Rochelle Michael

Well sadly I didn’t get a lot of writing done in my time off, but I guess that’s all right. I did do some much needed editing and reviewing of my WIP. Since it has been written a bit out of order, I’m finding that as I write the beginning it’s important to go back and make sure that I’m capturing the essence of my established characters properly.

But overall it was a great week! I finished reading The Alienist by Caleb Carr. It turned out to be a fantastic book. Carr is such a great writer. Every sentence was flawless and the plot was engaging and addictive. I did notice he tended to care a great deal about when the characters ate and got rest, as if he felt on the hook for explaining to the reader when his characters took care of themselves. That was probably overdone. I’m finding out in my writing that I don’t always have to explain when they rest and when they eat unless it fits importantly into the story. I think readers will grasp that characters will take care of things, behind the pages. I mean, even the television show 24 doesn’t actually show Jack Bauer taking a bathroom break.

What I really admired was how Carr made me smell the setting. New York City in 1896 isn’t going to smell good and he made sure to remind readers of that. Smell is something often forgotten in fiction, so it was a nice element that really made me feel like I could put myself into his settings. Speaking of smell, I’ve owned this book for around five years, and it had that musty old paperback smell, which for whatever reason added to the experience of reading it.

I probably should have gotten out of the house more. I never did get my laptop out and find a cute café or join a writers group. I did take one walk and that was tonight. To find a secret forest path I’d have to drive miles, so I stuck to the plains and got a little bit of nature.

Tonight, I’m going to the midnight show of Angels & Demons. We’ll see how the movie compares to the book. I remember reading Angels & Demons really well. I think at the time I did most of my reading in the bathtub, so I can’t help but think of relaxation and hot water when reminded of it.

The week isn’t totally lost in the writing department. Tomorrow I’ll be traveling down to Pueblo for my brother’s wedding. I’ll bring my laptop, of course, and hopefully I’ll be able to get a few words in. Perhaps the wedding will inspire me!

Words written: 987
Setting: Oxford
Perspective: Ryan’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

She shook her head again and placed the ornament she’d been holding on to the tree and crossed her arms. She trembled lightly and stared up at the angel while tears welled up in her eyes. I carried on and tried my hardest to make myself believe what I had just promised her.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

So today was my first day off in Operation “Get The Hell Away From Work So I Don’t Rip All My Hair Out.” Overall it was a great success. Now to appreciate this post, you should go back and read “An Ideal Day” to see my grand fantasy of how I’d like to spend my time during this week. I certainly couldn’t have it all, but I could do some of it and I did!

I didn’t get up at dawn, but I didn’t need to. Instead, I woke up around 8:15 fully rested. I took a hot shower and put on my yoga clothes. I meandered downstairs and found my favorite Yoga DVD. I blew off the dust it had collected and followed an almost nude Rodney Yee as he stretched his way into the day.

Seeing him in his little bikini bottom made me think about Never-Nudes, and during my downward dog I chuckled, which didn’t do much to relax my belly toward the earth.

After floor time with the cats, which is essentially what my yoga turned out to be, I went right toward the fruit. Yesterday at the grocery store I bought every fruit imaginable so I could get some variety all week. To start things off, I opted for melon. That along with an English Muffin and I had quite a tasty breakfast. Sadly, I didn’t read anything while eating, but I did listen to music, so that should count for some sort of cultural calories.

Breakfast, check. Coffee, check. I was then ready to write. In my two-bedroom townhouse, I don’t have a home office, but I do have a cute little desk with a rather comfortable chair. So I planted myself at it and started the writing process. For three hours I worked on my book, reviewing and writing. I managed somehow to stay off of Twitter and Facebook, and got a lot done.

Before I knew it, my stomach grumbled and it was time for lunch. Fortunately, I had purchased some of the ingredients required for the grilled chicken salad of my dream day. I put it all together and it was better than I had expected it to be.

Then it was back to work. I started doing some major outlining of my novel with a program called StoryMill. It’s this software that helps you outline, organize scenes, keep characters lists, location descriptions, etc. I’ve only recently started using it for those purposes. I might end up buying it.

I spent a little time on the couch listening to music and trying to dream up what would happen next in my story and that was pleasant. There may have been a little singing, but only the cats could tell you for sure. And that’s pretty much how my first day went.

Sadly, there was no cute café, writers group, or secret forest path. But there will be a book and bath in my evening.

Tomorrow — I’m using the first half of my day to run some errands, pay bills, and do some cleaning. Then I’ll be back on the computer. So tune in tomorrow and I’ll show you just how that turned out too.

Words written: 1047
Setting: Oxford
Perspective: Ryan’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

It was an interesting dilemma for Dr. and Mrs. Peters. They only knew how to spoil Finn, but they wanted him to be civilized and responsible. He only knew how to be spoiled, but couldn’t help himself when it came to a party or a horserace.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

For the past month or so, I’ve been thinking about taking off an entire week of work to get a much-needed break, but to also focus on writing my novel. I have loads of vacation time, but not a lot of money, so I thought this little “staycation” as they now call it could be really beneficial. So I booked it and starting next Monday I’ll have the week off. On Thursday afternoon, I’ll have to travel about two hours to go to my brother’s wedding, which will be a great way to end my week.

So, now that I have a plan, I’ve been fantasizing about what I will do with my time. A part of me thinks I should treat it as a write-from-home workday, so I can role-play what that would be like regularly. Another part of me thinks I should just relax and take it easy.

Either way, they are somewhat one in the same in my mind. My fantasies include four days of the following…

Wake up at dawn, and do some amazing yoga, where I’m already completely flexible and able. Preferably, this yoga would be done on some sort of veranda with the sunrise within my gaze. I would be a master at it and wouldn’t require the assistance of instruction.

