A Christmas memory... again

Please enjoy a reprint of my Christmas story... my elf still watches over me :-)  Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays to all!

Till,
Judi

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Many years ago, the Christmas season couldn't come fast enough for one little girl.  When she and her Dad arrived at the local church lot to pick out a tree, that's when it began.  It was always a glorious day... the trees stood straight on their own or leaned on wooden saw horses.  Some towered over her, some she could pat on the top, some she could reach around and others, well, they were three times as round as she was.  Bright lights twinkled everywhere and Christmas music blared through scarred old speakers at the entrance to the lot.  If she were lucky, she might even catch a snow flake or two on her tongue.

She roamed the makeshift trails through the forest of Christmas trees, singing and twirling.  Finally, she stopped.  Yup, this was definitely the one.  She stared up at her father and pointed a hand knitted mitten toward the oh too tall tree.  Her father smiled and said, "A bit too tall?"  She shook her head, he paid the man and off they drove with the prize tree tied to the roof of the car.

A week before Christmas, the tree stand, lights and decorations made their way down from the attic in the usual parade - bags and boxes of ornaments, the satchel of lights and the new boxes of tinsel and angel hair.  Dad brought the tree into the living room after he had secretly trimmed branches off the top and sawed off a bit from the bottom.  "To allow the tree to drink," he would say.  The rest of the day would be filled with laughter, singing, hot chocolate, and hanging silver tinsel on the tree and on her sisters' heads.  The tinsel hung from their hair like silver braids making them laugh even harder.  Once the ornaments had lovingly been placed in their usual spots on the tree, Mother would stretch angel hair from limb to limb.  Then Father would plug in the lights and everyone "oohed and ahhed" and the season began.

The day after the tree was decorated, a group of small elves arrived, one for each of the three girls.  They sat on a cloud of angel hair on top of the television observing the behavior of all throughout the Christmas season.  The little girl couldn't touch her elf or he would lose his magic, her mother told her.  And so, each morning she would check that he was still there, watching. 

When she crept down the old creaky stairs on Christmas morning, he had disappeared.   Mama said, "After Santa places all the gifts under the tree, he takes the elves back to the North Pole on his sleigh." 

As years went by, the little girl grew up and lost touch with her elf.  Christmases went by and she never saw him or even thought about him.  And then, one magical Christmas, many years later after her parents had died, she hung an old wreath in her window, the one that had hung on the front door when she was a child.  As she opened the box of ornaments that had been moved from her childhood home's attic, she saw a flash.   She looked up and there, in all his glory, sat her elf on a copper wind twister in front of the ancient wreath.  She laughed and cried at the same time.  He hadn't forgotten about her even though she had left him behind. 

And so, her elf returns each Christmas season to help the little girl, now a grown woman with a family and home of her own, make new memories and new traditions.  But he reminds her constantly of the child who once chose the tree with her Dad and who laughed, sang and drank hot chocolate as she decorated the tree with her Mother and sisters - he brings back all of her childhood holiday memories.   

May this season bring you peace, new memories and a return of the excitement that you felt as a child during this time of year.

Till,
Judi

Coming soon...

Well, the process has begun.  I'm working with a graphic designer on the cover, soon an editor will enter the picture and then a release date will be set.   I'm hoping that the process moves quickly and the book will be out by Valentine's day :-) or by Spring.  It is still very exciting. 

I've worked on this particular manuscript for years -- updated it, edited it, rewritten parts of it, put it away for months and then this year decided it was time to let it fly.  November 1st came, which was my drop dead date, and I sent the manuscript out to two publishers.  My feeling at that point was that if it wasn't accepted by a publisher, I was going to self-publish it.

Then, about two weeks later, an email arrived in my inbox from one of them. I had received so many rejection notes throughout the years that I knew what it would say ...  thanks for submitting, but... always a but... it just doesn't fit into what we are looking for at this time, or I just can't take on another author, or.... 

I took a deep breath and opened the email message.  It began the same way... thank you for sending us "She's Not You". I almost closed it at that point but decided to see what excuse they would use... "If that title is stilll available, we would like to acquire it."  I reread it and then let out a "woo hoo" and ran around the office.  It was so thrilling.  For a writer, I don't think that feeling ever goes away, no matter how many pieces you have published.  Every time you send out a manuscript, you are exposing your work to others to read.  If they aren't thrilled with it like you are, it's very disappointing.  By the way, the other publisher loved it as well!!

