If I Had One Last Post

For the last few months I’ve been quietly writing… trying to get to a place in my novel where I can seriously begin editing it down to a tangible piece of fiction, one of which I can have edited for review.

Almost 3 years have past and every fiber of my body wants and needs this story to be told. Its unimaginable how much I want to see it printed, binded and know that people, even if it’s just one person, one person that will  feel the love, see the tragedy and witness the joy within the story I’m trying to tell.

No End in Site

While taking a few creative writing classes this fall I spoke with a few writers, those who are also writing books and have already completed one. One Instructor told me it took him 8 years to get their first one out, another said five! I freaked out when I heard that. In my mind I don’t want to take that long, in a way I can’t. But then I know I want to do it right, and I still have a lot of learning (editing) to do.

Part of my drive is stemming from the need for it to be over, not the process of writing- that has been an adventure and I’ve gained and continue to grow from it. It is the need for the story to be done.. A need to let it go. You see, the story I’m writing is very personal to me. For more reasons than one, the weight of my characters in my mind seem to be getting heavier, especially when at times it can be difficult to find a way out of the maze I’m creating.

I often wonder if its wrong for a writer to feel this way (wanting the story to be over). My guess, it’s a natural one, one that I suspect other writers at times feel. I also realize this feeling comes from being too close to the story and dwelling on it even on the days I attempt to give myself some respite from it.

For example, on one of those ‘days off’, I was online listening to music clicking on artists I love and am curious about. This was when I ran into the video below. I was so moved by it. At first I cried, then I watched it again, then again… then, I started feverishly writing. I made adjustments to the plot, emphasized things I knew I wanted to show but felt weren’t clear…… all inspired by the images I was seeing and the music I was hearing.

(Note: Expand the video so you can see it enlarged on your screen….trust me its better bigger)

The three minute and 55 second piece was created by a Videographer named Paulo. He mixed the modern electronic music of James Blake with a choreographed piece from the late Pina Bausch‘s stark depiction of the Rite of Springto make (in my mind) a piece of art in its own right. It exemplifies the second underling story within my novel… the discourse of love, loss, fear, anger and desire. It depicts the laborious requirement of it, both dirty and beautiful. I believe the quote from Marguerite Duras, author of The Lover and  The Malady of Death best describes the images within the video when she stated:

“…in heterosexual love there’s no solution. Man and woman are irreconcilable, and it’s the doomed attempt to do the impossible, repeated in each new affair, that lends love its grandeur.”

– Marguerite Duras

Clearly for me, its hard to see an end in site when I’m still making changes, editing huge chucks of narrative and still questioning the direction of my story. In my heart I know its not a bad thing to take this long, especially when I want to do it right- my story deserves it, they, my characters deserve it, I want to be proud. Truth be told, I know myself enough to know when I actually do finish, I will be upset for the loss of finally being done.

So, if I finished my book and had one last thing to post, it would be of this dance, this song, this art, this love that I’m trying to communicate…even to that one person that will eventually get to read it.

Fiction Is My Truth

Image ByAntonio Bolfo/Reportage by Getty Images

Writing Too Close To The Truth

When I first began writing this novel I was moved by a person, a life and a family- the greatness of it, tragic and beautiful. I befriended a long time veteran of the police force, and in return I learned about a world and a life I had never given a second thought to. Each time we spoke I would quietly listen to stories of life altering experiences that dealt with two decades of witnessing the ugliest most part of people- both horrific and heroic.

With a new found respect, I was inspired by his strength and in awe of their steadfast dedication and endurance to keep waking up each morning to do it all over again, it became one of the many reasons why I began writing my novel.

Obviously I’m aware of the origins of my story, however not since the beginning stages of my writing had I really thought about the difficulty I had when trying to create fiction from something real. It wasn’t until one of my a brief #ROW80 updates that I thought about the muses that inspire so many of our stories.

