TBR – How the hell did that happen?

This morning I finished adding all the books from my little library to Goodreads*.
I knew my TBR pile was pretty high but I wasn’t expecting the final number to be 358.

358!

How the hell did that happen?

Like an overzealous squirrel I’ve been stocking up for the last couple of years and not realising the full extent of the damage. One part of the problem is that where I live there are discount bookshops, charity shops, a huge second-hand bookshop, not to mention an awesome children’s bookshop right there outside my door.

There is no point in me saying I won’t buy anymore until these are cleared because that would never happen. But I am making a rule, for every book I buy from now on – I have to read two. Let’s see if that helps.

Anyone else have a growing TBR mountain?
How do you plan to tackle it?

You can see how that works out here I’ve added a progress bar.

*not including the ones still boxed up in the loft.
There’s still 5 storage boxes, 4 banana crates and most of my Manga collection hiding up there.

Window in the Wall

My writer’s block is still there :( it seems to have moved in and build its own loft extension… I threw in the towel (as they say) about 3 weeks ago when, after 4 months, nothing had worked/changed.

At that point I needed to do something, so I came up with 2 solutions:

1) *drumroll*

Luna’s Little Library

CLICKCLICKCLICK HERE!!!

I have started my own book blog. Reading other people’s work is learning and when reviewing them I am still doing some form of creative writing.

2) I kicked the new-improved-PLANNER-me out the door.

In the run-up to Nanowrimo last year I started PLANNING, it was new, it was different and it worked. Elated by this new concept I figured I’d finally found a way to make this writing business really work and yet, since the end of Nanowrimo it’s gone downhill.

Why? I have no idea. It might be me trying to be a PLANNER but it could anything. What did happen once I shoved PLANNERme out the door was two days of manic writing of a story that had no real beginning, middle or ending.  It was a brief recess with no idea of if I’ll ever continue with it but it was a start.

So for now PLANNERme is homeless and PANTSERme is growing roots. Out are all the goals, timetables, revision schedules and outlines. THERE IS NOTHING BUT CHAOS.

Hopefully at some point that writing-spirit will return until then I have this.

Dream a little dream…

Library is finished.
Never mind all the other stuff I still need to unpack – this was ESSENTIAL.

In which my toaster is heading for the tip & I dance in a book shop…

I’m not going to talk about Nanowrimo because I’m not allowed to.* I will talk write about my toaster which is currently sitting in the corner of the kitchen waiting to hear its fate. The history of this toaster is unknown it was here when I moved in and has had at least one previous owner, probably a few more.

I should have disposed of it upon my arrival but at the time I couldn’t afford a new one so I’ve just been giving it dubious looks these past two years. Then during my manic cleaning spree on Thursday I looked at it and decided it needed to go… I have wished for a new toaster for Christmas** after one family member told me that “books” weren’t sufficient as an option. WHAT? After all these years how can they still not understand…

Curiouser and curiouser!

For the past year I have walked past the door of Storytellers Inc, or more accurately sat on the bus as it went past and always thought “I must visit”, today I did. After finishing the Christmas shopping I discovered my new favourite place. It’s what I wish I had as a kid, because while big chains and internet shopping has perks, its shops like this that make you all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

Euphoria was added when I discovered Jennie by Paul Gallico on a shelf. A brand new copy, it’s back in print! It is finally back in print! Cue much excitement.

To celebrate this, my new Wonderland and thinking I am not the only one who has family that doesn’t consider “books” a viable Christmas present I will be hosting a small giveaway.

Have a mince pie while I explain…

I will give you whatever book you want.

I should rephrase that, I will give you whatever book (that is available on the Book Depository and I can afford) you want. There are always restrictions aren’t there? I’m sorry… basically if you win you can pick any title for $10(ish) on the Book Depository and it’s yours.

Rules are simple; you get an entry for commenting, one for tweeting and five for blogging about it and telling me what books make you dance with joy.

 

Closing date is the 31st December 2011 and winners will be announced the 3rd January 2012 because that’s when I should be back home.
Contest is international provided the Book Depository ships to your country.

Please see this post as to why I’ve postponed the giveaway.
*My own rule, I can’t do anything about “Candy” or the new idea I’ve had for “Hell” so pretending it’s not there means I don’t get frustrated. It makes sense in my head.
** Not quite brave enough to chuck it before Christmas I’ve left it hiding in the corner, jic.

The book I’m most grateful for…

is Märchenmond by Wolfgang & Heike Hohlbein.

Thinking about it I was a bit surprised because I was convinced it would be Sunshine by Robin McKinley – which is and will probably remain my favourite book. It’s the one that cheers me up no matter what and has been read too many times to count. It’s like a medicine, which given I’m full of a cold right now is apt but when I actually thought about it it’s not the one that I’m the most grateful for.

