Love's Labors Lost? Not to Worry...

Tragedy strikes every writer’s work-in-progress sooner or later. In spite of all your efforts to be careful and to back up your work daily, you will (take your pick):

• hit the delete key by accident and the autosave function will save the accidental version before your fingers, paralyzed with shock and horror, can click undo.
• somehow save your just-revised Act 2 as Act 1, leaving you with two copies of Act 2 (although one copy is named Act 1) and overwriting Act 1 (which you also revised today, or maybe last week and forgot to back it up.) Self-flagellation begins (“I wouldda, couldda, shouldda...”)
• have no idea what you did, but the chapter you wrote yesterday has totally disappeared. Trying to suppress the panic swarming in your chest like a cloud of angry bees, you look in nearby folders and at the bottom of the document library list, but the whole chapter has gone into a black hole, apparently never to return. The Search function can’t even find it. Doom looms, as inevitable as winter.
• have no idea why, but your computer tells you your short story file is corrupted and can’t be recovered. You run to the bathroom and throw up the leftover Chinese take-out you had for breakfast.

What’s a heartbroken writer to do? 

Write the paragraph/Act/chapter/story a second time.

 

I hear sobs in Alaska, wails in Australia, sniffles in Alabama—even moans coming from the fourth planet circling Aldereen in the Dragonfly Nebula. (Okay, I invented that last place to make my point.) This is not what a writer mourning her lost labor-of-love wants to be told. 

So go ahead and cry, scream into your pillow, whine to your writer friends, take a walk, dig out some chocolate, shake it off, suck it up. Then don your Super Writer panties and write the passage again. 

Believe it or not, you can do this. And the end result will be surprisingly similar, if not identical, to the original. I know this from personal experience.

When I lost an entire chapter right after I polished my work of art, I was devastated. I so did not want to write that chapter again! I’d labored over this part of my manuscript for eleven days to make it as close to perfect as I possibly could. How could I create anything that good again?

But what choice did I have? Trash the whole book? Unthinkable! So I wrote my lost chapter again. I was positive this new version was not as good as the one I had lost, but it would have to do.

Three months later, a miracle happened. I found the original chapter. I believe Computer Gremlins stole my chapter, then returned it for reasons unfathomable to mortal men. 

Imagine my shock when I compared the two versions of my chapter side-by-side and discovered they were nearly identical. Word-for-word identical. For most of twenty-three pages, identical.

This didn’t happen because I remembered what I’d written. I didn’t, except in a general, synopsis-like sense. I wrote the chapter the same way the second time because my creative cauldron, Girls in the Basement, Muse, subconscious, or whatever-you-want to call it is a creature of habit. There may be  many roads to Oz, but my mind likes the path of least resistance, be it yellow brick or black asphalt.

 So when something like this happens to you (and it will; it’s as inevitable as human fallibility and bad computer magic), take heart. Chances are, you’ll write your lost words a second time with only very minor changes. Heck, you may even improve on the original version.

Have you lost chunks of your writing? If so, what did you do?

Everyone loves a long weekend, or what is this Labor Day thing for anyhow?

Labor Day is one of those holidays that we celebrate without really thinking about what it means. Everyone loves a long weekend! And in the US, it's the end of summer, that last weekend of fun before the kids go back to school and parents return to sanity, at least for a while.

Where I come from, in southern Australia, Labour Day is on a Monday in March. We used it to hold the Aussie Formula One grand prix. In other parts of Australia, it's in October. As fitting for a holiday celebrating the eight-hour working day, everyone gets the day off…

But they don't, do they? Not really. Great if you're a schoolteacher, or work in a bank or a government office. But retail workers must snigger at the idea of a 'public holiday' – when are the stores and supermarkets ever closed? People who run their own businesses – writers, for example – know that the eight-hour working day is a misty-eyed myth. Same with corporate minions who bill clients by the hour. Even a 'lowly' admin worker takes calls after hours and sends emails from home. Do you even know a single person who truly works only eight hours per day?

All these decades later, have we lost sight of what Labour Day is celebrating? Those in charge would like us to go on believing we still enjoy the freedoms won by our forebears, and we're happy to go along with it, so long as we think we're getting rewards in return. Plenty of people celebrate other holidays they don't really believe in. Why not this one?

