Just Make Art . . .

I’ve been writing, drawing, reading, and messing around with my family.  Writing, drawing, reading, messing around – Repeat.  Repeat.  Then, I look up and my days are gone.  It’s pure bliss.

Here’s what I’ve been working on . . . a short story called Siren House and some drawings.

Siren House (Excerpt) 

The two siblings walked hand in hand for a long time through the streets of the quaint village.  All the cottages opened up their windows and doors to let in the Spring air.  The two children skipped past each home, smiled and then waved.  They made their way up past Mrs. Werrill’s “Rose Nest” cottage and down to the little dirt road that ran out of town.

Some bicyclists past by on the other side of the road.  The brother and sister moved from the dirt ruts to the shallow stone walled that outlined the right side of the road.  The other side was open to the meadow.  Once the bicyclists and a couple vehicles had past, the two children raced over to the wild grass.  The little boy found a frog and tried to get his sister to kiss it.

She ran screaming from him, over and down the small hill east of the road.  She bumped into me.

“Hello, Miss,” the little girl said and curtsy.  Such a nice girl, so sweet, so innocent, she wouldn’t grow up to be what she was now.  She would grow up to be something far less.  I could tell by looking.

The little boy raced up behind her, screaming like a wild animal, but he stopped when he looked up at me.  His delicate blue eyes shining like stars with wonder and curiosity.  Something he would also lose, but he would be told what to wonder about, and it would not be a stranger on the hillside.

“Whoa,” said the little boy, “you’re a large one.”

I chuckled.  The sound was strange to my ears; I hadn’t laughed in so long, many, many, many years.  Too long to remember how many.

“You’re adorable,” I said as I bent my legs and placed my hands on my knees.  My voice was weak and strained like after weeks of coughing.

My voice must have scared the little girl, she backed away.  “Who are you?” she asked.

I felt the smile wipe from my face.  “Moria,” I said with more strain and agony on my throat.

“That’s a lovely name,” said the little boy looking at his sister with disappointment.

She looked back at her brother and took his hand.  “We’re going to go play now,” she said as she tugged on him.

“I want to stay,” he said yanking his small hand back.

“Would you like to come play with me,” I asked the small boy.

“No, he would not,” said the little girl.

“We can play in the meadow,” I said.

“No,” and she took his hand and led him over the hill.

I went back to my tent in the woods and stayed until I heard the cries of child far away in the distance.  I knew where the sounds came from – that house up on the hill filled with ghosts and siren calls.  Children died there every decade for three weeks.  They always tried to blame me, but here I am, never been locked up.

“Stay put,” I reminded myself, “stay.  There’s only trouble up that way.”

The screams continued, continued for hours.  The police sirens went off in the direction of the old house over the next hill.  They also came in my direction.  Stupid cops, stupid society.  They will never learn.  The spiritual takes from the physical world has its leisure.

Have a great night, Biz. 

 

Etsy Shop Opening . . .

https://www.etsy.com/shop/BizBostonArt

I’ve been toying with the idea of an Etsy shop for over a year.  I’ve decided to start with digital downloads while I’m teaching full-time.  Then, I don’t have to worry about shipping anything to anyone.

If you want to check it out, here’s the link.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/BizBostonArt

It’s some of my favorite work over the past three years.  Hopefully, I’ll have the time to keep it updated.  Here’s to starting something new, making art (good or bad), getting messy and taking chances!

Have a wonderful night everyone.  Biz.

My Manuscript is Mocking Me

I’m ready to dive back into my manuscript and slice and dice, so I printed it off. It’s freaking two inches thick and glaring at me with horribly written dialogue and lines of me telling myself, “You weren’t really thinking when you wrote this.” It’s daunting, and complete honesty here, I’m scared that manuscript will never be anything but a Microsoft Words document saved on my computer.

So I finished and won Nanowrimo 2016.  Hooray!  They suggested putting away your finished story for a month before editing or even thinking about it.  I did exactly this.  Now, it’s January, and the manuscript is out.  I started going back through my synopsis and characters first, and put much more needed effort into my story world (now that I know exactly where my characters wandered through the story).  Great.  It was a long, long, long, long month.  I fidgeted at every daily transition because I had so much juice from finishing a manuscript – my dream.  I accomplished my dream after five years of giving it up.  I kept writing every day, I don’t see how someone could write 2,000 words a day for thirty days and then just stop.  Over a month later, it’s a daily necessity like drinking water and going to the bathroom.

