Co-hosting IWSG & A New WIP is Born

Aloha,



Thanks to El Gran Capitán Alejandro for the chance to co-host the Insecure Writers’ Support Group … and after last month, I too, am so very glad we’re not changing the format or the name of ISWG…

Wait a sec – whoa Betsy…

...Speaks “ISWG” out loud…

Ah knickers…

C'mon, man, it's IWSG.

Say it again… IWSG

One more time... IWSG !!!

(Coughs)… I mean the IWSG.

Anyhoo, it’s always a pleasure to help his Cavanaughness, and I’ll zip through much of the current IWSG membership alongside my co-hosts, the wonderful Nancy Thompson and the delightful Heather Gardner.

For once, my issue is simple (PTL, I hear many say :)

I started WIP#2 Monday.

I can’t share much about the story, except to say it’s about this great, white Poodle that takes over a beach in New Jersey and creates havoc over one, long summer season.

(It’s set in the 1970s – and my working title is PAWS – but I’m not sold on it yet.)

Seriously though, if I can recap where my writing head is:

·         WIP#1, a memoir, heads to a professional editor this week for final polishing, so things look good there.

·         The days as a weekly and daily beat reporter are well behind me.

·         My blog is doing well (and I remain forever grateful when non-blood-relatives leave comments – and beg forgiveness for my crassness when unable to respond in kind.)

This leaves me, for the first time in my ten-year writing career, at the beginning of a project that is all fiction – and all mine.

So, I’m writing what I want – like I've always wanted – but now it’s also time to discover if I can walk the walk.

Honest, I’m *NOT* fishing for compliments, but this is the Insecure Writers Support Group, so I wonder:

Am I a good enough Writer?

Can I create a great story that generates more interest and buzz than the three coffee machines I unsuccessfully tried to sell at our recent garage sale?

My deadline to finish the first draft is Halloween, so I suppose we’ll see how scary the writing is, right. :)

###

Thanks again to El Gran Capitán Cavanaugh and now, off I go walkabout…

(PS: Since Monday, I’ve found myself standing over the small amount of first draft pages, chanting “My Precious! O my Precious!” in a strange, Gollum-esque voice. It's kinda weird, but I’m sure it will pass once I get to chapter two... Right? :)

"You Know You're A Parent When..." & IWSG Wednesday

Aloha,

Before the latest chapter in my real-world WIP (What Improbable Parenting), this Wednesday is Insecure Writers Support Group (known by many as an anagram similar to ISWG :)

Along with the jolly old chap called Cavanaugh, I’ll be co-hosting with Nancy Thompson and Heather Gardner.
Hope to see you there :)


###

(Older chapters in my You Know When You're A Parent... series are here.

And now, ay, caramba!  My poor children…


You know you're a parent when...

 

...you forget to check expiration dates on some of the stuff in the pantry...

 ...which makes you slightly more understanding after the Sons said the chicken "tasted funny."

You're not sure, but it may have been the seven-year-old lemon spices you added as an afterthought...

 

 

...you watch No. 1 Son playing with some sticks and wonder what is he doing?

 

 

"It's a big letter 'I' and a small letter 'I,'" he said.

"That's awesome," you say.

... and then look behind you - it's too quiet...

 

                          ...only to see No. 2 Son absolutely enjoying the fruits of No. 3 Son's labor.

You know you're blessed to be a parent in Hawaii when...

 

No. 1 Son hands you a long piece of blue fabric, about twelve feet long, with tassles on both sides.

"What's this, Papa?"

"It's a scarf."

"What's a scarf?"

"Well, it has many uses. For example, it can keep your neck or head warm in winter."

"Can I use it as a lasso?"

"Sure..."

(Postscript: I've followed the local papers, but to date have read no reports of ex-rustled cattle found suffering from heat exhaustion of the neck or head.) 

 ...you realize your initial retirement plan (that all three Sons make it to the Big Leagues) may need a little work.

...you pat yourself on the back for coming up with a one-bowl solution to the regular Movie Night requests Popcorn and Lucky Charms:

 

                                                       (Ha! Mrs. Koopmans raised no fools!!!)

 



                      ...only to later remember why you *hate* popcorn and messy charms :)

You know you're a parent in a nice restaurant when... you take satisfaction in hearing other children screaming louder than yours. (Much louder, he smirked.)

(This is quickly followed by a silent prayer of forgiveness when that table suddenly leaves (hence the screaming) and you are now that table with the three ravenous and upset kids...

...you need to give the boys a sticker for listening to what the lady had to say - no matter her age :)

...you're a Soccer Papa when, as the new volunteer head coach, you arrange a Parents' Meeting  ahead of the upcoming Under-6 soccer season.

You've thought about this for days.

The handouts are printed.

The practice/drill binders are made - two of them, in case one gets lost!

The game plan is ready.

 

IT'S ON!!!

 

You will stride confidently into the meeting - wearing clean, pressed athletic gear (synonymous with your idea of a Soccer Coach with a plan!)

You will not forget your new stopwatch and whistle (complete with yellow fluorescent cord.)

 

Unfortunately, you're held up for more than an hour at No. 1 Son's new school, filling out triplicate forms in pen (and pencil!)

This unscheduled stop results in you leaving your first impression outfit at home while you lead a short, scatter-brained and emotionally drained meeting (pencils?) in a sweaty green T-shirt and an orange ball cap.

