Category: Writer

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Gr8xpectations

If you’ve been following along, you know my husband and I spend the worst of winter in Costa Rica. Now spring is here and our days in this beautiful country are drawing down, but we haven’t lost our adventuresome spirit.

For the past two years, we have heard about a Farmers’ Market just twenty minutes from our home, so we decided to check it out. Have you ever been to CR? It is LUSH with bananas, plantains, mangos, pineapple, cantaloupe, rice, sugar cane, coffee, and more. Boy did I have great expectations!

That’s not really a surprise though, it’s the story of my life. Hell, Gr8xpectations used to be my email address ~ not kidding. I don’t think anyone has gotten their feelings hurt more than I have (at least it seems that way). I always hope for the best, give people the benefit of the doubt, and generally count on people staying true to their word. The older I get though, the more I understand how life really works. Soon I will be cynical, skeptical, and pessimistic like the rest of you.

Ok, so today. The Farmers’ Market? Should have been called a Farmer’s Market. No joke. One (American) lady had one basket with a few heads of lettuce and some cucumbers. That was it. I don’t even LIKE cucumbers! Apparently there’s a “real, local” farmers’ market on Fridays in “the city” but we missed it. Guess we’ll try again next year.

But, think about it. Don’t we all carry expectations with us to some degree as we go on vacation/buy a new book/go to a movie/order a nice meal? Sure we do. We hope and expect things to be fun, good, or entertaining, especially if we’re spending time and money on them.

So here’s what I’m wondering about:

Why is it that we’re more likely to be let down by a “good” book that isn’t “as great as they said”, and we really enjoy work that had low expectations? Same goes for movies like Little Miss Sunshine and Sideways. They were small films that had huge box office and critical success.

This is actually encouraging news for me. Since I don’t have an MFA, since I haven’t written a blockbuster yet, and I spent most of my working life as an art dealer, the expectations for my debut novel probably won’t be too high, except my own of course. I won’t be happy until I’ve written the best book possible, one that perhaps Charles Dickens would be impressed with. Or maybe William Faulkner. He once said: “The only thing worth writing about is the conflict in the human heart.” That is exactly what my novels are about.

Meanwhile, I’ve really got my hopes up for the Farmers’ Market in Des Moines; it’s enormous, plentiful, and only one block from our home. It will be great!

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Man, I crack myself up!

Who, exactly, am I kidding when I say I’m going to blog more often about fathers, sons, and brothers?

Pretty soon I’m gonna get in trouble. Someone’s gonna tell me I need to take this whole writing thing a little more seriously, or else I’ll lose my blogging privileges. Ok, I tried, but I’m sorry, I can’t carry on a deep, serious, heavily researched blog about interactions of the human male. Just can’t do it.

Here is all we need to know about men:
They want sex.
They want their woman to respect them.
They want to be fed and cared for when they’re sick.
They want the one person with whom to share their secrets, the one who’ll tell them (repeatedly) they’re great, to never use their insecurities against them.
They want more sex.

And if you do all of the above, they’ll forgive a lot of little stuff, like shopping.

Can we move on now?

I have written two novels with a male protagonist, On A Midnight Street and The King Family. The best and only way I can prove that I know a little something about the male half of the human population, is to get published and let you be the judge from my novels. I promise you all, I’m working on that the best I can. I’m writing six days a week, editing out all the superfluous words, and when it’s sleek and shiny, I will submit my work to the appropriate agents. When the stars align, you’ll be able to find my books at your local Barnes & Noble.

Here’s the only secret most men will never share (don’t ask how I know this). They’re just as sensitive as us women, they just won’t admit it. So in case I’ve hurt anyone’s feelings, I’m truly sorry. “You’re great. Really, you’re the best. You’re so strong and smart and rich. I mean it! I can tell it’s true because you’re reading my blog.”

Fortunately, my husband really is the best, so this stuff is easy for me.

Ok, back to having fun! Stay tuned to see what ridiculous things I fixate on tomorrow.

