Mission 44

The creature in the above image is a Bantha.  It is an easily domesticated beast of burden found on the planet Tatooine.  Banthas are known for producing blue milk and being led by the strongest female in their herd.  And if you could put a ladder up to its rear end and climb into its butthole, you'd have some idea of what it was like to spend time in the college apartment of my friends Chris and Dave. I first experienced their apartment shortly after moving to Savannah.  I had just transferred to art school from an overcrowded state university in Orlando.  Chris and Dave have been friends of mine since seventh grade and I didn't know anyone else in town, so naturally I did my very best to make a general nuisance of myself by hanging around their place as much as possible. Being great friends, they helped me with my classes anytime I needed it.  I was coming into art school with little in the way of an artistic background so I would stop by their a...

 Just finished cooking up something good!  Love that sweet smell of accomplishment. When I was fifteen, I traveled across the southern part of the United States with a busload of other boys.  We were on our way to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico.  Our journey had begun in Tampa and it would take six anticipation-filled days to get to Philmont.  Following the bus ride, we were to begin a twelve-mile trek that stretched for fifty-three miles through the mountains of New Mexico.  The hike was brutal in parts and tested our will to continue.  In other places we found great enjoyment in the experience.  There was one place on the trail where we were scheduled to stay a second overnight and made no progress in distance or days.  In another place, we completed a hike that seemed impossible for miles uphill, hauling gallons of extra water to a campsite where we would find none. At one point in our trek, we got to a point near...

I haven't posted on this blog in nine days, and I haven't decided yet if that is a good thing. NaNoWriMo has become a huge part of my life, and I'm actually enjoying the abuse that completing this novel has inflicted on me.  The commitment and challenge were much needed.  My blogging has suffered, unfortunately, as has my fitness level, and I'm nervous about my yearly physical exam tomorrow.  Wrapping up a novel during October and writing a new one during November has not left a lot of time or motivation to follow any type of regular fitness schedule and I feel like crap.  I'm sure my physical will reflect that! I have started a post about one of my favorite teachers which I plan to finish and publish tomorrow.  I also challenged one of my writing buddies to a race to the 50,000 word mark.  The loser has to write a blog post about the sheer awesomeness of the winner. I'm looking forward to writing it. My main character is tormenting me less these da...

Friday morning, 4:30 a.m. "Hey, wake up!" Me: "What?" Main character: "I need to tell you something!" Me: "No, damn you!  You made me eat Diet Coke and brownie mix !  Leave me alone!" Main character:  "I'm only going to say it once, so go get a piece of paper and take notes." I groaned, then got up, found one of my daughter's many "spy notepads" in the dark, felt around for a pencil, and began listening to one of the saddest and most tragic stories anyone has ever told me.  I took notes for a good hour before she finally let me go back to sleep at 5:30.  One of many things I have learned the hard way during these first three months as a full-time writer:  When the muse speaks to you, you write it down, because if you don't you will kick yourself later as ghosts of the idea evaporate faster than you can type. At 6:00 I was up again, getting everyone ready and off to school, and at 7:00 she returned a...

This strange November has compelled me to do even stranger things.  One example would be the writing of a 50,000 word novel in just 30 days.  Another example is the takeover of my brain by my main character.  Being that she's in a desperate situation with no options other than to fend for herself, she has discovered that her survival depends completely on her ability to be resourceful.  There are very few food items that she's been able to find, and during the course of the story she has put these ingredients together to make unique meals to get her through the ordeal.  To give you an idea of how far cuisine has devolved, here's how one of her experiences reads in the story. I already loaded up my mom’s car with all of the soda that’s left, along with a tub full of a new recipe that I invented.   Check it out: Chocolate Survival Pudding Ingredients: One box of Triple Chunk brownie mix Half of a can of Diet Coke Directions: ...

This NaNoWriMo thing is encouraging my mind to take me places I never envisioned I'd go as a writer. For example: I don't like writing in first person, but I'm doing it. I vowed to never write a book in journal format, but it's happening. I couldn't have predicted I'd be writing from the perspective of a teenage girl, but I so went there. I spent a couple of hours on the outline during the last week in October, did a little bit of research to make sure the story was tight, and spent a lot of time coaxing this little voice out of the lineup of characters who tend to come and go through the revolving door of my imagination.  As soon as I grabbed hold of her, she started talking to me, shy at first, and a little scared of the situation I put her in, and then, suddenly, she rose to the occasion.  Now this girl never shuts up.  She's kind, but she's willing to take punishing action when necessary, and she's finding strength that neither she nor ...