We’ve all heard at least once in our life, in order to be great or begin to be successful you should write or talk about the things you know. This concept can be applied to many professions including writing.

Even during a fiction writing class, I recall my instructor saying that most first-time writers in some way shape or form often write stories and create characters that are composites of themselves and their own lives.

Knowing I could write about the experience that moved me enough to start writing again; I took to my computer and created the outline to my novel. The first few months of writing began as a page-by-page biography of sorts. I didn’t mean to be so literal as I didn’t want my story to be a work of non-fiction. The anonymity and trust of my Muse was and will always be extremely important to me.

With this in mind, I wanted my story to contain the seminal feelings and ideas that moved and inspired me when I first felt and heard them. I just didn’t know how to go about it.

“Fiction is the truth inside the lie.Stephen King

Take Stephen King as an example. The protagonists in a large number of his fictional worlds are writers, and the settings take place in and around Maine (where he lives). His writing tends to carry a constant theme of isolation, either through the physical state his characters live in or within the internal conflicts they struggle with; this can be seen as a parallel interpretation to a writers life as they create. But these are not literal translations of his own life. Even when you read his book “On Writing” you can see how both similar and dissimilar his works are to him as a person. However, they still carry the essence of who he is, almost like a marker that says hey “That’s a Stephen King story’.

So, a few months into my own writing I began to take a hard look at my inspiration. I started pulling apart the cogs that created the structure that stood in front of me. By doing so I began to understand the foundation that built the real world I felt inspired by. The concrete and mortar was made up of universal truths, most of which we have all experienced at one point or another in our own lives.

It was the idea of family and the potential dysfunction of it; the experience of love and betrayal, the concept of fear and regret; purpose and loss; identity and legacy. These were the ideas and feelings I wanted to write about.

Soon I realized that my story needed to be more than changing names and locations. I began creating a world and a cluster of people that contained their own realities. The causalities of my main character wouldn’t be the same as any one person I knew in my life, but of the experiences, thoughts and feelings that I knew could happen depending on the choices I decided he/she would make in the story.

Now I’m beginning to understand that we contain a full catalog of knowledge both real and imagined, each tucked away within the fibers of our brains waiting to be called upon. Our minds contain countless hopes, dreams, observations of life and experiences- each available to us as we create the worlds within our stories.

So, still using as an outline the initial inspiration that lit the fire under me to write, the story that I’m creating today has become a mosaic of all the people I’ve met, information that I’ve read, watched and learned over the span of my lifetime. The words that I write are ideas that I imagine and some things that I have been witnessed to. It contains small nuggets of experiences and feelings that I have felt as a child and as an adult.

Either through writing prompts, a picture, a song, a news article, a scent, a person we may meet or even through something we have touched, I believe we have most of the tools needed to begin creating a great fictional piece of literature…even if it’s based on something real.

She Had Given Him Her Entire Life In Those Final Moments…

(Snippet Of My Novel- A Work In Progress)

The game was running into overtime as his mind wandered. There were moments that seemed to blur. His thoughts, reality and not, all jumbled into one very real alternate universe. It was sometimes difficult to discern time.

“Look there, my son” he thought.

Seeing him now, a young man of fifteen. Fifteen? Juan shook his head as if to rewind back time. It was impossible to escape the ever lingering sensation he felt when looking at his son. It was the sense of accomplishment and one of awe. His son on the soccer field was the same 7 pound 5 ounce baby that once entered the world from his wife’s body to then be placed into his arms—both warm and small.

And now here was, his son gliding across the vast expanse of the green field and blue sky, confident and strong. Juan reminds himself how fortunate he is. He had finally brought something good into this world, uncorrupted and untainted.

Robbie had been born during a time when fathers had just been allowed into the delivery rooms. He could recall the mosaic of sounds that beeped from the many machines monitoring her and the baby’s heartbeat. The piercing smell of bleach and blood that seemed to linger in the air fueling the thought of life and death. Giving and taking, both intermingled together in one place.

