A few years ago I went to Ad Astra and heard what was probably the best writing advice for someone like me (by which I mean someone with a lot of time but also a lot of 'projects', housework, etc with which to occupy myself). That ideas was: planning your time.
The speaker showed how if you plan your week - writing down all the chores, work, your writing time and actually allotting time for other projects, you can see how much time you have and GET EVERYTHING DONE. I tried it when completing my chick lit. Up until then I had the idea that chores should be done first, while realizing that by the time my chores were done I was too tired to write and ended up reading and doing other things with the rest of my day. By scheduling chore time into the day I could see that I had the time to write - when I was most awake and excited - AND time to do chores and other things. As an 'achiever', someone who needs to check things off my to do list in order to feel like I'm accomplishing something, it made writing time something I could schedule in as a necessity rather than a hobby. It became work - and work to be done before all my other work. I also learned I didn't need to rush myself when writing. I could spend an hour or more before moving onto daily chores because THE TIME WAS THERE.
I've been trying to get back into the habit of scheduling my time again. Not only did I waste less of it by surfing the internet or watching TV, I also get a lot more writing done.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Writer's Block
I've always assumed that writer's block only referred to that time when you sit down at your computer and stare at the white page in front of you. You want to write. You just can't seem to get started.
But writer's block can also be that time when you have no motivation to write at all. When you feel that novel you want to write weighing on you. I read once that a project like a novel is so large that it takes your brain a while to accept that you're actually going to try it. Until it can accept that fact, it simply stares blankly at the screen, waiting for something to happen.
I recently went through a period of this. I think in some way it's a good thing. It clears your mind. Allows you to do other work that might distract you once you get the 'inspiration' you're looking for. I've noticed in my own writing there are times when I feel the NEED to write - when the story WANTS to be told and I have to work on that novel every day in order to get it out of my system and into the world. That's when I do my best writing. When I know where the story is going and how to get there. If I'm not in one of those 'phases' writing is a chore. It's dull and uninspired. It's boring - both to write and read. I've found it's best to wait out those 'dry' periods while my brain works itself around whatever issue with the story is causing problems and start writing when my brain clicks back into knowing what to do and how to do it.
In the mean time, there's lots of other things to keep me occupied.
But writer's block can also be that time when you have no motivation to write at all. When you feel that novel you want to write weighing on you. I read once that a project like a novel is so large that it takes your brain a while to accept that you're actually going to try it. Until it can accept that fact, it simply stares blankly at the screen, waiting for something to happen.
I recently went through a period of this. I think in some way it's a good thing. It clears your mind. Allows you to do other work that might distract you once you get the 'inspiration' you're looking for. I've noticed in my own writing there are times when I feel the NEED to write - when the story WANTS to be told and I have to work on that novel every day in order to get it out of my system and into the world. That's when I do my best writing. When I know where the story is going and how to get there. If I'm not in one of those 'phases' writing is a chore. It's dull and uninspired. It's boring - both to write and read. I've found it's best to wait out those 'dry' periods while my brain works itself around whatever issue with the story is causing problems and start writing when my brain clicks back into knowing what to do and how to do it.
In the mean time, there's lots of other things to keep me occupied.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Show Don't Tell
This is the advice given to most writers when it comes to, well, everything. Telling your audience that the protagonist likes to eat pizza on the weekend isn't as effective as having the person simply order the pizza and enjoy eating it while watching TV.
I just read a post by Paperback Writer, where she relates a story that happened to her in a restaurant. She'd recently had surgery and her eye was affected by it. Her waitress believed - due to the 'shown' information, that her husband had hit her and treated the couple accordingly. Paperback Writer concludes with the moniker that we need to be aware that our readers may not see our hints the way we intend, and that sometimes we need to tell to get the right message across.
This actually brings up a different question for me. How much of stereotypes, how much misinformation about people, races, cultures, religions is due to literature showing rather than telling? We've been trained to take a few pieces of often disjointed information and pull together a so called composite picture from that.
If you saw a woman, sitting with her back to the room at a restaurant, wearing sun glasses that - once removed - prove she's sporting a black eye, what conclusion would you jump to?
What about the black man standing in line behind you, one hand in his coat pocket, obviously covering something? Would your first thought be that he's holding his wallet because it's a bad neighbourhood? Or would you think it was a gun - because that's the stereotype we've been trained to assume is the truth?
How about the Muslim woman wearing the hajib. Do believe she's wearing it because her husband is forcing her to or because she's a pious woman who honestly prefers it?
And why are we too afraid and ashamed to ask and discover the truth?
I'll never forget reading Black Like Me by John Griffin. I shook my head at a lot of the racist slurs being perpetrated against the African American population as described in his book. Growing up in Canada, born after the civil rights movement ended, I had never heard these things before. Nor had I realized how many people believed such slurs to be the truth. Or how many people continue to perpetuate such insidious lies rather than discover - or accept - the truth. The truth that people are inherently all the same. We have the same needs: food, shelter, heat and love, the same wants: to provide for our families, be successful and find happiness.
