In memory – Anne Waple DeNitto: 10/16/47 – 1/25/12

What does a eulogy or an obituary have to do with writing?  In this case, quite a lot for if not for my sister-in-law, Annie, I would never have submitted the first draft of my novel to the Gather.com First Chapters Romance competition in 2007 and thus, would not have met Mike Simpson and the rest of the great gang of folks at Second Wind.

In 2007, Annie was living with us as she struggled to get back on her feet after a long stint of unemployment.  She believed in my writing but she felt that I was making excuses for not taking it to the next level.  One day after work, I came home to find the details around the Gather.com contest printed out and sitting on my placemat at the dinner table with an “I dare ya” on her lips.  Long story short – I took the dare and here I am.

Anyone who ever met Anne DeNitto will tell you, she was a force of nature.  She was not the sort of person who fades into the background or stands on the sidelines of life.  Annie lived life to its fullest, embracing adventure or new experiences with no hesitation.  Charismatic, intelligent, headstrong, gifted artistically, and passionate about the people and animals that touched her life; Annie was a lot of things to a lot of people.

To me, she was a friend and at times a stand-in for a mother-in-law.  We shared a love of music, reading, food, flowers, and my husband and kids.  Annie was easy to talk to and she understood me in a way that few people do.  We could disagree or be angry with one another one minute and forgive/forget the next.  Time could pass between conversations and we’d always pick up again where we’d left off seamlessly.  She knew her brother, my husband, well enough to advise me on how to handle the ups and downs that all married couples go through, and well enough to shed light on some of his motivations for those things that make one go “huh?”  In fact, she has much to do with why my husband and I are still together.  It was Annie who convinced me to give him one more chance, and that chance was the one that made the difference.

To my husband, she was a beloved older sister – which means sometimes they fought and sometimes they were a formidable united front.  His grief during her illness and upon her death has been hard to watch.  In many ways they were two peas in a pod, yet they were polar opposites in others.  To my children, she was part aunt, part stand-in grandmother, and part fairy god-mother.  Both boys loved her dearly and miss her terribly.  Annie had a rapport with my boys that at times I can admit to being a bit envious of.  She was also the sort of aunt that sent the really cool educational toys and books that children actually like, sent mementos from her varied travels, and remembered to send cards for every single occasion.

If I had to pick one adjective to describe her, it would be eclectic.

She was an actor and usually became involved in community theatre where ever she happened to be living.  In her younger years she even toured with several troupes.  When I first met my husband, she and he were in a community theatre production of “Oklahoma!”  I recall sitting in the audience realizing I should be paying attention to my boyfriend, but being struck by how good his sister was.  Annie was so far and above the best actor on the stage – a star somehow misplaced among the rest of us.

Annie was also blessed with a lovely voice.  One night shortly after she’d moved out to return to Sarasota, my oldest son lamented her absence during story time.  “Don’t sing mommy,” he said.  “It makes me miss Aunt Annie.”  “Because she used to sing to you sometimes?” I replied.  “No, ‘cuz she can sing and you can’t.”  Out of the mouths of babes, but she did have a beautiful voice.  The choir director at our church was practically stalking her while Annie lived with us.

In addition to her artistic side, Annie was an incredible cook.  All of the Waples, with the exception of my father-in-law, have a gift for food.  Annie and Joe, my husband, in a kitchen together was a recipe for some spectacular clashes that resulted in some mouthwatering, waist expanding delights.  She and her sister are well known for their rum cakes, and friendly competition between them aside – Annie’s rum cakes were amazing.

