words_n_coffee:   (Watch)
http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2013/06/07/flash-fiction-challenge-its-abc-meets-xyz/

This blog has a lot of flash fiction challenges that might actually make for longer workds, or help inspire..etc...here's just one.
words_n_coffee: (Location)
http://gointothestory.blcklst.com/

They have interesting tips regarding stories, screenwriting, writing, Hollywood and other items.

http://gointothestory.blcklst.com/2013/06/gender-as-represented-in-spec-script-sales.html

Thanks for the hat tip to the blog at indie wire, women and hollywood, http://blogs.indiewire.com/womenandhollywood/the-spec-scripts-and-women

It's getting worse for Hollywood & Women not better...which I see hope for improvement because this page at the above blog...

http://blogs.indiewire.com/womenandhollywood/films_by_and_about_women

It looks like late 2013 and 2014 as a year might be a little better as a year for women's representation in movies goes.


(part of this post was on my lj...http://normaltrouble.livejournal.com/ ...slightly edited as well.)

Well,

Jun. 24th, 2013 02:16 am
words_n_coffee: (XF-How will it end?)
I actually want to be here, with my writing and my worlds and the future and all that entails.

Hope.

I am kind of surprised but even though the whole prompt exercises may be private, I've done a few in the past month or so--a few more than I've done in the past year!

The state of me? Eh, about 45 % for various reasons, but the mere fact that I've spending some time feeding the writer inside me, even if it's snacks, well, this is positive.

So temporarily the life that is about a 4.5 goes up a point when I am nurturing my creativity.
words_n_coffee: (Default)
I'll just find one to start out with via the webs! The maybe root around in my books and get some more going.

I was resisting having some writing ideas and feeling that I do not have enough energy , but something just propelled me to do this!

I am taking this from http://clarionfoundation.wordpress.com/2010/05/03/writing-prompt-1-2/

The number I choose is "4" .

Story Seed #4

This story takes place … DURING THE APOCALYPSE
in … A KITCHEN
found … IN A DENSE URBAN AREA.
The story centers on … A DELIVERY PERSON
who comes up against … A MILITARY LEADER.
At some point, someone discovers … A SANDWICH

...

My kitchen was like a fortress within a fortres within a fortress.
I had amassed about a hundred cookbooks--some very useful: 365 ways with a can of soup and rice.
Some pretty- Tea for one or two or a dozen? EZ!
A few were helping the teachers make sure the children didn't slip into illiteracy-- ABC--oookies! or The 25 basic meals every boy and girl needs to be able to make!

I closely knew the few and far between who could enter my kitchen- the compound had a dozen, but this was mine. I rested my guns, I left behind the swords and the bow and arrow and the careful planning to keep this handful alive, and I made a few good meals out of nothing.
We had just found a caterer's warehouse. My goddess, what an amazing find. Flour and big cans and cooking stoves and a few bbq's and yes, a still running generator with frozen beef, pork, and chicken.
So I let the seven trsuted souls into my domain, and we soaked some pork in pineapple and some beef in red wine and marinated chicken with Colonel Meacham's amazing sauce. She guarded it like I guarded this kitchen.

This was a barbeque to end it all. Carefully tested fish were included, cooked by Lillian and her crew/ Big drums of ice cream, home made by Sherle Levine and about a dozen others. The kids screamed and played and tge grownups discussed everything except war and shortages and rations and how after spring comes summer comes fall, then winter.

I didn't wear anything practical-wore a shift of deep blue-grey, I only strapped on my "day gun" and ate, and served and laughed and was advised by the general to back away from cleaning that kitchen, ma'am!

I had been more tired before, and had certainly in the last few months, had more cause to sleep solid sleep, but I walked up to my bed, and slept and dreamt of far better days.

I slept past noon. I was awakened by a tray--coffee, a big cheese danish, a huge bacon and cheese and egg sandwich, on a biscuit, orange juice, a small bowl of berries... delivered by General Munoz himself.
He had his own tray brought up and we just shot the shit, an old black op gal and an expert strategist.

"You know what, Colonel?"

"What, sir?"

"first job I had was in a distant cousin's b and b in London! Delivering breakfasts to folks who didn't want to get up and down to the breakfast room. Now one time, I had a star there, who was "roughing" it. Cannot say who--just cannot. I went everywhere to get her a few special items. Back in the very early 80's. Well she got me talking while I deliver this oddball tray- chocolates and American food and Indian curry and kippers and chai and pomegranate juice and...phew...I just told her about the perfect sandwich- and she just waved me away..."

I looked up at him. The coffee was too good. The bacon was crisped to perfection. I ate the last blueberry with regret...figuring of course, this sort of meal wasn't going to be habit.

