boo hoo who

it's halloween. wanna hear something scary?

my manuscript is in pieces.

gasp! eeeek! noooooo!

t'is true. my agent and i discussed a few small changes, and instead i went in with a hacksaw. it's necessary. only, i'm cutting as if i were pruning a plant for the first time. snipping, lobbing off here and there, without knowing what i'm doing or how it will affect it later.

this is a natural step. it all comes back together eventually. it's happened during every other novel i've written. part of it is waiting for that moment of inspiration, the mental glue, to find me. that one sentence while i'm on the bus or taking a walk or even staring at my computer, that leads to that one paragraph, that fills in the plot hole, that fixes everything.

so no worries (she tells herself). it's in there.

in the meantime, share one of your day-in-the-life scary stories with me. because until that inspiration strikes, i need all the distraction i can get my hands on.

it's begun. i'm on the last edit of my manuscript.

after an hour and a half talk with my agent yesterday, i moved to the stage in the process of my writing, where i diagram the entire novel and sloppily tape it to my wall. it's only towards the end of working on a manuscript that i feel like i need to see the whole thing laid out. over the course of the next few weeks other slips of paper will accumulate on my grungy white wall as well. character notes. bits of dialogue that came to me at work and are written on receipts and napkins. transcribed text messages i sent myself so i wouldn't forget brilliant such-and-such idea on the bus.

i love this stage.

when i think about it, i love every stage of writing. i could just as easily say: what's better than starting a new work? the wide open palate, when your characters are full of possibility and even you don't know what's going to happen.

but truly, there's nothing like being so close to the end (okay, maybe actually being finished and on submission is best). right now, the balance of my book, how amazing it is or not, is all up to me. it's the last edit that lets you knock socks off or lets you barely make a splash and get roundly rejected. the last edit is all about finesse. it's about how much you want this. how much you can extend yourself creatively to unlock that "it" factor that makes a book memorably great and hopefully publishable. everything rides on the last edit.

intense, right?

so this is where i'll be for the foreseeable future. riding the emotional THIS WILL BE THE BEST BOOK EVER / I *sob* CAN'T *sob* DO THIS wave of final edits. blog posts will be shorter. some days they might not come at all (am i the only person who regularly blogs three times a week? why, corrie, why do you do these things to yourself?)

so wish me luck. or better yet, wish me getting it just right.

row row row in circles

i got back to nature this weekend by taking a canoe trip... on the Gowanus Canal.

no, this was not the canoe we took.
i think this boats only here for decorative purposes.
it draws your eye away from the sludge it sits in.

now if you live in Brooklyn, you know about the Gowanus. it's a twisting waterway that separates some of the most desirable neighborhoods in Brooklyn. it's also the most polluted canal in the world.

back in the 1800's the canal was built on the cheap with no locks to flush it. there's only one entrance that fresh water can flow in through. engineers thought this would be enough to appropriately flush out the canal.

they were wrong.

basically, for hundreds of years, the water in the Gowanus has just sat there. here's a copypasted quote from Wikipedia (great research, huh?) that drives home how gross the water is.

"Water quality studies have found the concentration of oxygen in the canal to be just 1.5 parts per million, well below the minimum 4 parts per million needed to sustain life.^[6] With the high level of development in the Gowanus watershed area, excessive nitrates and pathogens are constantly flowing into the canal, further depleting the oxygen and creating breeding grounds for the pathogens responsible for the canal's odor.
The opaqueness of the Gowanus water obstructs sunlight to one third of the six feet needed for aquatic plant growth. Rising gas bubbles betray the decomposition of sewage sludge that on a warm, sultry day produces the canal's notable ripe stench. The murky depths of the canal conceal the remnants of its industrial past: cement, oil, mercury, lead, PCBs, coal tar, and other contaminants. In 1951, with the opening of the elevated Gowanus Expressway over the waterway, easy access for trucks and cars catalyzed industry slightly, but with 150,000 vehicles passing overhead each day the expressway also deposits tons of toxic emissions into the air and water beneath.^[6]

There is an urban legend that the canal served as a dumping ground for the Mafia. In Jonathan Lethem's Motherless Brooklyn, a character refers to it as "the only body of water in the world that is 90 percent guns."

cut to 2011. one of my best girl's is doing an art piece about the Gowanus. would i like to be her paddling partner? definitely!

i thought we'd be there on some special Parson's pass, but it turns out that on Saturdays, the Gowanus Dredgers Canoe Club lets anyone take out a canoe -- for free -- no previous paddling experience required.

