What's in a Name?

Before our Little Man was born, we (okay I) made endless lists of names. I had girl's names and boy's names. When we found out he was definitely going to be a boy, I tossed out the girl's list and concentrated on the boy's list. I had lots of ideas. I liked Seth, Matthew, Charles, Daniel, and James. My husband had two names in mind - his and his father's. Neither was on my list. We did finally settle on a name that combined a name he wanted and one I wanted. Interestingly, Little Man's personality actually fits his name.

The new royal baby is awaiting his name as is the rest of the world. The Vegas odds-makers have George in the lead. Whatever Kate and Will decide to name him, I'm sure it will be a title befitting his place in history. Eventually they will toss him a nickname that will be a better fit. I really can't see the royal couple referring to the infant as His Royal Highness Prince George Albert William Spencer Mountbatten-Windsor. No. They'll call him Bucky or Spence or something cute and easy. USA Today has a fun thing to do finding your royal name. I tried it. I am Her Highness Godiva Del Fuego. It conjures up uncomfortable images of eating chocolate while naked perched upon the rim of a volcano. Regardless, just call me Highness. I like that.

I think a lot about names. I've named, aside from my Little Man, a number of dogs and cats and guinea pigs and birds and bunny rabbits. I always have handy a "Name Your Baby" book to name my characters that didn't come with one (writers will know what that means). And because it freaks my husband out when I'm flipping through it making notes. That's fun too.

Names are important. Names have meaning and tone. The Pope chooses a name he hopes to convey his philosophies and how he wants to over-see his reign. The name of a character can instantly give the reader information about the character's character or the message the author is trying to deliver (think Hester Primm). Angry mothers will use all three names of their children letting their off-spring know just how much trouble they're in (Michael Steven Jones! Get in this house!).

So this is the trouble I'm having. My novel Murder at the Primrose Inn is soon going through a second round of edits. I'm getting close to having it ready for submission and to think about cover art. Yay! Right? Not so much. My working title has to go and I'm not good at titles. I find it easier to write the novel than to title it. Currently the titles suggestions that are in the lead are: Circumstantial Evidence, Circumstantial Innocence, Shades of Doubt, Deception, Appearances of Truth. Would love to hear what you prefer!!

Exciting Times

I know it is the middle of summer with the solstice and Independence Day behind us. We are looking at days becoming shorter, cooler and the next holiday is Labor Day which marks the end of summer. Yet, there is a lot of spring going on in my life right now. By spring I mean new beginnings and fresh starts.

First, Little Man has begun potty training. This is a new beginning for us. Soon I won't have diapers to change and he'll experience more independence. It's the end of babyhood, the end of intimacy between us. Soon, he'll be bathing himself and the personal barrio will be put up. We'll no longer be one the way only a mother and child can be. It is the spring of his boyhood and really the beginning of his life.

Second, the first round of self-edits are done on my novel Murder at the Primrose Inn and it is in the hands of my first readers. This is an unofficial edit. I'm using beta readers for many of the edits and a professional editor when it is as clean and interesting as it can get. I know that the manuscript is raw and just one step above a rough draft but the prospect of someone reading my work with a criticizing eye (which is different from a critical eye) makes me nauseous. This is the spring of my first novel. It is the beginning of it becoming the best it can be. Very soon it will not be just a hope or a dream, it will be real.

Finally, the really BEST news of all! My writer's group will be launching an e-magazine (an e-zine) in November of this year. It will be a literary magazine (duh, what else would it be) focusing on Georgia and South Carolina writers; published or unpublished. We have named our periodical Red Clay in honor of the southern soil and because words, like clay, must be molded into form. That's not my line, that's from one of our members, Tim. I liked it so I used it. It is the beginning of something new for us, a spring, well, a spring off anyway.

Big Boy

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Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

Little Man turned three-years old on the Fourth of July. While the rest of the country is celebrating our Independence Day, we celebrate the birth of our son. This year was his first real birthday party. Sure, we've had parties before with grandparents and such, but this time he had friends and cake and ice cream and balloons and streamers! Okay, there were more adults there than children and we ate the ice cream. Come to think of it, we ate everything and the kids ran around and played the whole time. After all, what's more fun that hamburgers and hot dogs and beer and cake and ice cream and punch and running kids?



Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

I was worried that they wouldn't have fun. I found a Pin-The-Tail-On-The-Donkey game just in case it rained and they needed an inside game. I hoped it wouldn't rain so they could play T-Ball, tennis and golf in the back yard. It rained, of course. The kids didn't care and were just as content to play with the trains and cars and blocks that were EVERYWHERE in the living room.