Today began the greatest challenge of my writing life.  My commitment:  A fifty-thousand word novel in 30 days.  My reward:  A winner's certificate and a first draft.  My reasoning: Because it's there, baby. Because it's there. I had heard of National Novel Writing Month before last week.  I'm not sure where, and I'm not sure why I had never entered before, but I had a little bit of NaNo stuck to the bottom of the seat of my memory.  When I saw it mentioned by someone on Twitter it stirred something in the deep downs, and my curiosity took control and followed the link to see where it led.  Reading about NaNoWriMo gave me those cold, heavy feet that tend to drag me down to the bottom of my ocean of excuses anytime I encounter something that seems challenging.  I balked, but the very next day I got an email from Donna Gephart and she suggested that I look into it.  I promised her that I would, which had me at the ledge, and s...

I'm not a book reviewer, but I enjoy sharing books that I like.  I think a shared book is one of the best gifts you can give a friend.  This is my gift to you, friend! I finished Markus Zusak's I Am The Messenger today, and I thought it was a great read.  The main character, Ed Kennedy, and his friends Ritchie, Marv, and Audrey were wonderful to spend time with.  The plot was beautifully constructed and I found myself smiling as Ed delivered message after message, transforming himself from an ordinary person into someone with the power to change lives, often with the smallest gestures. If you enjoyed The Book Thief then I suggest picking up this book.  The voice is similar, especially as Ed spends a lot of time making observations before taking action.  Also along the lines of Book Thief , Messenger's narrator delivers some of life's great truths in beautiful little packages: On carrying eighteen hardcovers home from the library: "I di...

I signed up for NaNoWriMo last week.  That means that during the month of November I must write a 50,000 word novel.  One month.  Thirty precious, unrecoverable days.  This great ambition saddled me with a problem. There's no problem in sitting down and banging keys.  It's what I do all day.  The problem was that when I signed up I didn't have any novel ideas.                    (Sorry... couldn't help myself there.) The two ideas that merged to form the book I'm finishing have been with me for a long time.  The great idea that keeps interrupting me is going to have to wait because I'm not yet a good enough writer to bring it to life.  So I needed an in-between idea.  Something light that I wasn't totally committed to.  An idea that I could date for a month but didn't have to marry. I could think of only one place where I w...

Last week I sent out this tweet: Nothing hurts my inner child quite like butterbeer. http://t.co/4HjaC4P1QK — Scott Ralph (@RalphSensei) October 24, 2013 To which I received this response: @RalphSensei should've gone for the authentic stuff at the wizarding world. Or try making butter beer latte...I have the recipe if you want? — SarahViecelli (@ButterflyQuills) October 24, 2013 So I go: @ButterflyQuills Latte? Please send it my way! — Scott Ralph (@RalphSensei) October 24, 2013 And Sarah 's all like: @RalphSensei 2 tbs of brown sugar, 2 tbs butter melt together while stirring. Add about a cup of milk, 1 tsp vanilla and dash cinnamon. — SarahViecelli (@ButterflyQuills) October 24, 2013 @RalphSensei then you bring all to nice boil. Pour in fave mug and enjoy the nostalgia! It tastes great! — SarahViecelli (@ButterflyQuills) October 24, 2013 If someone takes the time to read my blog, respond to my tweet and then send me a recipe, you can bet I...

After majoring in beer for my first year of college, I decided that it would be in my best interest to leave and seek a fresh start someplace else.  My parents suggested that I return home and finish an associate's degree at a community college in Ocala before attempting university life again.  I agreed that it was probably my wisest choice and began moving my stuff back home.  In the bottom of my bedroom closet I found a tightly packed Tyvek mailing envelope.  It was full of the brochures and catalogues of the small private colleges that send mailings to every high school kid who can spell his name right on the SAT.  (I'm not good at throwing things away; I find value in everything.)  I had considered each of them, back when I was a high school scholar with promise, and they had all had been successful in painting a picture in my mind of walking amongst alluring green spaces and smiling in stately libraries with my beautiful friends.  One by on...

In a beauty pageant they always tell you the runner up before the winner, so here we go with the second most embarrassing moment from my teaching life: I was teaching fifth grade at Lovell Elementary in Apopka and, like all teachers, my body adapted to a schedule of very short breaks and very long teaching periods.  As the longer periods are occupied with the business of teaching, those short breaks become vital to any teacher with a bladder.  As I finished my lunch one day, my body informed me that it was time.  I headed for the men's room and as I came up to the door I noticed that the handle was resting at an angle that it typically didn't.  I grabbed the handle and lifted it and heard a snap from within the locking mechanism.  This probably should have stood out as a red flag, but when you're desperate you don't notice such things.  I pulled the door shut behind me and pressed the lock button on the other side of the handle and heard something slid...

