Erica O'Rourke

WIP Friday: Office Edition

Reminder: There's still time to enter the BOUND In The Wild Contest and win a custom cuff bracelet!

i've talked before about the fact that my office is located in our laundry room. This has many benefits: there are some unusually large windows, lots of space, and a long counter. And I like the smell of laundry soap. Also, people tend not to come in that often, as I am likely to make them fold laundry or scoop the cat litter if they interrupt my work.

On the downside, this place has more spiders than Harry Potter's cupboard. Also, while I had a fair amount of drawer and cabinet space, I had no shelves, which meant my books were overtaking every other room in my house, and my kids are in that stage of old-enough-to-read-but-not-old-enough-to-understand. The answer, of course, was to install shelves. Lots of shelves.

By far the best shelves I've found are the Elfa system from The Container Store -- they're flexible, clean-lined, strong, and insanely easy to install. (True story: When I was eight months pregnant, I installed an entire closet, shelves, and drawer unit all by my princess self, despite the fact I couldn't see my feet. It is THAT EASY.)

So, after Boyo installed the top track (I am not allowed to hang things on the walls, because SOMEONE is very picky about what anchors we use) I got to work. And behold:

Time assembling shelves: One hour

Time arranging books JUST SO: One week.

It's not done, of course -- these are only the books from my room, so I still have to go through the rest of the house. But the sight of all those beautiful books, some of them unread, some of them old friends, makes me both happy and inspired.

Some closeups:

My UK editions of Harry Potter, which my children kept stealing. MITTS OFF, CHILDREN. There's also some of my favorites YA books: A Wrinkle In Time, The Changeover, and The Only Alien On The Planets, and my first Marauder's Map mug, which...my kids chipped. This is why we can't have anything nice, internet.

And here's MY books! Including the lovely, lovely German edition of TORN, which gets to face out so I can stare at the prettiness while I work. (Also, my beloved copy of Garner's, which is a lifesaver during line-edits. If you don't have a copy, you should.)

Like everything else in our house, the office is a work in progress, even two years after we've moved. Finishing a project like this, though, really makes the space feel like it's mine. I can't imagine why I waited so long.

So...what's on your shelves?

WIP Friday: Willpower Editon

In 120 minutes, I get a biscuit.

(Wallpaper from Wisecraft. Thanks, Blair!)

Office Space Outtakes + A Giveaway!

Yesterday, the nice folks at Readers' Entertainment ran a feature on my office/laundry room. It was the cleanest this room has ever been, including the day we moved in. Usually there are piles o'stuff in here -- general laundry, clothes that need mending, papers that need filing, bags for Goodwill, and many, many, MANY empty coffee mugs. It's so clean in here, in fact, that the combination of white walls + white cabinetry/counters + white blinds + snow outside is making me feel like I'm in an operating room.

Don't worry. I give it another three days before it's a complete disaster area again.

Before that happens, I thought you might like to see some of the shots that didn't make it into yesterday's post. As I mentioned, our old place was miniscule, and finding space to write was challenging. When we started looking at houses, our realtor was adamant that I needed something -- a room, a niche, even a decent-sized closet -- that could function as my office. I liked the idea, but it seemed impossible and a little selfish to demand that kind of space for myself. But every time I said, "It's okay. I can write in the living room/our bedroom/the dining room table," Paul The Realtor insisted we keep looking. And then we found this house, and took one look at the giant laundry room with its counters and its big windows, and he said, "You can write here. No one will bother you. This is the house for you. Buy it."

He had hated every single house we'd looked at. Paul The Realtor was a hard man to please. We bought the house.

When I think back on it, I'm a little bit blown away at how determined he was to find us the perfect home. He wouldn't settle -- and he wouldn't let ME settle -- for something that didn't fit the life we had and the life we were hoping to have. Which makes him, in my book, the World's Finest Realtor. It is a wonderful thing when the people you love believe in you. It is no less wondrous when people who barely know you do the same.

So. Let us move on to proof that I will never be a lifestyle blogger.

Yesterday you saw the sign my oldest daughter made, but it was pretty small and the glare was fierce. Here's a closeup.

