Sisterhood

Since the death of Spelman Sister, Jasmine Lynn c/o 2012, two weeks ago only blocks from Spelman’s gates I have been unable to shake thoughts of my alma mater and the senselessness of the crime. As today is a 13th day of the month (my favorite day to look within to make sure I’m still on the right track) I’ve thought a lot about my years at 350 Spelman Lane and its impact on my life.

Last month I was given the honor of presenting my newest Spelman sister before the community as we celebrated our local students leaving for college. For the occasion I was asked to speak on Spelman’s history and its meaning. What follows is the text of the speech. My heart remains “supreme and true”.

Good Afternoon,

I am here today to honor one of ours as she takes the next step on her life’s path toward all her goals and dreams. That next step begins at my alma mater, Spelman College. I’ve been asked to share a little of Spelman’s history and try to give some context to what lies ahead for my newest Spelman sister.

With only $100 and an invitation to use the basement of Atlanta’s Friendship Baptist Church, Sophia B. Packard and Harriet E. Giles, missionary teachers from Massachusetts, opened the Atlanta Baptist Female Seminary on April 11, 1881.

They had eleven students, all black—ten women and a girl eager to learn to read and write.

In 1882 while on a fundraising trip to New England, Miss Packard and Miss Giles were introduced to John D. Rockefeller. The next year Mr. Rockefeller financed the purchase of nine acres of land west of downtown Atlanta and five buildings. Prompting Miss Packard to change the school’s name to Spelman Seminary in honor of Mr Rockefeller’s wife, Laura Spelman Rockefeller in 1884.

Later that decade the Seminary was granted a Georgia state charter. And by 1910 enrollment had grown from those first eleven students to 800 high school and college students and the curriculum included basic high school and college programs with specializations in teacher, missionary and nurses’ training.

In 1924 Spelman Seminary became a liberal arts college for Negro women.

Since 1987 it has been headed by three distinct African-American women. Two of which are Floridians. Dr. Johnnetta Betsch Cole served as President from 1987 to 1997 and hails from Jacksonville. Appointed in 2002, the current Sister President, Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum was born in Tallahassee. Thus, Floridians continue to play a pivotal role in the legacy of Georgia’s most distinguished institution.

Miss Bri Taylor: You are about to embark on a journey that is both a point of public pride for your family and community and a personal endeavor for yourself, both honored and historic. You will encounter young women very different from yourself while at the same time in surprising ways they will be the same. You will create lifelong memories and make life-sustaining friendships. You will face new ideas, new obstacles and challenges to who you are and what you believe about yourself and the world around you and it will not always be easy.

You will be introduced to an entirely new vocabulary. One that distinguishes between colors like Columbia, Carolina and Spelman blue. You will become all too familiar with the Spelman white dress, brown hosiery and black shoes; and you will learn what Spelman white is not: it is not eggshell, mother-of-pearl or ecru, but white—Spelman white. You will embrace green as the color of 2013 and the emblem of the Lamp, for light and guidance, challenging you and your classmates to strive to send forth your light into the world. You will learn more than anyone cares to know about the natural habits and environs of big cats—including the Clark-Atlanta Panther, the Morris Brown Wildcat, the Morehouse Tiger and the most regal of the species, the Spelman Jaguar.

Your speech with be littered with ramblings about convocations, Spelmanites, Spel-House, Club Woody, Abbey Hall, the LLCs. You will chat for hours about Fridays at Manley, your adopted Morehouse Brother and tons of Big Sisters that your parents may never meet. And most importantly, you will live the words “supreme and true”—a phrase that will take on new meaning and set the standard for the rest of your life.
Again, let me stress that it will not be easy. Yet, you will persevere because you have been chosen for your strength and intelligence and your promising potential to serve and to lead.

Sitting on 39 acres of prime Atlanta real estate and an endowment of more than $340 million, Spelman College (The crème de la crème of the “Black Ivy League”) continues to hold its own as one of America’s elite institutions. With students from 42 states and 25 countries and nearing 14,000 alumnae worldwide, wherever your life or travels take you, you are likely to encounter Spelman women by word and/or deed.

