There was some interest in hearing the story behind my random fact #4 from last Friday's post. The summer I spent hanging out in dark rooms with married men and drunk rats. Drunk pregnant rats. (Did I mention that the rats were pregnant?)
Okay. So, here's the story:
When I was younger, I wanted to be a doctor. So much so that I decided to prepare early. I wanted lots of extracurricular research activities on my resume when I applied to medical school. The summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I was put in touch with a professor at BYU who agreed to let me help with his research project. (He also told me my hair was the color of a sorrel mare. Which doesn't have anything to do with this story, but it's something I've never forgotten. No 16-year old girl wants to be compared to a horse, even if he meant it in the most flattering way possible.) Anyway, we were studying the effects of alcohol on the mother-rat's activity level as well as the fetus's brain and secondary sex characteristics.
(And now you're asking yourselves how I ended up an aspiring writer, aren't you? You can read about that here.)
For the experiment, we had to work in dark rooms since rats are active at night. The lights were turned on for the rats at night so that their schedules would adjust. We had a huge table marked off into a grid and we would count the number of squares that the mother-rats touched during the set amount of time--I forget how long it was. Some of the rats didn't move at all--they just bobbed dizzily about from drunkenness. There were always 3 of us so that we could average the results and all of the other students (both graduate and undergraduate) were male and married. Hence the dark rooms with married men and drunk rats.
I also learned during this experience that there are such things as rat guillotines. Just in case you weren't disturbed enough by now.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
7 Random Things
I won an award for my blog! This is from Krista V. over at Mother. Write. (Repeat.) She does the most awesome agent interviews!
Nikki Mantyla
Brodi Ashton
Karen M. Kruger
and Tami at Captured Moments by Tami
I'm now supposed to tell you seven random things about myself. So here it goes:
1. My husband and I were born in the same hospital in North Carolina. Not only that, my parents bought his old crib for my siblings and I to use, so we shared the same crib as babies.
2. There are seven letters in my first name because my parents wanted it to be a prime number. That's what happens when both your parents are statisticians.
3. I have been to 17 different countries. (USA, Canada, Great Britain, France, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Spain, Switzerland, Italy, Vatican City (yes, it is a country), Czech Republic, Monaco (our train stopped at the station there so it totally counts, right?), Israel, Jordan, Turkey, and Egypt (only to the Sinai Peninsula), in case you're interested.)
4. I spent the summer between my junior and senior year of high school in dark rooms with married men and drunk rats. Now don't you want to know what we were doing?
5. I used to think it was physically impossible to survive in temperatures above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. What can I say, we lived in Montana. I also thought that when you got your driver's license, you were assigned a color of light to go through on. Because that would work so well . . .
6. I went to the emergency room once after bobbing for apples.
7. I set off the fire alarm FIVE times while making dinner on Tuesday. Because I am that talented.
I want to pass this award on to some people who have inspired me in one way or another through their blogs:
Nikki Mantyla
Brodi Ashton
Karen M. Kruger
and Tami at Captured Moments by Tami
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Found Things
Things have been crazy in my house. We've been trying to sort through things and pack stuff up in preparation for trying to sell our house. We're finding all sorts of hidden treasures (and lost of dust, but let's not talk about that bit). Anyway, I found this poem today and I just have to share. It's by Donna Ducarme.
Fear.
Afraid of self,
afraid of knowing,
running, hiding,
going nowhere, fading fast.
Then Stop.
Turn and see.
Turn about and face it.
It? Me.
Myself, my secrets, my soul
Growing, dreaming, dancing,
going, going someplace,
anywhere, searching for meanings
& motives & reasons why
learning to fly, to soar again like
before, before fear made me run.
I have no idea where I came across this. It's written in my handwriting, but like I was in a hurry and I just had to have these words. I hope you like them too.
Fear.
Afraid of self,
afraid of knowing,
running, hiding,
going nowhere, fading fast.
Then Stop.
Turn and see.
Turn about and face it.
It? Me.
Myself, my secrets, my soul
Growing, dreaming, dancing,
going, going someplace,
anywhere, searching for meanings
& motives & reasons why
learning to fly, to soar again like
before, before fear made me run.
I have no idea where I came across this. It's written in my handwriting, but like I was in a hurry and I just had to have these words. I hope you like them too.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
In Which I Momentarily Lose Touch with Reality and Ask for Advice
First of all, the lovely Karen Kruger is hosting a weekly critique on her blog. Go check it out. She also does great book reviews.
So go look at Karen's blog, then back at mine. Then look at Karen's. Now back at mine . . .
Ahem. That's a scary do loop to get stuck in.
