I just really love fall!
My natural state of writing is past tense. It’s what I’ve written all of my books in.
I’ve been working with a writing professional on really nailing my first chapter in one of my manuscripts. She suggested I consider re-writing it from past tense to present tense.
Yeah, it really scares me. But…I have noticed that most YA in particular is written in present tense. Really, the only one I’ve read relatively recently that is written in past tense is Eleanor & Park. I’m not opposed to re-writing in present, or even the amount of work it might take, but what a brain shift that would be.
So I’ve been waiting all year for the item featured below to reappear in Cold Storage, a grocery store that carries lots of Western food. Then found out that select ones have had it all along, haha. Anyway, it FINALLY happened.
I was so, so excited. The price was a bit scary–like $6 a can. My lovely little sister just had to point out that she bought a can for $.88…. Us expats always get excited when our things randomly appear in stores. Besides canned pumpkin, my most recent happy discovery was Peanut Butter Captain Crunch.
So I’ve been baking lots of pumpkin things lol.
Non-American friends, the traditional way my family prepares it is to buy a can of pureed pumpkin, mix in two eggs, sugar, clove, ginger, cinnamon, and condensed milk, then pour it into a pie crust. Super easy. I’ve never made the pumpkin part from an actual pumpkin, but I’ve heard it takes, um, skill. You use a pie pumpkin, which is smaller than the kind we Muricans like to carve.
(North) American friends, you may not realize this, but we are pretty much the only ones that eat pumpkin pie or pumpkin desserts really. Non-Americans have heard of pumpkin pie in relation to Thanksgiving, a few may have tried it, but it’s not really a thing outside the US. One of my American expat friends used to live in London and she had a really tough time even finding pumpkin pie mix. To get to the bottom of North America’s general ownership of all things pumpkin, I googled “why do Americans eat pumpkin pie”. Apparently pumpkin is native to North America. Obviously, they finish growing around October/harvest time, which is why we eat these pies in the fall/winter. (Perhaps while watching NFL football haha) It didn’t become associated with Thanksgiving until the 1800’s.
So yesterday I made a pumpkin pie for my British friends. I even went out and bought the canned spray whip cream stuff–“dessert topping” with Chinese writing all over it but allegedly made in the good ol’ USA. It tasted fine, despite the general sketchiness of the whole thing.
So back to my friends. Once they figured out how to operate the “dessert topping” can (which apparently has a different spraying mechanism than in the UK), the pumpkin pie was a big hit. Or at least they said it was to make me feel good, lol. One friend suggested having it with a bit of tea (again) :P
Bonus additional “more American than apple pie” food item: S’Mores. Yup. American. Made those for a few of my friends, too. They did not approve of using Hershey’s chocolate, but really it’s the only one that works. You have to have thin chocolate! So I think the pumpkin pie was better received.
…and all my friends back home are posting pictures of their seasonal pumpkin ales and Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Jealous. We Americans love our pumpkin.
So pumpkin pie, more American than apple pie because apples grow e’erwhere. Pumpkins are our thang. :P.
Yup. So I’ve got two works in progress right now, in case you haven’t read some of my previous blog entries. Hooligans is set in Northern Ireland, that one’s pretty much done and dusted…apart from the first chapter intervention I’ve got someone helping me with. The second, tentatively called Rafa & Rose, is set in rural Wisconsin. I just sent fifty pages to my co-author, whose job is to A) add Spanish language and Mexican culture references for Rafa’s POV chapters and help write family dynamics B) help me with everything else, from capturing awkward teenage puppy love to describing high school life (ranging from Homecoming competitions to English Lit curriculum :P ).
As a full-time, unpaid writer, WHAT DO I DO with myself while I wait? Hooligans I really just need that first chapter. Once that’s on lockdown, I’m querying. Rafa & Rose…I really can’t proceed until I get my good, great friend Ana’s feedback. We have to plan a turning point scene that’s of critical importance. Nothing I can do with that one. Which means I’m stuck on both my manuscripts. Non-writers be like read a book or watch a movie or something like normal people do. But my brain is still in the writing zone, you know that creative buzz that fuels all your best writing. The writer’s high, as I call it. I feel it in my brain, but I can’t use it! It’s driving me crazy!
Hmm maybe I should paint. Rafa & Rose does feature a Homecoming window painting competition. My MCs get forced to work on it together and that’s what starts their relationship. I could try to recreate their painting…. Though I don’t know if I have the skill haha. Or I could bust out my first novel, the one I made fun of on my blog a few weeks back. I actually have a later draft that’s much better…
Writer friends, whether it’s at the editor’s or with a critique partner or you’re just stuck, what do you do when you can’t work on your MS? Do you ever feel like this? (or am I the weird writer here :P )
Both of my manuscripts are first person POV, with two characters each. So here’s me, trying to edit a story set in Northern Ireland with a character from Belfast like basically. Then switchin’ to a WIP set in rural Wisconsin starring a girl from a poor, white trashy background and a Latino boy. For Chrissake, it’s mental gymnastics, so it is! Crap, why do I do this to myself? This is kind of what it’s doing to my brain.
