Spring and Writing by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I finally saw a robin this past week.

Though when I posted on Facebook that I’d seen a robin and about spring officially being here, a distant relative who lives just outside of town informed me she’d been seeing robins for several weeks.

Okay, first off, let’s note that she lives in a rural area, whereas I live in an urban area, and I would think more birds would be out in the country than in the city. My opinion only. Though the real issue is that I spent two whole weeks in March stuck at home on muscle relaxants because of a strained back, and I wasn’t even finished with that when I got tendonitis in my right foot.

Ergo I spent most of March and the first week and a half of April stuck in my apartment, and the only time I even went near a window during that time was to see what the neighbor kids were up to because I could hear them laughing.

Needless to say, with little kids running around making lots of noise, there were no birds within sight. I have been out and about since the eleventh, but I never saw a bird in my travels around town. I did hear some chirping outside my window a couple of times, but those were probably the starlings that are nesting in the eaves since I no longer have a row of trees shading my parking spot.

My landlord had all of them chopped down last month.

To be perfectly honest, I was surprised to see that robin outside my place at all. It just didn’t seem logical they’d stop here anymore.

However, on the bright side, I got a lot of editing done while I was laid up. I pulled out an older unfinished manuscript trying to fix the issue I have with it and realized what I needed most was a timeline of the backstory so I could keep it straight when each event that will eventually come into play in the story happened.

I already had a calendar of events in the story. At least the start of it. But I was getting confused about the backstory details, which turned out to include just how old two of the characters were. On re-reading what I have of my manuscript, I realized their ages were too vague and I wasn’t even sure how old they are.

Then, once I fixed that, I realized I might not have their reaction in a certain scene correct, because when I wrote it, I was thinking they were younger, and I honestly wasn’t sure.

So, there I was, staring at the screen trying to decide if I should change the scene, and not knowing if Konnie would know the answer when it dawned on me that my home health aid has younger siblings in the age range needed. And she was right there!

I asked her to read that portion of the scene, pointing out the ages of the three school-aged kids in the scene, and asked her if the two elder ones (8 & 10) would understand the full scope of the conversation going on around them.

The answer was, yes, they would. The five-year-old wouldn’t, but the other two would.

Long story short, I did have the reaction of the five-year-old down pat, but the reaction of her big sisters needed to be changed.

That scene is now fixed.

Now to move on. I need to make other changes because what I did have wasn’t working the backstory in well enough, and some of it was being ignored.

And I have a feeling this isn’t going to be any regular-length novel.

In fact, it may end up as another series.

It seems when I start writing, I tend to include the whole family. And to get the whole backstory in this time, I may have to write several novels. Though I think this time I’ll do what Konnie did to her epic sci-fi and write the whole story from beginning to end, then divide it into books.

And that doesn’t include my epic sci-fi, which needs work, and I have another group of stories, of which only two are completed, but I have several others either started or in outlines.

Yeah, I really need to buckle down and finish more of these stories.

Not sure I will though, especially for the group with two completed stories, because I’m not sure I’m up to the research it would take to write her ancestors’ stories. But I really should finish my sci-fi and the one I’ve been working on.

Do any of you have a series you’re working on?

Anyway, happy writing everyone.

Of Writer’s Block and Stream of Thoughts by Konnie Enos

 

This has been my day. I open the module for one of my classes and check what assignments I have left to do. Okay, easy enough. The assignment is to read the statements and type a response to anywhere from two to five of them. And it’s not long responses, a short paragraph is all that’s needed.

Okay, read the material, wait for a thought to surface, and type those thoughts up. Easy.

I read all the material. Every statement.

Well, that’s not helpful. Not only do I have no response but not one of them even sparked a kernel of a thought.

So, try the next class and come back to this later.

Seriously, in five of six classes, I had the same type of assignments to do. For each one, I’d read the material and have nothing to say or not enough to say to fill the requirements. Oh, and the sixth class, I’m already done with it for this week.

So, umm, that didn’t go well, what else can I do?

Oh! My post.

So, what do I write about?

Yeah, good question. No answers. I’ve got an extreme case of writer’s block.

After fishing around online for several hours and still having no idea what to write about, I finally opened a blank Word document so I could at least try to write, something, anything.

I ignored it for another hour or so. It’s now so late I should be in bed, but I know if I go to sleep now there is a high probability that I won’t get anything written.

First, close everything else.

Two focus on the blank page.

Three, forget the page as I realize I must yet again go to the bathroom.

