A Hodge Podge of History and Current Events

Down to the final chapter. Huzzah. I guess. It's going to go over budget. No stopping it now. I only have about 2,000-words remaining. To make budget I will have to cut 80% of the final chapter. Can't do it. Not that much. So I'm going to be over. Pity.

The bigger pity is the query letter. Oh, that is going to s*ck trying to write. I've never written a query letter yet that anyone liked, much less felt inspired to read my work because. Whatever. I'll deal with that next week. Some time today (or tomorrow, more likely) I will finish my latest revision of Traitor. It will be done. Finished. Complete. Until someone tells me I have to edit it again. Cr*p.

On a lighter note, here are a few things I found in the bin of old photographs, newspaper clippings, and other odds and ends. (Got a couple of old button hooks. That's what Mother said they are, anyway. People used to use them to help button up their shoes. They have to near one hundred years old. Kind of cool.)

Here are two poems my grandmother wrote. No idea as to when. They were written on 3"x5" pieces of paper. Not titles. Some corrections. Terrible handwriting. I'm not sure of some of the words and so have guessed.

Waiting
by Amy Holmes

Waiting the hours of my life spent waiting
Inside a car hot, tiresome I sit waiting
At Doctor’s office where others wait I too sit waiting
The hours the minutes crawl as waiting I sit

(The reference to the doctor almost makes me think this was a recent piece, and she should be known as Amy Mulnix.)

Where are They
by Amy Holmes

I saw it standing by the way
Sunken sills door away
Roof with shingles born away
Windows pane less sightless eye

The yard with brambles long over grown
Winter winds around it shrink and moan
A silo that had once held feed
For cattle’s milk production need

Now leans at an angle propping indicated
The barn collapsed where it had waited
Often I wonder as I pass
Where are they now who lived there last

For some reason, Grandma cut out a piece from a Sunday paper, dated August 7, 1938. (My birthday was on a Tuesday that year - or would have been had I been born.) The article is titled, "Stories of Famous Hymns: A Mighty Fortress is Our God", by Horace B Powell. Did a Google search on Mr. Powell and got no results. Must have been a local writer.

What I find interesting is not the article my grandmother saved. Rather, it's what's on the back. There is part of an article about England's treaty with Italy. (Remember, this is 1938. World War II.) The headline reads, "England's Bol". The rest is cut off. The sub title reads, "Britain's Treaty With Italy Based on Idea Fascists Plan About Face, But Does Mussolini Play a Deeper Game?" The article talks about a general war almost being inevitable, Germany "mobilizing her entire population on this assumption", Poland not remaining true to the French system of "collective security", Neville Chamberlain's believe Italy could be "won back". Only four paragraphs, but kind of interesting.

Below that is a Dorothy Dix column. I checked on Dorothy Dix, too. This is what Wikipedia says about her:

Dorothy Dix (November 18, 1861 – December 16, 1951), was the pseudonym of U.S. journalist Elizabeth Meriwether Gilmer.

As the forerunner of today's popular advice columnists, Dorothy Dix was America's highest paid and most widely read female journalist at the time of her death. Her advice on love and marriage was syndicated in newspapers around the world. With an estimated audience of 60 million readers, she became a popular and recognized figure on her travels abroad.

Her name is the origin of the term Dorothy Dixer, a widely-used phrase in Australia meaning a question from the floor that enables the speaker to make or strengthen a point he wanted to get across, especially in Parliament.

I don't have the entire question, nor Dorothy's complete answer, but it seems people were struggling with the redefining of male/female roles even in 1938. This is what I've got.

Dear Miss Dix - Does the modern man no longer expect to support his wife? I am a good-looking girl with a good job and I have had several proposals of marriage, but..." (no more)

The next section is in bold. It may, or may not, be Dorothy's reply. It is broken in two parts, or there are two separate bold sections.

"...supported herself before marriage can just as well do it after marriage, and that there is no reason for him to toil to pay for hte bread and butter of one who can perfectly well provide herself with cake. Also, he argues that their combined earnings will give them many more luxuries..."

"...woman can toil all day in an office or shop, come home and clean up the house, get dinner and be a bright and vivacious companion with whom her husband will enjoy stepping out of an evening."

Three stars, and then regular type. No bold.

"The old order was that the man should be the provider and the woman the homemaker. You..."

I would really love to get a copy of that newspaper. Unfortunately, I don't even know which newspaper it was. Based on the year, I am guessing it was a paper from Sandstone, MN, but I'm not certain.

This is really fascinating. Well, to me it is.

I love history when it's written by real people.

Have a great day.

Another Unrecognized Post

I've learned that when I changed a post it doesn't take on the current date. And even if I change the date in Post Options, Blogger still won't recognize it as a new post. That's what I did here and on A Voice in the Wind. So this post is simply to flag that I have a new post today. See the one below.

Monday's Progress

Despite taking two naps today I managed to get two more completed. I'm well past 100,000-words, which is unfortunate. But I've only three chapters to go and an interlude. Only all three chapters are over budget, and each larger then the one which came before. Currently, they add up to over 22,000-words. WAY too many. I must find a way to reduce them by the size of the final chapter. Good luck, Bevie.

