Writing a book is like planting a garden - a guest blog by Mary Carter, author of "My Sister's Voice"

Today, I'm excited to host a guest blog by Mary Carter, author of "My Sister's Voice."

WRITING A BOOK IS LIKE PLANTING A GARDEN
By Mary Carter


It’s Spring, a perfect time for gardens and books. I live in an apartment in New York City so I don’t have a garden to tend to, although I keep meaning to start a mini fire-escape garden.

Writing a book is like planting a garden. The idea starts as a little seed, but planting it is not enough. It has to be watered, weeded, and pruned before it blooms. A first draft is messy, the second draft is for weeding out the bits that don’t work. You can get your hands dirty, or you can wear gloves. It may seem daunting at first, but then you remember-- you have a number of tools at your disposal.

Some people plan out their gardens in great detail, sketching the area, plotting where each flower, or vegetable will go. Others may take a handful of seeds and sprinkle them with wild abandon. Some writers will draft meticulous outlines, others will simply throw an idea up in the air and see where it lands.

There is no right or wrong way, it’s whatever keeps you coming back. Seeing your work in print is a lot like sitting back and marveling at your beautiful flowers, or picking the vegetables you grew yourself. Both are organic, one comes from the ground, the other comes from within you.

They both come with pitfalls, just like a rabbit can sneak in and nibble on your carrots, self-doubt can creep in and eat away at your novel. Surprises are another thing they have in common. You may go out to your garden one day and see a tiny purple flower that you didn’t plant, or a patch of wild strawberries growing. Unexpected discoveries are a source of joy.

While writing a novel, little tidbits pop up that you didn’t expect. The plot suddenly thickens, or a character’s motivation comes to light because of something you learn about their background. And just like books are meant to be read, gardens are meant to be harvested. Pick some of the flowers, put them in a jar and enjoy them indoors as well. Make a salad with the tomatoes you grew yourself, add some herbs growing on your windowsill to a new recipe.

Keeping a garden is a lot of work, but the rewards are well worth it. The beauty you’ve created is not only there for you, but others can enjoy it as well. It’s a great way to spend a day, or a life. Every morning promises something new.

And it’s never too late. If your garden has been abandoned or the weeds have taken over, it’s okay, you can start again. Or, if you’d rather, stroll the neighborhood, or a bookstore, and enjoy other people’s gardens. Just don’t pick their flowers, unless they tell you it’s okay.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

MARY CARTER is a freelance writer and novelist. She is a graduate of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and the National Technical Institute for the Deaf, which is part of the Rochester Institute of Technology.

"My Sister’s Voice" is her fourth novel with Kensington. Her other works include: "She’ll Take It," "Accidentally Engaged," "Sunnyside Blues," and "The Honeymoon House" in the best selling anthology "Almost Home."

She has just completed "A Very Maui Christmas," a new novella for Kensington that will be included in a Christmas of 2010 anthology. She is currently working on a new novel, "The Pub Across the Pond," about an American woman who swears off all Irish men only to learn she’s won a pub in Ireland. Readers are welcome to visit her at www.marycarterbooks.com


Thank you so much to Mary Carter for her lovely guest post. And thank you to Dorothy Thompson at Pump Up Your Book Promotion for this Book Blog Tour visit. Be sure to come back by on May 19th when I'll have a review of Mary's book, "My Sister's Voice."

pages gadget?

Sorry I've haven't been posting lately. After my big push to get my website up I found myself avoiding being on the computer anymore than absolutely necessary. Consequently my blog has fallen behind. However now that I'm feeling a bit more energy for blogging again.

Not to make a commercial for blogger out of this post but I'm quite excited about the new "pages" gadget. I've wanted to add other pages for a year now. Holy Crap! It's about time blogger added this option! I was even toying with switching over to wordpress. Now I'm sticking with blogger. The trick now is to figure out what pages I thought I wanted to add all those months ago. lol!

So far I've added an "Available Herps" page. I don't have much on there but I had to do something with the new gadget. lol.

