Writing--and rewriting

It's wonderful to re-read something you've written and realize it doesn't sound like an idiot wrote it. I got a critique a couple of days ago on "The" mystery, Skeleton in a Dead Space, the one that was rejected, and it had most helpful suggestions. As I go into another round of querying I think I can really make it a stronger novel. (Okay, I already got a rejection on a query I sent last week, but I am determined not to be discouraged.) So tonight, having cleared my desk of everything else, I started to read the manuscript again. I'd forgotten that I'd re-written the first line, which now delights me. Here it is, and I would love to know if you'd read a novel that began this way:
"I am passionate about a few things--my daughters, old houses, the neighborhood I live and work in, white wine and chocolate. But certainly not skeletons." Would you read on?
In going through the manuscript, I've found just a couple of typos in 40 pages and haven't yet come to the parts that need strengthening. But I'm having fun reading it, which I think is a good sign.
I rescued my Kindle today from Autobahn Volkswagen, where they were all very puzzled about what a Kindle is. The service advisor who handed it to me asked if it was one of those things where you keep your calendar, and I thought it's large for that when you can do that on your phone. I tried to show him, but it was out of battery--and I'm going to keep it that way because I do more work when it's not beckoning to me.
Nice day--ran errands this morning, then Jean and I went to see Charles in Trinity Terrace where he is temporarily living and getting his strength back before movig to assisted living in East Texas. We had a great visit, and both Jean and I found him cheerful, funny, and looking good. I had leftover gorilla casserole for supper and sent some home with Jean. Still a whole bunch to go, but it's pretty good.

Neighbors and other good things, like grandchildren

My neighbor, Susan, said to me tonight, "You're a good social engineer." I took it as a compliment and felt good about it, because my house was filled with happy people and lively discussion. We had a pot-luck supper--I supplied the entree (gorilla casserole--more about that in a minute) and others brought appetizer, salad, garlic bread, and dessert. Susan and Jay were here from the west side of my house, and Sue and her kids Hunter and Alex from the east side, Jamie and Greg from down the block (Greg keeps my lawn and yard in shape when it doesn't rain so much he can't work), Cathy from next to Sue brought an extravagant Italian cream cake (do NOT talk to me about Weight Watchers points today), and Weldon and Elizabeth were my surrogate children since Jordan and Christian elected not to join us. There was a really happy atmosphere (in spite of some political discussions) and everyone had a great time. I sat there and thought how wonderful it was to have my house filled with happy, interesting people.
But I have an entire 9x13 pan of gorilla casserole left--it has pasta, ground beef, tomato sauce, Italian seasonings, celery, onion, carrot (the last three get sort of lost in the mix), spinach, and Parmesan. Really good, but the recipe is right--you could feed twelve gorillas with it. I sent some home with Susan, and I'll hope JOrdan and Christian will come for dinner one night to help eat it. Then I can freeze single portion servings.
I did get some work done on my friend's manuscript today and am close to the end, finding much more than I expected after a first edit. But the other good thing about the day was Jacob--he slept until 8:15 this morning, but was in a sunny mood. We read and look at Bones for Barnum Brown, a dinosaur book that fascinates him. He sang and danced his way through the morning--with me trying to make my casserole--and kept calling me a "Mingo-head." His mom explained that he'd seen a flamingo at the zoo and there's a plastic one in the neighborhood. They left about 10:30, and I was sorry to see them go but I had lots of other things to do.
I'm really into a mood to get serious about my mysteries, so I'm in working mode.

The contradictory dilemma of creativity

I've been thinking a lot about creativity, especially when I do my morning three pages of free writing (I do this as many mornings as I can, though I don't come anywhere near the seven days a week recommended in The Artist's Way. This writing is supposed to enhance your creativity, but how do you measure that? And if you measure it, aren't you applying the rules and forms that are the opposite of creativity? Similarly, retirement is supposed to be freeing my creativity to write the great American novel--or at least the great American mystery. But if I do as everyone says you should in retirement, move at my own pace, it takes me most of the morning to do my free writing, exercise, shower, answer emails, read the paper--I get precious little writing down. I admit that didn't worry me much as long as I was waiting for an answer, but now that I've had a rejection, I feel I need to move ahead (I did send out two queries today). Writing requires self-discipline (argh, so does dieting!). But aren't self-discipline and creativity polar opposites. I don't want to be one of those artists who creates larger-than-life canvases at three in the morning, but I would like to strike a happy balance.
I know that now, more than ever, I'm good at putting things between me and writing--manuscripts to read for TCU Press or other sources, social events, etc. This morning, while free writing, I had an epiphany of sorts (I used to have a friend who had an epiphany every day and the rest of us giggled about it). The things I put between me and writing bring me tangible results--sometimes money, often the company of good friends. So today I also finished a novel I'm reading for TCU and arranged a potluck get-together for ten or 12 neighbors for Sunday night.
I'll cook the entree, which is a funny story in itself. I'm doing a radio interview Saturday on a local station in a small town not far from here, and when the host got the review copy of Cooking My Way Through Life, she emailed that she was going to make gorilla casserole that night. I think it's really called meat and pasta casserole or something, but the last line of the recipe was "You could feed ten gorillas with it," so the kids and I always called it gorilla casserole. Next day, the radio host reported that it was yummy but even when she halved it, she had a lot left over. So that's what I'll make Sunday night--haven't made it in years.
And here I am back to food again. Last night I opened one of my special cans of Pisces tuna, fresh caught on the Oregon seacoast (no dolphins endangered), canned immediately, and only cooked once. I sauteed it in some olive oil with onions, a couple of anchovy filets, and some capers, and added it to a small amount of pasta. Really good, but I used less than half the can, so tonight I made a tossed salad with tuna (still have about 1/3 can left), leftover green beans that Jacob didn't want, some green peas from the bag I keep in the freezer, grape tomatoes halved, and a bit of lettuce--actually would have been better without the lettuce. Got to get over thinking lettuce is essential to a salad! I dressed this with a vinaigrette that had--you guessed it--some of that open can of anchovies in it.