Buckets, buckets, buckets! That’s how I deal with the toystravaganza in my living room, in case anyone was wondering. I buy buckets.
And yes, I have tried organizing the buckets by theme or color or shape or character set and it doesn’t matter. The kid likes to dump out buckets. So my system of organization goes like this:
This gray bucket is for all the things near the gray bucket.
This white bucket is for all the things near the white bucket.
There’s a red bucket over here. It’s pretty big so it’ll hold the stuff near it PLUS some stuff from over there that doesn’t fit in the gray and white buckets.
These buckets are the trash/recycling cans. This is where I put all of the paper/cardboard bits of crap the kid often finds more exciting than the toys themselves. I let him play with them for a little while, sure. But then they find their way into these buckets and thereafter LEAVE the play area.
And that’s my genius system. I should put it on Pinterest. That’s what you do, right?
How’s Kiss-Virgin Dork Baby for the title of a coming of age story? I like it because I think I’m funny but knowing most people aren’t me, I thought I should ask for opinions.
It wouldn’t be the holidays without a giant clusterf*ck crisis at work so I’ve been off the internet and on the clock for almost 3 times my normal work schedule this week. That means no writing, no blogging, no tweeting and most of my Facebook activity took place on the potty, the only place I could scroll through my feed for three seconds without someone shouting FIRE! FIRE! and handing me a cup of lukewarm water to put it out with.
For now, I’ve got the flame contained to a dumpster out back and I’m planning on letting it simmer while I go “enjoy” my two days off with the fam. But it’s back to work on Monday to try not to get too burnt.
Merry happies to my blogging community. May your dumpster fire be easily extinguished.
I mentioned in my last post the SheShouldRun.org Incubator which, by the way, I’m finding to be enormously helpful in finding my own strengths and ways for me to take on more of a leadership role in my work and life RIGHT NOW, even without running for office. I also mentioned how it’s helping me discover more about the character of my main WIP, a story I am having all sorts of trouble finishing.
Thank you writing prompts, I’ve found the reason why:
Almost all of the 56,000 words I’ve written so far have been Rising Action. I thought I had written a climax but it only addresses half of the conflict, the personal portion. It doesn’t address the social part of the conflict at all!
And here I am trying to END the story. Silly.
So now I’m in this weird place where I know there’s a ton more to be written and I have a bit of an idea of what’s going to happen but I haven’t really set up an adequate amount of foreshadowing, so there’s also a whole bunch of editing I’ll have to do, and now that NaNoWriMo is over, I don’t have quite the motivation to keep up with my word count.
Also, my son is transitioning to afternoon naps so writing time is now dubious and not entirely guaranteed every day.
Meanwhile, I’ve got this completed first draft on hold from October which I’d rather be working on.
So… maybe… it wouldn’t hurt if I took a break from my Nano WIP and went back to the completed story? NaNoWriMo isn’t even looking for a “revision promise” until January. And I’m the boss of me.
Friends, fellow writers, people who have expressed interest in reading this WIP, here is my official notice of project switching. I’m going back to my campground/coming of age story. Starting………. NOW.
Ladies, listen up!
Whether or not you have any political aspiration whatsoever (because I don’t really at all), you need to check out this organization and seriously consider signing up for their Incubator.
Not only will the lessons and activities help solidify in your own mind who you are, what you stand for, who you want to help and what the best way may be for you to effect change in the world, but the resources I’ve come across so far have helped me as a writer to nail the central conflict in my latest WIP, gain a better understanding of my character, and ground the events in terms of real world consequences.
I don’t know that I’m cut out to be the kind of leader they’re looking to incubate but I do feel like writers and storytellers and media makers have a great deal of influence on society. I would like to use whatever influence I have to help the people I feel like I could help and bring to light the issues that I feel need to be explored and resolved.
And if it’s not for you, maybe you know someone who would be interested. Maybe you know someone who should be nominated. Maybe you don’t even know whether or not you would be interested until you checked it out. Regardless, a resource like this needs to be shared!
Fellow self-published authors, I am happy to announce that three copies of the paperback version of my book were purchased this week!
And I shamelessly admit that I bought all three: one for me, one for my mom, and one for my grandmother. Also, I overcharged myself and it hurt more than a little to pay shipping and handling on something I wrote myself but… you know…
Anyone else watching this? Thoughts? Because I’m sorta LOVING it.
I am not a proponent of vigilantism in the real world but fictitiously, I feel like it gives its audience something most of us can’t get in real life. That sense of exhilaration and adrenaline you get watching horror or kung fu movies gains a higher sense of purpose, especially for the feminists among us, when you see these college gals kicking some rapist ass. Because let’s be honest, no matter how many self defense classes most of us take, we’re not going ham on some douche after breaking into his dorm room. There are consequences in the real world. There are alarm systems and witnesses and police investigations and criminal trials and, you know, jail.
But watching it happen on TV, maaaan, that’s some good stuff right there. Makes me want to… go punch a punching bag. Because that’s as real as it gets for some of us. And I’m ok with that.
I was cranky yesterday but I’m seeing all you kind people liking and following and I feel bad I got all down on this blog hop thing yesterday.
I’m back on the hop and liking away today!
Listen, I was all for this blog-hopping thing when it came about because I figured it would be a handful of people I could, you know, like network with. I follow you, you follow me, cool enough.
But 400 people? I have to scroll through all these lists, clicking on each link, liking, backing up, scrolling down, clicking on the next link, liking.
I want to do it. If I could click a couple of buttons and follow all those writer people, support them by upping their follower numbers and whatnot, I would absolutely do it.
But I get 60-90 minutes a day when I’m not 1) working, 2) caring for the child, or 3) sleeping and I just spent an hour–AN HOUR–clicking and liking and I’m not even 1/4 of the way through ONE list.
I’ll try again, I swear. But I just gave up my entire writing time today for a bunch of people who, let’s be honest, aren’t planning on doing me any favors.
Because yeah… my son’s waking up now. I mean… this is not the best use of my time. There has got to be a better way.
Excerpt from my as yet untitled (and unfinished) NaNoWriMo WIP:
“How is this still the way things are?” Daya said, defeated. She shrugged and stared out the window.
Catori was thoughtful for a moment. She thought about all the women who had sacrificed their own lives and safety to get them what they did have. Why more women didn’t make such huge sacrifices. Why she didn’t.
“Because most of us are too busy trying not to drown to save each other?” she asked and in her mind, she tried to take responsibility for her own part. She tried to justify that she was making a difference as a professional women in a field originally dominated by men. Then she remembered Enid’s description of her interactions with her male coworkers. “Fluttery and coy” couldn’t possibly be working in the favor of women’s rights. She was too embarrassed by this new realization to comment further.
“Because we’re too busy second-guessing ourselves to ask for what we need,” Daya answered with conviction. “Not a day goes by that I don’t doubt I’m doing my best to care for my son. I know I am. How could I not be? But I still doubt myself. Every time one of my male coworkers questions my knowledge, I stop and check myself. ‘Do I really know that to be true? I think so. But I could be wrong,’ and then whatever I say sounds unsure and my credibility is gone.”
“I know the feeling,” Catori said.
“We all do.”