Maybe we need to discover a better way of writing. One that doesn't require jumping to conclusions. Or perhaps we need to realize that jumping to conclusions about characters in a novel is harmless - while doing the same with real people can be devastating.
I just read a post by Paperback Writer, where she relates a story that happened to her in a restaurant. She'd recently had surgery and her eye was affected by it. Her waitress believed - due to the 'shown' information, that her husband had hit her and treated the couple accordingly. Paperback Writer concludes with the moniker that we need to be aware that our readers may not see our hints the way we intend, and that sometimes we need to tell to get the right message across.
This actually brings up a different question for me. How much of stereotypes, how much misinformation about people, races, cultures, religions is due to literature showing rather than telling? We've been trained to take a few pieces of often disjointed information and pull together a so called composite picture from that.
If you saw a woman, sitting with her back to the room at a restaurant, wearing sun glasses that - once removed - prove she's sporting a black eye, what conclusion would you jump to?
What about the black man standing in line behind you, one hand in his coat pocket, obviously covering something? Would your first thought be that he's holding his wallet because it's a bad neighbourhood? Or would you think it was a gun - because that's the stereotype we've been trained to assume is the truth?
How about the Muslim woman wearing the hajib. Do believe she's wearing it because her husband is forcing her to or because she's a pious woman who honestly prefers it?
And why are we too afraid and ashamed to ask and discover the truth?
I'll never forget reading Black Like Me by John Griffin. I shook my head at a lot of the racist slurs being perpetrated against the African American population as described in his book. Growing up in Canada, born after the civil rights movement ended, I had never heard these things before. Nor had I realized how many people believed such slurs to be the truth. Or how many people continue to perpetuate such insidious lies rather than discover - or accept - the truth. The truth that people are inherently all the same. We have the same needs: food, shelter, heat and love, the same wants: to provide for our families, be successful and find happiness.
Maybe we need to discover a better way of writing. One that doesn't require jumping to conclusions. Or perhaps we need to realize that jumping to conclusions about characters in a novel is harmless - while doing the same with real people can be devastating.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Book Expo America 2009
I just came back from BEA in New York City. It's a forum for new ideas, mixing publishers, booksellers and more in conference sessions and a trade show. And boy, did it ever give me ideas. I'll be busy with my scififanletter blog over the next few weeks, but I intend to start planning and writing my novel in conjunction with that, so stay tuned for what I hope will become regular posts.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Back to the Drawing Board
Several years ago I started writing a fantasy prequel to a novel I'd completed. I took a break and wrote my chick lit because the romance was flowing and the fantasy was not. Once I'd finished the chick lit I thought it would be easy to get back into the fantasy. It was and it wasn't. I had the drive to write but the story just wouldn't budge. I wrote chapters - invented whole new scenes I hadn't planned on writing - but the actual story just wouldn't move forward.
So I decided it was a flawed idea and quit. Or thought that perhaps the idea was simply too big and I didn't have the skills to write such an epic story at this point in my career.
I've since come to the conclusion that I was too hasty in that pronouncement. The problem was: my timeline was simply too long. The chick lit took place within a few months. My previous fantasy was just over one month in duration - from the start of the novel until the end. This fantasy had the temerity of taking place over several years - years in which nothing happened. So there was a lot of detailed action, nothing and then more detailed action. I simply couldn't figure out how to make that 'nothing happened' realistic while at the same time explaining that, yes, of course stuff DID happen, it just wasn't important enough to write about.
The solution? Reduce the timeline. Why does this war have to take place over 8 years? Can't things progress faster while still showing the horrors of what war can do? Yes. It won't be a short timeline - it is a war after all - but it will be a timeline I can confidently write. This novel has too many good elements for me to simply toss it by the wayside. A few days to reconsider my outline, and then I can get to writing again!
So I decided it was a flawed idea and quit. Or thought that perhaps the idea was simply too big and I didn't have the skills to write such an epic story at this point in my career.
I've since come to the conclusion that I was too hasty in that pronouncement. The problem was: my timeline was simply too long. The chick lit took place within a few months. My previous fantasy was just over one month in duration - from the start of the novel until the end. This fantasy had the temerity of taking place over several years - years in which nothing happened. So there was a lot of detailed action, nothing and then more detailed action. I simply couldn't figure out how to make that 'nothing happened' realistic while at the same time explaining that, yes, of course stuff DID happen, it just wasn't important enough to write about.
