The "sisters trip, 1, 3, 4" to Seaside, OR went famously.  The weather was absolutely fabulous: sunshine and blue skies the entire trip.  We visited Tilamook, Cannon Beach, Astoria, and a variety of places inbetween.  Saw a few lighthouses and did a BUNCH of walking, not just on the beaches, either.  We ate at Moe's one day (I had to try the clam chowder); we got done just before low tide.  We walked the 1/2 mile or so to Haystack Rock, took a ton of pictures, jumped over tide pools, and watched the sun start to set.  Beautiful. 

And we SHOPPED.  We all picked up "take home gifts", and a bunch of Christmas presents.  There is a store in Seaside that sells leather coats and other accessories for $20 or less.  I picked up a leather bomber-type jacket for The Man as a take home gift/X-mas present.  $20.  How could I pass that up?!?  (The Man loves it.)  We also found something there for Dad, the man who has everything.  Well, he doesn't have THIS.  Sisters 1, 3, 4 went in on the present together.  Once home, I offered Sister #2 a chance to get in on the action.  She accepted.  WOOT.

The trip home was equally fabulous.  We decided to bypass Portland on the way home, by way of Mt. St. Helen.  We left Seaside before 8am, and didn't get to the Volcanic Monument until noonish.  The escapade up to the viewpoints closer to the mountain took another couple of hours.  We saw birds, hawks, and right in the blast zone, 3-4 cow-elk.  Spirit Lake still has dead trees and pumice floating in it.  After 30 years, the blast zone and surrounding affected areas still look bleak, but you can see where the vegetation is trying to recover.  There are huge spots where man helped out by planting seedling conifers; I think someone said they've planted over a million.  There are groupings of snags (still standing dead trees) to encourage wildlife to return.  The flow site still looks awful.  Probably for the best.  The old girl is still kinda pissy, and she has 2 cones now, both still growing.  I hope the pictures I took do this part of the trip justice.  

We stopped in Yakima at 4pm for some dinner, and decided to push on to Boise.  We crossed the Columbia River at Umatilla.  The sun was just setting, so I took pictures through the tinted windows.  In fact, I took a bunch of pictures of the sunset on the way home.  Lots of reds.  It was gorgeous.  We pulled into Boise just before midnight.  I was in bed within 15-20 minutes.

Best of all, I didn't gain any weight while on vacation.  Didn't lose, but didn't gain.  Don't know how I managed that one, but perhaps all the walking helped.

Next week, The Man goes in for surgery to correct a previous surgical screw up.  Needless to say, he's been a bit of a twitch, and my vacation came at a great time.  He'll be home for at least 8 weeks, we think, but he might have the opportunity to work from home a bit while he recovers.  I certainly hope so.

I am still on the job hunt.  I'm not going to look too hard over the next few weeks while The Man gets over the worst of the recovery period, but I DO need to get on the stick if for no other reason than to pay hospital bills.  Christmas is going to be limited this year.

I am into chapter 21 of the book.  I did very little writing before the trip, did a bit of editing on the trip, and am finally going to get back to the forward progress today.  I have missed my personal deadline of Sept 30th, but I hope to be done by the 25th, the next Moxie meeting.

Cheers to all-

 

 

I went to work.  The first week was hectic, but productive and fun.  I have a lot of old co-workers, the majority of whom I like, at the new job.  Second week showed more progress on getting workflow and office procedures organized.  By the time Friday came along, I had the rough process/workflow up and running, and we were testing it to make sure it would work.  Seemed to be.  However, Friday afternoon I was informed that myself and several others in another department were being laid off due to a budget problem.  Ed, my boss, reassured me that it had nothing to do with my job performance, or anything personal, just a budget having to be met.  He also told me he is going to work miracles to get me back on the payroll as soon as possible, give it a month or so.

Disappointment was inevitable.  Frustration, a bit of anger, and hurt feelings also came with the news.  How can you run a brand new shop without the backend, the office, running smooth or at all?  You have to spend money to make money in a start-up.  All the new division has to do is land one big account, and everyone will be so buried they will be in extreme jeopardy of failing.  I still don't get it.  Unfortunately, the powers running the company are reactionaries, not pro-active.  My boss Ed isn't included in that mess.  The decision to lay me off was made without his input.  And he's supposed to be the VP of the division?  Brilliant.

On happier notes, my diet and exercise plans seem to be working.  So far, the scale says I've lost 7lbs.  Clothes are fitting a little better, and I have more energy and motivation to do things.  I have a doctor's appt today, so we'll see what he says about it.