I was twelve when I read Märchenmond all the way through, I had started it once before but it was too long and I gave up after the first chapter. The hero is a boy and I didn’t much like boys… My parents had bought it for me after someone at school had raved about it, though now I seem to remember that was The NeverEnding Story* – they are somewhat similar I suppose.

Bizarrely I was in England when I began reading it, it was Christmas and I was sitting in a rocking chair while the remainder of my family was in church and my father as upstairs sleeping. By that stage he probably wasn’t well enough to have travelled to the UK but I’d refused to spend the first Christmas after mum had died alone with him and my older sister.
(Disclosure: Our family is very large, broken and very confusing to go into details would make this entry about three times as long and make me sound like I’m having a pity party. Yes that Christmas was awful and I hated Christmas for years after but I like it now. )

With nothing to do and bored I began following Kim on his adventure. I don’t remember how long it took me to finish, I’m sure it was a few days as I wasn’t a fast reader back then. That Christmas was the last one I would spend with my father, he died a few months later and I moved from Germany to England.

All of this sounds awful and why am I blogging about it?
Well because Märchenmond was the first time a book helped me. After that I found comfort in many more stories but it was Märchenmond that made my twelve year-old self forgot where she was and for that I’m very grateful.

 *that’s Die unendliche Geschichte to me, if you’re interested.

FYI – the book has been translated!

Giving up a little bit of my Pantser-ways

When I first began my writing, many many years ago I was a Pantser through and through.

Then as time passed and I learned more, I began to do little bits of planning. It was restricted to the odd note, maybe a page of notes, but not much more. At the start of the story I would relish this. Adore the fact that I was going on the adventure with my characters and couldn’t wait for the next surprise to greet us.

Yet sadly, frequently I’d have a shiny new idea halfway through the story and go back to rewrite the beginning to fit this. While doing that I’d have another idea and would thus began a vicious circle. Inevitably at some point I’d be sick of the whole thing and want to give up.

So at the beginning of the year I thought I’d try being a Planner. I read up on writing character profiles, world-building, researched everything, created detailed histories, chapter planning – the whole shebang.

Result? I knew what I was supposed to be doing but when distractions came my way I gave up on writing much more easily than before, because the thrill wasn’t there.

In the end, for much of this (and last year) neither approach would have kept me writing. There are amazing writers out there who will write through hospital visits, emergency phone calls, redundancy threats and whatever else Fate has in store that month – I am not one of them. Maybe one day I will be.

'No infant has the power of deciding..... by what circumstances (they) shall be surrounded' - Robert Owen

But as the end of the year neared I started to think about picking up a pen. I found a story that needs telling, characters to love… but neither approach seems to work for me.

Having decided to try Nanowrimo, I’ve been attempting to build a bridge between the two.

Yes, I have character profiles but they aren’t as detailed as before. Yes, there is world-building and research but I’ve kept it to a minimum. If I need to do more, I can always do it after the first draft is done. There is a history and a timeline but I have room to change things…

I know where my story goes, but how my characters get there is still an adventure.

#YASaves

I couldn’t not post.

The blogosphere and Twitter are overflowing with responses and comments to The Wall Street Journal article on YA. You can read the it here WSJ – I had to take a break halfway through because I was getting so annoyed by the condescending and narrow minded attitude of the piece.

The reaction of the YA community has been awesome, I’m so proud of all of us.

#YASaves is my personal truth. A huge part of why I’m still here and functioning is because of books. They were my escape when I wouldn’t face getting out of bed. My therapy because they taught me that I wasn’t alone, that there is hope and that I could make it.

They were are my best friends, because no matter what I need they can give me that. Laughter, tears, escapism, understanding…

There are so many things in that article that I could pick apart but I’m going to select the suggestions that reading about behaviours such as cutting would encourage someone to do this. It reminds me of the argument that watching violent films or playing video games makes people pick up guns and go on shooting sprees.

Dear WSJ,

NO IT DOES NOT!!!

I have more scars that I care to count covering my arms… most of them are years old, faded white lines that you hardly notice until you look closer.

I am proud of these, they are a reminder of my journey – what I had to get through to be the person I am today.

SCARS by Cheryl Rainfield was highlighted in regards to the above argument. This book has been on my wishlist for months, and surprisingly the cover does not make me want to cut myself. Surely it should?!* NO! Triggers/Reasons for cutting are so much more complex.

What WSJ has succeeded in doing is making me buy it now, today, right this moment. I’m giving up my chocolate fund for the month – because books like SCARS are so important, too important not to be read.

To suggest that reading it will make me cut again or make someone who hasn’t cut before suddenly pick up a razor blade is an insult to everyone’s intelligence.
That is not the purpose of the story.

