Quite a pumpkin find!

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We went to a pumpkin patch/corn maze yesterday.

Getting lost in the maze was fun, but finding these pumpkins really made my day.
Who needs to carve pumpkins when they grow this scary all on their own?
This one I named Warty, for obvious reasons.
But this beauty is a little trickier.
I know it’s a pumpkin, because I picked it myself in a pumpkin patch,
but look at those kernel-like bumps!
It is a lot more corn-like than it is pumpkin-like.
Maybe it decided to be corn for Halloween. If so, great costume!
So should I call it Cornkin?
Or Pumpkorn?
Decisions, decisions.

“Take a selfie here!”

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This summer we did a bit of traveling. One of the places we visited was Oxnard, California.

The hotel was fantastic, which meant it was clean, comfortable, and convenient. I was impressed by both it’s proximity to the beach and the fact that the one bedroom suite had two bathrooms.

But I was not impressed with the multitude of “Take a selfie here!” signs stuck all over the place, cluttering up the scenery.

Did the hotel management really think people needed to be encouraged to take selfies? Have they never walked down pretty much any street, anywhere?

Me, I’m not into selfies. Why should I waste time taking pictures of me? I can see me any time I want. All I have to do if find a mirror and BAM, there I am.

Instead, I’d rather capture the unique and/or illusive. Like these black flowers.
I’ve never seen flowers quite like these in Seattle.
Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.
Well worth a picture.

Switching gears

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Writing a novel requires very different mind muscles than those needed to write a screenplay. Which is why I switch back and forth. To grow better, stronger writing muscles.

At least, that’s what I hope I’m doing.

But it’s not easy, switching back and forth.

In order to write a novel I must examine every minute detail. Novels are written from the inside, so  I put on scuba gear and dive right in. I become part of the inner circle, privy to every thought, every action, every dream.

Then I find a way to share the secrets with the reader in a way that makes sense, and a good story. (At least I hope I do.)

It can be intense. I’ve been known to get lost inside my character’s heads.
Trust me, with some characters that can be a tad scary.

But screenwriting is different. Screenplays are written from the outside. So I strip off the scuba gear and pull out the old binoculars. Screenplays require a bit of distance. What you see is what you get.

Of course, that doesn’t make it any less intense, only different.

My poor brain usually balks at the shift. I’ve not yet been able to put aside one, and immediately pick up the other.

So after I finished the DTA2 draft I gave my brain a couple of days of rest. Kind of a way to oil the gears.

Yesterday I opened up a partially outlined screenplay. The SCREECH from my brain when I tried to read what I had written so far was horrendous. It was so loud it scared my eyes, and they refused to even take a peek.

But this morning was different. Overnight oil had dripped onto the cogs and everything slid into place. My brain had shifted gears.

Time to pump up those mind muscles!

A different kind of book talk

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I finished the first draft of my 6th novel (code name: DTA2) yesterday. It was quite a struggle. I’ve never had a book fight me like this one did.

It was giving me such a hard time that I finally had to sit the book down and have a long talk. It was enlightening, once we got the pleasantries out of the way.

Me: What do you mean, you’re not going to let me finish! I have to finish!
Book: No you don’t. You’ll never finish. You’ll just push me aside, like you always do.
Me: Push you aside? What are you talking about? I’ve never-
Book: Look at me. You started me in first person, then switched to third.
Me: Well, I thought you’d work better-
Book: You left me this way!
Me: Yes, but-
Book: Don’t ‘yes, but’ me! I’m a mess because of you. Look how lopsided I am!
Me: Just until I write the ending-
Book: Which you never will.
Me: Of course I will. I-
Book: Don’t kid yourself. Until I’m fixed, until I can hold my head tall and not tilt to the side, there will be no ending. And that’s final. I’m not going to be ‘one of those’ books who goes around half undone. Do it right, or don’t do it at all.
Me: But I promise! As soon as-
Book: You’ll get caught up in another project. I know you. Fix me now or leave me alone forever.
Me: But-

That’s when I found myself talking to a blank page.

So I caved. I had to, the book was right. I would want to set it aside as soon as I wrote the ending.

I spent three solid days converting the first 80 pages of the book from first person to third. As soon as that was done, the book moved out of my way and let me write that ending.

I hate it when my book is right and I’m wrong.

Clouds

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Yesterday was one of those days.

No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get into writing, and when I took the dog for a walk it was cold and wet and the clouds were cluttering the sky so much it was impossible for even a single ray of sun to break through.

After the walk all I wanted to do was take a nap.

Today has been so different! I woke with an overwhelming compulsion to write, so write I did. When I came up for air to I take the dog for a walk I was rewarded by a glorious sun warming a perfectly blue sky.

Which makes me wonder.

Was yesterday as gloomy and cloudy as I remember? Was that why I couldn’t write?

Or do I remember it gloomy and cloudy because I couldn’t write?

Does it really matter what the weather is outside?

Or do I see clouds when my head is cloudy, and sun only when it’s clear?

Through a virtual wormhole

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Today I had a shocking surprise.


I fell through a virtual wormhole and found myself in the World That Time (and Commonsense) Forgot.


Yep. It was crazy. There I was on the Internet, searching for an event in the past that could, if changed, result in a drastic alteration to the present.


It was research for a book, so don’t get all worried. I don’t have a time machine that will let me swoop through history, making changes to the timeline that will either make the world wonderful, or destroy it.
Not yet, anyway.

Anyway, one thing led to another, and before I knew it I’d been sucked into that wormhole I mentioned earlier, and discovered that the residents of the WTT(C)F  had absolutely no respect for women. Worse than that, they seemed to think women should be treated more as property than people.