One advantage to not working at the moment is that I have the opportunity to continue the fixes to my schedule.  I'm going to try to get up at the same time as I would for work, and go to bed at the same time, too.  I've slipped on that for the last few days, but I need to NOT go back to my old habits of staying up until all hours, and getting up later in the morning.  I need to get up early, and go to bed at a reasonable time, that way, when I start back to work, the adjustment won't be as severe as before. 

If I can keep on the work schedule, I have the perfect opportunity to plow away and finish the first draft of Null and Void.  2nd draft will be easier to do in pieces since I'll already have the hard part--the initial writing--all done.  2nd draft is all editing, with a little bit of new writing as a possibility in the event I missed something.  I am looking forward to getting the first draft completed.  I need to get it written before editing can commence.

Just finished reading: Inda; The Fox; King's Shield, by Sherwood Smith.  EXCELLENT series.  Engaging, absorbing, and the characters leap off the page.  3rd person omniscient, but extremely well done.  All three books blend bits of humor, much action, and heartbreak.  Yes, all three books brought tears to my eyes at multiple points.  I can't wait for Treason's Shore to appear on the shelves. 

It's embarrassingly true.  I do like villains. The more sinister, awful, and evil, the more I clap my hands like an excited child.  Why?  Let me explain.

Having a believable hero, a sympathetic hero, a hero who makes audience cheer is necessary.  The audience should want to know more about the hero and celebrate the hero’s triumph.  Heroes have to be real, they can’t be perfect.  In other words, they must have a flaw to be overcome so the end triumph is complete.  The audience will laud the overcoming of that flaw. 

But the villain makes or breaks the hero.  Why?  Because without a villain, the hero sits around the house, unemployed, watching daytime television, and eating bon-bons.  The villain creates the situation for the hero's battle.  The villain exposes the heroic flaw.  The villain gives the hero drive, purpose, a reason for pushing him/her/it self to the limits and beyond. 

That said, what do I like most in villains?  What makes me giggle with maniacal glee?  Let's talk traits and execution, motivation and development.  I'll demonstrate.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: The queen, a woman with an obsession for being young, beautiful, and THE BEST is driven to, among other crimes, conspiracy to commit murder, performance of black magic, and assault with a deadly apple with intent to kill.  Without her drive to be the fairest in the land, that all consuming NEED, her stepdaughter, Snow White, would never have found herself in the crosshairs.  Snow White would have never found comfort among the dwarfs, and the Prince would have just been another suitor, not a hero charging in on a figurative (or not) white horse to save the day. No queen, no obsession, no story. 

In the above example, you have the following traits: physical beauty, intelligence, pride, power of position and responsibility, appearance of youth, ambition, leadership qualities, and semblance of self-confidence.  In and of themselves, these traits are harmless.  However, let's add some modifiers and a few other traits: overweening, excessive, coldhearted, conceit, jealousy, obsessive-compulsive behavior, and nebulous morality. 

NOTE: most of the traits, good or bad, are not physical.

Execution of the above traits relies heavily on the motivation and development of the villain. 

In her past, the queen was exquisitely beautiful.  That beauty gave her renown, which in turn gave her pride and ambition to marry well.  She had the intelligence to exploit her beauty, and a male's susceptibility to it.  She captured the heart of a king. Good for her. Since she is the most beautiful in the land, she can afford to be generous to those less fortunate.  She is jealous of her hard-won position.

She believes the only way to keep her position--both in the monarchy, and in everyone's regard--is by retaining her youthful beauty.  As she ages, she relies more heavily on magic (or a really good cold cream) to maintain her looks.  Time and the elements are not her friends.  As she ages further, she becomes more desperate. 

Enter Snow White, who has a mother's-dying-wish good looks, and a gentle demeanor to match.  The queen is indulgent at first, but as Snow White matures, so does her beauty.  Too soon, the queen has a challenger who has nothing but time and good breeding on her side.  Cold creams can't take up the slack. 

The queen doesn't let little things like ethics or morality stand in her way--it's only her stepdaughter after all, not a blood relative or her own daughter--and so resorts to more conventional means of taking out her competition: she orders a hit on her rival.   

When the assassin is beguiled by Snow White, the queen takes matters into her own hands and employs magic.  She's smart: she figures out ways to use Snow White’s naiveté against her, as well as defeat Snow White's other protections, the dwarfs.  The queen goes the extra mile to make sure she does it right.  Snow White's protectors are forced to take a more active role, even as each thwarted attempt drives the queen to more heinous acts of aggression.

NOTE: This descent down the path of evil is driven by the queen's obsession.  She doesn't see it.  She only sees the prize of being the fairest in the land.  As her obsession grows, her other more admirable traits are twisted or eclipsed.