I told you in an earlier blog that the workshop I took last winter really changed my writing - my characters were deeper; my scenes more senual and real, and the story line stronger and more realistic.  I have one fault as a writer, I fall in love with my characters.  I hate to let them go.  But in this case, there will be a sequel, so I get to follow them on another adventure. 

Writing is not easy and even though I have written and published tons of technical papers, creative writing is very different -- you have to write about real feelings and places, and create characters that the reader will connect to.  So, what I'm trying to tell you is not to give up, don't stop writing, and definitely take workshops and classes where you will receive constructive feedback.

My year is ending on a very high note and I'm hoping to keep that feeling going throughout 2018!  May you all have great happiness and success next year and enjoy good health and good friends along the way.

Happy holidays to you all! 
Judi

Exciting news... Debut Novel coming!

Yes, it's true... I received notice yesterday that my manuscript had been accepted for publication.  I don't have the details yet and still have work to do with the publisher on final manuscript, cover etc. but I'm so very excited!  I haven't even signed the contract yet. 

I have worked long and hard on my writing - writers' groups, creative writing workshops, on-line courses... and it has paid off. 

The story takes place on Cape Cod... mystery, thriller and romance.  Say tuned - there surely will be more to come.

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate the holiday!  I'm always thankful... maybe a bit more this year.

Till,
Judi

Nature and I are moving along....

October Beauty Judi Getch © 2017

I had to go for a walk today... I know, I should be writing, but you just can't pass up a day like today.  It was so glorius - the sun was warm, but there was a slight fall breeze.  There was no sighting of the black bear Mama with her cubs today along the river's edge.  I must have missed her.  We had a slight frost the other night, but still no killing frost, even with the snow on the mountain.  I have no doubt it will come!

I did a lot of editing this morning waiting for the temperature outside to rise.  I'm hoping to have the manuscript ready by the end of the month.  I think that I might miss the Christmas season, but you'll have a wonderful book to read in front of the fire in January!!!  I think you'll love the characers... JJ has endured much sadness, heartbreak and challenges in her life, but the latest one?  A stalker?  How will she deal with him?  Straight on... and does she need to be rescued by her love interest, the Chief of Police?  You'll have to wait till it's released to find out....

Okay, now that I've teased you, back to editing or you'll never know what happens to JJ :-)

Till,
Judi

My trip ends... my work resumes.

Photo by Judi Getch 9/24/2017 ©

One of the things I love to do is fly overnight.  I never sleep, but watch the towns and cities that are illuminated below in the total darkness.   Who are these people who inhabit this place?  Why do they choose to live here?  Some towns are so isolated... the nearest lit town miles and miles away.  Did they grow up here, meet the love of their life, marry and live out their days in this place?  All great story lines... what would it be like to live a year in one of these towns?  To be submerged in their way of life?

As we approached home, I watched the starlit sky turn a dark purple then a cerulean blue with the rosy colors of dawn appearing slowly on the horizon. Finally, the sun popped up on fire.  As my latest book says, "Jamie loved this time of day - just before sunrise when the world belonged to her, rosy in color signifying a new beginning and another chance to make things right.  She loved the first but struggled with the second."  Think she was channeling my thoughts as I flew home? :-)   

I had planned on editing much if not all of my manuscript this trip, but managed only two chapters... too much fun, too much to see and do, and maybe too much wine.  But I did a lot of people watching, listening to conversations and talking to new people.  The trip was awesome... seems like a dream now.  Even winging my way home, I was talking to a man from Malaysia who was sitting near me. He had many questions about the United States.

Once I readjust to my time zone, I'll dig into the editing once again.  My plan is to finish it completely in 4-6 weeks and submit the manuscript to a publisher.  I'm close, but being a Type A personality, I'll never be satisfied with it :-(  

I have two more completed manuscripts to work on after this one is completed... never a dull moment.

Hope you all are writing and filling your day creating your very important characters in their oh so important places solving their seemingly unsurmountable problems... I am!

Keep striving,
Till, 
Judi

And BTW, I did find a group of authors/writers not too far away from me.  They currently don't have a writers group, but it was nice to meet and talk shop with them.

As summer passes...

Summer's Glory painting by Judi Getch ©

Since I'm spending most of my time editing three books, I thought I would share a forward that I wrote a number of years ago.  It might explain why I always seem to center my stories around my "happy place."  And I'll also add that in recent years, my love of this special spot has been passed on to the next generation... I couldn't be happier!!

