Deborah Crombie’s Necessary As Blood

I finished Deborah Crombie’s Necessary As Blood on the bus today–it was a fabulous read, that kept me up too late for a couple of nights–and as I was finishing it, I realized one of the things I like about the series, in addition to the ones I’d discovered originally: I like the relationships between the characters. Not just Gemma and Duncan, and their children, but the ones they have with their coworkers and friends, and the relationships those people have with each other. I also read the books to see how those relationships develop, to see what happens next.

Realizing that tonight made me realize that I love the same thing in my two guilty-pleasure TV shows, NCIS and Bones, and it’s one of the many things I loved about Battlestar Galactica. I’m not sure this has any meaning for my writing, but I suspect it does. I know that I’m interested in the connections my characters have with each other. There’s a line in U2’s great song, One: “We get to carry each other.” I think that’s true; I think we carry each other through our friendships. Maybe that’s something I need to hold in mind as I keep scribbling away.

April 10, 2009: Wasted

Today was a work holiday because the NYSE was closed (as it is every Good Friday). You would think this would be a perfect opportunity to get buckets of work done.

Um, no.

Strangely, sometimes when I have a wide-open day, I get nothing done. Today, I spent some quality time with the beloved, which is never a waste of time, but then I spent several hours watching NCIS, my guilty pleasure. The worst part is that most of them were Kate episodes, and Kate just gets on my nerves.

Truthfully, I think my day off happened to hit at a time when the well is nearly empty. I did write the second half of a very short scene, but that was all, just 200 or so words, not much more than a page. It was everything I had in my head, too. I’ve been so productive that this is aggravating, but I can’t be impatient with myself; this is how it works for me, floods and droughts, floods and droughts.

So was the day wasted? I don’t think so. I spent time with someone I love, always a good thing, and I was wise enough, for once, not to force myself to try writing from a dry well, and when I didn’t produce enough, I didn’t berate myself for it. I’m frustrated with my process, but accepting of it, and that’s a nice place to be.