So, a couple days ago, I finished reading my WIP out loud to myself. I'd heard other author's recommend it, but I dragged my feet about it. I knew it would take SO long, and it did. But it was a really good thing to do and I highly recommend it. I found missing words, misspelled words, and extra words. I also found sentences that were understandable when reading silently--I knew what I meant, at least--but completely incomprehensible when reading them aloud. There is the occasional untouched page in my binder, but those are few and far between. Much more common are the pages that looked like I played Jackson Pollock with my pen. It's rather humbling. And exciting because it's fixable!
I've been going through and making the changes over the last few days, but I still have some more major issues that earned Post-It notes to tell me that I had some sort of problem to fix. Some of them are Big Problems (although I figured out how to fix the biggest Big Problem yesterday while I was brushing my teeth) and some of them are small decisions. But I'm not good at making decisions. One of the ones I'm struggling with is what to call the Sultan in my story when someone is addressing him directly. Should it be "Your Eminence," or "Your Excellency," or "Your Supreme and Most Exalted Majesty"? I just don't know. So I'm asking you. If you could make everyone call you by a ridiculous and fancy title, which one would you choose? Which would make you feel the most important? Please weigh in on my most desperate quandary.
So go look at Karen's blog, then back at mine. Then look at Karen's. Now back at mine . . .
Ahem. That's a scary do loop to get stuck in.
So, a couple days ago, I finished reading my WIP out loud to myself. I'd heard other author's recommend it, but I dragged my feet about it. I knew it would take SO long, and it did. But it was a really good thing to do and I highly recommend it. I found missing words, misspelled words, and extra words. I also found sentences that were understandable when reading silently--I knew what I meant, at least--but completely incomprehensible when reading them aloud. There is the occasional untouched page in my binder, but those are few and far between. Much more common are the pages that looked like I played Jackson Pollock with my pen. It's rather humbling. And exciting because it's fixable!
I've been going through and making the changes over the last few days, but I still have some more major issues that earned Post-It notes to tell me that I had some sort of problem to fix. Some of them are Big Problems (although I figured out how to fix the biggest Big Problem yesterday while I was brushing my teeth) and some of them are small decisions. But I'm not good at making decisions. One of the ones I'm struggling with is what to call the Sultan in my story when someone is addressing him directly. Should it be "Your Eminence," or "Your Excellency," or "Your Supreme and Most Exalted Majesty"? I just don't know. So I'm asking you. If you could make everyone call you by a ridiculous and fancy title, which one would you choose? Which would make you feel the most important? Please weigh in on my most desperate quandary.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Taste
I was talking to my neighbor the other day and she mentioned that she loves oatmeal-raisin cookie dough, which made me laugh. I like cookie dough and I like oatmeal-raisin cookies, but the dough is nothing but slimy disgustingness. Blech.
Everyone has different tastes. I know someone who refuses to eat pasta. There are people who won't touch seafood. No one is surprised by these things. Everyone tastes things differently and has different preferences. Some people, like me, find cinnamon a very strong spice and other people can eat it practically plain. It's normal and no one thinks that much about it.
Sometimes, though, I get stuck in thinking that everyone should have the same taste in books. Part of it might be that most of my friends that I exchange books with have similar preferences for books (which kind of makes sense since we're trading together). Unfortunately, that sometimes makes me think that everyone has the same taste and when another book is popular and very different from mine, I start thinking that no one would like mine.
Yes, I admit to being silly sometimes.
Most people, even if they love a food, don't eat that one thing and that one thing alone. Lots of people like lots of variety. Yes, some people do enjoy oatmeal-raisin cookie dough, pasta, AND seafood. But not only that, for every person that doesn't like pasta, there are many people who love it. There are fans of all genres.
Does this mean that your book will sell? Maybe not. But don't decide that it won't just because someone else's book did.
(As a side note to the gushing of my last post, Avatar: the Last Airbender is also proof that Luke Skywalker did finally turn to the Dark Side--Mark Hamill does the voice of Fire Lord Ozai. And, yes, I am a nerd.)
Everyone has different tastes. I know someone who refuses to eat pasta. There are people who won't touch seafood. No one is surprised by these things. Everyone tastes things differently and has different preferences. Some people, like me, find cinnamon a very strong spice and other people can eat it practically plain. It's normal and no one thinks that much about it.
Sometimes, though, I get stuck in thinking that everyone should have the same taste in books. Part of it might be that most of my friends that I exchange books with have similar preferences for books (which kind of makes sense since we're trading together). Unfortunately, that sometimes makes me think that everyone has the same taste and when another book is popular and very different from mine, I start thinking that no one would like mine.
Yes, I admit to being silly sometimes.
Most people, even if they love a food, don't eat that one thing and that one thing alone. Lots of people like lots of variety. Yes, some people do enjoy oatmeal-raisin cookie dough, pasta, AND seafood. But not only that, for every person that doesn't like pasta, there are many people who love it. There are fans of all genres.
Does this mean that your book will sell? Maybe not. But don't decide that it won't just because someone else's book did.
(As a side note to the gushing of my last post, Avatar: the Last Airbender is also proof that Luke Skywalker did finally turn to the Dark Side--Mark Hamill does the voice of Fire Lord Ozai. And, yes, I am a nerd.)
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
In Which I Gush. A Lot.
Last Saturday, my siblings and I (sans the one who lives on the other side of the country) got together to celebrate my dad's birthday. During one of the moments were the kids were not wreaking havoc on my parents' house, my sister, my brother, and I got into a discussion of our favorite shows.
To my surprise, neither of them had ever watched Avatar: the Last Airbender (the cartoon, not the movie).
I consider this to be a travesty of the worst sort. How could my own brother and sister have not watched this show? Obviously I hadn't been gushing about the show enough. Because it is awesome.
Why do I, at my age, love this show?
1. The characters. I adore the characters. All of them. Good guys, bad guys. They all have fleshed out stories and are so real. They all have strengths, they all have weaknesses. And I love them all. I laugh with them, I ache with them, and I cheer for them when they succeed. I could go on and on about the characters, but maybe I'll wait until you've all seen it. Go on. Go watch it.
2. The dialogue. It's witty and fun and makes me laugh. A lot.
3. The magic system is super cool. I'd go on about that, but I'd start drooling and ruin my keyboard.
4. Male/female dynamics. I know this is a soap box of mine, but I get tired of shows where either the girls are the smart competent ones and the boys are idiots or the shows where the girls are stupid, sappy, saccharine creatures in constant need of being rescues. This show doesn't have either issue. The girls are strong fighters and so are the boys. And what's more, they actually work together.
5. Do I really have to come up with more reasons? Because if I do, then I'll start gushing about individual episodes and the brilliance of them and the specific characters. And you don't want me to tell you about the hotness of Zuko and the wit of Sokka and the cuteness of Ty Lee--you need to experience those on your own. So, can't you just take my word for the incredible awesomeness that is this show?
6. Okay, fine. One more reason. It's just so much fun! And don't we all need a little more fun in our lives?
To my surprise, neither of them had ever watched Avatar: the Last Airbender (the cartoon, not the movie).
I consider this to be a travesty of the worst sort. How could my own brother and sister have not watched this show? Obviously I hadn't been gushing about the show enough. Because it is awesome.
Why do I, at my age, love this show?
1. The characters. I adore the characters. All of them. Good guys, bad guys. They all have fleshed out stories and are so real. They all have strengths, they all have weaknesses. And I love them all. I laugh with them, I ache with them, and I cheer for them when they succeed. I could go on and on about the characters, but maybe I'll wait until you've all seen it. Go on. Go watch it.
2. The dialogue. It's witty and fun and makes me laugh. A lot.
3. The magic system is super cool. I'd go on about that, but I'd start drooling and ruin my keyboard.
4. Male/female dynamics. I know this is a soap box of mine, but I get tired of shows where either the girls are the smart competent ones and the boys are idiots or the shows where the girls are stupid, sappy, saccharine creatures in constant need of being rescues. This show doesn't have either issue. The girls are strong fighters and so are the boys. And what's more, they actually work together.
5. Do I really have to come up with more reasons? Because if I do, then I'll start gushing about individual episodes and the brilliance of them and the specific characters. And you don't want me to tell you about the hotness of Zuko and the wit of Sokka and the cuteness of Ty Lee--you need to experience those on your own. So, can't you just take my word for the incredible awesomeness that is this show?
6. Okay, fine. One more reason. It's just so much fun! And don't we all need a little more fun in our lives?
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Perfect Pitch
Dear Agent,
Look at my book, isn't it neat?
And my main character--isn't she sweet?
Wouldn't you think it's the tale, the tale that has everything!
It's got dragons and demons aplenty.
It's got space ships and pirates galore.
You want princesses? There's at least twenty.
Don't you care? It'll be big deal . . .
Do you want more?
Do you want to see where my plot is heading?
And, at the end, will there be a wedding?
Skimming around all those (what do you call them) scenes,
Meeting her prince and the sparks will fly
And then every bad guy will (what's that word again?) die!
Where will they dance? Where will they cry?
And will anyone get a black eye?
Just wait and see, and you can be part of my world!
Sincerely,
Me
Tune in next time for more musical advise: "I think I'll try defying brevity and you can't edit me down!"
Look at my book, isn't it neat?
And my main character--isn't she sweet?
Wouldn't you think it's the tale, the tale that has everything!
It's got dragons and demons aplenty.
It's got space ships and pirates galore.