It was their third try. It hadn’t been easy. She didn’t want this. He knew it. But he pushed just like he always did. They both believed they needed this to mend a marriage; to consummate something beautiful and permanent despite the obvious seams that had been fraying at the edges.

In some ways he knew it was over. The last battle for their love was won and lost by his wife Rosaline. Juan felt the moment during his son’s birth when she broke away from him. She was there, she was smiling, she was holding his son, but she had already left him.

She had given him her entire life in those final moments; each year passing with every push.

As she grasped his hand to bear down for the final time, out came the last string of love that lied between them both, now beating in the soul of his son.

Robbie was the last gift of her youth, her independence and her innocence, all given to him. Just as he had always received everything he had asked for, whether given freely or taken by demand.

Now, looking at the face of his son as he kicked the black and white paneled ball in mid-air, it didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t mean anything but what was in front of him in these moments.

Music & Writing

The Push Pull of Love

Within my novel I’ve been  attempting to show the universal experience of pain, regret, love and family. Suffice it to say, far too often  these topics tend to drudge up my own personal experience with these same issues.  Essentially, this is where I use my poetry as a cathartic process of releasing the things that weigh heavy on me.

So, in between my novel-writing I’ve been working on one particular poem that speaks of my own intimate experience with the push-pull of love, anger, longing and desire. Honestly, I’ve been having a lot of difficulty with it. My words have been feeling like a tangled web of hair, unable to comb through. This is where music often helps me…it puts me in the right mindset.

Pandora, my iTunes and CD collection are always on or within reach. I’ve even gone as far as using my Sound machineapp on my iPhone to use as I write. Depending on the particular scene I’m working on (hospital setting, outdoors in a park) I pick from the various sounds they offer. There I have a sampling of thunder storms, forest sounds, rain falling on a tin rooftop, traffic and distant train sounds. It may be a bit weird but for me it helps.

For my novel and this particular poem the song below is always looping in the foreground. I feel like the music embodies the idea of  leaving behind while moving ahead. You can almost sense the movement as you listen… well at least I do 🙂

I hope you enjoy it.

“Untitled #4” (a.k.a. “Njósnavélin”)  -By Sigur Rós
The song had a Hollywood debut in the movie ‘Vanilla Sky’ during the final scene.

My Soundtrack To Falling In Love

Another late night writing session…Pandora is on and this song comes in my queue.

When I first heard this album ‘ComeFromHeaven‘ I was falling in love with the person I would then go on to be with for the next 13 years.  Alpha, Fiona Apple and a few others provided the soundtrack to  some of the best moments in my life. I hope you enjoy.

‘Sometime Later’ By- Alpha

Untitled

By: N. Guadalupe

Falling deep, falling hard
I’m losing all sense of me
This adult version of she

College educated, career oriented
I’m losing the jaded most part of me

This teen is falling deep and falling hard
Becoming the younger version of me

Filled with insecurities and exposed virginity
I’m losing sight of me

Naïve in the language of surface truths
Unrevealed and uncertainties she wades the deep

Watching the slow tempering of real and make-believe
These stiff brick walls remain unrelenting on me

I think I’m losing all of me

Put a Fire in My Belly

By: Natasha Guadalupe

Craving violence
No more complacent me
Understanding and peaceful talks has made this me

Put a fire in my belly
Fill it with the instability and unpredictability of it all

The feeling when first strapped to the chair
Heart racing with the clink, clang of the worn track
Gripping the bar as you anticipate the decent

Swooshhhhh
Down the windy slope, stopping midair, upside down, only to be whipped whipping around
Right-side up

Unforeseen curves,
The weight and push of the bends
Exhilarating!
Until the end

Creeping to the place where you began,
Unstrapped, released, and shaken
Left with only the echo of ride

Killing Off My Main Character…..

