A challenge
Written by Ann Dee Ellis   
Monday, 23 August 2010

Hello Lovelies.

Today I have much to report.

1. The Writing for Charity event was great for many reasons:

  • I couldn't put my folding chair up while everyone in my group was introducing themselves and I kept smiling and this should be so easy heh heh heh and don't look at me until finally so nice Kristen Chandler put my chair up. I had to have someone PUT MY CHAIR UP FOR ME. I have problems.
  • The breakout session was great--I got to hang out with three different but talented writers (you, Renae).
  • I got to see a lot of writer friends that I never see.
  • They raised a pretty impressive amount of money for a great cause--getting books in the hands of every child. Yay.

2. When I got home from the event I found that my husband had bought these chairs for our kitchen table. I like them. I also like sitting in them. In fact, as I was sitting in one of them my oldest (the three year old), he said, do you like these Mom?

I said, yes. Yes I do.

He said, good.

Then I said, I am a little worried I might fall through this hole though.

He said, don't worry. Your bum is way way way way big so you won't fall through it.

It is true. I will never ever ever fall through one of those chairs. It's such a relief.

3. I got writing done. All week I kept my word count goal.

So a good week.

Then Sunday hit.

You know when you get up early. You go to bed late. You eat big gallons of chocolate and peanut butter. And you don't exercise? You know that? But you say, my kids,  I took care of my kids. My writing. I took care of my writing. My house. It didn't fall down.

I found out that those things are important but you can't keep them up if you do bad things to your body.

Cam was like, ummm, are you okay? and I was laying in bed and I could not get up. I tried. I really tried. but I was so so so so tired. Even after my nap I was tired. I was zombie and aching and growing pains achy. Like I'm not eating enough bananas.

He said, how are you going to do this, school starts in a week.

I said, I know.

He said, and you need to write your book.

and I said, I know.

He said, you need to take care of yourself.

and I said, what?

and then I realized he was true.

This is all to say I have an idea.

A challenge.

Challenge #1: Word Count

I don't want to give up my word count because I can't. I have to get a dirty draft out now whether I like it or not.

My goal is 2001 words a day, six days a week, until the relaunch of this blog on September 13th.

I chose this goal because Stephen King once said,

'I like to get 10 pages a day, which amounts to 2,000 words," says Stephen King in his new memoir, On Writing. "That's 180,000 words over a three-month span, a goodish length for a book." When he's working on a book, which is most of the time, he writes every day of the year, and that "includes Christmas, the Fourth, and my birthday".

So my goal is to beat Mr. King. Just for three weeks. And I am not. NOT going to worry if the words are bad. If they are so bad I want to cry. I am going to truly write bad words (not like that) every day. I am going to do it every night after the kids are asleep. I should be writing right now.

I also saw this blog. If this girl can design and refashion a dress every day, why can't I write 2000 words a day? Nevermind she doesn't have a job or kids, still. Okay maybe this just fascinates me and has nothing to do with writing but I love looking at it because I could never ever do it.

So 2001 words a day, six days a week.

Challenge #2: No sugar. The WHOLE three weeks.

I may take one vacation day because of an event I have to attend that will include something I must eat but other than that, I feel that in order to be my best, I should be more conscious of my body. So I'm taking a sugar break. I'm also going to try to eat more brain food. At the Writing for Charity event, Wendy Toliver, said she ate lots of avocados while she wrote her book. I was like, duh, I should eating buckets of avocados. that's my problem. So these three weeks I am going to eat buckets of avocados and blueberries.

Challenge #3: Workout. At least four times a week.

And pushing my kids up a big hill counts. It counts big time. I've been slacking since the marathon. For awhile I was hiking but now I just sit around and talk about how I ran a marathon and this neighbor's like, You? You?

and Yes, me.

And he said, so did you just stop cold turkey running when it was over.

I looked at him. And looked. And looked.

Then I said, yes. yes I did.

But no more! Four times a week.

Challenge #4 Go to bed at a reasonable hour. Like before midnight. Maybe even before eleven.

I know i am not getting enough sleep. I know it. And my kids and husband and writing and life is suffering because of it. So sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

That's all.

It's a big lofty challenge but I'm going to try. I'm also not going to beat myself up if I mess up one day or two or three, I'm just going to keep at it. If I make it with almost no mistakes the entire three weeks I am going to treat myself to a red mango on September 13th. With toppings. And my book will maybe be almost done and that in itself will be so so so happy worth it.

Who is with me? At least a few of the challenges? We'll call it the PLEASELETMEDOTHIS challenge. Or something like that.

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Most Important
Written by Ann Dee Ellis   
Monday, 09 August 2010

Sometimes I lose stuff. Almost never but usually all the time. Like when someone says let's meet at X and I say, Okay. Call me when you leave.

Then I put my phone down and get ready, get kids ready, then don't know where phone is.