"The year before I enlisted...1983...I went back and did the same job-although my distant cousin was low on help so I was more of a gopher and cleaner and server...and the star stopped by for a couple nights. She loved my cousin's place. Warm and cozy -- and then she sees me, nods and goes out. She comes back with a bag of fancy clothes--you know loud wild package with a few tufts of silken things peaking out...to think of her back then in those...well, the gist of it was was that she put a package in front of me..."Hungry. she said?" Yep" I answered...There it was. Imagine you favorite sandwich...or a few of your favorites favorite ingredients. There it was."

He left behind half a bowl berries.

"hey take the next week off, Colonel. Go and read and forget--all this for a while."

He swept his hand near the window, at the crowded ruins and the makeshift walls we had made to keep out the less desirable survivors.

"Yes, sir."

(well not exactly the prompt's perfect following but got me going!)

((rough draft...))
words_n_coffee: (Default)
I've not been here for a while, but I will be starting to scraped my writing ability from off the floor.

Mostly these posts will be private, unless somebody who knows me over at LJ actually comments on this post or maybe the next public post and advises me thay really want to read something.

Some of my neglect is because of weird schedules...some just from tiredness...and some from the complete lack of faith in my being able to write.

Yes, I write over at my LJ, but I am of course meaning my creative writing.

I figure my creative writing is moribund dead weight and I do not know what to do with the 4-5 stories in my head that are all clogged up.

So here I am, trying to do some basic plumbing work on my erstwhile creative writing hope...

The Girl

Aug. 24th, 2011 01:36 am
words_n_coffee: (Default)
dirty_old_boardwalk
Color by COLOURlovers

Here's another drabble from my story project...
It is still meandering around my brain, but thereyago...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The girl lifted her dress, once a decent pale teal green, now faded and slightly worn looking, to keep away from the step covered with muck and mud to get to the well, slightly less dirty boardwalk.
Sometime tomorrow, the sweeps would be out and the water spalshed and it would cleaned, and the muck and mud would dry, and maybe just maybe this spring and summer would see asphalt paving on this, the third most traversed street in Esperanza.

The woman who went into Brownstein's Bar and Saloon and Media Emporium doubted it sincerely.
A decade lost in this backwater town, and here she was, slipping behind a bar counter, to find a few choice bits of contraband.
Delicious.
Ahhhh.
There they were. Nice and neat and labled
For her.

Mr Brownstein was directing traffic. A trader had come by last night, and from the look of it, this trade had been extremely good, large, and with some items that would bring customers young and old, new and of record to Mr. Brownstein's establishment.

She tucked the items in her large purse, and then went over to Mr. Brownstein.

He grinned at her. Javier Chieng-Ruiz, the experienced cook who knew her well, sat on a table in front of her, black bean and chicken burritos, real coffee, real orange juice, eggs, and then sat down across from her. Mr. Brownstein sighed, shrugged his shoulders and shouted to his crew, "break off for an hour, have breakfast, and get yourself a nice piece of chocolate!Take one extra for your folks!"

Mr. B sat down, and the cook served up bacon and cinnamon buns for the both of them.

Javier said, "Good load, Mr. B. How much chocalate?"

"100 pounds First time in 3 years! Well, at least that much!! Jeeze. If only money was more...well...you know."

Javier laughed. He had noted that the trader caravansery had some very precious items for him...salt, corn, flour, and sugar! He couldn't wait to give Mrs. Chieng-Ruiz all the ingredients she needed for brownies. First time since Christmas.
"And there was coffee?"

The girl clutched her bag. She then sipped some of the coffee, and dug into her burrito and eggs. It was all so good that she forgot to talk, forgot to look around, and all she could think of was the let up in rain, how wonderful eggs were with black pepper, and that Javier's sideburns were grey but nothing else, the rest of his hair was jet black and very straight and the orange juice was sweet and fresh,and after that, there was the empty plate, the three parcels in her purse, and she looked around. Mr. B was back directing the traffic of his various goods, the women upstairs over the bar and saloon were drifting about enjoying breakfast, and the Media Emporium seemed to have a few customers wandering through.

She went to the back lounge, fixed up her hair.
Antonia Allen was there, readying her bath behind the screen.

"Girl! How are you doing?"

"I am doing. I might even earn a few silvers for whatever those visitors are looking for."

"If they need something alive...well...here I am, and Bianca, and Sally is available. Penny is indisposed, and MeiMei has a longtime visitor she is actually going to visit, out of town, an important official."

"I'll keep that in mind. And when MeiMei comes back, please ask them all over to my house, for ...tea."

Antonia eased herself into steaming water. It smelled like rose and jasmine.
"We all could use actual to goodness afternoon away from here, just talking amongst."

