday. I shall go forth into the day, armed with my Green Day and ready to work hard. I'll also try to talk myself out of going home and trying to figure out how to set my DVR to record my TV shows with my HD converter box just so I can watch 24 on the night it airs. I keep telling myself that's what Hulu.com is for but old habits die hard. Especially when you're me.

Happy Monday.

An Author in Search of Six* Characters (*six not required)

I've been blogging a lot lately. Given my tribulations with the DMV, it's probably healthier that I deal with my frustration using my writing rather than use, say, physical violence. That's the nice thing about writing. It's such a great outlet. Of course, it's also nice to unleash a torrent of frustration on a listening ear- I have a few of those and am grateful for all of them- but there's something nice about pouring your heart out about how you really feel. As you've probably noticed from my Stephanie Meyer rants, I tend to be slightly opinionated about...certain topics, particularly books.

I also love to blog because it's like a daily writing exercise. My writing has been at a bit of a standstill lately. I sent out queries to agents and haven't heard a word back, not even a rejection. Since I made a promise to myself that I'd try much harder to actually do something with my novels before I started another one, that promise seems to be buried in my subconcious and putting up a wall whenever I think about starting a new novel. I have a couple of ideas but none which are leaping to the front of the queue. So I've been doing little writing exercises to get myself over the hurdle of not writing.

When I write, music is of the utmost importance. In all honesty, every one of my novels has been inspired by a song that I've heard that's caused my mind to create a story around it. Sometimes the story is influenced by the song. Green Day's American Idiot album inspired a whole novel. I never stole from Green Day but I let their music weave a story in my mind using phrases from the songs to create a framework. I still love that novel because whenever I listen to American Idiot, Jimmy DeLeon, my main character, is suddenly in my mind again.

That's what I've been doing lately. I've been listening to songs and then writing based on that song. Last week, I did a short piece based on The Airborne Toxic Event's "Sometime Around Midnight." It's an awesome song, romantic, yearning, full of heartbreak and sadness and nostalgia. So that's the short story I wrote. I have no idea if it's legal or not to do that. I'm not plagarizing the song, just letting it tell me what to write. Now I'm doing one for Coldplay's "Viva la Vida." That one is harder because there are so many possibilities.

Whether or not it is legal, I don't care. I do care that I'm getting over my mental block. I don't consider it writer's block because I am still writing and I figure if I refuse to believe in writer's block, I won't ever suffer from it. I might have writer's 'obstacles' but not writer's block. It's the same thing as when I am in the middle of a novel and I get stuck. One of my tricks is to 'go out' with a character. I suppose that sounds insane to anyone who doesn't write but it's a really great way to get over being stuck. When I go out with my characters, I usually pick a location that suits the character. For example, in my romantic drama about a skateboarder and his unattainable crush, I was having trouble getting inside the skateboarder's mind. His name is Jamey. So I decided we needed to go to the beach (much easier in California than it would be now in Ohio). I packed up my bag, took my notebook and headed out. It turned out to be a rainy, cloudy day but it also ended up being perfect. What I do is 'interview' the characters, just let them talk to me. Sometimes, I'll ask questions, sometimes I'll just let them tell me their history.

It does sound crazy when I type it out but, I'm telling you, it's never failed to work. It's not like I'm actually talking out loud to them. I only do that in places where I know people won't see me. No, I just let it be a thought process between us. I've learned some fascinating things about my characters that way.

I suppose to a non-writer, that really does sound a little mental. After all, if I create a character, I should know everything about him/her already, right?

Not for me. I think I've explained before that I never really feel like I create the characters. They just sort of find me and they're the ones that guide my story. I tried hard to steer my last novel but my main character just didn't change the way he was supposed to and I ended up with a different version of my novel than the one I'd originally planned. The one that I did finish was better, it was twistier, darker but also ended much differently than the novel I'd set out write. I think that was the moment when I truly did realize that I don't control my novels, the characters do. I like that.

So, the question is, do I still keep up the ever-necessary quest to find an agent, stalling future writing in hopes that my past writing will get notice or do I take a break and write something new, riding out the storm of this nasty economy and hope that publishing takes an upswing and agents are more willing to read unpublished author's work?

I think I'll see what happens. I'll keep my mind open to new characters, new music, new ideas and, when I'm ready, I'll start a new novel. I think that's the best I can do. I'd say I was holding out to win the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award but, as I've said, that's a crapshoot, something for me to do with a finished novel rather than a place to truly pin my hopes and dreams. It's just another unanswered question like those queries I sent to agents; I never thought I'd want to be rejected but better that than no response at all, I suppose. I always was a creature who liked closure.