Every Tuesday and Friday I have a standing lunch date with my dad.  On Tuesdays we go to Arby's, where he gets the Classic with the au jus dip and fills a free water cup with stolen lemonade.  On Fridays we go to Texas Roadhouse, where he gets a 6 oz. sirloin, medium rare, a baked sweet potato with extra cinnamon butter, a side of cole slaw, and a 10 oz. Boston Lager. Most days, we have the same conversation, at least on his side.  He'll ask, "How are the girls?" and I'll give him a run down on the doings of my wife and daughter.  His response, depending my answer is either "Oh no," or "that's good," followed invariably by "Scooter's fine.  He went dumpy-poo this morning."  Scooter is the aging Pomeranian that he brought with him to assisted living a couple of years ago.  I'll tell him about my boring life and ask him what he's been up to, a question that leads to one of three possible outcomes:  a) He went to a fitn...

Until last week I hadn't read any of the Harry Potter series since the weekend of the final book's release, about four years ago, give or take a couple of months.  One of my favorite books of all time, The Prisoner of Azkaban , is part of this fantastic collection.  This book has everything that I love about Harry Potter: the train, the Marauder's Map, all types of interesting magical gadgets, Hogsmeade, the Dementors, Hagrid getting drunk, hardcore Quidditch, and everything else you might expect from the perfect Harry Potter book.  Picking this book up ten years after my first read was sweet and familiar, and I relished walking the halls of Hogwarts with my Gryffindor friends once again.  (I must call them friends, and not mates, because I'm a Ravenclaw... as you probably have guessed by now.) Unfortunately, J.K. Rowling also uses her third book to introduce the single worst aspect of the Harry Potter universe to her readers: butterbeer . In the book, ...

So I'm working on this book, right, and I have no idea what to do with it.  Here's the back story: I wrote a book years ago.  I thought it was a great story.  Sent out queries.  A few came back with requests, I sent out chapters, got rejected.  The rest of the SASEs that came back from the queries were rejections.  Project went nowhere. I wrote 75% of a second book, also years ago but not as far back on the timeline.  I knew it was a great story.  Sent out queries before the book was done.  Almost all came back with requests.  Characters were painted into a corner, leaving me with nothing to send out.  Project went nowhere. Last Christmas I imagined the characters from the second book living out their adventure in the setting and context of the first book.  Everything came together and I'm two weeks away from typing The End.  Project is destined to go somewhere...but where? Here's the dilemma : I have been foll...

Today was a challenging day in the book writing department.  I had to rebuild a major plot point because I didn't have my facts straight.  Sometimes, when events are insignificant, I don't mind fudging a date or two.  I ran into a real problem, though, and had to rewrite a lot of stuff. You may be expecting me to say, that sucked .  To be honest, I was about to type that.  But then I considered that changing my plot point redefined how an important group of characters related to one another, and I realized that challenging doesn't need to mean bad.  Sometimes you need to slog through and solve problems.  I got to do a lot of that today.  The point is, keep writing and don't give up... the characters will talk to you and tell you which way to go.  The biggest problem right now, not that it's really a problem, is that the next book I'm going to write keeps interjecting itself into my writing time.  I can't ignore it, so I make as man...

My wife always reminds me how I don't really seem to notice time passing.  She does this by carbon-dating the incomplete items on my imaginary honey do list.  (I call it imaginary because only she knows what's on it; I honestly have no idea.) "That pile of mail has been sitting there for two weeks." "Didn't we talk about cleaning out the garage nine years ago?" The homeowners association president asks me if I'm ever going to put up the fence that I got approved two years ago.  When I dislocated my kneecap last November I went to my doctor.  He still looked the same as remembered him, so it was strange when he said, "Haven't seen you in about seven years!" The students I taught at the beginning of my career have grown up and left school, and many have graduated from college.  One became a star college volleyball player.  I sat with her family at one game per year for four straight years... whenever her team would come to tow...

A common phrase states that the difference between an amateur and a professional is a paycheck.  Someone said that to me shortly after I began my writing career.  I don't remember who, but I remember their words, and I remember it was something that I had thought of as well when I landed my first paid writing job.  I decided to become a writer in March of 2013.  I had been a writer long before then, and had kept all of my rejection letters as evidence that I was a real writer.  Teaching was my career and I was always writing in my spare time, but could never find the time to finish anything else after those first few attempts.  My first paid writing job came on April 1st, 2013, when I earned $33 for writing an evaluation of a software product for a company in the United Kingdom.  With the delivery of that job I considered myself a professional writer. Moving from amateur to professional happened more quickly than I had anticipated. ...

Another blog about the life of another writer.  Coming October 1.  See you then.