have you ever paddled in circles on some of the most polluted water in the world? have you ever felt the frustration of going nowhere as disintegrating black things float past in water that you do your best to make sure doesn't come into the boat, let alone touch your skin? no? why then you haven't lived! (i am definitely kidding).

the only living creature i saw in the water was a lady bug. i pulled it out on my paddle. are lady bug legs supposed to be the same color as the rest of their body? i swear it's eyes were triple normal size (you could say it was bugged eyed, bah dum bump) as if it was going, you would not believe what i just landed in.

at one point a tiny fleck of water splashed my cheek. one of those woken up by a nightmare noises escaped my lips. i couldn't have been more horrified than if acid had touched my skin. maybe it had.

and yet? it was beautiful. or maybe beautiful isn't quite the right word. it was fascinating? nice? cool?

maybe lets say: it was an experience. an only in Brooklyn would i ever consider time spent on toxic water a relaxing, back to nature, escape from it all, Saturday appropriate event. but it was. and i couldn't recommend it more highly.

fyi the Dredgers Club provides anti-bacterial gel when you're done. still, washing up someplace else really well afterwards comes highly recommended.

ducks in a row?

it's the weekend! or it's practically the weekend (still worthy of celebrating).

i'm slacking off already. which means today is the perfect day for a dancing dog video. except i couldn't find any that lived up to the other two i already posted. here are some decent runner ups.

phew. that was a tough hour of research.

no, for the record, you're not a bad person if you laugh at this one. only if you laugh repeatedly, like i did.

this video gets a little iffy/scary, but it's still good for the huh-huh chuckle.

and buda bump da bum bump. that's all folks. tell me if i missed one.

happy weekend!

my one sis sent these:

and

and



and this (one of my old favorites) from fabulous crit partner

keep 'em coming people!

snoozed

i needed a crowbar this morning. it was that difficult to get out of bed. it didn't help that it's rainy. or actually it did help.

i love the morning roll over. the "five more minutes" refrain.

six months ago i bought a new mattress and opted for one that feels like a giant pillow. (mattress salesman said people mistake firm mattresses for supportive mattresses. "support doesn't have to feel uncomfortable," he said.) three months ago, my mom visited and brought me more pillows for my bed. now i have five total. some mornings i wake up like princess and the pea. except i'm sleeping underneath everything next to the pea.

i know i won't be able to have a lazy morning routine forever. maybe that's why i like treating myself to it now. it doesn't work on beautiful sunny days though. the guilt seeps in. it's so lovely out, i ought to be up. i when i hear rain hit my window and see only grey in the sky, i cheer. and then roll over. today, the clouds were so thick outside, coffee couldn't even pry me loose. i put some on, then re-woke to find it had gone cold.

basically, it was a cookies in the house kind of a.m. only those would have gotten me up earlier. unfortunately, now i'm a little late for my day of events. but i don't care.

for notoriously punctual, bad sleeping me, 5 more minutes, is the perfect way to greet a day.

an inspired monday

somewhere in the deep gears of the universe, things are slowly grinding forward. i can feel it. change is afoot. good things are about to happen.

now, i've said this before, after which not much happened. but in the last few days, i've hung with an extremely cool (even though she technically isn't) person. i've watched talent from the sidelines, but been no less awed. and i've witnessed an event that i'm still not sure how to describe, but me being me, i'll try.

first up, if you've followed my blog you know i have a fabulous crit partner named ellen.

what you don't know is that she's a nerd.

no, it's true. i didn't believe it before yesterday, but she proved me wrong. without giving too much away, ellen heard about a tv show that's looking for nerds. she emailed them. a short while later, a casting director called her and asked her to send in a video.

yesterday we made said video.

not only can the girl recite Pi to 50 some numbers (at motormouth speed), but she owns a Lord of the Rings cloak, evenstar necklace, elf pin thingy, and a one ring. i don't want to give too much away (when she's allowed to blog about it, i'll post the video), but after all the filming, after she pulled crazy outfit after crazy outfit from a giant suitcase "this is my ren fair outfit.." "this is my steampunk outfit..." "harry potter..." "vampire goth..." i realized: nerdiness is AWESOME.

not that i hadn't previously know this, but watching ellen perform an entire scene from Princess Bride drove it home. "nerdiness" is a uniquely pursued, thoroughly enjoyed, totally geeky, passion for life. it made me regret all the times i've felt shiftless or bored. why wasn't i watching Red vs Blue, the online video series that's set in Halo? or getting lost in online vampire roll playing games? why wasn't i wearing costumes and going to weird gatherings with other costume clad people?

