October 2006 Archives

I didn't realize how accustomed I am to noise and activity. Earlier this evening, I was sitting at my little desk at the mansion, scribbling notes, and all I could hear was the sound of my pen on the paper. Wow. I don't know when I've ever actually heard that sound before. I arrived around 11:30 this morning. I picked up some groceries which included a giant bag of M and M peanuts, then made up my bed and explored the mansion, which is very old and wonderful. It reminds me a little of a cross between Mount Vernon and Monticello, though it's not nearly that old. I often have dreams where I turn a corner in a house only to find yet another room. Then I open a door and find still another. That's what this is like. One room after another. The NC Literary Hall of Fame is here and the vibrations of long-gone writers fill the hallway. Now here's the thing: I'm a news junkie, hooked more than I ever dreamed. Here's there's no radio. No TV. So i took myself out to dinner and now I'm sitting at Panera where I can get internet access . . .  and John's called me three times to tell me what's on CNN. LOL. So I'm not exactly cut off, but I don't know if I've ever been in an environment so conducive to writing. I'm looking forward to a full day of it tomorrow.  I took some pictures, but forgot my uploading doohickey at the mansion. I'll get them on the blog tomorrow. Wait till you see the view from my room!  

I've nearly finished packing for my 5 days away. I have a little suitcase for clothes and toiletries and a giant suitcase for my laptop, alphasmart, research books, notecards, books for the mansion's library etc. i'll be sure to take pictures and try to post, depending on internet access. bye for now!

Okay, now I have a twenty page synopsis of my story. I've changed the title from LOVING ANDY to THE SEA TENDER (who knows how many more title changes there will be). My next step is to break the story down into scenes and narrative. Part of that will be deciding whose point of view each scene will be from, which I'll figure out by  determining who has the most at stake in a scene. There are four point of view characters now: Andy and his sister Maggie. Their mother Joanna. And their uncle, Marcus. I'm going to spend the weekend working this out. Then Monday, I'm going away to a little town in NC where all I'll have to do is write for five days! I'll be staying in an old mansion with some other writers-in-residence. I sooooo can't wait. But I have a lot to get done before then, so it's off to the Opium Den in the morning.  

Well, maybe the internet is the wrong place to find the real world, but it's still a step up from the world I've been in for the last twenty-four hours or so. I'm determined to have the outline of my Work-In-Progress completed by Monday morning, thus I'm totally immersed in the characters. So much so that I nearly forgot my own name. I decided I either needed to connect to the world here on my blog or call a friend (or a shrink!), and if I call a friend I'll talk too long and not get back to work, so here I am! I LOVE when i get this immersed, but it still can be disconcerting. John is gone for the day/evening with friends, so it's me and the pups and a bunch of made-up people. I'm working in the living room,  my papers and notecards spread all over the (blanket-covered) sectional and coffee table. I have a notecard next to me with the words "haunting" "mysterious" and "emotional" written on it in large letters to keep me focused on the tone of the novel. I have several cds in rotation, all my usual deep-in-the- novel music: soundtracks from braveheart, sommersby, dances with wolves, the piano, a beautiful mind, out of africa. music with the power to slay me all on its own. Once I combine it with the struggling, afraid, loving, beloved, confused fictional people in my mind. . . well, let's just say I got overwhelmed. The story took off in a direction I wasn't expecting and all at once, I felt everything my characters were feeling and it was too much at one time. Whew. I feel better now, though. Maybe I should put on some old Motown and dance around the room to ground myself a bit more, but I'm afraid of losing where I am in the story. I promise you, this will be a powerful book!   Thanks for listening. I'm going to dive back in. Plus, I just remembered i have a pint of ben and jerry's chunky monkey in the freezer for later, so I'll be fine!

A few days ago, a reporter for one of the small Topsail Island newspapers called to interview me about my recent trip. I really liked her approach to the topic: she didn't want to know about the story as much as she did about my experience doing the research. We had a good long chat, and then she asked me if anything I discovered surprised me. There were certainly numerous small surprises, but I think what surprised me the most was that there is quite a bit going on beneath a very quiet surface. As I mentioned before, when I first arrived I felt like the only person on the Island. It was so quiet and still and there were very few cars on the road. Then I met the realtors, Lottie and Patsy, followed by the people who operate the little copy center where I could get on line, and then Topsail teen, Anna, and the firefighters. And I read the local paper. Suddenly it became clear that there was a lively network of people and places beneath the quiet facade. That was my surprise--a pleasant one. I often set my books in out of the way places. Although I've never lived in one, I seem drawn to small towns and the way the lives of the residents intersect with one another. I don't know if I'd like that lifestyle, but I certainly like writing about it.