Keep writing and I'll return after my travels and editing are done :-)

Till,
Judi

" FORWARD

At the farthest tip of the ‘Cape’ (Cape Cod, Massachusetts) lies the quaint, but rural town of Wellfleet. This town, about eight miles long and three miles wide, is found near the top of the arm of the Cape, approximately 75 miles into the Atlantic Ocean.

As a child, I spent summers at my Aunt and Uncle’s cottage in Wellfleet – an antique white shingled house with green shutters which had been floated up from Provincetown a century or so ago. It sat on a cement patio that surrounded it on two sides. A long winding driveway hid the cottage and barn from the road.

Every day began with us raising the American flag over the barn, a tradition that ended with my father and uncle’s generation. A game of horseshoes played in the sunny, sandy yard filled the rest of the morning. Afternoons, when the tide was low, found us digging shellfish from the muddy bottom of Chipmans Cove. On warm evenings, we cooked hotdogs and marshmallows over a driftwood bonfire on the beach while basking in the bright crimson sunset. Back at the cottage, we entertained ourselves with concerts played on the mesmerizing and magical player piano. And of course, there was the lowering of the flag. Bedtime meant the long steep climb up the stairs to a single, large, often hot and sultry dormitory style bedroom.

In my twenties, I managed only a few stolen summer weekends at the cottage with my family. As the years flew by, time in Wellfleet became a luxury until finally, it disappeared altogether. But somewhere in the shadows of my mind, somewhere in the depths of my heart, at the edge of my being, Wellfleet always lingered.

Years later, on a warm August day, my sister and I decided to drive to Wellfleet to revisit our childhood places. Our first stop was up the overgrown driveway to the cottage that now stood in total disrepair – all life gone from it for many years. We sat on the warm concrete patio, welcoming the feelings of the past – sweet memories filled with those who were gone, but who thankfully brought us to this very special place.

My sisters and I, with our husbands, now return to Wellfleet every year spending precious weeks making new memories, but never forgetting to stop by and visit with the old ones. My Aunt’s cottage is gone now, but the memories, ghosts, and echoes of laughter will forever live on that land. The bobwhites still sing – not the same ones, but the descendants of those who sang for me as a child – or so I believe. This historic village by the sea heals me, lightens my heart, and refreshes my soul. I find my life’s rhythm by the water when I’ve lost my way. I sleep contented here – like one who has come home.

My hope is, as you read this story, that you will develop a fondness for Wellfleet and my “Lemon Pie Cottage.” And, in the end, I wish that each of you will find a place of your own that lightens your heart and refreshes your soul – a place that you can come home to."

Celebrate...

Happy 4th to all in the U S of A!  And to my Candian friends... Happy Canada Day and 150th birthday as well!  Be safe as you enjoy precious time with friends and family cooking out, cheering on the fireworks and being thankful for all the freedoms we enjoy.

I wanted to alert you to a terrific set of articles in the July 2017 issue of Writer's Digest.  The theme of the issue was "Crafting Better Characters." They zeroed in on four topics:   Good, Evil and In-between, 10 Techniques to Add Authenticity, the Power of POV, and Too Many Players.

In discussions I've had with agents and writers, they have always brought up the fact that if the characters in your manuscript don't draw them in, they're not interested in the book, no matter how good a writer you may be.  In other words, they said, "why do I care about this character?"  These are the cardboard cutout characters that we all write about, but why would the reader care about a character that a whisper of wind could blow over?

I've written characters like this ... the height, the hair and eye color, maybe her job, the scene setting (which I'm really good at) --  yet not tapping into their core feelings as they move from one scene to another.  What I've learned in my workshop this year was to close my eyes and become that character, to see what she sees and feel what she feels - good or bad.  It's not easy to lose yourself in someone else, and sometimes I find it exhausting.  In one of my manuscripts, I have a character who is being stalked by someone... she has no idea who he is or why he's following her.  He shadows her at the beach when she is alone... she feels him, but can't see him.  When she's in a group, she wonders if he's there, one of the men?  Feeling her fear and witing it so the reader feels it is the key to this story.