So, now Little Man is getting to be a Big Boy. And potty training has started. Ugh. And he's resisting, of course. But I stop and think

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about what he's learned, what all children learn, in the first few years of their lives. Amazing! In just three short years he has learned to breath, hold his head up, sit up, chew and swallow, walk, feed himself and talk. He's grown a whole set of teeth and learned where literally everything is in the house. He's learned his letters and numbers and can recognize words such as his name and anything with a logo. I believe he's teaching himself Spanish because he watches Spanish videos on my cell phone. Yes, he's learned to pull up YouTube.

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Then I wonder, because Dad usually asks me, what have I learned in the past three years? I've learned to change diapers, speak toddler, make macaroni & cheese, and to remain awake for days at a time. But nothing as amazing as what Little Man has accomplished. Perhaps we need to challenge ourselves to learn something new at least per week.

Surprise!

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It was my father's 80th birthday in June. That's a big number. So, my brother and sister and I decided that a party was indeed in order. To make it even more exciting, we made it a surprise party. This may not seem like a big deal but it was challenging. It was a surprise for Mom too. because if Mom knows, then Dad knows.


There were a lot of challenges to overcome such as travel (none of us live in the same state), schedule coordinating, finding a place to stay and venue for the party, invitations, RSVPs, refreshments and cake, keeping it a secret, and arranging Mom's schedule with her boss since it was a secret. It was a venture that would have been impossible without the aid of my parent's friends and neighbors we used as spies.

That was not the important part. The important part was that for the first time in six years the entire clan was together. For the first time in 31 years all of us siblings slept under the same roof and spent time together. For the second time the cousins were able to play together. It was a gift that we were able to give our parents but also each other.

Mixed into all this, was a sad happening. My father's sister, his last sibling, passed away just days before the party was to take place. After much questioning whether we should cancel, postpone, or continue, we made the decision to carry on as planned. Not because we're callus, but we thought the best thing we could do for Dad at the time was to show him that his family has expanded to children and grandchildren who love him and the startling number of friends who respect him.

My mother gave me a word. Bittersweet, she said. I liked the word because I like to explore the Yin and Yang of language and life. Yes, it was bitter that Dad's sister passed, but it was sweet to have his family and friends around him. It is bitter that we, as siblings, have moved to different states and get caught up in our own lives and families and forget that we have each other to lean on. But it was sweet to gather together once again and perhaps getting together is something we should do more often. And moving on from siblings to our own families is bittersweet but the way of life. Perhaps that's the real surprise.

Just Get Over It

I belong to a critique group. I love my critique group because I can

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take in the pages of my current Work In Progress and they will tell me what they think about them. At least I hope they tell me what they think about them. I want them too. See, I want my WIP to be good and when it comes time to edit, I look at their suggestions so I can make it better. That's what critiques are for - suggestions to make the work better. I love praise too. Who doesn't? But praise isn't making my writing better.

Not all suggestions are going to fit with where I want to take the story so I'll have to disregard them. Some suggestions are just ridiculous - change the character's height or don't write a mystery, write a romantic comedy - whatever. Most of the time, the critiques

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are spot on. And although I've had critiques that cut really deep, I've considered all of them before implementing or discarding them. One of the BEST critiques I got was from Kyle Martin who flat out told me that my story sucked because I didn't know my characters very well. That was hard to hear, but he was absolutely correct. And thanks to him, I got to know my characters and rewrote my story. It's better. And with editing, it will get better yet. Eventually, it will be good - and good enough to publish. *fingers crossed*

Fortunately, just about everyone in our critique group wants honest opinions and suggestions. There is one member, however, who doesn't like suggestions or criticisms. And that's fine if you don't like them, disregard them. Who cares? But this member doesn't just disregard them, first he writes a scathing email to the individual member or to the group as a whole complaining how he feels victimized, disenfranchised, and insulted. He is actually a good writer with a creative vision, specifically in screen play writing. What I don't understand, is if he is going to disregard the suggestions that get made and be offended by them, then why does he even attend? My guess is for the praise. But, praise doesn't make you better.

Ironically, Kristen Lamb just wrote a blog about this very thing

Kristen Lamb
www.warriorwrites.wordpress.com

called Handling Criticism. It reinforces the fact that as writers we need to develop thick skins. If our critique group is going to upset our tender sensibilities and make us cry like little girls, then a professional editor is going to destroy our very soul. Oh! I know, I'll just upload my novel without having it edited or having beta readers. That way I won't have my feelings hurt. Really? Because the public isn't going to be shy about reviewing your work for the whole world to see and telling them just what kind of drivel and tripe you wrote. Great for sales!