In one of those ironic twists of fate, this incredibly rare woman was struck down by a rare cancer.  My husband and I took the kids to see her in October.  Joe and the kids went out to get her a Wendy’s frosty and I had some time alone with her.  In the midst of talking about general things, she admitted to being scared of dying.  I reminded her that of all things, she was at heart adventurous and had to my knowledge never backed away from a new experience, challenge or adventure.  This was just the end of one adventure and the start of a new one – ultimate adventure.  She spent a moment thinking it through, then she smiled.  “Yeah, it is. I just could do without all this discomfort,” she answered as she gestured at the hospice bed and assorted paraphernalia.  We spoke some more about general things, and how thrilled she was to have finally become a real grandmother.  Her oldest son and his wife had their first child this year and Annie was able to see her granddaughter.  When we said good-bye, we both knew it was probably the last time I would see her in this life.

While the end of this adventure we call life for Annie wasn’t comfortable, she was able to know her grandchild and she was surrounded by the love and presence of her many friends, her family, and the staff at Heartland who became like family.

See you on the next cycle my friend.

 Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead writes paranormal romance among other genres. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

Over the river and through the woods to…hey, didn’t we just cross that same bridge an hour ago?

I know the real reason men get married and I am outing you guys.  It has nothing to do with how well she cooks, or how she makes you feel like the king of the world or any of that other stuff we women love to hear.

It’s so you can get directions when you get lost and still save face. 

Ladies, how many times has your husband, after the fourth time you suggest that according to the map you might be lost, has he said, “Fine, you go in and ask them how to get to route 50 if you don’t trust me to get us there!”

For Thanksgiving this year we decided to drive to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware to spend time with my husband’s family for a change.  It’s been about four years since we last made the trip and we were definitely overdue.  One would think that my husband would be well acquainted with the various routes, having lived in Rehoboth for a number of years and having spent holidays with his brother or his sister before we got married.

Alas, it turns out he knows one route by heart and the others are sort of a hit or miss.  Every time we’ve gone in the past, we go up the Eastern Shore and come home via 301.  This year due to traffic reports of backups in the Hampton Rhoads tunnel and on 64 towards the Bay Bridge Tunnel – we decided to go up 301.  Or so I thought.  On a lark, Wednesday night at 5 pm, he decides to take I-95 North to catch 301 above Richmond.  He gets in the far left lane, lays the hammer down and off we go.  At the Atlee-Elmont exit I suggest that he get over to the right hand lane since traffic was hideous and the exit would be coming up shortly.  “I know what I am doing,” he says with only a hint of “would you like to drive?” in his voice.  He’s still in the left lane when I see the signs indicating the exit is coming up.  “So, Hon, you might want to start working your way over.  The exit is in 2 miles.”  Silence.  “Honey?”..Silence.  “The exit is coming up.”  “I know that I just want to get ahead of that car.”  “But there’s a break behind him if you’ll just slow down a bit…and we are getting off the interstate in about a mile anyway, so who cares?”  Silence; except for the sound of acceleration as he attempts to pass the car that has no intention of letting a mini-van with a Mickey Mouse antenna topper pass.  Needless to say, 2 miles later he was able to get into the center lane, behind the aforementioned car with the exit a mile behind us.

I’ve been married to this man for ten years; I know when to keep my own counsel as he starts muttering about where we might be able to pick up 301 again.  I’m also familiar with the spots where one can easily “pick up 301 again” in Virginia and knew we weren’t going to see 301 again until we were on the other side of DC.

In the end, we got to his sister’s house with only a few minor detours through the countryside of Delaware and one stop to ask for directions.  We made remarkably good time, all things considered, and from my husband’s point of view, he is right up there with Lewis and Clark in terms of charting his way.  (I refrained from reminding him, that without Sacagawea, they probably would have wound up in Central America.)

 

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

Traveling thoughts

I’m one of those “lucky” people who have SAD (seasonal affective disorder for the uninitiated.)  As summer gives way to fall, the shadows of the longer nights creep over me dragging depression like a film that coats everything in my life.  I also start to crave the sun like a junkie craves a fix.  To help combat the blues, I head for Florida for a week in the sun and running around one of the Happiest Places on Earth.  (Or as my husband puts it, my annual pilgrimage to worship The Mouse…)

 When people find out that I go to Disney World every year, and have for the past 20 years, they question whether I ever get bored with it.  In a word, never.  As much as Disney stays the same, there is always something new.  I find a “hidden Mickey” that I never noticed before, or I try a new dish in one of the “countries” of Epcot, or I see one of the animals in Animal Kingdom that I haven’t seen before, or I talk to a Cast Member from another country and learn something about a different culture.  Then there’s the joy of experiencing Walt Disney World through my children’s eyes.

