No matter how skilled you are, building a new universe in any genre is challenging. I've relied heavily on history, sciences and the arts to inspire mine. Music used to be my first jumping-off point, but since I've become hearing impaired that's one I had to let go. Once I get hearing aids that hopefully stop all music from sounding like white noise to me, that may change. Until then I have to draw on other sources of inspiration.
History and its mysteries always rev my imagination's engine. I just finished watching Ken Burns' The Civil War on DVD (I highly recommend for any history buff). I invested when I heard PBS put out a 25th anniversary edition. I loved the documentary series when it first debuted, so I was just revisiting an old favorite. I didn't expect to get flooded with new ideas for an upcoming project (not, as it happens, about the Civil War).
The ideas came anyway. What happens in a conflict where both sides believe God is on their side, and they see their reasons and causes as completely righteous, and the enemy's as deplorable? What motivates people to choose their side? What are the consequences when all the players are fighting for their world's survival -- and it's the same world? What happens when a third party enters the conflict with their own, different motivations and concerns -- also for the same world?
Building essentially three universes in this project, which is also a continuation of an already-established universe with many other sides, factions and conflicts, is when I shift into multiversing. To do that, I have to maintain a strong core universe that doesn't change, which is the hub. Think of it as the center of a spiderweb. That's what you build on, the world and the rules that always remain intact. Your hub can be anything: the city, country, planet, time period, whatever, but it should be able to serve as the foundation for anything you build on it.
As an example, let's imagine multiversing during the Civil War. You have North and South, Ulysses S. Grant, Robert E. Lee, Abraham Lincoln, and Jefferson Davis. You know the war lasts for four years. You have two armies: the Union and the Confederacy. You know Succession was the official reason for starting the war, and ending slavery was the finishing of it. That's your hub.
All of the elements of the Civil War make great inspiration for multiversing. You can tell stories from the POV of any player, as long as you remain true to your hub (as in, Robert E. Lee doesn't defect to the Union in year two, unless you're writing Alternate History, in which case you can do whatever you like, as long as you carry the change through the entire conflict.) You can introduce all manner of conflicts behind the scenes of the battles, as long as the battles remain the same. You can even offer different, plausible spins on what did happen during the war, such as why Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain ordered the 20th Maine to fix bayonets and carry out a simultaneous frontal and flanking maneuver when their ammunition was running low at Gettysburg. For his heroism Chamberlain was awarded the Medal of Honor.
Some years later one of Chamberlain's subordinates claimed that he never issued that order. So let's imagine that guy was telling the truth. So, who did give the order? Why? What happened to him? Why did they cover it up by saying Chamberlain gave the order? Answering those questions builds a new universe atop the hub.
Now extend the same logic to other, significant events during the battles. What if one of the commanders of the Union army was a Confederate sympathizer? You can tailor your universes to your genre, too. Mystery writers, what if he was being blackmailed? Paranormal writers, what if he was a vampire, a werewolf, or a seer? Romance writers, what if he was in love with a female Confederate spy? Or a runaway slave who had just been captured by the other side? The possibilities are literally endless.
One final bit of advice: the more universes you layer atop a hub world, the more details you have to carry over into the next installment. So create a universe bible or running timeline to keep track of the details that have to stay true. If in the first universe you make all the soldiers carry silver bayonets to kill werewolf opponents, for example, then silver bayonets have to become standard equipment in every successive universe you build on the same hub. What changes has to be carried through, so consider carefully what you want to alter. If you have Robert E. Lee defect to the Union halfway through the war, then obviously he's not going to lead the Confederacy into any more battles. Unless they send him back to work as a Union spy. See, there's always a way to top a universe with another one.
Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Friday, May 25, 2018
Friday, March 30, 2018
Stranger Than Fiction
Inspiration for stories come from innumerable sources, but I find most of mine in the real world. I especially love the unsolved mysteries of history, as they can be a wonderful focus for the imagination. Unsolved puzzles and indecipherable relics are my favorites, because there are no answers, only questions. I've talked about my fascination with and theories about The Voynich manuscript and how to use other mysterious finds as story starters; today let's look at another one:

People have been bickering over the origins of the Dighton Rock for centuries. Discovered in the Taunton River in Massachusetts, this big rock has enduring intrigue written all over it. Cotton Mather talked about the mystery it presented back in 1690; others have attributed it to the ancient Spaniards, Phoenicians, and Vikings. It may even date back to 1502 or so. Since it's a forty-ton boulder covered with enigmatic and potentially untranslatable petroglyphs, that debate will likely continue.
Chiseling images in stone is not an easy task. Someone spent considerable time creating the glyphs on this rock. Before you ponder what it means, consider why the artist would go to all that trouble. Does the Dighton Rock offer an ominous warning, such as "Everyone who follows the river beyond this point dies badly" or could it be graffiti along the lines of "For a good time, visit the village around the next bend."
I see a horse, a fish, three people and four X's in the rock's image. It also looks a bit like a map to me. I could easily write a story about seven wandering medieval soldiers in a strange land, four of whom died in a skirmish with the locals. Since the survivors are left with only one horse, the dead are buried by the river along with a fabulous paranormal treasure they were transporting. The other three miss their ship's sailing and are marooned in this new land where their treasure is now worthless. They make friends with the locals and join their tribe (or lose another skirmish), and the treasure is forgotten.
Now fast-forward to modern times: the last descendant of the survivors decides to investigate and comes to examine the glyphs, and discovers the four dead guys didn't stay dead? Competes with another survivor to find the treasure? Finds the treasure and is transformed by it? Lots of possibilities.
What story could this rock help you tell?
People have been bickering over the origins of the Dighton Rock for centuries. Discovered in the Taunton River in Massachusetts, this big rock has enduring intrigue written all over it. Cotton Mather talked about the mystery it presented back in 1690; others have attributed it to the ancient Spaniards, Phoenicians, and Vikings. It may even date back to 1502 or so. Since it's a forty-ton boulder covered with enigmatic and potentially untranslatable petroglyphs, that debate will likely continue.
Chiseling images in stone is not an easy task. Someone spent considerable time creating the glyphs on this rock. Before you ponder what it means, consider why the artist would go to all that trouble. Does the Dighton Rock offer an ominous warning, such as "Everyone who follows the river beyond this point dies badly" or could it be graffiti along the lines of "For a good time, visit the village around the next bend."
I see a horse, a fish, three people and four X's in the rock's image. It also looks a bit like a map to me. I could easily write a story about seven wandering medieval soldiers in a strange land, four of whom died in a skirmish with the locals. Since the survivors are left with only one horse, the dead are buried by the river along with a fabulous paranormal treasure they were transporting. The other three miss their ship's sailing and are marooned in this new land where their treasure is now worthless. They make friends with the locals and join their tribe (or lose another skirmish), and the treasure is forgotten.
Now fast-forward to modern times: the last descendant of the survivors decides to investigate and comes to examine the glyphs, and discovers the four dead guys didn't stay dead? Competes with another survivor to find the treasure? Finds the treasure and is transformed by it? Lots of possibilities.
What story could this rock help you tell?
Friday, August 18, 2017
For Art's Sake
This is another pic test, but also displays what was a big step for me as a quilter. Over the summer I made my first official art quilt (which I define as a quilted piece created organically and strictly to function as art.) I've done some crazy quilted and fiber art pieces, but both times I used stitch guides or patterns. This time I planned nothing, collected the materials I wanted to use as I spotted them, and then put it together and embroidered and quilted it. No patterns. No stitch guide. I designed it based on things in my life, and went with improvisational stitching.
How was it, working on the art quilt? I can tell you that it felt intimidating and frustrating, and at times scared the crap out of me. The whole time I worked on it I wanted to run for my how-to books and use something from them rather than invent my own designs. Even as I put the last stitches in I considered hiding it under the bed.
It's definitely not perfect, and I've seen art quilts that are a hundred times better. I also love every single awkward unplanned imperfect stitch of it, because it's mine. My world. My art. My hands. My vision. I know because I did the same thing thirty-three years ago when I wrote my first novel.
I had no practical reason to make this art quilt. The time I used to work on it could have been spent working on a handmade gift for someone else -- I live in what has become the house of quilts, so I give away almost everything I make now to family or friends. I didn't need another wall hanging; I'm actually running out of wall space in the office. When I thought about it before I made it, I felt like I was being selfish to put so much of my spare time into what seemed basically useless.
Any of that sound familiar? Most of us are so busy with making a living or caring/providing for family that we feel guilty when we give a little of ourselves to our art. To do something just to create beauty, that doesn't generate income, almost seems wasteful. To vent or rejoice or mourn or celebrate through art is probably the best therapy on the planet, and yet we beat ourselves for doing it, or behave as if it's something we have to do in secret, like using drugs or booze.
This art quilt, awkward and amateurish as it is, represents one of the changes I'm making in my creative life. I'm taking a little time for me now, and I don't feel guilty about that. I've spent my life to caring for and giving to others. There are still things I need to discover. I'm going looking for them.
How was it, working on the art quilt? I can tell you that it felt intimidating and frustrating, and at times scared the crap out of me. The whole time I worked on it I wanted to run for my how-to books and use something from them rather than invent my own designs. Even as I put the last stitches in I considered hiding it under the bed.
It's definitely not perfect, and I've seen art quilts that are a hundred times better. I also love every single awkward unplanned imperfect stitch of it, because it's mine. My world. My art. My hands. My vision. I know because I did the same thing thirty-three years ago when I wrote my first novel.
I had no practical reason to make this art quilt. The time I used to work on it could have been spent working on a handmade gift for someone else -- I live in what has become the house of quilts, so I give away almost everything I make now to family or friends. I didn't need another wall hanging; I'm actually running out of wall space in the office. When I thought about it before I made it, I felt like I was being selfish to put so much of my spare time into what seemed basically useless.
Any of that sound familiar? Most of us are so busy with making a living or caring/providing for family that we feel guilty when we give a little of ourselves to our art. To do something just to create beauty, that doesn't generate income, almost seems wasteful. To vent or rejoice or mourn or celebrate through art is probably the best therapy on the planet, and yet we beat ourselves for doing it, or behave as if it's something we have to do in secret, like using drugs or booze.
This art quilt, awkward and amateurish as it is, represents one of the changes I'm making in my creative life. I'm taking a little time for me now, and I don't feel guilty about that. I've spent my life to caring for and giving to others. There are still things I need to discover. I'm going looking for them.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Jump Start Ten
Ten Things You Can Do to Jump Start Your Writing Life
Color Spark: Put together a palette of colors (DeGraeve's Palette Generator will make one for you based on any online pic you feed to it) and create a character or setting based on the color combination.
Copy That: Write cover copy for a short story or novel you want to write. If you like how it comes out, use the copy as your story outline.
Cover It: Create a book cover for a story you want to write, and hang it up in your writing space as inspiration/motivation. Or use a cover generator like this French one (input your byline in the box and pick an edition) to generate something random, and write a story based on your results.
Descriptive: Go to a beautiful spot with a notebook, pen and (optional) camera. Describe where you are and what you see in as much detail as you can in your notebook. If you bring a camera, take photos of the most interesting aspects of your spot. You now have the setting for a scene; when you get home write one.
Eavesdrop: The next time you go out (and make sure you do this discreetly/safely) take a notepad and jot down the most interesting things you hear the people around you say. When you get home, choose one or more of the things you wrote down as dialogue, and write them into a scene.
Hour Aside: Devote one hour at the same time every day to work on a writing project (or, if you don't have one, start a new project.) People with day jobs, try getting up an hour earlier -- that always works for me.
Idea Book/Journal: Start a journal of writing ideas. You can just list whatever comes to mind when you think about writing. If you already have enough story ideas, write a journal from the POV of a character.
Super Short: Write a flash fiction of 100 words or less. If you want a real challenge, write a one-sentence story.
Trunk Treasures: Unearth any old story you never finished. Take from it one element (character, dialogue, plot, setting) and use that as inspiration for a new short story.
Uncontest: Find a fee-free writing contest that intrigues you, and write a submission for that contest just for fun (note: if you finish the story in time for the contest's deadline, submitting it would be awesome.)
Color Spark: Put together a palette of colors (DeGraeve's Palette Generator will make one for you based on any online pic you feed to it) and create a character or setting based on the color combination.
Copy That: Write cover copy for a short story or novel you want to write. If you like how it comes out, use the copy as your story outline.
Cover It: Create a book cover for a story you want to write, and hang it up in your writing space as inspiration/motivation. Or use a cover generator like this French one (input your byline in the box and pick an edition) to generate something random, and write a story based on your results.
Descriptive: Go to a beautiful spot with a notebook, pen and (optional) camera. Describe where you are and what you see in as much detail as you can in your notebook. If you bring a camera, take photos of the most interesting aspects of your spot. You now have the setting for a scene; when you get home write one.
Eavesdrop: The next time you go out (and make sure you do this discreetly/safely) take a notepad and jot down the most interesting things you hear the people around you say. When you get home, choose one or more of the things you wrote down as dialogue, and write them into a scene.
Hour Aside: Devote one hour at the same time every day to work on a writing project (or, if you don't have one, start a new project.) People with day jobs, try getting up an hour earlier -- that always works for me.
Idea Book/Journal: Start a journal of writing ideas. You can just list whatever comes to mind when you think about writing. If you already have enough story ideas, write a journal from the POV of a character.
Super Short: Write a flash fiction of 100 words or less. If you want a real challenge, write a one-sentence story.
Trunk Treasures: Unearth any old story you never finished. Take from it one element (character, dialogue, plot, setting) and use that as inspiration for a new short story.
Uncontest: Find a fee-free writing contest that intrigues you, and write a submission for that contest just for fun (note: if you finish the story in time for the contest's deadline, submitting it would be awesome.)
Labels:
inspiration,
story ideas,
ten things,
the writing life
Monday, July 31, 2017
Everyday Inspiration
I stopped burying myself in have-tos and must-dos. I started going outside again, and taking pictures of cool bugs. I wandered a little every day, not to search for anything specific but to be open to inspiration. That cool bug (only the second mantis I've seen since we moved here) inspired a character in the novel I just finished; one who turned out so well that my client complimented me for it.
Would I have created the character without seeing the cool bug? Maybe -- but it probably would have taken longer, and the character might not have been as original. Taking five minutes to admire and photograph this little critter was just for fun, but it helped me with the work, too.
The process made me appreciate modern fabrics; their deceptively simple patterns become classy and vibrant when you start putting them together. The challenge of making such graphic materials work together taught me some new tricks. Since I'm now set on making a true black and white quilt, I think it expanded my horizons a bit, too.
We tend to get complacent with our creativity. I've been doing the same things over and over because I'm pretty good at them, I don't have to think about the work involved much, and the results are predictable and positive. Whether it's quilting or writing or anything, there's nothing wrong with sticking to what you know. That said, unless we try new things once in a while, we can't grow.
What have you done lately to seek new sources of inspiration? Let us know in comments.
Thursday, June 02, 2016
Trying New Things
In between projects for the clients I've been experimenting with some different vintage fabrics and making them into neat stuff. One came out rather extra-neat:

This piece of chenille is in one of my favorite shades of peachy orange, but I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. I've never actually worked with chenille before this piece arrived in an inspiration bundle I bought to challenge myself.
I kept looking at the spaces between the fluff, and thought right out of the blue: why not feather stitch them?

So I did, in a very random, free-form way. Lots of feather stitches. It was also great practice for me as my hand-stitching has been a bit sloppy lately.

The end result came out better than I expected, and since I've never seen anyone else do this with chenille, I felt quite inventive.
Moral of the story: don't be afraid to try something you've never seen done. You may end up with a cool pillow, or maybe something even better.
This piece of chenille is in one of my favorite shades of peachy orange, but I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. I've never actually worked with chenille before this piece arrived in an inspiration bundle I bought to challenge myself.
I kept looking at the spaces between the fluff, and thought right out of the blue: why not feather stitch them?
So I did, in a very random, free-form way. Lots of feather stitches. It was also great practice for me as my hand-stitching has been a bit sloppy lately.
The end result came out better than I expected, and since I've never seen anyone else do this with chenille, I felt quite inventive.
Moral of the story: don't be afraid to try something you've never seen done. You may end up with a cool pillow, or maybe something even better.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Eye of the Storyteller
I'm not done lecturing you all about getting out in the world with a camera to hunt down some inspiration. Photographs are amazing wells of story ideas and solutions to your writing problems, but it's also about looking at everything with a storyteller's eye.
Three examples:

I took this pic because I like taking pictures of old buildings; they're more attractive to me than modern/new/hip structures. I also liked the circular brick pattern, which may or may not have once been a window.
Let's say it was, and look at it as a storytelling opportunity. The first thing I noticed is that brick inside the circle window is much more modern than what was used to build the structure. That shows a stretch of time between the creation of this place, and a very strange renovation.
So why did they brick up the window? What was inside? Were they trying to keep something in (a monster), or keep something out (sunlight)? What happens if those bricks are removed by say, the new owner, who has decided to renovate the old place?

Walking around an old church, I happened to look down to see this patchwork of old porcelain tiles. I snapped a pic just because they were pretty.
Now switch to your storyteller's eye. The tiles are pretty, but they're also in a definite pattern. The plainer blue tiles look like buttons, too. What if they aren't just tiles?
Four people walk around this church, and as they're in a huddle talking about the next sight to see they inadvertently stand on the four plain blue tiles. What happens next? How does it relate to the old church? Does it change those four people -- or are they transported to another place?

During our road trip we stopped at a little country diner to have breakfast, and I saw this quirky old family tree photo collage on the wall behind our table. I don't really know why I took a photo of it. Maybe just because it was in a diner.
Let's take a closer look at one section of it:

Two photos are missing. Perhaps the person who made the collage never managed to find pics of Moses and Harriet. But then why tag the empty spaces? What happened to those pictures? What about the two pics between the spaces? Why does Caroline look so smug (and more like a guy in drag than a lady?) What reason does Silas have to look so menacing? Or is he afraid?
Imagine you're a waitress closing up the diner for the night, and you just noticed those pictures are missing -- and two people who look exactly like Caroline and Silas are sitting at a table and looking at you like you're a menu. What happens next?
If I want to answer my questions about my pictures in interesting ways, I write a story. I think there is something in that old building with the bricked-in window, and the new owner renovating the place is about to set it free for the first time in two centuries. My four tourists at the church do accidentally stand on those four blue tiles, and will be transported to the time the church was being built. As for Caroline and Silas, they do corner my waitress in the diner for their own dark purposes -- at least until Moses and Harriet, her great-great-grandparents, show up.
So get that camera and get out there to take some shots. Look at your pictures later with your storyteller's eye, ask questions, and use your imagination to answer them. That's all there is to it.
Three examples:
I took this pic because I like taking pictures of old buildings; they're more attractive to me than modern/new/hip structures. I also liked the circular brick pattern, which may or may not have once been a window.
Let's say it was, and look at it as a storytelling opportunity. The first thing I noticed is that brick inside the circle window is much more modern than what was used to build the structure. That shows a stretch of time between the creation of this place, and a very strange renovation.
So why did they brick up the window? What was inside? Were they trying to keep something in (a monster), or keep something out (sunlight)? What happens if those bricks are removed by say, the new owner, who has decided to renovate the old place?
Walking around an old church, I happened to look down to see this patchwork of old porcelain tiles. I snapped a pic just because they were pretty.
Now switch to your storyteller's eye. The tiles are pretty, but they're also in a definite pattern. The plainer blue tiles look like buttons, too. What if they aren't just tiles?
Four people walk around this church, and as they're in a huddle talking about the next sight to see they inadvertently stand on the four plain blue tiles. What happens next? How does it relate to the old church? Does it change those four people -- or are they transported to another place?
During our road trip we stopped at a little country diner to have breakfast, and I saw this quirky old family tree photo collage on the wall behind our table. I don't really know why I took a photo of it. Maybe just because it was in a diner.
Let's take a closer look at one section of it:
Two photos are missing. Perhaps the person who made the collage never managed to find pics of Moses and Harriet. But then why tag the empty spaces? What happened to those pictures? What about the two pics between the spaces? Why does Caroline look so smug (and more like a guy in drag than a lady?) What reason does Silas have to look so menacing? Or is he afraid?
Imagine you're a waitress closing up the diner for the night, and you just noticed those pictures are missing -- and two people who look exactly like Caroline and Silas are sitting at a table and looking at you like you're a menu. What happens next?
If I want to answer my questions about my pictures in interesting ways, I write a story. I think there is something in that old building with the bricked-in window, and the new owner renovating the place is about to set it free for the first time in two centuries. My four tourists at the church do accidentally stand on those four blue tiles, and will be transported to the time the church was being built. As for Caroline and Silas, they do corner my waitress in the diner for their own dark purposes -- at least until Moses and Harriet, her great-great-grandparents, show up.
So get that camera and get out there to take some shots. Look at your pictures later with your storyteller's eye, ask questions, and use your imagination to answer them. That's all there is to it.
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
Fountains of Ideas
One of my favorite times to look for story inspiration is when I'm outdoors or traveling somewhere. This is why my camera goes with me everywhere, too -- one picture can often fire my imagination with such a blaze of thoughts and associations that I can keep building and expanding on that image until I have a novel. If I'm really lucky, my photos can also help me write my way out of a story problem, too.
Case in point: I'm working on a project for a client that I thought needed an additional scene, and that's about all I can tell you about both without violating my NDA. I needed to pitch an idea, too, but I kept coming up short on ideas to make it interesting as well as significant to the story. While I was driving myself crazy trying to arm-wrestle some inspiration out of my brain, I sat down to take a look at a bunch of pics I took on a recent trip to one of my favorite southern cities, St. Augustine, and decide which ones I wanted to print out.
I photographed a lot of fountains on that particular trip, and I smiled when I saw this one:

Here's a closer look (you gotta love six guy heads spitting into a basin):

One of the aspects of this funny fountain is a great story element, too, and it appealed to me as a tool I could use in my scene pitch. How I might do that came with the color of this fountain in front of one of my favorite restaurants:

You just don't see that many red fountains around, right? My thought exactly -- and that bloomed into a bigger concept. Finally, I looked at this pic that I took from the side of a gorgeous fountain, so that the sunlight and shadows would show off the intricate art:

From that angle several details jumped out at me, all of which dovetailed nicely with my concept.
I still didn't have the scene idea fully realized, but I had enough to let it percolate while I went to make dinner. As I cooked I thought about precisely what attracted me to each fountain picture, and how I could work that emotional response into my scene and get it to motivate my characters. I rewound the project in my head to see what it would best fit with in the backstory. I looked for opportunities where I could put my personal stamp on it as well.
All the elements I found interesting came together with the needs of the story. By the time I was washing the dishes I had it. The end result was not a fountain in the story, but a new construct formed from these fountains of inspiration. I pitched the new scene idea that I built with them, and the client loved it. Tomorrow I'm writing it in and I already know it's made this part of the project stronger, more cohesive and definitely more interesting. The best part? It's not filler. It's what was missing.
Next time you feel stumped with a story, grab your camera, go take a drive or a walk, and take pics of whatever catches your eye. There is a little story fountain inside your head, and sometimes all you need to do is prime it.
Case in point: I'm working on a project for a client that I thought needed an additional scene, and that's about all I can tell you about both without violating my NDA. I needed to pitch an idea, too, but I kept coming up short on ideas to make it interesting as well as significant to the story. While I was driving myself crazy trying to arm-wrestle some inspiration out of my brain, I sat down to take a look at a bunch of pics I took on a recent trip to one of my favorite southern cities, St. Augustine, and decide which ones I wanted to print out.
I photographed a lot of fountains on that particular trip, and I smiled when I saw this one:
Here's a closer look (you gotta love six guy heads spitting into a basin):
One of the aspects of this funny fountain is a great story element, too, and it appealed to me as a tool I could use in my scene pitch. How I might do that came with the color of this fountain in front of one of my favorite restaurants:
You just don't see that many red fountains around, right? My thought exactly -- and that bloomed into a bigger concept. Finally, I looked at this pic that I took from the side of a gorgeous fountain, so that the sunlight and shadows would show off the intricate art:
From that angle several details jumped out at me, all of which dovetailed nicely with my concept.
I still didn't have the scene idea fully realized, but I had enough to let it percolate while I went to make dinner. As I cooked I thought about precisely what attracted me to each fountain picture, and how I could work that emotional response into my scene and get it to motivate my characters. I rewound the project in my head to see what it would best fit with in the backstory. I looked for opportunities where I could put my personal stamp on it as well.
All the elements I found interesting came together with the needs of the story. By the time I was washing the dishes I had it. The end result was not a fountain in the story, but a new construct formed from these fountains of inspiration. I pitched the new scene idea that I built with them, and the client loved it. Tomorrow I'm writing it in and I already know it's made this part of the project stronger, more cohesive and definitely more interesting. The best part? It's not filler. It's what was missing.
Next time you feel stumped with a story, grab your camera, go take a drive or a walk, and take pics of whatever catches your eye. There is a little story fountain inside your head, and sometimes all you need to do is prime it.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Well Versed
Mine happens to be Deuteronomy 32:2 – “Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.”
One reason I think it's the loveliest verse from the Scriptures because it speaks directly to the writer in me. The other is that it harmonizes perfectly with how I feel about sharing my work (and myself) with the world. There's rain in it, and rain has a particular personal meaning for me and my guy. I like everything about it, and I should probably embroider it on something so I can see it every day, and be reminded of all it's taught me.
You don't have to go Biblical to find verses, quotations, or other phrases that inspire you. Consider what most moves you from what you enjoy reading. If you're a romantic, you can find plenty to inspire you in romances or love poetry. If the wisdom of our forefathers is more your thing, the words of a historical figure might motivate you to make some of your own history. My mother likes to clip comics from the newspaper; my daughter harvests electronic jewels from the Tumblr blogs she follows. All any inspirational words really have to do is move you in a positive direction.
There is so much hate in the world right now that anything that inspires you to go in the opposite direction is a powerful blessing. You can spend your day wallowing in the muck being thrown at us from all directions, or you can remember a favorite verse to help you out of it. Being inspired means you're not adding to the woes of the world; you're fighting them -- and isn't that worth the battle?
What's your favorite inspirational line, phrase or verse? Share them with us in comments.
Saturday, April 09, 2016
Color Me Inspired
Now that I've gotten into the adult coloring book trend, I thought I'd try to make my finished pages into something pretty and/or useful. Inspiration came along with an order of water filters for the house, which the company packed with five and a half feet of this lovely, thick, pale orange paper:

I ironed the paper flat and cut it up into pages, and took one of my colored pages and the guide page from the Barcelona coloring book to use for the cover:
I made my cover by sewing together my colored page to the color guide page I'd printed out (backsides together on the inside):

After I sewed a signature of three pages to the cover I'd made, I had a nifty little notebook:

To make a larger version you can sew the pages between to colored and guide pages, like I did here:

I got three new notebooks out of the packing paper and my Barcelona colored pages:

Or, if you'd rather not get into any sewing or book-making, you can use your colored pages as view-binder cover inserts:

I purchased this gorgeous spider/write page from Kawanish, and used it as the cover for my writing schedule binder. What's cool about buying individual pages from Etsy artists is that they come as a download, and you can usually print out as many copies as you like for personal use.
I ironed the paper flat and cut it up into pages, and took one of my colored pages and the guide page from the Barcelona coloring book to use for the cover:
I made my cover by sewing together my colored page to the color guide page I'd printed out (backsides together on the inside):
After I sewed a signature of three pages to the cover I'd made, I had a nifty little notebook:
To make a larger version you can sew the pages between to colored and guide pages, like I did here:
I got three new notebooks out of the packing paper and my Barcelona colored pages:
Or, if you'd rather not get into any sewing or book-making, you can use your colored pages as view-binder cover inserts:
I purchased this gorgeous spider/write page from Kawanish, and used it as the cover for my writing schedule binder. What's cool about buying individual pages from Etsy artists is that they come as a download, and you can usually print out as many copies as you like for personal use.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
A Tale of Two Pincushions
Quilt show season has arrived, and I was considering attending one of the national conventions to meet up with some friends and wallow in fabric. It's always a bit dangerous for me to go to the big shows, as there's always so much I want to buy, and I really don't have the money to splurge on anything. I managed to talk myself out of it after I sorted through my fabric stash last week; I probably have enough fat quarters and yardage to circle the planet. I'm also just now getting over the last dregs of my URI and I don't want to risk being infected by some sniffly attendee who should have stayed home. So this year I'll probably just go to the county quilt show next month and let that be enough.
I have been sewing quite a lot lately, and while I was cleaning up my work table last night I noticed the state of two of my pincushions:

The little china cup pincushion on the right is one I made myself. I got the cup from a thrift store and used some scrap fabric, a handful of fiberfill and my hot glue gun to make it. It turned out so pretty I hardly ever use it. I needed some short pins for some binding, though, so I grabbed it off the shelf where it lives and impresses everyone with how organized I am (not). This pincushion really symbolizes the sewer I wish I was: elegant, tidy, and always attractively engaged.
The sugar bowl pincushion on the left is one I bought from Kathy at Strange Notions, who also made it. It's my favorite "work" pincushion that is always parked at my elbow, and it's been working overtime since it arrived at Casa PBW. The dogs knocked it over and broke off one of the handles, which I then imperfectly glued back together. It's riddled with dressing making pins, and big pins for heavy-duty work, and at least one of each type of hand-sewing needle I use. It also guards my favorite thimble. This pincushion really shows the sort of sewer I am while I work: busy, untidy, and indifferent to appearances.
I admire the "order" pincushion -- it reflects the ideals all those quilting books and shows tell me I should strive for -- but I love my "chaos" work pincushion, because like me it isn't perfect.
Organization is wonderful, but creation itself is often a messy business. Don't kick yourself if you don't work in an atmosphere of 24/7 pristine perfection. I think the key to working well is to be comfortable in your work space, which is something only you can define. If that means embracing a little chaos over order, go for it.
I have been sewing quite a lot lately, and while I was cleaning up my work table last night I noticed the state of two of my pincushions:
The little china cup pincushion on the right is one I made myself. I got the cup from a thrift store and used some scrap fabric, a handful of fiberfill and my hot glue gun to make it. It turned out so pretty I hardly ever use it. I needed some short pins for some binding, though, so I grabbed it off the shelf where it lives and impresses everyone with how organized I am (not). This pincushion really symbolizes the sewer I wish I was: elegant, tidy, and always attractively engaged.
The sugar bowl pincushion on the left is one I bought from Kathy at Strange Notions, who also made it. It's my favorite "work" pincushion that is always parked at my elbow, and it's been working overtime since it arrived at Casa PBW. The dogs knocked it over and broke off one of the handles, which I then imperfectly glued back together. It's riddled with dressing making pins, and big pins for heavy-duty work, and at least one of each type of hand-sewing needle I use. It also guards my favorite thimble. This pincushion really shows the sort of sewer I am while I work: busy, untidy, and indifferent to appearances.
I admire the "order" pincushion -- it reflects the ideals all those quilting books and shows tell me I should strive for -- but I love my "chaos" work pincushion, because like me it isn't perfect.
Organization is wonderful, but creation itself is often a messy business. Don't kick yourself if you don't work in an atmosphere of 24/7 pristine perfection. I think the key to working well is to be comfortable in your work space, which is something only you can define. If that means embracing a little chaos over order, go for it.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Bliss
I'm on a strict, sugar-free diet, but every year I allow myself a couple of treats, like a hot fudge sundae on my birthday in the summer, and one of your cranberry bliss bars while I'm out shopping for the holidays. For the bliss, I always go to the Starbucks counter at my local Target store. The kids who work there are cheerful, they never mess up my order, and they usually have one or two bliss bars left in the treats case (they're very popular with tired shoppers.)
I look forward to my cranberry bliss bar because it's one of my just-for-me holiday traditions. Also, it's delicious. I bring it home and sit on my porch while I nibble away and enjoy every bite. I also have a vanilla latte with it, as that's my favorite Starbucks drink, and the two go great together. Having this treat always gets me in the spirit of things. I don't know why; maybe it's the cranberries. I don't feel guilty for this one little indulgence every winter, either (if you don't understand why, give up sugar for seven years.)
I've always liked Starbucks. Your employees are great; I've never seen someone grumpy behind your counters. You offer delicious products, and you do it with style. There's always interesting music playing in your cafes. Every other customer I see there is working on a laptop, and I'm pretty sure at least half of them are writers. After work even my twenty-something daughter and her friends regularly hang out at one of your cafes near our house, which gives them a chance to talk and relax in a safe place. I don't understand their love of iced coffee -- not something my generation drank much of -- but hey, it's coffee (as opposed to liquor, weed, or something worse.)
I wish you'd been around when I was their age. I probably would have lived at a Starbucks.
Since this is the season to be grateful for our blessings big and small, thank you for all that you do to make the holidays brighter for your customers. Especially my cranberry bliss bar. I had it yesterday and it was wonderful, as always.
Cheers,
PBW
P.S. Love the cup design this year. Makes your logo look very festive.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
NaNoNag #2
Before I get to my second National Novel Writing Month nag I want to celebrate a little quilting finish line I just crossed:

I've been working for a few weeks now on this tote, which will be a holiday gift for the mother of a family friend who admired my needlework. When I began this project all I really had to go on was the mom's favorite color (purple), fabrics, laces and ribbons I bought from FancyCrazys, RavioleeDreams, and AbbyandEllie on Etsy, and some vague ideas on what I wanted to do.

I gave myself permission to do whatever I liked without worrying about rules, traditions, or what I've seen others do with their crazy quilting. Some of my ideas came out well and added to the experience library in my head. Others didn't translate the way I envisioned them, but that also helped me learn. I don't think I'll ever master a perfectly even herringbone stitch, or make a seed-beaded cretan stitch look like anything but an ornate zipper, but I will keep practicing and trying new approaches.

Part of being a creative person is the opportunity to learn and grow by doing. I can (and have) talk about my needlework all day long, but I'm not really a quilter until I'm actually doing it. That's why I go from one project to the next. Each day I spend a couple of hours being a quilter. It's not everything I am, but it's a big part of who I want to be.

Now change the quilting to writing, and consider yourself nagged.
I've been working for a few weeks now on this tote, which will be a holiday gift for the mother of a family friend who admired my needlework. When I began this project all I really had to go on was the mom's favorite color (purple), fabrics, laces and ribbons I bought from FancyCrazys, RavioleeDreams, and AbbyandEllie on Etsy, and some vague ideas on what I wanted to do.
I gave myself permission to do whatever I liked without worrying about rules, traditions, or what I've seen others do with their crazy quilting. Some of my ideas came out well and added to the experience library in my head. Others didn't translate the way I envisioned them, but that also helped me learn. I don't think I'll ever master a perfectly even herringbone stitch, or make a seed-beaded cretan stitch look like anything but an ornate zipper, but I will keep practicing and trying new approaches.
Part of being a creative person is the opportunity to learn and grow by doing. I can (and have) talk about my needlework all day long, but I'm not really a quilter until I'm actually doing it. That's why I go from one project to the next. Each day I spend a couple of hours being a quilter. It's not everything I am, but it's a big part of who I want to be.
Now change the quilting to writing, and consider yourself nagged.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Gated Away
While out of town last week I had the chance to spend a day in Savannah, and because I'm not crazy I carried my camera with me wherever we went. I always notice new things about my favorite American city whenever I visit, and on this trip it was all about gated spaces:

Sometimes when you see a bunch of stuff like this one little thing captivates you.

Like this little guy.

Some gated places seem to whisper of secret lives, trysts, and other things that happen once the rest of the city goes to sleep. I have a huge story brewing now just from this one pic.

Others definitely say not for you -- keep out.