You know, I am starting to get an idea for a novel about the DMV so maybe I will start something new.

Happy Tuesday.

Happy New Year!

It's New Year's Eve. I feel as though I should write a deep and meaningful blog, a reflection of this past year. Or I should give my best and worst for the year as other bloggers seem to be doing. There's nothing wrong with that. Ok, so I don't often agree with the choice for the best of 2008 but then again, once I find something I like, whether it be music or not, it becomes my 'best', regardless of what year it's from. For example, if asked what the best album of 2008 is, I would say "Green Day: American Idiot." Ok, so it was released in 2004 but it's still the album I listen to most and since nothing really came out that made me drop this from my 'best' list, then it's still the best.

So, that's why I won't do a Captain Monkeypants 'Best of 2008' list. Because my 2008 is your 2004 or 2005. And once something's the best, it's hard to top that.

Instead, I'll do what I seem to do best...ramble for a while.

New Years Eve has never been a hugely momentous event in my life. Many of my years have been spent quietly at home with my parents, drinking Baileys, occasionally champagne and turning off a movie to watch the ball drop. This may read like I'm pathetic. Perhaps I am. Yet the thing is, I adore my parents. They love me unconditionally and they're always there for me. I know the trendy thing to do is go to a party and kiss someone at midnight but if I don't have anyone I want to kiss at midnight, well, then a quiet evening in with my parents is actually a rather nice alternative.

Ok, so there have been times when there's someone I wish would kiss me at midnight but I've never been much of a romantic heroine and it never happens.

The odd occasion where I've been away from home for New Years have been interesting. One year, I had to go back to school early and my roommate and I tried to go to a New Years Eve party but by the time it was 11 p.m., almost the entire body of the party was either drunk or stoned. It was clear that the seeing in of the New Year wasn't going to happen unless the host of the party stopped throwing up enough to remember what night it was so we slipped out the back door, went home, grabbed a bottle of strawberry wine and went and watched the Midnight fireworks dance over the Ohio river. I have to say, that was a nice way to see in the New Year.

Another year, I was in Pasadena, crammed like a sardine into my friend's living room. That was a fun night. It was a houseful of people, all just relaxing. It was freezing and it was hard to stay warm. We crammed around a little fireplace, warming ourselves enough to go outside. We all planned on seeing in the New Year, watching the Stealth Bomber fly over in the morning, signaling the start of the Rose Parade.

Well, we did see in the New Year. Yet we all managed to sleep until we heard the bomber flying overhead. By the time we all sprinted outside, we'd missed it. We managed to wander up to watch the Rose Parade, a truly amazing spectacle. I don't think watching it on TV does it justice; the sight of a million flowers, wound into patterns, designs, ornaments, adornments....it's truly something to watch live.

Tonight, I've been invited to a party. I was excited to go to a real one. Unfortunately, though, my return to the Midwest from the moderate temperature of L.A. is playing havoc on my immune system and I'm coughing and sneezing and feeling generally unlike imbibing and infecting others with my germs. I may try to go but it may end up being a quiet New Year's after all. It honestly doesn't matter. To me, it's not what you're doing on New Year's Eve that matters but it's how you pass the following year that does.

2008 has been a strange year. It's been a year of loss, change, old and new experiences. It's been a year when I've learned that friends can also be family, that dreams don't die, they just strengthen and grow stronger. It's been a year when I've learned that the important things don't have to be huge, they can be tiny and still mean just as much.

I don't know if I have resolutions for the new year that I don't make every day. It's something to think about, I guess. The year starts anew and we're supposed to also but do we, really? Do we really become better people tomorrow because the year has started over? Do our slates really clean and give us a new chance?

What does the turning of a year offer us that we wouldn't have on any other tomorrow? It's all symbolic, that I know. Yet maybe there is something in the closing of the year that does make everything feel fresh, feel new. Maybe there is a reason to resolve to do things better, to try harder, to reach harder and grab tighter to the dreams we have in our hearts and minds.

Whether I celebrate as a group or I see the New Year in alone, it really makes no difference, I suppose. It will happen, regardless of what I'm doing. My friends in the UK will be in 2009 five hours before I am, my friends in California, three hours after. It's a strange time when midnight hits on New Years: time travel is actually possible. I like that aspect, it's exciting.

I suppose I should think about New Years Resolutions. Perhaps I should resolve to not be so mean about Stephanie Meyer. Although, since it's still 2008, I can safely say the WORST book of the year is definitely Breaking Dawn without breaking that resolution. I'll work on the rest.

In the meantime, no matter what you end up doing or who you end up with, I wish you all a happy and prosperous new year. Here's to 2009, a year of hope and newness.

