How to not write in the morning when I have the time.

So yesterday I snuck away to the Lighthouse writers house in Denver, set myself up with a table and wrote for four and a half hours. Girls went to see the Hunger Games. Boys went with Daddy to play in the Apple store at the mall. I was guilt free and focused.  I wrote and wrote on something that did not have quite the right shape. At hour three and a half I had a brilliant flash as I realized that two of the characters should actually be one character. By the end of the last hour I was walking on air - everything seemed to fall into place and I could see where this whole thing was going!

This morning I got up early, worked out vigorously for an hour, came home and set up to write while all were still asleep - Got my favorite background music going. It was still dark so I lit a candle. I wrote in my head about how nice it feels to have a bit of candle light or fire light in the grey pre-dawn. I checked my e-mail. I ate breakfast. I poked around on facebook. The sun peeked up over the horizon. I reread what I wrote yesterday. Didn’t look quite so brilliant this morning. I watched youtube videos of cuttlefish for a few minutes. I marveled at the technology - I can idly wonder about cuttlefish and boom! instant gratification. 

The sun is fully up. The kiddos are stirring. I kick myself for piddling away two hours of prime writing time. Sigh...

Metamorphosis

I’m writing screenplay number two in a trilogy of stories about an epic mythic world. I sketched out the major plot points in an outline and read it to my children for a bedtime story.

“So,” I said when I had finished, “what did you think?”

“Sea monsters can’t breath fire,” piped up the youngest, “What use would that be to them in the water?”

“Maybe when the sea monster hits land it can grow legs - then it could breath fire.” offered my middle daughter.

“Yeah!” said middle son, “and then when it is drowned in the flood at the end of the big battle, you could see it crawl out and become a chrysalis! Then it could show up later in the story...with WINGS!!”

“Oooo!” I replied, “a dragon with a metamorphic life cycle. I like it!”

“I think you need some more about the kid as he grows up,” added my eldest daughter, “He’s just kind of a baby and then the next thing you know he’s eleven and everything about him is surprising.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, looking around at my fast growing crew, “That is how it is all right.”

“So maybe at a couple scenes so we get to know him,” she finished helpfully.

There will have to be an authors note at the end that the story was co-written by all the Peterson children!

First Day Spring Break

First day and the week spreads out before us full of potential.  What a wonderful moment. The sun is warm, there is no rush. Everyone stays in pajamas. I don’t have to push anyone to do anything, anything at all. I go to a “spin class” - a class where we all ride stationary bikes to music and the encouragements of the trainer. Sounds a bit odd, but really quite challenging. I come home for breakfast and everyone is still happily lounging about in pjs. I go to the first session of the advanced screen writing class (ooo! advanced!) and come home for lunch. The girls have eaten, put on swimsuits. They ride off on their bikes to the pool. The boys are building master pieces of lego. The husband wants to browse around CostCo (he loves CostCo). Ahh... first day of spring break.  Everyone is happy.  I sit down to uninterrupted writing time...Lovely!

Youngest Son Guest Post: The Eight Diamond Lords

The evening began with my youngest son looking up at me, a sheaf of Colorado's ‘fill in the bubble’ practice writing tests spilling out of his backpack.

“Mom,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks, “my writing doesn’t have any flow. I feel like tearing up everything!”

So he dictated a story while I typed and then we edited together for flow. Here is the result with the editing below:

            The Eight Diamond Lords


There were people falling from the clouds. The sons of the gods landed in the desert in a western town. The eight lords, each wearing their own color, were hungry so all decided to go to a bar, buy some drinks, and play cards. Then some cowboys came up to them and said “Get out of this bar. You’re not welcome here.” All the lords got in a huge argument and then got in a fight with the cowboys. The gold lord, punched the leader of the cowboys in the face and he went flying back and smashed through the wall. The lords decided to leave the town. While traveling they found awesome looking diamonds. Each of them picked one up. Oh, and did I mention that you can’t see their faces?  The diamonds started glowing the colors of the capes and hoods the lords were wearing. And then a beam from the clouds came down that matched the colors the eight masters were wearing. The beam took them back to their home.

Here is our editing: 


We made one word illegal: “they” (we decided we could keep only one “they”). He  crossed out some words and added new ones in blue. He read bits aloud as he made his decisions. Doing this on the computer seemed to add a bit of high tech fun.

There were people falling from the clouds.

They The sons of the gods landed in the desert in a western town.

They The eight lords, each wearing their own color, were hungry so they all decided to go to a bar, buy some drinks, and play cards. Then a some cowboys came up to them and said

“Get out of this bar. You’re not welcome here.”

And so they all the lords got in this a huge argument and then they got in a fight with the cowboys.

The gold one lord, he punched him the leader of the cowboys in the face and he went flying back and smashed through the wall. And then they the lords decided to leave the town. While And then they were traveling and they found these odd awesome looking diamonds. And each of them picked one up. Oh and did I mention that you can’t see their faces, the people, you can’t see their faces. And so each one picked one up. No - uh mom, I already said that. Mom! I don’t want that in my story.
“Is she writing down what I’m saying?” says big brother.

And the diamonds started glowing what the colors of the capes and hoods they the lords were wearing. And then this a beam from the clouds came down and the beam was that matched the colors what they the eight masters were wearing. and they got The beamed took them back to their home.

In a Chill Morning

Ever have you ever

In a chill morning

Early on the spring

Meant to go swimming 

But the warm bed held you

Just long enough 

So that after the alarm

You fell into a dream of water

stretching in every direction

breathing soft as a mermaid

wondering through caves 

of sun filtered coral and pearl?

Ever have you ever

Turned around slowly
Beneath the hot shower

In the grip of luxury

Even after you are clean

Putting off the stepping 

Out in a chill morning

Soaking in the heat

till you’d used up

all the hot water

then jumped out into a towel

and thought

tomorrow

I’ll go swimming 

tomorrow?

Wallowing

Death’s touch today wrung out every heart

that comes within the compass of my own

and dumb I stood, lacking any art

that sympathies to sorrow could have shown

Pouting to myself, I cast a cloud

Selfish as a Jonah, badly used

brooding on my future in a shroud

all self pity happily excused

Though, soon as I had called, some comfort came

I shrugged it all away as if t’were naught

numbed myself in habit’s drudging shame

shunning tenderness so dearly bought

A robin winked at me one eyebrow cocked

to think I wept ‘cause time could not be stopped

Just sauté some garlic and onions...

So I finished my first ever screenplay. I was writing a book - it still is a book - but it was languishing, languishing. It was like dough that had been left to rise too long in a warm oven, just blob blop blah all over the place. A friend encouraged me to take the screenwriting class and like magic the blah was gone as I whittled it down to things of pith and moment only. Suddenly the story was alive again. I finished! Eighty pages and no dead spots.  Now I want to make it back into a book. I’m on a roll.  So - do I take the next “Advanced” screenwriting class? Now I’m worried I won’t come up with something new. I always feel this way as soon as I have written something. I don’t know where the story comes from when it finally falls together and I have this great fear that the one I have just finished is the last one I will ever be able to come up with. Courage! The habit of writing will carry us through.  It’s just like cooking dinner when you’re home from a long day and feeling uninspired - my dad always said “Just sauté some garlic and onions - then something will occur to you...”