You can read Chery Rainfield’s response here

*That suggestion annoyed me so much!

Escapism

Ever so often, I turn hermit.

I vanish from the online social space and ignore my phone.* I disregard my characters and my writing and instead hide in books or TV. I don’t watch the news or pay attention to current events and make myself comfortable on my sofa growling at those who dare disturb this haven.

Why? Well it’s a default factory setting in my brain.

This month I entered a semi-hermit state. I’ve been ignoring most things and hiding in books, books and then some more books. I worked out that I’ve actually management to read over 30 books this month** while barely writing more then a couple of chapters. The only reason I haven’t tuned out the world completely is Write Hope.

The advantages of having hermit moments is that I only have to deal with the problems faced by the people I’m reading about. Most of my reading during this phase consist of the trash-pile (I really need a better name, suggestions?) which means 10 out of 10 times I have a happy end and despite imminent death or destruction my hero will find love have thrilling adventures and be sarcastic enough to make me smile. The disadvantage is when I come back and have to play catch up.

I never like that part.

Which means that I drag out my hermititus as long as possible (I’m really wondering if I can carry this one on to April) and yes I know that makes returning worse. It’s as nonsensical and the puppy-cleaning-glove I got for Christmas 4 years ago when I don’t own a dog, or a cat or anything with fur…

Yet as soon as I enter hermit-status there seems to be a flashing neon sign that attracts people who try break through the barricaded door. People who I haven’t heard from in months, years even suddenly need to talk to me.

Where is the logic in that?

 

*that’s not so hard because it hardly rings
**this consists of well over 20 new ones and around 16 I’ve skim-re-read so I only count them as 1/2

Share the Birthday Love

This weekend is my birthday weekend* which I’m enjoying a lot.

Yesterday I went shopping with book vouchers and came back with 12 more and a bruised shoulder. We have this discount shop which sells books for £2-3, the stock can be hit and miss but this time it was a hit – just that most of the books were hardbacks so they weigh a lot.

I joined Sari‘s Blogfest because the timing was just so perfect and I couldn’t resist:

The idea is to ask other participants for advice on a particular aspect of your writing you feel you need help with. Originally I was going to use something from whatshouldbe my current WIP but it’s been pushed into a corner by another idea or rather an MC that just will not leave me alone.

The excerpt below is form the first few chapters and while the explanation is in there I don’t think it flows the way I want. So any tips to make this work better should be greatly appreciated.

My real name isn’t Breeyanna, I have no idea what my real name is. I remember at some point my second foster family enrolling me in Kindergarten under the name Annabelle, or was it Annalee?
For whatever reason family no two called me Anna. At least for the first few months, like I said it was a step up from You. Now mother number two had a serious brie addiction, which sounds harmless until you realise that there was basically nothing but that stinking cheese in the house and me being the newest servant girl meant I got the joy and dealing with most of the stuff.
“Get me the brie Anna.” shrank to “Brie, Anna” and soon I was pretty much answering to just Brie. By the time I’d been at the house for nearly a year the entire family, including all the other kids called me Brie
It should have stayed there, it would have ended there when I got moved onto family number three – if they hadn’t moved Melanie with me. She introduced me as Brie before I even got both feet in the house and it stuck. So much so that at some point a caseworker changed the name on my file to Breeyanna.

The winner of Some Girls Are will be announced tomorrow

 

*our family always turns the nearest weekend into a birthday weekend, because you know 1 day just isn’t enough

Books that make you want to go out and buy blueberries…

Ok, since the beginning of the year I’ve been in a bit of a reading flump, it’s not that I haven’t been reading, but more what I’ve been reading.

I gave up on the first two and only carried on with the third because I was having one of my stubborn streaks.

And there have been some good titles in the pile: Before I Die, Entangled & XVI* – there is nothing bad about these books, they’re well writing and interesting but they haven’t made me do anything.

I haven’t cared that much about the characters, worried about them or had the need to go and do something because of them. Like go and buy blueberries…

And then, this week I finally sat down to crit my bestest writing buddies WIP… I started yesterday and finished this morning, unable to put it down and get on with the other stuff I should have been doing.

Now if you think she’s my friend of course I’m going to praise it, trust me you’d be wrong. If anything I’m even more horrible, I was pretty much a cow** for the first part of the book. It’s a good job she’s made of stern stuff.

But the deeper I got pulled into Jaime’s world the more I found myself doing all the things I do when I’m in love with the story, characters, world, etc…

I felt for Jaime, I worried, I cheered, I went to find a book of Tennyson poems, I wished I could help her, I wanted to strangle the author when it got bad (I never would, she knows I love her ) and on the last page I knew wanted more.

The books that make you act like that are the best ones.

What I pictured one of my favourite characters to look like...

*only a few chapters away from the end
** not the standing in the sunny field kind