¡Gracias a Dios! for my Latina co-writer, who’s handling language and culture for the Wisconsin WIP, but I still have to get myself into the head of Latino boy fighting to overcome racism and all kinds of barriers to get to college. Which is a wee bit different from my Belfast paramilitary hooligan with a heart of gold.
The girls are a bit easier at least, as their brains are more in line with my own. But still, I’ve got a highly motivated, straight-laced girl who’s involved at school contrasted with an underachieving loner in an unhealthy relationship with a scrubby older guy and a meth head mother. So there’s that. At least the setting for the Wisconsin one is easy for me and fun to explore from Singapore. Though I did have to face down a few inner baddies… And slay them :D
I love both my manuscripts. Life will be easier when i finally finalize Hooligans (it is SO close, I swear), and I’ll have Rafa & Rose to focus on while I query.
Have you ever found yourself working on two completely different manuscripts at once? What was that experience like?
Yeah, sometimes I absolutely need a change of scenery or I just might lose it lol. It’s amazing how just the bus ride over can refresh my brain, the forced break from writing. Plus I can people watch. Lately, I’ve been spying on young couples engaging in PDA on the bus.
Anyway, being in a new setting shifts my mental state and gives me a creative boost. It refreshes me so I can keep going. Sometimes I meet with other writer friends and we write together, hopefully without too much chatting. I’ve found a few coffee shops in Singapore that have become my go-to escape from my dining room table. One even knows my order! Yay! It’s Blue Orange Mocha, which tastes like those chocolate orange things wrapped in orange foil that you can get a Christmas in the U.S.. It is kind of amazing.
Do you have a favorite place to escape and write in when your brain’s about to leak out of your ears? What about it helps you write?
(I’m blue text bubbles, he’s gray)
So my husband and I have been teaching our English friend the ways of NFL Fantasy Football, which is apparently is much more complicated than like English Premiere League Fantasy Football. He’s come a long way since he auto-drafted, after which I sat him down and said, “Friend, you don’t need four defenses and two kickers.” That Englishman is 3-0! I should really stop helping him, especially since I’m 0-3 :(….
I feel like a disgrace to America. And the Packers lost last week, so it was a rough, rough week for SJC in the world of football. But my good, good English friend sent me this to cheer me up, which really does help a lot (though I hope it wasn’t a serious injury, I am a nice person, I swear).
So anyway, this Facebook message exchange was prompted by my reminder to check his line-up since regular season Bye weeks start this week. Please excuse my ignorance about the actual reason for Bye weeks, lol, I googled it and apparently it’s done to extend the regular season. Please correct me if I’m wrong.
It was just so hilarious, I had to share. It’s so fun teaching our friend the very, very complicated ways of the NFL.
So I pull up on this pick-up and there are four–FOUR–calves just hanging out back there keeping it real. I’ve lived in Wisconsin since I was three (oh, and excluding this past year). That was a first. I guess you gotta get your cows around somehow and maybe this guy didn’t have a cattle trailer thing. Oh, Wisconsin, I miss you.
So I pounded out 40,000 words on my new YA novel! Eek! Yeah, I’ve really been getting into it. I set this novel in Sparta, Wisconsin,self-proclaimed “Bicycling Capitol of America” because it’s at the junction of two big bicycling trails. Sparta’s a town of almost 10,000 tucked in Western Wisconsin’s rolling hills, ridges and coulees, created by the Mississippi River. I wanted to explore the people, the culture, the life of this area of Wisconsin. I am also exploring the mindset, which can be hard and personal at times. (side note: I drop a bunch of g’s in -ing words in this post because that’s how people talk in at least parts of Wisconsin. Heck, I have to consciously THINK about not dropping g’s).
A lot of people I knew and worked with and hung out with in Sparta had a much smaller view of the world than I had at the time and much, much smaller than I have now. But to them, their world felt big, and the little events around town felt exciting. For a lot of them, Sparta was pretty much their world. Vacation was going to the Dells, Twin Cities, Chicago, maybe Florida. But there’s a simplicity to the life that has a certain beauty, which I can now appreciate. Everyone knows everyone. You go to Wal-Mart or Piggly Wiggly and run into people you know and catch up. My favorite part of the Sparta newspaper is “Local and Society,” where you can read about who came home to visit, people’s trips to the Twin Cities to catch a show, family vacations to Orlando. Maybe goin’ fishin’ up at the cabin (if you got one) or goin’ campin’. Oh, and I also like to read the “Arrested” column and Divorce/Marriage certificates, just to see if I know anyone :P
Butterfest and 4th of July and Homecoming parades and baseball games down at Memorial Park.Walking down to Memorial Park for the 4th of July, Weddings at the bowling alley, Club 16, or the VFW (cuz that pretty much exhausts your options for wedding venues in Sparta). The big summer concert sponsored by Fort McCoy’s MWR. Butterfest, bar-sponsored baseball games transitioning to high school football games when the leaves change.