Caio

OMG

I did it!!
I actually wrote (on my writing project) yesterday! Woo Hoo. Let's see if I can do it again today.
As soon as I publish this post I plan to stay on the computer and write--Not surf the web! I've got 1 whole hour to write.

Wow...two whole days in row. lol.
What a track record. :)

Avoidance

I've been trying to work on some writing projects. However, it turns out that some part of my mind tells me that doing chores is more important than the writing. So I end up not writing at all. It's kinda sad that I have to fight with myself to do something that could be fun. That awful chattering mind voice has got to be ignored.
Today I will write!

Words Inside are Dancing

Like I've said in the past. Sometimes I just have to grab pen and paper and it's as if someone else is writing... This came so fast this morning, I had to grab a pen and the back of whatever was in front of me and jot it down... Talk about Random!!! :-D Whew!....

Oh well... I share it here anyway....

Words Inside are Dancing

Words fly across the page; Dark lines dancing by

First a funny jig; Then mixed in with a waltz

Words come in my mind; As music from the soul

Words are painting pictures; Though I can not draw

The paper fills up quickly; As the words keep dancing by

The music is internal; Illuminating from Light and Love

The image that I’m painting; Comes flooding in like thunder

Yet the flow is rapid; The music can’t be stopped

Spring, Summer, Fall; Give way to Winters cold

Yet every season too must come; To be a part of life

Today my thoughts are abstract; Yet to someone may make sense

I can not stop the flow; Of this almighty pen

So dance your inner dance; And feel your song inside

Your music’s just beginning; the tune is yours unique

Paint your life so full; With things that fill your soul

Go look outside and see; All the glories that there are

Then paint your song; And sing your pen and dance your inner dance

It’s love and Light that guide me; From thought to ink to paper

And then into your life I send; These words in random order

This must be my Picasso; Abstract in thought I paint;

I sing this song on paper; With ink and pen create;

These words inside are a dancing

Written with Love and Light,
By Nina P. 6/22/09

Since this poem is so random and abstract... I'm sending out a random heart!! I found it on line in the local newspaper section of photo's. I can't find it again to give proper credit :-(

Either way, the photographer caught an amazing "wild" heart....

I found the pgotographer!!! cheychey37 can be found @ http://rochesterhomepage.net/mymedia/view.php?id=2321

Speak for yourself

"When your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt."
~Henry J Kaiser

This is an interesting quote. As an artist I tend to agree with it. An old professor of mine used to say "You will not be standing next to your work explaining what you meant. Your art has to speak for it's self." Well prof. I have found art (any form) speaks different languages to different people. That can be frustrating or fun, and it's unavoidable.

What I do find a bit disturbing is that it is quite difficult to find good quotes by notable woman.

Speaking of which...
Last night I had a great start for a short story script. It was midnight and I was falling into blissful sleep not wanting to get up and write it down. The words came like poetry. I knew it would be gone in the morning...and it was. However, something is brewing inside of me and will eventually see the light of day. Hopefully sooner than later.

Change

"There is nothing like returning to a place
that remains unchanged to find the ways
in which you yourself have altered."
~Nelson Mandela

My calendar had this quote on it for Monday but I find it a fitting end to the week. I have changed so much in my life that sometimes I don't even recognize myself. lol. I look into the mirror and say "Who is that!"

For example: There was a time when I wanted to go to all the Dunkin Donuts bakeries. I kid you not. Loved those Donuts! While I still like the occasional doughnut. Don't think I've had one (or wanted one) in at least 4 years. My waistline thanks me...though not enough.

Are you bigger than a bug?

Check out this doosey I found last night.

"If you think you are too small to be effective,
you have never been in bed with a mosquito."

~Betty Reese

HA! Now that's a good one.

100th post!

Holy Smackers batman it's my 100th post! I think it's time to celebrate...
break out the bubbly.

My kitties are not impressed. With the onset of the cold weather, they just want to eat, sleep and whine in the middle of the night.

That's "Joe" the butler and "Melchizedek" the maverick on the right. They moved with us from Colorado. Genetically they come from Colorado stock...that means they are big! 90% of Wisconsin cats are so small in comparison. My big cranky boys.

