Author: abby mumford

feelings

teammates

abby mumford

i had some mind blowing experiences this week. and now that i’ve scraped the brains off the walls, i’m here to tell the tale.

experience #1. i had dinner with a grad school friend. her husband calls these dinners our “secret meetings” which makes us feel all kinds of sneaky and spy like, but in all reality, we’re just eating, drinking, giggling, gossiping, and talking writing. i don’t have many writerly friends that i can see IN PERSON on a regular basis and there’s something to be said about sharing a beer while lamenting the lack of character voices in our heads. (and that’s why we’re NOT spies. sometimes, we hear voices. it gets distracting when you’re trying to do recon.)

but the really amazing thing was that she handed over my MS. the one i’ve been working on since before, through, and after grad school. my first love. and also the one i was taking a break from. she’d had it since july, but to be fair, was going through some crazy times and life got in the way. i get it. my writing is not a priority of hers, but in this time when i still haven’t figured out the whole “how to get critique partners” thing, she’s all i’ve got. and it may have taken 4 months, but man, did she deliver. and we talked about my manuscript in-depth 3 different times over the course of the meal! i even got my pen out and started taking notes. i can’t tell you how refreshing that felt. she laid out the weakness and pumped up the strong points and suggested some ideas that got my brain aswirling. i left dinner on a writerly high i haven’t felt since grad school ended. and i left excited about my first love MS all over again. i felt like a real writer (for probably the third time in my life). i left there with attainable goals of what to fix and how to fix it. that was the most delicious part.

experience #2. i played squash again. of course i lost every single match, but my serve is consistently in and i am hitting some hot shots and most importantly, i am getting on the scoreboard. sure, i keep forgetting the ball doesn’t bounce and so i wind up in a tennis motion only to swing and hit air. (yeah, it’s as embarrassing as it sounds). but for only having played the game twice, for a total of 2 hours, my improvement is pretty rapid, i must say. so much so that i’m thinking about getting my own gear. (Santa, you listening?) this game is addicting. it’s refreshing. it’s exhilarating. it’s FAST. and it gives me an attainable goal. beat my coworker. that is the most delicious part.

but the thing i learned that splattered my brains across the walls?

i realized that i can’t do this alone.

you can’t play squash by yourself and you can’t write all by yourself. sure, i’m in charge of my own production (whether it’s returning a shot or writing a novel), but you need a teammate there to return the volley or spin you around and point you down the path towards THE END.

i’ve had teammates all my life, in the form of soccer and lacrosse and basketball and tennis teams and siblings and friends and cousins. why is it so shocking that i still need them?

probably because i’m a perfectionist and when i set my mind to do something, i know (read: i think) that the best way to get it done is to do it my way. but that isn’t always right and frankly, it gets lonely. i’m tired of that. i’m ready to accept any and all forms of help. whether it’s in the shape of a squash racket, manuscript critiques, or a RAH RAH YOU CAN DO IT from the sidelines.

phew.

epiphanies are exhausting.

(or maybe it’s just all that running around the squash court.)

feelings

trick or TREAT

abby mumford

given the fact that every single tooth in my mouth is a sweet tooth, i’m partial to the whole TREAT aspect of halloween.

i don’t care much for tricks.

so, with that in mind, here are a couple of treats from me to you. (well, specifically, they’re from my sister/BIL and brother/SIL to me, but i’m passing along the cuteness.)

may i present you with the ladybug…

and her cousins in the form of luigi, the TV with Super Mario Bros game on it, and mario.

and while i’m doling out the treats, here’s another one.

and the last one…this one courtesy of one carrie harris.

feelings

reason #32 to stay up past your bedtime

abby mumford

GUSTER.

they are one of those bands that blow you away EVERY SINGLE TIME you see them live. and i’ve seen them more times than i can count. they just have this charisma on stage that doesn’t translate to CD. they truly enjoy their fans and that, in turn, makes it even more fun to see them over and over.

and you know what makes a guster concert EVEN MORE FUN than usual? going with two friends, one of whom doesn’t know he’s going.

i’m normally a professional sekrit keeper. i never even let on that i know any information, let alone do the “i know something you don’t know” song and dance. and up until yesterday, this was no exception. in fact, the fall has been going so fast (seriously, we’re only 2 days away from november? huminah, what?) that the guster concert snuck up on me. (read: i forgot about it) but it worked out supremely well because i saw L&N last weekend, and that could have been prime sekrit slipping time.

but nope. N had no clue what L and i were planning. in fact, N didn’t even know i was joining in on the festivities until he saw my sweet ride (shocks. pegs. LUCKY.) driving into the parking lot. i was so excited (and admittedly, a bit hopped up on sugar free red bull) that as i waved hello, slid into the car and heard my phone’s google calendar event reminder, i grabbed my phone, waved it around, and yelled, “GUSTER CONCERT!!!!!!!”

*crickets chirping*

N grinned, but looked over at wifey L to see if he was allowed to know the details of tonight’s event. L sputtered, “but he didn’t know yet.”

oops.

and just like that, i was given the pink slip out of the professional ranks of sekrit keeping.

fortunately, we were now able to have N (a portland, ME local) drive us to a good restaurant and then find us street parking without us having to throw him off the scent. or having to have L drive and me navigate. (we all know what happens when i’m in charge of directions…) and fortunately, the release of the sekrit didn’t detonate any fireworks or tempers or contracts on my life. and seeing guster live (again) was as amazing as we were anticipating. those boys sure put in a lot of practice and it shows in the show. the lights. the sounds. the talking to the audience. brian singing the “50 states” song. the new songs. the old songs. it’s all genius.

i wanted to SHARE some guster with you, but i couldn’t find a proper video of them live (not that it would have done them any justice because a video of them live doesn’t equate to actually being in the same room with them), so instead, here’s a little acoustical lullabye.

you’re welcome.

and next time they’re at a venue near you, stock up on red bull, caffeine, and wave goodbye to your pillow. trust me, it’s worth the lost beauty sleep.

 

oops.

general

pantser or plotter

abby mumford

in a black and white world, there are two kinds of writers: pantsers and plotters. a plotter is one who prepares plots and characters and scenes and outlines before sitting down to write a new manuscript. a pantser is one who writes by the seat of her pants, diving into the story with nary a thought to who, what, when, where, or why.

in a gray world, most writers fall somewhere in between doing a little bit of plotting before beginning and then jumping in with both feet (err, both hands on the keyboard) to see where the characters lead them. some will write a little, stop, assess, outline and write some more.

there is no right way to write, but rather a personal preference. i used to be a plotter, but after spending many years on the same manuscript, i realized i need some distance. in order to get said room, i’ve started working on something new and with that something new, i decided to write in a new way — pantser’s style.

i’m finding it quite difficult, actually. i’m getting so bogged down with the enormity of the lack of direction i have laid out for this story that i’m going way too in depth with scenes because it’s easier to move laterally instead of forward. i find it’s simpler to layer unnecessary detail after irrelevant detail than take a step in the wrong direction.

but is there really such a thing as the wrong direction?

writers, what do you do in this situation? is there a right way? a wrong way? perhaps should i stop trying to increase the word count and make a quick outline? or should i push forward and let my pants lead me? even if my pants have me doing a thriller style dance while a country twang song is on?

non-writers, what do you think you would do in this situation? perhaps your total objectivity will be of a benefit for me. or perhaps there is a mathematical formula that can solve this problem. what if i ran the quadratic formula of “the end” and then took the square root of that? will that place me somewhere in the middle of my story?

everyone, help!