 

 

Yes, she did spell my name wrong. Yes, it's her last name too. And yes, it was TORN, not TANGLED, that won the GH. But I still melt every time I see it. She wore her favorite metallic gold colored pencil down to a nub coloring those hearts. One of these days, I'll have it framed.

 

 

My mom and dad gave me the old manual Olympia typewriter, which doesn't work but looks cool. Every book gets its own box for all my hard-copy versions -- that box is for BOUND. The blue box on the very end holds notes for future projects.

 

 

I have a nice deep ledge running along this wall. From left to right:

:: Fingerless mitts, because it is COLD in my office.
:: One of my favorite mugs -- the image was wearing off, so I repurposed it to hold writing utensils.
:: A sweet olive-scented candle from the French Market in New Orleans. My favorite. (Sweet olive shows up in TANGLED, by the way.)
:: Honeydukes candy jar, from Harry Potter World. Time for a refill!

 

 

 

Until I manage to hang some shelves in here, the ledge also holds my essential books. The rest are in my bedroom or living room.

:: Baby name books, to name characters and to freak out my husband.
:: TORN and TANGLED, so I can check continuity details while I'm writing.
:: Travel guides for fun and research.
:: Craft and reference books.

 

 

 

Told you it was a laundry room! We have three girls. Hence, a LOT of pink laundry. You also see the corner of my whiteboard. I don't use it as much as I should -- I prefer to outline in a big sketchbook or using the notecard function in Scrivener. But it's there if needed, which is nice.

 

 

More desk essentials:

Hair elastic, spare flash drive, Swiss Army knife, and a pretty blue stone I play with when I'm stumped about a plot point. Usually there's a mug of cold coffee over here, and some wadded up kleenexes, and a candy wrapper or twelve, and some post-it notes that say things like "TIMELINE" and "Check timeline" and "JESUS. TIMELINE." And hand lotion. Where did my hand lotion go???

Anyway. On to the giveaway!

This is the room where TANGLED was written, and I'm curious: where do you work? Whether it's writing/drawing/household management/your favorite hobby, where is the place you go when you need to focus and Get Stuff Done? Answer below, and you'll be entered into a drawing for both TORN AND TANGLED! Contest will close on Sunday at 9 CST; I'll post the winners Monday morning.

And...if you're so inclined, take a picture of your space, post it somewhere (blog, tumblr, twitter, FB, wherever) and link to it in your comments. I'll post a roundup when I announce the winner. (It doesn't earn you an extra entry, or anything like that. I just like to peek inside people's houses. Legally.)

Tools of the Trade: Cold Turkey Edition

If you follow me on twitter, you have probably seen me mention MacFreedom lately. Someone mentioned that they thought that's what I had named my laptop, but that is not the case. The laptop is most often referred to as "That thing keeping my desk warm until I buy a Mac." But based on the number of conversations I've had about MacFreedom lately, I am beginning to think a couple of things: One, I should have been more clear. Two, you guys have much more willpower than me.

MacFreedom is a program that functions as a "No Internet" button. You plug in the number of minutes you want to be cut off from nonstop refreshing of gmail and its timesucking brethern, press "Begin Freedom," and that's it. No internet for you! You can get around this by restarting the computer, but that's such an arduous process for me that I have never once done it.

It is cheap -- ten dollars. It is easy. It works exactly as promised, and it has saved my bacon more times than I care to admit. I could not survive without it. Probably the only person who loves MacFreedom as much as I do is my agent, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't use it. She's just glad I do.

And if you're the kind of person who has so much self-discipline that you don't need a program like this, congratulations. Also, remember that gloating is not an attractive quality in anyone.

(Technical note: I have a PC. Technically, I use "Freedom for Windows." But I call it MacFreedom anyway, because it sounds better.)

 

 

Kickoff

I am, as you may have noticed, quite a fan of lists. Grocery lists, to-do lists, books to read, craft projects to try. (So many inspiring craft blogs. So many shiny, shiny supplies. So little talent. So many Rubbermaid boxes filled with half-finished projects.) Absolutely no one here should be shocked to discover I have a list of plans and projects to keep me out of trouble this summer.