The Uber Amazing Blog Award!

Another honor! Thank you Fairy Jane at http://seefairies.blogspot.com for bestowing the Uber Amazing Blog award on me. I'm so happy that people actually read my blog and it's not just going into a cyber blackhole! :)


*********

"How is the award determined? The rules are as follows:

The award is presented to blogs that- 1. Inspire you 2. Make you smile and laugh 3. Or maybe give amazing information 4. Are a great read 5. Have an amazing design 6. Or any other reasons you can think of that make them uber amazing!

If you receive this award: 1. Please put the logo on your blog or post. 2. Nominate at least 5 blogs that you feel are Uber Amazing! 3. Let them know that they have received this Uber Amazing award by commenting on their blog. 4. Share the love and link to this post and to the person you received your award from."
*************

I'm sending it on to these lovely folks:
http://twentypoundtabby.blogspot.com (love the colors and patterns (and kitties) she does and has)
http://mea-culpa-aromatherapycreations.blogspot.com (everything always looks so yummy)
http://delightfuldivasinbusiness.blogspot.com (for their work inspiring independent business women)
http://michelleperkett.blogspot.com/ (just love her fairies)
http://pinchmetoseeifyouaredreaming.blogspot.com (her journal pages are so awesome...and she likes Pippi Longstockings)

"ABOUT ME"

Background: Vincent Bueno's photos from vincentbueno.com,

digitalpinoy.org and his MySpace.com page

Social networking on the Internet has gained wide spread popularity not only among the younger set but the senior citizens as well.

I, myself, signed up for membership in a couple of social networking sites and really found it quite fun.

There is a portion in the My Profile’s page of a member’s account that tells about some important information and characteristics of the member. That is the About Me portion. And the information are entered by the member himself.

My particular self-description entered on that aforementioned portion is as follows:

“I believe I belong to the creative arts. I love music, I compose verses, and I sketch a little. Too, I have a penchant for writing. I am maverick, outspoken, and too good to be true. I cannot sing and dance the way others do, but I love to listen to their songs and to watch them dance. I have not outgrown my love for music.

“I consider VINCENT BUENO my rescuer… my hero! My extraordinary fondness for him and love for his passionate singing and graceful dancing as well as the pride in myself that I automatically gained (being a Filipino) upon the world's recognition of his great talents, liberated me from the fears and anxieties that had possessed and enslaved me for decades. Vincent Bueno is God’s instrument in setting me free!

“Excerpts from my neuro-psychiatric test result: ‘Possessing an above-normal I.Q., combined with a talent to communicate and express his sentiments, subject can possibly adopt to almost any situation. Patience, optimism, sociability—these are his tools to his success in life…’”

I am posting this simple article purposely to emphasize the very important role Vincent Bueno has played in my life. For I owe him a debt of gratitude.

I know even Vincent Bueno himself would be puzzled by this declaration. Hopefully, in some future blog entries, I’ll be able to further expound on this topic. And they are coming.

Friday drama

~
Whew! and TGIF!
My computer's mother board is still on order. Really, really hope it gets here soon!
My blog will be much more picturesque when I can post images again. :)
I have to say that it did turn into a beautiful day here in Madison. Got some great pics of "weeds" to practice watercolors on. Yes, weeds in watercolor are beautiful....well at least if you are a good with watercolor. They might not look good for me. lol.

Finally some good news...I picked up a freelance website job. That money is already earmarked to go into my "new DSLR camera fund". I'm really hoping to have it before the holiday season. Been waiting long time for that one.

Cheers!
~

When I despair...

~
When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall.
Think of it...always.

~Mahatma Ghandi
~

Miss Mary Mack (revised)

Miss Mary Mack all dressed in black
With silver buttons all down her back
She asked her mama for fifty cents
To see the lizards leap over the fence
They leaped so high
They touched the sky
Grew dragon wings and learned to fly
They flew so far
They reached a distant star
They settled there
Grew wise and strong
Spoke Dragonspeak
Sang Dragonsong
Danced in the sky and played with fire
Felt dragon love and warm desire
No need for greed or fear or guilt
Their paradise was dragon built
and yet...

