Archive for February, 2006

I don’t have a lot of time to post today, but for the record, I spent most of the weekend procrastinating. It was a good kind of procrastination, though. I went back to my classical music roots, listened to tons of violin music and discovered some fabulous violin music that has captivated and inspired me. Did anyone watch the figure skating gala (exhibition performances) of the Olympics? If so, then I’m talking about the man who played violin on the ice while Plushenko (not sure if that’s the correct spelling) performed. His name is Edvin Marton and he makes a Strad sing in a way I’ve never heard before. If I get the chance, I’ll put some clips in my music player at my sidebar.

But, since I need to run and pick up my son from Pre-K, I’ll leave you with a copy of an article I wrote a while back. It was posted on the blog at Romance Divas back in December, but given my newfound inspiration (and my fervent wish that if only I had practiced my violin more I might have actually accomplished something) I’m going to post it below.

Practice Makes Perfect

“Practice makes perfect.”

I can still hear my violin instructor drumming that old adage into my head as he circles the small podium where I stand, losing the battle with a particular passage of dreaded double-stops. And if I close my eyes, I can smell the distinct chalk-like scent of rosin, feel the fine grooves of the strings beneath my fingers, and recall the heady sensation of sound reverberating through the belly of the violin.

I have a passion for music that has not dimmed over time. Yet, I will never play a concerto before thousands of onlookers at Orchestra Hall. Why? Because, although the violin is one of the great loves of my life, I didn’t set aside enough time for practice.

Today, I looked at my beloved violin, sitting so neglected in the corner of my bedroom, and a wave of nostalgia swept over me. I opened the case, and after all this time, the sweet chalky smell hit me as if I’d rosined my bow only yesterday. I ran my fingers over the burgundy crushed velvet interior and lifted the violin from its safe haven. The strings were all hopelessly out of tune until I took the pegs in hand and tightened them.

And then I took out my old sheet music and played. I played until I lost track of time. When I was done, the muscles in my fingers were sore, my shoulder and neck were stiff, and tiny, dark indentations marred my fingertips where the strings had cut into them. But it was as if I’d found a missing piece of my heart.

“Practice makes perfect,” my violin seemed to whisper to me on some ghostly bittersweet chord.

I gained a new, important understanding of those three tiny words, not just in reference to music, but all aspects of my life — and particularly, my writing.

How can I expect to stand before readers with my published book in my outstretched hands if I don’t contribute a significant amount of time to writing, re-writing and, in essence, perfecting the art of words?

It’s simple. I can’t. All I can ever hope to do is dust off those beloved stories once in a while, and revisit them as if they were forgotten friends, when in truth, they had the opportunity to be so much more. If only I’d practiced.

“Practice makes perfect.” Three little words with such powerful potential.

What will you do with them?

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Okay, I was able to get 3 clips uploaded….click on one and give it a listen.

My son had a field trip yesterday with his first grade class. They went to the bowling alley. Talk about an interesting, chaotic, experience….hundreds of 6 & 7 year olds hurtling bowling balls at little pins. Yikes!

The parent helpers each took 5/6 children and supervised them. Of course, I somehow ended up with the rowdy bunch who would not sit still (along with the one child who ‘wandered’ off by the video games and ended up getting a sound reprimand from the teacher once I caught up with him).

I had to laugh at all the different approaches to getting that ball down the lane. We had the thinkers, the one’s who would take their time before they sent the ball down the lane, then there was the impulsive one who wouldn’t wait until the pins were reset and ended up slamming their ball into the metal rails until I began physically holding him back until the lane was clear, and lastly, we had the ‘throwers’ versus the ‘rollers’ who whipped the ball down the lane at waist height instead of rolling it along the floor.

My son ended with the highest score in our group: a 73 (at the 7th frame–when we ran out of time). I was a proud momma. :) Even my 5-year-old did pretty good. He had this whole technique going–he’d take the ball to the lane, set it down, spin it around in circles with both his hands and then shove it down the lane. And then, when he’d hit a pin, he’d turn around, put his hands to his mouth and blow kisses at us while bowing. Yes, he has quite the dramatic flair. It was hilarious to watch.

So, my question for the day–what kind of writer are you? Are you the thinker/analyzer who has to setup your story before you jump into it, the impulsive writer who jumps in without knowing little more than the name of a character (and ends up slamming against the rail), or the ‘thrower’ who bounces along on the writing path, hoping the more forceful you are the better your chance at hitting a strike?

Does that make any sense at all? I didn’t think so.

Yes, I’m procrastinating when I should be working on Chapter 5 of my WIP … but with good reason. I’m doing some research on the Grand Canyon.

Meanie that I am, I’m sending my hero and heroine down into the canyon, and although I’ve been to the Grand Canyon, it’s been several years since that trip and we never had the opportunity to hike down to the canyon floor. Which was fine with me, since I had enough excitement when my idiot husband decided to waltz out to the tip of a rock jutting over the rim of the canyon and ask me to take his picture. I’m surprised I even managed it, my heart was pounding so loudly and I felt physically sick. I’d post the picture for you all, but it was pre-digital, so I’ll I have to see if I can scrounge it up from our boxes of photos.

So, here are some interesting facts for you. It takes between 4-6 hours to hike the South Kaibab trail to the canyon floor/Colorado river. And that hike down has an elevation loss of about 4360 ft. There’s a cool suspension bridge that stretches 440 feet across the Coloardo and looks a mite bit scary from the pictures I’ve managed to dig up.

Oh, and they don’t recommend you hike all the way down and back up in one day. Which poses a slight problem for my characters, since I assumed they would hike down and back up in the same day. So, now I’m faced with the possibility of having them spend the night down in the Grand Canyon, or press the boundaries of believability by having them hike down and back in one ‘loop’.

Would a frantic mother want to waste another day/night by waiting until morning to hike out of the Canyon? And what the heck would uncommunicative Keith and distraught Grace do during that time?

I’m sure you all would have some good ideas for me, ;), but I can assure you, they’re not ready for that just yet.