Answers on a Pogo Stick

I woke up this morning at five am.  Unusual for me if I am not jet lagged.  I have been rolling a writing problem from the second book around in my brain for a while now.  Not a huge problem; not a messy problem but a niggling wiggling problem that creeps up on me when I am brushing my teeth.  And at five am this morning, the answer appeared.  Bang, like a gift on the doorstep.  Boxed, ribboned and addressed to me.

I was astonished.  I have never been a writer who expects the answer to come bouncing along on a pogo stick.  I believe in making a decision and if sixty pages (yes sixty--this actually happened while writing Nell) it is the wrong decision, go back and unravel it.  I find an odd sort of comfort in the mechanical workmanship of writing.  Sounds dreadfully unromantic but there it is.  I like the piecing and puzzling.  Puzzling is such a good Dr. Seuss word.

But here it was.  The answer was simple, manageable, small but important.  There was not enough city.  Not enough huff and puff and clip and clop.  Not enough hustles and bustles and cobbles and cakes.  And so I am putting them in...

Hist Fick Chick

Lovely, lovely Allie at Hist Fick Chick reviewed Nell and invited me for an interview!  Kind, incisive, thought provoking and generous, it was a delight.  Her blog is brilliantly meticulous about historical detail and I love that. What a wonderful thing to find on a pretty spring Saturday morning...

pages written this week: 28!  Getting there...

The Eclectic Reader

I did a guest post for wonderful Teddyree at her wonderful blog,The Eclectic Reader.  Her question was, "If you could be dropped into a novel as any character, who would you be and why?"

It was actually not an easy question as I quickly realized that many of the novels I love most do not go terribly well at the end...

And marvellous Linda at her marvellous LindyLouMac Book Reviews  wrote a lovely, lovely review of Nell!  Both she and Teddyree took the time to transfer the trailer and Nell images onto their blogs.  I am always so touched by that.

It is Tuesday.  It is spring.  I am reading a brilliant but darkly unnerving novel called Privilege and I have cut my hair super short again.  So far, a good week...

Bits and Pieces

Ariel, a dear friend of mine from college left me a lovely note at the end of my last post.  She is reading Nell and is enjoying the under-written quality of the emotional landscape.  It was a wonderful thing for her to write.  It is a big risk to just leave breadcrumbs scattered on the forest floor and hope they bring the reader to the gingerbread cottage heart of the book.

I find I am constantly battling a strong desire to leave enormous glaring, flashing, obvious, neon signs along the way to prevent any mishap and collect any stragglers.  'Battling'?  That makes it sound like I am riding into mighty combat with a three headed writing beastie, but that is a bit how it feels.  I am currently writing about a lesser known person but a more famous period in history.  The three headed writing beastie wants me to print out google maps for the readers so no one gets lost in the forest.  Tricksy stuff...

And, I wrote at the end of my last post that I had tea with the utterly lovely Philippa Gregory.  She astonishes me.  I love when historical accuracy profoundly matters to historical fiction authors.  They really will fall down the rabbit hole in order to track down the particular historical details that make the writing so rich.  I find that is a common thread with all of my favorite historical writers.

And, I got such a nice pixie dust surprise when I checked my email this morning.  Teddyree at the marvellous blog The Eclectic Reader wrote such a truly lovely review.

Apropos of nothing, I love my spell check.  It makes me giggle every day; like a straight faced butler it tirelessly serves up proper grammar on a silver tray.  But, I do not think my affection is mutual.  My spell check gets fed up with my using words like beastie...

Jolene

You know when you hear a song and it plays through you all day?  Your mind drifts to it when you let go of your thoughts like a bright red, musical balloon that sails out of your hand on a summer day in a summer park.  I love that.  Ray LaMontagne's throaty, haunting Jolene won't leave me alone this week.  

It has been a wonderful week.  Writing and reading and writing and reading.  I am in that lovely flat place in the writing.  The grassy plain in the heartland of the story when you can guess where you are going.  The characters are speaking to each other and to me.  One wants baked alaska, another wants to sail on the Titanic.  I told him it was a terrible idea... Jolene, Jolene...

And on Friday I had tea with Philippa Gregory and she was just utterly marvellous.  More about that tomorrow...

Dancing Nell and the Second Book

A funny thing has happened.  There is a before and an after.  Exit the Actress came out a month ago today. Before it came out, my second book felt like a far away thing; like a flower that lived on a star.  No one was asking about it as Nell was still waiting in the wings, fixing her hair, brushing her teeth and changing her dancing slippers.  Now Nell is in full swing and having a marvellous time at her party.  She sends a kiss and gives me a look as if to say "You can go.  Don't wait up."  Her dance card is full and she is planning to stay out until dawn.  I am happy for her but I miss her.

Many reviews and interviews end with a comment or question about my next book.  I love that; the assumption that I will write another.  I love that this is what I do now.  To write is a great verb.  I love that people are interested in what I am working on.  I have not been doing this long enough to be able to say I am an author without giggling.  I know I shouldn't but it gets away from me.

I have been strangely cagey about the second book.  It is set in the First World War but I have been reluctant to discuss the subject of the novel.  I have realized that second book is not quite ready for grown up company.  When I was very young my mother would take me to the ballet.  I loved it, only I wanted to sit closer.  No.  Until I could sit still in my seat, we had to sit up in a box where I could crawl around the floor and not bother anybody.  At last, when I could finally be trusted to keep my shoes on, stay in my own seat and face the stage, we moved to the stalls.  The first violinist always waved to me and I felt so grown up.  Second book is nearly ready to move...

And!  Lovely, lovely pin on refrigerator immediately review today from Christina at Confessions of a Book Addict!