This issue of WD also had a great article on what's the correct number of characters who need to live in your story.  I tend to write with too few, I think.  Sometimes, I feel that my character needs a confidant, someone she can tell her secrets to.  I end up adding a childhood friend, college roommate ... someone she trusts and cares about.  For my male characters, it usually shows up as a sister, brother, or brother-in-law.  I love finding these people and making them come to life :-)

I thought that a little writing task might help us to develop better characters.  We all listen to music and feel different things when certain songs come on. It's that feeling that I want you to capture... those random thoughts that go through your mind, those memories....  For my male readers/writers, I'd like you to listen to Blake Shelton's "Every time I hear that song" and write a page about who it makes you think of, what do you feel and why.  You don't have to show it to anyone, but write those raw feelings down.  For my female readers/writers, how about Little Big Town's "A Better Man."  We have all had atleast one and maybe more men in our lives who have disappointed us, broken our hearts, ... share those feelings.  Writing this page might help you develop characters that feel happiness, sadness, cry, laugh, and are real 3-D people.  I bet your readers would start to care about them.  Try it, I think you will discover something very important about your writing.

Till,
Judi

To all our Dads...

Copyrighted 2016 Judi Getch

This is dedicated to my Dad.  The words to describe what his loss means to me... they just aren't there.  Oh but for five more minutes with him...

Excerpt from "Safe Harbors" published in Ocean Magazine 2012...

“I looked down at my father’s casket.  He had always been there for me – my whole life. I talked – he listened; I cried – he comforted; I lost my way – he guided me back.  One minute he was there, the next minute he was gone. 

Someone softly spoke my name; I turned wiping the tears from my face – an embrace, a word of sympathy, a kiss on the cheek. 

I heard only the hum of the priest’s words at the grave, “May he rest in peace… let us pray for him.” 

I stood there in a daze. Someone took my hand, kissed my cheek, moved on to my sisters and my mother. The mourners milled around and then softly made their way to their cars until our family stood there, alone.  I pulled a pink rose from a floral arrangement and placed it on my father's casket, placed my fingers on my lips and laid them next to the rose.  My final goodbye kiss.  I turned, hollow eyed and empty, making my way back to the black limousine.  My only thought,

 What would I do now?  He had been in my life forever…

The wind whipped my hair against my face as I pulled the collar of my coat tighter around my neck.  My ears stung and my eyes teared.  It always felt much colder here as winter approached.  The dampness of the water, I guessed.  Most of the boats in the harbor were gone now.

It was November 5th, my father’s birthday.  I had been struggling since August, when he died, to put my life back on course.  He had always said, “If you need me, you’ll find me by the ocean,” so here I was, by the ocean, and in desperate need of him. 

I stood looking across the lonely empty harbor, bracing myself against the cold, icy wind.  It looked the same as it did when I was a child.  I closed my eyes and could see us, my two sisters and myself, running up the sand dunes, screaming and pointing at horseshoe crabs, throwing the beach ball, toasting marshmallows over the fire, laughing; my mother sitting on the blanket, leaning back on her arms, her face in the sun, a smile on her lips; my father, dripping from his swim, running to the blanket and spraying her with water.  He bent over and kissed her playfully.  I saw myself floating on a blown up inner tube, watching my parents on the shore.  Suddenly, I slipped through the hole in center.  Down I went under the water, valiantly trying to reach the surface when suddenly a strong pair of hands grabbed me and lifted me out of the water into the sunshine as I gulped for air.  Coughing and sputtering, I rubbed my stinging eyes. 

“You’re safe” he said as he hugged me.  “I’ll always keep you safe, I promise” he whispered in my ear. 

He always kept his promises I realized standing there.  He had given me the strength and courage to cope with whatever obstacles life laid at my feet.  And with tears in my eyes, I smiled knowing that this was where I would always come to replenish my soul and mend my heart.  This was where I could always find the rhythm of my life.”

Reflections....

Emmanuel College copyrighted by Judi Getch June 2017

Fenway Park copyrighted Judi Getch June 2017

Well, I thought things would slow down when I stopped traveling, but Alumni Weekend was upon me before I knew it.

Being part of the Board, we act as ambassadors spending many wonderful moments trading stories with Alums both younger and older.  It was not a reunion weekend for me, but it was for other classes like my sister's.   I wore her class ring and sought out her class members to tell them that she had died two years ago.   They told of the fun they had had with her at the previous reunion.  I met a woman on the Fenway Tour (which I supported) who had known her when she had been a Dean.  It seemed that everywhere I turned there was a whisper of her.