Let’s get back to those traits. The queen exhibits most of the traits I like in my villains: physical beauty that hides the viper underneath. Intelligence, because a stupid villain is not appealing. Darkness of soul. Willpower. Cunning. Presence. Poise. Follow-through. Feelings of superiority. Ambition and drive to get to—or stay on— the top with little to no regard for who is hurt in the process. Depraved indifference for all but their own aims and existence. A willful and premeditated suspension of moral and ethical accountability, and the ability to justify its disregard which, in a sense, is the villain’s own sort of morality.   Integrity. 

Silence of the Lambs: the villain of the book is supposed to be the serial killer on the loose. The serial killer is interesting, but Hannibal Lector snares our attention from the moment we see him. Why? 

However aberrant it is, Lector follows his own morality, his own rules, his own code of conduct with no apologies and no excuses. Soft-spoken, Lector possesses genius-level intelligence, piercing perception, cunning, education, evident gentility (aka, poise), humor, and a ton of backstory, both spoken and non. He is also a cannibal filled with barely suppressed rage. Lector is horrifyingly, terrifyingly fascinating, and so sinister he takes residence in our nightmares. Yet, when Lector escapes, Starling trusts him not to come after her as his next meal because she believes Lector likes and respects her; Lector would consider eating her to be… well…rude. Why? Because he is true to himself, always. This is integrity.   

I am not a fan of slasher films because most of the villains are mindless evil, have no real depth, and no understandable motivation for what they do other than the one or two lines we may or may not get during the course of the movie. The only thing that makes them scary is that they don’t stop until killed, and in the case of some, not even death has a hold—witness Jason and Freddy and other multiple-sequel slasher films. The reason we jump or have nightmares about them is because those villains are usually physically intimidating combined with the Hollywood oogada-boogada factor with a side of tension-music to assist.

Slasher villains play on primal fears—powerful, but one dimensional. They might be cunning, but they aren’t truly intelligent because they really don’t have a personality other than their hunger for blood. Freddy Krueger is an exception…he has a twisted sense of humor, intelligence, and a back story, thus, Freddy has complexity, and seems more real because of those traits. In the slasher film world, however, he is an oddity.  

More real because of those traits. Think on that a moment. Think on the traits I listed above. Which do you find admirable? Which do you find scary or hateful? What would happen if you took the good traits to extremes, or twisted them and eclipsed them with those you most dislike? What is the back story of that villain? What caused them to turn into monsters? What makes them get up in the morning? What drives them over the bounds of socially acceptable? What would complete their fall from grace? What would redeem them? 

Would they take the redemption were it offered?

You can’t have a hero without a villain; they go hand in hand. The stronger and more vibrant the villain, the more the audience will desire the hero’s success. In short, the villain has to be just as multi-dimensional as your hero. Without that depth, the villain will stand lack-luster, and your audience won’t understand why the hero has to overcome anything. The villain wants to blow up the world and become a god-like super-being? So what? The God of Nothing still has nothing. Stupid villain. Why did I pick up this book? 

That said, think carefully about your characterization of your villain. The traits make the character. The development, motivation, and execution of those traits create a believable villain who will make or break your hero’s journey. Even if it is a decent into the depths of Hell, your villain also has a journey. Don’t neglect it.   

I had to share this one. It made me laugh. For those that don’t know, I’m a little contrary—or ornery—at times, and this just fit.  Thank you eltigreblanco.livejournal.com/ for posting it first.

"Sometimes you give the world the best you got, and you get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you got anyway. Success and happiness drive the assholes berzerk. That is simply a bonus."

From Ted Nugent’s Ted, White, and Blue

Well, since its been a month since the last post, I thought I would give an update on what is going on in my life.

I have completed the online class from Margie Lawson, Defeating Self-Defeating Behaviors.  Great class.  I learned a lot about myself, and why I sometimes self-distruct.  I now have some tools for overcoming those behaviors, most of which I have utilized at some point in the past.  I will probably have to re-read the lectures and redo the assignments eventually, but for now, I think I am doing ok.  I write most every day, which makes the day go better, and I have learned to think more positively. 

In fact, I have overcome my fears enough to enter my current WIP into the Pacific Northwest Writer's Association Literary Contest.  I edited (and edited, and edited) the first 23 pages of the manuscript (MS), and created a five page synopsis for the contest.  My poor critique partners were tasked with reading it over and over while I polished it.  I was a neurotic mess when I sent it off yesterday, but I feel much better now.  According to my critique partners, it will be a strong contender.  I'm crossing my fingers.  If I final, I will have to go to the PNWA conference July 30-Aug 2, 2009.  I will likely go anyway, even if I don't final.  I need to get out and network more with other writers, agents, and editors.  I can't write in a vacuum anymore, not if I want to be published.

