NaNoMo Day 2: 2750 words

So much for doubling yesterday’s word count! This is what happens when I write on my laptop with its high-speed Internet and email access. Dangerous stuff. Tomorrow I’ll be on the road with the AlphaSmart so we’ll see what happens.

Nonetheless, I wrote some of the hardest scenes in the book. It’s the middle of Act II when my heroine makes her major emotional transition. I can’t say more or else I’ll give it away and considering that this is a first draft, it’ll probably change.

Mrs. V asked in the comments of my videoblog if this is a fictional or nonfictional story. It’s a paranormal women’s fiction with roots in family lore. I’ve been inspired by my great grandmothers, Eduvijen Holguin Melendez and Inez Mendez Vasquez, and my grandmothers, Margaret Castillo and Maria Mendez. My character, Anna Vazquez is a mix of my grandmothers’ rebellious and independent spirits, and Great Grandma Vazquez’s ironclad strength. Another character in the book is my Great Grandma Eduvijen. When I get my act together, I’ll scan their photos and post them on the blog. But don’t hold your breath.

NaNoMo Day 1: 3750 words


Today was my first day of NaNoMo and I logged in 3,750 words or 15 manuscript pages. For inspiration, I studied this photo that I found on eBay, of all places. She captures who my character, Anna Vazquez, will become at the end of the story.

Tomorrow I hope to turn in 20 manuscript pages, which will put me up to my normal speed.

Onward!

Fires in CA

I’m interrupting our regular programming to ask for your thoughts and prayers to go out to the fire fighters who are battling the blazes out here in California. My dad is on-call and my brother, who is now with the Federal Fire Department, may be deployed if more fires break out. Last night, the Santa Ana winds died down, but its still hot and dry out there.

Thanks for your time and energy and now please enjoy my Q&A with Diana Rodriguez Wallach!

Random Thoughts on Gardening and Writing

Image from Art.com

Last week the Little Dude and I did some serious gardening. We tore out a bunch of overgrown, rosemary bushes that revealed something resembling lavendar that had been smothered to death. We encountered peril in the form of black widows the size of quarters, pincher bugs and nosey neighbors. We weeded, tilled the soil, planted irises, daffodils and calla lillies and when that wasn’t enough, we mulched it all.

You’d think I’d have a rockin’ garden after all that toil but not so much. You can see the mounds where the iris rhizomes promise to break through the soil in triumph. But that won’t happen till the spring. Ditto on the daffodils. The callas are a little limp from the shock of relocating under the pine tree and I won’t see a flower until March if we have a warm winter.

The Little Dude was happy having flung dirt every which way. I was scratched, sweaty and sore but hopeful … kind of like how I feel looking at the outline of my next book. Like the garden, there’s not much to look at. I once showed the outline of Switchcraft to my agent and she immediately called me expressing much concern that there wasn’t a book in it. I explained it was an outline, you know, like the charcoal sketches that Michelangelo did detailing hands, feet and I think a nose or two of the characters he’d eventually painted onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. My explanation was met with tense silence. It was a tough road but as you know, it all turned out okay for both Michelangelo and to a lesser extent, Switchcraft.

Anyway, I got to thinking that us gardeners and writers have to have a lot of patience and a lot of hope to pull it off. We have to look at the bald spots and churned up soil and imagine the the gray-green spires of the irises and their ruffled flowers. We have to hope that the vulnerable seeds will work their magic in the dark soil. Even when their brave, tender bodies break ground, we fear some careless shoe will crush it. Of course, there’s work to be done in the watering, feeding and weeding; a garden, nor a book is possible without work … sometimes very tedious and repetitive work.

So keep that thought in mind when you hit page 200 and wonder if maybe you oughta go back and rethink this idea. Or, when you get revision notes from your agent/editor/critique partner on the eighth draft of your book. In other words, when you’re this close to giving up, remember that gardens and books are only as good as those who tend to them. Wimps need not apply.

Okay, I admit that I wrote that more for my benefit than yours but if it works for you, cool. If not, sorry. I’m sure my buddy Margo Candela is blogging about something much more interesting than I am.

But if you have little people running loose in your house, may I recommend the following? The Little Dude gives it two thumbs up.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLw3ExL18r8&hl=en&fs=1]

The Way We Were

This weekend I threw a baby shower for my bestest friend, Jen Mahal. (Look at us from my wedding in 2000 … weren’t we dishy?) It’s a real moment of truth seeing the shy girl you met in high school drama class become a mother. As I looked across the table at her, I wondered what happened to the girls we were? Firmly ensconced in our thirties, we’re now wives and mothers; professional writers and journalists. It’s safe to say that we’re officially adults and yet speaking for myself, I don’t feel like one.

I certainly don’t dress like one as evidenced by this photo taken at the San Diego Burn Run in July:

I’m beginning to suspect that like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Benjamin Buttons, the older I get, the less mature I become and you know what? I like the person I see in the mirror. She makes me laugh. She doesn’t get all het up over saying stupid things, or not appearing cool because she now knows that “cool people” are, in actuality, boring people who wouldn’t know a good fart joke if it came out of their own ass.

As we get older, our lives get harder and yet, it doesn’t help if you become hard. This past January I had to find a new agent and embrace that my writing had changed, rather than try to replicate what I’d been doing with my past books.

If I had allowed the experience to harden me, I don’t think I could’ve kept going. If I hadn’t learned to roll my eyes and channel anger into action, I wouldn’t have found my way out of the darkness. This summer I revised The Ballad of Aracely Calderon (again), I spent a lot of time with my family and published a feature story looking back at the life and career of Ritchie Valens (yes, I got to meet the Donna!); I profiled Jay Hernandez from Hostel in Latino Future and Jose Aponte, director of the San Diego County Library. Next month, I will see my very first cover story in Rise Up magazine about the civil rights case, Mendez v. Westminster. From the emails I’ve received, my story on biracial Latinas in LatinaVoz helped some readers understand the racism they’ve experienced from their own families.

I never would’ve had these adventures if I’d kept plodding along doing the same thing. This fall, starting with Ylse creator and star, Ruth Livier on Tuesday, I hope to introduce you to more women who are daring, playful and brave.

Best,
Mary