But how I feel about this space needs more than a theme change.

It is called writing in the water and I’ve felt compelled to write only about writing.

But I’ve got nothing else to say about that these days.

So, I want a place where anything goes…well, up to a point.

It will be random, and probably insignificant, but such is life.

If you subscribe or link to me (first, wow and thank you kindly), then you could consider doing the same for the new digs.

But that is neither here nor there–it’s the Internet and where is that exactly?

The Fairy Tale Asylum is still being moved into, but please stop in.

Thank you all.

I am attempting to starve them out with silence. With any luck, the foundations can be saved and this space can be happily inhabited again.

Full eradication, of course, is unlikely. Non-destructive levels is the goal.

I just turned 43 (The Year of the Towel come to an end without the answer to life, the universe, and everything…), and I didn’t even blog about the day.

I’ve lost my way. A long time ago I told true stories…but that well is empty.

I came across this video series I really like. Here is one episode.

Obsession x Voice (Failed Writer #6) from Yuvi Zalkow on Vimeo.

And now I’m pondering what my obsessions are. Well, writing, art, the brain, Doctor Who and Torchwood, speed skating, and women’s rights. Some things I’ve avoided for fear of upsetting folks…but should I be worried about that? Really?

Lots to think about. Watch the video. Watch the other ones too.

Sure, I hated high school, but perhaps my animosity towards former classmates is a bit unnecessary. My classmates were not that awful. Many teens have far more unpleasant experiences. Anyway, while reading one of the essays on Molly Ringwald, I realized why I want next to nothing to do with classmates from high school.

Witnesses. They are witness to that life.

And who wants those?

Anyway. On facebook a mutual friend posted about his illness and asked people to pray for him, and she added, “He’s the nicest guy you could ever meet.”

And I, perhaps a bit ungraciously, thought, “No, he isn’t.”

Not that you shouldn’t pray for him if you believe in that sort of thing, but there is a reason why I’m not facebook friends with him even though thanks to the alphabet we sat next to each other for years in school. I’ve long though him a jerk.

Not that he doesn’t have family that loves him. He isn’t evil or anything. If prayer works then by all means he should be prayed for. I mean, if you believe in prayer, do you have to have a “nice” measurement to decide who to pray for? Obviously he has been nice to some people.

Of course, facebook is a natural habitat for hyperbole. Exclamation marks are the rabbits of the social networking!

But I was thinking about character and who we like and who we don’t the other day as I edited novel number one. In the story is a guy who is kind of a jerk. He isn’t a truly bad guy (like the antagonist). He tries to do some good things..while still being kind of a jerk. And I love him. And my protagonist grows to like him too.

Part of me thought…some readers will be annoyed that she likes this guy. He’s a jerk! She should slap him! Yeah…probably…but still…deep down he’s a nice guy.

The nicest guy you’d ever want to meet!

Characters that are too nice are boring, aren’t they?

But I wonder if this novel is ever read by anyone else, how they’ll see this guy. Will they find him oddly charming or a smarmy jerk?

You could pray for him, of course. But as the creator of my little world, I’m not going to intervene.

Many other writers have taken this title and run with it. Have you?

When non-writers ask, “Why do you write?” maybe they should be asked, “Why don’t you?”

What if all written words vanished? What if every written word in the world–in every language–drifted up into the atmosphere never to be seen again? No words in books, no words on billboards, no words on cereal boxes, no words on the Internet, no captions, no words anywhere at all. What would you do? What if you took out a pen, wrote your name on a piece of paper, and saw it disappear?

Would you value writing then?

Why are people so afraid of writing? Why do they balk at writing when they can express themselves and take time to consider what to say? Why is that so hard?

If the government decreed there would be no more writing–all writing banned–would it become more meaningful?

I don’t know. I am full of questions…

Still, I feel compelled to say I’m not visiting other blogs these days and I’ve barely written anything in the last few weeks.

Adding two classes to my schedule may not have been the best decision, but the bills will be paid, and that is always a good thing. I don’t want to be yet another wannabe writer waylaid by bills, housework, and, you know, everything else, but…nobody gets to swim against the tide forever.

Of course, maybe the tide is just a bad mood. Maybe a good mood will come in and lift all spirits.