I'm spending the day with Joanna Lockwood. Who's that, you ask? Well, she's a very central character in my WIP, but I seem to have forgotten that fact. I've been so caught up in her adorable teenaged son, Andy, and her aching-for-a-father daughter, (now named) Maggie, that I've been giving poor Joanna short shrift. It occurred to me this week that by opening the book in Andy's point of view, the reader might not realize this is a woman's story, first and foremost. How to fix? That's what I've been struggling with in the back of my mind while goofing off with company for the past couple of days. Andy's chapter is so strong and has such a grabber that I don't want to lose it. Yet, I need to start with Joanna. So my idea as of this morning is to give Joanna some brief journal entries from the time when Andy was a baby and Joanna was in rehab. I'll open with one of those entries.  But I then realized I don't truly know who she was back then except for the emotionless words  I've used to describe her in outline form. To resolve the problem, I'm hanging out with her today. Or rather, I'm hanging out with the Joanna who existed in 1992. Right now we're going to the furniture store because I'm STILL searching for a coffee table or big ottoman. I know she's going to want a drink. Or maybe she only drinks in secret? Hmm. I have much to learn about her--and then I have to relay what I learn to my readers in a way that makes them understand why she is the way she is without losing sympathy for her. And wouldn't it be great if I could find a coffee table in the process?

Last night I dreamt I was carrying around a "baby". It looked a little like a jellyfish and I desperately needed to get it to water. After missing a bus, getting lost, etc, I finally found a plastic bag filled with water and slipped the baby inside. Immediately it pinked up and looked like a healthy little guy. It actually smiled at me. It often feels as though I dream all night long, and variations on the baby dream are frequent, always with the same theme: I need to take care of something (this has varied from a real baby to a frog to an earth shoe (remember earth shoes??) among other things). And I know what these dreams mean. When I first started writing fiction, I was working as a hospital social worker. My writing was limited to notes on patient charts--just the facts, ma'am. I knew I'd started out as a creative person, but my creativity had been stifled by too many years of studenthood and reading books related to my profession. So I went to a Jungian Analyst with the hope of getting my creative groove back. The analyst suggested I keep a dream journal. I did so and began to see the baby theme running through my dreams. At first, the dreams were terrible! I'd be caring for a baby and drop it. I'd need to save a frog from a predator but be too late. I'd carry the earth shoe around, trying to find help for it (???) only to fail. (yes, the earth shoe died :( ) The analyst suggested the baby/frog/shoe and other similar beings I was trying to care for represented my writing. It made sense. I was struggling to once again be creative, to find my voice for fiction, and I wasn't doing well at the task. The analyst and I worked together for about six months. By that time, the babies/shoes/sandals/hats etc in my dreams were fat and happy. Now, all these years later, I know that my baby dreams are clear indicators of how I really feel about my current WIP. Not how I say I feel, not how I think I feel, but how, at the unconscious level, I'm handling the stress and challenge of the work. Like my dream last night indicates, I've taken a few wrong buses on this journey (the setting, some character names, present tense) but the baby is going to be just fine.

Well, that's not completely true. I've discovered a new soundtrack to write to. Beautiful, haunting boys' choir music from the lovely little movie, THE CHORUS. It's playing right now as I type. So, here is the red sectional. It's very very red! I love it, or at least I expect to love it when the rest of the room is in sync with it. The walls will be a deep taupe and John's vivid floral photographs will be on the wall above it. We're going crazy (well, I am. John is able to not think about these things) trying to figure out what to do for a coffee table. There's not much room for an end table at the one end of the sectional, so the coffee table really must serve everyone, which means it will be a monster or else something creative, like nesting tables. the ones i've seen i don't like. any ideas? we both love the noguchi table (right), but i don't think it's big enough. also, we HAVE to be able to put our feet on it. this is our comfy room, nothing formal about it.     While I had the camera out, the boys were looking so cute, I had to take their picture. That's Jet on the left and Keeper on the right. They're being attentive only because it's time for dinner. :)                                                                                      