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Can’t – Stand – The – PRESSURE!

A few days ago, I figured out how to add a Page Counter to my blog. Now I can see how many people actually look at my web site. Cool! I have already learned that either I have more fans than I realized, or I have a stalker with twitchy fingers!

Fans? OMG, the pressure!

Ten days ago I made a promise to write more about fathers, sons, and families. Since then, I’ve developed stage fright, writer’s block, broken fingers, a terrible case of the flu… something! All I know is inspiration has fled.

I can tell you my step-daughter just gave birth to our first grandchild ~ a boy, of course! That’s kept me terribly (wonderfully) busy just looking at the pictures. Mother, baby, and father are all doing great, thanks for asking.

But the truth is, friends, I’ve been editing. Last weekend, I finished the first draft of my manuscript for The King Family, 82,000 words (300 pages), and now the tough work begins. Writing the first draft is the EASY part. Polishing it for submission separates the King family from the girls with dragon tattoos. (Plus, I’ve become obsessed with Twitter. If you haven’t tried it, you owe it to yourself to see what it’s all about.)(Then you can follow me there, as well.)(I’m quite funny when I can’t ramble on for more than 140 characters.)(Really!)

My mother, who holds a PhD in higher education, gave me the best editing advice I’ve ever received. Read the book backwards, she said, sentence by sentence, so you don’t get caught up in the story. That’s tough to do, but well worth it, even thought it takes a lot of time.

Anyway, I’ve been busy, not neglectful, but I do owe you all a post about MEN.

I’ll see what brilliance I can come up with as soon as I forget about the geiger counter on my blog page.

(Thanks for all the visits!)

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Honor and Onward

As I write this, I am anxiously awaiting two phone calls. My step-daughter is in the hospital in labor about to give birth to our first grandchild. That’s the good news. I am also preparing myself to hear sad news about a dear lady as she fights a malignant brain tumor. One birth and one death. The circle of life.

This wonderful woman is the mother of my closest childhood friend. She was nearly as important to me as my own mother during my formative years. As active as anyone I’ve ever known, she and her husband traveled the world over, and she could tell tales from each trip. A gardener, a cook, an intellectualist, a mother, she was marvelous at all she did. Now she’s fighting a battle she can’t win.

In my current novel, The King Family, one of my characters, a wise old woman named Rose, speaks to her nephew about grief as she counsels him over the loss of a loved one. “You will miss her your whole life, but you can’t miss your whole life because of her,” she tells him. “Honor and onward, that’s my motto.”

News of the horrendous earthquake and subsequent tsunami in Japan is everywhere today. I cannot fathom the loss and destruction the Japanese people are experiencing as I sit in my home and write. Many of them won’t be able to put their lives on hold to grieve for their loved ones. They have no choice but to rebuild their homes and businesses as they mourn the loss of husbands, wives, and children. They must push on even as they cry. Honor and onward.

Dave Matthews has a song, “Funny the Way It Is”, that talks about the ironies in life. One line says: Funny the way it is, not right or wrong/ On a soldier’s last breath, his baby’s being born. Not funny at all, if you think about it, but of course that’s the point. It’s the circle of life.

As I anticipate the birth of our newest family member, I am saddened by the impending loss of an amazing woman whom I was lucky to have known. I will honor her always, and move onward to love my grandchild the way she loved me.

Honor and onward.

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Fathers, Sons, and Brothers

As you faithful followers know, when I’m not writing, I’m reading. I read novels and I read about writing. I read blogs and web sites and twitter and newspapers. Read, read, read, that’s what I do.

Recently I have found many articles (coincidence or a message?) about blogging. Everyone has advice about blogging, and some of it I actually think makes sense.

I’m not quite ready to sell advertising on this blog (though if you want to pay me money, I’ll surely take it), but apparently I’m supposed to refine my subject matter a bit. All this time I thought the blog was supposed to be about me. Nope, it’s supposed to be about my subject matter, my field of expertise! Who knew?