Copyrighted Judi Getch 2017

And then, Saturday night, as they set up for dinner, out came the center pieces... Fiona from the book that I had written and dedicated to my sister!  There Fiona sat on each table with her family in a bottle.  I don't believe in coincidences... so thank you to my dear sister for letting me know that she was near.

I feel so energized when I return to campus.  I have good and not so good memories as all of us do.  For me, I had a tough major and minor - Math and Physics, complicated by taking extra classes to obtain my teaching certificate.  Spare time was at a minimum, but, in spite of all the studying, I managed to squeeze in some time for fun - dances, spring break in Bermuda, proms, dates...  and even a bit of writing for the newspaper.  Friends came and went as did boyfriends.  Then, graduation appeared on the horizon.  For all of us, a new chapter of our lives stood before us and each of us took that leap of faith that we would land on our feet and do great things.  Coming back to campus gives us a chance to admit how that leap lived up to our expectations.  I personally had no idea what I would do... I just clung to that piece of paper that I had earned and jumped into life delaying graduate school for a few years.  

Having fit all my practice teaching into vacations senior year, I obtained my teaching certificate, but knew that teaching was not what I wanted to do,   When I took a position as a mathematician on a space project, I had found a home... initially designing and implementing software for every kind of application imaginable, and many that you couldn't imagine. :-)

When I return home to my college each year, I'm grateful to my parents for instilling in me the worth of an education, to those tough years within the ivy covered walls that instilled in me a love of learning and service, for the confidence that my parents and this college gave me so that I could compete in a man's world, and for instilling in me a drive to set my feet upon a trail that at times was hard and untraveled, but that produced the best life and career ever.   Thank you to all those who have passed through my life and left their mark upon me.

Having shared my feeling from this weekend, I hope you all are gathering from life what you need to interject into your writing... hope, gladness, sorrow and sadness.  Gather these feelings into your writing basket and continue on... remember, there are no second chances.  Choose wisely, look backwards only to learn lessons not to wish to change events, and keep moving forward.

More on my writing next time... the French manuscript is progressing pretty well :-)  The research has been fun :-)

Till,
Judi

A quick update...

 

Well, I'm back with a quick update... the anniversary of my sister's death just passed on May 3rd, and in concert with that, I'd like to announce that the first scholarship from her scholarship fund (The Patricia A. Getch Memorial Scholarship) is being awarded this year to a worthy recipient at Massasoit Community College where Patti served as Dean of the Business and Technology Division. These scholarships are being partially funded from profits from "Fiona . the Lighthouse Firefly" and "Fiona the Firefly - LOST!" Both children's books are available on Amazon.com.

My heartfelt thanks to all of you who have supported my efforts to remember Patti in a lasting way and in doing so, further the education of worthy students at the College.

Contributions can be made directly at https://donatenow.networkforgood.org/massasoit At the bottom at the page, please select Patricia A. Getch Memorial Scholarship.

At this point, I can only say that my efforts to write stories about her beloved firefly have provided double blessings, for me, therapy as I deal with her death and funds for her scholarship fund.

In the meantime, my writing of my newest novel is progressing and I'll be back to talk about that as soon as I unpack from my latest trip.

Hope you are still writing...
Till.
Judi

You have to start somewhere....

"Irish rocks and mushrooms" watercolor painting copyrighted by Judi Getch Brodman

I thought that I could illustrate what I'm suffering through with my writing right now by quickly describing my painting process.  Directly above is a photograph of a mishmash of leaves, rocks, ferns and mushrooms that were outside my girlfriend's back door in Ireland.   She just walked by it, but I said, "Hey, look at those mushrooms!"  It was the seed for a wonderful painting... keeping those mushrooms in mind, I threw a lot of color in the background... always keeping those mushrooms in mind.  Eventually everything fell together and those mushrooms, oh those mushrooms danced.  Believe it or not, it is one of my favorite paintings and one that people always ask how I saw something beautiful in that scene.

It's not so different from the writing process I'm going through now... I found the "mushroom" that I loved for a story, a news report that intrigued me, but how was I going to find the "rocks" to showcase that mushroom?  It's a beautiful mushroom, but only something around which to build the story.  I wrote before that the first two or three chapters came easily and then?  Nothing... where was the story going?  Slowly, with the help of my on-line course, Heidi, my teacher, had me think about what my characters were like, answer some interesting questions about them, like what were their regrets, what had they saved, what memory stood out from their childhood, and voila,  a story line appeared.  Slowly, one by one, the rocks appeared and I'm finding my characters' flaws and strengths, regrets and secrets - like the rocks in the painting. As with the rocks, I have to make the story nuggets fit in with the color and shapes and the mushroom.