The solution? Reduce the timeline. Why does this war have to take place over 8 years? Can't things progress faster while still showing the horrors of what war can do? Yes. It won't be a short timeline - it is a war after all - but it will be a timeline I can confidently write. This novel has too many good elements for me to simply toss it by the wayside. A few days to reconsider my outline, and then I can get to writing again!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Chapter 3 - Preparations
(Just a quick note - when I cut and paste my chapters here all formatting disappears, so if there's italics or something missing, sorry. Blogger also doesn't like indenting, so I added a space between each paragraph to make reading easier.)
The room erupted in applause. Julie was among the first to stand and soon everyone in the room was on their feet as the speaker left the floor.
“That was amazing,” she said to Allen, as she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair she’d been sitting on.
“Yes, it was.” He replied.
“Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here?”
He smiled. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how much I’d like a talk about the genocide in Rwanda. It’s not exactly a pleasant topic.”
“No,” Julie’s answer was slow in coming. “It’s not a pleasant topic. But it’s a necessary one. Maybe if we paid more attention to unpleasant situations around the world we’d stop them from escalating into genocides and wars. We’re so lucky here, we tend to forget that people in other parts of the world don’t have the same opportunities, advantages or even liberties we do here.”
“I whole heartedly agree,” Brenda said, walking up to join them.
“Brenda, it’s good to see you again,” Allen said, stepping around Julie to give her a hug. “And Matt, it’s been ages.” He proffered his hand, which Matt promptly shook.
Allen moved aside so Julie could give Matt a hug. “It has been a long time,” she said, stepping away. “We looked for you earlier but…”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Brenda said. “We were a bit late. For some reason our bedroom door won’t close properly. You know that thing that sticks out and catches on the lock? Well, it’s stuck inside so the door opens periodically on it’s own from the wind and what not. Very strange. Anyway, it’s been driving me nuts so Matt decided to look at it today and we lost track of time.” She shrugged.
“So, did you fix it?” Allen asked Matt?
Matt’s cheeks flushed. “No, Brenda pulled me away before I could figure it out.”
“Well, I’m glad you made it.” Julie pulled the conversation around. “How did you like the talk?”
“It was fabulous. It makes you want to go out and fix the world.” Brenda said.
“The unfortunate thing,” piped up Matt who, as an accountant, tended towards the practical, “is that by next week we’ll have forgotten the message and returned to our normal ways of thinking and acting.”
“And ignoring,” Julie agreed. There was a moment of silence as they all acknowledged the unfortunate truth of the sentiment. “So, what have you been up to lately?” she asked Matt.
“Work,” he replied. “I’ve just started a new account and it’s taking up a lot of time.”
“Speaking of that account,” Brenda cut in, “isn’t that Amanda over there?”
“Where?” They all looked where Brenda pointed.
A pretty young woman was standing surrounded by people. She was staring at their party, having already recognized her co-worker. When Matt waved to her she smiled and walked over.
“Hi Matt,” she said as she joined them. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me outside of work.”
“I’m always happy to see you. You’ve met my wife before, I believe.”
Amanda nodded and shook hands with Brenda. Her handshake was limp and brief.
“These are some friends of ours, Allen Peterson and Julie Sands. Julie works with Brenda at the library.”
Amanda shook hands with them before turning back to Matt.
“Were you able to finish the numbers for Max before going home last night?”
“Yes, but they didn’t work out quite the way he wanted so apparently we have to look over them again.”
“Again! But that’s the third proposal we’ve sent!”
Matt sighed. “I have to admit, this is probably the most demanding client I’ve ever had to deal with.”
Brenda, Julie and Allen seemed to realize at the same time that they weren’t included in this discussion and began talking about other issues.
“So I hear you’re trying to find Julie a husband.” Brenda said. Julie looked scandalized that her friend would mention it while Allen merely looked embarrassed.
“You’re telling your friends?” He accused.
“Well, it’s not like it’s some horrible secret or anything.”
“Yeah, well, no pressure, eh?” He’d never thought Julie would share this plan with others. He
thought she’d keep it to herself so he’d be the only one she’d talk to about her dates. He should have realized that she’d tell other people he was doing this for her. He didn’t realize until he was aware that it was out in the open how much he’d enjoyed the thought of having a secret with her. This plan was something they could share, an in joke no one else would be privy to. Not so, apparently. He had to share it with her girlfriends. Which once again made him realize that Julie thought of him as ‘one of the girls’.
“I have to admit,” Brenda continued, ignoring the sudden tension, “I don’t think it’s a terribly good plan. But I’m more than willing to sit back and see how things work out.”
“Oh, thank you very much.” Allen said. “Who could possibly fail with an endorsement like that.”
Matt cut into their conversation with, “what can’t you fail at?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Allen’s setting Julie up with some of his friends. It’s Julie’s way of dating without effort.”
“Hey, I still have to go on these dates you know. That qualifies as effort.”
“And it takes a lot of effort for her to look good.” Allen teased.
Julie slapped him lightly on the sleeve but her stern tone was rather undone by her laughter.
“I’m not that hopeless I’ll have you know.”