 I first started my “pilgrimages” when I was a single 20-something.  My sister and I were sharing a house in the Museum district of Richmond and we were both getting depressed by the coming fall.  A good friend of ours invited us to travel with him to Florida where he was going for the final round of interviews for a position at Disney World.  His parents had exchanged a time share week so he could stay at a Marriott timeshare 5 minutes away from the parks.  Some mutual friends who also worked at Disney were arranging for my sister and me to get into the parks, so all we had to come up with was gas and food money.  He didn’t have to ask us twice.

What we also found was this one week of being outside – either park hopping or lying by a pool – seemed to give us an extra burst of light and happiness to fight the creeping depression and if not keep it at bay for a few more weeks, at least lessen its effect.   We bought a time share together, and then a second one.  The tradition started and for a long time it was the one place where she and I would reconnect after we’d gone our separate ways – her to a marriage and me to a career that involved a lot of travel and long hours.  Like migrating birds, we’d meet up in Florida to touch base, chill out, and recharge or mental batteries.  There is just something about walking into the world of Disney in the warm Florida sun that energizes me.  Maybe it’s connecting to the sheer energy of the place.  Maybe it’s being immersed in a place that is all about the imagination.  Maybe it’s really Magic.  All I can say is – it works for me.

 During this trip, I’ve been rather nostalgic and feel as if I’m reliving the experiences of the younger versions of me who’ve made this trip.  I remember that first trip.  We drove straight through – me, Liz and Ross all crammed in a tiny hatchback.  At one gas station, I will never forget how the cashier laughed at the sight of Ross unfolding his bleary-eyed, disheveled, 6’5” self out of the car.  He’d crawled back into the luggage area and curled up like a cat while Liz and I sang to the Rocky Horror soundtrack and ate up the miles.  When we pulled in to get gas, the cashier had seen the two of us get out of the car and come in to pay for the gas.  “Omigod, how big is he and where was he?” she asked us.   

I remember the year I came by myself to recharge myself after ending the most torrid and toxic relationship of my life.  At first I planned to just lie by the pool and soak up the sun, but the call of the Magic Kingdom was more than I could resist.  I experienced Disney in a whole new way going to the parks alone.  It was liberating and I returned home whole and healed.

 I remember the trip down to Disney with my husband the first year we were married.  He’d never been before and I watched a 43-year-old man revert to a 12-year-old in the blink of an eye.  I remember walking through the parks when I was pregnant with my first child, and the second, and vowing if there was a third time – someone was renting me a wheelchair or we were planning the pregnancy so that I wasn’t an expert on the restroom locations or dealing with cankles.  I remember the one hideous trip when my oldest child was a baby and another couple went with us whose second child was a week older than mine.  We drove together in the same mini-van: four adults, one toddler and two infants.  Both babies had a series of – er – blowouts during the trip, so by the time we arrived, the kids were wearing only diapers having gone through all their accessible changes of clothes, the toddler was whiny, the adults were frazzled and my mini-van got a date with an auto detailer as soon as the concierge could arrange it.  I remember when each of my children got their first view of Mickey Mouse. 

 As you can imagine, by now I have this trip down to a fine science.  I know where we should stop for gas and bathroom breaks.  I can tell the kids exactly when we will get there, where ever “there” is in the particular question: dinner, next gas station, hotel to sleep in, state lines, and Orlando.  It’s familiar, yet, like Disney, there is always something new to see as the landscape changes from development, or in the current economic situation – abandonment.  On this trip, I’ve seen subtle signs of the bad economy.  The occasional home along the road that was previously kept up now falling into disrepair.  Small businesses that now sport closed or for lease signs.  Billboards with no messages.