Where is phone? I search. Everywhere. Under clothes. Down in the bathroom. Where was I when I had it? And I can't believe how much ground and mess I've covered since that phone call. It could be anywhere. And what if they've already called and it's buried under my underwear I was folding when I made the plans? Or maybe it's downstairs,  or maybe they haven't called and it's in a totally obvious spot? Are they already there? Should I just leave without the phone? But what if they haven't even left yet? What if they've decided not to go? Where is my phone? Where is my phone?

This happens only like six times a day to me. I need a landline.

One time I was sick of losing my dollar bills. I was telling my roommates about this problem and then as a joke, stuck a wad of cash down my bra.

This is where I should keep it, I said.

Yeah, they said.

I was so funny back then.

So then I got busy and forgot the money was there and eventually ended up on campus. I was walking along when a boy I sort of knew but not all the way knew, came running up.

Ann Dee, I am so glad to see you. I have to print up an ad for my class in fifteen minutes and i forgot my wallet. Do you have any  money?

Sure, i said. Because I knew I had some cash.

But then I couldn't find it. What? Where is that money.

Hang on, I was telling him.

I check my pockets. My bag. He's saying oh please, please find it.

i'm getting that crazy feeling, the feeling I had just been discussing earlier and oh wait  . . . .

Oh. I say.

What? he says.

Nothing.

What? Do you have it?

No.

You don't?

I mean yes.

Yes?

Yes.

I put my hand down my shirt and hand him a sweaty wad of dollar bills.

He look at it. Looks at me. Looks back at it.

Thanks, he says.

No problem.

And that was the end (I did wonder if he'd ask me out after that but he didn't)

This is a long long long way to say I have been searching for my BIRD BY BIRD book for about an hour. I finally found it but what is my problem? I've talked about this problem before, my meandering messy everywhere way of living my life and, I've discovered, writing my novels. It makes everything so much more complicated: simple tasks turn into huge ordeals. What takes some organized, disciplined, all-together people five minutes, takes me three and a half hours. It's aggravating.

But.

BIRD BY BIRD. Have you read it?

I have been really struggling with my book I'm writing. I mean really struggling and it's been a battle. The writing process has felt bigger and scarier and whatiffier, I keep knowing that I'm going to have go back and rewrite rewrite rewrite maybe a thousand times and I haven't been enjoying it. I keep thinking, is this worth it? What am I doing? Why is this so hard? There are so many other ways I could be spending my time.

Then I started reading BIRD BY BIRD.

Anne Lamott says,

But I still encourage anyone how feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all that it is cracked up to be. But writing is. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do--the actual writing--turns out to be the best part. It's like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward.

Sometimes I go through life, particularly my writing life, letting small things get me down. I let things outside of writing, things that are on the periphery, rule my center. The thing is, the joy is in the writing. When you hit a scene, when you finally discover who a character is, when you realize that the first fifty pages are crap. Even that is exciting. because you're getting somewhere. you're becoming better at what you do. you're making a story real. And true. And better. even if it is in the least efficient way possible.

I'm trying to relearn how to let myself go. To let my characters barge over my plot and put me in my place because I'm realizing that's the only way to write it right. I need to have fun and let everything else go. Only then will I get back to the real reason why I write. Sweaty money in my bra.

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Most Important
Written by Ann Dee Ellis   
Monday, 09 August 2010

Sometimes I lose stuff. Almost never but usually all the time. Like when someone says let's meet at X and I say, Okay. Call me when you leave.

Then I put my phone down and get ready, get kids ready, then don't know where phone is.

Where is phone? I search. Everywhere. Under clothes. Down in the bathroom. Where was I when I had it? And I can't believe how much ground and mess I've covered since that phone call. It could be anywhere. And what if they've already called and it's buried under my underwear I was folding when I made the plans? Or maybe it's downstairs,  or maybe they haven't called and it's in a totally obvious spot? Are they already there? Should I just leave without the phone? But what if they haven't even left yet? What if they've decided not to go? Where is my phone? Where is my phone?

This happens only like six times a day to me. I need a landline.

One time I was sick of losing my dollar bills. I was telling my roommates about this problem and then as a joke, stuck a wad of cash down my bra.

This is where I should keep it, I said.

Yeah, they said.

I was so funny back then.

So then I got busy and forgot the money was there and eventually ended up on campus. I was walking along when a boy I sort of knew but not all the way knew, came running up.

Ann Dee, I am so glad to see you. I have to print up an ad for my class in fifteen minutes and i forgot my wallet. Do you have any  money?

Sure, i said. Because I knew I had some cash.

But then I couldn't find it. What? Where is that money.

Hang on, I was telling him.

I check my pockets. My bag. He's saying oh please, please find it.

i'm getting that crazy feeling, the feeling I had just been discussing earlier and oh wait  . . . .

Oh. I say.

What? he says.

Nothing.

What? Do you have it?

No.

You don't?

I mean yes.

Yes?

Yes.

I put my hand down my shirt and hand him a sweaty wad of dollar bills.

He look at it. Looks at me. Looks back at it.

Thanks, he says.

No problem.