“Of course not or I wouldn’t be doing this.” He assured her.
“Where did… Ashley go?” Julie asked, trying to change the subject.
“Amanda? She went back to her group. She and a few friends are going to a bar after this.”
Allen turned and sure enough, the woman was back in her previous location though she seemed to be watching his group rather than paying attention to what her friends were saying. How odd.
“So, think you’ll have much luck?”
“What?” Allen asked, pulling his attention back to Matt.
“Finding someone for Julie.”
“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I hadn’t thought I could help.” It was true. Just because he was helping himself at the same time with this plan didn’t mean it wouldn’t help her too.
Matt simply looked at him, eyebrows raised. Finally he shook his head. “You’re braver than I am.”
Confused Allen asked, “Why’s that?”
“You wouldn’t catch me trying to set people up. That’s women’s business. Think about it. If you were a woman and another woman had set you up you’d simply let it go as a bad call. But it a man had set you up… You’d go back to him and run him into the ground because of it.”
“You really think so? I mean, what difference does it make who’s set you up? If it’s bad it’s bad and you move on. If it’s good…” He shrugged, not seeing a problem with this scheme.
“Trust me. Women are more forgiving of other women’s faults than they are a man’s. If a woman leaves the cap off the toothpaste it’s a mistake. If a man does it he’s a slob. It’s just the way things are.”
“Oh come on,” this time Julie cut in. “We’re not that bad. If Allen sets me up with someone I don’t like, I’ll deal with it. It’s not like I’m expecting to fall in love on the first date or something. This was only an idea and if it doesn’t work I’ll think of another one. I’m not going to hold Allen responsible for my happiness. I just thought as he knows more men than I do maybe he could help me get a few dates with guys who aren’t alcoholics and players.”
“Uh huh. Remember that when this plan backfires.”
“What makes you think it will?” Allen demanded.
Matt held up his hands in surrender and laughed. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Please, as you were.”
“We’d better get going.” Brenda said, tugging on Matt’s arm. “I’ve got to open the library tomorrow and there’s still a few things I need to get done at home tonight.”
The tension left as quickly as it came and they all smiled at each other as they said goodbye.
“Wait, Julie,” Allen called. “The first date’s all set up.” He said when she joined him.
“That was fast.”
“What, are you getting cold feet?”
“Not a chance.”
“Good. It’s this Friday. You’re to meet at Sound Smarts on Yonge. It’s an electronics store. Since you don’t know what each other look like, I’ve told him to bring a rose. If you bring one too you’ll be able to identify each other that way.”
“Sounds good.” She rubbed her hands together.
“Sure you’re not having second thoughts about this?” He asked, thinking of Matt’s words.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks Allen.” He waved and watched her walk off.
As Allen walked back to his apartment he thought about Matt’s words. Would he live to regret this? He wasn’t, after all, strictly following the plan as Julie saw it. Would it come up and bite him on the rear?
No. He’d thought it all through. And hadn’t Julie said she wasn’t expecting to fall in love right away? And that she wouldn’t blame him if she didn’t find the person she was looking for in one of these dates? It was just an idea. A way of meeting people. And if he used her idea to build on their already close relationship, well that would just help her see that he was a good man.
He nodded to himself. This plan would work.
* * *
Julie was a bit unsure the next day when she entered the hairdresser’s salon. She liked her long hair. She didn’t really feel like cutting any of it off, especially in the hopes of attracting men she hadn’t even met yet. But she’d agreed to follow Allen’s rules. And who knows, maybe Allen was right about this. Maybe cutting a few inches off would suddenly make her irresistible to men. She laughed at the thought. The two people sitting inside turned to look at her as if she were crazy. Well, laughing for no discernable reason looked pretty crazy, she supposed At least it did in Toronto.
She went to the desk and talked to the sales clerk.
“Do you have an appointment?” The woman behind the counter asked.
“No. I’m not in a hurry so whenever someone’s free that’ll be great.”
“Did you have a particular stylist in mind?”
“Nope.”
“Alright. Have a seat. It’ll probably be about twenty minutes.”
Julie sat down and started flipping through some magazines. She didn’t want to do anything fancy but it was nice to imagine. Everything seemed to be pointing at short hair this season, a length she thought would look horrible on her. Depending on how it was styled. She wasn’t too keen on spending hours every morning curling or straitening her hair. Nor did she like using lots of gel or hairspray. Her hair was long with a bit of a wave and she loved it as it was.
She almost got up to leave as she was called over by one of the hairdressers. The man seated her and asked what she wanted done.
“Just a trim.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, stroking her hair. “It’s beautiful, but you’d look great with a really short cut, don’t you think?”