I’ve come a long way from the girl who would drink her way around the world at Epcot and spend the night dancing til Pleasure Island closed only to get up the next day and do it all again.  I wonder how much further I will go?  The only thing that I can say with any certainty is that as long as I have problems with SAD, I’ll continue my annual migration to Florida for some sun and fun to counteract the coming winter blues.

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

Going out on a limb – metaphorically speaking

I’ve started to wonder if I should start writing about how to deal with writer’s block.  With respect to my writing, that seems to be what I do more of than anything else.  Don’t get me wrong, I have no shortage of ideas flitting about my noggin.  If anything, that may be part of the problem.  My muse seems to have contracted a case of severe ADD.

The minute writer’s block kicks in with whatever story I am trying to finish – another idea will pop up and either I start crafting the bones of a new story or I struggle to break the block on the other manuscript.  Mike Simpson, publisher extraordinaire, is probably reading this thinking, “Ah ha! So that’s why the sequel to A Love Out of Time hasn’t been completed, yet.”

The latest idea to come my way is a fairly cool one that weaves in string theory as the means for time travel.  The problem is that I don’t really understand much beyond the bare basics of string theory and those basics are from the non-scientist/non-technical perspective.  Which roughly translates into – haven’t got a flipping clue how it works and thus whether my idea would be “cool” to the reader.

One thing I have learned is that one must venture very carefully into the world of hard science fiction.  Get it wrong and people will let you know.  Bluntly.  Perhaps that is why I like fantasy writing over sci-fi, I can take more creative license.  Can’t figure out the science behind how the hero managed to travel through time?  Easy – it was a magical portal, yeah…er, wait – maybe an enchanted object…um, no, it was a curse.  When you write fantasy, you don’t have to bother with the pesky facts of physics – quantum or otherwise.  Science fiction, even so-called “soft” sci-fi, needs to have some tethering to either present known science or to plausible future scientific discoveries.  While I would love to write a science fiction novel, and do it well; I feel the pull of fantasy will ultimately hijack this idea so that I do something with string theory that will result in the howls of physicists everywhere. 

My father used to tell me that my love of fantasy fiction is because it’s coded in my DNA.  James Branch Cabell is an ancestor of mine on my dad’s side of the family.  (And yes – it is pronounced CAB-ble.)  Maybe I should ask my muse to channel my ancestor and under their combined guidance, I just might get something finished.

In all seriousness…we all hear the “write what you know” advice, but how much do you need to know to follow an idea down another path or out on a limb?

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

The art of perseverance and writing.

This has been a horrendous week.  There are some (my husband for example) who think most of my work weeks are horrendous to some extent, but I think it’s one of those “eye of the beholder” things because his career is on my short list of jobs I never want any part of.  In any event, on top of my usual assortment of projects and assignments – this week brought additional shades of horrendous to my life.

Me, I’m one of those “love to bring order to chaos” kinda people.  As a result, my career to date has been a series of new and different “opportunities” (corporate code for assignments that either make or break your career) to test my abilities.  About 90% of the time I am extremely successful, it’s that 10% that I guess has kept a promotion to the corner office and a staff of dozens from coming my way.  I suppose I bring this on myself.  I like challenges, and I really like learning about new areas of whatever business I happen to be working in.  One could say that I am not as selective about the projects I agree to take on as I could be when given a choice in the matter.  So, this week when my boss asked to talk to me about an “opportunity” – I was enthusiastically on board.

Day one:  I totally understand how a deer feels when facing down an 18 wheeler on a dark and lonely highway.

Slack jawed and stupid is not a look that works for me, but apparently I tried to rock it anyway.  The result was a disastrous “Stand and Deliver” meeting at close of business to the CIO and others with fancy titles.  My obvious state of “OMFG what did I agree to?” caused my boss to see me first thing the next morning to offer to extract me if needed, since at this stage all could be attributed to being parachuted into the midst of a forest fire with a squirt-gun.

