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My writer brain showed up in yet another random location last night – the blackjack table. For all of you who’ve sat at gambling tables for any length of time, you’ll know what I mean when I say that gamblers are a mixed bunch. Whether I go to my local establishment, which is where I was last night, or I gamble in Las Vegas, which I’ve done a few times ;-), I always encounter a wide assortment of people. From obvious differences in clothes and mannerisms to more subtle differences in temperament and speech patterns, it’s never a dull night at the casino.

But last night, I again experienced my transformation from judgmental observer to a writer who’s interested in building a mental catalog of characters to draw from.

A sort of disheveled man approached the table, the dealer was shuffling so we had a down moment or two to wait, and as we waited, he proceeded to count of a handful of bills he’d had clutched in his hands when he walked up. His hands shook as he spread them out on the player side of the table. First two tens, then two fives, and a couple of ones to round things out. Thirty-two dollars in total. Nothing to sneeze at for sure, but not much for a table with a minimum bet of ten dollars a hand.

I continued to watch our newest player as the dealer finished her shuffling and converted his cash to chips. Not only did his hands shake while he was counting out the cash, but they continued to shake as he settled into the stool and adjusted his position and his chips. He rested one hand beneath the other and finally seemed to ready himself to play.

The cards were placed back in the chute after another player cut the deck, and I thought that was the end of my brief character study, but I was wrong. And the reason I was wrong was because of the initial impression I’d formed. The small buy in, the shaky hands, and the man’s disheveled appearance all made me think that he was a fish out of water, either inexperienced or underfunded, but either way I didn’t think he’d last long. Players do have a tendency to come and go at a blackjack table.

Well, the first couple of hands seemed to confirm my thoughts and I pulled myself away from studying the man long enough to concentrate on a couple of hands of my own (I’m pleased to say I won those two hands. Can’t always say that 🙂 But my writer brain was shaken back into action from how the man played, and the way he went about engaging the other players at the table. Although his first couple of hands wiped out his thirty-two dollars, he didn’t leave, he didn’t complain to the dealer – some people do that for some reason – no, he just pulled out more money and settled in for a few more hands. He chatted up the other players and flashed a smile that really lit up his face, transforming his windblown and slightly unwashed face into a handsome image that was relateable. Well, that caught my attention faster than my own money being pulled from me as the result of a bust hand.

I realized my first impression was wrong, and beyond that, it was actually the reverse of reality. Because the man with shaky hands and just a thirty-two dollar buy in, pulled out money for a third time, and began coaching the less experienced player to his left. His tips and play showed me that he was not only completely comfortable at a blackjack table, but that he was sharp as well.

Suffice it to say, that my writer brain was in overdrive by this time. I began to look beyond my initial impression, studying the clothes he wore and coming up with reasons for the dichotomy between his appearance and his reality. A couple of possible storylines presented themselves; each of which could build out into a short or make him a character to watch in a novel. But it confirmed for me what I realized when I had my little experience at Starbucks (see my post from last month), my transformation into a writer is complete (Well, complete might be the wrong word. Since I can always learn more, it’ll probably never be complete in the finished sense of the word.) Regardless of how long it takes to move toward publication – and hopefully that’s not too long 😉 – the last few years of working on my craft and writing daily have produced what I’ve always wanted. I’m a writer. A real writer. It feels good to say that.

And now I have yet another character in my filing cabinet of a brain. I hope the man he’s built upon came away from that table a winner. I know this writer did.

So I just got back from Starbucks with a steaming hot vanilla latte. Great way to start a lazy Sunday, right? I think so. Apparently a number of other people felt the same way because the drive through was packed. I could have gone inside, but because it’s a lazy Sunday I was in my pajamas, and so I wanted the anonymity of my car. So as I’m waiting for the four cars ahead of me, I looked back at the car behind me, and this is what I saw:  a woman smoking a cigarette in the driver’s seat and a small pair of feet resting on the dashboard. My first instinct was a mother’s instinct; I thought about how that poor kid was getting exposed to cigarette smoke.