well, because that's what made Ellen's inner nerd shine. it felt like time to unearth mine.

speaking about passion for life, how better to observe it than by watching someone practice their craft and be really freakin' excellent at it? remember my friend kevin?

kevin's best friend, Sam, is in this acapella competition on NBC called The Sing Off. Sam's group is comprised of solo artists from Nashville. in real life, he's half of the group Sam and Ruby. i saw them live in NYC. the performance floored me.

now, behind the scenes alert, sam didn't want to be on The Sing Off. maybe the world breaks down into two kinds of people, those that would like to be on reality television (go get 'em, crit partner. whoop whoop) and those that wouldn't like to be on reality television (hi sam).  but last night after work, i watched sam's group's performances. they're called The Collective on the show. and squeamishness about reality tv or not, their voices need to be heard.

here's Ruby killing it:

here's Sam soloing in the middle. i forgot how much i love his voice:

if only we all had platforms where what we do best is seen and heard. watching sam and ruby bring it on tv made me long for that publication date. for sending out a draft that doesn't come back requiring massive edits. for finally having people read my words and inhabit my stories.

but you know what? it's not all about me. GASP! that's right. i saw it first hand when i wandered down to Zuccotti Park to take a look at the Occupy Wall Street protesters.

i was away when the protest began. my friend read a little bit about it to me from a facebook post. she said, "it looks like a bunch of rich kids who can't get jobs are protesting on wall street." we both scoffed and then went off to have more drinks and tapas. gotta love self-indulgent scoffing.

when i came home, another friend told me she marched with the protesters. she said it was mind blowing, the most important movement and protest to date of our lives so far. huh. i needed to see for myself.

i came away with mixed feelings. on one hand, it is rich kids that can't find jobs:

lobbying to end lobbying.

on the other it is a massive, messy, broadly missioned, energetic collective that isn't happy with the way things work. instead of just privately bellyaching, they're trying to change things. will it work? who knows. but it's grass roots, it's persistent and it's, i hope, for the good of all of us.  (yes, i fell pray to that 99% sloganism.)

all three of these events have left me with that butterflies in the stomach feeling. i'm interpreting it as change is a comin'. though maybe the correct read is: corrie, you can make change a come.

either way. it felt terrific to be around these all very different, very inspiring worlds and people.

she's crafty

it's fall. and if you've read last weeks post, you'll know i have a little extra time on my hands. what to do? FALL CRAFTS, of course.  here are my results from a very DIY past few days.

ROSE MAKING

look! i made roses using autumn leaves. you just fold in the points and keep wrapping the leaves around one another. i'm not sure they look terrific (naturally they came out better on the blog i saw this craft, but they look good enough)

prepare to be underwhelmed. it gets a lot less crafty from here on out.

FLOWER ARRANGING

i hacked back my outdoor planters and put together this bouquet. it's eucalyptus (cool right? i actually grew eucalyptus in my garden this year), the cattails from ornamental grasses, and some kind of dried something that we cut back at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens a few weeks back.

see how much i learn from my volunteering experiences? some kind of dried something. Laura, the head gardener where i volunteer, would be so proud.

FLOWER ARRANGING FOR DUMMIES

 this is rosemary. that's it. i hacked it all back, brought it inside, and inhaled with a big ahhhh all night long. also, notice the use of my hurricane candles for mood lighting. woo-woo.

SLACKER CRAFT

indian corn (3 for $2.50 at the farmer's market).
wall hook.
twine

ta-dah! that bare wall by my sink is suddenly a little harder to wash dishes next to, but a lot more interesting to look at.

and lastly, what crafting day would be complete without...

BAKING

i halved my recipe of oatmeal cookies unable to imagine even eating 24 cookies all by myself.

yeah. um. two days later? the entire batch is gone. i'm glad i didn't make all 48 for a different reason.

tah-dah. so there's my craftiness. now tell me about a craft you've made this fall.

time is on my side

the weird thing about returning from lots of time spent doing nothing, is remembering what you used to do with your time spent doing nothing before you left on vacation. it's the epitome of the start of a new season and thinking, what the heck did i wear last year?

luckily, when i returned from Spain (please elongate the 'A' and let your voice dip in a snotty New England accent at the end, otherwise you aren't pronouncing it correctly), i almost immediately went on a mini-family vaca to Tampa to visit my grandpa.

