The Tale of the Umbrella

I passed my French test! And officially finished my French class...

But before I get to that, a quick side note: My HIMYM post is delayed by a day, since my DVR didn't record the entire show from last night. Luckily, the video of Monday's episode is online; Check back tomorrow afternoon for that review.

And another side note: the story of the umbrella.

When I left work at 5, the rain was pouring. I don't usually carry an umbrella on rainy/cloudy days. For one, all three of my umbrellas are broken due to all the wind tunnels in Chicago. Secondly, during the 5:00 commute in Chicago, the sidewalks are packed, and one of my biggest pet peeves are people who have no sense of where their umbrella is and who, therefore, run into me with their umbrella. I get it, I'm short, you don't always see me, but come on.

So, I was hesitant to take one of the many umbrellas from the office. I don't want to be poking anyone's eyes out. And the umbrellas, decorated with the office logo, are ginormous; they're too big even for really tall people, seriously.

But, it was pouring, and my bag was so full with French books and a hard copy of "Eclipse" (yeah, I gave into reading "Twilight") that I couldn't completely close my purse. I didn't want my beloved books getting wet!

I stepped outside, hovered under the eaves and tried popping open the umbrella. But, I raised the little lever thing too high, and the umbrella flipped open backwards, as if the wind had popped it open the wrong way. Since the umbrella was so large, I was struggling with hanging on to my over-sized purse and trying to wrap my arms around the umbrella to push it back down.

Luckily, three people, just leaving my office building, stopped to help. It took all four of us to wrangle the umbrella down - but we did it, and I was on my way to French.

I was cautious in how I held the umbrella, raising it high when walking by tall people. The umbrella handle was long enough, that 5'4" me was able to raise it high enough to let 6'+ people pass under it.

And then, not even halfway into my walk, the rain stopped.

And then I had French class, where I passed with flying colors, which was recognized with a fake French passport to document which classes I take (and pass).

The only thing worth mentioning about the class (I won't talk about my nervousness over a test that I had little problems with) was the oral presentation. We wrote about a celebrity, about what they were like, where they lived, etc., and then read it aloud to the class, trying to get everyone to guess who we had written about.

I gave the clue, Il aime opera avec "muppets."

He loves opera with muppets.

Guess who?

No one in my class guessed.

Can you?

If you're an HIMYM fan, you should know. Or if you've seen his movie, "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," you should know.

Yeah, that's right. Jason Segel.

Off to watch last night's episode of HIMYM.

A Mystery Novel for All Readers & Writers

The Thirteenth Tale
By Diane Setterfield

As a reader...
After reading the first chapter of The Thirteenth Tale, I thought the novel was going to be about the power of words, the way we tell stories rather than the "truth," and why we, as humans, feel the need to lie - not only to ourselves, but to our loved ones as well as the general public. Diane Setterfield's first novel was about all of that, but this mystery novel was also about so much more.

Celebrated English author Vida Winter is dying. The wolf is waiting for her, lurking in the corners of rooms, and before he comes to claim her, she wants to tell the truth about her life. All of the journalists who have tried to discover the truth about her early life have failed; Vida knew how to draw them away from the truth by telling a story instead.

Vida chooses Margaret Lea, an amateur bibliographer, to listen to and write her story. But Margaret has her own demons to deal with as well. At an early age, she discovered that she was born a twin. Since the day of her birth - and her sister's death - her mother withdrew from life, and Margaret & her father learned to tiptoe around anything that might upset her.

While Margaret's story is important, it is Vida's story, of her own twin sister, of her unusual childhood in the Gothic Angelfield mansion, that draws readers in. Vida's story is full of ghosts, an eccentric family, an overzealous governess, an introverted gardener, and two twin girls - Adeline & Emmeline - that are eternally bound to one another. Setterfield masterfully intertwines clues that lead to the story's twist - at once shocking but also completely believable.

The story of The Thirteenth Tale shows that the way we hear truth depends on what we expect, what we know, what we want to hear. The telling of truth is clearly no easy matter. And it is these very issues that make this story such a wonderful mystery.

