Heading for the Finish Line

Good morning everyone, I went to bed last night after nearly falling asleep at my desk. I woke today refreshed, and ready to do this. Do what? Do the book. This is my antelope for the day. I shall stalk it, run it down, kill it, and drag it home – mine! When you write a book it is more yours than almost any other creative effort except painting and sculptor, because in the end you do it all yourself. You have editors, and a publisher, but they come on after the lion’s share is done. It is a peculiarly lonely work, writing, and yet at this point in the book I feel like I’m moving in a circle of people surrounded by my imaginary friends. I was so eager to write this morning that I borrowed Jon’s iPad and BlueTooth keyboard and wrote in bed before my feet had ever touched the ground. I have the final list of events that still need to happen before the end of Affliction. There are one, or two, major events that may not happen as I’d planned, I’ve done this too long not to know that scenes in a book are like battle plans they never survive the battlefield unchanged. I’ll start by adding three sentences to the scene I finished last night, and then to questioning witnesses, and searching for the big bad vampire’s lair, and then zombies, zombies, zombies! We’re actually tired of zombies, Anita and I, at this point in the book. I started out by jokingly saying that this book would be my zombie apocalypse book, I should know better than to make wise cracks about the undead. It’s like that moment in a horror movie when someone says, “I’ll be right back, I’ll be fine,” and you know that they are dead meat.
We have a record number of zombies in Affliction, and one of the most interesting and game changing vampire villains. I’m excited to see what happens next, even though I think I know. Sometimes I get surprised, and sometimes it’s just fun to take the trip even when you know the destination.

It’s now after nine o’clock here. I’ve sent over 600 pages to my editor, while I am now over 700 pages and still going strong. My editor and I have worked together for over ten years, so I trust her to work from one end, while I continue to write. She knows that I seldom send anything to New York that isn’t pretty well set, so she can edit without worrying I will do major changes and negate her hard work. As I said, above writing is very solitary, but after enough time you do have your team members like my editor, and my husband, Jon, who helps keep me sane and fed while I throw everything thing into the book. I’ve just finished a late dinner with Jon, to go with the late lunch I had with him and our daughter, Trinity. She had a snow day today. She’s now off with her father for the weekend, and it’s just as well because I’m at my desk for the duration until I type, The End, or I fall asleep at my desk. Trinity has seen me through a lot of books, so she knows the drill. If I nod off at the desk like I did last night I’ll sleep for a bit and hit it again. I’m really hoping that I finish, before I have to sleep, but I just passed 700 pages and am still going strong, so maybe there will be a nap in there somewhere.

The Creative Toll

I keep saying, I’m not usually this emotional at the end of a book. Jon, my husband, assures me I am. He also assures me I’m beautiful, intelligent, & sexy, that I have it all, but yes, I do get exhausted & cranky at the end of every book. Strangely, I forget how much it takes out of me each time. For many of us it is a grueling, amazing, painful thing to have a literary creation. For other writers it seems to be unemotional & much less visceral. I envy those cooler heads at this point in the creative process, but if I were one of them I’d be a different person & a very different writer. Could I have created Anita Blake, Merry Gentry, & all the other characters if I’d been less invested in my work? Would all my readers feel as close to my imaginary friends, if I didn’t bleed a little over every book? Somehow I think if the cost were less for me, it would mean less to all of you.

Spiders, knees (human, not spider), dogs, book, and new ideas

This week so far:

Found brown recluse spiders in kitchen and one in the hallway bathroom. Exterminator has laid extra traps, but I am unfortunately allergic to most pesticides. It’s not an infestation of the scary buggers like we had about seven years ago when we found them by me being bitten by one. (That was painful and just not something I ever want to repeat.) Then Jon and I had to go away for a week so they could fumigate the house and not poison me. We did research for Blood Noir in Asheville, North Carolina, and even sick from the spider bite we both still loved the town. Need to revisit someday.