The condition of our apartment is driving me crazy. The dust, the clutter, the endless chores, the small garden I let die, the messages I haven’t responded to… And two weeks into the semester and I’m behind on prepping for classes and for grading student work… At least I’m keeping up with the kid. For the most part. I set up an Etsy shop–haven’t made much of anything lately though. Supposed to have a show in January…no clue what to do for that.

But I’m whining even though I don’t want to. So. I’m going to get some sleep like a sensible person, and maybe dream like a sensible person too.

So, I read a blog post by my friend JES regarding the “A” word–as in What is your novel About?

An agent is currently looking at my first novel, and this “A” question is on my mind. My first novel is about a difficult subject…a conversation stopper subject.

Now let’s be clear. I didn’t begin the novel intending to write about dark and difficult things. I started writing about marbles.

I was with my writing group (which is now no more) and the writing prompt pulled out of the box was “marbles.” Okay. Well, I didn’t want to write about a game of marbles because that seemed too obvious and I don’t know anything about the game. The sound of marbles hitting a hard floor came to mind. This became the sound of marbles hitting wooden stairs.

Why would marbles be spilling down the stairs? Someone dumped them on the stairs. Hmm. Who? A girl. She comes to mind. She stands at the top of the stairs pouring marbles out of a blue jar.

Why would she do this? It would make a mess. Marbles would probably be lost. So they must not be her marbles.

So again–why would she do it? Oh, they are her brother’s marbles and she is angry at him. She wants him to know she is angry.

Why is she angry? He has done something wrong.

And he sees his marbles falling down the stairs, go in different directions, and he yells at her. He chases her. I see them in my mind and she is about 16 and he is about 5 years older…still living at home.

Because he can’t hold a job.

Because he’s an addict.

Because he does terrible things.

And he chases his sister into her room where she hides. He finds her, but she pulls out a knife she keeps hidden her boot to protect herself.

Why would she need a knife?

Because he is violent obviously.

What violent things has he done?

And before you know it (if ten years count as a before-you-know-it explanation), I’ve written a novel with drug addiction, incest, rape, and prostitution. (First chapter here.)

Hmm. What is your novel about?

Ummm…?

Well, the novel does have a reasonably happy ending. Does that help?

Usually when people ask the “A” question, I say something vague, “It’s about loyalty and friendship in difficult times.” Yes. I’m a chicken.

I have had a few agents reject the novel because of its subject matter. Which surprised me a bit because these are not new issues for fiction. Maybe if the novel were about a detective hunting down a serial rapist murderer instead.

Anyway, I don’t think of my novel as being about those dark subjects. Crazy as it sounds, i think of it as a novel about friendship–two girls saving their friendship.

All right. So I guess if I struggled to be honest about what my first novel is about, I’d have to say that it is about a girl whose brother raped her best friend, and perhaps it was a secret the girl had kept hidden from her best friend and everyone that allowed the rape to occur.

There. Said it.

Reading posts like this about women writers doesn’t make answering the “A” question any easier.

What is your novel about? Marbles.

But the last post discussed the idea of killing in a time traveling sense, which meant if-this-then-this thinking.

Writers do this kind of thinking all the time. If I have my character go here instead of there or say that instead of this…

And if you’ve written the story and go back and rewrite particular scenes, well, what you change has ramifications for the rest of the plot.

I decided a character didn’t have enough motivation to visit her brother in the hospital. She certainly feels no sympathy for him. Finally, I figured out why she would risk seeing her brother when she obviously shouldn’t…but now I’ve got to change little moments throughout the entire manuscript.

So in a way, if you go back in time and step on a butterfly, you do change the future. And if go back in your manuscript and send a character to steal a lock of her brother’s hair, you change your plot.

Imagine Poland never invaded. America never liberating Paris. London never going through the Blitz. And millions of people living the whole of their lives.

What would the world be like today? How would Churchill be remembered? What would’ve happened in Russia? Would the Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor?

How do you imagine the world would be different and where is this parallel universe?

And I want to add…um, Stephen Moffat? He’s writing (as in writing and/or in charge of) two, TWO, shows with iconic British characters. The Doctor and Sherlock Holmes. Imagine being responsible not just for your characters, but famous and indelible and amazing and loved characters. He’s right when he says it is insane. What am I complaining about?