If I wrote non-fiction, say How to Deliver Your Own Baby to Save Cash (which I did once)(accidentally, not to save money), then I should blog about “The Importance of Having Clean Towels Handy at All Times”, or “Why You Should Wait Till After Your Baby Is Born to Clean Your Carpets”. But I don’t write non-fiction, I write novels.

The King Family is the story of a man who runs from his own troubles straight into those his father buried fifty years ago.

Aha! I should blog about Fathers, Sons, and Brothers.

I’m sure you know by now, I have four sons and one step-son. I have a husband, a father, a brother, six nephews, an ex-husband, and even a male dog. And I, the lone female in my house, am the observer. I watch. I take notes. I “borrow”. I am continually and ever more deeply obsessed with the interactions of the male species, not always easy, rarely pretty.

Nothing fascinates me more, nor is more prevalent in my life, than my family. Ok, so I will try to blog more often about the interpersonal interactions between male family members ~ without revealing personal details. Don’t worry guys, you know I love you.

When I get really smart and brave, I’ll tackle mothers and daughters.

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…juicy…

You’re so vain, I’ll bet you think this book is about you. Don’t you?

My favorite part of writing novels is finding out how they end. I am now 72,000 words (240 pages) into the first draft of The King Family, and tensions are rising, but I still don’t know how it ends! I don’t know what’s going to happen between Danny and Gretchen, or even Danny and Louis. (Though I’m pretty sure Danny and Louis won’t hook up.)

Every good writer steals. So in my attempt to be a good writer, I’ve become a master thief! Mostly I try to steal from real life ~ it is so bleeping entertaining once you start paying attention. I eavesdrop, I spy, I take notes, I even take photos. I also steal from the writers who’ve come before me, the ones I admire most. Then I sit down to write and write and write. When it’s time to write the opening line, paragraph, and first page of my novel (usually after I’m about 50,000 words into it and I really know what it’s about), I study the first pages of a dozen or more of my favorites and the classics, and put myself in the mindset of the great authors of the world. Then I let my fingers do the talking.

But I also use the little brain in my head to conjure up memories and people I’ve known throughout my life. This is going to be the interesting part when my book is published. Yesterday, one humorous scene that I wrote was based on a couple I recently saw in the San Jose, Costa Rica airport. My husband and I were on our way to Panama, and sitting right behind us was an older man (65?) and a young, beautiful woman, perhaps Indonesian, who had apparently just landed in Central America. She couldn’t have been over 25. It soon became obvious that she was a “mail-order bride” and he was a pervert. I don’t know how else to say it. The man was an American, probably former military of some sort. He had pasty white skin, about 30 extra pounds, and he was drooling. Ok, the drooling was figurative, but he was gross.

So I used that delicious scene in my book, but by the time I was finished, I realized that people who know me are going to imagine that man as someone whom I know. (No, I don’t hang out with pasty white perverts ~ I adapted him a bit.) But it wasn’t anyone from my past, I swear! <wink, wink>

The King Family is getting juicy, but it’s not a memoir, it’s not a tell-all, it’s fiction. If I was going to write about my real life, it would include sun and skin and sweat. I would mention sunsets, cerveza, and ceviche. It would tell about an obsessive writer who is trying to learn enough Spanish to impress Maria, her cleaning lady ~ I am in Costa Rica after all.

No, my novel takes place mostly in Wyoming, of all the gin joints in all the world…

Whoo! I think the heat is getting to me.

Oh, well. Hasta luego!

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“Working” Vacation PROGRESS REPORT

STUDENT: _____Karolyn Sherwood_____________________________

SUBJECT: ______Fiction 101________________________________

STATUS: ______unpublished (for now)_______________________________

Creativity: A+ (Exemplary writing talent. How does she make this stuff up?)

Productivity: B+ (63,000 words in her novel is good, but 3 hours wasted to make a video about a dancing stick? Was that necessary?)

Penmanship: A+ (Every single letter she makes is perfect and precisely the same, even the italics. Uncanny.)