-CM 12-31-08

Snow, Writing and Other More Lyrical Musings Than I Had in Mind When I Sat Down to Write This

So, I told you yesterday it was snowing. It made me very happy. Happier still was the me that got to drive home in the twirling, whirling cascading snow that threatened to settle but never did. By the time I got to my apartment, it was snowing quite hard.

I've been waiting for it to snow since last year when I stood out on my parent's deck on Christmas Night, looked up at the snow and told myself that I had to come back to the Midwest. I missed snow. I missed my parents. I missed my brothers and sisters. I missed my nieces and nephews. I felt like it was time to come back.

When I left Indiana to move to L.A., I had a dream of being a screenwriter. I think almost any writer who does move to L.A. has the same dream. It wasn't an easy path to take but I tried anyway. I didn't get very far in my quest. I learned to write dialogue by writing screenplays. I entered contests. I got an agent to request a script but I didn't get further than that. And then, one day, I got stuck on an ending to a script. It wasn't working and I needed to rewrite it. I brainstormed how to do it, thought of everything and nothing worked.

So I decided to try writing a novel. I'd just read Stephen King's fantastic book, On Writing, and he made me think I could write a novel. So I tried it. And it was good. You know in movies where the hero or heroine has a sudden ephiphany and you hear the "Hallelujah!" chorus to signify the magnitude of the moment? That's how I felt when I sat down to write a novel. I could hear the Hallelujah chorus in my head. It was like a rush of air, a feeling of warmth slowly flooding through me. I always compare screenplays and novels to lying in a bed. A screenplay is like lying in a small twin bed in which you have a limited space. You have to show a story and convey it in dialogue tightly, concisely with nothing extraneous. And then, with a novel, it's like moving up to a king size bed. You can spread out, take your time to explain things, describe things, the dialogue has to be good but it doesn't have to be rushed. For me, it was almost like coming home.

And so, I wrote a novel. Then another one. Then three more in the series. After that, I took a break but I heard Green Day's "American Idiot" album and I needed to write again. I took that album and I let it guide me through a story, not stealing from the album but, rather, letting it weave through my story like a silent, invisible spiderweb. After that, I wrote a few query letters but nothing happened. I buried my disappointment in another novel, one that was supposed to be light and fluffy but ended up being somewhat dark and twisty. I took another break and wrote short stories but again, got disillusioned by rejection, becoming slightly bitter.

I wrote another novel. This one darker and drier than the other fare. I have a dry sense of humour. It tends to show through in my writing. You might have noticed that.

And that's where I am now. Eight novels under my belt during a seven-year stint in L.A. That's not a bad effort but it's also a good place to stop and wonder if I had to live there. And I realized I didn't. I could live anywhere.

So I moved. I'm back in a place where it rains and snows. Where the trees turn beautiful colours in the Autumn. When the dark, cold days of January and February bleach the world of all colour and show a landscape of barren nothingness, often coated with ice or rain. But it's also a place where, in March, a few balmy spring days let the crocuses and daffodils that have shyly and bravely pushed their stalks up into the cold frozen ground suddenly decide that it's time to bloom. And so the world begins to change into a spring landscape; the ice and snow melt, the flattened soggy ground begins to dry and spring hits, full force.

Last night, I stood on my balcony, my hands wrapped around a mug of Williams Sonoma Peppermint Hot Chocolate (SO worth the splurge) and let the snow fall on me. Snow is peaceful to me. There is nothing more tranquil than looking out onto a world covered in freshly fallen snow, sounds are muffled, the light is brighter in reflection. Seeing the snowflakes fall eased the back-of-my-mind worries that I'd done the right thing in leaving the friends I'd made in L.A., the life I'd carved out for myself. I miss them a lot. I miss my routines, the restaurants, the movies, USC football...everything that defined my life there. But standing there, watching the snow, calmed those worries and eased the last of my doubt.

This morning, I got up and found that the sun was shining but the telltale signs of the snowfall were still around, encrusted onto my windshield, patches of unmelted flakes clustered in the shadows. I woke up to a song on the radio that actually inspired my first novel, a song that fills me with the remembered passion I felt while having that epiphany that this was it. This was what I was supposed to do. And now, with the first snowfall of the season melting away, it's time to begin again. To write again. To stop looking at the things I left and look at the life I have now, car wrecks, speeding tickets included.

It's supposed to snow again on Thursday. I hope it does. I love this time of year. I heard that it's in the '80's in L.A. I like this weather better.

Ask me again in February though. I never said I couldn't be fickle.

Happy Tuesday.