I guess this is a spoiler alert.  However, by the time I edit this crazy draft, find & get an agent, then  with some luck have it published you would have forgotten any of this. Why? Because I’m very sure it will be many years from now that any of this will happen  LOL!!!

During a recent NaNoWriMo write-in I met a fellow writer who asked me why was I going to kill my main character. In so many words she asked  if I was killing him because he was a ‘bad’ person.

I smiled inside because it couldn’t be further from the truth.  He is a ‘good’ person, a man deserving love and a happy life, but in this case not an ending one would expect or want in a story for their main character.  Sometimes things are too broken to be fixed.

Life and the choices we make as individuals often leads us down a path to the inevitable, in this case death.  My character’s hurt has corrupted their ability make the change needed to do more than survive—to truly live. Allowing the pain to be the only thing that defines them. It may sound harsh, perhaps it is, but it is the one truth I know in the story’s outcome I created.

I’ve spent a good portion of my life meeting all types of people from all walks- off the beaten path so to say.  As a psych major, I choose a field of study that would help give me the tools needed to empower individuals enough to help them make the choices that would improve their own lives. This lead to a 12 year chosen career path as a counselor to teens, parents, alcoholics, heroin addicts, and HIV/AIDS patients. In that time, even as I looked at my own life, I began to understand there comes a point in a person’s life where the window for change becomes narrower and narrower.

Once a person passes that “Fork in the Road” and neglected to make the proverbial correct turn,

  • not taking that Leap of Faith and trusting even when others had shown them otherwise,
  • not embracing the love they found in a place they weren’t expecting,
  • not leaving the job that has caused them more misery than the security it provided,
  • not leaving that relationship,
  • saying No instead of Yes,
  • saying Yes instead of always No.

If we didn’t step into the unknown rather than settle for the familiar, it can become too late, as in the instance of my character’s story arc.

We are creatures of habit and within that there is a layer of fear of the unfamiliar and unknown.  I believe this fear leaves us in the soppy mess that we often find ourselves in. A dirty, unhappy but very comfortable place. Why?  Because this is what we know, what we are familiar with—it therefore becomes the only truth we believe in, because anything else, anything better, is not possible or to be lived by others.

By no means am I trying to simplify our lives and say that we are filled with a multitude of  choices by which we always turn a blind eye to.  What I do believe is that there is always a moment in our lives, however small or large that we do have an opportunity to choose; a decision that can either let the door crack open just enough to let the breeze in or simply see and experience something different.

I am not an blind optimist but I am always hopeful. Innately, I have always been a person that listened and cared when others don’t. I’ve often been let down or consumed with the pain of others—of individuals when they themselves don’t seem to be aware of or want to think about what they actually might be facing. Even with this, I remain ever hopeful.

Within the story I’ve created, it is my hope through witnessing my protagonist’s death the ones closest to him will value life and learn the lessons that needed to be learned. I see the main character of my story as the visionary—the poet and the one that needs to die.

I think it was said best by Michael Cunningham in his book The Hours

“Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. It’s contrast”  – Virgina Wolf

50,000 Words in 30 Days!!

Up until 4am last night/morning writing…..
Woke up at 12pm to start again.

Feeling like I’m about 4 weeks behind schedule and 9 hours too late. But I made it through the ugly NYC snow…. found a seat.. sipping a hot coco, and prepping for  NATIONAL NOVEL WRITING MONTH    http://www.nanowrimo.org/

-Beginning Nov 1st- November 30th

My hope is that this blog will be another tool to hold me accountable to something other than the sad looks I get from my dogs when I cop out of writing that day; but to also obtain some encouragement from seasoned professionals and newbies like me.

But above all, I want to share my experience as a new writer and soon to be author. Everywhere there are artists asking each other for advice and support in their field of work. Each guarding their “process” in creating and developing their craft but secretly wondering how others do it.