It sounds like I have a thin skin about receiving accusatory emails or having my suggestions ignored. On the contrary, I don't care. The thing that bothers me is that in my response to this man I curbed what I really wanted to say to him and that causes me stress. I don't like to sensor my opinions. It bothers me because he is a good writer and he will never go further than just wanting to be a writer if he can't handle editorial suggestions. Oh well.

Time to get back to work. I'm editing today. I hope my skin is thick enough to handle all the bad things I'm going to say about my writing! I'll just have to get over it.

Oh, That's Better!

Some 25 years ago I was in a car accident. I was rear ended. It

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didn't seem to be too bad at first but a few weeks after the incident I was hurting. Six weeks later, while driving the car to the  repair shop, I was T-boned by someone running a red light. That's when the pain got worse. Yes, there are more details to the story, but this is just a preface. It turns out that as a result of the car accidents I had a cracked C5 and severe whiplash. Time moves along and the crack heals, becomes arthritic, spreads to the C6 and results in compression on the disc between the C7 and T1. Yeah, it's uncomfortable.

So, I'm sitting in the chiropractor's office the other day waiting anxiously for the doctor to come in so I can be adjusted and have

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some of the daily discomfort relieved. In other words, I'm waiting to be cracked. That's when I start thinking about alignment and Dem Bones song about how the toe bone is connected to the head bone circuitously, of course. The song made me laugh out loud and that's when the doctor comes into the room and sees me laughing by myself. Oh well.

The point is that just like our spines, our lives have to be aligned. In order for there to be function and painlessness, things have to be in their correct place (see, I'm right to nag about putting stuff back where it goes). If my vertebra aren't stacked correctly, I have pain and discomfort and it is difficult to do the things I have to do let alone the things I want to do. Once I was adjusted and my peripheral vision returned, I started noticing alignment and order patterns everywhere. Yes, it is because I'm a geek. Lasagna has to be stacked properly or it's a gooey mess. The dishwasher has to be loaded the right way or the dishes won't get clean. I could go on but then I'd just be indulging my OCD.

Where it's really important is in writing. I have a wonderful reference book, Plot & Structure by James Scott Bell that has been

helpful in aligning my plot line and my sub-plot lines. If the story isn't aligned, it won't flow. If it doesn't flow, it won't read easily and that means it won't be read. During my editing process, I'm looking at ways to adjust, realign, structure my story line to be more clear and concise. The first word is connected to the second word, the second word is connected to the third word, the third word is connected to the .... Crack!

I Know That You Know What I Meant - I Think

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Not too long ago one of my Facebook friends posted an article that struck my fancy and I immediately had to share it. The article is 38 Wonderful Foreign Words. It is a list of wonderful words that foreign languages have that we lack in English. Not to disparage the first 36 words but by far my favorite are the last 2 on the list. These are 2 Yiddish words - schlemiel and schlimazel. (Yes, we all know the song.) Basically a schlemiel is someone who spills his coffee and a schlimazel is the person on whom it is spilled. In my case, I am both as I will spill my coffee (and everything else) on myself.

Aside from the humor of these words, I like the interconnection of them. You can be a schlemiel by your actions. You do the spilling. But in order to be a schlimazel, that requires the action of someone else. They do it to you. I also like that either of these conditions can be permanent - he's always been clumsy, or bad things just seem to happen to him all the time. They can also be temporary like having a bad day.

Sam Kinison
www.learnsomethingnewtoday.us

Which brings me to hinting. (What?) My husband is not good at picking up on hints. This is good because I'm not good at making them. We solved our gift-giving problem by creating "I'd like something on this list" lists. It works for us. We're happy. I am a strong believer that if you have something to say, just say it.

Actually, I started thinking about 2 connected words we have in English - imply and infer. See, if I hint at something - "I'm sure tired of cooking dinner and cleaning up" - I'm implying that I'd like to go out to dinner. What has to happen next is the person I'm talking to has to infer my meaning. See to imply is an action and to infer is the result of an implication.

It's certainly frustrating to imply something and not have it inferred correctly (or at all).

          "That looks like a good movie."
          "I guess so."

Where we start to go wrong (and down the paranoid road) is when we start to infer meaning when there was nothing implied.

          "What a beautiful day."
          "What you're really saying is that we don't go out enough."

Perhaps this is where PC speech comes from. We try too hard to not say something so instead we contort our language into implication and innuendo hoping that our meaning will magically be inferred correctly. Or people so used to speech having a double meaning or sub-text that they automatically start to infer meaning where there was none other than what was stated. If you know what I mean. What do you mean?