Jon’s knee that he had surgery on about five years ago is acting up. I’ve taken him to two doctor’s this week. Just learned early today that next week he’ll be talking to a surgeon. 🙁

Our Japanese chins, Keiko and Mordor, both have kennel cough, even though they were both vaccinated against it. Apparently, some dogs will get a mild case of it even with vaccinations, or sometimes because of it, but still better than the life threatening full blown illness. Our pug, Sasquatch, who is 11 years old, is fine. Pugs are the tanks of the toy dog world on most things. 🙂 Chins are quite a bit more fragile in a lot of ways. They tend to get sick more often, are more delicate for injuries, and how do you keep their food out of all that lovely, long hair? I swear Keiko rolls in her soft food like some dogs roll in noisome things in the yard. She ends up wearing her food, and since she has medicine in it, the texture on her curls is interesting. We love our chins, but pugs totally spoiled us with their comparable ruggedness and wash and wear ease of grooming. Still planning to have more chins someday, but first we need another pug. We all miss the dual snoring.

In the midst of all the doctor and vet visits, I have actually been trying to write more on the next Anita Blake novel. I announced the title at DragonCon this year, but never put it up on the blog, so here it goes. The next Anita novel is entitled,”Affliction.” Micah is called back home by his estranged family, because his father, a county sheriff, has been attacked and is terribly injured. Anita and Nathaniel are going with him for moral support and to meet his family under very trying circumstances. It’s an interesting book to be writing. I can’t wait for you guys to finally read it!

I had one day this week that I wrote six pages on, Affliction, and four pages on something brand new that demanded to be written. It came out of nowhere and made me go, really? It’s brand new, but I guess it contains at least two different ideas that I’ve made notes on before. I just never thought about combining them, and there were several new ideas added to the old ones, and it just worked. But first to finish the book. I don’t even know if the four surprise pages are part of a book, or a short story? It’s cooking, but whether it’s stew, soup, or something else, I won’t know for awhile. It’s kind of nice creatively to not know for a change.

Elsewhere

Chapter finished! Yay!!!

Have also managed to make my tea too weak, then too strong, then added hot water at suggestion from online fan, but now it’s too weak again. There must be some magical balance between tea, and added hot water I don’t understand. *hmm* In all the tea making I managed to spill tea all over counter, shut my skirt in the towel drawer, and generally make an absentminded mess, but I don’t mind. These are all signs that my concentration is elsewhere, namely on the book. I wiped up the spilled tea, opened the drawer and freed myself, and have put on more hot water for better made tea – see its all fixable. What isn’t fixable, or replaceable is this level of emersion in my writing.

There is a reason that the absentminded artist/scientist is a stereotype, because when that level of creation is reached, the inside of your head is so real, that your connection to the outside world isn’t perfect. It’s why we’re clumsy sometimes, and careless, and double book our appointments without help, because the laser pointer of our minds is being used elsewhere.

I’m back to elsewhere. *waves bye*

Happy Imbolc!

It’s Imbolc, the first holiday of the year for those of us who are Wiccan. Today we celebrate the Goddess Brid, Saint Bridget. It was traditionally the beginning of lambing season, and the first growth after the long, cold winter. In some mild parts of Ireland, and the rest of the British Isles early wild greens and other wild eatables were in the fields if you knew where to look. It was a sign of spring, or almost, in that part of the world. Though, often you deliver lambs with snow and ice on the ground, or actually coming down around you. Imbolc is the promise of life’s return, not exactly spring, but a measure of hope that spring, and summer, will come, and winter does not last forever. As part of my Imbolc celebration today I’ve tried my hand at writing a prayer to Brid. I’m sharing it below. If it inspires anyone, great, but if it does nothing but let you share in some of my beliefs, than that’s great, too. Happy Imbolc everyone! Blessed be.