WHAT THE HELL….. being new I’m happy to share a little while hoping to gain some knowledge  as I make my way to the last word on the last page.


https://natashaguadalupe.wordpress.com/category/music-always-helps-me-write/

Music is one of the most important things I love and need when I’m creating.  So I listen to a lot of it as I write.  I will share one or two songs as I am actively listening to them  in those moments.


https://natashaguadalupe.wordpress.com/category/the-world-within-the-story/

I do a lot of research, and in doing so I find some really interesting things. So you see how I obtain the info I get while learning about some of my characters- I will post some of this information to the blog



https://natashaguadalupe.wordpress.com/category/novel-snipets/

After long week of writing…IF, I find a passage from my novel that makes sense & is understandable I will share.


https://natashaguadalupe.wordpress.com/category/me-in-action/

Because sometimes words are not enough


https://natashaguadalupe.wordpress.com/category/si-me-ves-llorrar/

Essentially, this is where I use poetry as a cathartic process of releasing the things that weigh heavy on my chest and grip my heart


https://natashaguadalupe.wordpress.com/category/tools-of-the-trade/

Because we (writers/ artists) all could use a little help… I will post resources, links, NaNoWriMo info including grants and fellowships.


Why I Write….

Because as I see and feel both pain & love, I want and need my experiences to become words that exemplify the beauty in both – 

– Natasha Guadalupe

The Guilt I Feel

By: Natasha Guadalupe

The guilt weighed heavy on me
One of desire, the craving of love,
and the need for normal.

It pulsated hard through my veins and bled to my lips.
Now swelled and stained from each pull and tug.

Now aware.
How do you explain the guilt that you feel?

Detach, disconnected
not related to me.

The disrobing of my dress, and revealed face
how do you explain the guilt that you see?

Awakened.

Opened wide, ready to give and now receive
how do you explain the gentleness and desire in front of me?

Selfish

As the word “Yes” rose through me
how do you explain the things that you need?

All body and no mind.

Detached, disconnected
not related to me.

Violation Came

By: Natasha Guadalupe

The self-indulgent voice shot through me like a long arrow
Forcefully entering my mind piercing my will

Its stiff feathers scathed my heart as it brushed against my spine
causing it to burn

Running along my underbelly to my pit
Hoggish and virile

Drumming and pulling at my cords
Only to release and shoot back up with a cry
My mind left stiff and confused

Penetrating The God of Walls

By: Natasha Guadalupe

Lasting for an instant, today and tomorrow.
Oshun’s warm waters flowed over the steep tower’s edge.

Empty corridors swelled,
as amber ripples swam.
Adorned and rich.

Palpitating against its gates
Primroses ignited.
His thirst quenched.

Eroding its structure,
dissolving its defenses,

Oshooon….went her waves,
seeping trough hidden chambers,
where casted dreams and fears lay.

Lucid now.

Who was she but a chisel,
rumbling the mortar loose.
Coaxing the brick wall to release and fall.

Agile and delicate her fingers were,
separating each block from its joint.

Pulling at the strength of his defense.
What gain could there have been
but imminent hurt,
an apparent offense.

Not worrying what will happen,
only what needed to be done,
He salvaged what remained

Body heaving, arms heavy.

Laying and interweaving;
each block placed as a foundation,
one on top of the next.

Tap tapping from the bottom to the top.
Disciplined and exact.

Trowels smoothing,
grout hardening.

Laid and now bonded.

Each line rebuilt.
Heart fortified.
Mind resistant.

Engulfed in fear, realizing truth
A God in the wall that was
A God in the wall that still is.

‘The ringing bells of the piragua cart…

‘The ringing bells of the piragua cart clicked clacked down the cobbled stone streets of Casica Blvd. They chimed the ugly truth that began to penetrate his mind.