She paused before answering so it would look like she was considering the idea. I guess they like it when they’re allowed to play around with your hair. Doing whatever they think would look good. Too bad I think I’d look good with nothing more than a trim. “Sorry, I’m not that brave. I don’t really want to cut it at all, but I thought a trim, to straighten it and get rid of split ends…”
“Oh, I doubt you have split ends,” he said, checking. “Seems like you’re taking good care of it. Well, there are a few. Sure I can’t change your mind?”
“Quite.”
He frowned in disappointment. She saw him shrug before he asked, “How much were you thinking of cutting?”
“Two inches.”
“Then let’s go.” He brought her over to the sinks and washed her hair and then back to the chair for the trim. He took off three inches instead of two, but she had to admit that it did look good when he was done. The ends curled a bit making it look shoulder length. She could still tie it back, which was the main thing.
“Do you like it?” He asked, using a hand mirror to show her the back.
“I do.” She moved her head to see as much of the back and sides as she could. “I really like it. Thanks.”
She left him a tip and then paid for the cut feeling much better about the whole thing.
Because of the talk they went to Allen wasn’t coming over for movie night. That gave Julie time to stress about the upcoming date. It was probably a good thing Allen wasn’t here, she reflected. He’d be bored to tears with her hopes and dreams for this plan.
She wasn’t going to buy new clothes for this, so when she got home she went through her wardrobe. She had several colourful tops which she’d long ago consigned to the back of her closet. She fished them out and looked them over. One of them was too hideous to wear. It was a gift she’d ‘forgotten’ about and never worn. She threw it away so she wouldn’t be tempted.
From the clothes left over, two shirts were a little baggy so she put them away again. The others fit well and would add to her regular day wear of black and white tops. She still wasn’t convinced that coloured blouses were a better choice for these dates than a t-shirt and sweater. She’d feel more formal though. Maybe that was the idea. What had Allen said? Have confidence. She snorted. Wearing these she’d feel like she was going to a job interview. Hadn’t Allen joked that her list looked like interview criteria? Wouldn’t it be better if she was comfortable rather than sexy? She looked at the clothes. Probably not. If men really go first for looks rather than personality the ‘unbuttonable shirt’ was definitely the way to go. She shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It felt like she was getting ready to auction herself off or something. She could even picture it. ‘Can we have a bid on the next slab of meat? It cooks, it speaks three languages, it looks sexy in a red blouse with a short black skirt.’ With hands only raising at the last criteria.
She shook her head to dislodge the image and pulled out a few dresses. One, a black silk Chinese dress she put back. She doubted she’d have a use for that one. She’d worn it to her university graduation. And wished the whole time she’d worn pants. It was too grand for the kinds of first dates she was expecting. She put the other dresses back as well. She’d definitely feel more comfortable in pants, regardless of what kind of top she wore.
She sighed. She wanted to find a decent man. She wanted a man who loved her for her mind and her abilities. It annoyed her that she felt she had to pander to society’s image of women, dressed to the nines with impeccable make-up and a model’s body. The body was definitely out. The make-up she could swing and the clothes. But she knew she wasn’t the type of women who turns men’s heads. She was average, ordinary. That’s why she needed help finding men.
She sat down on the bed feeling sorry for herself. Why couldn’t she find a decent guy on her own? Why did she have to resort to a ploy to meet men? Where were they all hiding? Surely the good ones weren’t all married.
She stood up again. Moaning and complaining about it wasn’t going to help her find a man either. That’s why she’d come up with a tangible plan. Once you had a plan things worked out. She’d had a plan for getting through school and finding a library job and those had both turned out the way she’d wanted. Finding a husband would be the same. She’d apply herself to the hunt and a few months from now she’d be able to look back on all the guys she’d dated and pick out a few she wanted to get to know better.
It was a start. And the longest journey started with a single step.
She chose the outfit she was going to wear on her date Tomorrow. The first steps were done.
Now the fun began.
The room erupted in applause. Julie was among the first to stand and soon everyone in the room was on their feet as the speaker left the floor.
“That was amazing,” she said to Allen, as she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair she’d been sitting on.
“Yes, it was.” He replied.
“Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here?”
He smiled. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how much I’d like a talk about the genocide in Rwanda. It’s not exactly a pleasant topic.”
“No,” Julie’s answer was slow in coming. “It’s not a pleasant topic. But it’s a necessary one. Maybe if we paid more attention to unpleasant situations around the world we’d stop them from escalating into genocides and wars. We’re so lucky here, we tend to forget that people in other parts of the world don’t have the same opportunities, advantages or even liberties we do here.”
“I whole heartedly agree,” Brenda said, walking up to join them.
“Brenda, it’s good to see you again,” Allen said, stepping around Julie to give her a hug. “And Matt, it’s been ages.” He proffered his hand, which Matt promptly shook.
Allen moved aside so Julie could give Matt a hug. “It has been a long time,” she said, stepping away. “We looked for you earlier but…”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Brenda said. “We were a bit late. For some reason our bedroom door won’t close properly. You know that thing that sticks out and catches on the lock? Well, it’s stuck inside so the door opens periodically on it’s own from the wind and what not. Very strange. Anyway, it’s been driving me nuts so Matt decided to look at it today and we lost track of time.” She shrugged.
