Sigh. I’m still feeling very unsettled in the wake of Eldest Son’s departure to university, especially after investigating flight costs and realizing it would cost something like $400 after taxes and surcharges to bring him home for Canadian Thanksgiving (usually around October 10th). And the flight is under an hour! Holy price-gouging, Batman. E.S. said when we parted that he was fully prepared not to come home until Christmas, and you can bet I’m springing the bucks for that two-week holiday. But two nights? We shall see… (In the event you all think I’m heartless, I do have a friend in his university town with two kids he grew up with who would ensure he was well taken care of).

Just before leaving to take E.S. to university, I wrapped up a chapter on the WIP that left me firmly in the middle of the book with a major turning point and a hook. You’d think the next chapter and scene would be a breeze to write, then, huh? Um, not so much. I have a lot of fast-drafted scenes for this story, and I’ve spent the last couple of days (after re-reading those first 12 chapters to plant my brain in the story again) physically moving the drafted scenes around in the manuscript, trying to strike the right balance between plot, mystery, development of romance, and characterization. I think what I’ve moved makes sense, and it’s time to begin revising the first of the two transferred scenes and see if I’m right.

Often, when I begin a new chapter or even a new scene, I walk around in a haze for a day or two, during which I feel super-anxious. I know the brain is churning, and in a way I can actually feel it churning. The churning is the anxiety (some might call it creativity). Right behind my forehead. Agh! Every time this happens, I curse my writing process, but I shouldn’t curse it, I should embrace it. It appears I need to go through the churning in order to successfully write and plot the next few scenes. I often blame this process on Elle Muse, because she’s the one standing inside my head laughing at my bruised forehead! However, she’s also the one doing all the work right now.

And you thought being a writer was all fun and games. Think again. It’s freakin’ hard work.

Well, there you go. I’ve begun a new chapter of my life with E.S. leaving home, and I’m beginning not only a new chapter of my WIP but a new direction, thanks to that major turning point. Wish me luck. For the next week or so, I’m pretty sure I’ll need it.

Eldest Son is ensconced in his university of choice, and Youngest Son began (local) college today. Settling in E.S. required a trip out of town, but I’ve met two of his three roommates and ensured he has enough canned foods to see him through “learning to cook,” so I’m doing okay missing the little twerp. Keeping busy is the key. Today, I thoroughly cleaned the boys’ bathroom (I’m talking taking everything out, mopping everything down, scatter-painting—I believe the word for this activity is “touching up,” but it felt more like scatter-painting to me—the walls and baseboards, then moving everything back in). Now, only Y.S. is responsible for the state of the bathroom. Let’s see how that works out…

For your amusement, taken from Avery Beck’s blog:

What Your Name Says About You

Your name says that you are mostly: Inspiring but melodramatic Your name also says you are: Artistic but extreme Unconventional but unstable Shrewd but overbearing

Hmmm. I love that “Cindy” is “inspiring,” but “melodramatic?” Give me a freaking break!!! Who the hell is this quiz to say I’m melodramatic???? I think I’ll go cry buckets.

“Artistic but extreme.” Okay, I know there’s such a thing as extreme sports, but…extreme artistry? At least it says I’m artistic, which is good, considering I’m a writer. I’ll try to look upon “extreme” as a compliment, too. “Extremely” entertaining. “Extreme,” mad writerly skills, yada.

“Unconventional but unstable.” Yes, I might fall off my chair any second. I admit I don’t have the greatest sense of balance, which undoubtedly accounts for the “unstable.”

“Shrewd but overbearing.” Another insult packed with a compliment. Well, some people don’t understand my sense of humor, so maybe I’m overbearing, but it’s not my fault. I didn’t name me Cindy.

Just for fun, I then typed in my pen name:

What Your Name Says About You

Your name says that you are mostly: Intuitive but high strung Your name also says you are: Ambitious but stubborn Dynamic but aggressive Passionate but flighty

Interesting, my pen name shares the exact same characteristics as Avery’s name…

Taking the whole experiment one step further, I typed in my pen name’s blog nickname (”Penny” for the uneducated). That results in :

What Your Name Says About You

Your name says that you are mostly: Commanding but aloof Your name also says you are: Passionate but flighty Unconventional but unstable Perceptive but paranoid

Wow. “Cindy” and “Penny” are both “unconventional but unstable,” while “Penny” and my actual pen name are both “passionate but flighty.” I think it’s safe to say we can determine I am:

Unconventional
Unstable
Passionate
Flighty

If that’s not a creative personality, what is?

How do you fare on this quiz? Take it…if you dare.

Have a great Labor Day weekend, everyone!

Why am I encouraging you to visit the Lys Blues site and vote for Dale? Well, for one, I have, and I did. Small Town van Gogh is a wonderful CD, and independent musicians deserve our support! Also, I do admit I’m biased, but, as we all know, subjectivity plays a part in the creative arts, so there. As some of you who followed my old on-line diary, Trials & Triumphs, might remember, Dale’s CD features a song inspired by my grandfather, William “Duke” Procter, who, when he died in 2005 at the age of 106, was the last veteran in my province to have served in The Great War (a.k.a. WW I). Dale never met my grandfather, which to me makes the fact that Duke inspired the song, Over 100 Years, all that more poignant (scroll down Dale’s lyric page to read the lyrics).

You can listen to Over 100 Years in its entirety on Dale’s website. Click on the song title in the Listen to the Album widget on the right of the album cover, then click the Play icon and wait for the song to load. It does take a little while to load, so be patient.

I’m also quite partial to Send Monica Away, No One Lives Here Anymore, If I Come Back, and Idalene. Dale also does a nice rendition of the Springsteen classic, My Hometown.

Visit Dale’s CDs page to sample songs from Small Town van Gogh and In My Rearview Mirror: A Story from a Small Gaspe Town. You can buy Small Town van Gogh at several on-line retailers or directly from Dale’s website.

My baby is eighteen today. Ain’t he cute?

…you take in your watch to have the battery replaced, say “Cindy” will return in ten minutes, and the twenty-something clerk frowns at you and asks, “Sydney?”

…you check in on American politics and realize John McCain’s wife is named Cindy, and you’re pretty sure she’s over forty, too.

…you realize Richard Gere and Kevin Costner both divorced their Cindys years and years and a light age ago…and you remember that you liked them because they married Cindys (smart men). (at the time).

…”Sydney” to you is the name of a 60-year-old skinny balding guy with red hair and glasses, who looks an awful lot like Woody Allen or that guy who got ate by one of the dinosaurs in the original Jurassic Park movie (I think while he was going to the can?), whereas “Sydney” to your sons is a hot chick in a short skirt.

…when you sign your emails, half the time you type “Cidny” and have to backspace and correct yourself.

…you’re considering taking Sydney as a pen name if you ever write YA, so you can be cool, too.

…you decide Sidney Crosby has a girly name.