It seeped through his skin like the cherry stained lips of school children licking the shaved mountains of ice. Each sparkling flake of snow flying out into the same sun that pressed upon his exposed face- blinding him from focusing on anything other than the past.’
-Sitting in a restaurant on Ashford Avenue, Condado Puerto Rico. I took this picture while writing this passage from my novel. It felt good.

Grants & Money for Writers/Artists

As much as I would like to say that I am full-time published writer, traveling from one city to the next on book tours, negotiating with producers for movie right deals….Alas no,  this is not the case.

I actually work full-time at a university as a grants (federal and private  foundation) administrator.  I’ve spent the last 8 years of my life cultivating private donors, researching and writing many grant proposals; each in an effort to obtain funds for many great non-profit programs I believe in, many of which work with the communities  that mean the most to me… Youth & Teens, HIV/AIDS programs and of course for Artists.

YES, I’ve been able to secure large amounts of funds (yup, a lot of $$) for non-profit organizations and groups over the years.. However, now that I am finally doing what I want to do most I’ve been trying to translate this skill  to help myself as a new writer.

Well, it’ has not been easy to say the least. Competition is high and resources are always limited. So in my research and learning this ‘new’ craft of trying to find funding I thought I share some of the things I have found…maybe something that may not work for me may work for you…..

QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Leave a comment or send email,  I will try my best to help. OR if you have info to share GREAT!!!!

WHAT WILL BE LISTED HERE? 

  • Info on Fellowships
  • Info on Grants
  • Helpful Links
  • Info on Proposal Writing Tips
  • Info on Free Writing or Artist Contests

STAY TUNED AN UPDATE WILL BE POSTED SOON on the top Home Page!!

My story takes place in the state of Washington

My story takes place in the state of Washington.  More specifically Bremerton and Bainbridge Island.  I wanted and needed a place that could be detached from the world, both with its physical isolation but also carry a sense of beauty.

Each of these things needed to be overshadowed by a big city in its direct view (Seattle).

Having never visited Washington I needed to familiarize myself with the area. I Googled and printed information on the local high school, where the police station was located and visited numerous realtor web sites and identified my main character’s apartment and layout.

After downloading numerous maps of streets and neighborhoods I said to myself….

1) I need to get my butt over there soon and

2) I need more information.

With that, I made up in my mind that this coming year I will fly out to WA for a few days and two, I decided to pick up the phone and call the Bremerton Chamber of Commerce.

I explained who I was and what I was doing (writing a novel that takes place in your neighborhood) and how I needed some information. The friendly voice on the other line replied “Sure! That sounds exciting, I think I can help”.  With that she sent mountains of maps, demographic information, newsletters and special events calendars.  I was so excited to open my mail each day until it arrived.  A little shy and nervous to call…but I’m very glad I did.

Thank you Bremerton Chambers of Commerce!!

Mapping out the Road they meet on…

Writing By Hand

I didn’t have my computer at the cafe last night, so I wrote…..by hand, with my best pen in my worn spiral notebook….

It felt good.

FYI excluding a few cross-outs its a really good way to not self edit (which I suffer from…badly) You can’t really go back and erase…you’ve got to keep moving.

Hardcore baby…. Laundromat and STILL typing! Ha!

‘The warmth of the water….

‘The warmth of the water caused the wet cedar planks to slowly perfume the air with the sweetness of flowing sap. Looking above the clearing of the cabin, the tangled branches seemed to reach up to the distant stars creating a jagged picture- framing both the night sky and crescent moon.

The late hour was made darker by the dense canopy of trees and brush painted deep shades of blue and gray.

Despite the soft illumination of her silhouette he was still able to take in the strength of her quite presence.

Through her shadowed face he knew she was looking at him, just as she always did. What was she thinking? She seemed to gaze at him with both sadness and clear desire.  How can both feelings and thoughts inhabit the same space and time yet separately carry through the minds of both Juan and Adriana.’

………AND SO THE EDITING AND WRITING CONTINUES.