Dear Goddess Brid, Saint Bridget, be with me now as I put my foot on my path and seek to create reality out of thin air. Guide my hand as I craft this work of imagination made solid, and real enough to share with others. Help me find the inspiration of your forge burning in the night and in the day for your light never goes out, the gentle fierceness of your hand as it heals, and rocks the cradle of all of our endeavors, for fertility is not just about flesh and blood, but about taking that spark of heat, the idea, forging it into something solid, because ideas can be as real as a sword, or a ring. Let me be wise in my creation, let me be fierce in it’s defense, let me be true to my message and my vision.

So mote it be.

First Bird of the Year

Birders have a tradition that the first bird they see on New Year’s day will be their bird for the year. It’s a sort of theme for the year. Some serious birders will travel to exotic locales to try and make sure their first bird of the year is something spectacular, or at least something that they’ll be proud to knock off their life list (the list of birds they’ve seen). It’s part bragging rights for the hardcore listers, birders that seem to live for marking checks off their life list of birds. I’ve been a birdwatcher since college, but I’m not a serious lister. I’m not actually a serious birder, truth be told, but the tradition of first bird of the year is something I’ve kept, because I’ve added it to our path of faith.
We’re Wiccan, a nature based religion so it seemed a natural to use the idea of the first bird, or animal, of the year you see being a theme for the year. When I say, animal, I don’t mean your dog, cat, etc . . . unless it’s the only animal you see for hours. If you manage to not see any birds at all when there should be birds everywhere, then maybe the animal in question is your theme for the year. Two years running I saw nothing but squirrels for hours. One of the meanings of squirrel is to balance work and play, and for me I’d been doing too much work and not enough play. I’ve since fixed that imbalance with a vow last year to play as hard as I work. I’m doing it again this year, with a plan to play even more! I ended up finishing the newest Anita book earlier than I have in years, and I ended more energized and in better spirits than ever before, rather than exhausted.
So, what was my first bird of the year? It was a yellow-bellied sapsucker. Yes, it’s a real bird, not just a punchline for cartoons, or movies. I’ve only seen one of these birds ever, and it was in our backyard in the summer. It’s not a common bird here in Missouri, or at least not that I’ve seen. I’m always willing to believe that someone else’s bird viewing may vary from mine. It was a female, because of the lack of red on it’s head and neck, but even female yellow-bellied sapsuckers have some red on them, this bird had none at all. I looked up pictures of the bird and found that the juveniles can look like the females, but without red, so I thought, well than that’s it, but it wasn’t. The longer I looked at the bird, the more it’s colors looked crisp, and not dull, like the juveniles. I did some research and found that some females can have no color on their heads, and that the color is due, in part, to the bird’s diet. Western Tanager males get their amazingly bright colors from their diet, too, as other birds, as well. Cedar Waxwings’ diet can change whether they have yellow, or red, tipped feathers. Sometimes if we don’t eat enough of what’s good for us, we lose some of the color in our lives.
The above explanation is because not only did I see a yellow-bellied sapsucker, but it had to be the same female, because she had the same markings, or lack thereof. I get on the Cornell site for birds, which is always my first stop on the internet, once I’ve used my bird guides to identify the bird. Peterson’s guide is still my favorite, but I also have the Audubon guide, as well. The Cornell site has interesting facts about the birds, and I find them helpful for possible insights into what the bird might mean. Though, I go to the Ted Andrews’ books Animal-Speak, and Animal-Wise first, but if it’s a bird that’s not in the books, or I just want more possible insights from the natural behavior of the bird.
So, what does it mean that yellow-bellied sapsucker was my first bird of the year? Ted Andrews talks about it meaning that you need to pay attention to the sweetness in your life, the hidden sweetness, since sapsuckers have to drill holes in trees to get to the sap. Though unsightly the holes aren’t supposed to be harmful to the tree. Deep holes, the bird uses it’s long tongue to reach the sweetness, but they also make rectangular holes near the surface of the tree where they just remove the first layers of bark so that sap fills the hole and they lap it up, and they also eat the cambium layer of the bark, and will come back and check the holes to eat insects that come to eat the sap and are trapped in it, sort of insects in amber, when they’re still fresh and yummy. They also drill holes in very orderly patterns. Other woodpeckers will drill here and there and are attracted to dead, or insect riddled trees. Woodpeckers don’t cause insects to attack trees, they actually will eat them out of the injured bark, and help keep the tree healthy for longer, but sapsuckers feed on living trees. Dead wood has no sap, so they need living, growing trees for their food.