I spent most of today (once I finally got out of bed. . . ) copying over the pages and pages of messy notes I took on my trip to Topsail.  I also thought of new ways to make certain facets of my story work, since my research told me that some of my previous plans were flawed. I still have a few things to think through. I hope I can simply dream some solutions overnight, since tomorrow is another art show and I won't have time to think, much less plot. Some more info on Topsail Island: it's a 26 mile long barrier island containing three towns/villages. It's very "uncommercialized," which is part of it's appeal. There's one stoplight on the entire island! North Topsail Beach is where I stayed in the condo and where my characters will live. There are a few restaurants and that's about it. Surf City is the largest town in the center of the island, and some of the "action" will take place there, most notably an horrific fire. The lone stoplight is in Surf City. Topsail Beach is the southernmost town and home to the turtle museum. I don't think much of my story will be set there, although I must mention The Quarter Moon bookstore, which I drove the length of the island twice to visit! My last research visit yesterday was to the Surf City Fire Department, where Fire Marshal Ken Bogan (left) and firefighter Kevin Head spent a couple of hours helping me figure out part of my story and giving me tons and tons of great information. Like everyone else I met, they were simply super. I'll be sending you guys some books, so watch your mail box!         

  This trip turned out better than I imagined. I've gathered so much info! But first, I'll show you a photo taken from the balcony of my neighbor's  condo where I'm staying. Nice, huh? This is NOT typical of Topsail (pronounced "top-sul") Island. You'll see more typical architecture in other pixes. Anyhow, the Realtor I met "by accident," Lottie Koenig, has been a treasure! Yesterday, she and fellow Realtor Patsy Jordan and I had lunch. Patsy's lived in North Topsail since 1985, and she helped me figure out where my characters  live--on Stump Sound. Here's a view from "their" house. And here I am with Patsy and Lottie.               Patsy told me about a teenage girl who lives near her: Jackpot! There are not many teens living on the Island, especially in North Topsail (around ten), so I'd given up on the idea of being able to speak with one, but Patsy made a call and later that afternoon, I met with Anna, a sixteen-year-old girl who was simply a delight. I learned what life would be like for Andy and Allie (or whatever her name turns out to be!), where they would go to school etc, what recreational activities would be available for them, etc. It was super. Here are some more pictures I took yesterday. At the northern end of the island stand these condemed homes, between the puny dunes and the ocean. This is where I'll be setting an important house in my story, so I was very interested to investigate these homes.           Houses near the water are built on stilts, for obvious reasons. This is one of the condemned homes.             The house in my story, though, will be round, like this one. I think I'm choking my blog--it's protesting! So i'll continue later. I just finished a two and a half hour interview with the asst firechief and some of the firefighters. Everyone's been so great about sharing what they know. Bye for now.

Growl. I only had a few minutes to stop in here at the Pony Express and download some pixes for the blog, but when I went to the admin panel for the blog i discovered 59 comments, 56 of them to the very first post on the blog, which I have now deleted becauses it was the easiest route to get rid of the garbage. I thought I'd foiled the bloggers with my blacklist of words (any post containing nasty words was immediately deleted), but they've now foiled me, big time. I may have to invest in the software that will help me fight it. Anyhow, I've added some new words to my blacklist, so don't write to me about masturbation or thongs, because i will never see it! I'm off for a tour of the island and hope to make it back to the pony express later to add some pixes. Sorry to be crabby!

My trip got moved back a day, but here I am! I arrived around 2:30, settled into my neighbor's GORGEOUS condo in north topsail. (I'll get some pictures up tomorrow). I got some groceries, then went for a drive. Hardly saw a soul! Tuesdays in October are not a hot time in Topsail. That's fine, but I was feeling kind of lonely. I decided to look for a bookstore, remembering the Quarter Moon Bookstore from the only other time I was here. I got lost (how do you get lost on an island with one main road??) so I stopped in a real estate office. Turns out the woman I asked is a reader of my books! Her name's Lottie and she was alsmost as happy to meet me as I was to meet her. She's going to try to set up a meeting for me tomorrow with someone very familiar with the area. That'll be great, because I can already see my story has some geographic problems I'll need to solve. Then Thursday morning, I meet with the firechief. I'm typing this from the only place I could find with internet access, The Pony Express, which is a printing/copy place and it closes in three minutes! So I'll sign off for tonight and check in again sometime tomorrow.