WELCOME TO THE BIRD FEEDER NEIGHBORHOOD

The calendar said it was Spring but this year I’m happy to say Winter has a firm grip and isn’t letting go. We’ve had snow flurries three times this month here, and poor New England is buried after four Nor’easters. I can’t say I’m happy for those up north but I’m delighted to be lingering under a blanket with hot tea, watching cold rain fall while I either read or write. Very satisfying.

My writer’s mind is always working but seems to work overtime during the fall and winter months. I suppose that’s why I enjoy doing National Novel Writing Month in November because it suits the weather and my “spring” fever that only comes in Autumn. When Winter arrives, I write and read like a mad woman, though much of what I write doesn’t ever see the light of day. Still, satisfying.

One thing I can tell you about writing every day is this opens your mind to new ideas and new ideas brings you more prolific moments. You know I like to take real life and turn everything into an opportunity for scene work, character development, or world building. Real life moments are what make me a better writer. Even dark and dank, (ma)lingering Winter ones.

For example, recently we put up a new bird feeder. This has been a never-ending source of incredible excitement for the local songbirds. For my husband and me too. We watch out our kitchen window as the cardinals and their mates (or potential mates) flitter and fuss over fallen seeds, the bluebirds, wrens, and sparrows becoming regular patrons. Doves rarely came to my yard before and now two pair seem to have moved in. And a gorgeous red-headed woodpecker that I saw once or twice a year is now a daily friend.

The squirrels are like potential shoplifters. We had to grease the bird feeder pole to keep one particular squirrel from climbing and pilfering the seeds. He seemed oblivious to the local bluejay security guard so we solved the problem. Just like a greedy kid, the squirrel will have to manage like everyone else. I’m keeping an eye on him.

I liken this whole moment to opening a new apartment building. Suddenly you get all sorts of people moving in and out, strange and beautiful. Dating and mating and married for life-ers. There are the fussy, the troublemakers, the slow movers, and the ones always in a hurry but going no where.

And just like real life, you get the ugly moments too. A raccoon died in the road out front of the house. A black vulture dragged it to the end of the driveway. Then into the side ditch. Then back onto the driveway. Then UP the driveway. That’s when the friends showed up. For two days, we watched this go on and then when the raccoon ended up in the middle of our drive, hubby loaded it onto a shovel and tossed it into the neighboring pasture (that’s called passing the buck). Now we see the vultures from a distance. Close enough to see them manage their meals but far enough away that the gruesome factor is mitigated. Let those demons attack elsewhere, right?

Same as it would be for my neighborhood apartment building. Death in the streets is a natural occurrence. Robbing and dragging. Gangs showing up for spoils.

The rains are back. The birds are scattering. They too need time in their cozy nests. I hear a redtail hawk overhead. Squirrels run for cover. Like sirens screeching by in the road, these sirens in the sky warn of danger and accidents. Like me, like people, the birds and animals know.

A doe and two young fawns make their way over barbed wire fence (what separates me from the neighboring pasture) and come to feed on unborn tulips and fallen bird seed. The birds scatter at first, then return, realizing the diner is big enough for everyone. It is a peaceful neighborhood and diversity is possible. Deer, dove, large birds and small. Oh look! A bunny. Ah, that was a nibble on the run much like young folks who are too busy to stop and chat.

(Not my pic, but funny)

Like a true diner, the bell over the door is silent but when the diner is open, it serves many and all.

Life is happening outside my window and in my writer’s mind it is a world not dissimilar to the one I live in. Even in the darkness, when I know the “others” come – the fox, the coyote, the possum, and raccoon – the 24-hour diner continues to serve, their world turns and life is a cycle of comings and goings, birth and death. But this “local diner” is now the hub of activity and feels comfortable.

Uh-oh, there’s the black cat that lives somewhere around here. I think of him as the mafia don, always looking for a payment. Everyone has fled and the cat sits atop my firepit surveying the scene. He’s looking mighty plump these days so business must be profitable. From the tail twitch, someone’s going to pay up soon. When he’s gone, the small birds return. Life goes on.

Thrones, anyone?

That’s the way our book series work, too. We build a world, make the lives, stay with them day in and day out, get comfortable with our characters, look for them, get to know them, need them.

Even when Winter has to let go for Spring, life around the diner will be a never-ending story to savor. I’m certain that’s when I’ll finally see the falcon who gives the hawk competition. Of course, the owl who cries “whooooo” as the police on patrol, lets me know all is well in the neighborhood.

Let the life outside your window give your imagination fodder for your characters as mine does. You’ll writing will sparkle with realism because it will reflect the life’s truth in microcosm. And the fun you’ll have is endless.

We’ve put up a hummingbird feeder close to the window. It’ll be like going to ballet. I can’t wait for that show to come to town. When Spring is allowed to arrive, that heralds the butterflies and bats, and finally Summer’s fireflies. It’s like waiting for the circus.

We’re putting in a birdbath soon. My own neighborhood bathhouse.Stay tuned! And keep writing.

I remain, Yours Between the Lines,
Sherry

P.S. Look for my poetry contest!  Rules at the end of this week. 

