Another Year of Writing Books

Every year on my birthday, I do a whole thing where I recommit to writing for one more year.

This isn’t an official recommitment ceremony or anything like that. It’s just a thing I’ve done the past few years that I’ve enjoyed doing, so I’ve kept doing it.

This year, because my actual birthday was a gloomy, rainy, lonely thing, I celebrated with a new journal, which I needed, and some new stickers, which I wanted, and a couple of pens and markers, which matched and were also on sale.

I’ve learned over the years to pay attention to the universe when it’s screaming messages at you at the top of its lungs. This, I think, was one of those times. And I’m still not exactly sure what it was saying, only that it was saying something, and maybe that is enough for me to shut up, lean in, and listen.

Another thing I need to do more of?

Talking.

Or blogging.

Sharing.

Whatever.

Years ago, when I used this blog to jot down writing thoughts between classes. Back then, everybody had a blog, so me having a blog felt a lot less like me having a blog.

I’ve talked before about how useful it was to write down thoughts, share them with others, and how the conversations (and the friendships) that came out of those times shaped the foundation of who I am as a writer.

I like to think I’m a better writer because of the smol effort I put into a smattering of words ten years ago.

I know I am a better person because of the friends I met.

Journaling hasn’t had the same impact for me. I still do it, three pages every day, a holdover from my time doing Morning Pages through Julia Cameron’s Artist’s Way practice.

But I miss sharing with others. I miss working riding the highs and lows with writer friends.

I don’t know what that looks like, though. I don’t know if it looks like a podcast or a blog or something else entirely. I’m here because this is where I left you last, this is what is most familiar and where I feel most comfortable.

And to be frank, I am tired tonight and don’t feel like learning a new app.

If you’re out there, maybe it’s enough to say:

I’m out here, too. I’m writing a big, scary thing. I’m turning in another big, scary thing this week, for the first time in a couple of years.

Hi. My name is Liz. I write books. It’s nice to meet you.

4 Months

So this week I'm stuck writing an essay, so today you get KITTEH PICTURES!

Here's Nathan Fillion at four (and a half!) months old:

He still gives the best snuggles you can imagine. He's still a bottomless pit. He still sleeps on my pillow (technically, though there isn't much pillow left for me at this point). He still kisses me goodnight.

This is his brother Ephraim:

Ephraim has the best belly of the bunch. Too bad touching it tends to launch the worst stink bomb you can imagine.

I also decided to redo my office (again) a few weeks ago. It's still a work of progress, but the painting is done:

And thanks to Elvis and Nancy, so is most of my interior decorating:

I also found this way cute rug at Pier 1 at 90% off:

I know, right? Just how cute is that rug?

But it's not as cute as Emma, AKA my new seat cushion:

Happy Wednesday! And if you're feeling particularly generous, I wouldn't mind a prayer or two for a snow day tomorrow!

More On Plotting

I took a shot of this the day of finals, and just now got around to pulling it off my phone.  Here, we have: a short outline, a long outline, notebook, hair clip, lip balm, colored index cards, pencils, highlighters, black ink pen (very important), white index cards, and Blake Snyder's SAVE THE CAT.

Then, when I have a good idea of where I'm going, it all gets input into Scrivener, like this:

I typically try to write from beginning to end, but there are some scenes I know out of order, so I don't feel bad spending a few minutes getting those down as they come to me.

Full-screen mode is great for times when Twitter gets in the way of productivity:

I'm also partial to my timer-bomb, which keeps me from feeling overwhelmed:

But the real secret to writing well is having tons of these:

HOTCH SNUGGLES!!!!

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Three Months

Since September, little Nathan Fillion has gone from this:

To this:

He's spoiled rotten and absolutely fearless. I can't wait to see what he gets into next.

(Note: Ignore the date on the photo. My camera hasn't worked well since that time I dropped it in the toilet.)