Writing About Birthdays by Bonnie Le Hamilton

Today I am remembering my birthday. And there are so many birthdays to remember.

Way back in 1976, I was in the summer band. My band class always met on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That year the 5^th fell on Monday. Everyone in the clarinet section knew this.

I can still picture the look of utter confusion on our band leader’s face at the end of the parade right after he announced there would be no band classes on Monday. And it must have been really confusing because every other section cheered except the clarinet section. All but one of the girls snapped their fingers and stomped their feet in the classic, “uh shoot!” expression while one girl dang near collapsed to the ground in utter relief, and the lone boy in the section just stood there unfazed.

I was the one sighing with relief. And believe me, until he announced no classes on Monday, I was seriously considering skipping class that Monday, because all those girls were planning to ambush me so all of them, could spank me fourteen times and each give me a pinch to grow an inch. I even know why they were planning to do it.

I had done the very unwise thing of mentioning I hadn’t received any birthday spankings in years, let alone a pinch to grow an inch.

Considering how short I am, that was very stupid of me to mention. I was the oldest, and shortest, kid in our band. All the kids in the clarinet section knew this, and they were prepared to make sure I got all those pinches in order for me to grow at least an inch.

I tried to tell them I didn’t think that old myth would work, but they wouldn’t listen, and I wasn’t about to endure their attack just to prove it didn’t work.

Thankfully I didn’t have to.

Though I think Konnie will agree with me when I say our worst birthday is still our 6th birthday, and that’s surpassing last year when I had COVID or the year before when she had COVID, or back in ’88 because I was stuck at home waiting for my husband to get off watch to come home and give my present which was in the trunk of our car, when our dad called, and, without preamble, announced, “He’s taller than you.”

Not fun, but still not as horrible as opening two of everything on our 6^th birthday.

How do you feel about birthdays? Do you have a worst one?

For that matter, how do your characters feel about their birthdays?

Some families have traditions that only make a fuss over the birthdays of the children, never the adults, who are lucky to get a card, and simple well wishes. While others don’t celebrate birthdays at all.

What sort of birthday traditions do you have? What sort of birthday traditions do your characters have?

I honestly don’t know for most of my characters, though for most of them, their birthdays don’t occur during the story, so that isn’t too bad that I don’t know. I do know for one character that her father (who raised her) didn’t pay attention to birthdays at all, but I know that because the story starts on her birthday, and she doesn’t realize it until she sees a calendar noting the date.

I have another character who probably didn’t have birthday celebrations at all, just not sure about her. I know they didn’t celebrate Christmas in her family. And no, they were not Jewish or any known religion that doesn’t celebrate Christmas. Her stepfather was more like a cult leader, but it was a very small cult.

I do have one story where the birthdays of several characters are mentioned and celebrated, but I really don’t have the main characters feeling about their birthdays except for the one depicted in the story in which her father ruined everything. Can’t help but know her feelings when she’s bawling her eyes out.

And one (in an unfinished story) who hates her birthday because for all the ones she could remember, something tragic happened to her on her birthday. I have a scene where she doesn’t want to live through another birthday.

The thing is everyone views their birthday differently, depending on their family traditions and or traumatic past.

Konnie and I could hate our birthdays because of the events on our 6^th birthday, but well, bad things did happen, but they could have happened on any other day, it was just made worse, and notable because it was our birthday.

Some people avoid even mentioning their birthday because of their traumatic past, while others look forward to theirs and make sure everyone knows when it is.

Anyway, happy writing everyone!  

Of Editing and Re-writing by Konnie Enos

Last week Bonnie wrote about her editing woes. Specifically about all the backtracking she’s had to do to fix the timeline, and plot holes. She also mentioned discovering that my copy of book 4 in my sci-fi series started with well over a hundred pages of scenes that were now in book 3.

What she failed to notice is that I had decided to end book three at a much later point than it had originally ended. Meaning, I’d copied those pages and pasted them into book 3, where I intended to keep them. The issue was, I hadn’t removed them from book 4 yet. Mostly because I was still working on edits to book 1.