"I'll find some rare item for everyone, even MeiMei."

At that, after the girl fixed her hair, twisted it up and almost looked older than maybe fifteen years, she went to the Media Emporium.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Rough draft, copyright Kay Dawson, 2011.
words_n_coffee: (Default)
railroad_to_nowhere
Color by COLOURlovers

Now, I am working on a story project, and the above is part of one of the objects, or items in the story.

Below is a short drabble of one of the story's characters, that just kinda walked into the story today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe settled for his third night, wrapped in real sheets, a real quilt, and having real food in his stomach. he had real memories floating up, of a big house and a generous family, of that last summer, where he felt so grown up because he dove, and swam from the big people's end of the pool. Like an otter. He counted pennies and searched the internet and played poker with his grampa--who for the first year played pennies and quarters with him.
He was not seven anymore, he was eight, and he could sit down and read and run off to visit Aunt Tori and play real poker with money not candy with his Grampa Alan.

That summer was so long ago, and now Joe settled down and saw the safety lanterns and a candle flickering, and the ornate deep greys and reds and of the train berth they were in, some faded cream and gold leather seats across from the booth, from his vantage point tucked into safe, soft quilts. He was a man, almost he knew that, and he hadn't been a boy in years.
For the first time, the grip on his trusty knife was relaxed.
His mother came by him, and took it gently from his hand, gave him a cup with water, and sat across him. She had clean clothes, and her dirty yellow hair almost looked golden in this light.
He gulped.
She untwisted her hair, and curled up with a thin blanket and a sheet, too. the berth's benches was quite enough of a bed, and very comfortable.
He said,slightly whispering,
"Mom, you look pretty, and mom...is this home?"

Marie Delfino hadn't wanted children, well, she just didn't. Her parents weren't bad, good, maybe just there. They had kept them fed, clothed and sheltered, and taken them on weeklong trips to relatives in slightly different cities. Mom had a slight flare up ot bad temper now and the, and dad had gone for long weekends ever so often. She hadn't liked crowing around with seven brothers and sisters.
She looked at the young man who looked too much like her not to claim him, but of course, he was her father's brother's very youngest son.
Joe Delfino called her mom because that is what she was, in a way, of a sort, and it had worked out, this child was almost seventeen, and after a decade on the road, after maybe around half that time barely living, and half that time being in an almost okay situation...

"Thanks, Joe, and I don't know."

Somebody had walked by them. She was slender, with sharp young features, and what Marie though looked like some Victorian outfit on, except for the practical jeans on, and she leaned towards both of them.

"You are in a town called Esperanza, which means hope."

"Ma'am, where is this train going?"

"Well it is the railroad going nowhere."

Then she gave them a sealed bottle of water, and a little basket of snacks.

A few lanterns and what little candlelight was snuffed out and she smiled in the near dark,
"Goodnight, Joe, and Marie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a rough draft, but there it is.
(I just cleared a little error up...)
"copyright Kay Dawson, 2011"
words_n_coffee: (Nanowrimo2010-plot)
I would need to write 2589 words per day to complete.

Hmmmm.

My biggest obstacle:

Coming home after swing shift, feeling slightly "wan" and worn after work.

My biggest concern:

Hey! This story is all over the effen place! OMFG!

My best hope:

I am actually finding out what I want to write.

My Biggest fear:

I will find out I don't have anything to write.

2nd biggest fear:

I will find out I cannot write above around an 8th grade level.


Soooo...I've never tried to 2500 words in a day.
Curious as to whether I can actually do this, at all!!

I am finding that by the end of my push for "around 1000" words---I get to a new place in my meanderings and can almost figure out what I might be writing about ;)

I might be very brave tomorrow and try to write something--which would be like, only the 3rd or 4th chapter in my very roundabout story---to share by "sometime mid-Sunday".

Maybe 2500 words to share!! He! Maybe even 5000!!
words_n_coffee: (coffee&cream)
Well I am at 5006 words.
If I want to "win" the 50,000 mark November's end, I need to do around 2200-2400 words per day.

I could still fit in around 2200 today, after I get up tomorrow!

I am attempting to get a better sleeping pattern=feel better=write more.

So far it's a meandering path all around the bend.
But I am writing again.
words_n_coffee: (nanowrimo 2010 or bust)
I need to do around 2100-220 words per day if I want to get to 50,000 by the end of November.

I think I can do this! let's see how close I can get to the recommended words per day tomorrow.
words_n_coffee: (coffee&cream)
I just saw American Violet which is a great movie.

One of the important things in this movie is the heroic character of the woman who is the main character. She is based on a real person, and somehow, has an intense heroic thread woven around her character.