I also have three children, each with their own ideas about how to spend the summer, and who will cheerfully resort to mutiny in order to get what they want. Hence, I will be spending a good portion of my summer at the local pool, where "Party in the U.S.A." plays on heavy rotation. Here's the list of ways I'll be rewarding myself for putting up with Miley.

Summer To-Do's

1. Make the perfect fish taco. I am kind of setting myself up for failure here, because I've already eaten the perfect fish taco. In San Diego. But it's a lot cheaper to experiment here at home than it is to fly back to California. True, this is a goal which will require the consumption of staggering numbers of fish tacos, but I am willing to make such a sacrifice.

2. Learn to grill. Around here, there are three jobs reserved for my husband: scooping kitty litter, mowing the lawn, and grilling. I can prepare food for the grill -- marinate things, thread them on skewers, make up neat little foil packets of potatoes and olive oil and salt -- but cooking over an open flame? A job previously left to the menfolk, but no longer. This is the summer I learn to operate a charcoal grill. I was never that fond of my eyebrows, anyway.

3. 150 pages on the Roadside Marker book, my new project. Contrary to what Phineas and Ferb would lead you to believe, there are only 85 days of summer vacation. Which means that I'll need to write a perfectly manageable 2-ish pages each day to make this goal.

Sweet Jesus, I hate math.

4. Move. At the same time that I'm working faithfully on the roadside marker book, we'll be preparing to move, a dream I'd long ago given up hope of ever coming true. If everything goes according to plan (and how many zany caper movies have hinged on things doing EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of that?), we'll be moving at the end of August, two days after school resumes. All I need to do is pack up this house, find a new one, and move into it. I feel the need for another list.

5. Catch up on Tennant-era Doctor Who. I loved the Ninth Doctor. I am absolutely charmed by Eleven. But for reasons I'll explain some other time, I never watched David Tennant's Doctor, which means I missed out on the whole "farewell to Rose". There is a big, TARDIS-shaped hole in my life, and this summer, I will fix it.

So, what's on your must-do summer list?

Let's Talk About Snacks.

Being a Real Live Writer is a tricky business, and it's important to have a little something on hand to nibble now and again, to keep your strength up. Alas, my house is currently lacking in proper snack food. A dire situation, and one I feel compelled to remedy post-haste. The culprit is my inability to demonstrate any kind of restraint when presented with tasty snacky goodness. I buy treats, and they magically disappear within 36 hours. I would blame the baby, but she's not the one with Dorito dust staining her fingertips.

*excuses self to wash hands*

Writing friendly snacks are especially tricky. They need to be filling but not coma-inducing. No preparation necessary. Easy to eat one-handed. They need to not coat your fingers or keyboard with shmutz and be relatively drip-free. Tasty at room temperature. Crunchy, but not painfully so. Neither cloyingly sweet nor so salty your mouth feels like the Sahara. A bit indulgent, since you're working so hard, but not so rich that you feel guilty about it.

It's a lot of pressure for a single food item.

Happily, I've done the research for you, and found tasty things you can eat while writing/editing/working on the computer/watching YouTube. If I were to go out right now, here's what would make it into my cart (and likely be gone by 3pm tomorrow). What can I say? I'm a giver.