“So, did you fix it?” Allen asked Matt?
Matt’s cheeks flushed. “No, Brenda pulled me away before I could figure it out.”
“Well, I’m glad you made it.” Julie pulled the conversation around. “How did you like the talk?”
“It was fabulous. It makes you want to go out and fix the world.” Brenda said.
“The unfortunate thing,” piped up Matt who, as an accountant, tended towards the practical, “is that by next week we’ll have forgotten the message and returned to our normal ways of thinking and acting.”
“And ignoring,” Julie agreed. There was a moment of silence as they all acknowledged the unfortunate truth of the sentiment. “So, what have you been up to lately?” she asked Matt.
“Work,” he replied. “I’ve just started a new account and it’s taking up a lot of time.”
“Speaking of that account,” Brenda cut in, “isn’t that Amanda over there?”
“Where?” They all looked where Brenda pointed.
A pretty young woman was standing surrounded by people. She was staring at their party, having already recognized her co-worker. When Matt waved to her she smiled and walked over.
“Hi Matt,” she said as she joined them. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me outside of work.”
“I’m always happy to see you. You’ve met my wife before, I believe.”
Amanda nodded and shook hands with Brenda. Her handshake was limp and brief.
“These are some friends of ours, Allen Peterson and Julie Sands. Julie works with Brenda at the library.”
Amanda shook hands with them before turning back to Matt.
“Were you able to finish the numbers for Max before going home last night?”
“Yes, but they didn’t work out quite the way he wanted so apparently we have to look over them again.”
“Again! But that’s the third proposal we’ve sent!”
Matt sighed. “I have to admit, this is probably the most demanding client I’ve ever had to deal with.”
Brenda, Julie and Allen seemed to realize at the same time that they weren’t included in this discussion and began talking about other issues.
“So I hear you’re trying to find Julie a husband.” Brenda said. Julie looked scandalized that her friend would mention it while Allen merely looked embarrassed.
“You’re telling your friends?” He accused.
“Well, it’s not like it’s some horrible secret or anything.”
“Yeah, well, no pressure, eh?” He’d never thought Julie would share this plan with others. He
thought she’d keep it to herself so he’d be the only one she’d talk to about her dates. He should have realized that she’d tell other people he was doing this for her. He didn’t realize until he was aware that it was out in the open how much he’d enjoyed the thought of having a secret with her. This plan was something they could share, an in joke no one else would be privy to. Not so, apparently. He had to share it with her girlfriends. Which once again made him realize that Julie thought of him as ‘one of the girls’.
“I have to admit,” Brenda continued, ignoring the sudden tension, “I don’t think it’s a terribly good plan. But I’m more than willing to sit back and see how things work out.”
“Oh, thank you very much.” Allen said. “Who could possibly fail with an endorsement like that.”
Matt cut into their conversation with, “what can’t you fail at?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Allen’s setting Julie up with some of his friends. It’s Julie’s way of dating without effort.”
“Hey, I still have to go on these dates you know. That qualifies as effort.”
“And it takes a lot of effort for her to look good.” Allen teased.
Julie slapped him lightly on the sleeve but her stern tone was rather undone by her laughter.
“I’m not that hopeless I’ll have you know.”
“Of course not or I wouldn’t be doing this.” He assured her.
“Where did… Ashley go?” Julie asked, trying to change the subject.
“Amanda? She went back to her group. She and a few friends are going to a bar after this.”
Allen turned and sure enough, the woman was back in her previous location though she seemed to be watching his group rather than paying attention to what her friends were saying. How odd.
“So, think you’ll have much luck?”
“What?” Allen asked, pulling his attention back to Matt.
“Finding someone for Julie.”
“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I hadn’t thought I could help.” It was true. Just because he was helping himself at the same time with this plan didn’t mean it wouldn’t help her too.
Matt simply looked at him, eyebrows raised. Finally he shook his head. “You’re braver than I am.”
Confused Allen asked, “Why’s that?”
“You wouldn’t catch me trying to set people up. That’s women’s business. Think about it. If you were a woman and another woman had set you up you’d simply let it go as a bad call. But it a man had set you up… You’d go back to him and run him into the ground because of it.”
“You really think so? I mean, what difference does it make who’s set you up? If it’s bad it’s bad and you move on. If it’s good…” He shrugged, not seeing a problem with this scheme.
“Trust me. Women are more forgiving of other women’s faults than they are a man’s. If a woman leaves the cap off the toothpaste it’s a mistake. If a man does it he’s a slob. It’s just the way things are.”