Behavior: B- (She needs to quit laughing so much and learn to focus. Have you considered Ritalin?)(We also think she can work more than 4 hours/day.)

Ability to Focus: B- (see above reference to stick videos, also Post dated 1/27/11.) (Did she have a signed permission slip to go on that field trip? We can’t find it in our records.)

________________________________________________________________
Response from Student:

Dear Critic, oh how I’ve been waiting to defend myself! But first, thank you for noticing my writing is “exemplary.” I believe honest, unique, and confident would also be accurate, but I’ll take “exemplary”.

Second, 63,000 words is nothing to scoff at! That’s over 200 pages. When I arrived in Costa Rica, The King Family was about 45,000 words. That means I’ve written nearly 20,000 words in 5 weeks ~ whew! (I need a coffee break just thinking about that!) As for the field trips, even though my book has nothing to do with crocodiles, iguanas, birds, or bats, field trips are important to fuel my creativity. The same goes for floating in the pool every afternoon. Just because I’m not at my computer does not mean I’m not thinking about my story. I’m kinda like a lawyer that way ~ I could have 14 billable hours/day if I could just find someone to pay me for this stuff.

Last but not least… I have read six books on this vacation (plus two in progress):

The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
Moonlight Mile by Dennis Lehane
Bad Dirt by Annie Proulx
Freedom by Jonathan Franzen
A Visit From the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan
Look Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe (200 pages in)
The Death Instinct by Jed Rubenfeld (100 pages in)

AND, dear Critic, I have also written the outline for my next novel. It is percolating on a back burner, and I’m SO excited to get started on it. Plus, I read ABOUT writing every morning, how to improve my skills, like how to create crafty characters, and how to sneak alliterations into my work. Perhaps you could reconsider my Productivity score? I’d hate to lose my Twitter privileges for bad grades!

So, the next time you send me a “Working” Vacation Progress Report, please consider calling it: Working “Vacation” Progress Report.

Best regards, ks

One final question, where does one get this Ritalin stuff?

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James Patterson, Save Me!

It’s easy to see how a writer can get distracted. “They” say that a writer dreams of the day he or she can escape to a mountain top to gaze over the ocean to write his/her masterpiece. Well, hello? Who among us could be plopped down in a foreign country and NOT want to explore a bit? It’s a different world here in Costa Rica, and there’s so much to see and do. Put me in a dark quiet room someplace boring! (I did not mention Des Moines.) (Jail wouldn’t be so bad if I had Internet access.)

I’ve been happily ensconced in my “office away from home” writing away. The first draft of my novel, The King Family, is now over 55,000 words (nearly 200 pages). On a good day, I write 1500 words, on a really good day I write maybe 2500. On a bad day, I take out most of those. At this rate, I could be finished with a strong first draft by the time we go home to friends, family, and freezing rain. (Please, no freezing rain in April!)

So what’s the problem? And why the hell would you ask James Patterson for help?
Excellent questions.

I have a good friend, Larassa Kabel. She’s my John Galt. Larassa is an extremely talented artist, one whom I formerly represented. (www.larassakabel.com) We usually meet once a month for coffee, and she alone can recharge me when I begin to flounder in my long trek toward “published author.” If only I were as good at writing as she is at painting! Anyway, she once told me that the really good inspirations we creative types get are the ones that you can’t get out of your head no matter what else is going on in life. That’s how an artist/writer knows what project to devote their precious time to. So, I have one of those.

Last June, my husband and I went to NYC to visit two of my sons, Ryan and Elliott. One night, a friend of Ryan’s joined us, Ariel. Ariel looks a lot like my son Ryan except for one distinction. I sat across the table from these young men and thought they looked like twins, with this one exception. I jotted a note to myself about my observation and thought ‘no big deal’. Ok, so that little note has become the idea that won’t leave my head! Those four words have germinated into a novel that begs to be written, complete with characters, names, places, crises, multiple crises. Now what am I supposed to do?! Whatever happened to writer’s block? I need to write faster! I need James Patterson to be my co-author!
(ooh,ooh, just kidding)