Then, I would eat a delicious fresh fruit salad. For whatever reason, when I picture this time off I think of fresh fruit. I have no idea why. But there would be lots of it. Ideally, I would eat this on some patio while reading a newspaper that I have some sort of subscription to. Or maybe a book.

Around 8:30, I would wander into my amazing home office that has an incredibly comfortable office chair, and get to work writing. The words would come out easily and my manuscript would just flow, but not too much. Every paragraph would be tight and meaningful of course.

Then around lunchtime, I would make myself a delicious grilled chicken salad. All organic of course, and drink peach iced tea.

After lunch, I’d pack up my laptop and head down to my favorite little café, where I’d enjoy some sort of latte and continue writing.

Then at 3:00, my really amazing writing group would converge at the local bookstore, which of course, would be right next to the café. We’d talk about our writing, review each other’s work and talk about books in general.

Around 5, I’d head home on foot, by way of a beautiful (secret) forest path that sits between my cute café and my (very nice) house.

Once home…

I’d make dinner for myself, probably something along the lines of a stir fry dish and a glass of pinot grigio. After dinner, I would maybe do some more editing and then retire with a big giant book. After a long bath, I’d fall asleep peacefully around 10 p.m. in matching pajamas (I have this strange theory that if your pajama bottoms and top match, you’ve got your life together).

And then I’d be so well rested to do it all again the next day, with some variations to keep things fresh.

But let’s be honest, chances are that I’ll sleep in until 10, grab a bagel, sit on the couch with my laptop, write if I’m lucky, eat grilled cheese, take a nap, watch Ellen, have some cookies, come up with something for dinner, do laundry, watch primetime TV while tweeting and reading blogs, and somehow squeeze a shower in there, before starting it all over again.

But a girl can dream, right?

By the way, if any of these pictures belong to you, I’m sorry. But you should know that I’m incredibly jealous!

Words written: 971
Setting: England’s M40
Perspective: Ryan’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

I had never expected to get the part. But isn’t that how it always goes for burgeoning actors who make it to the big leagues? You always hear them say that during press junkets, “I never expected to get the part.” And now it was my turn. But it was the honest truth. I thought Lawrence was only trying to give me an ego boost when he came to me with a plane ticket and a script.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Words written: 747
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

Julia was staring out the window, her champagne flute rested gently against her cheek, and I could tell she was deep in thought. I knew that look on her face from my own personal experience. It was longing for something more. I felt comfortable enough, and maybe even buzzed from the champagne, to engage Julia about what I had witnessed, “So I don’t know if you caught on but I think Mr. Spencer has a crush on you.”

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Words written: 989
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

My frivolous swim through the shallow end of the pool was interrupted when Julia snuck up beside me and looked over my shoulder. “Who’s the hunk?” she teased.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Once upon a time I was married. He proposed four years ago, and we spent the next year of our lives planning a wedding that became larger than us. The wedding was beautiful and filled with good intentions, but when we decided to move apart after only one year of marriage we both knew it was best for us and that we should have never gotten married in the first place. I knew then that I would someday be able to see how our breakup was the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s a year and a half later and I’ve made a lot of progress toward that enlightenment, but I still feel a serious sense of failure that I broke my marriage vows and especially in such a short period of time.

Some promises are hard to keep, especially the ones that should have never been made in the first place. But I find that the most difficult promises to keep are then ones that start with, “I will never again…” because repeating past behavior is hard to resist in particular situations. Lately I’ve been thinking about how breaking promises can turn out to be a good thing. It can be the best thing that ever happened to someone when she dives right back into a behavior that she once promised herself she would never repeat again. And that’s what I’m exploring in my WIP. Renata is constantly making promises to herself that she cannot keep, because she shouldn’t be making such ridiculous promises in the first place. Why limit the heart? Why limit your experiences just because the first time around it brought you to utter hurt and total failure? Resistance should be futile when someone like Renata is much too hard on herself.

So the moral of this blog post is that ideally promises should be made and kept only when it’s right, which is admittedly easier said than done, and that we shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves when we don’t get it right. I should have never promised to be with my ex-husband forever when I knew that we weren’t really meant for each other, but it happened and I should give myself a break about it. I shouldn’t promise myself that I will never get married again, because there’s no telling what’s in store for me. And Renata…she too will break a lot of promises to herself when she meets Ryan, and it will be the best thing that ever happened to her.

Here’s one promise that I don’t mind making publicly and that I plan on keeping. I promise that I will finish my novel and share it with whoever wishes to read it.

Words written: 2,726
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

More like a paragraph, and it just so happens that this paragraph opens Renata’s narrative.

I watched the time count up as I ran faster than usual on one of my gym’s many treadmills. 29:46. 29:47. 29:48. Before I could see 29:49, my cell phone vibrated harshly against the built-in water bottle holder. My ex-husband Patrick’s smiling face popped up on the display for the second time during my work out. I ignored it and increased the speed on the treadmill for the last ten seconds, hoping that if I ran even faster I would feel less frustrated with him. 29:58. 29:59. 30:00. Cool down. But running faster hadn’t made me feel better, it only made me trip over my own feet. As my body fell toward the horrifying conveyer belt, I thanked my lucky stars that I had remembered to adhere the emergency stop cord to my t-shirt. I hit the rubber surface hard and heard the women around me yelp at the sight of my fall and the sound of my thud. I pulled myself up, red with embarrassment and sore all over. I told myself right then and there I would never again act so stupid because my ex-husband was giving me grief. Never.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael