Sunday Down on the Farm with Friends

It's been a busy Sunday. My editor and agent came to visit me and we must be kindred spirits because we talked non-stop all day long. I've been looking forward to their visit for several weeks. I even cleaned up my desk! Now that was really something. I should do it more often because I really don't like working at a messy desk, but paper just seems to accumulate. Any of you guys have that problem? I think it must breed and reproduce and grow. Quickly. Especially for a writer like me who is always hanging on to this or that quote or note or letter or whatever. I like having stuff written down on paper and not just in my head. That's because I'm not as young as I used to be. Sometimes when I try to record stuff just in my head, I must use invisible ink because it often as not disappears and I don't get what needs to be remembered remembered. At least not when it should be remembered.

So the desk is moderately straightened. A lot of stuff went into File 13. That's the round file or trash can for you people who have never worked in an office setting. I need to file a lot of other stuff there, but I'm always worried that I'll end up wanting to chase down the garbage truck to retrieve that very important note I pitched that I should have hung on to.

Anyway, I'm sure my guests were suitably impressed with my almost neat working space. I do have a great office with windows looking out over the outside world. I love windows and have always wanted a window by my desk although I worked for years in my kitchen without a window close by. Now I am blessed with four windows. But my agent made a wise comment after she admired my view of the birdfeeders in the tree and the hayfield where deer sometimes come sneaking along to steal my apples and eat my rosebushes. She said that I probably don't see any of it once I get into my story. And she's right. Once a writer gets into her scene, then her setting, her stage if you will, suddenly replaces everything else. I remember once writing a scene where my character was in a terrible rainstorm and when I came up for air it was odd seeing the sunshine. I felt like my hair should be wet from all the rain.

We all went to hear Darrell and the guys (the Patriot Quartet) sing tonight and they enjoyed hearing Darrell hit those low-down notes. They will have his head so swelled he won't be able to get through the door. He does do a great job singing and the quartet sounded fabulous tonight. I hadn't planned to have my new book on the product table tonight because I'm doing my book event at the Anderson Public Library next Saturday. I was planning to wait until then to have my book available. But they announced it and people wanted it. So I had some in the car and no writer wants to disappoint an eager reader. It was great seeing so many wonderful friends and laughing and talking with them. Not to mention signing a few books. Some of them even said they might still come to my library event next Saturday. It's at one p.m. if you are in the area and would like to come hear me talking about writing The Believer. There will be door prizes and Q & A time and maybe we'll do some sort of fun writing game. We came up with a character at my last event at the library. That's always a fun exercise with a group. But this time we may talk about how we can find a story in history - ours or our nation's.

I'm taking my guests to Shaker Village tomorrow. I'm hoping we won't have to dodge showers there. But even if we do, I know we'll find a spot under the roof and keep having a good time. I hope all of you can look forward to some good times next week and that you know joy in your hearts.

Writing in the Midst of Chaos

How many of you have done remodeling in your houses while you're trying to live there? And work there? Believe me it's not the easiest thing to do. We're building on a room to accomodate our growing family. We tell people we're building a big room for one day a year when we celebrate Christmas with the kids. With nine grandkids and a grand dog and the mommies and daddies, things were beginning to get over full in our little house. You see we moved into this house when our kids were young. It was a starter house, but we built it on our farm and we've never wanted to move anywhere else. I think I've told you before that my roots go all the way to China and I'm attached to the place. The girl in my current book has something of the same problem. She's attached to her place, too, but things are making it hard for her. Me, I'm doing fine here and not anticipating any reasons to need to loosen my roots.

So the house was small but big enough for us when we moved in over thirty years ago. It had conveniences I'd never had and so we were very happy with the house. Then about twenty years ago, we added a second bathroom (a definite improvement) and an office for me. Before that I wrote at a desk in the kitchen. But having my own office with doors that closed was a fantastic blessing. Still is. My room has four big windows where I can look out on the fields and yard. But you know, when I get into my story, I don't see the trees and grass outside. I'm looking inward and it's only when I get stalled that I see the outdoors that's actually in front of my eyes.

So I love my office and it's a great place to work. But it has been wild around here this week with all the home improvements going on. Monday we had a convention of pickup trucks. I think there must have been ten in the driveway as plumbers, carpenters, electricians, heat & air workers all showed up to work. The contractor was knocking brick off the wall to get ready to cut holes in the side of the house. Trust me, that's not quiet work. Right outside my office window in the place of my usually peaceful view of trees and birds at feeders three men were putting in a new heat pump. I closed the blinds. That helped a little. Then they were moving around in the crawl space under my feet and talking about cutting new vent holes in my floor. Not exactly the most ideal atmosphere for writing on my book. But the deadline looms so I can't stop. I considered taking my laptop and going out to try writing in the car. I talked to a writer who says that's how she likes to write. But I think she was on the way places when she was doing that. With a driver, of course.

But I kept on keeping on and actually got some words out of my head and onto the page. I read a "how I do it" article once by a sci-fi writer. I can't remember which writer for sure, but he's written many, many books. Anyway, he said he could write with a crying child on his lap and that he had done that. I can't write with a crying child on my lap. I know that. I wouldn't even try. I'd be trying to get the baby to stop crying. But I have found out this week that I can write with some heat and air guys yelling back and forth at one another while they crawl around under my floor while saws are cutting through concrete and bricks are falling off the walls and hammers are hammering. That's something. And I'm going to do it again tomorrow. At least I'm going to give it my best shot.

If any of you have done remodeling, hope all the hammering is done now and you're enjoying your new and improved spaces. I'm sure I'm going to enjoy mine. Someday.