Throughout its 128 year history, Spelman College has remained steadfast in its mission of educating African American women for leadership and service. Forever “supreme and true.”

Miss Bri Taylor, welcome to the Sisterhood.

My Writing Life

When I set up this blog a few years ago, I intended to use it to document my journey through the process of creating a “writing life”. What that meant at the time, I don’t think I knew. But in the process of hiring a writing coach I have thought more about what a “writing life” is to me.

I’m sure my “dream” writing life resembles that of many others: a successful writing career being one where you write daily and get paid handsomely to do it. It’s a simple idea . . . get up every morning, make it to the desk in pjs and armed with cup of your favorite warm beverage, turn on the computer and words begin to flow from your fingers to keys and appear the LCD screen in glorious resolution for hours (at least four if your aim is to be a disciplined, serious writer) or until your bladder or your empty stomach forces you out of the chair. Whether you allow yourself mid-morning, lunch or mid-afternoon breaks is up to you. But each and every day centers around “the writing” because that is what makes it a “writing life”.

While I know this description is accurate for many writers today, it is so far from what my daily routine was when I began this blog that the thought of a writing life seemed both impossible and hell of indulgent. After all, in today’s economy, you’ve got to write a few books before you get paid and even then the payday is not likely to support a writing schedule like the one outlined above (or at least in the way this novelist would like it to).

So what’s a girl to do? Understanding that a “writing life” is different things to different people, I spent this summer examining what it means to me and how it fits into my life as a full-time teacher/counselor/adviser, favorite daughter, favorite auntie, best friend, avid reader, life-long learner, genealogist/family historian, amateur photographer, master procrastinator.

The first thing I realized is that lots of things have to give. The first sacrifice . . . photography. I cannot maintain a photoblog and create the writing life I desire. Life-long learner . . . nice, but no more grad school ideas, visions of returning to law school, French classes, until after two novels are sold (how’s that for boundaries, goals, focus?) While television isn’t the distraction for me that it is for most (I almost never watch) I can get caught up in the news of the day, politics and sports info. Saying no to MSNBC, CNN, ESPN(s), C-SPAN(s), except in small doses. Next, family history. I cannot lose days, weeks, months at a time researching four family lines if I want to finish this novel in the next decade (maybe Book 3 will utilize that some of that research). The last and probably the biggest challenge to my writing life? Procrastination. I procrastinate because there are so many options cluttering my life (only a few of which are mentioned in this post). My answer (an obvious one) is to de-clutter. So, I did. I cleaned up and threw out all that wasn’t absolutely necessary to my life in the next 12 months. It’s a very freeing experience and I recommended it enthusiastically.

With everything organized I pulled up the novel on the laptop and began the revision. It’s been three months and although I haven’t written every day, I’ve thought about what I am writing and done other work to make the writing easier every day. Will this work? Is this a “writing life”? I don’t know. Check back in six months. If I’ve finished the revision, then perhaps it is working. Check back in a year. If I’m finished with Book 1 and lost in Book 2, them maybe I have created a writing life. Who knows. I was reminded a few weeks ago that “Writers write.” My guess is that writing is what makes a writing life.

Q

Writing Update

The latest on the Final Burn (what I’ve decided to call this revision of the novel since I no longer have a working title–that’s another blog post entirely).

This past week I worked on Part II–Miss Tia’s section. It’s 80 pages long and I’ve made my way through about 35. I’ve actually read all 80 pages of the section, but revised a little over 30. It’s tough because originally this was Tia and Turo’s story and all of the action went through them. Now it’s not. The story no longer starts with the two of them coming together which means I’ve got to get clear of the angle of her perspective and what is important to her part of the story. Yes, I’m stressing a little over her. Since the beginning Tia has been the most difficult for me to write. But today I went back to the Paris draft and began just reading it to see how her character developed. I hope to outline it tomorrow in hopes that it will give me the big picture and her singular perspective-both the forest and the trees, perhaps.