but now i'm back. no more vacations in sight.

in Spain right now, i'd be drinking cafe con leche and eating something delicious. in nyc right now, i'm in pajamas, staring at my computer, drinking coffee and mindlessly eating cookies.

in Spain, i was special. i was a blonde celestial being who's every flick of hair and oh so coy-ness *stumble on the cobblestones* caught los hombre's attention. no, seriously, Spanish men don't see blondes. it's a fact. so me walking down the street was as if they were seeing a big, fat, golden goose for the first time ever. meanwhile, here in nyc, i can barely get the eye scanner on my apartment building to meet my eye. (huh? what? i know, nothing in that last sentence is true, but what a metaphor!).

so yesterday, i decided to: Get Some Work Done.

i wrote down ideas and dialogue for my new book...for twenty minutes. then i did these things:

baked oatmeal cookies
ate cookies
gardened
ate cookies
fixed dinner
watched Pretty Little Liars for the first time (but only as market research)
watched another episode of Pretty Little Liars ('cause, erm, one just wasn't enough)
played TowerMadness
ate cookies
read a few blogs
got blog envy (i mean seriously, Lauren Morrill, your posts are funny, filled with great pics, and relevant to YA. they don't all babble about what the heck you're doing with this life. ahem, corrie.)

if i learned anything from yesterday, it was that i have TOO MUCH TIME on my hands. a normal adult doesn't need four days off in a row. even if she thinks she'll whip out five novels at a time, mostly, she'll write the same amount as she always does and then feel restless.

it was while i was hyper-linking to Lauren's blog this morning that i read her post about making the switch to full-time workage. i'm starting to ponder the same move. or a move. because if i learned one thing from Spain (did you say it right this time?) it's that life is fun, surprising, active and inspiring...when you make it that way.

so, um, anyone know of a fun job for me? or maybe do you just want to go to lunch today?

saw this the first day i was back. seemed about right.

casa dolce casa

want to see what three years without any serious time off from work looks like?

this:

a few weeks after this picture was taken, a friend quit her job and asked me if i wanted to travel with her to Spain. the economy is in the crapper, i thought. what right do i have to the self-indulgence of a long vacation? then i remembered the above face (who needed to remember it, i wore it half the time), and said Vamonos.

a month later, it was holllllla Espana.

this is my highlight reel:

our neighborhood in Barcelona had butterflies strung up everywhere for a local festival. the supermarkets sold wine for as little as 65 cents. they even had wine juice boxes.

in Barcelona there's a huge outdoor market. it's called la Bocheria. it's unlike any farmer's market that the States has. it's filled with every imaginable fresh vegetable, egg, meat, and fruit.



emu eggs

they even sold those fish that have both eyeballs on one side of their face.

in every city we went, there was a festival happening.

each city has their own giant people and animals that they carried through the streets on parade day.

no, they don't carry a giant corrie head. that's me!

if live music is played, all the old people in the crowd link hands and commence a twenty minute dance that involves lots of hopping and swaying. they even have special shoes for it.

in Barcelona horses hang out on balconies.

maybe because they're drunk.

people drink all the time in Spain. at la Bocheria, we sat next to a man that was having a beer with his breakfast pastry. at 8:30 in the morning. me? i waited...wait for it...until at least 11:30 to have a beer. before then drinking was reserved for cafe con leche.

i've never had so much espresso. scratch that. i've never had so much mind-numbingly, pick me up, served in a tall class or a short cup, freakin-delicious espresso.

in Barcelona, i learned that Spain Spanish is very different than Latin American Spanish in one primary way. never mind the whole "c" as "th" pronunciation thing. in Spain, tortilla doesn't mean something-to-eat taco-fixin's-out-of. it means gooey egg and potato dish that's served in the morning and then pretty much for the rest of the day.