“Oh come on,” this time Julie cut in. “We’re not that bad. If Allen sets me up with someone I don’t like, I’ll deal with it. It’s not like I’m expecting to fall in love on the first date or something. This was only an idea and if it doesn’t work I’ll think of another one. I’m not going to hold Allen responsible for my happiness. I just thought as he knows more men than I do maybe he could help me get a few dates with guys who aren’t alcoholics and players.”
“Uh huh. Remember that when this plan backfires.”
“What makes you think it will?” Allen demanded.
Matt held up his hands in surrender and laughed. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Please, as you were.”
“We’d better get going.” Brenda said, tugging on Matt’s arm. “I’ve got to open the library tomorrow and there’s still a few things I need to get done at home tonight.”
The tension left as quickly as it came and they all smiled at each other as they said goodbye.
“Wait, Julie,” Allen called. “The first date’s all set up.” He said when she joined him.
“That was fast.”
“What, are you getting cold feet?”
“Not a chance.”
“Good. It’s this Friday. You’re to meet at Sound Smarts on Yonge. It’s an electronics store. Since you don’t know what each other look like, I’ve told him to bring a rose. If you bring one too you’ll be able to identify each other that way.”
“Sounds good.” She rubbed her hands together.
“Sure you’re not having second thoughts about this?” He asked, thinking of Matt’s words.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks Allen.” He waved and watched her walk off.
As Allen walked back to his apartment he thought about Matt’s words. Would he live to regret this? He wasn’t, after all, strictly following the plan as Julie saw it. Would it come up and bite him on the rear?
No. He’d thought it all through. And hadn’t Julie said she wasn’t expecting to fall in love right away? And that she wouldn’t blame him if she didn’t find the person she was looking for in one of these dates? It was just an idea. A way of meeting people. And if he used her idea to build on their already close relationship, well that would just help her see that he was a good man.
He nodded to himself. This plan would work.
* * *
Julie was a bit unsure the next day when she entered the hairdresser’s salon. She liked her long hair. She didn’t really feel like cutting any of it off, especially in the hopes of attracting men she hadn’t even met yet. But she’d agreed to follow Allen’s rules. And who knows, maybe Allen was right about this. Maybe cutting a few inches off would suddenly make her irresistible to men. She laughed at the thought. The two people sitting inside turned to look at her as if she were crazy. Well, laughing for no discernable reason looked pretty crazy, she supposed At least it did in Toronto.
She went to the desk and talked to the sales clerk.
“Do you have an appointment?” The woman behind the counter asked.
“No. I’m not in a hurry so whenever someone’s free that’ll be great.”
“Did you have a particular stylist in mind?”
“Nope.”
“Alright. Have a seat. It’ll probably be about twenty minutes.”
Julie sat down and started flipping through some magazines. She didn’t want to do anything fancy but it was nice to imagine. Everything seemed to be pointing at short hair this season, a length she thought would look horrible on her. Depending on how it was styled. She wasn’t too keen on spending hours every morning curling or straitening her hair. Nor did she like using lots of gel or hairspray. Her hair was long with a bit of a wave and she loved it as it was.
She almost got up to leave as she was called over by one of the hairdressers. The man seated her and asked what she wanted done.
“Just a trim.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, stroking her hair. “It’s beautiful, but you’d look great with a really short cut, don’t you think?”
She paused before answering so it would look like she was considering the idea. I guess they like it when they’re allowed to play around with your hair. Doing whatever they think would look good. Too bad I think I’d look good with nothing more than a trim. “Sorry, I’m not that brave. I don’t really want to cut it at all, but I thought a trim, to straighten it and get rid of split ends…”
“Oh, I doubt you have split ends,” he said, checking. “Seems like you’re taking good care of it. Well, there are a few. Sure I can’t change your mind?”
“Quite.”
He frowned in disappointment. She saw him shrug before he asked, “How much were you thinking of cutting?”
“Two inches.”
“Then let’s go.” He brought her over to the sinks and washed her hair and then back to the chair for the trim. He took off three inches instead of two, but she had to admit that it did look good when he was done. The ends curled a bit making it look shoulder length. She could still tie it back, which was the main thing.
“Do you like it?” He asked, using a hand mirror to show her the back.
“I do.” She moved her head to see as much of the back and sides as she could. “I really like it. Thanks.”
She left him a tip and then paid for the cut feeling much better about the whole thing.
Because of the talk they went to Allen wasn’t coming over for movie night. That gave Julie time to stress about the upcoming date. It was probably a good thing Allen wasn’t here, she reflected. He’d be bored to tears with her hopes and dreams for this plan.
She wasn’t going to buy new clothes for this, so when she got home she went through her wardrobe. She had several colourful tops which she’d long ago consigned to the back of her closet. She fished them out and looked them over. One of them was too hideous to wear. It was a gift she’d ‘forgotten’ about and never worn. She threw it away so she wouldn’t be tempted.