But then another perspective stepped in – that of the writer. I took note of the bags under her eyes, the fact that the cigarette and her nicely manicured hand hung out the window until she wanted to inhale, several times she laid her head back against the headrest as if exhausted. Then my writer brain went further, and I noticed the condition of her car – newer, but signs of wear around the wheelwells – and I listened to her order – a chai tea with soy milk.

And what do you know, a character and storyline began forming. I imagined a woman who was newly divorced. Her husband a successful guy who’d walked away for a younger woman and left her with four kids. I imagined that two of the kids were little – too little for school – and the other two were a challenge, maybe one of whom is autistic. I thought it would be interesting if she was unaccostomed to having to work hard, but she was fiercely devoted to her kids. The old her relied on nannies to help carry the burden, and the new her was exhausted from experiencing all of the work a family that size requires.

At first I thought the ex-husband being a jerk who left her for a younger woman would be good, but then I thought about how much more interesting it would be if he wasn’t a complete jerk. Maybe he initially left her because she didn’t make room in her life for him, focusing exclusively on the kids and her charity relating to autism. Only later did he bring in the younger woman, showing that he may have also had other reasons for leaving. This would undermine her confidence as she plowed forward with rebuilding her life and add tension to their co-parenting relationship. I like tension. 🙂

All of this character and story building took place in my head as I waited for my coffee, and I had to chuckle to myself. Just a few years ago, I would have just left my judgement at: why is that lady smoking with a kid in the car?

I’m a bit late. Okay, okay I’m more than a little late. I guess it’s more like seven days late. *hanging my head in shame*

But I am here.

So, here comes my great insecurity for the past week – going to my first writing conference. I spent this past weekend with over four hundred other writers, agents, editors, etc… discussing my craft, making my first agent pitch (whew, was I nervous about that), and connecting with other writers in my area.

After all of my insecurity, and a few additional beats of my heart (that sounds cheesy even to me) 😉 it turns out that I had a wonderful experience. I participated in a fantastic critique group, connected with several writers who I can continue to network with, and I successfully pitched my book to an agent. Let me say that again a little louder: I SUCCESSFULLY PITCHED MY BOOK TO AN AGENT. After hearing my pitch, one of the attending agents has agreed to read my first three chapters, and…

I don’t know where it will lead, but all in all it was a very exciting first conference.

So, I guess the title for this entry could be: A Less Insecure Writer Make Up Post. 🙂

I’ve been a bit busy over the last few weeks. I admit it – I’ve been a bad blogger * head hangs in shame* ;). To make it up to the blogosphere I plan on writing two this week. This is the first, and the second will be in the next few days. Stay tuned for that second one because I have so much to say about the writing conference I went to. Oh, it was a FANTASTIC experience.

A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks, but by far the most important is hearing back from the Colorado Gold Writing Contest.

Does that last sentence make you think I won, or at least qualified for something? Well, I won’t leave you hanging too long. *insert evil laugh* But first I need to explain what was at stake. The Colorado Gold Contest accepts the first twenty pages of a novel. They accept submissions in a variety of genres, but the caveat is that they must be unpublished. The prizes are: a nominal cash amount for the ultimate winner, and a guaranteed editor or agent read of entries that make it to the finals. The second part was what I was hoping for, drooling over is more like it.

Now I knew my chances were lower than some of the other submissions – Silent Witnesses is my first novel – but I wanted to enter anyways. Why you ask? Why not polish myself up a bit more and present a fully-formed writer to the world? Well, the answer is complex. My primary reason was to gather valuable feedback, but a secondary – although almost equally important –  reason was that I wanted to challenge myself. I’m not always totally motivated intrinsically. I sometimes need a little outside pressure to raise my anxiety and push myself to act, sharing my novel with judges and leaving it open to their critique provided just the anxiety-inducing impetus I needed to polish up my first few chapters and press forward with my overall revisions.

