I'm denouementing. And whining.

Lots of writers say they don't like writing the middle of their stories, especially novels because they (the middles) are just so...effing...long.

Yeah, that can be a problem. Friend/mentor/really cool lady Pat Giff says we should keep making the problem (conflict) worse for the main character during this time. That has helped me a lot to get through those pesky long middles.

Me? I'm no fan of the denouement, the very very end of the story where everything wraps up. According to this source, which is not wikipedia,*  "Denouement is usually the final scene or chapter in which any necessary, and, as yet unmade, clarifications are made. The word is taken directly from French and means literally 'untying.' The French nouer is from the Latin nodare which was derived from nodus, meaning 'knot to untie.'"

Look! A graph! Or is it a chart? Or a map? ::shrugs:: I'll stick to writing.

My inclination is to write an ending something along the lines of "And then they died. The end" regardless of what came before that sentence, but apparently this is not an ending readers like. In fact this pesky denouement** is the only part of the Julia novel (which I've been working since...forever) that I have left to write. My friend Shelagh (check out her blog) said I'm not allowed to end this way. She is mean.*** 

How to tell I do not like writing that part of the book?  I'm explaining literary terms to you rather than just doing it.

In order to not have a predictable ending, I may have fiddled with the idea of the happy ending. I read recently, "You can write a good ending as some novelists do. You can write a great ending as fewer do. You could write the perfect ending as all too few do. Or... you could write the only ending. Ah, there's the rub. What's the perfect ending? And can the progression of the plot (i.e. the journey of the character(s) and chain of events) justify the denouement and vice versa?"

 I KNOW what the perfect ending is.**** I just don't want to write it because it may wind up being a little bit sad and I don't like being sad.

It's not like I am against happy endings in general. I love happy endings. (Shut up, you.) I just want it to be DONE already.****

 Fine. I'll do it. (After snacktime.) But I'm not going to like it. (But I will like the snack.)

What's that? You're worried because I seem to have completely abandoned Hazel?  Oh, on the contrary. She has some big news coming up in less than a month. But it's a secret so you will have to wait.




*Although they have a great breakdown of dramatic structure even though they are The Evil W.
**But I do LOVE to say "denouement" because it makes me feel really really smart.
***Not really. She is actually very nice.
****Because The Ending Fairy came!
*****And by DONE, I mean MOSTLY done. She still needs a good going through/editing, but that's different and way easier.

No chicken soup for your soul. Or bowl.

Apparently when you're writing a recipe, you are not supposed to only include the steps that interest you.  For that reason, you are not getting the chicken soup recipe I have been promising you in my head.

Oh, you'll get it eventually. Or I guess I could give it to you now, but it wouldn't work.

I wrote it, thinking I was Miss Sassy-Smartypants and I sent it to The Chef, asking him to check it out and he laughed and laughed and told me it was perfect except for all the wrong things and all the missing things. (I added the "perfect" part.) (He said all this very nicely because he is very kind and sweet, but we all know that's what he meant. There may have been some head-shaking on his part.)

So...if you're sick and you need chicken soup, just hold on! It's coming!



Someday I will tell you how to make this.



Inappropriate Response

Him: I am the saddest person in America.

Me: ::laughs uncontrollably::

Pork loin is not photogenic

It kinda looks like a dead, boneless animal, doesn't it?  Oh, wait. It is. But a very delicious one.

There really are no words, but I sure do like to write captions!

Here's the recipe, for those of you brave enough to slow-cook. I've slow-cookered thrice, so I'm a pro now. (And by "pro," I mean The Chef helped/supervised every step of the way. We should all thank him. If you think I'm kidding, see Step 2, which I did on my own.)