However, when she mentioned the issue it’d been long enough since I’d done that for me to forget I had. Though I did remember while I was checking those files for myself. And doing that got me back into working on the edits to my books.

I quickly breezed through book 1, which I had mostly edited already anyway. Then I worked on book 2. It took a bit longer because I hadn’t done as much editing on it previously. Then I started book 3. It needed a bit more work. But with some effort, I finally got through it.

Now at this point, what I have for books 4 and 5 isn’t enough to cover two books, but more than I need for one. Also, what I have for book 5 (both title and content) is not in keeping with the theme/pattern of the previous ones.

Though the biggest issue is the reason I ended book 3 at a different spot. I wanted the story to be a better match for the title, therefore ending in a different spot was needed. This also means that book 4 must end at a different spot.

The other issue I have with both books 4 and 5 is that since I last worked on them, I’ve added aliens and languages, not to mention other details. I’ve even changed some scenes. So both books are going to be more work.

Book five is going to be the most work because of the changes in content, plus needing more material to fill the novel. Different beginning and slightly different ending.

Now, however, I have an issue. I have seven POV characters in my sci-fi but each book has a main focus on one or two of them. (Book 1 is Hero and Heroine 1, book 2 is Hero and Heroine 2, and books three, four, and five are Hero 3, 4, and 5 respectively.)

I’ve also written prologues for books 1 through 4 but I still need one for book 5. However, I’m unsure how to go about it. Each of the four prologues is in the POV of one of the heroes. Book 1 is about Hero and Heroine 1 and the prologue is in the POV of Hero 2. Book 2 is the same, just switched the POVs. Book three is about Hero 3 with a prologue in Hero 4’s POV. Again, Book 4 is switched POVs. All of these prologues are set several years in the past. I don’t have a counterpoint POV character to provide that glimpse of the past for Hero 5. It should be interesting to come up with his prologue.

The other issue she pointed out in her blog was all the backtracking she had to do to fix plot holes and other discrepancies.

Yes, I’ve been doing a lot of that.

Either that or I’ll have to backtrack to check what I have written previously. So I don’t contradict myself. Like saying where an office is in book one, then putting it in a completely different place in book three. I changed book one only to later realize I needed that office where book 1 originally said. So backtrack again and change both book 1 and book 3 so they will match book 4. Yes, that was a bit complicated.

But I think the really fun part is when I realized I’d changed at least one scene in book 3 to take out Hero 5. However, I need the deleted content for scenes I need to add later in the story (book 4 or 5). I went looking for the previous version with Hero 5 still in it. I could not find it.

It wasn’t in previous versions of book 3. I panicked, looking everywhere I could think of for the old files of book 3. It took searching through several more files before it sank into my panicked brain as to why I couldn’t find it.

I’d moved several scenes from book 4 to book 3!

I found it.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day. 

Editing Woes by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Sometimes I hate editing. I’ve been working on my epic sci-fi, which is nowhere near finished, trying to at least finish the first book. My problem is while adding more detail to the story, I keep thinking of things I should have shown earlier, or other things that really should be addressed at an earlier spot, and in one case, wasn’t addressed and should have been.

Yeah, I have been doing a lot of backtracking.

At one point, last week I told Konnie I had finished my edits up through chapter fifteen and had started on chapter sixteen, which was true, at the time. I honestly thought when I said it that I was finally making headway. Well, that was last week, for the last two days I’ve been realizing there is a major plot hole in the second scene (the unaddressed issue), and that I hadn’t dealt with a couple of other matters as entirely as I had originally planned.

This means I have to go back and start from the very beginning of chapter one to find all the possible places to fix these problems!

I guess I should count myself lucky that there are no errors with my prologue which is basically a fable or myth about the “creation” of their solar system. That is in fine shape.

The story itself is great, it's just getting all the details in, and correct.