From the clothes left over, two shirts were a little baggy so she put them away again. The others fit well and would add to her regular day wear of black and white tops. She still wasn’t convinced that coloured blouses were a better choice for these dates than a t-shirt and sweater. She’d feel more formal though. Maybe that was the idea. What had Allen said? Have confidence. She snorted. Wearing these she’d feel like she was going to a job interview. Hadn’t Allen joked that her list looked like interview criteria? Wouldn’t it be better if she was comfortable rather than sexy? She looked at the clothes. Probably not. If men really go first for looks rather than personality the ‘unbuttonable shirt’ was definitely the way to go. She shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It felt like she was getting ready to auction herself off or something. She could even picture it. ‘Can we have a bid on the next slab of meat? It cooks, it speaks three languages, it looks sexy in a red blouse with a short black skirt.’ With hands only raising at the last criteria.
She shook her head to dislodge the image and pulled out a few dresses. One, a black silk Chinese dress she put back. She doubted she’d have a use for that one. She’d worn it to her university graduation. And wished the whole time she’d worn pants. It was too grand for the kinds of first dates she was expecting. She put the other dresses back as well. She’d definitely feel more comfortable in pants, regardless of what kind of top she wore.
She sighed. She wanted to find a decent man. She wanted a man who loved her for her mind and her abilities. It annoyed her that she felt she had to pander to society’s image of women, dressed to the nines with impeccable make-up and a model’s body. The body was definitely out. The make-up she could swing and the clothes. But she knew she wasn’t the type of women who turns men’s heads. She was average, ordinary. That’s why she needed help finding men.
She sat down on the bed feeling sorry for herself. Why couldn’t she find a decent guy on her own? Why did she have to resort to a ploy to meet men? Where were they all hiding? Surely the good ones weren’t all married.
She stood up again. Moaning and complaining about it wasn’t going to help her find a man either. That’s why she’d come up with a tangible plan. Once you had a plan things worked out. She’d had a plan for getting through school and finding a library job and those had both turned out the way she’d wanted. Finding a husband would be the same. She’d apply herself to the hunt and a few months from now she’d be able to look back on all the guys she’d dated and pick out a few she wanted to get to know better.
It was a start. And the longest journey started with a single step.
She chose the outfit she was going to wear on her date Tomorrow. The first steps were done.
Now the fun began.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Spelling
It's tough trying to get a foot in as an author when you're not the best speller. There's only so much help spell check can give. Sometimes the errors are simple typos. Sometimes they're not. The odd thing is, you can read quite well over the errors without (for the most part) losing the meaning. Yes, there are times when a letter seriously affects the meaning of the word, at which point you lose a lot of credibility, but it's amazing how much you can read with typos.
I read a chain email once that, using typos, explained that humans only need the first and last letters of a word to be correct for their brains to tell them the words, even if all the other letters are scrambled. Incredible. And yet, as impressive as our brains are, we like words spelled properly. It drives me nuts when I see posts using short forms that don't 'officially' exist. Or even non short forms, that just seem 'cool'.
And it's strange. When I read books (and other things) I hate finding typos. It feels like the person was being sloppy when, in fact, their eyes probably passed over the words, reading them as if they were spelled correctly. And it's so easy to miss letters and mistype them yourself. I find with my own work I often have to let it sit for a while and then print it out to find typos. If I edit on the computer I tend to read what I want the words to be rather than what they are.
In the writing business it's important to catch spelling mistakes before you post or submit work though. Editors look for any reason to disregard you, and bad spelling - even just one typo - seems to be a favourite reason to send work to the discard pile. It almost doesn't seem fair. Yet, from their point of view, if you have one typo you'll surely have more...
So, does anyone have tips on editing so that they can catch these tiny (or not so tiny) errors? Do you use spell check, beta readers, let the work rest for a while or some other tactics?
I read a chain email once that, using typos, explained that humans only need the first and last letters of a word to be correct for their brains to tell them the words, even if all the other letters are scrambled. Incredible. And yet, as impressive as our brains are, we like words spelled properly. It drives me nuts when I see posts using short forms that don't 'officially' exist. Or even non short forms, that just seem 'cool'.
And it's strange. When I read books (and other things) I hate finding typos. It feels like the person was being sloppy when, in fact, their eyes probably passed over the words, reading them as if they were spelled correctly. And it's so easy to miss letters and mistype them yourself. I find with my own work I often have to let it sit for a while and then print it out to find typos. If I edit on the computer I tend to read what I want the words to be rather than what they are.
In the writing business it's important to catch spelling mistakes before you post or submit work though. Editors look for any reason to disregard you, and bad spelling - even just one typo - seems to be a favourite reason to send work to the discard pile. It almost doesn't seem fair. Yet, from their point of view, if you have one typo you'll surely have more...
So, does anyone have tips on editing so that they can catch these tiny (or not so tiny) errors? Do you use spell check, beta readers, let the work rest for a while or some other tactics?
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