What century is it?

I had a phone call this morning. It took me a minute to understand what the caller wanted.

“I’m sorry,” I said contritely. “I had to get my head out of the 19th century.” I’m not sure she knew what I meant, but if you’ve ever been reading an engrossing story, only to jerked back to the real world by an interruption such as a phone call or a child crying, you will understand the disconnect. It’s the same with writing.

I had been working on my novel, which takes place in 1820, and at the moment the phone rang I was wondering just what a person back then would put on a bruise and a nasty gash. After I answered the caller’s question, I went back to work.

Unfortunately, Google could not solve my problem. I’m sure people without access to the Mayo Clinic or its 200-year-old equivalent had plenty of home remedies, but it will take more research to find out.

I think some writers do all the research they will need before beginning their novel. Others may do research when and as they need it. I like to finish the story and then go back and fill in the gaps if I can’t find what I need right away. Stopping to look up a cure or a fashion detail can lead to hours spent musing over different websites, each one leading me down another path until I realize I’ve wasted hours reading information that, while fascinating, will never find a place in my story.

Distractions such as phone calls or enticing detours are the pitfalls of writing from home. I could take the phone off the hook (at least my landline, which most of my friends use). But then they would simply call my cell phone. If I managed to ignore that, they would worry and come knocking on the door to see if I was all right, so that wouldn’t work.

As for getting lost in research, that is my own fault and I know I need to be more disciplined. It’s too easy to type in a few words and see the wealth of information that pops up.  Back when the world and I were younger, finding out an elusive fact meant getting into the car and going to the library, filling out a slip of paper to hand to the librarian, waiting for her to bring you a book, taking the volume to a table, and then copying what you needed into a notebook.

There are days when I think I need to rent a cabin for a week and take with me only a couple of pens and some paper. No phone, no Internet, no books or television. I’d be forced to write without interruption.

But honestly, I don’t think I’d last a day.  There are only so many hours you can spend in a book whether you are reading it or writing it.  You have to come back to the real world eventually.

We just want our return to be on our terms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Summer … bugs or books?

I don’t know what the temperature is your way, but here  in North Carolina it is hot! I mean, in the nineties hot.

Too hot to work outdoors, which I love doing in the summer.  But after a bout with both poison ivy and an allergic reaction to a couple of mosquito bites, I don’t plan on doing much yard work without a hazmat suit.

As you all know, the really best thing about summer is reading. And when the weather is hot and humid, I like to find a cool corner, a glass of iced tea, and a book. Doesn’t matter if it is an e-book or print. I am like a voter who refuses to pledge allegiance to either party.

I like getting messages in my inbox every morning from BookBub and Ereader News Today. I read the blurbs and sometimes click on the book to read more on Amazon — in particular, the reviews. You can also read a few pages of the book to get a sense of the author’s style.  I like the free books, naturally, but I do buy some. I’ve found a lot of great, new authors this way.

But, I do love to visit the library and peruse the shelves to see what’s been added since my last visit. Sometimes I score with a new book from a favorite writer. The librarians are helpful in telling me what other people thought of a book (reviews!) and often ask me what my opinion is. I come home with my tote bag full and settle in, usually with one of the cats on my lap.

Another place to find books are used book stores. We don’t have one near me, but when I visit one of my kids (who all live in bigger cities) that is one place we can mutually agree on making a stop.

And, when a really, really favorite author comes out with a new book I buy it simply because I want to a) support them and b) because I like owning a book I know I will read again. When my shelves get full, I go through and pick out those I know I won’t re-read or maybe didn’t love all that much after I read it, or were given and told to share after I finished reading them. These go to the senior center bookshelf, which is like a Little Free Library.

I know people who think summer is for swimming, hiking, boating, and other physical activities. Good for them and I hope they remember their sunscreen and bug repellent.

I’ll take a comfy chair and a good book any time.

 

 

 

It’s always the season for books

While I love September and the onset of Autumn, there is also a feeling of sadness.  On the one hand, every beautiful day is a gift, for the next may bring cold weather, snow or sleet. So we cherish it, hanging on to each hour and minute. We take one more trip to the beach or mountains before packing up our summer paraphernalia for another season.

On the other hand, we know the clock is ticking, the leaves are falling, and winter will soon be here. It’s difficult to keep those thoughtstumblr_n169124Rsc1re1snbo1_500 from encroaching, even on the most blue-skied, sunshine-filled, dazzling day.

And so we feel just the slightest tinge of melancholy. Or maybe not. Maybe you are one of those people who love winter. You are waxing your skis, checking out the snowmobile, sharpening the skate blades in happy anticipation of those first, fat flakes of snow.

Not me. I’m airing my quilt, stocking up on hot chocolate, and loading my e-reader with books. I know what I’m doing this winter.

But in the meantime, there are wonderful sunny days ahead to enjoy and I don’t intend to let impending doom Winter spoil them. The Earth spins and each season has its turn. Maybe you favor one over the other, or maybe you take each one as it comes with its own special wonder.

Meantime, there are books.And I don’t even have to wait for Winter. I have a deck and a  comfy chair where I can watch the first leaves fall, the hummingbirds fill up for their annual migration, and the butterflies get drunk on the fermenting persimmons.

And read.

 

 

 

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