This week I thought it would be fun to answer some questions that fellow writers sent me. I offer these writing issues with my personal opinions for possible solutions.

Let’s begin with a big one I get asked repeatedly:

I want to write but I just can’t find a way to begin. I’m blocked. I feel the words but can’t get them down on paper. Now I’m not sure I’ll ever write. ~Susan, Calif.

Hi Susan. First, I don’t believe in writer’s block (never did). I think I can help you with my trick. When I feel overwhelmed with lots of ideas, I do a brain dump. I have a variety of notebooks for just this sort of issue. First, I have a notebook for “ideas.” These are the random things I think about but aren’t sure what to do with them yet. Then I have a notebook for every book/project I’m working on. I keep those ideas together and that’s to be sure I don’t lose any story gems I think about but can’t write about just yet. Next, I have a notebook for research. You know those things you learn but it isn’t trivia and it isn’t a story (yet) but you think you might need it? I call this my Random Facts book. Very handy.  With these notebooks, I ensure that my ideas are captured and my brain is emptied of the clutter. This allows me to have a sharper focus on what I need or want to do and I’m not fighting my own ideas. 

Then you just begin. Don’t worry if it isn’t the actual beginning of a story or novel. Just start writing. Aren’t sure where the story is going to go? Don’t rub that wound, just let the writing out. Go ahead and do that crazy dialogue you’ve been fuming over. Write that creative description of that house. Take the car ride and tell us what you see. Just start. The rest will come. Hope this helps.

I have to do research for my story but I don’t know how to stop. I love it and my writing stops when I start searching. Then It’s hard to start again. ~Ted, MD

Good question, Ted. I love research too. I confess I’ve spent days lost in my search for cool stuff. When I was writing THE GYPSY THORN, I learned so much history, reading about Vienna, trade routes, churches and royalty that I felt I could write a college paper with ease. I printed off gobs of goodies and that is my secret. First, as I told Susan (above), you jot your notes down or you print the stuff off the computer (be sure to keep your bibliography and NEVER plagiarize from others). I like to be able to re-read my research later. To be sure I don’t get lost I either set a timer and stick to it or set aside a day just for that one thing. Then I don’t feel guilty or feel as though I’ve neglected my main work. When I find what I need I stop (most of the time). If I have found other goodies, I bookmark or make the notes in my notebook for the next designated research time. I recommend no more than three days a week if you have a great deal to do or an hour a day if that is more to your needs. Remember when you have your info to go back to that place and start writing about it. This would be in your first draft so don’t worry if it isn’t all “perfect.” Time to fix it later. You’ll do great. Happy hunting.

Since when do we take nouns and make them verbs? Don’t we have real words that we can use? ~Mary, GA

Hi Mary. I’m going to confess your question made me laugh. I often complain about language and how it’s used by others. In this case, I think I see what you mean. For example, author becomes “authoring,” right? And the one that bugs me is “adult” becomes “adulating.” It is curious how words become fads and then go mainstream so fast. But sometimes there just aren’t any words that accurately describe a thing. Take “groovy.”  The word was a jazz term in the 1920’s and mean the player was “in the groove” of the music which came when vinyl records were produced. When the music was “swinging” or “in the pocket” it was in the groove (as in the lay of the record). So in the 60’s, the word matched the feel of a new generation of music and once again, it described the sensation but for a new style of music. It was still the same word but with a new generation of applied feeling. So it is with authoring. I suppose you can say “I’m working on my author duties,” or “I’m making my plans for selling books” but in the spirt of being to the point and succinct, authoring will do. I’ve done the same with words. I’ve used this technique in poetry with great success, Check out my poems The Paper Cut Murder or The Hangnail Prison.  My word “dump-trucked” drew lots of laughter but my book PAPER BONES won awards. I think you should try your hand at creating new words for what you need to say. And I will agree – we say “authoring” and “adulting” waaaay too much. I’m going to make a note for myself. Thanks!

There’s too much to learn and I just want to write. ~Chrystal, TN

Oh I feel this one! I have said the same thing, Chrystal. Writers, as with any profession, are constantly learning their craft. Writing isn’t something you learn once and then go write. Formatting always changes, style changes, even how to write effective dialogue improves and sharpens. Strong writers are plugged into trade magazines, editors, blogs, conferences, groups, and books for the never-ending plethora of writing advice. There are moments, I know, when you feel as though you haven’t learned anything and get frustrated. Happens to everyone. Just keep writing. Practice what you’re learning by doing some writing exercises every day. Like every athlete works out, so you can work out your writing muscles to help make what you are learning become what you are writing. Never stop learning. Stay up-to-date. But never stop writing. You’ll get a rhythm and eventually, the exhaustive reading/learning becomes a part of you. Stay focused.

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Thanks for writing! If I didn’t answer your question here, you probably got an email from me. I like hearing from you, so keep those thoughts coming! Feel free to use the Contact Me form to reach out.

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UPDATES: ** Work progresses on the new book, LOVE AND BLOOD. I took some time off to be sure I was going in the direction I planned and I’ve been working steadily since mid-February. 