January 1st . . . January 1st . . . I’m ready to dive back into my manuscript and slice and dice, so I printed it off.  It’s freaking two inches thick and glaring at me with horribly written dialogue and lines of me telling myself, “You weren’t really thinking when you wrote this.”  It’s daunting, and complete honesty here, I’m scared that manuscript will never be anything but a Microsoft Words document saved on my computer.  (And a mocking pile of ink stained papers.)  There’s over 70,000 words for me to decide to keep or toss.  There’s new ones to add that I’ll have to reread and decide to keep or toss.  I’m dizzy.  Are you dizzy from that sentence?  That’s how this editing process feels.  I’m spinning plates, and I’ve never been taught how to do it.

I decided to do this.  Read a book and jump into reading a second book too.  One book is fiction and the other is basically one of those “Anyone can be a writer” books.  One’s motivational and the other is loads of fun.  I’ve reworked my plot from my one sentence summary to my long synopsis twice.  I’ve also completed my nine major and minor characters complete with backstories that make every action they take seem in the best interest of their values.  That took fifteen days.  Fifteen days where I didn’t edit the paragraphs of my manuscript.  I didn’t worry about the dialogue that reminded me a little bit of Star Wars, or the crazy ending that made no sense whatsoever.

Still, the manuscript is sitting there, and I can’t bring myself to read it.  Parts of it are wildly stupid, and they make me cringe. I went through my synopsis one more time, removing anything that made me happy.  What I mean is, I let my characters wander and change the story as individuals, work towards their individual goals, and not force them to do what I would do.  I have the big picture in my head.  Every character has a goal, and the story has a beginning, middle and end.  It like I gave it save points.  It doesn’t matter how I get there, as long as, I get to those points.  Well, it does matter because the story needs to be well written and every word needs to be the right word.  My next approach is to try and read it and dissect the monster scene by scene. Then, maybe I’ll be able to completely rewrite those scenes that seem to written by my toddler and tweak those written by that smart side of me that occasionally slips out.

Now, I’m getting excited and pumped.  I can see my story like a movie, and when my characters mix the wrong dialogue and responses, I feel like I’ve given myself the ability to say “cut” and “Let’s do this again people.”  I’m the God of this story, but I’ve given my characters free will and choices.  Basically, they have multiple opportunities to mess everything up for themselves and the rest of the world.  Since it’s a horror story, they also have many chances to live or die.  I’m ready – a two inch pile of paper can’t hold me back from my dream.

WIP 6 – Metamorphosis II

I love drawing, and I’m enjoying making this art.  I kind of get to experiment as a go and make it up.  It’s less technical and so relaxing.  I can’t wait to see what it ends up like.

I’m getting close to have ten pieces in my Metamorphosis collection.  Should I push on to thirty?  Should I go bigger?  I think one the size of a wall would be awesome sauce.  They do take awhile, but it’s well worth it.  This piece, 9 x 12 in, as at least twenty-five hours so far.  The idea of bigger sounds so inviting, should I?

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Nanowrimo2016 Update

Nanowritmo is awesome!  I’m glad I decided to join up.  I’ve written nearly 10,000 words in three while keeping my head on my shoulders and going to work and taking care of my family in the evenings.  My cover is almost done, the Shaman is Peter, my protagonist – well, anti-hero.  Here’s another WIP of the drawing.

I’m done.  I finished it very late last night after writing over 5,000 words for the day.  (Which brings my Nano word count over 20,000).  Now, I have some character development to take care of  . . . and some laundry.

Should be using this time to work on a novel . . . but grocery shopping in Thanksgiving week took it out of me. I procrastinated and finished the cover of my book instead 🙂

So I just finished writing my first novel from start to finish in twenty-five days.  Through the help of Nanowrimo, I was able to stay focused and put every single second I could spare and others I found I had, toward writing this novel.  It’s done.  I have a finished manuscript.  It’s been a dream of mine since I was fourteen years old.  I did it.  It’s like giving birth, I feel just as happy and relieved and confused and wondering as I did when my son was born.

Let me repeat this one more time . . . I finished a manuscript for a novel.

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Book Cover WIP

I’ve been working on a novel for some time now.  It’s a ghost story I’ve wanted to get done for a very long time.  In November, I’m joining up with Nanowrimo, and I’m planning on writing the whole thing.  I think it’s crazy too, but thousands of people write a novel every November since they’ve started this event.  I’m excited and scared, but I can’t wait.  In the meantime, I’m prepping.  I’m working on a cover and my synopsis.  Here are a couple of my work-in-progress pics for the cover.

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