According to them all women are weak, inferior creatures with fluff instead of brains.
Which I find odd, since I know just as many strong, intelligent women as men. 


Now, don’t get me wrong. This is not the first time I’ve run into someone with a bad case of sexism. But the misogyny I witnessed in the WTT(C)F was horrifying and rampant!


I scrambled out of that wormhole as quick as I could. Of course now I’ll have to clear my cache and my history to make sure no remnant of the WTT(C)F survives anywhere on my computer. 


It makes me shiver in disgust, just to think about it.


Luckily, I’ll get over it pretty quickly. I’m tough.


I have a long history of doing well academically, so I’ve never believed that bull that men are intellectually superior to women. 


I wonder when the human race will stop stereotyping, and just judge each individual …well, individually?


A hundred years?
Two?

Getting back to writing

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A forced break from writing can be good, but not if it occurs at the point when there are only two chapters left to write.

Just two. And the book will be finished.
(Except for revisions, of course, but who counts those?)

As the time for the trip approached I tried my best to reach the end of the book. I knew how awkward it would be to have to dive in and begin again at the end.

But no matter what I did, the end of the story remained just out of reach.

Worst of all, that naughty storyline kept tangling itself around my feet and tripping me up.

It was frustrating. More than once I saw the finish, there at the end of what looked to be a straight flat road. So off I’d race, full tilt, happy that the way was clear.

Only to find myself flat on my face, my feet all tangled up in plot.

I guess the story wants me to take my time and untangle all those knotty places in the plot. No racing through to the finish!

It might take me a little while. I know me pretty well, and once my writing routine is interrupted, it can take a bit to get back into the rhythm of writing.

Hope those two chapters have more patience that I do!

 

Apartment living – an education in greed

We spent a year in Cadence Apartments in Ballard (formerly known as Lockhaven). Life is all about new experiences that teach us, and our experiences in that apartment complex certainly were educational.

About greed.

Lesson One: Always do your research

This is one of those lessons, as a librarian, I shouldn’t have had to learn.

If we had done our research we would have known the history of the place, and we never would have moved in. Any company that kicks out long-term residents (we’re talking over thirty years), just so they could renovate and charge triple the rent, is a company with a wallet where the heart should be.

Too bad we didn’t find out that little tidbit until after we’d signed the lease.

Lesson Two: Wait until the apartment is move-in ready before you sign

We had already sold our house and needed a place to live, so we were in a bit of a hurry. Which explains why we signed the lease before we saw the finished product. The apartment we saw lacked finished floors, the bathroom was bare of the normal bathroom parts, and none of the appliances had been installed. But we were told only the best would be used in the renovations.

We weren’t concerned. We trusted that the complex owners would make sure the renovations were topnotch. They had their reputation to protect. Besides, why would they cut corners on their investment?

But when we moved in we found that someone had decided to keep the old tub as-is, which was so stained it was hard to tell what color it was supposed to be. I sighed a little as I realized I’d never feel comfortable soaking in that nasty tub. So a year of only showers it was. Lesson learned.

Lesson Three: Check everything!

It didn’t take long to learn the water was undrinkable. I don’t know if it was the pipes or something else, but it was the most disgusting water I’d ever spit out. I actually saw things floating in it. We had to invest in a water filter right away.

And then there were the floors. I could shower to minimize contact with the tub and filter the gunk out of my drinking water, but to get from one side of the apartment to the other, I had to cross the floor. And no matter how carefully I walked, no matter how much tip I put on my toes, every step sounded like I’d offended a mouse on steroids.

Who renovates an apartment building but doesn’t fix the squeaky floors? Isn’t that kinda basic, especially since it’s an easy fix? Find the squeak, nail down the loose board. All you really need are a few nails and a little time.

Lesson Four: Priorities

The number of things that happened that let me know the tenant’s welfare was not a number one concern continued to grow. My favorite example has to do with a broken lock.

Someone had jimmied open the outer door of my building, and broken the lock in the process. It no longer locked. I notified the manager and received the promise that it would be fixed immediately.

I saw the locksmith arrive the very next day–to change the lock on the office door. Then a team of specialists spent the next week updating the security system that protected the office.

The office, mind you. The lock on our building stayed broken. So much for living in a secured building.

It was more than a week before anyone got around to fixing that broken lock. It was painfully obvious that the safety of the tenants was not top priority.

Lesson learned. We, the residents, were not important.

Lesson Five: It’s all about the money

After our year lease was up we moved out. Even though I’d witnessed multiple examples of what I consider bad business practices, I was still surprised when, out of the $950 we plopped down to move in ($550 refundable), the manager, Ms. Greedy-pants, decided to only give us back a mere $150. Even though we left the apartment clean and didn’t do any damage.

I called to talk to her about it, and she claimed the part she kept was for administrative costs. Hmm.

Lesson Six: Push back


Even though the company as a whole has shown signs that the greed is part of the company-wide culture, I’m willing to give them a chance to prove me wrong. Maybe Ms. Greedy-pants is working alone.

I’ve contacted the main company and requested the return of the rest of my refundable deposit. I pointed out that according to state law, they are required to return the refundable deposit to us unless we damaged the apartment. Even their paperwork states that no damage was done.

We’ll  see exactly how deep the greed goes.

And if I need to start really complaining.

I learned the lesson of the squeaky wheel a long time ago. It is one of my super powers that I keep hidden until the need is great.

So give me the money I’m owed, or the cape comes out of that little purple box in the attic.