My favorite spots still remain open to the public; right there for you to walk up and sit by and admire. So while I enjoying peeking over a gate now and then, I'm much more in love with where I can roam freely.
The next time you travel, take your camera with you when you're walking and snap whatever fascinates you. You never know where you might find some story.
Sometimes when you see a bunch of stuff like this one little thing captivates you.
Like this little guy.
Some gated places seem to whisper of secret lives, trysts, and other things that happen once the rest of the city goes to sleep. I have a huge story brewing now just from this one pic.
Others definitely say not for you -- keep out.
My favorite spots still remain open to the public; right there for you to walk up and sit by and admire. So while I enjoying peeking over a gate now and then, I'm much more in love with where I can roam freely.
The next time you travel, take your camera with you when you're walking and snap whatever fascinates you. You never know where you might find some story.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Color Week #5: Color Collection Notebook
For this you'll need:
a good size, sturdy three-ring binder
a three-hole punch
a package of top-loading sheet protectors
ruled notebook paper or a spiral-bound notebook with binder holes
dividers in the basic color spectrum (optional)
ziplock bags (optional)
How you set up your notebook should be what works best for you, but I generally go with dividing sections into the color spectrum first, then keep particular color combinations in a palette section, and put my notebook paper in the very back of the binder (I also use a spiral-bound notebook that I can remove from the binder and take with me for trips to the home improvement store or wherever when I'm hunting new color ideas.)
If you collect or make color charts, store them in your sheet protectors so you can reference them without having to remove them from the notebook:
For smaller items like paint chips, swatches and other bits can go inside your sheet protectors, too. Since they're cheaper than sheet protectors I like to use ziplock bags to hold the little stuff, and punch holes in the bottom of mine like so:
My ideas, word list charts, particular story placements and all the other writing-related work I do go in my spiral-bound notebook:
If you like to be super organized you can also use color dividers (the kind with pockets can also hold your little bits, too):
Your color notebook is also a great self-teaching tool. Once a week take it out and go color hunting, as I do, to find new words, shades and descriptors to add to one particular color section. Make a habit of this, and in no time you'll have a wonderful collection of colors to use whenever you're writing.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Color Week #4: Color Words
Bearded Iris. Ectoplasm. Zephyr. These are three of the lovely words Chandi at Expression Fiber Arts uses to describe the colors of her beautiful yarns. I found her site when I started watching tutorials on how spin art yarn (and she has an adorable video here on that.) I've also been rather awed by the wide range and inventive creativity of the words she uses to name her products.
For writers, describing color is both an everyday task and a perpetual challenge. Basically everything we create ends up being black (print) on white (page), so the words we choose to communicate the colors of anything contained in a story are particularly vital. We need to invoke imagery in a reader's mind as they read, and we can't do that if we never share with them what we see in ours as we write.
Employing the basic words for every color -- red, green, blue, yellow, orange, black, white, brown, purple -- are the easiest way to communicate what you want someone to see in a story. Sometimes that may be all you need, too: A red roof. A green door. A purple crayon. But if you use only basic color words, you'll end up with a story that reads like a pile of LEGO blocks looks.
The other end of the color word writing spectrum is using color words that are so elaborate or obscure that they colorblind the reader. I was reading a story last week in which the author described a color using only the word hopniss. I had no idea what that was, so I not only had to look up what the word meant, I then had to go search for an image of it before I saw the color. I don't mind doing this once, as there is no way in the world I can know what every plant on the planet looks like. If I have to do it ten times before I read the end of the first chapter, however, I'm probably not going to read the rest of the book.
So how do you avoid using color words that are too simple or too obscure to keep the reader engaged? One way is to exercise and beef up your own color vocabulary by creating charts and word lists. Haul out your basic color words, and begin collecting paint chips, fabric swatches and other visual samples for one of the words. Pay attention to how others name them as inspiration, and then begin a list with your own descriptors. Keep in mind terms that are universal enough for others to imagine. While not everyone knows what hopniss is, I'll bet nearly every reader you reach will recognize something you describe as the color of elephant hide, a fresh bruise, or a sunset cloud.
Tomorrow we'll wrap up color week by putting together a color notebook in which you can keep your charts, word lists and color ideas for future reference. In the meantime, what's the most interesting color description you've ever encountered? Let us know in comments.
Images credit: oksixx
Employing the basic words for every color -- red, green, blue, yellow, orange, black, white, brown, purple -- are the easiest way to communicate what you want someone to see in a story. Sometimes that may be all you need, too: A red roof. A green door. A purple crayon. But if you use only basic color words, you'll end up with a story that reads like a pile of LEGO blocks looks.
The other end of the color word writing spectrum is using color words that are so elaborate or obscure that they colorblind the reader. I was reading a story last week in which the author described a color using only the word hopniss. I had no idea what that was, so I not only had to look up what the word meant, I then had to go search for an image of it before I saw the color. I don't mind doing this once, as there is no way in the world I can know what every plant on the planet looks like. If I have to do it ten times before I read the end of the first chapter, however, I'm probably not going to read the rest of the book.
Tomorrow we'll wrap up color week by putting together a color notebook in which you can keep your charts, word lists and color ideas for future reference. In the meantime, what's the most interesting color description you've ever encountered? Let us know in comments.
Images credit: oksixx
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Color Week #3: Character Color Tags
Why? Well, it's not because I'm green with envy, or greedy for the cash variety of green, or even ready-to-puke green. Green has always been a color symbol of creation to me. As colors go it's fresh, cool, and soothing. It's always growing. That's what I want to be -- and to remind myself to be -- so I embraced being a green.
I assign color tags to characters in the same way. Most of the time I use character palettes, but I've assigned single color tags to many of my characters, too. Cherijo from the StarDoc books was always a silver from the minute she popped up on the page. For me character colors can change, too -- Alexandra from the Darkyn novels began as angry scarlet and changed to lavender when she became an immortal and got tangled up with Michael, who I'd tagged as a lovely sky blue (which was also the reason I chose that scent for her.) Some character colors are so strong in my head I doubt they will ever change (for reasons that will ruin some books I haven't yet written, Dredmore from the Disenchanted & Co. series will forever be a gray to me. Since that color is now associated with all things naughty it also annoys me immensely, but I can't change it.)
Using color association with your characters is another of those creative things you can do to enhance them. You don't have to use a single color, or resort to a huge palette, either. Make a list of your character names, and beside them write the first color(s) you think of when they're in your thoughts. This can be something you draw from their physical description (Cherijo being a silver came from the sheen of her hair) or something you associate with them (Jessa Bellamy from the Kindred novels was a sapphire blue thanks to the original paint on the house she grew up in.) If you have nothing you associate with the character that gives you a color tag for them, pick a random color.
Once you have your color tag list, you have some visual mojo to work with in developing your character. Let's say your female protagonist is a pink: a bright, bubblegum shade of pink. Okay, not my favorite color, but I'm working on rehabbing my negative attitude toward pink. Meanwhile, you're already forming your own opinions about this gal based on that color tag, right? Is she girly, childish, pretty, naive, shy? Or is she hot, sexy, daring, electric? Pink is the symbolic color of hope for the victims of breast cancer, so it has a more thoughtful/wishful association, too. Pink can be a power color as well -- if you're wondering how a pink-tagged protagonist can be kick-ass, you should read Karen Marie Moning's MacKayla Lane novels. That chick is ferociously pink.
If the first tag you choose for your character doesn't inspire you, trash it and pick another color based on why the first color didn't work. Let's say your protagonist doesn't feel like a pink because she's dark-mooded and has a mean streak. So what is the color of dark/moody/mean? For me it's the purple-red of a fresh bruise, but your association will probably be different.
Choosing color tags for your characters won't solve all your development issues, but it can help you think in different directions as you build your story people. Too often writers construct their characterizations based solely on appearance, which while convenient is really lazy writing. Try tagging your crew, and see what assigning colors can do to inspire how you bring them to life on the page.
Image credit: Audrey_Kuzmin
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Color Week #2: Color Mood
Sorry I'm late posting this morning; I misplaced my camera, and I wanted to take some pics to go with this post, starting with this one:

I put the final hand stitch in my tropical-themed quilt last night, and once I bind it it'll be ready to use. Working on this quilt reminded me of so many things that surrounded me as a kid in the tropics: the red hibiscus growing outside our house, all the birds who come to south Florida for the winter, the beauty of the ocean, the year-round green everywhere. A few times I could almost smell sun tan lotion and hear the endless rush-crash of the waves on the beach.
These are the colors of my childhood, and if you asked me to name them based on those memories then I'd call them jungle green, mango orange, hibiscus scarlet, and sunlit Atlantic blue.
For contrast, here are two sides of a crazy quilt tote I made, which was the first thing I sewed after my eye surgery last year:

Not quite as joyful as the quilt, right? That's because at the time I was coming out of a long and dark period of absolute dread. These colors, these blues and purples and grays, all reflect how I felt during my recovery. Relief, peace, some lingering fear over the healing process. Darker feelings about what was for me the indescribable experience of being conscious (and helpless) while my surgeon cut into my eye with a scalpel. A different kind of joy at being able to see clearly again. Definitely somber, but not depressed -- recovering. For me these are the colors of hope and dreams.
Although psychologists would have it otherwise, I don't think the moods colors bring out in us are all universal. Our personal associations influence how we feel when we see a color, or a combination of colors, and the same should be true of our characters. If you haven't given this a lot of thought, consider your favorite color, and ask yourself some questions about it: why is it your favorite? What do you think of the moment you see it? How do you work it into your life? Is it on your walls, in your wardrobe? Once you've analyzed your favorite, do the same with a color you hate. All of these things you discover about your color moods can be then worked into your characters, your story elements, your settings -- and they don't have to reflect your own feelings (in fact, it's better for your writing range if they don't.)
You don't have to mention color moods in your story directly, either. Just as colors affect you, working them into a story will do the same for the work and the reader. A character who dresses in dull colors or paints her bedroom gray isn't a happy kid from the tropics, obviously. A guy who wears a loud yellow tie -- what I think of as a wardrobe exclamation point -- obviously wants attention. The adult antagonist who sleeps in a candy-pink room filled with toys (that he keeps locked at all times) has some serious, creepy issues.
Now it's your turn: What's your favorite color, and what is the first thing you think of whenever you see it?
I put the final hand stitch in my tropical-themed quilt last night, and once I bind it it'll be ready to use. Working on this quilt reminded me of so many things that surrounded me as a kid in the tropics: the red hibiscus growing outside our house, all the birds who come to south Florida for the winter, the beauty of the ocean, the year-round green everywhere. A few times I could almost smell sun tan lotion and hear the endless rush-crash of the waves on the beach.
These are the colors of my childhood, and if you asked me to name them based on those memories then I'd call them jungle green, mango orange, hibiscus scarlet, and sunlit Atlantic blue.
For contrast, here are two sides of a crazy quilt tote I made, which was the first thing I sewed after my eye surgery last year:
Not quite as joyful as the quilt, right? That's because at the time I was coming out of a long and dark period of absolute dread. These colors, these blues and purples and grays, all reflect how I felt during my recovery. Relief, peace, some lingering fear over the healing process. Darker feelings about what was for me the indescribable experience of being conscious (and helpless) while my surgeon cut into my eye with a scalpel. A different kind of joy at being able to see clearly again. Definitely somber, but not depressed -- recovering. For me these are the colors of hope and dreams.
Although psychologists would have it otherwise, I don't think the moods colors bring out in us are all universal. Our personal associations influence how we feel when we see a color, or a combination of colors, and the same should be true of our characters. If you haven't given this a lot of thought, consider your favorite color, and ask yourself some questions about it: why is it your favorite? What do you think of the moment you see it? How do you work it into your life? Is it on your walls, in your wardrobe? Once you've analyzed your favorite, do the same with a color you hate. All of these things you discover about your color moods can be then worked into your characters, your story elements, your settings -- and they don't have to reflect your own feelings (in fact, it's better for your writing range if they don't.)
You don't have to mention color moods in your story directly, either. Just as colors affect you, working them into a story will do the same for the work and the reader. A character who dresses in dull colors or paints her bedroom gray isn't a happy kid from the tropics, obviously. A guy who wears a loud yellow tie -- what I think of as a wardrobe exclamation point -- obviously wants attention. The adult antagonist who sleeps in a candy-pink room filled with toys (that he keeps locked at all times) has some serious, creepy issues.
Now it's your turn: What's your favorite color, and what is the first thing you think of whenever you see it?
Monday, September 14, 2015
Color Week #1: Collections
Collecting colors in some fashion can help you improve your own descriptions when you're writing. Paint manufacturers invent some terrific names for their products that invoke a sensory connection to the shade, i.e. Brookside, Mint Sprig, Cabin Plank. You can almost hear the rushing water, taste the cool sharpness, feel the weathered wood of those colors -- not something that may happen when you default to the standard blue, green or brown. I find that when I study colors with inventive names I become more creative with describing them myself, too.
I think exploring color wakes up more of your storytelling side. I've talked about creating palettes for characters and stories, but I also use them for working out and enhancing my settings, and even creating a particular mood in a scene or a chapter. Learning more about color psychology can help you understand how assigning a particular color or palette to a story element can affect the element, but I think once you start working with color and storytelling this tends to evolve naturally as well.
This week I'll be showing you various ways to think about color, use it to inspire your creativity, and incorporate more of it in your writing. I'm also putting together a color collection notebook to help anyone create, find and save color combinations for future reference, so stop in when you have a chance.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
You Animal You
My daughter loves animals, and during a recent vacation trip with her dad took some amazing pics of the critters she saw. Since I have three jobs to finish this weekend before this tropical storm hits us, I'm going to post some in lieu of a post:

I wonder if he thinks no one can see him.

Gorgeous. And maybe a little cranky.

This big guy looks sad -- and dreamy, too, in a strange way. Maybe it's the pink on his hide and the soft focus.

My writing animal!

Someone needs a baby carrier.
I wonder if he thinks no one can see him.
Gorgeous. And maybe a little cranky.
This big guy looks sad -- and dreamy, too, in a strange way. Maybe it's the pink on his hide and the soft focus.
My writing animal!
Someone needs a baby carrier.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)