When I can’t begin to find the words
Category: Life as I know it
Writers Off Task With Friends, Show 18: Author/Blogger Allie Potts
I’d like to extend my thanks once again to Dan, Jenny, and Allison for having me on Writers Off Task With Friends. While my connection speed that day made it seem as if I was vying to be the next Max Headroom, I want to repeat how great it was to talk with all of you.
Author-blogger-mom Allie Potts joins the trio for a hilarious and educational interview before facing off with Jenny in our challenge to be named Best Author Of The Week.
This Week’s Topics Include:
- What’s your writing process?
- When/how do you find time to write
- An Uncertain Faith – semi autobiographical?
- The Fair & Foul – amazing blurbs – do you write them yourself? Will you write mine?
- Sarcastic and funny blog post: What to do when the cloud is not your friend
Tip for new writers: formatting for eBook and paperback
Best Author Of The Week Challenge
- Some say writing is a calling. What do you think? Why do you write?
- What was the worst writing scene you ever did?
- What is your most favorite place on Earth? Did you put it in a story? Why or why not?
If this looks fun to you, JOIN US!
Writers Off Task With…
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Step one in the plan to take over the world
What’s this? Mom left her computer screen open. How convenient… It is I, the one and only LT and first of my name. You are also welcome to address me as your Future Supreme Leader of the World or the Exalted Captain Volcano Thunderclap as it is now only a matter of time before I assume my rightful place at the top of the world order. Let it not be said that I don’t offer choices. I am magnanimous that way.
Don’t listen to my brother. He is cray-cray. I also know he’s not supposed to be on the computer. I’m allowed to though because I’m the responsible one.
Kiddo? How? No, that doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m not cray-cray! The world is better off under my rule. I am serious! Picture it. Books and stuffed animals stacked as high as you could reach. More chocolate, ice cream, and all the milk you can drink. There will be mandatory bubble breaks for all and a swing set in every yard. It will be glorious. And those are just a few examples of the benefits of having me in charge. It will be the dawn of a new age of peace and prosperity.
Mom says you aren’t supposed to play on her computer. It’s one of the rules.
I don’t need mom’s permission to address the public. She writes about us all the time and never once asked my permission. Besides, they are my future subjects and they love me.
But I like it when mom writes about us. She’s making us famous. I think I should tell.
I see. You want to do this the hard way… Okay. If you tattle, I’ll tell her all about how you were playing Minecraft when you were supposed to be doing your homework or how you were the one to leave the LEGOs out last where mom and dad could step on them. Again. When I am done you will be lucky to ever leave the time-out chair.
You wouldn’t!
I would, and you know it.
I take your silence to mean we have an understanding. Now, since you are here, I could use your help.
I’m not sure. I don’t want to get in trouble.
You won’t get in trouble. Really, I only need you to do a small thing, a trifle even.
What’s a trifle?
It’s a small cake. You like cake.
Yeah, but obviously not as much as you do. I prefer healthy foods like proteins and fruit. We are learning all about making healthy food choices at school. You’ll learn about it too next year when you are finally big enough to come to my school. Mom says they used to call it a food pyramid when she was a kid, but it is a healthy plate now.
The only pyramids I am interested in are the ones they are going to build in my honor. Now back to the plan. I have decided it is time to initiate the next phase of my plan for global conquest, but in order to do so, I am going to need to reduce mom and dad’s overall ability to form a united resistance. That’s one of the first things I thought I’d taught you. That’s where you come in. For the next several nights, you and I will need to wake them up at random points in the early morning for whatever reason we can think of.
Like saying I heard a ghost opening my bedroom door or something scratching in the walls?
That’s perfect. Even better, wait until three am to tell her so that her imagination is just awake enough to run with it after you go back to bed. Then a night or so later, I’ll hear a thunderstorm and go into complete freak out mode even though the skies are completely clear.
Won’t that wake me up too?
It’s not like I just started planning my world takeover yesterday. I’ve been conditioning you against that since my infancy. Trust me. You will sleep right through it, but mom and dad won’t. A few more nights and they’ll be too exhausted to see straight, let alone pay attention to the next steps in the plan. It’s foolproof!
Do you really think that will work?
It’s already working. Do you really think I could have gotten this far if mom was really paying attention? Remember that whole thing with the cloud and the lost writing?
That was you? Oohhhhhhh…you are so getting into trrrrrooooubleeee…
I am neither denying or confirming I had anything to do with that incident. Besides – I’m cute. Even if I had something to do with it, and I am not saying I did, it’s not like I would be in trouble long. “I don’t know any better.” But that’s not the point. The point is that mom is distracted right now. You could probably tell her that she promised you a new dinosaur toy weeks ago for getting good grades and she’s probably tired enough to wonder if she actually did, and then just forgot.
Hmm, I would like more dinosaur toys, but…I still don’t know…
I’ll be your best brother…
Oh, alright then, but if mom or dad figures it out, you are on your own.
Excellent. We’ll talk again soon.
Very soon…
Monsoons, Moments, and Mars
It was just me and LT over the weekend. Lamont and Kiddo had embarked on a father-son overnight camping and fishing trip, a trip they go on at least once a year. While they had been gone, there had been heavy rain showers at the coast resulting in texts like “It was a monsoon” and “it turns out that our tent is only 95% waterproof,” messages that amuse me to no end, especially as I sip my wine, comfortably on my couch, while watching a chick flick, foreign film or similar typically vetoed movie selection.
I certainly felt that we’d gotten the better end of the deal as the weekend progressed. LT and I attended a tea party where he’d pulled on an over-sized straw hat, proclaimed himself a cowboy, and then shouted “Yee-Haw” to other guests (“use your inside voice, LT” x 100). LT had gone in search of waterfalls with his Nana and to a friend’s birthday party. I just knew Kiddo would envy the fun (and dry weather) we’d had.
