the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: connecticut (page 3 of 13)

layers pages feelings oh my

It’s three in the morning on day four of my holiday. Book is keeping me awake.IMG_4970

God I can’t wait for the day to come when I have an editor of my very own.

At the moment I’m reshuffling and rewriting. An issue I’m dealing with is managing how the tone of Novel changes dramatically. This is mainly caused by whatever disruptions in the outside world may have impacted my brain at particular times.

Essentially I’m working on toning up and down different pieces to create a consistent voice. I’m going to bash as much of this out that I can this week. Shortly after, I’m running away for another forest escape. One with no gadgets. It’s important to have gadget-less time.

Watching lightning bugs and listening to crickets is proving to be a superior way to spend a holiday. The puppies have been playing in ponds and prancing through gardens.

My head is filling with ideas, as it often does during extended periods of free-time. Somehow, when you’re employed in the U.S., three days becomes an extended period of time.

I’ll probably write some poetry at some stage and get around to those bloody edits I need to do.

chapter week. green stuff.

IMG_4790Today is Tuesday and I am resisting dipping into holiday mode because work is wild as always and I kind of need to focus.

But next week is chapter week blog family! It is my first full week off in over a year and I’m going to spend the whole thing with my face buried in words aiming to surface with novel. In any event, novel will be closer closer closer.

Then I can focus on other important life things, like a sequel for The Carrier.

In addition to the whole exercise thing that I’ve returned to (again)… I’ve decided to only eat steamed green things this week. This way, next week during my time off – I won’t feel as guilty about gorging on wine, cheese and olives.

I haven’t spent a week at my parents’ house since I first set off on mission alla New York City and hid in their basement between popping in and out of town for interviews, and scribbling down stories.IMG_4805

I remember lying on my bedroom floor when I was seven years old writing my first “book” in a spiral notebook. I’ve written some of my favorite pieces at my parents’ place. So even though the idea of getting away for a couple of days was appealing, finishing this bloody book takes priority. Also, puppies. The forest at my parents’ has rapidly become one of their favorite lands.

And besides, I’m running away to a secret location with boy and puppies 4th of July weekend… oh summer how I missed thee.

 

 

 

into the woods

DSCN4848I ran away again for the weekend. Into the woods. I met a lovely woman on the train traveling north who cuddled Frankie the entire way and chatted with me about how she’s preparing for a dog or two.

And then, once again, I hid in the forest for a few days.

Entering my second summer, back in the states. I find myself shedding hideous memories that once were relevant. I am aware, and responsible, for the impact that my despair has taken on my body and spirit. I finally feel like crawling out of a hole I didn’t realize I was crouching in – for some time now.

DSCN4863My first mission outside of the hole is to be done with Novel and start writing my next script, or whatever may come. I feel like this particular project has sucked enough guts out of me and I am quite ready for something new.

On that note, I’m joining the pool downstairs this week. I fancy a swim. And it’s fun living in the same plaza as a fitness center. I need to shake my body and make my heart beat. I spend such a number of hours crouched over paper; dreaming, telling and picturing. I need to go to a land of straight bodies and toned stomachs. Exercise helps, even though I generally hate it.

I think I can spend the rest of summer shedding bothersome ideas. The best advice I’ve ever heard is “There’s always something lighter.”

see you at 4am

So a bestie of mine phoned earlier to advise that he’s dropping one of our other bestie’s off at JFK airport at 3am then swinging over.IMG_4605

I’m expecting him somewhere between 3.30 – 4am.

A lover gave me Bulgari perfume and fresh cut flowers yesterday. The gesture shocked me. I’m 34 years old, no man has ever presented be with glass contained fragrance before. Furthermore, the gesture was extraordinarily considerate seeing as this particular perfume is the only thing outside of essential oils that’s really made me want to scent my skin with it.

It smells like spring bouquets, the soft pedals of flowers that make up spring bouquets. I’m terrible at saying thank you when you reach that place that completely exceeds it. Instead I shook and smiled and simply said, “Never before.”

I have seven more days of work until a week off. I’m trying to shape up my writing into organized piles for when I go and hide in Connecticut. I’ll work on this a bit before having a catnap prior to Tony’s pre-dawn arrival.

Supposedly Flaming Saddles is open until 4am tonight, my goal is to make it there for at least one cocktail…

so you can buy us an estate

I’ve had a good run of book obsession blog family. For the past four days all free moments involve some type of click.

A friend of mine even went so far to make the comment, “Man. Since you copped that new laptop, you’re working on your book like woah.”

Over the past few days I got through around 20,000 words and concluded the session with, “Sheesh.”

I feel like the difference between writing this novel and the first one is that in the first one, I was more focussed on story elements. Cause and effect type of things. In this book, I’m more interested with what someone sitting on a bench is looking at, there’s a big shift into perceptions.

I dipped to the country for the weekend. While it still feels like f-ing winter outside, forest writing also does me good. I’m thankful to play New York City during the week and then hide out in the sticks for my Saturdays and Sundays. Alas, I shall return to town in a few hours.

I’ve been so glued to my work that even my mother had to ask, “Gretchen, what are you doing?”

“Writing a best-seller.”

“Oh good. Write a best-seller and get rich, so you can buy us an estate. With horses.”

The funny part about that is, no one in my family actually rides horses.

Maybe I’ll learn one day, at the estate. I’ll take just finishing a book for the moment, then onto the next project.

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