I’m also working with a writing coach as of last Friday. That should be fun. It promises to be work on a schedule. Our first critique/feedback/coaching session is September 9th. I’m working hard to be prepared.

I also handed over the newly revised Part I to three trusted first readers last week. I can’t wait to get that feedback. All I ask for is honesty. I need to know what the reader sees, thinks and feels about it from page 1. I’m sure they will give it to me straight.

That’s all for now.

Q

Day 2

of this new commitment to writing every morning before work. The task is very simple this week: read the pieces of Part I and make a plan for the final burn. It sounds simple but at 5:30, I hit snooze. I could take snooze off that alarm setting, but I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll be more likely to just turn it off and go back to sleep. We’ll see. I did finally make it out of bed at 6:00 and that’s better than nothing. I read a re-tweet yesterday that said it best: “Writers write. Get back to work!” Amen. Now let’s see what I can do . . .

Where Has Summer Gone?

It seems like just yesterday I was trying to make time for back to back to back commencements. I was planning for a slow three months of summer with minimal commitment to not much more than a few strolls to take a picture or two. The months of May and June went well or at least the picture taking did. We took a few trips to Georgia for family get togethers and it was easy to find new and interesting scenes to snap.

Then came July . . . the good thing: I was back at it. Pushing through the end of the novel to see if I could make enough sense of the structure I imagined to pull it together. I wrote/re-wrote 30k in 30 days following the advice of Jacqui Lofthouse and began to see light at the end of this tunnel.

But then July wound down and so did my energy. I mapped out a plan for what I believe will be the final rewrite, but that’s about as far as I got. I’ve spent the last few weeks de-cluttering my spaces so that I’m ready for the first days of school (next week).

Yes, the summer is all but over. I’m not complaining because I have been productive. It’s just always sad to say goodbye to warm, sunny yesterdays.

Q

Michael Joseph Jackson

August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009

REST in peace.

Never Can Say Goodbye

It’s been a very difficult day. Saying goodbye to a legend is always hard. With all the conversations focused on the best entertainer of all time, I decided to reflect on my favorite MJJ songs (today, tomorrow’s list might be different).

1. Rock With You
2. Man In The Mirror
3. Enjoy Yourself
4. Heartbreak Hotel (This Place Hotel)
5. I Can’t Help It
6. Butterflies
7. Where You Are
8. I Want You Back
9. Billie Jean
10. Got To Be There
11. Lovely One
12. Show You The Way To Go
13. Lady In My Life
14. Farewell My Summer Love
15. Break of Dawn
16. Never Can Say Goodbye
17. Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough
18. I’ll Be There
19. Liberian Girl
20. Who’s Loving You

Advice From The Writing Coach

A little over a year ago as I closed in on the completion of the second full draft of my novel, The Skinny, I stumbled upon a website of a writing coach name Jacqui Lofthouse. Her blog was interesting and her ideas about writing seemed to take writing serious, but also light enough that I didn’t feel like a total slouch for taking four years to get this novel done.

I read some of her advice and downloaded a free copy of the first five days of her eBook on writing. At the time, I was writing pretty hot and nearing the end of a long rewrite and looking forward to workshopping the novel, not writing. I finished the revision, entered it in the Emory Goes Novel contest and was named a finalist. I then workshopped the novel on the Cape and got tons of feedback.

Then August came and I planned to begin draft #3 but didn’t write anything. There are lots of reasons why: I wasn’t feeling well; I was confused about where to begin; it had been a long summer; the fall was busy; my day job was hectic; my house was loud; I was lazy–all excuses, all true. The fact remains that I didn’t write. In January I made New Year’s Resolutions. Number 1: Finish the novel. Nothing happened. I just didn’t write.