Marine Rites

I’m supposed to be doing freelance now so I can go out to the movies later….So of course what am I doing???? Looking up Marine rite of passages and hair cut regulations for my main character.

How I’m spending my Saturday night …and LOVING IT!!!

Some Of The Tools I Use

Tools of the trade.. Books I’m reading to inspire and help structure my story (Oh yeah-that’s my bike helmet and doggie biscuits in the background..the essentials)

BOOKS TO INSPIRE

  • ‘Tinkers’ –  Fiction Novel By Paul Harding
  • ‘Brokeback Mountain’ Short Story By Annie Proulx. My absolute favorite short story.  But I mostly have it near me to remind me that I need to make every word count- short or long story writing.

BOOKS TO HELP WITH MY WRITING & STORY STRUCTURE

  • ‘Stephen King on Writing’ – By Mr. King himself. Not only helping with my writing but a small look at the man behind his most famous novels. Surprising and VERY interesting.
  • ‘The Writers Journey 3rd Edition’– By Christopher Vogler. The last thing I want is for my story to be too formulaic but since I’m new at this I need help with structure and for me this book has been AWESOME to read.  I’m also a big movie/ film buff. This book uses both mediums to help you identify story structure and character rolls. Thank you Mr. Vogler and of course Joseph Campbell!!!
  • ‘The First Five Pages’– By Noah Lukeman  Although this is more for once I finish or as I edit my novel, its still a great read as you prepare.

RESEARCH… Visiting the Bronx VA Hospital

Marines…….

Marines…….

OK, for research I’ve been interviewing a Marine (friend of a co-worker) and he’s been great, and very patient with all my dumb questions. Outside of his Boot Camp experience and our conversations about living life as a Marine one of the many things that stood to me during our talks was what or how to call a Marine.

He said NEVER identify a man or woman as an Ex-Marine and DON’T EVER ever call a Marine a Solider….why?

  • The Army has soldiers,
  • The Navy has sailors,
  • The Air Force has airmen.
  • BUT Marines are Marines!

ITS WILD…It actually brings me back to a time when I was in college and was visiting friends at Albany State. While hanging out at the dorms I met an Alpha  (Alpha Phi Alpha)  from the African American Greek Fraternity. We were talking about Greek life….etc…. so I asked him how was pledging for him?

” I DIDN’T PLEDGE!!! ALPHA’S GO THROUGH A PROCESS!”
Wow!!  Boy, I enjoy researching

Story boarding isn’t just for the movies….

 

Now the question is can I read my handwriting…hummm?

SEX LOVE AND WRITING

…..OK, so I want to incorporate a love scene into my story….Not wanting to use the language of smutty romantic novels and sugar sweetness of Twilight’s pillow biting scene, I’m doing a bit of research. Just how did the great novelists of our world go about adding sex and love into a story? Well here is an example how Gustave Flaubert who wrote Madame Bovary created a huge scandal in his scene. In the scene the clerk has convinced Madame Bovary to join him in a horse-driven cab with the blinds down. Now the moment of truth has arrived and she goes along with it because she doesn’t know what else to do. The cab driver is instructed to drive anywhere he chooses………………………………….(He was arrested shortly after writing this) I don’t think I want to be this subtle.

Here is a great site that provides you with tips in this area  http://rebeccalacko.wordpress.com/2011/05/27/feel-the-heat-sex-and-fiction-8-tips-for-building-tension/

Madame Bovary

Butler Library

The Grand Central of study halls.. Butler Library… 24hours of straight writing!!! 

‘Trying to focus on the sleepy warmth of his son’s body…..


‘Trying to focus on the sleepy warmth of his son’s body and the steady pace of his breathing, Juan wished for more time and more moments such as this.  Instead, his thoughts drifted to the beginning when the decision was first made, when the decision to be alone would affect both his and his son’s life…..’

1,154 words down 48,846 left!!!! Hoorah to NANO!” – (First try at last year’s National Novel Writing Month)