Non-Photogenic but Most Delicious Slow-cooker Pork Loin

• 1 boneless pork loin, 2-3 pounds
• salt and pepper
• 1 cup light brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
• 3/4 cup water

Glazey McGlazerson:

• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
• 1/2 cup water
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce

1. Get your in-home chef to wash pork, trim excess fat, pat dry.
2. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, then prick the meat all over with a fork or skewer. (NOTE: I forgot to poke and no one would have been the wiser if I hadn't just narced on myself.) (ANOTHER NOTE: I said "prick.")
3. In a cup or bowl, combine the brown sugar, mustard, and vinegar. Rub all over the hunk of meat. (Best to put the gloves back on before you do that--no messy cleanup!)
4. Cover and cook on LOW for 7 to 8 hours.
5. After an hour of cooking, add water around the side of the meat--not right on it!
6. About 1/2 hour before the pork is done, combine ingredients for glaze in a small sauce pan.
7. Heat and stir until mixture thickens.Pour off the excess juices and reserve.
8. Brush pork with glaze.
9. Add reserved juices to glaze and reduce on stove to nappe* stage. (The mixture coats the back of the spoon.) This is your gravy. You will drink whatever's left. I guarantee it.

*Does using this term make me sound like I know what I'm doing?

Ode to the garage

Dear Garage,

Thank you for keeping my car from

snow

that would make me late,

for I never give myself enough time

before I zoom away.

"Did you have a hard time cleaning off your car this morning?"

asked my 82-year-old coworker.

"I had a devil of a time."

"I have a garage now!"

I squealed.

I am a jerk and I know it.

But I am a jerk with a spot in a garage!

I am making food.

In the crockpot. Set on low. I have to STOP checking its progress. (Is it cooking yet? How about now? Now?)*

Here's a quiz (with imaginary prizes):

If left to my own eating devices, I would

a) Have a frozen dinner for just about every meal except the ones where someone else cooks
b) Die of malnutrition
c) Live on a giant batch of shepherd's pie.
d) Eat cake for almost every breakfast
e) Any and all of the above.

The answer is E, of course.

But you know what's funny, in a not funny-haha way? Every single solitary thing (book/story/whatever) I write has super descriptions of tasty treats (not just cake) and delicious recipes in them.  If pressed, could I actually make these recipes/foodstuffs?

Other people could. Me? Well...I have this whole following-directions problem, which kind of goes along with the shiny button syndrome.**

As I was falling asleep last night, I was thinking, "Hmmm...I could actually SHARE these things, these recipes with you all. And The Chef could help me make sure I'm not effing up big-time mid-creation."

What's that? You want to know what I'm making now? What would you say to Slow Cooker Brown Sugar Pork Loin? 



Get in mah belly. (Lousy pic, I know. I'll get you a mouth-watering one later!)



When The Chef emailed me the recipe yesterday, what I said was "This looks so good I want to have sex with it on the first date."  I know what you're thinking: Um, Penny, that (the food, not the sex) sounds fancy and direction-y. I KNOW! But two things:

1. The Chef prepped the meat last night
2. I only had to mix brown sugar with a few other things. When sugar's involved, I'm an idiot savant. (I love you, sugar.)

Plus another thing, which makes three things: slooooow cooker, whose motto should be I'll do all the work. You go relax--or perhaps GET BACK TO WORK! That book ain't going to write itself!

Is it done now? No.

More on this potentially-delish dish of deliciousness later, once full contact has been made with my mouth. Nom nom nom.

*Now?

**Latest episode? Yesterday I was taking clothes from the dryer and something--the phone ringing? a bunny hopping across the yard? an alien invasion?--something happened and I walked away from the task; aforementioned incomplete task was discovered by The Chef. Open bifold laundry doors. Open dryer. Clothes spilling onto the dryer door like they were trying to make an escape.

"What the...?" he started.

"It's best you don't ask," I told him. That's best for everyone.

You think I haven't been writing.

But you would be very very wrong.

I have. I've just been forgetting to tell you.  In fact recently, there was a 1494-word day and a 1775-day.

And just yesterday there were 1083+783 words, which makes...

(please sing to yourself for a minute...)

1866 words! That was on my new book, because I'm waiting for the Ending Fairy to come down and bless me with a satisfying ending for Julia.

Yes, this is the Ending Fairy. She also brings cake to celebrate.

In other writing news, I'm thinking about starting a blog based on writing alone because I'm sure you non-writers would rather stick a fork in your eye--or maybe a spork for more scooping action--than read about angsty writing stuff.  Just thinking about it.  In a procrastinating actual writing kind of way...