Beach Photos

I'm not known for my photography skills, but here are a few quick photos documenting our time at the beach.

Writer Chicks storm the beach. 

 

Maggie & Bernie: I can say I knew them "when"...

 

Lovin' the beach bum life.

Heading Home

I'm sitting in a chair in front of the large sliding glass doors in our room at Wrightsville Beach. I smell saltwater and the surf is pounding the sand on the beach below me. There is a man throwing a stick into the ocean and what looks like a large and very happy Golden Retriever is bounding into the waves after it. An old man, back hunched over, is jogging slow and steadily toward the pier a mile away. And a boy of about 10 is flying an orange kite.

It's been a lovely weekend. I've written over 6,000 new words and I think have figured out some missing pieces to my opening chapters. I was telling my friend Bernie that what I've enjoyed about this weekend is that it's allowed me to be completely in my story. I'm not writing anything else so I'm not thinking or worrying about anything else. My characters are fresh in my mind and I'm hearing dialogue even when I'm not writing. Although I"m looking forward to being home and seeing Blair, I'm sad to leave the world of my book behind.

Because I don't focus on the story at home like I've done this weekend. And really, I have no excuse not to. We chose our priorities in life and if I wanted writing this novel to be a priority, I would make it one. But I haven't, which speaks to where my mind is. And I know part of not choosing that is fear.  It's easier to talk about wanting to finish your book than it is to finish it.  Because what if you finish it and it stinks? It's a common fear among writers and want to be writers. The difference is that the real writers suck it up, write the words, and deal with the chance of them "stinking." After all, that's why God created rewrites.

I'd love to say I'm going to go home and work on my novel 3 hours each day, but I don't feel that's true. But I am motivated to at least try to bring more structure to my time spent on it. Right now, I work on my novel on Wednesday mornings for about 2 1/2 hours. I would like to write a certain number of words each day until the book is complete, then spend a certain number of hours each day editing.

So let's try that. 1,000 new words a day. They don't have to be great words and they don't have to be the final words. Just words. I should be able to knock out 1,000 words in an hour or so each day.

I'll report in later to see how it goes.. Meanwhile, it's almost time to pack up and say goodbye to the beach. 

Sunrise At The Beach

What a glorious start to the day! I woke up at twenty of six (one of my roommates was snoring--names omitted to protect the innocent) and hurriedly dressed, grabbed my room key, banana, notebook and pen and slipped out.  I walked out to the beach and was the ONLY person out there.  I was both thrilled and saddened. I loved having the beach and the sunrise to myself, but felt sad that there was a whole town of people who had the beauty of the beach and sunrise at their disposal but chose not to be there.  Maybe every day is so beautiful they just get used to it.

Or it could be the cold.  It was just warm enough that you couldn't see your breath--just barely. But I stood on the beach and looked from one pier far down the beach on my left to the other pier far down the beach on my right, and I was the only person. The surf crashed and foamed and flocks of sea birds circled the water. Every now and then one of them would dive bomb the water and come up with a small fish.

There was a quarter moon high in the sky and then the sun appeared at the far edge of the ocean.

It was this beautiful neon-pink color. As it rose (which was rapid -- maybe a minute before it appeared as a full round circle above the ocean) it turned to a neon-pink/red, then a neon-pink-orange. The light reflected on the surface of the water, the birds called to each other, the water crept nearer where I stood.  Just a wonderful start to the day.

So far it's been a great weekend. We wrote for hours yesterday in our room, taking a 30-minute break at one point to watch a pod(?) of dolphins feeding and playing in the water.  They were close to shore and from our 5th floor room we had a perfect view of them. We could see their tail fins as they dove and one time 3 of them rode in toward us on a wave. They were stunning. And, as Maggie said, good luck. We all three had a strong writing day.

I'm a little nervous about keeping up today.  It's exhausting to write and write and write. Yesterday I free-wrote on my story.  Not trying to write scenes in order, but rather just writing scenes as they occurred to me. They may or may not make it in the final book, but it's a way of staying in touch with your characters and exploring their personalities and seeing what they do in various situations. Also, it keeps my pen moving.  It's more important to just keep writing then it is to write "good." Writing good is what the editing process is about.

Okay, it's 7:20 AM and I'm hungry. I'll go see if there's any sign of life from Bernie and Maggie and if not, eat breakfast on my own.

Photos of Lucy Cat

Is there anyone more beautiful than my Lucy? She was curled up on the library couch today, snoozing in the sun and I couldn't resist snapping a few pictures.  Looking at them, is it any wonder why I love my cats the way I do?

I call this, "Trying not to glare at Mommy for waking me up from my nap with the stupid camera" pose.

"I rule all" pose.

"You bore me and now I will bathe myself" pose

"It's time for me to go back to sleep now" pose.