Honestly, the whole idea I beginning yet another rewrite was just too overwhelming. It was so much easier to do nothing, and so I did nothing. Then in April I started a photoblog to get my creativity flowing and of course, as always, that got me wanting to write. School ended last week and now All I have is downtime and while planning my summer I was flipping through an old notebook and I found the copy of Jacqui Lofthouse’s first five days. At that point I had nothing to lose. I wasn’t writing anything.

At least with her program I’d get 1000 words on the page. Yes, it might be bad. I was almost sure it would be very bad considering that I hadn’t written a word connected to the novel in a year, but last Thursday I started the quest to write 30,000 words in 30 days. I decided that if I put down 30,000 words on draft #3, in a months’ time I would be 30,000 words closer to finally finishing this novel.

I just finished Day 6 and I have more than 9000 words written. I’m simply free-writing and so I can’t guarantee that it’s any good, but it’s 9k more words than I had written last week this time and right now that better than any other attempts I’ve made in over a year.

I posted a word meter to show my progress and I’ll try to post frequent updates.

Q

Something New

Okay, I admit it. My blogging has been erratic, at best. I have lots of ideas but they never make it to the blog. But summer is almost here and I’ve been planning for the long days. I hope to take a writing class on structuring the novel–something I am still struggling with, and I’ve also dedicated the summer to taking better photographs. I have a 35mm film camera that’s been collecting dust and a digital that I just do know how to turn on. So, this is the summer to learn everything there is to know about pictures. And for the second time on a blog I am challenging myself to take pictures every day and post one for the world to see. I’ve even set up a photoblog at aminus3. Click here to take a look.

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His Name Is Ray-Ray,

Ray-Ray. No matter what the standings are, no matter what kind of streak the Cavs or the Lakers put together, the Celtics are still the team to beat. Everyone who knows me knows I love basketball and there’s no greater basketball player than the original number 23, the always amazing MJ, the always imitated, never quite duplicated Air Jordan. But, the star of Jordan’s latest Jumpman commercial–Become Legendary–the one and only, Ray-Ray added to his legend last night.

Jordan’s Bobcats were in the Garden and you never sleep on a team led by Jordan and Larry Brown and for at least three of the four quarters in regulation the Cats had the Celts by the clover and luck had left the building. But as the time ran down in the fourth, who found a way to put the ball in the basket? Ray-Ray. And then with time running down in the first overtime who nailed the trey? Ray-Ray. And even after a sorry looking air ball that didn’t even come close to anything but air and had me wondering what could have happened to make Walter Ray put up such a shot, who came through with a spot-up three from the corner with only 2.1 left on the clock in overtime no. 2? His name is Ray-Ray, Ray-Ray. (Ya’ll know I love that song . . .).

Hey, but it’s not just me. Paul Pierce knows it too.

“His confidence is through the roof regardless if he’s missed two, three, or four hundred shots in a row, he always feels like the next one is going to go in,” Pierce said. “I’ll proclaim Ray the greatest shooter in the history of the NBA that I’ve ever seen.”

His name is Ray-Ray, Ray-Ray . . .

Mr. President

It’s a new day!

Inauguration Day In America

“Shut Eye” On-Line

Santa Fe Writers’ Project in Santa Fe, New Mexico, has chosen The Meroe Stories as a finalist for their 2008 Literary Awards.  Chapter Two:  “Shut Eye” has been published on-line at sfwp.org.

Queen Eva-Marie always did say every good-bye ain’t gone and every shut-eye ain’t sleep. Nightfall brings a hush over even the nosiest places and that includes the Quarters. A late spring breeze circulates air already too warm and kicks up limerock dust on the edges of Palmer Road. A slice of silver moon illuminates the sky and the spirit of the family’s matriarch looks over the inhabitants of 26 Palmer. There is a young married woman not even twenty-five yet sleeping in a twin bed with her four-year-old daughter, intertwined tightly as if the warm breeze is threatening their embrace. Their sleep is secure and deep, unlike the sleep of the six-year-old on the sofa in the front room. He is fitful. Twisting, turning, fighting the sheet and others, seen and unseen.

