(Written on November 8th in coffee shop at Powell’s City of Books in downtown Portland, 11:40am)
I spend too much money on books. But I can’t help it. I LOVE books more than mint chocolate chip ice cream and a trip to Paris combined!
Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I really do love them. My dream is to have a library in my house. When my husband’s office is done and I can move into his little cubby hole of a room, I’m going to make it a library. Of course, I am going to share the space with our new baby boy and his basinnet (the room has a convenient door attached to our bedroom) for quite a while so he and his older brother can get some sleep. Eventually, Baby Scribe will share a room with Little Scribe, but for the time being he’ll be sleeping in “the library.” I wonder if he’ll end up loving books as much as Little Scribe does, and Little Scribe never slept in a library! (Okay, maybe when I dragged him to public libraries for my research when he was still in his infant car seat. And there were all those bookstores we went to, and still do go to…)
Didn’t get any writing done today, only a lot of VERY satisfying book browsing and purchasing. The purchases definitely have to do with my historical fiction novel-in-progress, at least, so that’s good. Three art books and two travel guides. Not bad. These books have helped me to get excited about working on the novel again, which is good because it’s been more than six months (I was revising my fantasy middle grade to resubmit). I’ve been really feeling far, far away from the story, and all of my notes and research that I gathered in the past, though important and helpful, didn’t seem to be inspiring me to write. These new books have given me the boost I need.
Art books from the period you are writing about are really a great tool to use when fleshing out stories. I feel more like a detective than a writer when I am looking through them, as if I were peeping in on history. I am constantly searching for my characters’ faces and clothing as well as for landscapes and all sorts of historic details that come to life in a drawing or painting. I need that visual stimulus to really feel immersed in the period. I’ve checked out quite a few books from the library, but Powell’s had different ones at good prices that really made my fingers itch to write.
I know, I know… I just need to keep my bum in the chair…to lock myself in a room with my computer, notes, books, and drafts and finish the goose-livered draft. December is the deadline I've created for myself (Last December was, too. Hmm…) If I don’t finish the draft then I think I’ll go crazy with all of the other story ideas that I have racing around in my brain. Mostly they are two to one—two fantasies for every one historical fiction idea, which is funny because I never think of myself as a “fantasy writer.” I don’t only read fantasies. I love and read most genres-- historical fiction, chic lit., realistic fiction, mysteries, and fantasies. But three fairy tale retellings are scouring my brain right now along with one magical realism tale and two historical fiction ideas.
Time is ticking away. I should get a plastic flip-top crate for my novel information/ research and lug it around with me like a ball and chain. Of course, that’s kind of impossible for a woman whose been told by her OBGYN to stay off her feet as much as possible. Maybe my husband can lug it around for me. I couldn’t even carry my computer bag around Powell’s and had to leave it in the car, plus make one trip to the car to unload a bag of books (out of my two bags of purchases).
I’ve been feeling a bit crampy on the left side. Should sit down when I get home. Little Scribe and I might be visiting Burgerville on the way home from The Play Boutique today. When am I ever going to go grocery shopping? Need to make that list, and then maybe Daddy Scribe will go. That would be a real life-saver.
Tried the hot chocolate trick to see if I could feel Baby Scribe kick. I do a little bit, about the same as I did earlier today. I hope he’s okay in there. I’m obsessed with worry about whether or not he’s moving enough everyday.
Which week am I, anyway? 25 or 26? I’ve forgotten now. I don’t remember if I’m going to turn 26 or 27 weeks on Friday. I think I’m turning 26 weeks. Should I look up how much movement I should be feeling?
I hope everything with the baby turns out okay. I feel like Baby Scribe is more of a miracle than Little Scribe because of all the worrying I’ve been doing before he’s even born that I didn’t have with Little Scribe.
Oooh, just felt a good little kick there. Are you in there, Baby Scribe? Are you comfortable? Need anything? More hot cocoa? How about Shannon Hale's newest novel?
Both of my children are definitely miracles, but I have to admit that it was nice to be in ignorant bliss before Little Scribe surprised us with his early arrival.
Losing steam on my journal writing. Off to pick up Little Scribe…
No comments:
Post a Comment