As a writer...
I loved that this book took place in libraries and bookstores, and was, partially, about the nature of telling stories. This book is perfect for any writer/book-lover.

Yet, the novel is also a mystery, one that is deftly told, with clues about Vida's early life seamlessly intertwined with the telling of Vida's - and Margaret's - story. Chronology matters, as Vida touts to Margaret before beginning the tale of her beginnings, but so does creating expectation in the reader.

Early on, as readers, we learn there is a fire at Angelfield, one that caused Vida to change her name and begin a totally different life. The fire is an ending, but it is also a beginning. It encourages the reader to wonder about the events that led to the fire, who started it, what was it's purpose or whether it was an accident, etc.

The back and forth, between past and present, makes me think of my novel, and whether the plot can be driven less by chronology and more by certain themes and character motivations. There's always been a hint of mystery in my novel, along with jumping back and forth between 1792-3 & 2005, but Setterfield's wonderful way of hinting at things that seem to have no importance at the time was stunning, and I hope that I can achieve those subtleties that contribute to my own tale about the past.

Image source: http://www.freewebs.com/steppingstonesforwriters/bookcoverpicks.htm

Progress!...

... but not completely the progress I expected.

So, I didn't complete all my "writing goals" for this weekend. Other stuff came up (like studying for my French test), distractions arose, the usual. But I still made progress. I finished revising Chapters 1, 2, & 3... but didn't rewrite Chapter 8. Instead, I worked on revising Chapters 4, 5, & 6. Not what I planned, but, in ways, it was more than I had planned to do. So, I'll take it!

I also worked on a couple themes that run throughout the novel, pulling them out more, creating subtle hints towards them. Again, it's not everything I planned, but I'm making progress on the novel, and it feels great!

And, yesterday's blog post held me accountable. I knew I would write on here whether I accomplished my goals, and it helped motivate me, so expect more accountability posts in the future!

Busy Weekend

Since I'm partially using this blog to hold myself accountable to my writing, I figured this is the best place to write down my writing goals for the weekend - and the things that may affect whether I complete them. I've had such a productive writing week, despite being extraordinarily busy, that I think I can complete all of this, even though - to me - it seems like a lot.

Writing Goals:
1. Finish revising Chapters 1, 2, & 3 of WIP.
2. Rewrite Chapter 8 of WIP.
3. Do first revisions of short story, "Loss: Anne's Story."
4. Send out at least three short story submissions to magazines.

What else I have planned this weekend.
1. cleaning the apartment: not looking forward to this
2. doing my taxes: really not looking forward to this
3. working out: indifferent
4. dinner & bowling with CV & LV tonight: really looking forward to this; haven't seen them in forever!
5. lunch with G on Sunday, while she's in town from DC: really looking forward to this, too!

Last night, I was crazy busy, too, but it was a fun busy, and that's always the best kind. I was at the Serpico Shopping Extravaganza, where my little sister works, for a little while. Serpico is a great designer, inspired by architecture. Check out her Spring collection here.

I also had a quick dinner with the boy, and then went to go see I Love You, Man, which was a great comedy about bro-mance, starring Jason Segel (who I, obviously, love from HIMYM), Paul Rudd, and Rashida Jones. It was hilarious! And I think Segel & Rudd played real, believable guys. Definitely worth seeing.

Busy weekend! Better get going...

Climbing Her Way Out

An attempt at microfiction. It was crazy-hard to keep it under 150 words (it's currently 147), and I need your opinion on whether I lost the plot or meaning, if there's an "ending," etc. . . critique away! And then maybe I'll try to get it down to 100 words - yikes!

==============

The day the office celebrated Julie's year-anniversary with the accounting firm, Julie stepped off the elevator and tripped. She looked back, noticing the elevator didn't quite line up with the 15th floor. Thinking nothing of it, she went about her day, staring at numbers, waiting for the work day to end.

Each day, the elevator stopped short a few more millimeters. The millimeters turned into inches, until one day Julie had to step up to get off the elevator. When she complained to management, they tested the elevator, said nothing was amiss, and gave her a funny look.