After being chewed up and spit out at the end of day one, I had spent some time regrouping and trying to fit the pieces together so that I could understand what was going on.  Partly to decide if I was going to beg for extraction or whether I thought I could put on my “big girl panties” and make it work.  As you are sitting there listening to the project sponsor explain things at the 30,000 foot level, it really doesn’t bring the reality of the situation to focus until you find yourself in the middle of ground zero.  When I joined the team that day, I was clear on what I was supposed to do but how I was going to get the information I needed to proceed was more than a little iffy.

By the time my boss popped in to check on me first thing on day two – I had my game plan and my list of questions as well as an appointment lined up with the person most likely to provide the background and answers I needed.  The Stand and Deliver meeting at the end of the second day was exponentially better and by Friday I was able to see how my addition to the team was adding value.

Some of you may be wondering what has this has to do with writing.  I have a point – I promise.

I think the two are very similar.  No one likes to go down in flames be it publicly (a meeting in front of senior leadership) or privately (getting a rejection letter to your manuscript) and sometimes it can be tough to let it roll off your back.  The way I look at things, the critiques and rejections we get from agents, readers, publishers, and editors (much like the butt chewing I got from the CIO) can teach us a lot about where we are missing the point as well as what we are nailing on the first try.  It is all in how you approach it. 

Don’t get me wrong, there was a part of me that was mad as hell that I got chewed on for not being up to speed on things less than 5 hours after being pulled into a project with no prior knowledge of the players, facts, and issues.  There was also a part of me that had a knee jerk thought about begging my boss to take me off the project.  I also had a bit of a “what’s wrong with me” session for not immediately grasping exactly what to do and say to make things perfect.  In the end, I put my ego and neuroses about being perfect in neutral and focused on what was said to me.  It helped me take a fresh look at what I had produced and re-evaluate what I thought I knew.

And, on a side note, it helped me figure out how to re-write a scene in my current manuscript that has been driving me crazy.

 Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

Summer-time, and the living is sweaty.

Here in Central Virginia, we are experiencing what my grandmother called “three H days” – which means hazy, hot and humid for anyone lucky enough not to live in the Southeast.  I do love summertime but there is a reason why old movies set in the South depict women sitting on the veranda in a cotton slip drinking sweet tea (or something stronger) – they didn’t have air conditioning and it’s too darn hot to do anything else.

It seems like a few weeks ago my sons were eagerly awaiting the end of the school year.  Now, as July is winding down, my oldest realized that it’s only a few more weeks until school starts again.  “It isn’t fair!” he whined to me this morning as I was dragging him (literally) out of bed.  “Summer should be longer.”  As a child, I remember having the same belief.  As an adult, there is nothing about days when the temperature is 85 degrees with 70% humidity before 9:00 a.m. that I wish would linger.  I am ready for the crisp temperatures of fall. 

I have to say the heat wave may do some good things for my waistline because it’s forcing me to bring lunch to work, rather than go out to a restaurant.  It is also encouraging me to eat salads since they are typically cold or at least cool.  Over lunch today, my colleagues and I were chatting about the weather.  It was unanimous that our kids don’t seem to be affected by the heat.  While we parents are setting the air conditioning to Arctic conditions or positioning ourselves in just the right spot beneath the ceiling fans wearing the minimum of clothing to avoid an indecent exposure charge – the kids are running about playing games, riding bikes and generally working up a good sweat.

My kids beat the heat with water.  On the weekends, I fill a cooler thermos with ice and water so we stay hydrated.  There have been a number of water pistol battles waged in our backyard the past few days.  I suspect that this coming weekend will bring more.  We’ve even had a few “ice cube down the shirt or shorts” pranks.  As for me, the kids don’t have to ask twice to go to the pool.

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

When you’re writing, how do you evoke a memory?