[Read full story . . .]

Take the Flash Fiction Challenge

I’m challenging myself, during these busy days of winter, to 28-Days of Flash Fiction. I pledge to write and post a piece of flash fiction (200 words or less) everyday for four weeks.

Q

That Monkey Grows

With the election over, I’m back to watching basketball, Celtics basketball. It’s either Celtics or Pistons. No other team will do. Last night it was the Cs on ESPN. A so-called rivalry game with the upstart Atlanta Hawks. I’ll just say I agree with Kevin Garnett when he says, it’s not a rivalry until the other team wins a few. The Hawks haven’t yet won one when it counts. No rivalry here.

Celtics-Pistons: That’s a rivalry. Just ask my six-year-old nephew. He’s a Pistons fan (actually he’s a Tayshaun fan) and when Detroit and Boston square off he and I usually end up in an argument. I still love the Pistons and it goes without saying that I love my nephew, but when the Celts won the most recent showdown (November 20) in Beantown, I could hardly wait until the next morning to inform him that his Bad Boys lost! (His bedtime came nearing the end of the first quarter with the outcome still in doubt and the Iverson Added Pistons still with a chance).

Celtics-Lakers: Some say that’s a rivalry or at least Kobe Bean thinks so. All I know it that it was once a rivalry. We’ll see what happens on Christmas Day.

Rivalries aside, the Celtics are on a serious streak. Sixteen straight wins in the NBA is no small feat, especially when you’re the reigning World Champions and you have a target bigger than the Target Center on your back. KG, Ray, Paul and Rondo all had something to prove last year. KG said it best as the confetti rained down in them in the Garden “What can you say now?” But it seems that others have had plenty to say this year as they give all praise the the Cavs and Lakers, leaving the Celtics success as an afterthought.

But they’re still winning. It won’t last always. As a Celtic said earlier this week, they don’t expect to go 80-2, but they want to get better as a team and position themselves to hang banner #18. Last night was win #16, a hard fought W against a confident Atlanta team. The Celtics showed why they’re still the team to beat. And yes, winning itself can be a heavy load. But if you talk to any player or even a fan of the game, winning always feels a lot lighter than losing. Ask Ray Allen. When questioned about the Celtics’ winning streak last night he said,

“Sometimes it seems as though it’s a burden. That monkey grows. It’s a good monkey though.”

Wouldn’t trade it for the world, (unless that included another World Championship, of course.)

Q

Yes We Can

Nothing
can stand in the way
of the power of millions of voices
calling for change . . .

-Barack Obama, New Hampshire, January 2008

Wordle(ing) My Day Away

Here’s Chapter 2:

Q

Wordle

While surfing the net today, wasting time–something I haven’t had much time to do lately–I came across this on Tayari’s blog.

It’s a graphic representation of my word usage in Chapter 1.

Happy writing!
Q

Book Notes: Eat, Pray, Love

I finally sat down and read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. After hearing all the praise in the media, and more importantly on the recommendation of many readers and writers (Michele, Leslie, Daniel) I pulled the copy from my bookshelf and started to read. I’ll just add that I bought the book back in December.

It took about three days to read it (one section per day) and I must admit that I enjoyed the “Eat”/Italy section the most. I think that says more about me than anything about Elizabeth Gilbert or her writing. More than anything else, I could relate to her decision to not have children and her analysis of the predicament that puts women in, even in 2008, even in America–”the land of the free”. As a woman who has chosen that path I am all to familiar with the odd looks, the accusations of selfishness, and the very real fear and feelings of displacement/out-of-placeness that comes with what is still an uncommon choice. She articulates the difficulty of the situation better than anyone I’ve known or read on this point. I often find myself trying to describe it to friends or even put it to words in my writing and I almost never get it right or am able to get to the heart of it. Elizabeth does get to the heart of it in the first section of the book and returns to it again when she meets the young girl at the Ashram and again when she meets Wayan and Tutti in Bali.