Spanish lesson learned and heartily partaken in, next up, it was the resort town of San Sebastian.

fabulous San Sebastian. where the tapas are laid out on the bars starting around 10 am. it was the most vacationy of our vacation days. i spent a lot of time on the beach.

for the first time in my life, my bosoms saw the sun. (i'll spare you the picture.) i also got in my first scuffle.

coming out of the ocean, feeling good, and channelling my best bo derek impersonation (look her up, kids), i noticed the tide quickly pulling away from me. i wonder what happens next? was my last thought before i found out that this happens: the water comes back in the form of a GIANT FREAKIN' WAVE.

tumbling underwater washing machine style, i was dragged and thrown back ashore, sputtering, with my swim suit bottoms around my ankles.

i quickly crawled back into the surf, pulled my trunks up (only to realize when i was back on land that they contained 5 pounds of sand) and tried to wash the smeared make-up off my face. when i returned to our beach towels, my friend took one look at me and said, "what happened to you? and how come you were lying on the sand over there?"

i was still washing sand out of my hair five days later. lesson learned? don't fight with the ocean. it will win.

anyhoo, in San Sebastian there's more Michelin three-star restaurants than anywhere else in the world. since i was travelling with a chef, not trying one wasn't an option. the restaurant we chose was called Akilera. it was a short cab ride outside the city. since we'd be spending the equivalent of a night's worth of work to eat there, big time spenders that we are, we took the bus.

my friend's google map said the restaurant was a short hike up a mountain from the bus stop. we ascended. walked higher, saw some cows.

we walked higher. then higher uphill, no, up mountain. forty minutes in and ten minutes until our reservation time, my friend asked: what if the restaurants not there?

it will be, i panted.

she checked a different map. the restaurant was back by the bus stop. we ran. i tried to hitch hike. everyone kept shaking there heads and wagging their fingers at us. when we got the restaurant -- sweaty, flustered -- we sat right across from the same people who wouldn't give us a lift.

the meal lasted 4.5 hours. the waiter took us on a tour of the kitchen. it was sublime.



peaches served three ways.

we decided we needed to see wine country.

the capital of wine country in Rioja is Haro. we expected greenery, vineyards, quaint architecture, cobbled streets. instead we landed in the armpit of Spain. lesson? if you're going to buy a guide book, read it before you plan a day trip. Haro: This unattractive capital of Rioja... mine read.

we also met The Snobbiest Toronto Man Alive. when he asked us about accommodations in San Sebastian and i started to tell him about our awesome hostel, he cut me off with a I'm past the point in my life where i need to stay in hostels.

um okay. you asked. dick. then he made me taste his wine.

it wasn't all bad though. i mean, there was wine. (not previously drunk by a fuddy-duddy). and pretty cute bodegas serving it.

maybe there was too much wine.

we left northern Spain for southern.

i never knew Spain had been through so much upheaval. right from the start, one civilization wiped out another from the Phoenicians, to the Romans, to the Muslims. mosques were turned into churches. entire Jewish neighborhoods were slaughtered and repaved. in the 1930's there was a civil war. Franco took over. up until the 1970's women didn't have their own passports, they had to be on their husbands. and while the architecture was incredibly beautiful...

i swear, that chaotic, bloody history is still in the air because southern Spain is WEIRD.

paparazzi-style, a man took photos of me with his giant-lensed camera while i was sitting in a cafe. i got into an argument with a gypsy, and a few hours later a mysterious scratch appeared on my cheek. and the gelato is made with black magic. it must be, because it's so evilly good.

but as much as southern Spain gave me the creeps, it was stunning. you turn a corner and BAM! giant cathedral. or stuff like this guy. erm. cover your eyes kids.

we went dancing until 5 a.m. ate lots of tapas (they come free with purchase of a beverage) and went to the Alhambra. it's Spain's answer to the Taj Mahal.

then it was back to Barcelona (actually, first we stayed with a friend of a friend and slept in his bar) and then it was back to Barcelona for a last meal of scorching hot peppers and patatas bravas, a few more beers and yet another night of absolutely no sleep in a hostel --it's so hot in here, it's like dying, said the male bunk mate across from me. next an 8 hour flight with the gaping mouth guy snoring on my shoulder the whole way and i'm home.

it's weird being back. i'm changed, yet i've returned to a place where my life is the same.

but i found my happy. somewhere between the nude sunbathing and Spanish word confusions -- fyi Quisiera una bolsa de crema, does not mean, I'd like a cream bomba (local pastry) it means I'd like a cream bag -- i found this girl:

the one who's inside the one who used to make that other face. because i realized *ahem* that i'm past the point in my life when i make that unhappy face and don't try to do something about changing it. so maybe next time don't wait three years to do a little travelling when it makes you feel this good. and you, too, out there, don't put off being good to yourself. 'cause i'm here to tell you, doing nice, soul-expanding, completely self-indulgent things for yourself? it makes you feel happy. who would have thunk it?

yes, all together now, no duh, corrie! everyone thunk it. happiness and rejuvenation are the whole point of a va-ca-tion.

it's also the point of espresso.

hola everyone! it's good to see you again.