Anyway, that’s my life in a few sentences (450 words). That, and my husband and I just bought one way tickets to Panamá. We fully intend to come back, but…

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Where Her Great Novel Was Born

This view look familiar to anyone besides me? Wayne and I are back in Costa Rica, the same house where we stayed for one month last year; we’re staying 2 1/2 months this year. The same town, the same villa, the same view, the same routine. We’ve been here almost 48 hours. Our refrigerator is now full of food, our vegetable basket overflows with onions, garlic, potatoes, plantains, and limes. Yes, pico de gallo will be made soon. Fried plantains will be served at dinner.

It’s interesting to be back in the same place for a second time. I’ve never wanted to own a second home, a vacation home. I love to travel, see different places, see the planet. Why go back, repeatedly, to ONE place when there are so many others waiting for me?

Why? I’ll tell you why! (Now I know.) This year, there’s no culture shock. We know a few people, we know where the grocery stores are (and what items are cheapest in each store), and where to buy good meat. Yesterday, we went to the distribution center that sells beef and pork to savvy shoppers and to the restaurants near here. Mmm, real beef.

This morning, less than 48 hours into our trip. I’m already ensconced in my “office.” This is where The King Family will be written. This is where it was conceived last year, except, true to my form, it started out under a different name Left on Blue. And, if I can take a moment to make fun of myself, it very well might change names again. You gotta keep up, people!

In some regards, it feels as if we never left; in another regard, we’re marveling at how many restaurants have changed hands. My husband is now free to contemplate life (“Anything but Groundhog’s day in Des Moines, Iowa, please!”) (I told him, if we keep coming back here, one day it will feel like Groundhog’s day in Costa Rica, but he said that doesn’t sound so bad.) I will be writing in the mornings, reading in the afternoons, and swimming in between. I am currently in the middle of Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections as well as Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking. I HOPE they influence my writing!

I will also squeeze in a few blog posts to keep you up on my progress. This blog holds me accountable! Feel free to comment, PLEASE! I like this quiet life, but already miss my friends. Adios, amigos. Tener un buen dia!

P.S. See that rocking chair in my “office.” It creeps me out. Like there’s a ghost sitting there, facing me, watching me. If it starts rocking, holy cow, I don’t know what I’ll do. I have just decided that Aunt Rose (from the King Family) will have a rocking chair. You heard it here first.

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Ten Weeks to Live (it up)

That’s me on the surfboard.

Ah, who am I kidding? I can’t even swim. Seriously. Well, I’ve never drowned, but I’ve only had one swim lesson in my entire life, and it wasn’t pretty.

Tomorrow morning, before breakfast, before coffee (!), I will be on a plane to Costa Rica. My husband HATES the Iowa winters, and I’m lucky enough to be invited to tag along when he heads for warmer climes. We’ll be gone for ten weeks.

So what would you do for TEN WEEKS? My husband is one of those people who can sit still, watch the Pacific Ocean, and contemplate life. I’m not. I’ll be taking my laptop (of course), my iPad, (of course) (my husband has one, too… we both plan on reading a ton of books). But this year, I actually bought a Speedo swim suit, a swim cap, and goggles. I’m going to SWIM! I figure, if fish can teach themselves how to swim, so can I. The good news our villa has a private pool (please see Dec. 8th post: Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Lucky). I’ll be able to swim laps without anyone around to laugh.

I will also be working on my new book, The King Family. I have officially put On A Midnight Street to bed. “Good night, sweet book. Your agent will find you one day, I promise.”

It seems I do have a plan… My last post said I’m not making any plans. That’s the best part of being me ~ when I look back on my life, even one day ago, I provide myself with so much to laugh at. I make ridiculous, declarative statements, then I do the opposite. Oh well. That’s me.

All right. Off to finish packing. It’s 92 degrees in Costa Rica right now. This time tomorrow, the sand between my toes won’t be from what the dog drags in from our snowy sidewalks. It will be from the Pacific Ocean.

Ah….