Happy Halloween!

Top 5 reasons to love St. George in October.

1. Warm weather! After missing out on the sunny skies last weekend due to a video project that came up, I was rewarded with great weather for the last weekend of the month. It worked out perfectly since Eric was playing baseball all weekend.

2. Palm trees. Life can't be too bad, when you've got palm trees right outside the hotel room door.

3. Kneaders! Need I say more? The boys were treated to their first Kneaders soups and sandwiches. YUM!

4. 50% on Saturday nights at Kneaders. Yes, we returned for dinner here on the second night. I asked the cashier if he'd rung up the bill wrong, because it seemed way too low.... but surprise, surprise! It was 50% off! We immediately ordered seconds on dessert.

5. Finding a reason NOT to give up chocolate. ...At least, Kneader's chocolate.... After giving up beer and then coffee this year, I thought I might be ready to add chocolate to the list. But then I had one of those chocolate mint brownies from Kneaders. My son had ordered it, and I tasted it--reluctantly, because I wasn't sure I'd like it. Wham! I was wrong. Now I know what heavenly chocolate should taste like. And the timing couldn't be better, because all those Hershey's treats waiting to be given out at the door tonight definitely don't measures up. Woot!

6. Okay, so I know I was only going to give 5 reasons to like St. George, but here's another: scary movies to entertain us at night in the hotel room. Tis the season.

Trick or Treat!
Happy Halloween!

On Setting, as it relates to: Living, Loving New Hampshire Again

My summer vacation with the kids was truly incredible. It was wonderful to connect with family and friends. The days were so full of sunshine, sailing, boating, fishing, and swimming, it was amazing to think I actually found time to sit back and relax in one place from time to time and simply enjoy the scenery.

Yet, even in those quiet moments, I was reminded of how when we settle down and be still, the world continues to move and breathe and fill in all the spaces around us with some form of energy, however subtle that may be.

The same can be said for writing, or more specifically, for writing about settings. (Yes, I always try to connect my posts to the subject). In a previous post, I said that a story is lost without a sense of setting. However, a setting is not simply colors and temperatures and textures and sounds. It's not enough to say, "The ridge was lined with green trees."

It's important that the setting be layered with a sense of movement, or energy.

Avi begins The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle with a setting that moves with the character:

Just before dusk in the late afternoon of June 16, 1832, I found myself walking along the crowded docks of Liverpool, England, following a man by the name of Grummage.


In Drowning Ruth, Christina Schwarz's setting seems nearly alive:

Lakes were scattered all over this part of the country, their outlines different, but their innards just the same. They were drops and drips and splashes on the land. They were holes and craters lined with skin too thin to hold back the springs that rushed to fill them, and most of them were dotted here and there with stubborn little islands, knobs of land that refused to dip their heads under water.


Good stories are written with settings that carry their own form of action, their own essense of life. In the real world, in nature, we become unsettled when something goes wrong, when the world becomes suddenly still--like the calm before the storm, causing us to stop, step back, and wonder what has happened.

Likewise, a reader can be thrown out of a story, or become disengaged, when the setting is too quiet, or too stark, or too absent (unless that in itself is part of the storyline). If too much is missing, if the reader doesn't become connected with a living world inside a book--one that moves and pulses with energy--then the reader isn't likely to stay too long. They'll wonder what is wrong, and perhaps, if they can't connect on a personal level with the character, they may walk away and connect with the energy of another.

I'm happy to say, my vacation, with all the combined energies of the quiet and action-packed moments, was far too hard to walk away from. But it's one that I can relive in the memories again and again.

Dear Santa, ...



Living, Loving New Hampshire

I've been back in Utah for a while now, land-locked, but adjusting to life without Lake Winnipesaukee out the back door. The week in New Hampshire was finished off with a few more "firsts."

First time handling the sailboat in strong wind for a couple hours without handing the reins over to dad.

First time water-skiing for daughter (woot!)

First time attending church on Bear Island--yes, we had to get there by boat, then hike the half mile to the church at the top of the hill.

First time water-skiing back home from church.

First time I actually considered the merits of lake-front property in the form of a rock. A rather large, unoccupied rock that sat on the wooded lakeshore. Any other rock in any other old place might not have value, but this one, I'm guessing is special.... It has a view. It offers a solid foundation for a house. It probably is available. The only problem is, it probably won't be mine unless I can dig up a sweet mill or two. You see, rocks--particularly those lakeside, or even within the lake, are prime real estate. Plenty of houses have been built on rock, like this one that happens to be its own island.... I'd like that. Some fine day.... Heck, if I had my rock, I'd be happy with a hammock--two poles sunk in the granite with a net strung between them. That'd be enough for me. For a while anyway. With a boat moored off-shore a wee bit away.

It's amazing that after going to the lake for so many years, I can still find so many firsts to experience.

As for the rest of summer, it's back to tackling projects--finishing up some old ones (hoping to get those manuscripts out the door) and jumping into some new ones. Haven't had much time to fish lately, but maybe I'll find a bit of time on the rafting trip next week that my school administrators are hosting. Idaho! Here we come! Sorry, kids, I think you'll enjoy a day of school without us. The sacrafices teachers have to make every now and then.....

Happy days!

New experiences

Vacation has been absolutely incredible. The weather is perfect and events of the past week so far have proved that we're never too old to experience new things. Some of my "firsts" are:

-- seeing five loons swimming on the lake together in front of our cabin

-- watching a big turtle climb up on the deck at the back of a boat to sun himself

-- taking a ride on dad's new sailboat....awesome! Love it.

-- finding out I really do know how to sail a boat, despite the doubts of all my years

-- witnessing the look on dad's face as my daughter cast his new rod and reel into the lake after he'd just taught her how to use it.... the only thing he forgot to tell her was "to hold onto the rod"...