I would say it is a deep integrity, a valuing of the truth, her love for her family and the ability to stand up for herself, an agency of will that impressed me.

I watch and read a lot of genre, and I think one of the most important things said in any genre film is " are you a good man" by Roy Baty in Blade Runner because it illustrates an important point--is the character "good" because he/she has a white hat on, or because of how the person lives.
American Violet is a good example of somebody stepping up to be good. Not perfect or an angel or somebody having super powers...but doing good for the general good as well as for herself and the future of her children and the community.

That to me is a good movie, when I am still in that world for a few hours after it.

How are my characters- reacting to the life around them...orderly life, chaotic life, boring life, challenges that test their inner integrity?
Good questions.
words_n_coffee:   (Watch)
Things that caught my attention today and the last few...days.

The whole Chaplin time travel meme.
Love it.
Of course it is a weird little hand held hearing aid thingie.
But fun.
What if time travelers in Ms. Willis's books popped up in photographs?

I'll be reading :All Clear by Connie Willis. Very soon.

I keep bouncing around time travel and ghosts in my mind.

Could I be changing the focus of my novel just a few days before I start writing it?

I am going to dig up something with prompts, sounds fun to crack open some inspiration when I write.

I might change my layout to a Nanowrimo one. Maybe.
words_n_coffee: (Coffee and writing)
My genre will be science fiction, a settlement of an alien planet story.

It will be also slightly post-apocalyptic, and explore the survivor trope as well.

As to theme...well, partially, "we might just need a backup planet" , "everybody wants to be the survivor", and how hard it is to actually survive the whole activity of settling a new world.

Some other issues and themes might develop.
words_n_coffee: (coffee&cream)
I just finished Blackout by Connie Willis.

I kept reading and reading, and in a record for me lately, finished it in 3 days!

I highly recommend this.
words_n_coffee:   (Watch)
I've got 3-4 main ideas wandering through my head.

I have to hone down the ones I feel have most staying power for me, however, these are 3-4 stories I've been thinking of for a long time.

Time to launch one of these into the wild! Let it forage and find its way.

So to speak.

I plan on making this my main journal from Oct 22-Dec 6.
Then I'll take a break from what I've completed, and come back after some set amount of time, with freshness in the air and all that!

I need this kind of challenge in my life, and I need to complete something of a creative nature.
words_n_coffee: (Default)
These are a few links to....design sites, designers, artists etc...because inspiration isn't always straight forward.
I love writing and books and novels and reading and...
I love design, art, graphics, fonts etc.

So here are a few links I found by exploring Nanowrimo's blog...be forewarned, they aren't all found directly at the blog.

Louise Fili who designs logos, book covers, and a lot of designs have to do with food.

Metrazur one of her restaurant logo / brand designs...

Gary Taxali's cover for Aimee Mann.

John Gall's blog, lots and lots of book cover, design goodies!
words_n_coffee: (nanowrimo 2010 or bust)
One of the instructors asks her class to name 10 things they like to see in a novel, well, I am paraphrasing.

Let's see.

1. Character arcs. I like a change. People change. I want the person to be active, sure, but I also like the fact that people do change through others' actions, environment, illness, death, birth etc.

2. Some detail about clothes, but not the whole description every single time.

3. I admire really well written action scenes, sequences, because this is one of my weakest spots in writing.

4. I want to be involved in the world, to know where I am, not be taken out of it. However, this is sort of subjective, sooo...

5. Dystopia.

6. Dystopia with a side of road trip.

7. Steampunk...but with emphasis on the "punk" which means something not cut and dry, not rote, but something...a little...off. Odd. Quirky.

8. Like art, like movies, like inventions, I love the feeling of an inevitable story. A story that exists out there, just for the author to find it.

9. I cannot lie...I love costume dramas in movies and yep, in books.

10. I also like future thingies...from the breath away "day after tomorrow" (not the movie...) to 1 million years from now...

So. that's just partiallly what I love.

And I quite like at least one character to be very fond of coffee.
words_n_coffee: (Default)
Resources for instructors but I figure might help me out to get some strucutre for my 23 day warming up period!!
words_n_coffee: (Default)
Nanowrimo this year, yes, once again into the fray!

I haven't successfully completed one.

Tried once with gusto, another time with some feeling and sorta halfassed last year.

I have a coolio little instructor's pdf about how to do some of this, so I am going to attempt the attempt to do it with gusto.

I may keep the actual novel 1667 words per day stuff "private" but will of course, share pre nanon warm up and suchlike.

First task :
Find myself into a commitment of 1.5 hours per day for writing.

I spend some hour and half doing this and that that doesn't add to my life or progress at all, so I am going to just kick the doors open and let some daylight in.

Yes, I can work Bruce Cockburn into anything!
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