It isn't going to require luck. I have a big decision to make. The sub-plot between Khirsha and Tavaar is important, even for Traitor. But the most important information is for Books Four and beyond. What I must do is find a way to drop the threads for Books Four, Five and Six, and yet tie up the threads pertaining to Traitor.

The final chapter has a ton of information. I'm thinking (hoping) I can cut the dickens (as opposed to Dickens [grin]) out of it and still have a coherent ending.

We're slated to have eight inches of snow tomorrow. Spouse doesn't work. I'll have the day, but with Spouse home it's unlikely I'll get a lot done. If I can wake early - like I did today (2:30 a.m.) - I could theoretically finish it tomorrow. It's looking very much like I will finish it this week. That's assuming nothing goes amiss.

Why Can't I Multi-Task

When I was younger I worked as a cook in a pizza restaurant. In those days ALL restaurant pizza was cooked on stone. None of this "modern" conveyor belt crud. We made our own dough and our own sauce. We shredded the cheese, chopped the vegetables, and mixed the spices into the meats. Except pepperoni. But we had to slice that.

Cooking meant not just pizza. We also served pasta: spaghetti, ravioli, and lasagna. We had deep fried chicken. We had french fries. We cooked burgers and made grilled cheese. Toast.

My point? I used to do all of that. At the same time! I multi-tasked. I could monitor five orders cooking while I prepared a sixth for the ovens and stoves. Very seldom did I burn anything. It did happen, but strangely, seldom when we were busy. I still recall a slow night when it was just the boss's son, a waitress and myself. We had got a phone call for a pepperoni pizza. I made it and went to sit with the Manager and waitress. A car pulled up. Suddenly, I remembered! I ran to the oven. The pizza was black. The man came to the counter even as I was running the dough through the roller (we didn't toss it).

"It will be just a minute," I said.

The manager (boss's son) walked into the kitchen and over to the stove. He opened it and peered in. Then he stood beside it grinning at me as I put in the new pepperoni pizza. Fortunately, a pepperoni pizza didn't take long to cook. When the pizza was finished and I had bagged (not boxed) it, the customer paid for it (only $3,00 back then) and left. That was when the boss's son laughed out loud at me. He threatened to make me eat the burned pizza, but I knew he was joking.

Anyway, back to multi-tasking.

Why can't I multi-task with my writing? I had no less than three great story ideas since Christmas. Started to write a couple, but left off right away. This morning I was struck with another cool idea. I'm not even going to waste my time. The Muses won't help me work on more than one big story at a time. Oh, I can write poetry. I might even get a short work done, like Apprentice. But a full story? Forget it.

It's hard even for me to keep up with housework when a story is flowing, such as Traitor is now. (Thanks again, LaughingWolf.) I let the dishes pile up and Spouse - gets annoyed. Haven't vacuumed in ages. (But since the carpet's so filthy you can't hardly tell. [grin])

Haven't seriously practiced the bass in weeks. Son hasn't said anything, but I know he's put out about it. He liked playing songs with me. But he is practicing and I can no longer keep up with him. I have to play so slow.

When the Muses tell me to write a story, they won't help with other things. (Not that I need their help with housework. Wait. I take that back. I do need their help with housework.)

Why can't I multi-task anymore? I have other cool stories to write. But Traitor is taking up all of my creative time. It's appropriately named. Thanks, LaughingWolf.

Sing With Me and Dream On

Today I write about music. However, I also want to brag that I completed two chapters this morning. Not only that, but BOTH came in under the new budget. In fact, I gained nearly 1,000-words between them. I did this be eliminated a 1,000-word scene between Khirsha and his great-grandmother. She went to the cutting room floor, so to speak. Poor old woman. First she lost her husband. Now she's lost herself. But the information she gives is really more for Book II.

So. Music. What do I write? Not sure. Haven't listened to much variety this week. Been so frickin' busy.

I don't know what kind of music I feel like listening to right now. Ever have that? Some people don't. They listen to the same stuff all the time. Now I'm certainly not beyond listening to even the same song over and over and over again, but my taste in music floats like a piece of fluff on a river. It tends to go where it goes without effort.

The 60's rock 'n' roll and the 50's rhythm and blues tend to be my favorites. But I like rockabilly, old country and western, folk, classical, jazz, and comedy tunes. It all depends on my mood.

I've still got Under My Wheels on Cat in the Buff, but that's not my energy level today. So I went to YouTube and put on Patti LaBelle's On My Own. Not sure that's my mood either. But it's closer than Alice Cooper.

The problem is that I don't know what I want to feel. That's the position I find myself in when I can't identify my mood. It's like I get to choose. Not sure what I want.

Just found something appropriate. Aerosmith's Dream On. Story of my life. I guess Alice Cooper was closer after all. Go figure.

And I Thought I Was Doing So Well

Over on SOF-The People I posted about how cool it would be if my Swords of Fire Saga were to be published and successful, inspiring other writers to write stories from The Great Sea. Hey, I can dream, can't I?

