Things You Forget. I’m working on this young adult novel right now. It’s a story that won’t leave me alone. It’s the story that made me ugly cry during a workshop at VCFA. I put it away after workshop, then worked on it again while my husband was going through cancer treatment. I typed in the bedroom closet of our condo, which was located close to the hospital. We came back to the condo after each treatment, and when he slept, I typed. Furiously. Back at home after a successful treatment and good report, I put it away again. That was over two years ago. But this story won’t go away. So I have made a decision. I will write it and be done. And I wanted to make it official, so I’m saying it here.
Memory is a funny thing. It can both destroy and restore. And mining our memories, the good ones and the ones that haunt us, can often bring healing.
“Write something that will change your life.”
Still the Middle.
The End.And there you have it…a book!
My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way.
Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, and the Baroque is over. Ernest Hemingway
Writing tight, concise prose is difficult, no matter what age group we write for or what genre. I stumbled across an article concerning this and tried the app mentioned. The creators of the app wanted to help writers realize when their writing was too dense. I got some interesting results when I pasted a few paragraphs of my own writing into the app. As for this blog post? It got a grade 5 readability. One of fourteen sentences was hard to read. The post contained one adverb and two phrases in need of simpler alternatives.
Using this app might be helpful if someone wants a quick look at how their prose is coming along. Or if you just need to do a little procrastinating. Keep in mind, though, it’s just an exercise.
Interestingly, Hemingway’s own writing didn’t fair so well.
Wow. It’s been a while since I posted on my blog. Longer than I realized. But I’ve been busy. Life stuff. Family stuff. Finding my way through it all. Finding me, in a way. And I’ve been writing, too. Skimmering around a bit from one project to the next. But writing. Sketching. Picking at my old guitar. So I’ve settled on one project in particular. Well, two really. Working on projects simultaneously is nice. When one project hangs up or begins to smell, and not in a good way, one can always turn to the other. But really, the process of writing for me has gone from a frenetic thing, a high energy thing, an I HAVE TO DO THIS AND I HAVE TO DO IT SO WELL thing, to hello, old friend. Let me sit a while with you. Let me be real. Let me listen.
It’s a process, right? Life’s a process. And time is a slippery beast.
Picture from fccshelbyville.org