Some miss their place of birth
And they try to journey back to Earth
They find the way
Still very far and Earth beholds
A falling star
But Mary knows and so do I
Where dragons go after falling from the sky.

-Pellegraina (further adapted by Tashai)

Title: Sky Dragons
Medium: Digital Painting
Full Size: 8" x 20"

The Edge

~
Let me guess.
You met a medieval man who told you that the world was flat.
Being a cynic, you wanted to prove him wrong.
So, you set off to circumnavigate the world.
Sadly, you once looked back the way you had come.
Just at that time "the edge" appeared and you promptly fell off.
~
The Edge by Tashai

AN UNTOLD STORY OF HEROISM

Nature has replaced the vast gravel and sand area with hectares of fertile land.

My mother was a laundrywoman. For that obvious reason, a big portion of my childhood was spent in the river—with my mother. Every time she washed clothes, I would bring her food for lunch and when she was done, I would fetch her to carry her stuff. That is also the reason why, although not expertly, I know how to swim. Almost everyday, my childhood friends and I would take a bath as our mothers washed clothes.

After I finished grade school, I stopped studying. Ours is a poor, big family and poverty had denied me access to any high school's gate. But I was a very studious child and really wanted to study such that when I stopped studying, there was not a single day that I did not cry.

After I had grown tired of crying, and since no miracle happened, my young mind resigned to the harsh reality that not all children are destined to go to high school. So, instead of wallowing in self-pity, I decided to find some odd jobs to earn money so I could make things happen.

Hoping I could save enough money for my tuition fee come another school year, I engaged myself in various economic activities. While most of my childhood friends in the neighborhood attended high school, I carried sacks of rice husk for use as fuel from the rice mill to a nearby store that made puto (rice cake). I manually filled our neighbor's water tank using a device that I alternately pulled and pushed. I also sold ice drop, sweepstakes tickets, and boiled corn. But of all the money-making activities I engaged myself in, I devoted much time selling cigarettes in moving passenger buses. I was actually a working child until I reached 14 years old.

Compared to other children of my age, I was taller and bigger in build. During that time, I was standing 5'6" or 5'7" already. So, I could easily jump from passenger buses as they slowed down. As I sold cigarettes, I would reach as far as Cabanatuan City in the north and Baliuag in Bulacan in the south.

But since my mother was washing clothes in the river, I still frequented that place bringing her food for lunch and fetching her in the afternoon.

One summer's day, after I had brought mother her food for lunch, I took a bath somewhere at the northern part of the river not too far from where my mother was washing clothes. I liked it there because the water was deep. I knew how to swim, anyway.

As I was taking a bath, I noticed two hands waving at me. I found out that they belonged to a young lady in her teens and who was gasping for breath as her head gradually submerged in the water. Seeing she was drowning, I immediately swam towards her and rescued her. I did not know how long she had been drowning but she looked tired and somewhat shocked.

After taking a brief rest, the young lady told me she was brought there by the strong current that headed towards a far deeper portion of the river. She thanked me before she went back to her companions who were not too far from my location and who had no knowledge of what had happened. She was very grateful to me and although I failed to ask what her name was, I was able to remember her face vividly.

Since that incident seemed but a trivial matter to me, I easily forgot it. And although I had mentioned it to my mother and some few friends, it passed naturally like an ordinary incident.

Meanwhile, even if I had enjoyed selling cigarettes and temporarily forgotten my big frustration, as the new school year was about to come, and after being away from school for almost two years, my ardent desire to pursue my studies started to show again. Since I was able to save enough money for my tuition fee, I took the entrance examination at the Nueva Ecija South High School. Fortunately, being one of the Top 10, I was chosen one of the ten recipients of the Senator Antonino scholarship that gave me the opportunity to study for free.

Having been away from school for two years, I needed quite a great adjustment. I developed inferiority complex and was ashamed with my former classmates in grade school whenever I met them on the way. They were already junior students then while I was just a freshman.

