We Are Us

There are two common interests my dad and I share: music and books.

There are two things my dad and I almost always disagree on: music and books.

It's sad, really.

I mean, we agree on common stuff, like the Beatles. And the Bible. That's about where our tastes diverge.

We're both on an unofficial mission to convert each other to the "right" side now. I recommend books to him. He makes me listen to his music. Sometimes something sticks, and sometimes it doesn't.

This isn't a bad thing, though. We have lively discussions. Chairs are thrown! Decorative pillows are ripped! Windows beg for mercy!

Okay, no. But, we do enjoy the lively discussions.

I was thinking about this in relation to writing. I would love to be the next amazing whoever, but the only thing I can be is myself. I'm the only one who can write like me and that's so awesome.

Regina Spektor doesn't sing like Colbie Caillat. If she did, people would probably rip decorative pillows, because come on, that would sound weird. They're totally different.

So, yo, Regina (or, you know, insert your name here), KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK. Because when you make your voice do that weird cool thing like only you can do, we know can write that character with a funny little quirk. Or the plotline that some people might think is too out there, but that we can pull off.

Because WE ARE US, dang it!*

*eloquent bits of wisdom brought to you by Jeigh. Keep being yourself.

I'm a sick puppy

Writing my own novel has changed many things in my life.  My housekeeping habits.  The amount of money I shell out for five-dollar footlongs.  My relationship with my throw pillows.

Hello, handsome.

I used to be one of those people who could sit back and enjoy a movie or a book without thinking too much.  I liked to veg.  Now, I'm analyzing.  "Why is that potted plant significant?  What dual purpose does this dialogue serve?  Where is she going with that slice of watermelon?"  And so forth.

Another unexpected side-effect is the way I deal with pain, sickness, uncomfortable situations, etc.  If I'm upset, I take a moment to go through a mental checklist:  How do I feel physically?  What do I look like when I'm crying?  What are a few words that could describe my thoughts?

Because, you know, this is all good stuff to remember for when one of my characters is feeling the same way.
I hit a new low last night, though.  I've had a stomach bug (*GINORMOUS NOTE TO FAMILY AND FRIENDS: THIS IS NOT A PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT.  OKAY?) for about two weeks now.  It's been relatively tame, as far as stomach bugs go, but it thinks it's funny to randomly pick days where we can focus on puke.  And focus I must.

Now, I'm no stranger to barfing.  Four kids+morning sickness=lots of quality time with my porcelain friend.  But last night, as I was "in position", all I could think was, "Take notes."  I have hurling in my story, and as much as I've done it in the past, unless it's fresh on your mind, it's hard to write down.

I'll spare you the details.  Let's just say, that scene in my book is about to get a lot more descriptive.  Because I remember! Ohhh, do I. 

My friend Julie has a hilarious post about the same thing here.

So, Julie and I want to know...we're not crazy, right?  When is the most random moment that you've taken notes for the good of your writing?

Confessions I should probably keep to myself #1

I need Amanda Hugnkiss.  (hahaha!  Funniest prank name EVER!  Okay, fine, I'll leave the middle school slumber party and come back to my mature life.  *sigh*)

Seriously, though, I do.  

Not a girl named Amanda.  Or a man to hug and kiss.  Because I already have one of those (hubba hubba!).

But this is the thing:  I write most of my romance-y stuff late at night.  Reason #1- late at night is when brilliance starts sprouting from my brain uninhibited.  Reason #2- late at night I'm not constantly bombarded with "Mommommommommommomcrackercrackercrackertattletattletattletattlepoopoopoopoo!!!"  (Because those four words make up kids and their needs in a nutshell, you know.) 

Reason #3- I blush like a maniac when I write mushy stuff.  If you know me personally, you'll understand that the blushing thing isn't that extraordinary.  I'm a career blusher.  I turn red even for the sake of other people's embarrassments. My nickname in junior high was The Devil.  Yeah.

So one night, Rex was doing homework on the couch and I was typing away and he happened to look up at me and was like, "What are you writing?"  

And I was like, "Huh, what?" *blinking in a foggy haze of romance*  Then I had to admit that I was writing a kissing part, which is no big deal, right?  Because people kiss.  And it was just kissing, not even lusty kissing, really really sweet kissing actually, but I was bright red anyway.

Rex gave me his supportive you weirdo look and went on with life.  I save my mushy stuff for when he's not around, though.

Now, it should be pointed out that the romance in my stories is not racy by any stretch of the imagination.  It focuses mostly on the romantic tension leading up to The First Kiss, and here is where my struggle comes.

Rex is in bed.  The house is quiet.  And I'm trying to write about two people sitting next to each other, and I need to know if their hands would even actually be able to brush if they're sitting the way they're sitting, or I need to see how an entire sequence would play out and if it would come across as romantic or creepy and awkward. 

What's a girl to do?  The way I picture it in my mind isn't enough!  I want to see it at work!  I need proximity!  So, I use my throw pillow.  I prop it up next to me on the couch, let it's arm casually bump against mine.  I let it come 90% and wait as I slowly inch closer...and closer...and closer...

For the record, I've never actually kissed the pillow.  Because it's allll about what happens just before, remember?  But still, yes, I'm hitting on a pillow.  And letting it bust a move on me.

So, I'm curious.  What lengths do you go to in making sure your scenes are realistic?