**I’m also doing work on some “vignettes” — short “moments” that take place inside stories that don’t make it into books or character insights that are simply fun and not valuable in the main stories. These partial mini-stories help to understand characters and put some events into context. I would like to have these out this year, too.

**Don’t forget to follow me on Instagram. Every Monday I showcase a new pen. I see a book coming on my pens after a year of them (they end late summer, so it will be late this year or early next year for the picture book).

**FACEBOOK LIVE! The monthly chat will Mar 24. Don’t miss out on the fun. I’m giving away some goodies.

As always, thanks for coming by.
I remain, Yours Between the Lines,
Sherry

Today is February 12. This is the week of Valentine’s Day. This is the week when everyone speaks about love. People reach for cards, chocolates, flowers, rings, poetry, romance novels, special dinners – everything geared toward Love and the romantic incarnations. Even certain “shades of colorless color” in books and movies, speak of and pretend to be about love and happily ever after. This is the week to find the sweet, saccharine, romance that speaks of the heart’s depth. This is when some part of everyone wants to be told they are liked or loved. Me, too.

I’m not talking about that kind of love.

I want to help you look beyond the sappy stuff and into the dark. Let me be clear first: I am NOT speaking about abuse and violence when I say “dark.” Sexual abuse (mental, emotional or physical) in ANY form is NOT love and I am not going to argue that it might be, could be, should be, may be, or any being of love ever. Ever. 

No, I want to speak about the other sides of love that may not be twisty, but is real and dark and exists beside the hope and light. This is love without hope, love without return, love no one knows about, love without like, loving without being “in love.” This is love with greed, love with jealousy, love with expectations, love with exceptions, love with silence. Love with options to be different.

Writing romance is popular. Harlequin novels have a new imprint and are shining again. Indie authors are drawing more readers than ever with their contemporary (and fresh) romances promising “real” endings. Stories about children show love with hope and purpose. And all of these are popular and money-makers. And they are good.

But what about the love that you feel when the glamour is gone, when the lights go out, when the feelings are hurt, when the other stops loving, when hope never existed in the first place? That is real, too. What about the love that never is expressed? And love that begs to be massaged and explained?  Like the romantic poet Pablo Neruda said:

Show me the love remaining after death. Show me love born by jealousy and going strong after defeat. Show me love for the woman who took all the money and left, but loved him/her anyway. Give me the pain that is love. Make me cry for want of darkness where love waits when I know there is none for me but I want to be where it is anyway.

Love has darkness beyond pain and death, or loss of hope. Love has weakness that becomes strength. Love has worshippers that take being forgotten and make a memory that becomes immortal. Love is diverse and complex. Love is changeable and malleable. Love is exceptional and rare. It doesn’t have to be the savior of the story. Love can be a monster that we want. Love is stars but also black holes. Love is depth and also shallow and made potent in the shallows.

A good love story reaches for new definitions. The same-ol’-same-ol’ will sell books, yes. But the writers who give us new ways to dream of, live with, or die for love will be most remembered. I mean, don’t be the rose, be the thorn. Don’t strive for pain but understand the blood. It isn’t what dies but what remains. I hope you see what I’m saying.

Because Frankly, Scarlett, we do give a damn. Just not for what has “always been.” Because tomorrow IS another day and we can remake it to be more to our liking. Love without expectation and fulfillment. Love without apology or excuses. Love without like or ego. Love with greed but not hurtful. Love with envy but not destructive. Experiment. Love doesn’t’ need to cry and neither does it need to smile. Love can be jealous and still be good. Love can do endless things.

Take the boy or girl who fell in love and love was returned and then moved away. Not died, just gone. Slowly to be replaced by reality. Find love in the dark room of the paralyzed soul who can no longer express the love but hopes to, despite the odds, walk, but maybe not to be married, and maybe never gets to. Still, love lives.

I like the darker side of love, the one where fear keeps the light off, where shining a light might break the spell, or prevent one. I believe that love has a tremulous side that bleeds in the dark, that cries in the light, that lives without like, and that cries because it is happy not to have to forgive again.

Just because this week you hope to receive something beautiful or yummy, does not mean you should forget that love, glorious love, can be dark and inglorious, strong when it is weakest, scary when it is light. And lovely in the shadows. Don’t be afraid to redefine happily ever after into never ever.

Try some speculative fiction, a ghost story, something irreverent, a supernatural thriller, a true life mystery (without a resolution). Remember “dark” does not have be twisted or perverse. Dark can be simply unusual and unexpected with a creepy twist. Try erotica with something atypical. Or try a fairytale where the frog never gets to be a prince and goes without a “princess.” Can there still be love? Can it be a kind yet undefined? Why not? Maybe the twist is being in love with freedom from love.

See love in new ways and learn to write about it with darker daring, without stereotypes and without fear. Find love in the dark by turning on the light and staring deep into its eyes. You might fall in love all over again with new truths. And it will make your dark chocolates taste even richer. Look into the abyss and dance with shadows. Fall in love for no reason. Then walk away.

Like different percentages of dark chocolates, so there are levels for darkness in love. Try some! And just for you, I’ll turn out the light.

Happy Valentine’s Day all you daring lovers.
I remain, yours between the lines,
Sherry