And that was the end (I did wonder if he'd ask me out after that but he didn't)

This is a long long long way to say I have been searching for my BIRD BY BIRD book for about an hour. I finally found it but what is my problem? I've talked about this problem before, my meandering messy everywhere way of living my life and, I've discovered, writing my novels. It makes everything so much more complicated: simple tasks turn into huge ordeals. What takes some organized, disciplined, all-together people five minutes, takes me three and a half hours. It's aggravating.

But.

BIRD BY BIRD. Have you read it?

I have been really struggling with my book I'm writing. I mean really struggling and it's been a battle. The writing process has felt bigger and scarier and whatiffier, I keep knowing that I'm going to have go back and rewrite rewrite rewrite maybe a thousand times and I haven't been enjoying it. I keep thinking, is this worth it? What am I doing? Why is this so hard? There are so many other ways I could be spending my time.

Then I started reading BIRD BY BIRD.

Anne Lamott says,

But I still encourage anyone how feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all that it is cracked up to be. But writing is. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do--the actual writing--turns out to be the best part. It's like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward.

Sometimes I go through life, particularly my writing life, letting small things get me down. I let things outside of writing, things that are on the periphery, rule my center. The thing is, the joy is in the writing. When you hit a scene, when you finally discover who a character is, when you realize that the first fifty pages are crap. Even that is exciting. because you're getting somewhere. you're becoming better at what you do. you're making a story real. And true. And better. even if it is in the least efficient way possible.

I'm trying to relearn how to let myself go. To let my characters barge over my plot and put me in my place because I'm realizing that's the only way to write it right. I need to have fun and let everything else go. Only then will I get back to the real reason why I write. Sweaty money in my bra.

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Character Contest
Written by Ann Dee Ellis   
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Carol and I are hosting a writing contest over at our blog. You have until noon today, July 30th. Get cracking! 
Add Comment (1)
 
THE HISTORY OF LOVE and other good things.
Written by Ann Dee Ellis   
Monday, 12 July 2010

Two people (and we’ll call them Brooke and Ally) told me I should read THE HISTORY OF LOVE by Nicole Krauss. Brooke told me in an email and she said she loved it and she thought I would love it too. Brooke and I have only spoken briefly in person a few times. But we are friends because of words. In emails mostly. But once a handwritten note she sent me in the MAILBOX along with a swim cap for a triathlon I was going to try to complete and she knew I was scared.

There’s nothing like a friend and a hand written note to get you over fear of triathloning.

Anyway, Brooke said I should read this book.
I will.
Someday.

Then someone else. Weeks later. A friend named Ally knew I was having a rough day. Writing was thick and heavy and even worse were things surrounding writing. Things I’m not good at. So she showed up on my doorstep with cookies and THE HISTORY OF LOVE.

You’ll love it, she said.

Two people. Same book. Now Brooke and Ally are connected and they didn’t even know each other existed.

So I read it.
And they were right.
I did love it.

I loved it like I kept closing the book and looking at the author picture.

Do you ever do that? Look at the author? Think things like, Did you really write this? How did you write this? When did you write this? You are skinny. What does your house look like? Have you been writing like this forever? How long did it take you to write this? What did you sacrifice to write this? Are you scared of seaweed? What would I say to to you if I met you?

We meet so many people and we see them and think we know them and who they are. But do we know them? Do we know anyone? If I saw her on the street, this person, would I see the HISTORY OF LOVE? There are so many things inside us, so many things we can do and be. A picture in the back of the book and she wrote this.

There’s one part called “the Birth of Feeling”

“Just as there was a first instant when someone rubbed two sticks together to make a spark, there was a first time joy was felt, and a first time for sadness . . . It’s also true that sometimes people felt things and, because there was no word for them, they went unmentioned. The oldest emotion in the world may be that of being moved; but to describe it–just to name it–must have been like trying to catch something invisible. . . . Having begun to feel, people’s desire to feel grew. They wanted to feel more, feel deeper, despite how much it sometimes hurt. People became addicted to feeling. They struggled to uncover new emotions. It’s possible that this is how art was born.”
THE HISTORY OF LOVE pp. 106-107

I had never thought about this before. I had never thought about what it means to catch a feeling or miss a feeling all because I couldn’t find the words. Are we addicted to feeling? Is this art?

I am happy to have friends.
I am happy books link us.
I am happy books can open us up.
I am happy books push us.
I am happy books change us.
I am happy.

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Ann Dee's second YA novel,

Everything Is Fine

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Reading level: Young Adult Hardcover: 160 pages Publisher: Little, Brown Young Readers (March 1, 2009) Language: English ISBN-10: 0316013641 ISBN-13: 978-0316013642   

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Ann Dee's debut YA novel,

This is What I Did:

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Reading level: Young Adult Hardcover: 176 pages Publisher: Little, Brown Young Readers (July 1, 2007) Language: English  ISBN-10: 0316013633 ISBN-13: 978-0316013635

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The Class of 2k7 is a group of first-time children's and YA authors  with debut books coming out in 2007. We're helping to promote each  other's books with this joint Class of 2k7 website as well as a  collective blog, newsletter, forum, chatroom, and brochure. Our authors  hail from 20 states and D.C. representing an extensive range of genres  and publishers.

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