Alternative methods of writing

I remember being excited when I got my first smartphone two years ago. My father insisted on getting it for me as a Christmas gift, convinced I would use it all the time. I had been avoiding it, for the same reason. But who is going to turn down a free smartphone?

I stupidly paid $10 for an app that would work as a word processor and PDF reader. Sure, I have used it on occasion, but it wasn't really good for writing.

I tried going online to work on articles, but most of the sites didnt support mobile creation. Every once in a while, I could get a post to work on Blogger. I found, however, that I had to keep them short, or else I would lose sight of what I was typing.

This past seek, I discovered the Blogger app in the Google Play Store, so I downloaded it to my Droid. I am actually using it right known to craft this post.

See, I carry my laptop back and forth with me to my teaching job. I don't like for the kids to use it, but I use it every day. I have music for the classroom on my Pinterest page. I check my school email on it (only during school hours). I even sometimes take a few minutes during breaks to do other stuff, whether online or jotting ideas or lines in all of those WIPs.

The risk of doing so, however, is forgetting the cord at work. In always manage to do this when I have a ton of posts due the next day and am already behind. So, guess what I did tonight?

It got me to thinking again about how much we trust our technology. Any stories that I have on there cannot be edited right now. I do have the newer ones saved to an online storage area, but that is still tough to navigate from my phone. I lost a couple of great works when my previous laptop bit the big one last November.

I started thinking about my beloved notebooks, which have story ideas, outlines, and even occasional rough drafts in them. I have some reading to do this evening, but I can still play with the notebooks to feel productive in my writing. I do love that connection of hand to pen to paper.

So, let me ask: What would you do if you suddenly had no computer on which you could write?

"Uh oh!"

Kids are the best critics when it comes to their books. Many times we adults pick apart a book, criticizing it for one reason or another. I remember getting a set of books to review that made me want to poke my eyes out every time I looked at them. But, the kids loved them. Isn't that what is most important?

I highly value the opinions of children. So, today I decided to take the first part of my children's book to one of my most critical groups: my students.

I teach ages 3-6. We often read chapter books in the afternoon, as the older children stay with me full day. I have read many a review book to them and they are always honest about their opinions.

I quietly walked around the room, whispering, "I have a new story to share." That way, only those that wanted to hear it would come over. They could stay working at their individual activities if they chose.

A small group of about 10 assembled. I opened up the notebook to start reading.

"Wait, that's not a real book!"

I ignored the comment and got started. Two children walked away during the introduction.

Okay, I knew it was a little wordy. I was thinking it should be shortened, or it could be a separate introductory book on its own.

Then, I got into the part that was primarily written last night. They got really into it. When I got to the stopping point, they exclaimed, "Uh oh!" They then started to have a discussion about all of the possibilities about the trouble in which the puppies had found themselves. And they demanded chapter 2. When I told them it wasn't yet written, they told me I had better get working on it.

Even one of the kids who had walked away told me that she was still listening while she did her work. She liked the story and wanted it to continue.

I took that as a good sign...

"You looked deep in thought..."

They always say that if you want to be a writer, you have to write every day. I usually do some form of writing on a daily basis, but not for my own books. Since the muse exploded over the weekend, I have been trying extra hard to work on something every day.

Tuesday nights were Taco Nights at the bar down the street, at least until last week. They are currently on hiatus, because of the smaller crowds. I went down, anyway, hoping to enjoy a nice hot bowl of soup on this insidiously cold night. (Windchill -7, what?)

I enjoy my meal while reading some chapters in a review book on my Kindle. I chat with my server, who has become a friend over these last few months. And then, I decide I am going to write. 

I have this thing about writing longhand. There is magic when that pen actually touches the paper, that is different from typing directly on the computer. Perhaps some day I will again outgrow that. For now, I am enjoying filling the pages of notebooks with my multicolored ink pens.

Tonight's WIP was a children's story that is based on my dogs. I have played around with the idea before, but tonight was the first time that their characters were really coming through.

In between paragraphs, I would stare at the TVs, absorbing bits of sports trivia, while thoughtfully chewing on my pen about the next part of the story. I was in a groove. And then I realized that the man standing under the TVs was actually talking to me.

"Are you writing poetry?"

Ah yes, how cliche. The lone girl chewing on her pen while writing in her notebook must be writing poetry.

"No, actually, I'm not."

"Oh, homework, then?" [I am 35, yet am regularly mistaken for a college student. I'll take it.]

"No, I'm working on some fiction and nonfiction books."

"Wow, really?"

The subsequent conversation consisted of the usual go-arounds that hint at uncovering my marital status. My favorite question is always, "Why aren't you married?"

That, in and of itself, could fill a few books, I am sure. I just always say that I have come close, but it hasn't been quite right, yet.

"I'm really surprised. You're beautiful."

Aw, shucks. Thanks.

At this point, the gentleman decides that he is going to get back to work in the kitchen. As he turns to leave, he says, "You looked deep in thought. That's why I had to come over and mess with you."

Thank you so much. I have now lost my train of thought. The puppies had just hit their dilemma and will have to saved at a later date. That's okay. It's about time for me to get home and unwind, anyway. And I can forgive you because you were trying to butter me up by telling me I was beautiful.

The train of thought never returned to the station, so now the story is stuck where it is. Ah well. I also came up with ideas for a couple more later installments. We shall see where I can get interrupted next...

Welcome!

Okay, my muse for writing has finally kicked into overdrive. It is time for a blog dedicated to my books. None of them are published. None of them are even done. But the ideas are there and slowly being fleshed out. Join me on this journey as I seek to finally be published and to finally achieve my dreams.