Which leads me to my obligatory segue into the paranormal. Urban fantasy, including steampunk, is often concerned with class divides. Vampire aristocrats, a seedy fairy subculture, the alpha-beta-gamma dynamics of a werewolf pack. Our heroes and heroines are revolutionaries and troublemakers, or, if they do work for the Man, they usually uncover some conspiracy that threatens to topple the regime. But even the most law-abiding UF protagonists have a cynical streak. The apple's rotten to the core, and we get the idea that they kind of knew it all along—but hey, a girl's gotta eat. They might be toppling the regime in their spare time, but they're also perpetuating it.

It's a bit like Labour Day: we all know we're being conned, right? The eight-hour day is gone, probably forever. We've traded it for more money, globalisation, 24/7 connectivity, and the Good Old Cause of making profits for other people. We may not be groaning through 18-hour shifts down a filthy coal mine, but we're sure as hell not getting 8 hours of work-free recreation before bed.

But we celebrate Labo(u)r Day anyway. Because hey, it's a day off. Might as well enjoy it!

So what's your favourite holiday? Do you like your holidays to mean something significant? Or would you rather go the way of Great Britain, where they just have random 'bank holidays'?

Gratitude and Labor Day

by Christy Carlyle

Like most writers with a full-time job doing something other than writing, I long for the day when I can devote myself exclusively to telling great stories. I grouse about how much my day job tires me out and prevents me from doing what I’m truly called to do. During a recent writer’s meeting, we discussed our motivations and goals as writers. I didn’t have to think twice about the fact that one of my main motivations is to quit my day job.

What does that have to do with Labor Day and gratitude, you might ask. Well, I don’t necessarily remember Labor Day as a reason for family get-togethers. In the Midwest where I grew up, Labor Day usually marks the beginning of cooler weather and the start of the rich, stunning array of colors that autumn puts on for the season. By the first of September, our family cookouts were a summer memory and everyone was getting ready for fall, winter, and the start of the new school year.

As an admitted history geek, I usually seek to understand the history and meaning behind a given holiday or event. The history behind Labor Day has to do with something I often bemoan: my eight hour workday. In the U.S., the holiday was proposed as a day to honor workers. However, its origins are tied up with the Haymarket Affair, a tragic event in Gilded Age Chicago that I recently researched for an historical mystery I’m writing. During the event, workers rallied in support of an eight hour workday. The assembly was mostly peaceful, but when a bomb was thrown at police, the ensuing riot resulted in police and civilian deaths and many injuries.

Just a little over a century ago, the notion of an eight workday was controversial. Most workers could expected to work ten hours per day, twelve hour days, or perhaps more. The work week was often six days long, not five, and children were often working such grueling hours right alongside adult co-workers.

Around Labor Day, I try to complain less about my day job and take a moment to remember how lucky I am to work an eight hour workday. Yes, I’d rather be writing, but, truth be told, those eight hours do still allow me enough time to write. I just need to be self-disciplined enough to get up early or take my laptop and write during my lunch break. Then again, and perhaps contradicting everything I’ve just said, I do love that I get Labor Day holiday off at my day job. More time to write! 

www.christycarlyle.com

Summer Fun at the Water Park

By Opal Carew

This month’s topic is about Labour Day weekend, such as memories about family traditions or trips. I don’t like crowds and avoid them if at all possible, so I tend to avoid doing trips on Labour Day weekend. Also, with the kids going back to school the following week I’ve always preferred to have a nice settled weekend before launching into the hectic fall schedule.

We do have an August tradition in our family, though. It all started after we had our first child. This tiny baby kept my husband and I pretty busy, as all babies do, so after a year with no time to ourselves, we decided a little couple’s time would be a good idea. My sister-in-law agreed to take care of our son while hubby and I went away for an overnight trip. We had nothing definite in mind, but decided going to our neighbouring province, Quebec, would be a nice change. We live about two hours from Montreal, but we didn’t want to go to the city, so we found a nice bed-and-breakfast about a half hour north of Montreal in the Laurentian mountains.