There are so many stories I want to write. I can't keep up.

Back some time in the 1980s I drove to Wheaton College, near Chicago, IL, for a Christian Writers' Conference. It was the first time I had ever traveled so far from home on my own. One of the classes I took was by Myrna Grant, an established Christian author. (I couldn't find a Myrna Grant website, but here is a link to her credentials.) I liked her from the first. (Probably because she liked what I wrote.) One of the things she taught was that writers need to "find their place". Hers happened to be in Russia. She wrote a book, Vanya, about a young Russian soldier's experiences after becoming a Christian during a time of religious suppression.

Since she said that I have often thought about "my place". This is not the same as one's Happy Place, which I posted about before. This is about the place where one's stories are set. Myrna Grant wrote about Russia. Others write about city living. Some write about the hills of Appalachia. Others may write about the tundra, or deep in the ocean's depths.

My place is in medieval fantasy worlds. I guess that's why I made The Great Sea. I made it before hearing Myrna Grant's words. But it is my place. I can write most of my stories from The Great Sea and they do not have to relate to each other. All of those worlds mean independent stories. It's comforting to know I have a place for so many stories.

It is wearying to know virtually none of those stories are started, much less finished.

Speaking of that, I completed Chapter Fourteen (Judgement) today. Once again, Khirsha is in trouble. Serious trouble. The kind of trouble which is contagious to those around him. He may have just provided his grandfather's adversaries with what they need to remove him from being Head-of-Family. Not only that, but Sayla is involved, too. Oh, Khirsha. When will you learn?

The chapter came in significantly over word budget, despite my reducing its size by nearly 1,000-words. So once again I am about 2,500-words over budget. The good news is there are only a few chapters remaining. The bad news is I goofed on the chapter count. For some reason I was thinking there were only nineteen. There are twenty-two. This means my goal of 6,000-word chapters is too high. To achieve a word total of under 130,000-words I have to reduce the goal for the remaining eight chapters to 5,000-words. Quite a goal when I look and see only one of the remaining eight comes anywhere near that. No wonder I thought I was doing so well regarding story size. I had neglected to count about 20,000-words. Sigh.

I really do not want to have to go through this thing and tear apart more words. I hate it that so many assumptions are made regarding first books. I hate it that second and third books can violate all of those rules, and fourth books and beyond don't even have to be good. How many authors have I read who's works became less and less interesting as they added books? I won't name names, because someone is bound to get p*ssed off because I named one of their favorite authors.

But finding I have three more chapters than I thought was really bad news for me. I'm at 90,000-words. The book is supposed to be almost finished.

Ahhhhhhh!

A Non-Writing Day

Today I got nothing done regarding my writing. That's okay, I guess. February was mostly productive and I'm only six or seven chapters away from finishing. This week was busy and I feel lucky to have completed two chapters and an interlude (these are roughly 1,000-word asides in which the reader gets a chance to learn what the antagonist is up to).

Today I brought my brother to the airport. To do that, I had to meet him at my niece's house. My brother was borrowing my sister's car and living in her townhouse, but my sister needs her car to be at her daughter's. My niece took her mother on an ocean cruise this week. The original plan was to go to Paris, France, but then the economy went into the toilet and a cruise became much more affordable.

Anyway, it's about forty miles to my niece's house. Then it was sixty miles to the airport. Then it was fifty miles to get home. I don't mind driving, but country driving. City driving s*cks. Especially when I'm driving in areas I do not know, such as the airport.

Got another view of Fort Snelling, and the National Cemetary. I've lived in Minnesota for more than fifty years and have never visited either. Maybe I should take Spouse and Son and do that this summer. If we really are bailing on the state it will be our last chance.

Got caught up on my blog visits. I only did cursory visits Monday and Tuesday, and none at all on Wednesday. Missed some really cool stuff.

I had planned on visiting my mother on the way home from the airport, but after my brother got us lost in St. Paul I felt kind of stressed. He had visited her earlier in the morning and said she was actually doing quite well. And her neighbors were taking care of her very nicely. She was up and about and not complaining of pain. So, feeling reassured (and stressed), I drove home. I was hungry and tired. When I got home I discovered there really wasn't anything good to eat for lunch. I found a freezer meal of some broccoli and shrimp stuff in a container not unlike those used by Chinese restaurants. Bland. So I made a couple of sandwiches and lay down with Firestar to watch a movie. Fell asleep.

I expect the non-writing will continue into tomorrow. My only hope is to wake at my regular time of 4:00 a.m. and get a chapter completed before Spouse and Son wake. Spouse generally works late on Fridays, so I will not have any time to write during the day. Been getting comments about the housework I haven't completed. Wish the d*mn thing would clean itself.

My computer is as fixed as it will be, I think. One of the big CPU users turns out to be the security software itself. Oh, well.

I guess I'm done rambling. Have a good day/night/morning/afternoon. Whatever it happens to be where you are. That's a cool thing about blogging. For some of you it's the middle of the night right now. Sweet dreams.