But this is why I hate editing. I do this all the time, I think I’ve got a section done and move on, then, usually right when I’m writing some other detail, I end up going, “Wait a minute!”

I’ve mentioned before the one step forward, two steps back kind of event, but at this rate, I’ll never finish the series. I’m lucky if I’ll finish the first book!

And I have this major issue with writing things out of order, for the life of me, if I write a scene out of order, I’m pretty much done with the story, I can’t seem to go back and fill the missing sections. Ergo, I can’t move to another book until this book is finished, and I mean, done editing.

Not that I can move forward that much, because as of yet, the twin brother of the hero in book one isn’t talking to me, and I kind of need his POV for most of the rest of the series because he’s vital to the conclusion.

It’s not like he isn’t mentioned already, he just doesn’t make his appearance, yet, unless you count pictures and holographs of him, or the fact that they are identical twins, and the hero has gone searching for his missing twin.

Plus, that doesn’t even get into the fact that last week I was rereading it and realized that the second scene I had happened well before the first scene I had, so in essence, the second scene with the plot hole used to be the first scene.

Okay, yeah that’s something I wrote out of order, but I have to point out that this epic sci-fi started out as a writing prompt I did for a workshop some years ago. It was the beginning of the first paragraph that used to be the first scene. When I submitted that prompt, everyone in the group really liked it and wanted more.

This was right before Nano, so instead of expanding right away, I wrote down some plot points, made a list of characters (a semblance of an outline, if you will), and waited for November first. When Nano started, I fleshed out what had been the first scene, then wrote what had been the second scene to finally bring in the hero of this part of the story.

That has to be the first time ever I’ve written anything out of sequence and still managed to keep going. I promise it usually doesn’t work like that for me, I can show you tons of partial stories with one scene written out of sequence and, even after all this time, I have been unable to fill in the blank. I have tried a time or two, but no go. I do have one where I managed to fill in a little, but not all.

And this is why I hate editing. It’s so annoying to think I’ve finished something and then to have it dawn on me that I haven’t.

Konnie certainly knows how I feel, she’s been editing too. On her epic sci-fi even. But I got her back on that when I informed her, I couldn’t find the fourth book of that series among our shared files. What I did find was a repeat of book three under the file name of book four.

Isn’t editing fun?

Happy writing everyone!

Of Procrastination and Sleep by Konnie Enos

Last night I mentioned to Tony that it was my turn to do the post for our blog. He then commented on my tendency to procrastinate and that studies have shown people who procrastinate tend to come up with the most creative ideas.

I’m not sure that’s true but I do procrastinate a lot of things. Even when I think I have a great idea for my next post, I generally don’t even start writing it before Tuesday night. Lately, it’s been Wednesday morning.

And it’s not like I’m busy.

I spend most of my days sitting on my bed on my tech. Generally, I spend a few hours each morning doing some mind-challenging games (like Sudoku) or getting lost down the rabbit hole of social media. In the afternoon I’ll either read (lately that’s been Kindle books) or watch something with the occasional dive into making sure all our bills are paid and we have enough left over to cover groceries and gas until we get more money. I could also spend hours on end working on one of my WIPS. Once I get started I don’t stop until it’s very late. Usually, really late.

I don’t know if my issue is daylight or activity, though I’d guess activity because I have slept during the day. I am not in the habit of sleeping when I can hear other people up and about.

And that thought just made me realize what the real issue could be.

Around the time the sun comes up each day, the dogs want attention, if only to go out back and relieve themselves and Melinda starts her day. Jerry does too. Neither of them is loud, but I can hear them.

Melinda doesn’t talk much, but I can hear her moving about the house. From skipping up and down the hall to doing her daily chores, there are always some sounds to indicate she is up and about.