 (The kids had fun though, which of course, is the point :)

And finally..... you know you are one terrified, OUT-OF-YOUR-MIND with worry parent...

...until you realize (thank you, Lord Jesus!) that No. 3 Son is *not* the newest extra on a very popular AMC show.

He just really, really likes chowing down on red markers :)

PS... no children were harmed in the making of this chapter - but no joke, I *nearly* needed an adult diaper when I came around the patio corner and saw the above-mentioned No. 3. Son :)

A Knight of the Cosmic Laire. Ye Gads! What an Honour!

Ye olde aloha,

 (He rides into the town square, the hooves of his huge, white horse click-clacking off the dome-shaped cobblestones. Jumping from the sweating steed, he gathers the waiting townsfolk around him.)

“Greetings to you, my Lords, Ladies, squires, fair maidens, serfs – and Gary.

I stand before you, aye, a little taller today, the recipient of a new honour...”

...He pauses to snap his fingers.

Eight manly men in brown tights and powdered wigs break rank from the crowd and form a 16th century version of ye flashe mob.

Using those long, trumpet things with banner ads hanging down (the only one he can read is for White Castle) the musicians play a wee melody of something triumphant-sounding.

He holds up one bejeweled hand – then lowers it to power off ye new tablet. The empty hand rises again. The trumpeters trumpet no more and slither back into the crowd - as if they were never there!

“Ye friends, I am now a Knight of the Cosmic Table.”

He waves down a smattering round of applause from the open windows of Cavanaugh's Tavern.

“Sir David Powers King himself bestowed this honour upon me during this past week of the Summer Solstice.

Now, I must impeach upon you my desire that ye please visit Sir David's Cosmic Laire to hear tell a mighty interview between his Sir-ness and I upon the ceremonious announcement of my Knighting.”

(Jumps back on weary steed, who looks up as if to say, my gosh, Sir Chunky, I hope we’re going to Subway.)

“Hi-Ho, Zinc Silver! Away!”

###

David Powers King

 

"Sir" David Powers King will release his debut novel, WOVEN, with Michael R. Jensen, Oct. 8, 2013 by Cedar Fort / SweetWater Press.

 

Last Week to Enter WRiTE CLUB (+ "Inspiring Blogger")

Aloha,

I really, really wanted to take a moment to mention "two things.”

Pheww. OK. Now that’s taken care of, ahhhhh, I feel so much better :)
 

Elsewhere, in our top story today, DL Hammons is hosting his third annual WRiTE CLUB.

There is still a week to email your 500-word (max) entry and all submissions remain anonymous.

(Which is awesome because I’m having the dickens of a time whether to submit my Victorian-era, Zombie-Slasher organic (yet romantic) poem using the alias of Morgan, DPK or Elise? :)

(what?)

PS… DL and the two previous winners of WRiTE CLUB, Tiana Smith and Mark Hough did a fantastic job of explaining the contest at no-hyperlink-needed Alex’s this past Friday.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Beverly Fox was very kind to recently award me a “Very Inspiring Blogger” Award.

Accordingly I am to reveal seven random things about ones self….

·         As a 17-year-old, I was arrested in Magaluf, Spain and spent at least five hours “communicating my desire” to not pay a $50 bribe (never mind being brave and not giving in to corruption - it was all the drinking money I had left!)

Upon my eventual “escape” (sans payment of any kind – score!) I eventually made it back to our hotel at 6 a.m...

...Where I *fully* expected each of my six mates to be busy coordinating pre-Internet emails called "faxes" (!) while working the phones to and from the Irish embassy - all in a valiant effort to secure my release. It was then very surprising to find our room empty and dark.

I was the first one home!

·         I adore the ocean (any of them) – or any wave-making lakes, (hello Michael Di CHICAGO :), but don’t need to do much *in* the water. Listening to the waves is enough.

·         My favorite number is 56 (I also have no clue why, but there you go…)

·         The only sport I truly, truly love is baseball. I’m a die-hard Angels fan who is currently on bended knee. I can’t *wait* for Spring Training 2014. (Have you seen the newest horror movie, Nightmare at Anaheim Stadium?)

·         My first real job as a growing lad in Dublin was “apprentice truck driver.” We used to drive all over Ireland to change/replace those old linen towel machines in toilets and restaurant kitchens.

One day, my driver/friend was teaching me how to drive (ahead of my road test) when I reversed into a stationary car. (It wasn't a Mercedes, but could have been a Hallmark.)

I was fired hours later.

·         However, if I had gotten my license, I would have happily settled in Dublin with some “young wan” and would *never* have asked my Da if it was OK to go live in Amsterdam with my Dutch Oma.

But, after the crash, Da said sure. Jobs were scarce in 1989, why not go live in Amsterdam (as a nineteen-year-old youngster) for a few months? (Place original yellow smiley face HERE.)

·         Thus, if I hadn’t of moved to Amsterdam, my Wanderlust gene might still be dormant – and I guarantee I wouldn’t be here in Hawaii with my beautiful family, twenty-three years later. (Thank you, Car Driver for parking where you did that day – and I’m sorry, again!)

 Normal rules of the Inspiring Blogger award dictate at least five nominees. I have only one, but if you’ve ever read Green Monkey Tales, you’ll know why...

Shannon, you are an amazing woman, wife, writer and mother.
You have my prayers and best wishes, and I only wish I had a hundredth of your will power and strength.