Overall, it’s a touching, well-rendered story, and a well-written memoir.

Q

The Ever-Expanding Library

While browsing this morning, I came across this wonderful article about the love of books by Alberto Manguel. I’m always amazed to find others who love books as much as I do, and amused that others have storage issues greater than mine.

I’ve spent the last six months trying to create a managable space for my books. More than half of my collection remains in storage, but even the decisions about what goes to storage and what gets to stay is agonizing. Every week I end up going back to storage for that one book I need right now. It’s insane.

I found Manguel’s piece on his ever growing library to be both entertaining and imspiring.

Happy reading and writing,

Q

Summertime

When the year started, I had one thing on my mind–finish this draft of the novel. Well, I accomplished that last month and so I began wondering about my summer. I’d applied to a few places earlier this year. No residencies (that’s a project for next summer or a summer to come), just a few workshops that will allow me to commune with other writers. So I applied to one or two along with my submissions to literary magazines and a handful of contests. I hadn’t heard from any and so I was getting a little anxious. Then I checked my mail late last night and there it was–a message from my new best friend, Dorothy, informing me that I have been awarded a scholarship for a week at the Fine Arts Work Center! I was pleasantly surprised, mostly because I applied on a whim after my friend Nadine told me about a great class being offered by one of my favorite writers. So, I’m going back to Mass. after all these years. I may even hang out in Boston for a few days before–just for fun. I haven’t been to Beantown in sixteen years! Time really does fly.

I have one other one that I’m waiting on. You know, the usual, watching the mailboxes, but I’m also trying to think through my approach to what I hope will be the final draft of this novel. I want to begin June 1.

I do have a few distractions . . . a cute futbol player and the NBA playoffs (some loves are forever). As long as Tayshaun and KG are still in it, I’m watching. And as much as I like Joe Smith I can’t cheer for him while he’s wearing a Cavs uni. Go Celts! I don’t know what I’m going to do when Boston and Detroit meet in the East Finals.

Happy Writing,

Q

Emory Goes Novel

I finished the 3rd draft of the novel at 5:12 PM. I’m not 100% satisfied with it as a complete novel, but it is closer to the story I’m trying to tell than ever before. I got the length down from 459 pages to a more manageable 345. I will take a break from it for a week or two and then begin draft number 4.

May 1 was the deadline for this draft because it was the deadline for my full submission to Emory Goes Novel, Emory University’s novel writing contest. I submitted the opening chapters in February and learned in March that I made the short list and was named a top ten finalist. That pushed the final draft deadline to May 1. It was a lot of work and a lot of stress to get it done, but I made it!

My challenge now is to regroup and take on what I hope will be the final draft. I’m excited about where I want to take it. It’s still a great story and I hope that one day soon I will have the opportunity to share it with the world.

Reading: Charles Baxter’s The Art of Subtext

Happy reading!

Q

Almost Lost

Last night, while talking on the phone with my friend, Alicia, I decided to shut down my computer for the night and I closed the most recent draft of the re-vision (the draft I’d been working on every waking moment for the past three days). Because I’m paranoid about computers, and out of sheer habit, I immediately went to the desktop to re-open it–something I just do, I can’t explain why. It wasn’t there. I did a search for it and found nothing. Alicia said goodbye so she could go give her daughter a bath and I hung up almost before she finished her last sentence. I had changed the name to EGNDraft two days before but I hadn’t emailed it to myself (which is what I most often do as back up).

I did the search again, hoping that I’d just overlooked it. It had to be there. I knew this because while typing the last few chapters I was clicking save at the end of every paragraph even though the autosave was working just fine. Nothing, no where. I got that sinking feeling and began to wonder what in the world I was going to do if the last three days of work were gone. The only draft I could find was the draft from last Thursday night (before I’d changed the document name).

