I’ve decided to put my grittier, revenge filled story on hold while I edit something I finished. A 300 page sorta romance novel. This story took about two years to write. I worked in the evenings after work and weekends, pumping out pages and pages of longhand. I tend to start out hand writing everything, sometimes not in order. So part of my process is arranging pages in order, throwing out stuff that does not work, switching passages from end to beginning etc.

Now, I feel I have things in order. Parts may be missing – I’ll add them later as needed – but the story is finished. The piece can stand on its own. It just needs to lose a bit of weight. Like most of us, it carries a bit of extra baggage. And it’s like looking at yourself in the mirror. Sometimes, you just don’t see what’s really there. You see what you believe is there. Your brain is conditioned to see things a certain way. Plus you have an idea in your head of what “should be.” Not necessarily what IS. So I read the story and know this or that happens and leads to this other thing. You the reader may follow along and get to a point and say – What the heck?! How did you get to this point?

So, that’s why I love my faithful friends who read my stuff and tell it like it is. Don’t spare me the details. Give it to me straight! I love criticism. Without it, how can one grow?

Selfish plug alert!

So if you’d like to read this story (and other stuff I’ve written!), please wander over to Booksie.com and look up Phoebe Miller.

Morning Pages

Do you do them? Do you know what I’m talking about? Chances are, if you’re a writer, or any artist who’s struggled with their craft, you may have run across a certain book in your travels – The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. While I’ve read the book and started the exercises, I must admit to never finishing the 12 week program. I think I’ve started it 6-7 times. I have kept up with the morning pages. I go through spurts where I am faithful, crawling out of bed half an hour early to write my three pages. (Sometimes, I write during commercial breaks of Angel...check out David Boreanaz...you'll see why I watch the show...and Bones too) It’s relaxing, fulfilling, and stress relieving. Most of all, it keeps me coming back to the page.

And some days, that’s 90% of the battle.

Lately, the 10% has been winning. I’ve been writing about a page. And I notice that when I stop writing and editing, there’s something wrong in my life. Something just not quite right.

So, it’s back to the center. Back to what makes me … ME.

Take a deep breath and write.

Writerly Responsibility...

Okay, right now, I’m working on a story about revenge and redemption. I mentioned the idea to a friend. And her response – Oh Phoebe, you shouldn’t do that. You hear all the time about someone on the news doing this or that because of a book they read. Gee, if we writers worried about that, nothing would ever get written. Should I be responsible for someone taking one of my ideas and actually committing the act? Good question.


But this story I’m working on… It’s eating away at my brain. There’s a lot of my past tied to this story. It’s like I have to finish it to resolve something. Yet part of me is pushing to NOT finish it. That tells me I need to push harder. Because it’s a good story. I like it. And right now, that’s all that matters.

Celebrities and the People Who Love Them...

Love isn’t quite the best word. How can you love someone you don’t even know? Obsession, fantasy – these words fit much more snugly. And I admit, I’m guilty. I used to by magazines just because there was a teeny tiny blurb or picture about my latest crush. And I’m not talking about Tiger Beat or Seventeen. I’m in my 30s and should know better. But I don’t and I drop $5 here and there to get the latest article about my favorite celeb. I try to stick with “respectable” publications which claim not to use pictures snapped by paparazzi, but how do you know for sure? And when it comes to the articles, I often wonder how much is even true. Is the magazine embellishing or the star? They are entertainers after all, and I have to admit it might be amusing if I was famous to toss out a few whoppers. Yet that would be crummy right? Hmmmm… How crummy is it for someone to hide behind the garbage cans to snap pictures of you out for your morning jog? Or to chase you down the street?

Why do we have such an obsession with the rich and famous? They’re people just like you and me. Like it or not, we want what they have. We want to BE them. Or we might want to take them home with us…

This illusion has us fooled.

Say we did get this “thing” we want. Would it ever be enough?

What's this all about anyway?

I hope for this blog to be a little bit about everything. The books I'm reading, the shows I'm watching, the goofy things my cats do, but most of all - the stuff I'm writing.

Yes, I am one of those people.

I am a writer.