FIVE SNACKS FOR WORKING

1. Wasabi peas: You can get these anywhere, but I am not a fan of the ones in the cute metal can, as blindly reaching in will give you wicked cuts along your knuckles. Also, monitor your intake -- I often wake up the next morning unable to feel my lips, thanks to wasabi's numbing powers (see restraint, lack of, above). Crunchy, vaguely healthy due to the peas, spicy enough to keep you awake, and easy to eat one-handed.
2. Trader Joe's Soy and Flaxseed Tortilla Chips: Most chips need salsa or guacamole to make up for their blandness. Flavored chips don't need a dip, but they leave cheese dust on your fingers, which then smears all over the place. But these chips are delicious all on their own -- a little nutty-tasting, crisp and substantial, and not too salty. TJ's makes two other versions, spicy and veggie-flavored, but why mess with perfection?
3. Emerald Cocoa Roast Almonds: Everyone says almonds are healthy, and it's easy to think that dipping them in dark chocolate only makes them healthier, what with the antioxidants and all. But eating an entire bag will make you sick (ask me how I know). Plus, your fingers will be covered in melted chocolate. These almonds, however, have a baked-on cocoa coating that gives you a nice hit of chocolate flavor without making a mess. You still shouldn't eat the entire jar, but you're less likely to slip into a diabetic coma if you do. If you are into the portion control thing, they also come in 100-calorie packs.
4. Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Wedges: Speaking of portion control, if you're going to go with unadulterated dark chocolate, as one sometimes must, these are perfect. 16 bite-sized wedges of 70% dark chocolate in an adorable tin. You can tuck them in your bag, if you're working outside the house. You can virtuously close the tin and pretend like you're not having any more. Once you've stopped pretending, you can use the tin as a travel jewelry case, or to hold small office supplies.
5. Trader Joe's Cinnamon Schoolbook Cookies: Not too hard, not too sweet, not overpoweringly cinnamon-ish, and perfectly bite-sized. They are the Goldilocks of cookies, and I am not above justifying my purchase with "But they're shaped like letters! And I'm a writer! It was meant to be!"

So, what am I missing? What snacks do you require in order to Get Stuff Done?

Five Things I've Learned From Writing

I've learned a lot more than five, of course, but I'm trusting you can google "proper manuscript format" and "goal motivation conflict" all by yourself.

1. Pay Attention

Watch what people say, what they do, why they do it. Watch the world around you, and notice the way things look and smell and taste and feel. I write about magic, but even when talking about magical woo-woo and impossible things, it still needs to be grounded in a way that people can relate to it. Big things -- telling things -- happen in small moments, and if you don't train yourself to see them, they'll pass you by entirely.

2. No Shortcuts

Writing is hard work. It is often lonely work, too, but you can alleviate that by finding a writer's group. What you can't do is cheat. If you don't actually sit down and put the words on the paper, you won't finish the book. If you don't submit, you won't get an agent or a sale. If you don't promote, you won't get the sales necessary to sustain a writing career. Perhaps there is someone for whom this does not hold true, whose lengthy and illustrious career is all a matter of luck and happy accidents, but I have yet to meet this person.

Unfortunately, this also applies to real life as well. If I want clean socks, I have to do laundry. There is no happy accident that results in a clean kitchen floor. Someone is going to have to take the car for emissions testing, and it's not going to be the ozone fairy.

3. It's not personal.

Rejections are an unhappy fact. You don't win a contest. Your dream agent rejects you. Your critique partner says with a firm shake of her head, "This scene? It has to go." It's not because they hate your guts. It's not because you're a terrible person. It is not -- although sometimes it feels this way -- because the universe is out to get you. Sarah Prineas (author of the delightful Magic Thief series) put it perfectly when she said, "You are not your work."

I love writing. It consumes a huge amount of my brain space. I think about my books when I'm in the shower, when I'm driving to Target, while I'm watching TV, while I'm scrubbing up cat barf. But writer is only one of the roles I play, and to assume a rejection of my writing equals a rejection of me...diminishes the importance of the other things I do.  Rejection hurts, but it is part of the business. Writing is my job. Agents and editors are doing their job. Presumably, the cats feel they are doing their job when they hurl all over the bedroom carpet at 2 AM.

It's not personal. (Well, okay. The cat barf probably is.)

4. There is such a thing as too much coffee.

I did not think this was possible, but it is true. As it turns out, after six large coffees, I tend to lose perspective. When even your texting has become incoherent, step away from the Italian Roast and have some peanut butter crackers.

5. Your mileage may vary.

A good critique partner will not only tell you what your manuscript needs, they'll have some suggestions on how to provide it. And after they offer their advice, they'll say something along the lines of, "But this is only my opinion. Use what you want and ignore the rest." If they're a great critique partner, they will actually mean it.

(Good CPs are like a perfect pair of jeans -- incredibly rare, capable of making you look amazing, and to be treated carefully, so as to last a long, long time.)  

There are many roads to Oz. We all march to the beat of a different drummer. One man's trash is another man's treasure...blah blah blah proverbcakes, but the truth is, what I've learned might not be what you need to learn. Use what you want and ignore the rest.

I mean it.