I grabbed my notebook and went next door to ask my mother and sister to look for it. Another set of eyes is always good. They couldn’t find it. I’m sure my sister could see the look of panic on my face. I’d been buried in this rewrite for the past month. I had nothing in longhand, only a few sparse notes about some Coltrane dates and basic plot changes. Which wouldn’t be much help since I had changed much of the ending and written most of the last three days off the top of my head. And I hadn’t done line editing since Thursday and so nothing had been printed out.

She took one look at what had to be look of absolute helplessness and called her friend Julius. Julius is the king of computers. It’s his job somehow. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what he does exactly, but he is my family’s Geek Squad. Up until now, my requests have been simple, “Will you help me add a memory card?” or “Which system is better for this or that?” He is always helpful, always gracious–even when he’s probably thinking “You’ve got to be kidding?” It’s my former sister-in-law and my mother who have the more demanding calls to Julius when their harddrive has crashed or been infected by spyware. But last night, I was happy to hear Julius on the other end of the phone. “Relax. We’ll find it,” he said, and we did. After searching places I didn’t know existed on my computer, he walked me through a search that brought up a string of temporary files. I opened a folder and there it was. I have never in my life been so happy to see that little Word document icon–EGNDraft. I could have cried. All I managed was an emphatic “Thank you” and an offer to buy dinner (I don’t cook). He was as gracious as ever.

Honestly, as I write this and consider that I could have lost it, I’m still a little shaky. I don’t think I would have made it out of bed this morning if I hadn’t found that draft. Thank God for Julius!

Happy writing!
Q

Novel Update

It’s only been forever since I’ve written a blog, but the good news is that I’ve been writing. I spent all of Spring Break writing the revision. It’s coming along.

I spent a few hours on Chapter 16 yesterday and I had one of those gifts from the muse. I was adding a new scene to the chapter and I knew where Tia and Turo were, but honestly, I didn’t have a clue as to what they were supposed to do next to get them where they need to be in Chapter 17. But I began typing anyway. They made their way to a storage closet and although I had no idea that they were going there or even what they might find, I went with it. Surprise, suddenly I knew exactly why they were there and what it would mean to the rest of the story. In a matter of minutes I had them out of the closet and on their way to the next critical scene. I read it again this morning and I’m still amazed at how the scene unfolded. I guess all the writers, teachers and writing teachers are right. Writers write and there are no real tricks. You just sit your butt in the chair and write or die trying.

Happy Wednesday and happy writing! I have one week until my deadline (May 1) to finish this draft (number 4). I’m trying to focus, no basketball playoffs, no baseball, and no cutie soccer (oops, I mean) “futbol” players. It’s novel time.

Au revoir,
Q

More of Page 123

Okay, so I was working diligently on the revision at five a.m. and I started to wonder what was on page 123 of the two previous drafts of this novel-in-flux (because change is not always progress).  Out of sheer curiosity I pulled up the other drafts. 

Page 123 in the 400+ page draft that I workshopped in Paris and forced four unsuspecting writers to read, goes like this:   

“Did I like it?  Of course I did.”⁴  “What did you like about it?”⁵  And that was where she was lost.⁶  She always wanted to say it was pretty but the truth was that it wasn’t always pretty.⁷  Sometimes the intensity and forcefulness of the sound was anything but pretty but it was her son and she loved every note that fell from his horn because she was his mother and she was proud of him, and besides, everyone loved Turo’s music.⁸

In the scene Cassie Maxwell is musing over a conversation she once had with her husband about a song her youngest son had composed and shared with them. 

Page 123 in the first complete draft that I wrote in six weeks of morning pages that only my sister and my first reader Michele suffered through, goes like this:

“Mark my words.⁵  Lena will rue the day.⁶  That man has evil eyes.”⁷  Then Me-Ma took the only picture showing Alistair Drake’s dark blue eyes and stuffed it in the pocket of her blue gingham house dress.⁸  

In the scene Taffy Brown remembers her grandmother’s first impression of Alistair Drake from a photo Taffy’s sister, Selena, sent home informing them of her impromptu marriage. It’s amazing how so much is contained in a few lines. 

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