I was wrong. When Kiddo and Lamont returned, I asked my boys if they would like to swap roles the next time. Did Kiddo want to stay with mom while LT went with dad? Kiddo looked at me like I was speaking another language. LT, misinterpreting the question and his brother’s answer into meaning that only one kid could go and Kiddo was it, practically threatened to secede from the family in protest. “Wait a minute, LT, didn’t you have fun?”
Even though I am happy enough to have some me time, the sound rejection stung and a little hurt must have shown in my face. “It’s not you. He is just afraid of missing out,” Lamont consoled me.
Later, after the kids were in bed, (or at least should have been bed – LT has been rather,… shall we say,… bedtime adverse over the last several days so it is hard to say for sure) Lamont stood outside waiting for Her Royal Highness to finish her evening’s business (by all means, Ms., please take your time). A bright, full moon shone overhead, illuminating exactly how little HRH cared about our impatience.
“We’re supposed to be able to see Mars,” I commented to Lamont as I joined him on the porch.
“Yeah, it’s by the moon.”
“It was even brighter at the beach.” Lamont informed me as HRH finally deigned to make her way back inside.
As I returned the telescope to its regular resting place it occurred to me that if the sky cleared long enough for Lamont to get a clear view of Mars, the trip hadn’t been the total washout his early texts would lead one to believe. Those texts were only snap shots from their weekend together, mere grains in the hourglass of their time. I also knew I’d only miss more as there were more journeys away from mom.
And that’s okay.
I could insist on joining them at the beach, but instead, I am looking forward to the excitement in the air, second only to Christmas, prior to their trip and the joy on their sun-browned faces as they tumble out of the car on their way to greet me on their return. I am looking forward to hearing the stories they collectively are suitable for mom’s ears and confronting Lamont with a smile when one of the boys accidentally shares something mom doesn’t need to know. But, as much as I love and will miss them, I am also seriously looking forward to a few moments to myself (like the occasional bathroom break).
I don’t need to see all the moments to be content. I am not afraid of missing out. I just want a clear sight when it comes to the moments that matter.
What to do when the cloud is not your friend
You take a road trip but aren’t asked to drive. You have nothing but time on your hands as you sit in the backseat for the twelve-hour drive. You are amazed to realize the car is actually quiet. You’d left the kids at home. There are no small people complaining about the need for snacks and a potty break every twenty feet. No arguments about someone’s elbow extending too far over the shared armrest or whose turn it is to pick the movie. You’d almost forgotten how travel, sans children, could be.
You think, I’d better take advantage of this rare opportunity to write. With that kind of uninterrupted time, you are bound to make some significant headway into your neglected manuscript.
You put in your ear buds and start typing. After a few false starts the words start flowing and they are beautiful. You know that deep down these are scenes that are going to somehow survive through editing relatively intact. Thousands and thousands of words later, you press the save button. A message box opens up. Upload pending.
Ah, that’s right. There is no WiFi in the car and you have your word processing program set up to sync automatically to the cloud, a precaution you took after you nearly lost a portion of your previous manuscript to your aging computer’s blue screen of death. You click a few more buttons and shut the computer down. The writer’s euphoria stays with you for the rest of the day. Man, that scene was awesome. You daydream about future glowing reviews. You start actually looking forward to editing if only to bring the rest of your draft up to the same high standard.
The next day you wake up refreshed having actually slept in your own bed once again. After the colossal effort from the previous day, you think today might let yourself off with a light writing day. Maybe catch up on a blog or two, or possibly write a piece of flash fiction for a contest, but first, you want to make sure you sync your previous day’s writing to the cloud.
You open your word processor. A message box opens. “Would you like to sync?”
Yes please, you think to yourself. A progress bar opens. As you watch the bar fill, your eyes happen to notice the side bar navigation. Funny, I am pretty sure there were more chapter headings there yesterday. You scroll down as the file completes its upload. No other chapter headings are shown. Odd. You start feeling bile build in your stomach as you jump to the last page in the file.
“I think I found stairs.”
It wasn’t the glorious last line you knew would keep your readers turning the page. No. They are the last words you wrote three days ago, the last words that were synced with the cloud before your road trip. You’d forgotten the function works in both directions. Fudge (except, like in the Christmas Story, you aren’t thinking fudge).
What to do now?
- Click on File>Recover Unsaved Version.
- Stare at the resulting message box declaring no unsaved versions while remaining in denial.
- Open up every single file folder remotely related to your document in search of anything at all with the word Backup in the name.
- Finding nothing, go online and search for any hacker tips out there that might allow you to somehow recover previous keystrokes.
- Whimper as you realize you are in over your head.
- While remaining in denial, notify your loved one of your tragedy on the off-chance they might be able to somehow wave a magic wand and bring your work back.
- Cry.
- Pour yourself another cup of coffee.
- Consider if it would be okay under the circumstances to spike said cup of coffee though it is before 9am.
- Consider throwing up.
- Return to the manuscript while giving yourself the whole, you wrote it once, you can write it again pep talk.
- Remind yourself that you are a terrible liar.
- Cry some more.
- Recognize that the diet is ruined and eat a cookie.
- Write something entirely different, maybe an attempt at a blog post so that others might share in your pain; someone, at least, ought to be laughing.
- Return to the scene of the crime (because that is what it is, cloud, that’s what it is!)
- Stare at your cursor.
- Sigh.
- Drain your cup of un-doctored coffee (pat yourself on the back for remaining strong).
- Start writing once more.