Jerry tends to be quieter. If he is in the bedroom, he’s at his desk, has headphones on, and does not move about, much. I can tell he is there without looking because his jittering and fidgeting have his old chair doing a lot of squeaking. One of these days, I’ll get up enough nerve to throw that thing away. Either that or he is constantly going in and out the door. Since he usually does this to check up on his Akita I’ll also hear him opening and closing the gate to the dog run. (The gate is by my bedroom window.)

By midday, Jerry will take a nap, or find something to do outside of the house. Melinda will spend time very quietly browsing the internet, reading a book, or taking a nap if she doesn’t feel well. But by then I’m engrossed in something or the boys have woken up for the day.

Conversations are the biggest indicator the boys are up, or the distinct sounds of Royce running up and down the backyard. Considering it’s rare for my children to hear me when I call for help if they aren’t in the hallway, I’m often amazed that I can pick up their conversations when they are in the front room. Hearing Royce is much easier since he is running right outside my bedroom window.

Now, when Melinda goes to bed at night, we do turn out all the lights and anyone still awake tries to be quieter which would be conducive to getting some sleep myself, especially since the sun is also down by then, but somehow I never do.

Sometimes I’m balancing a checkbook and need to hunt down some discrepancy or another. Most of the time I am right in the middle of reading, writing, or editing something and I want to at least get to a good stopping point.

I think we’ve all been there. A good stopping point is the end of the chapter (or scene) but when we reach it, we’re so into the story that we simply continue until we realize how late it is. Then we’ll chide ourselves to go to bed at the end of the chapter only to forget again when we reach it.

It’s not unusual for me to notice that it is all but morning again and force myself to close my laptop and get some sleep. Then when morning comes I spend the day with a headache because it wasn’t nearly enough sleep.

This all means that I feel like I’m not getting enough sleep. Or more accurately, I’m not getting enough sleep. But on the plus side, procrastinating does seem to help me come up with ideas for my posts, and I can type fast enough to get them ready before our deadline.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day. 

Of Birthdays and Memories by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Yesterday was my sister’s-in-law birthday, but due to her being out camping with her big sister and brother-in-law, I celebrated with her this past Saturday. While we were chatting over lunch, I mentioned something about needing to get Konnie her birthday gift to her, before I forgot.

Well, Shirley (said sister-in-law) started to say something then berated herself, saying, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

I frowned and asked her what was going on and she looked at me and said, “I was about to ask when Konnie’s birthday is.”

Let me point out that a few years ago Konnie came up here to celebrate our birthday with me and Shirley, her big sister (Vera-Ellen), and Vera-Ellen’s husband and daughter, threw the two of us a birthday party. On the other hand, Shirley does have Alzheimer’s and I found it pretty good that she remembered that she did know when Konnie’s birthday is before she actually got the question out.

Now if it had been Vera-Ellen or any of her family, I’d have questioned their sanity, but Shirley? The one who writes shopping lists then leaves them at home and tries to get her shopping done without one. Only to forget the two most important things on her list. Necessitating a second trip to the store, for which I am the chauffeur.

I will admit, I’m not sure all my in-laws know when my birthday is, even if they all know I’m a twin. However, Shirley, Vera-Ellen, and Vera-Ellen’s husband and daughter do know. Well, at least Shirley knows when she remembers.

Vera-Ellen and her family don’t have that excuse.

The rest of the family, well, I’m not even sure when all their birthdays are. Tom was always very vague about when their birthdays were, nor did he ever make any effort to call his siblings on their birthdays. Today, I know some of their birthdays simply because I’m friends with them on Facebook, and I really should write them down, since Facebook only reminds me the day of their birthday.

I kind of need a little more notice than that if I’m going to send them something if I remember and have the money for it. Having money to send something would be the issue. I’m lucky if I have money to buy something.

Though it did penetrate my thick skull this year that Konnie’s youngest was born on the birthday of one of my brothers-in-law. Why I didn’t notice before, I have no idea. But I could swear, this year is the only year Facebook notified me of both birthdays, which of course doesn’t make sense. Clearly what is at issue here is my thick, or scattered, brain rather than Facebook messing up.