I'm writing Chapter 10 and it's still hard work, and I know that even when I've colored in all the rocks, there will be many revisions before the story is publishable.  But I'm finding a rhythm and enjoying it.

My advice from my experience this winter is to take a GOOD writing workshop if you can find one... at a local college, a writers group, or an on-line course like the one I took.  It will up your writing skills if the leader is a good one with good insight.  Mine was taught by an author I loved and I worked hard every day for eight weeks.

Well, back to crafting the rocks of my story...

Till,
Judi

Revving your writing engine...

Thoor Ballylee Tower - Yeats summer home  copyrighted Judi Getch

Well, I said that I'd be back after my workshop was over, and here I am!  This was my first time taking an on-line writing workshop and it worked out great.  A bit weird introducing yourself to the others in the group digitally, but we all worked real hard for eight weeks. 

We started the first week with writing exercises which were fun. These were partially so our leader, Heidi, could get a feel for the writing capabilities of the group.  Then we submitted a piece, could be a chapter or a few pages, and the group as well as Heidi would comment on the posting.  About week four or five, she asked us to choose one of our characters and answer a set of questions about him or her, questions like what were they ashamed of or if they had a small wooden box what would be in it. You absolutely can't imagine what you can learn about your characters by answering a bunch of questions about them.  After I did it for my primary character, she asked me to do it for another... this was eye-popping for her and for me.  I discovered my plot through that exercise.  Characters are her thing... making them real, being inside them as the author, placing them in a scene that you the reader can sense.  My writing took a giant leap from studying with her... she can pinpoint problems and light them up for you like a laser beam.  

I'm continuing my writing journey on my own now, but I have so much more to offer a reader after this workshop.  It felt so good to have her say at the end..."you are making real characters, real scenes, real conversations here. Her French returns in a very natural way, and the reader follows along, seeing the scene spread out before him, with interest and pleasure."

I am rewriting my novel that I thought was ready to go and my new novel is moving so fast that even I can't keep up with those darn characters!  

If you need to restart your writing engines... find a group, take a workshop, read a good book by an author you love.  Trust me, your engines will be revving in no time at all!   

Back to my writing so I can see what my characters have been up to since I've been away!

Till,
Judi

An Epiphany...

Castelnaud By Judi ©

Ah yes, I'm writing from my castle turret!!  Quill in hand and parchment near... I have been working on a manuscript that I had a perfect beginning to, and then?  After two chapters, I found myself with nothing... nowhere to go which is unusual for me.  I figuratively placed it in the drawer and moved onto another manuscript, which I was able to draft relatively quickly.

As I started this on-line workshop though, I posted chapters from a mystery which I was pretty sure was ready to go to print.  Well, not so fast.  Heidi's questions were probing and intriguing and my story didn't have the answers.  As the weeks have gone by, her guidance, questions and comments have made me return to my characters and become them... so I see, feel and hear everything they do.

I removed my stuck story out of the drawer, and with great courage, posted it for my three male counterparts and Heidi to read.  It so happened that this story started in Boston and moved to Paris.  Absolument!  Her first comment was "Is she...well, what is she, who is she?"  As I had written my character so far, she was like a paper doll, a cardboard cutout.  I had described her clothes, hair and eye color, her journey and arrival in Paris... my writing was great, but my character was flat. Who was she exactly?  "There's a tantalizing story here," Heidi said, "imagine the conversation between she and her boyfriend and make it crackle... ..... and I want (name) to be a character who really grabs my interest so I can follow this story." 

Okay... so I dug in, closed my eyes, sat with her boyfriend, argued with him, saw him as dismissive and arrogant.   And I said, why is she with this jerk?  I had no answer other than she was weak and weak was not what I was going for here.  So I went back and started a new revision.  I sat in the restaurant with him, told him what great things my character was doing, but he proceeded to still be dismissive of her accomplishments.  Okay, she had chosen this guy for a reason?  Well, this trip came up and now she was starting to expand her own life, I was getting to know her.  At the end of this revision, Heidi said, "You have really begun to bring this to life!   I love... and I love... and we still have all these questions yet to answer about her and her mother...."   I had actually made her into a woman that I and the others were getting to know.  I was thrilled.