(The flea market and craft fair at the annual Sparta Butterfest. Um… You know you live in the North, right?)
Most people from Western Wisconsin’s ancestors came from (southern?) Germany and Norway and places like that a few generations back. Wisconsin’s only been a state since 1848 and Sparta was settled later than that. Ninety-five percent of Wisconsinites have at least some German ancestory. This impacts how we talk and drink and other parts of our culture, like our general stalwartness (not a word, I know, but it fits). Wisconsinites are tough. You have to be with our crazy winters. I mean, two feet of snow and we may still have school the next day? School doesn’t get cancelled unless it drops like ten degrees below zero Fahrenheit (not including wind chill). And when you make eye contact, people smile and may throw in a “How’s it goin’?” To which you respond with ONLY “good” or “fine”, nothing more. Or maybe, “oh she’s goin’.” Or perhaps they might greet you with “How ’bout them Packers?”
Walking down Water Street in Sparta, you’ll find pretty much every other shop being a bar, alternating between second-hand stores and restaurants and other little stores that turned over pretty quickly. And then there would be the one you hoped stayed open, like Ginny’s Cupboard, a cute little coffee shop that had good mochas for Sparta.
Goin’ out on the weekends and always seeing pretty much the same people.In high school. Stay tuned for my upcoming post on the bars of rural/semi-rural Wisconsin. In high school, it was Friday and Saturday nights at the bowling alley or the movie theater, maybe driving around in the country. Maybe going to parties or deer shining or mudding or ‘coon bashing (that means RACOON, let me be clear. Oh, and I didn’t do anything in that sentence). Future Farmers of America and Drive Your Tractor/Snowmobile to School Day.
Weekly summer concerts at Evans-Bossard featuring local acts. Christmas lights in December.
Cranfest over in Warrens that last weekend in September, a town of like 400 invaded by hundreds of thousands of people on the hunt for crafts and bargain buys from the flea markets and random things like snake oil to promote virility or something like that. Hoards of women wearing silly hats and dressing up for the occasion in matching sweatshirts they may have made special just for the weekend, arriving at the crack of dawn to get the best stuff, bringing strollers and trolleys and wagons just to haul around their treasures. Walking tacos, brats, corn on the cob, funnel cake, cheese curds, cranberry cream puffs. Carnival rides and food trucks tucked between houses. A massive parade that lasts for hours; local high school and middle school marching bands compete to win first place; Miss Cranfest, Miss Sparta, Miss every local own around sit on own floats wearing pretty dresses with jackets over their shoulders, smiling and waving. And, without fail, the bagpipe band from La Crosse.
Men (and women) vacating the town that last week of November for gun deer hunting season. A noticeable drop in attendance at school the three days before Thanksgiving. Excitement over deer carcasses hauled into town in the backs of trucks to be processed. Pride while sharing that you got a (insert number here) point buck, or disappointment if you SEEN one (“I seen”, not “I saw”) but it got away before you brought it down. Driving through the country those days, seeing blaze orange speckling the empty farm fields and bare-branch forests. Advertisements in the paper and Wal-Mart and local bars for ladies’ bar specials or shopping trips or church dinners for while their men are away huntin’.
Knowing when the Packers are playing because the streets and Wal-Mart and Piggly Wiggly and McDonalds and Taco Bell are empty. Ghost town. Now the bars on the other hand… :P Go, Pack, Go!
Once winter rolls in, obviously more Packers, but also and shovlin’ and snow blowin’ all that snow (and helping the neighbors), doing donuts in the parking lot and goin’ ice fishin’ and snowmobilin,’ sometimes up to the Kwik Trip…or the bar, lol. Then when it finally gets about 40 degrees Fahrenheit in, I don’t know, maybe March…shorts! That snow won’t be all gone until April anyway. And there could always be that freak snowstorm in May. Cookouts featuring beer-boiled brats with sauerkraut, washing it down with Spotted Cow or a Leinie’s Summer Shandy while playin’ yard games like Cornhole, testicle toss, and washers.
Riding a bar-sponsored school bus down to the big city of Milwaukee, drinkin’ beer all the way, tailgatin’ before the Brewers games. Cuz, you know, driving in Milwaukee tends to be terrifying for small-town folk (and I can say that officially because I was a small-town folk who moved to the MKE), and then you couldn’t drink…as much.
When I finally got out of Sparta, it felt like I’d escaped a prison. Since then I can say with all humility that I’ve seen quite a lot of the world compared to your average American. I can think of maybe one person I went to high school with that has traveled more than me. Now that I’ve been living in the concrete and glass jungle of Singapore for a year, I can say in all honesty that I really do miss he smalless and simplicity, the sense of community. The beauty of the bluffs and leaves changing and winter and watching a hometown parade. Hearing the Wisconsin accent while people talk about the Packers.
Wow, so that was a deep post, Sarah! :P And it started off so funny. This novel’s really dredging up a lot of stuff for me, good and bad, but mostly good. I guess that’s a sign that it’s important for me to write, if not just for myself.