As the elevator grew worse, Julie's work began piling up. Then, the day of her company review, the elevator stopped so short, that she couldn't see the office floor. When she reached up, to start climbing out - she couldn't. Only the tips of her fingers touched the floor.

The Typewriter

In the early 1990s, when I was kid, I either wrote my stories out long-hand or I used the family typewriter.

The typewriter sat in the back corner of the basement and faced a blank wall. I used to sit there for hours, my small fingers clicking away at the keyboard. I loved the sound of the daisywheel switching, hitting each letter against the paper. I liked rolling each individual piece of paper through the roller, watching the page move left as my words filled in to the right.

Back then, I didn't have much of an inner editor. I was a kid, willing to experiment with my words and rarely doubted myself. I was just writing, for me, myself, and I. But, if I had an inner editor back then, it had more difficulty expressing itself. With a typewriter, I couldn't just go back to an earlier paragraph and switch a couple words out, or add more sentences. I was forced to continue writing, and only erase the last few letters I wrote.

This is how I wrote my Julie & Beth story series, inspired completely by my avid reading of the Nancy Drew novels. With the typewriter, I liked the way my mystery stories laid on the page, always in a "Courier" font.

We eventually got a new-fangled computer, and my sisters and I were loathe to use anything else. The typewriter started collecting dust in the hall closet.

Years later, while in high school, I wanted the typewriter back, so I could roll a sheet of paper through it, watch my words unfold, and feel like I had to keep going... I always had that sense with a typewriter. Add a page. Roll it down an inch or so - and go.

Unfortunately, the typewriter barely worked. Certain letters failed to press ink onto the page - the letter 'e' being the worst victim of all. I tinkered with it, wanting to achieve that sense of drive I had with the typewriter when I was a kid, but I'm no mechanic. Nothing I did helped.

Now, in my mid-20s, there still seems to be something magical about that typewriter, and I don't care if I'm being nostalgic and corny - I loved that typewriter!

When you first started writing was there something that kept you writing and inspired? What was it? Why do you think it affected your writing? If it can be bought, would you buy it?

There's typewriters selling on eBay for $129. I'm pretty tempted.

Photo source: http://new.idsa.org/webmodules/articles/anmviewer.asp?a=264&z=62

Practice, Practice, Practice

My French was definitely affected by missing last week's class, due to that weird bout of pain I was in. Words that I used to know eluded me, and so, again, frustration with learning the language resumed.

We did A LOT of talking yesterday, mainly by breaking off into pairs and creating a "conversation" or "exchange" that we had to present to the class. The conversation had to be full of questions, talking about who we were, and where things were around Paris.

The girl I worked with, by far, understands the language a lot more than me, and she was really helpful in teaching me a few more words that she'd picked up on her own. Even though I stumbled through a good chunk of the convo (my nervousness about speaking in front of a classroom - whatever happened to my days of debate?!? - contributed to words flying away from me), the conversation went well. We even threw a joke or two in; my partner was an actress, and I said goodbye with "See you in your next film!" How I said that in French, again, escapes me, other than "A bientot!" (See you soon). Another reminder I need to practice even more.

Next week is the last class, which I can't believe, considering how quickly these past two months have flown. We'll be taking a test over everything we've learned; it'll be both a verbal and written test. Yikes! Definitely need to study more.

I also have to decide if I'm going to hand over more money for the next class. The class has been super-beneficial for me, not only in the way the material and class is structured, but also in providing me with an opportunity to converse and practice the language, which is obviously key to learning any language.

BUT, $260 - or thereabouts - is A LOT of money to me... money that I need for my trip. I'm heavily leaning towards buying the $20 "Teach Yourself French" books and then just practicing with my sister as well as with my friends who are fluent. I'll definitely need to create a regiment for myself in this case, just as I do with my writing, so that I can keep practicing, practicing, practicing, and not lose everything I've learned in the past 9 weeks of French!

On a total writerly side note, you can find the first 100 words of my WIP by clicking here.
Giveagirlapen.com is an AMAZING Website, and a great resource for any writer, male or female. Check it out!