-- fileting first pair of fishes, thanks to the idea of sons who want to eat what they catch

We'll see what the rest of the week brings us.

Survivor!

Yes, I survived. Or, rather, we. My daughter and I, when we rode the Big Shot on top of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas last weekend.

We were there for the Las Vegas Mayor's Cup soccer tournament that her team was playing in, and a friend had suggested we take that ride on the Big Shot, or at least get to the top of the Strat for the view. Lucky for us, these plans became part of the team's agenda for Saturday night, since they didn't have an early game scheduled for Sunday morning.


But as the captured Kodak-moment shows, even 4Gs of being shot 160 feet upward at 45 miles an hour isn't quite enough to zap my brain into motion. It took more than a few moments for me to realize, that yes, we were indeed moving, possibly and quite quickly, toward death. And by the time I was in full comprehension of my experience--that I may not survive--the zero-G's bestowed on us as we plummeted back downward kept me from vocalizing any of the sheer terror I felt in comprehending that there really was NO WAY off until it was over.

But of course, once it was done, I kind of wished I could do it a second time. And maybe a third.... What's up with that?

All in all, getting away to Las Vegas was great. The sun was warm enough to kiss my skin, the soccer games well-played and enjoyable to watch, the watershow at the Bellagio perfectly timed to impress upon my teenage daughter that I really might have clue as to what we were doing as we toured the strip, and the singing bus driver on route to the terminal was fabulous enough to end the weekend with a smile. Although the singing vacuum cleaner--i.e., the fellow who was riding a motorized vacuum cleaner at the SLC airport while singing Kumbaya upon our return--left me a bit perplexed over the intricacies of human nature.


As for daily life, the sun and warm weather have returned for at least a few more days in northern Utah before the snow truly starts to fly for good. Although I like to ski, here's hoping the sun will stick around for a little while longer.

Breaking the Block, and another Happy New Year

I'm back, having survived travel through the holidays...yes, I was one of those stranded Christmas-time travelers, eyes searching the arrival and departure screens in three different airports, no less, for some small sliver of hope that I would 1) make it to my destination with 3 kids and in tow, and then 2), while repeating the whole episode again upon my return trip, really did not need to buy my own personal airplane to get home.

The highlight of the trip had to be when we were stranded in Minneapolis on our first leg out of Salt Lake. After checking into our hotel, with a whole day and night ahead of us, we hopped on the free shuttle to the Mall of America. My son, after having fallen in love with our room at Embassy Suites--with its two tvs and pool and great-glass-elevator and an upcoming happy-hour of free popcorn and soda, said, "This is going to be the best trip ever! It's like two trips in one!"

Yes, kids are awesome. And in a way, he was right. They loved the tunneled aquarium at the Mall, swimming at the pool, going up and down the great-glass-elevator all night, and drinking as much soda as they wanted for free while being surrounded by an indoor rainforest.

All this helped carry us through the next day, when we faced a couple more set-backs in Detroit.

Having gone through all that, I'm probably the only person on the planet, who after having suffered the inconveniences of cancelled flights on our way to NH, complained when I found I was booked in first class for our return flights to apparently make up for it. I complained--althougth not too loudly--because I'd be separated from my kids, who were flying coach. I can't fault the airlines, since it was an easy oversight. We'd booked our itineary on two different tickets -- with the kids' tickets bought via frequent flyer miles, and mine, via regular cash, so to speak.

Oh well, I didn't complain long, mind you. I figured the kids would be fine back in coach without me, being the seasoned travelers that they are...and as it turned out, they were... so those extra-big seats and comfy footrests were all worth it in the end.

Despite the setbacks, it was a fantastic holiday season. We reconnected with family, ate great food, got plenty of rest, plenty of play on the slopes, and enjoyed lots of fresh snow on both sides of the country. It seemed to follow us wherever we went, giving fresh new meaning to "White Christmas."

Perhaps the best present I got from Santa was one I hadn't expected, but one I very much needed--a break from this writer's block I'd been suffering. Yes, it happened to me, for most of the last half of 2008. And I was embarrassed by it. I didn't want anyone to know. I mean, as far as progress, I probably couldn't do any worse as a writer, because this is how my most of my days went:

Write. Delete. Write. Delete. Repeat.

I figure I wrote and deleted close to 50,000 words. I'd get to an end of a scene or chapter, and decide, "no, my character wouldn't say/do that. What's the point?" And I'd beat my head, decide what I'd written was crap, and walk away.

By December, I decided I'd had enough. No more. And I unplugged my laptop, hid it under some papers, and stopped thinking about that darned MG that was literally going to make me crazy if I didn't give it a rest.

I didn't think about it for a month. I needed a vacation, and I was going to enjoy the one I had with my kids and without the disappointments that writing was bound to bring if I dared pick up a pen.

Unbeknownst to me, Santa left something for me under the tree. And it wasn't anything that came wrapped. It was intangible, but definitely something I could feel.... it was a pull, a steady tug, luring me back to the computer. My story was finally ready to be told, or at least another part of it.

Last week, with the kids back in school, I sat back down to work again. For the first time in a long time, I was excited--eggcited, as my daughter used to say-- about the prospect. Giddy, even. And turned out, I had the best week ever. 25 solid pages of text added to my novel. Headway. At last!

Thank God, the BLOCK is over. On the bright side, I like to tell myself, that after having gone through all the things my characters would not have said and done, I finally know what they will.

And I can't wait to work it all out. Till the end.

So having gone through this, I have a question. Your answers might be helpful to me and others who have experienced this, or who may be going through it now. ... What have you done to break writer's block?

Happy New Year, Everyone!