I sit on the toilet contemplating my existence and my complete lack of idea. Well, stream of thought. I mean how else do you combat writer’s block.

Guess what your stream of thought is when you have no idea what to write about?

Yep. Writer’s block.

The problem is that it’s not helping. I mean I can string words together in a logical manner but it’s not germinating any concrete ideas.

Part of that might be the late hour. After all, it’s after midnight and I woke up at six today, or rather yesterday. Okay, I woke up at six on Tuesday.

Maybe it’s not just a lack of a muse I’m fighting but tiredness. Not that I’m yawning, but if I stopped moving long enough, I’d be snoring right along with my husband. Of course, falling asleep is always that simple for me. Just get comfortable, close my eyes, stop moving, and then I’m asleep. I can also fall asleep while sitting up and trying to do things. But in those cases, I’m exhausted.

Well, there blows that idea. I am exhausted enough to dose off sitting up and attempting to type. That means it is way past time to be going to bed.

Recap. No, my muse isn’t working. Yes, I’m exhausted.

Now what?

Well, I could attempt to fight this for a few more pages or I could give up for the night and try to get some sleep. Which leads me to type with my eyes closed. Believe it or not, touch typing does work when you have your eyes shut.

That does it. I need sleep. Maybe after a few hours, I’ll be able to—

Nothing like falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. So, I’ve gotten almost enough sleep for one night, maybe I can finish this now. Maybe my muse will wake up.

It’s not looking likely.

Since it’s morning and I’m up and moving around, Mabel is looking at me wondering when I’ll feed her breakfast while I’m hoping I can string together enough more words to form a reasonable post in the few minutes I have left before it is time to feed her and the other “fur babies” in this house.

And I’m still staring at the screen without an idea.

I guess this is one time that nothing is going to work to wake up my muse and I’m just going to have to muddle through.

I think between now and when my next post is due, I’m going to engage my youngest in some conversations. The reason for this observation is Royce has tended to spark the muse with his conversations in the past. Then again, all my children have sparked a post or two over the years.

Well, I must get something posted and it is nearly time to feed our “fur babies” so I’m going with this and hope this rambling stream of thought dump will help spark my muse so I can at least get my homework finished.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Easter and Other Things by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I’m sitting here staring at the screen trying to think of something to write, which is a normal problem when it comes to writing my post. Usually, that’s because there isn’t much going on here, but actually, the opposite is true this week. I have to go to work for certification this week.

No big deal, except now the time I had for writing my post, is gone and I have too much on my mind for concentrating on my post.

One look at the calendar will tell you one thing on my mind.

Easter is Sunday.

As you might expect, someone who collects Nativities might just like Easter too!

And I do.

Though, well with Christmas, I shun Santa and snowmen and all that jazz and stick with Nativity-themed decorations, so, I’d like to do the same for Easter, but the majority of the decorations that I can find have to do with Easter eggs and bunnies. Though I have found a nice “Easter Scenes” display in my most recent Deseret Book catalog, which is genuinely nice. Too bad I’m broke this year.

But now you know what I want!

I have “Gethsemane,” as well as “Journey to Bethlehem” and several “Escapes to Egypt,” I even have one “Suffer the Little Children” and at least one “Christus” in my extensive collection. I even have one of Christ standing at the door knocking.

Aside from “Gethsemane,” I have nothing about Easter in my collection. I need to fix that.

On another note, I recently got a message from a guy I don’t know in the real world who was asking to friend me on Facebook. He said he tried to before, but nothing came of it.

Duh!

You will find way fewer men on my friend’s list than women, and the majority of the men there, I am related to. Others I know from high school or church, while others I know of through church, and they are members. I have no problem “friending” women who have something in common with me but that I don’t know in the real world, but men . . . sorry, not going there.

If you are not family, are not a known friend, or a known member of my church, I will not accept your friend request, period. No matter how much you like my post.

And I can tell you right now I doubt Konnie would either, though she is married, and I am a widow. So, I can see why anyone wouldn’t worry about Konnie not friending them and wanting me to. It’s just that I’m not looking. And even if I were, I’m not going to look online. I’d look at church if I were so inclined, but I’m not.

I don’t mind you liking my posts. I don’t mind you reading my posts, but I’m not going to be your friend. Nor am I willing to participate in conversations with you online. I’m not interested in male companionship unless you count Patches, who is resting on my footstool right now. Which happens to be the closest he can get to me when I’m working on my computer.