But it was good, Nerie Pangilinan whom I fondly called Ine, my childhood friend who, like me, also stopped studying, was always with me. At least, I was not alone.

One vacant period, as Ine and I were walking inside the school campus heading towards the Old Building, we came across her elder sister, Linda, who was with her classmate. Linda's classmate's eyes and mine met. And she smiled at me. She asked Linda if she knew me. Linda looked at me and answered, "Ah, yes, he's our neighbor." Linda's classmate continued, "He was the guy who rescued me when I got drowned in the river."

"Oh, yes! She was that young lady!" I whispered to myself. I could still remember her face. And I smiled at her, too.

Linda introduced her to me. Her name was "Nilda", from San Lorenzo, a barrio adjacent to ours.

"You're studying here, too?" I asked Nilda. She nodded.

Four decades had passed since that incident and one free day while on vacation leave from work, I made a nostalgic visit to the place. Although the river is still there, that once vast gravel and sand area was a sight no more. Nature has replaced it with hectares of fertile land planted with onions and other vegetables. The water is now just some few meters wide and only almost knee-deep. There is no trace it was once big and deep and capable to claim lives.

I do not know where Nilda is today. But I love to remember her not only because she valued the good thing I had done for her; not only because for quite some time, she had not forgotten me; but most importantly because she helped increase my self-esteem and gave myself by way of that incident an intangible medal for an act of heroism.

The river in its present geographical form may not support this personal account and those who hear or read my story may even dismiss it as false and a hoax. But that once young lady will always be an unfading indelible mark and proof that I have contributed something good in this world and that no one can ever distort or erase it because it has become an integral part of her own life story. For if ever someone succeeds in distorting the truth and erasing this act of heroism, the story of one's life will never be complete.

ON BLOGGING

So, this is how it is to have a blog. Unlike a personal offline diary that is kept secret, it is publicly announced online. Readers from around the world are even invited to view it to see what the blogger has in store for them.

I'd like to thank those who read what I have written especially those who gave very encouraging comments.

That was actually my very first attempt to write a blog. The word "blog" was new to me. In fact, it was only last month when I came across that word and knew of its meaning—thanks to the kind help of Ms. Didi Manapat-Ignacio, a former classmate with a very brilliant mind, now a top official in the National Statistical Coordination Board and a former consultant of the Asian Development Bank; Joel Lumen, a U.S.-based friend and a blogger himself who unselfishly shared what he knew about blogging and who even took the time and trouble to make some researches just to satisfy some of my queries; and, of course, the author of Gabby's Dictionary, Lou Gaboy who, I believe, has the IQ of a genius. Gaboy's online dictionary, a very useful and essential tool in writing, has become something I can't do without.

I really thought one article would be enough for my blog. It did not occur to me that some readers might be asking for my next article. I soon realized that blogging is not just whimsical writing but a sort of a commitment to some readers and to those who expect to read more from me.

The truth is, so many things are stuck in my head and are potential topics for a blog. But I am aware of blogging consequences. I have to be very careful lest I end up raising the hackles of some people who may not like what I will post.

I have a very traumatic past and can write so many articles out of that. And I'm pretty sure some readers would be interested to read them—if only because there are some good things to learn from them. But my experiences involved many people including those in authority who might not like what I might write. It is really very important to be careful about writing so as to avoid ending up having enemies.

But how often do I really have to post an article? Is it monthly, semimonthly, weekly, or daily? As I please?

At any rate, blogging will help me utilize my precious time a lot more wisely. And, honestly, I find blogging a healthy activity especially for those who need a vent for their pent-up emotions.

Thanks again, friends, for reading my blog. I hope to write more articles regularly. Take care and God bless!

Men in Black (and white)

Who are these weird group of men all dressed in black shorts and white polos?
Who ride up on bicycles only to abandon them and walk off separably.
Never speaking.

They wonder around the park,
stopping here and there as if in thought;
Those execs who lost their suits.
Finally to gather around an empty picnic table.

Ah! A white van with out-of-state license plates pulls up.
Out come the coolers and food.

A short time later in twos and threes they ride off...
coasting downhill.

by Tashai