So, I won’t leave you in suspense any longer – drum roll please… I didn’t win. I know you’re shocked and dismayed. The world is not the same place it was when you woke up, right? Well, it’s okay, it really is. It’s okay because I received very valuable feedback and praise. Some of the feedback the judges gave me helps me fix a logic problem through the first portion of my book. It’s something that my beta readers have previously mentioned, but that I didn’t know how to address. Finally, lightning struck as I read my critique, and so I have a solution to a niggling problem that was dragging my first chapter down. Yeah! The best part by far of the critique, though, was the praise. Both judges commented on how strong each voice is, and that’s tremendously important given that I have three 1st person POVs. Apparently I’m walking that tightrope pretty successfully.

It’s the first Wednesday in August and time for the Insecure Writer’s Support Group. This is a supportive network of writers who post about their writing insecurities and then hop to the blogs of other writers to commiserate with everyone else. It’s a great idea, and I’m thrilled to be a participant. If you’d like to support some of the other writers involved,  click here: http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com/p/insecure-writers-support-group.html

As to my own personal insecurity, well, it centers around time. I worry that with all of my other life responsibilities I’m giving my novel short shrift, and in doing so, I’m limiting the possibility of the story developing into what I originally envisioned. I’m been working on my book for over a year now, and I’ve made great strides, but I want more. I want the book to meet my own personal expectations, and, hopefully, find an audience someday. Can that happen if it’s being written in small snatches of time? Will it?

So there is a construction project at a shopping center in a city near where I live. They are tearing down an old mall and creating a shopping plaza. Sounds great, huh? Well, in the meantime, there are still two active stores, and I went to one the other day.

And what do you think I saw when I came out the side door? That’s right,  the wall above. A single wall, standing all by itself in a space that used to have about half a dozen stores. One wall, with not one, not two, not three, but four doors. And I began thinking to myself, why this wall? Why would they demolish all of the walls, stores, hallways, and closets between this wall and the store you still see in the background, but leave one exterior wall?

Well, as you can imagine, my mind began to come up with all kinds of possibilities. Possibilities like: dimensional doorways, secret below-ground meeting spaces, alien conspiracies, enchanted spells, and drunken construction workers. It was such a strange sight that I actually returned this morning to take the picture above for my blog.

What do you think? Does an image like this prompt story nuggets for anyone but me?

As a writer, I’m interested in articles or blog posts about copyright when I stumble on them. What I hadn’t spent much time thinking about are the images I use in my online writing, Facebook, and now this blog. I was reading through one of the blogs I follow (Chasing Dreams), and I found a link to a cautionary tale for anyone – but particularly writers – who posts, shares, and communicates online:  http://www.roniloren.com/blog/2012/7/20/bloggers-beware-you-can-get-sued-for-using-pics-on-your-blog.html#disqus_thread .

Now I’m off to search through all of my online images.

Edited comment –
After searching and deleting any images I didn’t have rights to, I found a background image for this blog on Creative Commons. The image requires attribution only, so my thanks go out to JanetR3 for the wonderful tree image.

So who in the world am I? And why am I adding another blog to the glut of blogs online?

Well, I’ll answer the first question first. I am a writer, teacher, mother, wife, and reader. I know you’re thinking to yourself: not another writer’s journey blog. Right? Well, kind of. I’m hoping this blog will be more than that, and I promise to try to explore more than just my own writing works. As a person who wears multiple hats, I’m interested in a myriad of things, and I hope to get to share them with you.

As to the second question about why I’m adding yet another blog. The answer is because I am a writer, and as I’ve moved through the process of writing my first novel, Silent Witnesses, I’ve come to the realization that writing is truly what I’m passionate about. I love the writing process and I’m interested in communicating with other writers and readers beyond my own keyboard. So, feel free to post your comments about writing, great books you’ve read, or any other random thought you have, and I promise I’ll do the same.