With that out of the way, how is your writing going?

I recently reread an old manuscript of mine, and it dawned on me that one scene I have wouldn’t play out the way I have it. I had a group of hooligans make a prank bomb threat call, and I don’t have any officials showing up to search for the bomb or anything!

Yeah, absolutely nobody is going to call the bomb squad when someone calls in a bomb threat to a school!

Talk about a big gaping hole in the plot!

So back to the drawing board! Now how do I clear the school without anyone finding my hero and heroine stuck and unable to get out, and without anyone calling in the police or fire department or anything?

Yeah, that’s the problem. Bomb threat means a search, a search would find them, but I don’t want them found until morning. What would clear the school without bringing in reinforcements? That is the major question at this point.

Have you ever written a scene you thought was perfect, then realized you have a flaw in it? Like a huge gaping hole right in the center of it. What did you do to fix it?

What can I do to fix my hole?

Just to let you know, it is not the whole school, and it is after school hours, every student present is putting extra hours on their individual projects, and the prank needs to clear the building close to when they would have closed it anyway.

Anyway, happy writing everyone! And Happy Easter!

Of Late Nights and Memories by Konnie Enos

 Okay, confession time.

I spent so much time and effort studying for my finals this week that I forgot I still had a post to write, even though it was on my to-do list for Tuesday. Only after I was getting ready for bed did I realize that I hadn’t done that one very important task yet.

Now what? At this point, it was past midnight and I absolutely need my rest so I could do well on the two tests I still needed to get done. But, since I hadn’t forewarned Bonnie, I also had to get a post written.

Conundrum.

I still had no clue what to write about. In fact, I’d been having difficulty putting two words together in coherent thought since I was told the oldest of our brothers had passed away. Keep in mind that while he is the oldest boy, he isn’t the oldest child. He’s younger than all three of us sisters (me, Bonnie, and our older sister).

So, with my thoughts fully on my brother, I suppose he will be the topic today.

One of my clearest memories of him was when I was eight and out in our front yard playing. When to my astonishment Bryon came riding down the street on our mother’s bike.

This was a full-sized women’s bike and Bryon was at most 7-years-old, and he wasn’t big for his age. He couldn’t even reach the pedals if he was sitting on the seat at its lowest position. So instead of trying to ride it while sitting, he was standing on the pedals while he rode around.

It blew me away. He was the youngest of us and the first one to figure out balancing on a bike. Over the next four years, both Bonnie and Jacki learned how to ride, but I was simply not confident enough to balance one. I always lost my balance within a few feet.

When I was twelve, with a bunch of our friends over to ride bikes around the parking lot outside the apartment we lived in, Bryon convinced me to get on our mother’s bike and try just one more time.

I was very reluctant, but he promised me he’d ride beside me and keep ahold of the seat, so I didn’t tip over.

Admonishing him to not let go, I set off, periodically glancing to my side to be sure he was still beside me. Because of our positions, I couldn’t see if he was still holding me up or not but assumed so since I was not tipping at all.

Then he suddenly rode off, swinging around right in front of me. I yelled, even berating him for not holding on.

His response? “What are you yelling at me for? You’re riding, aren’t you?”

I looked down. I had not wobbled in the least and was still pedaling along nicely. Without hesitation, I then did a crazy eight. My brother had tricked me into figuring out I could balance a bike.

I have plenty of other stories, particularly about how spoiled our little brother was, but I also have some about the man he grew to be.

When we were adults and married, Bryon and I ended up living in the same apartment complex. Being the nearest family member, I often called on him and his wife when I needed help with something. Early one morning I needed help.

It could not have been 5 in the morning when Tina fell out of bed and cut open the bottom of her chin. I was certain she’d need to be seen so I called Bryon.

He wanted me to take her to his place, but I pointed out her three sleeping siblings and the fact that Jerry had left for work not long before she fell out of bed.

He also had three sleeping kids, so he moaned and came over. After checking her chin, he ended up taking her to the ER with a note from me saying he could seek medical care for her.

Years later she was attending college in the same area where he lived and found herself in immediate need of a ride. Bryon dropped everything to head over to pick her up though our sister-in-law beat him there.

However, only a few months later I had reason to believe she again needed help and called Bryon in a bit of a panic. He didn’t hesitate. He dropped everything and rushed right over to her and stayed with her while he was still needed.

These are the things Tina remembers about her Uncle Bryon. The one uncle who would drop everything to help her when she needed it. She is already missing him.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day. Our family could use it.