At any rate, I can now tell you the birthdays of all three of Tom’s sisters, and the one brother. So, I am getting closer to knowing them. Took me long enough. The only trouble is I learned when the birthdays of two of his sisters before we were even married.

His sister Bonnie was born a day shy of his first birthday, and the oldest of my brothers was born on his 5th birthday, which makes it easy. And Vera-Ellen was born on August 22, the year before him. Those three came in such quick succession that his family always celebrated all three birthdays on the birthday in the middle, Tom’s. He complained about that when we first started dating.

I listened to his complaints without a word, when he finished, I said, “Yeah, I know what’s like to have to share your birthday; I’ve been doing it my whole life too.”

He responded, “Oh brother, I’m complaining to the wrong person.”

“Ya think?”

I have always shared my birthday with Konnie. I can think of one year when we had separate parties simply because she still preferred an all-girls slumber party, and I wanted a party, with guys, gals, and music.

Which didn’t go over so great. Let’s just say, I also hate having a birthday so close to a major national holiday. It never fails that come our birthday, everyone, or almost everyone, is still out of town with their family.

Konnie had picked the week after our birthday for her party; they turned out for Konnie’s party and didn’t bother to RSVP for mine.

No one did. So, I planned on everyone I invited coming and had a ton of leftovers. Not a fun night to say the least.

Though maybe I should work that disaster into a story someday.

Anyway, happy writing everyone, I’m off to do more editing on my sci-fi!

Of Phones and Wake up Calls by Konnie Enos

Fifty years ago, every house had at least one face clock, usually in the kitchen. It wasn’t uncommon for one to be in a bedroom or two. Though the new thing was digital display clocks. Most of these were found in bedroom alarm clocks.

Thirty years ago, face clocks were less common but you could still find them. It was still commonplace to have several in your home. Checking the time was never more difficult than glancing at the nearest clock.

Yesterday, it dawned on me just how much things had changed when not once, but twice, I wanted to know the time or at least where my phone was.

Both times in my dimly lit bedroom, on my bed, with dark or black blankets it was more than a little difficult to figure out where my black phone had gotten to.

Both times I looked at all the usual places. Where I generally put it. Where I could last remember seeing it. Everywhere within arm’s reach of where I was sitting. As a last resort, I even checked my purse because I sometimes put it in there so it won’t get lost.

Not that it works. My purse is black too. And sometimes I have to dump it out to find anything as small as my phone in it. However, yesterday my phone was never in my purse.

I could not find it anywhere on my nightstand or even the last place I saw it. The last time I couldn’t find it I was tempted to go check the hall bathroom because I’d been texting Bonnie when I had to go and I’d taken my phone with me and that was the last place I could remember having it. Since I could not find it, yet again, I wondered if I could have left it in there.

So I started searching everywhere with no luck.

At this point, I considered who could help me locate my phone and the easiest way to do it. Well, calling a phone is a sure-fire way to hear where it is and I’m fortunate to have five other people in my house all with their own phones.

So the next step is to locate the nearest person and ask them to call me.

Mind you, I’m in my bedroom. Guess who the nearest person is, both times.

Yep, my all-but-deaf husband. Not that he’s completely deaf, and he does have hearing aids, but that even if he has remembered to put them in, he is likely to be listening to something on one of his devices, especially when he is sitting at his desk. Of course, he is doing both times I’m looking.

So after taking a minute or two to get his attention, I had to wait further for him to turn off whatever he was listening to, get his phone, and dial me.

Now this would normally solve the problem, but both times I could hear my phone ringing from somewhere on my bed to my right. Both times it was buried enough to muffle the sounds a little.

So I had to start moving things hoping to at least unmuffle it so I could better home in on the sound.

Okay, so move my purse and whatever else I have to my right.

It’s not much help, I moved the blankets, again. All that did was unmuffle it. The next step is to shake them out but before I even get that far I finally manage to see my phone.