It was a lovely place and the setting was gorgeous, but we wanted a little more excitement and discovered a water park nearby. Since we both love water parks, we decided to check it out.

Well, we were astounded. The park is part of a ski resort in the mountains. You actually take chair lifts to the top of the mountain for several of the water rides. One is a white water rafting experience, but I find that one a bit bumpy and cold. The one I really love is where you ride a tube through a series of water slides down the face of the mountain, connected by pools of water. It is wild and seriously fun!

It usually takes about twenty minutes to travel down the mountain. There’s a mild current in the pools, so your tube gets caught in a circular motion rather than going right down the next slide. Then more tubes come down and bump into the tubes already in the pool. Suddenly, you find yourself gliding over the edge and on down. See a video of this water slide (click on ride #11 on the map.)

My husband and I were thrilled to find this park and it immediately became a tradition. Every year we would get someone to take our kids (we had a second son within two years) and we’d head off to Mont Saint- Sauveur and our favourite water park. Once the kids were old enough, we started making it a family affair. Soon they invited friends to join us. Since it’s an hour and a half away, we’d drive up early in the morning, then when the park closed at 7 p.m. we’d go to a restaurant for dinner, then drive home. It makes for a long day, but one we thoroughly enjoy.

Once the kids were old enough to drive, they’d sometimes go on their own, with a carload of friends, but we always make time to go as a family, too. This year my eldest son graduated from university and he’s taking a gap year to earn money so he can go to the UK for his Masters next year. That might be preceded by an internship in Belgium next summer, so that means there might be an interruption to our tradition, but I hope it continues once he returns.

I think it’s great having traditions like this with shared adventures, and it helps a family stay close.

Do you enjoy water parks? Do you have any unusual ones to tell us about?

http://www.OpalCarew.com
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Labor Day and Transitions

I grew up on the east coast and back there, school started right after Labor Day. Since it was a holiday, Dad was home and that meant we got the grill fired up. It also meant one final day at the beach.  As long as the tide was in, we were at the beach. It helps that it was only two blocks away. We all trooped down to the beach safe in the knowledge that even if our mother wasn’t there, someone’s mother was always available to keep an eye on things.

September is viewed by many as a time of transitions.  It’s hard to talk about fall when it’s going to be 110 here in a few days. I’ll give it a shot.

One of my favorite things about fall was the leaves changing. Yes, we could take rides up to Vermont and New Hampshire for some fantastic views. But my favorite was tramping through the piles of red, yellow and green leaves that spilled onto the sidewalk from someone’s front yard.

 Here in Southern Arizona we do have season changes, just not as severe. It gets cold, it does snow, just usually up in the mountains. It can stay there as far as I’m concerned.  I still like the fall, the temperature goes down under 100. This makes me happy, even if there are no colorful piles of leaves to walk though.

What is your favorite thing about Labor day and how do you handle transitions?

Labor Day

The origin of Labor Day in the USA was when a machinist, Matthew Maguire, who served as the secretary of the Central Labor Union, proposed the holiday in 1882.  This would be and is a day to recognize and show appreciation for the workers.

My state, Oregon, was the first state to make it an official holiday in 1887. It would take seven more years until the Federal Government made Labor Day an official holiday for the country.

Labor Day is considered the last big weekend for summer.  School used to start right after Labor Day, but now starts at various dates across the nation.  For many years it was considered unfashionable to wear white or seersucker after Labor Day.  My how times have changed!

The ways to celebrate this holiday are endless.  For many it is the last day to go camping, water skiing or taking a short trip with the family.  Many towns celebrate with parades, picnics, barbecues, firework displays, and fairs.

Of course, not everyone gets Labor Day off or a Labor free weekend.  Department stores have one of their biggest sales over Labor Day.  Plus, there are any number of businesses that do not close their doors over Labor Day weekend.

I must say it is nice to have a holiday between July fourth and Thanksgiving.  That’s what I like.  Especially when I worked full time, it was a blessing to have Labor Day off!

This Labor Day I’m hoping for company and some good times.

What are your plans?

Labor Day?? I thought that was Every Day

Hola!! It's B. A. Binns again here with the Genre-Istas for August. (Where has the time gone?)

There’s an ancient cliché – Man works from sun to sun but a woman’ work is never done.