You want princesses? There's at least twenty.
Don't you care? It'll be big deal . . .
Do you want more?
Do you want to see where my plot is heading?
And, at the end, will there be a wedding?
Skimming around all those (what do you call them) scenes,
Meeting her prince and the sparks will fly
And then every bad guy will (what's that word again?) die!
Where will they dance? Where will they cry?
And will anyone get a black eye?
Just wait and see, and you can be part of my world!
Sincerely,
Me
Tune in next time for more musical advise: "I think I'll try defying brevity and you can't edit me down!"
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
How Everything Revolves Around Writing
I almost called my daughter's best friend my main character's name today. Oops. Apparently, I have a one track mind. To demonstrate this narrow minded feat of mine, I will a couple things I saw recently and what they made me think of.
1. The main road near my house, the one that has been under construction for the last few billion years (or at least it sometimes feels like that) was finally paved last week. And there was much rejoicing. This morning, though, we began feeling the familiar foundation shattering tremors. And, yes, you guessed it, they are digging it up AGAIN. (And now I understand why the government spends so much money on road construction . . .) As I watched them, I thought about how we sometimes have these scenes that we love and think are completed, but then we realize that the scene is wrong for the story and we had to tear it out.
And, yes, I did just tear out a scene that I loved. How did you know? It was one of those scenes where the hero and the heroine are forced together and sparks fly. The hero was saying all these witty, obnoxious things that made even me want to slap him. Did I like the scene? Yes. Was I rather proud of myself? Yes. Would that character in that situation ever do those things? No. Absolutely not.
I didn't completely tear out the scene though. First, I tried to tone him down and told myself it was good enough, but (as one of my critiquer's pointed out), he was still way too mean, at least for him in that situation. I, like the construction workers, had tried to tell myself that the scene was fine and it was okay to pave over and move on. But it wasn't. It still needed to be fixed. So I tore the pavement up and fixed the scene. At least it's cheaper than tearing up a road, right?
2. Our house is in the foothills facing a tall mountain. Occasionally people will ride dirt bikes up and down the mountain. Anyway, my sister-in-law dropped something off on Saturday night around 9 p.m., nearly two hours after sunset. To our surprise, there was a car trying to drive up the mountain on a road that has to be practically vertical in places. The car got stuck, backed up, and--much to our amusement--tried again.
Sometimes writing feels like this. Trying to drive up a steep mountain in the dark. The problems in our manuscript seem insurmountable and sometimes we can't do anything other than back-up and try again.
See? Everything in my life revolves around writing.
Or maybe it's just today. I finished another draft and have decided to do something completely crazy. I just printed out my manuscript (it's still warm as I write this) and I'm going to read the entire thing to myself. Out loud. Yep. Crazy. Wish me luck?
1. The main road near my house, the one that has been under construction for the last few billion years (or at least it sometimes feels like that) was finally paved last week. And there was much rejoicing. This morning, though, we began feeling the familiar foundation shattering tremors. And, yes, you guessed it, they are digging it up AGAIN. (And now I understand why the government spends so much money on road construction . . .) As I watched them, I thought about how we sometimes have these scenes that we love and think are completed, but then we realize that the scene is wrong for the story and we had to tear it out.
And, yes, I did just tear out a scene that I loved. How did you know? It was one of those scenes where the hero and the heroine are forced together and sparks fly. The hero was saying all these witty, obnoxious things that made even me want to slap him. Did I like the scene? Yes. Was I rather proud of myself? Yes. Would that character in that situation ever do those things? No. Absolutely not.
I didn't completely tear out the scene though. First, I tried to tone him down and told myself it was good enough, but (as one of my critiquer's pointed out), he was still way too mean, at least for him in that situation. I, like the construction workers, had tried to tell myself that the scene was fine and it was okay to pave over and move on. But it wasn't. It still needed to be fixed. So I tore the pavement up and fixed the scene. At least it's cheaper than tearing up a road, right?
2. Our house is in the foothills facing a tall mountain. Occasionally people will ride dirt bikes up and down the mountain. Anyway, my sister-in-law dropped something off on Saturday night around 9 p.m., nearly two hours after sunset. To our surprise, there was a car trying to drive up the mountain on a road that has to be practically vertical in places. The car got stuck, backed up, and--much to our amusement--tried again.
Sometimes writing feels like this. Trying to drive up a steep mountain in the dark. The problems in our manuscript seem insurmountable and sometimes we can't do anything other than back-up and try again.
See? Everything in my life revolves around writing.
Or maybe it's just today. I finished another draft and have decided to do something completely crazy. I just printed out my manuscript (it's still warm as I write this) and I'm going to read the entire thing to myself. Out loud. Yep. Crazy. Wish me luck?
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