On Jerry’s side of the bed.

I’m going to have to assume that at some point in my search I’d tossed it over there while moving the blankets it’d been on because that is the only logical reason for my phone to be that far outside my reach.

The second time this happened, I wasn’t looking for the time, but wondering if my phone would need to be charged while I was sleeping. It was that late and I knew I still needed to write my post. Meaning, I would need my phone charged and near me so I’d hear my alarm in the morning so I’d have plenty of time to get this written.

With it found, I promptly got ready for bed. I was hoping for at least seven hours. By some miracle, my bladder didn’t wake me up until after the sun was up though a full hour before my alarm was to go off. I’d written about half this post before my alarm went off.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Apologizes by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I would like to apologize to everyone I have ever politely asked for assistance in reaching things in a store which, due to my obvious vertical challenges, I was unable to acquire on my own.

In my defense I’d like to point out that I was entirely unaware that some delusional person witnessed your act of kindness and compassion, and in her mind that meant you were some pion who had to accede to her demands, no matter what.

I have since come across some stories on YouTube about these misguided individuals who seem to feel they have every right to whatever service or property they want and everyone else in their universe is rude to deny them, no matter how inconsiderate and condescending they are.

I’d particularly like to apologize to the gentleman who was shopping in Walmart with his significant other and I politely asked him if he would mind getting down a bag of cat food I needed for my dear Patches. At the time, I could see no other people around other than the three of us, and I greatly appreciated his kindness. I am however vexed to think to some women that the internet is calling a Karen witnessed this kindness and insisted he serve her as well.

Since my husband’s death, I have frequently found myself in a position where I can not reach something I need, and knowing it is such an imposition, I have always said, “Excuse me, but could you help me?” And when you have done so I’ve thanked you profusely for being so kind. I have no idea why any other person witnessing this exchange would decide you were some sort of slave.

It is totally beyond my comprehension.

Of course, it is totally beyond my comprehension that there are people in this world who think people working in the service industry are their personal slaves! How delusional can you get? I mean, in what universe are service industry workers mere slaves there to accede to every demand anyone else makes?

Service industry workers are human beings just as much as the next person and therefore deserve just as much respect and consideration.

However, I find whenever I politely ask such service personnel, who clearly work at the establishment I am shopping in by their accouterments with their name and or the store logo somewhere on their person, for assistance. They are always so pleasantly surprised that I would address them with respect. And even more surprised when I thank them for their assistance.

I might add that I am intelligent enough to recognize when I am addressing a fellow customer that happens to be nearby and when I am approaching someone who does work at the store.

And for the life of me, I can not understand how some people can’t tell the difference between staff uniforms and regular everyday wear of your average individual. It boggles my mind that some people are so unaware that they cannot tell the difference between a vest festooned with patches and medals and a vest adorned with the company logo.

But clearly, such a person exists because I heard a story on YouTube where a woman assaulted a handicapped man and stole his walker so her daughter who had a walking cast on could use his supposed wheelchair. And her reason for her to assume he was an employee was he was wearing a blue vest. A blue vest festooned with his medals and military patches from his service days, rather than a blue vest with the word Walmart on it!

I mean this woman was so delusional as to think that an elderly man depending on a walker to get into the store was an employee with a wheelchair that she absolutely had to have for her daughter.

In the story, I heard this woman went so far as to complain to store management about how hard it was to steer what she thought was a wheelchair since the handles were not on the back of the thing. No Duh! It’s a walker, not a wheelchair.

She also refused to believe she was guilty of assault and theft for attacking this poor man and taking his walker, his walker with his wallet in the bag under the seat.

Admittedly, she didn’t know about that little bag, but she did take the gentleman’s personal property by force. What did she expect? Oh, I forgot, she expected him to be fired from a job he didn’t have!

But at least delusional people like this make great fodder for all of us writers to entertain the rest of the world with!

Happy writing everyone!

And again, I am sorry for accidentally subjecting you to this kind of person!