Try being a writer.

A woman writer.

I blogged once about the perils of being your own boss. Before I became a full-time  author I had a few bossy bosses, the Jean-Luc Picard “make-it-so” kind. (Harry, if you read this I don’t mean you.)

Now that I’m in charge of me, I have the worst boss possible.  I rarely pay myself. Lets be real, most of us lower-level authors earn way below minimum wage.  Worse yet, I don’t seem to believe in giving myself a vacation. I rarely even take Sundays off.

Last Sunday was an exception. The end of July brought the end to editing a book I’ve been working on for years. I started it in 2009, out it aside to work on and complete three other novels and a set of short stories,  and finally brought out of mothballs earlier this year.  Now, with Labor Day approaching, not only have I sent my newest novel, BEING GOD (ISBN 978-0-9881821-0-3)  out to the editor, I have finished my newest book, an adult romance titled  THE LAST LOGAN so it's about to go out to my agent. 

I took a day off.

Went to the movies to watch, of all things, Magic Mike. I swear I didn’t know it was about a group of hard-working male strippers until I was inside and saw Matthew McConaughey in ALL his magnificent glory.  But it's more than just beefcake, at heart it’s a story about a guy working like ten different jobs to make his dream come true: his own custom furniture making business. He truely works hard for his money. It's a great girls night out film, and I spent most of the movie rooting for him to achieve his goal.  Then rooting for him to grow up and realize there's a more important goal right in front of him.

It was like a real vacation.

But now, back to my own work.

Did I mention that writing was also a life of solitude?

Tell me what you guys do on your vacations.  If I finish my next project in the foreseeable future, I could use some ideas.

And feel free to visit with  me on my website, babinns.com or my personal blog, barbarabinns.com.

Labor Day Memories by Paty Jager

Photo of Wallowa Mountains up Joseph Creek

Since I kick off the month at Romancing the Genres this month’s topic is a bit early but Labor Day weekends were our final summer fling when I was growing up.

 We lived two and a half miles up the county road out of Lostine. This road continued another ten miles beyond us to end in the heart of the Wallowa Mountains. Many nature seekers; backpackers, horse packers, fishermen traveled the road in the summer months to get to the base of the trails taking them farther into the mountains and to the high lakes.

We always went camping on Labor Day weekend and didn’t have to deal with highway traffic. We’d load up the tents and camp gear on Wednesday evening and head up the river to a spot that wasn’t a real campground but was flat and near the river. We’d set up tents and chairs and make it look like someone was camped then head home until my parents got off work on Friday night. Then my brothers and I and mom and dad would head up and shortly my mom’s best friend, a divorced woman with five boys would arrive with tents and a small camper and some years there would be another family from the clinic where my mom and her friend worked that might join us.

The weekend was spent wading in the water, walking through the forest, or for me, reading in the great outdoors. Because my dad was a little league coach and my brothers as well as three of the Thompson boys were on his teams over the years we always had one game of baseball, using whatever we could find for bases. Dad always was the umpire/catcher. The year someone threw the ball to home and it glanced off the garbage can lid and gave my dad a black eye was the last time we played baseball at camp.

Photo of Eagle Cap Wilderness taken from my Dad's

One summer, when I was twelve or thirteen, we hauled the horses( one for mom, one for my younger brother, one for my dad, and a pack horse) to the end of the road. My older brother and I and my brand new dachshund puppy walked(I carried the puppy most of the way)  the five miles up the trail to Minam Lake. It was a beautiful lake. Crystal clear water, abundant grass and forest around it. When we woke the next morning, there was two inches of snow and it was still coming down. We ate a quick breakfast and headed down the mountain.  Two days later the horse my mom was riding was found dead in the pasture. The mare was over 30 years old.

While our kids were young we always made it a point to go to Lostine and camp with my family on Labor Day weekend. Since my mom passed away nearly twenty years ago, the Labor Day campouts discontinued.  Now with our kids spread out, we usually spend the weekend and week after at Princeton. The Harney county fair is that week so we work on the place and attend the small town county fair.

Do you have good memories of Labor Day Weekend? 

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www.patyjager.blogspot.com

Photos taken by: Paty Jager