We’ve all had it happen.  A song on the radio, a scent, a tactile sensation, a taste and – bam – you are transported back in time to some memory that stops you in your tracks for a moment, or two, as you relive it.  These slices from our lives can comfort or entertain and, sometimes, they can create an “ah-ha” moment that puts something into context and you finally understand.

I am struggling right now with a scene in my current manuscript that hinges on somehow capturing that sensation and taking the reader back to a pivotal moment in the past with my character.  The part that is so difficult is culling out a ton of back-story so that I concisely set the stage and get the message across.  Every time I think I have it nailed, on the second read it feels clumsy or there’s a sense that I’m not only barking up the wrong tree – I’m not even in the right forest.

At this point, I have tried weaving in the elements of the back-story earlier on.  I have tried using the characters actions rather than my telling the story.  I have even tried a dream sequence.  Perhaps I am being overly harsh on myself, but it just isn’t working.  It’s a good thing I write on my laptop, not a legal pad, because I fear whole swatches of timber would have been sacrificed by now.  The white writing on the delete and backspace keys of my keyboard are starting to fade away from the frequent friction of my fingertips.

It seems to me that we have some really talented folks who participate in this blog – so to spare my keyboard (and laptop) from further abuse, anyone have any suggestions?

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

Step away from the keyboard and keep your hands where I can see them…

Sigh.  When did being published mean you become a de facto member of the grammar police?  I don’t know about you, but if I had a dollar for every time someone said, “Hey, you’re a writer.  Can you take a look at this and fix any problems?” I could retire early.

It happened to me again this week.  A colleague came to me for help with a document.  I looked it over, didn’t see anything that was technically wrong and told them it was fine.  The person insisted that there had to be something wrong, after all, I’m a writer and they are not.  Honestly, the document was fine.  Stylistically, I would have phrased things differently in one section but it was clear and concise, and more important, sounded like something that they would write.

There is this myth that if you are a writer, then you must be a whiz with spelling, punctuation, and grammar.  Granted, I think writers may be more aware of spelling, punctuation and grammar errors than the average person, or perhaps we beat ourselves up more when we make errors, but I do not believe we are better grammarians or spellers solely on the virtue of being a writer.  That is why there are careers to be had as editors.

Being a good storyteller and being a good writer are two separate things.  A good storyteller paired with a halfway decent editor can get away with being a poor writer from a technical standpoint.  But a perfect technical writer without the gift of storytelling isn’t going to get a manuscript out of the slush pile.

So, you have the gift for storytelling, how do you improve your writing ability?

While I think formal writers groups are an excellent way to improve your writing, and to network, you can also benefit from informal groups.  You can take courses at your local community college, university, or even the county/city community centers.  I don’t recommend using your family or close friends to provide critiques of your work.  In general, your family or friends are going to be inclined to find the positives in your work and minimize or ignore the negative.

I also believe it is important to invest in good resources.  A thesaurus, a dictionary, and a good basic grammar reference book will be worth the money you spend.  You can buy them new or pick them up second-hand.  The bookstore at your local college or university is an excellent place to pick up a second-hand grammar book.  Personally, I like Strunk & White’s Elements of Style.  (If you are as much of a “nerd” as I am, there is a really cool illustrated version of Strunk & White….)  I also like An Incomplete Education as a general reference book.  This is one of those texts that has a little bit of everything and can get you grounded on topics you may know little or nothing about.

These suggestions aside, the easy way to improve your writing is to write, share that writing with others, ask for feedback, and be open to constructive criticism.

You have the right to not remain silent, but to go forth and write…worrying about those pesky grammar rules and typos once you’ve nailed the story down.

 

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

“POV. Please pick one and be consistent.”

This was a comment received on one of my early stories, delivered by Mrs. Martin, one of my high school English teachers.  Aside from the fact that she was an absolute witch, we called her Hecate behind her back, I remember her above all the others because of this one piece of advice.  While I don’t always tell a story from one single point of view (POV), I do try to avoid giving my prospective readers a case of literary whiplash.