 

Also, in the past month, I took a trip to California to attend the funeral of my cousin, Doug.  Doug had spent the last 35 years as a quadriplegic, and had been in decline for the last year.  He accomplished so much in his brief time here on earth: lawyer, husband, adoptive father.  He found ways to overcome his disabiltiy, and gave others hope, inspiration, and direction.  I celebrate his new freedom; may he now have wings. 

I remember many of my dreams.  I woke up this morning with this one:
 

               I’d just been appointed Chief Commissioner of something, and the day was administration-change day.  Chaos reigned.  I was to live in the same place that I was to work.  My office/living quarters were a huge studio apartment of probably 2000sq ft.  But it was cluttered, messy, disorganized.  The ancient built-in stove and kitchenette counters came up to chest height, both unusable.  For a room with 20ft ceilings, hardly any of the vertical space was used.  The person who used to live/work in this space hadn’t gotten anything worthwhile done.  I would bring pride, organization, and an air of opportunity back to the office.  I would do things, but I needed a clear place to work and live for that to be possible.  I couldn’t work or live in a place this trashed.
 

                Workmen and movers, maintenance men and the “change-over” director were everywhere at once.  As I dodged them and planned overhauls of the space, I came across a series of floor-to-ceiling metal shelves in milk crate increments housing LP albums of all sorts.  Thousands of albums.  Much of the vinyl was separated from its sleeve and cover, and the shelves were just as disorganized as the room.  Despite the mess, I got excited because the music was to stay where it was: it belonged to the office as if it was part of a private state-held collection.  Some of the albums were rare treasures, but there was no ladder to get to the albums on the upper shelves.
 

                I ignored the turmoil happening around me and gazed wonderingly at the trove before me.  It should be catalogued, organized, and displayed better.  The workman could build me fine wood shelves when they built my floor-to-ceiling bookshelves (complete with sliding ladders), and renovated the rest of the apartment/office.  Then I could find anything and everything I wanted, and explore (and enjoy) the treasures.
 

Wait.  Who would do the organizing and cataloguing?  My new job would keep me too busy to take on such a project, and the clutter of the music collection would drive me nuts if allowed to remain as-is.  Sad, I considered donating the whole collection to the local library, but knew it would be auctioned off piece by piece, or sold at a surplus sale.  I didn’t want to donate it, but I couldn’t see another option because other commitments would take precedence, and this task would take too much time and effort to complete in a timely manner.  It had to go, much to my regret. 
 

I must have voiced my regret because someone piped up that the collection had already been catalogued, at some point; there was a complete list on the bottom shelf on my right.  Joy and hope flooded through me.  After the new shelves were built, I could get an intern or two to organize the albums on the new shelves, check them against the list, and label the shelves.
 

The dream unraveled soon after this point, and I woke up.  As I lay there in the darkness, I wondered what it could mean.  I searched for insight, and found it.
 

My mind and space has been cluttered with so much stuff in the past, that my writing (work) has suffered greatly, and my ability to focus on the important things hasn’t fared much better.  By clearing away the clutter, I can find gems.  By organizing my space, I can work and accomplish great things because I won’t be overwhelmed by trivial ‘kipple.’  By having my treasures (ideas) adequately organized and tastefully displayed, I can access the treasure when I need it or want it without fear of it being MIA.

All of the author interviews Margie Lawson has in her lectures so far say they force themselves to write every day because they can’t wait for their muse to strike. Makes sense. Murphy’s Law #2,042 dictates that the muse will never strike when convenient, or when you want her to. It’s the corollary to the whole “watched pot” scenario, I believe.   

I must have several muses because I have many good ideas pop into my head while driving, in the middle of making stirfry, while visiting with family and friends, in the shower with soapy hair and before my legs are shaved, or the all time favorite, at 3-4am when I’m supposed to be in deep sleep. I collectively call my muses “the girls in the basement.”  I used to keep notebooks and mini-cassette recorders beside the bed and in the car. Murphy’s Law #516 came into play at that point: should you be ready, he/she/they will never show.

My question to you all is, when stuck at a critical point, why oh why can’t the muse(s) pop up with an idea when you desperately need it? Am I too much of a romantic to WANT the muse to ride in to save the day like some ethereal knight in shining armor and save me from the dragon? A figurative Deus Machina (sp), with/without the finger of God and hordes of avenging angels? A miracle? Or just a sudden insight like a light bulb turning on above your head? Or better yet, the trap door from Acme that suddenly appears in the wall behind you after you’ve painted yourself into a corner?

I’d beg for better timing if I thought it would do any good, but I will take the girls tossing ideas up the stairs at all hours and all situations, to them silent always.