What Happens Between the Beginning and End

I don’t think I’m unlike most writers. I typically start with a great beginning and a good idea as to how I want things to end. It’s filling in all that middle stuff that drives me nuts.

For instance, I have an idea for a story about a woman who acts out her dreams. She ultimately starts having a recurring dream about being stalked by a man who wants her dead. During one of those dreams she takes a letter opener (conveniently located on her bedside table) and stabs her sleeping husband to death. Then, there’s a trial and her lawyer tries to convince the jury she’s not guilty of murdering her husband – that she was acting in self defense against a crazy man who just happened not to be real. I won’t tell you the outcome (yes, I’ve thought that through) but I just can’t get started nor can I figure out how to get from A to B.

OK – you try filling in all the other stuff. It’s hard. It makes my head hurt. Maybe I don’t have the patience. Probably. I tend to want things done NOW. It’s amazing I can even get through a story at all without skipping to the end to find out what happens. Reading “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” nearly killed me. It’s long. Really long. My granddaughter had no problem, though. She’s 8, she doesn’t yet know what it feels like when life is like a roll of toilet paper – the closer you get to the end of the roll, the faster the sheets fly by. That’s how it is after 50 (or half-way to dead, as my husband puts it). Oh, to have 90% of my life still ahead of me – maybe then I could come up with that middle stuff.

Character Development

When thinking about writing a story, one of the things I’ve always found difficult is the “fleshing out” of the characters I’m trying to write about. I have to admit, it’s much easier if I don’t have to do that at all. If I’m writing about myself and what I do to get a story idea I don’t need to make up anything – I just write about what’s happening at the moment, a no-brainer! Plus, I’m not very complex – what you see is what you get and if you don’t like what you get, then don’t look. Right? Totally!

Maybe you should know a few things about who I am now. Though no longer the “I’ll show you my boobs for a dime” kid, I have retained my tomboyishness (whoa – the spell checker hates that word) and my softball throw distance record STILL stands at my old high school. That’s way cool! My sport of choice now is tennis.

Speaking of that, one of my greatest lessons as a kid was when my best friend and I were going to play some tennis and my dad told us he used to play. We sort of snickered at him, thinking, “Sure, old man, whatever.” He offered to hit with us and we laughed and said “OK” thinking he wouldn’t stand a chance. We couldn’t return his serves. We were humiliated. We never spoke of it again (sorry Laura, I’ve spilled the beans on this page and I hope you can forgive me!).

Tennis is a fabulous sport. I think, if he were alive today, my dad would be proud of how well I play now – so much better than when I was that smart-alack kid daring him to step on the court. I’ve passed my passion on to my son and am trying to pass it along to my grandkids. Not sure it’s working, though. My granddaughter said to me the other day, “Grammy, I just don’t get it.” Sigh. Maybe some day she’ll discover just how gratifying it is to smash an overhead for the winning set point but, for now, she’s oblivious. She’d rather read. That’s not bad, either.

Tossing Around Some Ideas

OK – so I’ve finally committed to writing this confounded thing. I have to admit, before I decided to write this blog I agonized about the topics. Most authorities say you should write about what you know….well, I know about wondering what to write about – does that count? I think so, thus, these posts that came about as a result of not knowing what else to tackle. Hey, everyone has a blog these days, why not me!!!???!

Certainly, I’ve had experiences throughout my life that could be written about, although most would bore the type off the page. How many yawns constitute boredom? Hmmm – that may develop into another post some day. Heck, stranger things have been written about so why not that?

No, I guess I should think about something more serious – or entertaining – or relevant. In whose opinion? That’s what makes me crazy – trying to conform to some opinion of the masses when I haven’t a clue who the masses are and what their opinion might be. Maybe I shouldn’t care. OK, I don’t. But, then, there are the critics who read your work and whose opinions are important to success in the literary field (does a blog even qualify?). I’ve never held those folks' comments in high esteem, mostly because I’ve found many a story whose reviews were dismal but, after I read them anyway, enjoyed them immensely. Either that means the critics were wrong or I have really low standards. Either way, enjoyment is enjoyment and I don’t care who is right or wrong – only that the enjoyment factor is there.

I could share the story about being a tomboy as a kid – wishing I had been born a boy, mostly because my dad had wanted a son after having 3 girls. I tried.  Really hard. Played ball, collected bugs (and tormented my sisters with them), got muddy (to the dismay of my mom), loved to fish and just generally wanted to do whatever boys did. Until I turned 12. Suddenly, doing things that boys did took second fiddle to wanting boys to do me. Well, at 12, I wasn’t sure what that meant but I knew I wanted their attention – and not because I held the softball throwing distance record at school. But there are tons of stories about the passage from youth to adulthood – most are predictable if not poignant but it’s been done enough so, nope, not going to do that.

Oh – how about what it was like growing up in rural California? Laboring in the orchards, picking fruit or nuts along with the Hispanic folks who taught me so much about how to get the job done quickly and efficiently. How they had the whole family out there, working all day, laughing while they toiled and taking the occasional dip in the irrigation canal. How about that? Well, that’s about all there is to tell, so not really enough for a full-blown story.

Hey – I know, how about the rumors that followed me from grade school to high school! When I was 10, neighborhood boys talked me into lifting my shirt for 10 cents so they could look at my “boobs”. I thought they were suckers. My chest looked just like theirs. So, sure, I did it. Made a couple bucks and had a good laugh at their expense. Years later, as a high school student, the rumors were that I would show my boobs to anybody for a price. Kids can be brutal, hurtful creatures. Now, at nearly 60, I WISH somebody would pay to see my boobs – but I don’t get any requests any more, darn! Oh - and at my age, a dime just won't cut it!

First Post - What to Write

How the heck do you find something to write about and then put it to paper (or the computer screen, duh) in a way that makes others want to read it?

I wasn’t sure when I started what the answer to that question might be, so I just started typing away, hoping it would fall into place. Whether it has fallen into the correct place is up to you since the reader holds the power and always has, which makes the writer even more paranoid about the process.

There is some irony in that. As a writer, you are probably also an avid reader. What you read, when you read it, why you read it, is such a personal process.  As a writer, you tend to think in that same way – who is my reader, why would they read what I write and when would they opt for reading what I’ve written at the sacrifice of all other things they could be doing?

I don’t have an answer. I just know I want to write and hope what I’ve funneled through my brain cells out the tips of my fingers ultimately brings enjoyment to the brain cells of those who take a risk and read my blog. Looks like you’re a risk-taker – good for you! If you haven’t closed this blog yet, there may be hope you won’t until the end has been reached. At this point, I have no idea what that end may be...I find some comfort in that. I’ve always liked surprises.