Sunday, July 2, 2000

Day Twenty-Two
I woke up feeling rested this morning -- a rare event here at Clarion -- and started writing the alternate universe story. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong viewpoint. Mary, Princess of Wales in our real universe, would be married to a foreign king in this one and thus leave court. Not a good POV choice. Back to my original idea of using someone else. I hesitate to drop too low, but suspect the best thing to do is use a servant of the household. Perhaps a chambermaid who watches from a hiding place and who hears all the gossip.
 
I need another book. All the web sites show that same awful picture of Catherine wearing a hat that conceals her hair. I suspect she was a brunette, but I do not know this. Had I seen only this picture, I would never have known she was a short, skinny teenager who hired a cobbler to invent the first high heels to make herself apear taller. I also have to change my original idea because she my research found a different side to her than what I'd read previously. I also desperately need a portrait of her with hair showing.

Update. I found a potrait and she had strawberry blonde hair, unless the artist took liberties with her coloration. Now I realize that her husband was a second son and it's unlikely Catherine could have snagged the heir to the English throne even if her uncle was pope. More to consider.

While stalled on this one, I printed out another 50 pages or so of research material and decided to write that take on the Tom Dooley story that I'd always wanted to write. Of course, my research material is at home so I can't use the correct place names. I can still do a first draft. The objective here is to experiment with a different voice and try just a dash of not-quite-dialect. Dialect, imho, imposes a burden upon the reader that can make the story crash and burn if not done exceedingly well and I don't have the skills to pull this off successfully. On the other hand, I can certainly try using the words and sentence structure that they used in that area about that time. I'll need to clean it up a little bit. People in that region were... well... poor white trash is about the best way to describe it. The townfolks were pretty well shocked when some of those mountain people came into town to testify. Hearing that Tom slept with Ann while her husband slept in the next bed and then sometimes he slipped over to the third bed to join Ann's cousin, Pauline... that's a little shocking even in this day and age.

And I get to throw in mountain magic. So far, 1,000 words into the story and expecting this one to stall out like the other dozen or so aborted attempts made thus far this weekend. Why is there no middle for me? It seems I'm always overwhelmed with ideas or hear that loud echo of nothingness. Never a single story singing loud and clear.

Under the heading, Life Goes On At Home, my daughter was driving to perform at a concert when her car was rear-ended. Clearly the other driver's fault. I am SO glad that I paid that insurance premium even though I told her again and again to get her own insurance policy. This means our insurance will cover the medical treatment and then file a claim with the other driver's insurance carrier. She's not covered under our medical insurance because she's not a full time college student. Picked up Jennifer at the airport. Enroute, I missed the turn and thus came in from the other direction. It was raining and I decided to NOT race the yellow light. The driver behind me evidently thought I was going to drive straight through and he'd ride my tail and I think there was a paper edge-width between his fender and my bumper. He went sideways, up onto the curb to avoid hitting me and damaged his wheel. I suppose I should have stopped... but I was running a little late and I didn't DO anything to cause him to hit the curb other than stopping when I was supposed to stop. The light would have turned red while I was in the intersection and before he ever pulled through so I didn't feel a great deal of sympathy.

I have discovered that Lansing drivers outside the university drive much like Chicago taxi cab drivers. Never yield an inch and sit on everyone's bumper. They make me a little nervous. Every time I stopped at a stoplight, I expected to be hit.

I finished the Tom Dula ghost story. It's about 3,700 words and shorter than I would have liked but the right length for the idea. Actually, I think it should probably be a little shorter. Good enough for a first draft, though.

I have so many stories written that I don't have much incentive to keep writing and thus I'm forgetting the whole bit about my work being critiqued and just concentrating on writing the best I can and trying new and different things with each piece. I also remind myself that it's not how many stories you write at Clarion or how well you write them but how much you learn and progress and then how you go forward from here. Hopefully, I'm squeezing some of that in there.

The Owen Cafeteria closed early due to the holiday so when we returned, we cleaned up and then Jennifer, Mark and I went out to Denny's. People are beginning to notice that I don't eat much. I've put Hawaiian Sweet Bread into the bread machine and I'll find out what that smells like tonight. Thus far, the cinnamon bread and the chocolate bread are the most aromatic. I seem to have good dreams when I bake those.

Linda

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