What I’ve taken from the above is that I need to work for the sweetness in my life. Sometimes it’s just below the surface, and sometimes it’s deeper and harder to find, but it’s worth the work, and I need it to survive. I need the sweetness and joy in my life to thrive and be happy. I know that seems self-evident, but in years past I have lost sight of that. All work and no play meets some deadlines, but eventually it uses up the writer until the very well of creativity that you counted on dries up from lack of being refilled. You can’t just take water out of the creative well, you have to either put some in, or allow the well time to fill up on its own either through rain, or water seeping up from below. Like the sapsucker there are different ways for the creative imagination to fill up; either dig deep and get the sweetness near the center, or shallow and eat the living “bark”, sweet sap, and more protein (substantive) food will be attracted to the sweetness you’ve made in the tree. I’m taking that the more I work to bring creativity and the fun things into my life, near the surface of my life so its visible and not as hidden deep in the tree, the more food I will I have, and the better I will feel, do, be. Also, that there should be more than one way for me to get sweetness into my life and my work. I need to be flexible enough to do what works, deep round holes, or shallow rectangular ones, but I still have a pattern, a rhythm, an orderliness that works for writing, and for having fun in my life. Flexible orderliness is what I’m calling it. Years ago I would be too wedded to a schedule, and anything that disrupted it threw me horribly out of my writing schedule, but I’ve learned to be more flexible, in this last year, especially, I’ve learned to go with the flow of whatever wonderful, exciting, craziness is happening in my life. This year is going to be more of the same, I think, and that’s a good thing. Also, it is significant that sapsuckers feed on living, growing trees, unlike other woodpeckers. My sweetness and creativity come from things that grow, change, and are not static. I need to embrace that and not be afraid of the growth that will come in this next twelve months. Change used to really throw me, but I’m getting better at it, and this was a message that more is coming, but it’s all good.
Now, here’s the trick to all this animal message, or totem, guide stuff. You could have seen a yellow-bellied sapsucker and taken a completely different message from it. It’s all about what feels right for you, what your inner sense of rightness tells you. Some scholars over the centuries have called it our conscience, or even the voice of God telling us what is right, what is wrong. You have to be still enough, quiet enough in your head to listen, to truly listen. If you are too busy moving around, bustling, talking, lost in activity, the message can get garbled or lost all together. As a Wiccan I believe that the power and beauty of God and Goddess is all around us, that nature is that physical manifestation of Deity. We walk through the power of creation every day. We are surrounded by miracles, but most of us hurry past and never see them. It’s the old idea that there are angels walking amongst us, but you have to be open to the possibility that they exist and are present to have any chance of seeing them. The same goes for any message from Deity, you have to listen, you have to be aware that Deity really does talk to us, not in a flare of trumpets, or a angel in white robes and huge wings, that is possible, but God isn’t so flashy most of the time, I think. I didn’t need something that spectacular, just a little black and white bird, to be reminded that I need to work for sweetness in my life in the coming year, to be flexible in my orderliness and schedule, and that some creativity would come from deep inside, but some of it would be closer to the surface, and that it would have different shapes and sizes, but it was all about keeping it organized, though to others it may look like I’m just hitting my head against a tree.
I hope everyone had fun seeing their first bird, or animal, of the year, and that whatever comes our way we see the lessons we need to learn, do the work we need to do, and walk our path this year in the most positive and productive way possible.