So, I'm now into week six and working hard, but have expanded my writing so much.  I will miss this workshop when it ends but hopefully will not lose the energy and wisdom I have gained from Heidi.  

More as I  finish in a few weeks.

Till,
Judi

A different view... a different perspective!

Paris...

 

I thought I'd better check in.  Between traveling and writing, time is just flying by.

Well, I'm in the third week of my writing group/class and I can say that I can already see a difference in my writing.  Our leader has a laser sharp eye and can analyze our written words and show us where we could add more - descriptions, emotions, views from inside the characters head.  I thought writing was hard before, now I know just how much harder it can be to write really, really well.,

My manuscript that was just about complete is now shredded.  Just in these few weeks, Heidi has taught us to look at our work with a critical eye and stretch, to move into the heads of our characters and  look around and describe what they see and what they feel.   Easier said than done, I've learned, but I'm rewriting!!

Anyway, I'm not even half-way through this course, and everything is in flux.  But I know that when I put it all back together, I will love what I have done.  Somehow, I have to carry her in my head as I continue to write so I can live in my characters, think like them and act like them.

I'm taking a few writing hours off today to watch the Super Bowl.... I'll be cheering!!!

Till,
Judi

A new writing door opens....

Photograph copyrighted Judi Getch 2017

As my mother used to say, "When one door closes, another opens...."  And somehow, as I move through my life, her words always seems to prove true.  But as 2017 started, I decided not to wait for that door to open,  I grabbed that doorknob, yanked on it and opened my own door.

Last year, my writers group never started up and I missed it.  I missed writing pieces that I would never think to write, I wanted to read other's words and learn from them, and finally, I hoped to write with more feeling and sensory information,  A group forces me to put my work out there for other eyes to read and comment on. Sometimes I hold my breath, but for the most part, I'm pretty thick skinned and am looking for feedback that will make my writing stronger.  This year, it again appeared that my usual group was not coming to be.

Well, I wasn't going to have another year of no feedback.  If you remember, one of my posts last year talked about a book that I had read by Heidi Jon Schmidt, "the house on oyster creeke."  I sent her an email and told her how much I enjoyed the book and her writing.  She wrote back and in the course of back and forth conversations, she said that she conducts an on-line writers' group.  My ears went up, my eyes flew open... yup, I was interested.

So....  I'm now entering my second week with this group.  I've never exchanged comments and posted pieces on a blog, but I am now.  Quite interesting in that all communications between the writers and Heidi take place in posts.  There are only a few of us, so reading others' works isn't too time consuming.  We receive writing and reading exercises as well and so far, with one week down, it has been fun.  It's a group of writers so I'm hoping for more than a pat on the head and a good job.  I'm seeing glimpses of ... "What if you..." or "Can you tell me more about... here."  I want my writing to be stronger, express more, evoke the reader's feelings and senses.  And I'm thinking that this group will help me step up to this next level.

So that's what I'll be involved in for the next seven weeks.  What are you doing to improve your writing?  Find a class, find a group, find a way to make your writing better!

More updates as I move through this writers group.

Till,
Judi

On to a new year....

Copyrighted Mary Licata

Well, here we are starting a brand new shiny year, where anything is possible!  I know, it's hard to get motivated after having a wonderful fun filled holiday season, but do we have a choice?  Not if we want to be published this year.  And I certainly have a number of manuscripts that are almost ready to be published.

After Mary Licata, my illustrator, read the draft of "The Looking Glass Labyrinth," she generated a cover drawing - the one above.  The premise of my story is simple yet complex.  It's the tale of two women who lived over two centuries apart yet shared a common loss -- the men that they loved.  One  lost her sea captain in a gunfight inside the walls of her home two centuries ago and the other lost her fiance in a gunfight five years ago in Afghanistan.  Both women protected themselves against suffering the same hurt and heartache  by withdrawing from the world until... but if I told you the next part, it would spoil the surprise wouldn't it?  Is it a dream based on Lady Rachael's diary?  Or....

So, I'm finalizing the manuscript, hoping to have a publisher pick it up soon.  Final editing takes me forever because each time through the document, I find a sentence to smooth out or a paragraph that needs to be clearer.  I actually enjoy editing.  Most writers don't but I find it energizing.  

Okay, enough time spent not editing.  I'll about to start... maybe in a bit :-)

Keep writing... like anything else, if you don't use it, you lose it.

Till,
Judi