I majored in English, with a writing concentration, so I have studied the various types of POV and have even tried my hand at writing in each.  My favorite POV to write in is the first-person voice.  It’s easier than say the second-person view, which always causes me trouble, although I think it’s an interesting technique.  As a reader, I prefer the third-person omniscient.

There’s something about this viewpoint that I find satisfying when I read.  Maybe it is due to an inherent curiosity on my part as to why a character is saying something or acting a specific manner.  I like knowing how one character is reacting to the words or actions of another.  The problem with third-person omniscient is the tendency to alternate between the characters too quickly – thus leading to the aforementioned literary whiplash. 

Third-person omniscient seems to be the most common for mainstream writing, so almost everything I read for pleasure these days is in this style.  When done well, this perspective is a joy to read (or write), but when it isn’t the result is frustrating at best.  In my own writing, when I use this view I work hard to ensure that my transitions are smooth between one character and another.  I’m not saying that I always get it right.  More often than not, I find myself doing the SHIFT Scroll CTRL+X combo or hitting the backspace key, repeatedly, while questioning what I was thinking.

So, what is your favorite POV to read or write and why? 

Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.

What do you get the Muse who has everything?

I’m getting mine a calendar.  A calendar with the entire month of December blocked off as unavailable.

Like many people at this time of year, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed and pressed for time.  Finding a moment to sit and relax has been difficult; finding time to write has been impossible.  Not having heard from my Muse in awhile was – for once – a good thing.  It meant one less thing for me to juggle.  And, Murphy’s Law being what it is, I should have known it was too good to be true.

As I was cracking pecans to make my grandmother’s recipe for “Sea Foam Candy” (aka pecan divinity), he put in his appearance.

     “Maggie, you do know that they sell these things already shelled and chopped, right?”

     “Yep,” I replied.

     “And you’re shelling them because?”

     “Forgot to run by the store on my way home and tonight’s the only night I have to make the candy,” I grumble.

     “Talk about waiting until the last minute…”

     “Oh, be quiet or take a stroll around the block in my shoes, buddy.  Where have you been anyway?”

     “Around, here and there, gathering ideas to share with you,” he says as he tosses his arm around my shoulder.  “So, I’ve been thinking about that murder story you’ve been working on and I’ve got this idea to link it to the sequel to A Love Out of Time…”

     “Mixing genres?  Is that a good idea?”  For a moment, I was intrigued but then reality intruded.  “Wait, now is not a good time for me to talk about this.”

     “Why not?”

     “I have two weeks’ worth of preparation for Christmas to squeeze into four days, plus handle everything that is going on at work.  Finding the time right now to be creative is a bit of a stretch.”

     “But you do some of your best work under pressure,” he quips before he does a slow fade out.

 Later, as I’m washing the KitchenAid Mixer and wondering how the hell my grandmother made this recipe without one, he pops in again.

     “The Sea Foam is cooling, the kids are in bed, and your husband is asleep in the recliner; is now a good time?”

      “Not really, I still have a load of laundry to wash, some presents to wrap, a contract to review, and a blog article to write before bed.”

      “Do I have to remind you what happened the last time you blew me off?”

      “Nope.”  I couldn’t keep the cringing out of my voice.  “You went MIA for about four months and you’ve been hard to reconnect with ever since.”

      “The rest of this stuff will keep, my idea won’t.  And, if you listen carefully, I’ll even help you write your blog.”

      “Deal, but can we do the blog first?”

     “Sure Maggie, consider it an early Christmas present.  Let’s get to work.”

 Next year – he’s getting that calendar.

 Mairead Walpole is the pen name for a somewhat introverted project and contract manager who has 20+ years of business and technical writing under her belt. In her spare time, Mairead reviews books for Crystal Reviews (www.crystalreviews.com) and writes paranormal romance. Her first novel, “A Love Out of Time” is available through Second Wind Publishing (www.secondwindpublishing.com) or Amazon.com.