The Last Five Years....

Five years is a long time. In some ways it can be a life time. And in Elliot's case it was...his lifetime.
He was adopted as a puppy and spent five years with a family. Then one day the family woke up and decided they had no time for him and sent this eight pound little fluff ball out into the world to find his own way.
So, he was taken into rescue and that's how Elliot ended up at my house. He's only been here a few hours, but so far he seems to be house trained, likes Halston and thinks the cat needs to be chased. But that's okay, we're explaining Gizzmo's right to pursue happiness and not to be pursued by dogs.
Right now he's pacing back and forth between rooms. A lot of the foster dogs that come through here do that. It's as if they're looking for their family and for those familiar things that used to be home. When we had Frieda the Basset Hound she would pace and whine for hours. I'd offer her food, water, a walk, but she wouldn't want anything but to pace and cry.
It breaks my heart but all we can give them is space and time.
After a day or so the dogs usually come around and start looking for some affection. A little rub behind the ears or a warm place to lay down near you.
It's kind of hard to watch them go through this process and then know that they're going to have to do it again when they go to their for-ever family. When Frieda went to her for-ever family she had some adjustment issues, but she's doing better now. She's starting to trust and her little personality is coming out more and more every day.
And now it's Elliot's turn to find a for-ever. Please wish him luck!


Five years....

When to hop heads...tell me how you do it???

Since my writing has been lagging lately I've been reading a lot. Right now I'm reading Under the Dome by Stephen King, Sins of the Flesh by Caridad Pinero (interesting romance about genetic testing) and something by Jennifer Cruise about a basset hound. (someone who knew we were hosting Frieda the Basset gave me that book the other day.)
So since I was once called a head hopper by a wonderful editor I've been worrying about this issue a lot. Some writers do this so smoothly you don't even feel it. The shift of POV is barely felt by the reader. Then there's others that I can see it clearly but for some reason it seems to work. Then there are writers who hop heads so often I have to back up and say...where was I?
So my question is how do you change POV's in a story? Do you have any rules on how you hop heads? Have you ever written a book totally in one POV?
Help!
I'm obsessing and I can't stop!

Write on...

One of the most popular pieces of advice that writer's get is to write everyday. Something I haven't been doing. Something I've felt that I can't do.
Usually when I have ...gulp!...writer's block I just keep writing stories. Some bad, some terrible, occasionally a diamond in the rough surfaces, but I could always keep writing.
Now?
eh

I've even failed my blogs. It's like I've crawled into a dark hole with no desire to come out.
I spend my time trying to fix everything around me. Even things I have no control over. Maybe it's the Virgo in me. Maybe it's a place to hide.
So now I'm ready to write every day again. It's going to be hard. I'm not sure there's anything in my head to write about.
Ideas used to be easy. I always believed ideas were everywhere. Wherever you go there's something there to build a story on.
Grocery store? Hmmm, see the lady in the black coat? What if she has a gun in her pocket? What is she going to do with it? And what would bring her to the grocery store before going on a mission to kill?
Doctor's office? ...What if that person sitting across from you in the waiting room is being poisoned? Who's trying to get rid of her and why? Will the doc figure it out and then be a target also?
Walking the dog? ...As you walk through the wooded area next to your house your dog goes crazy barking at a clump of bushes and flushes out a creature you've never seen before. Do you take it home and make it a pet? Do you discover a new species? Or is it not of this world?
Work? ...If the next person who walks through that door brings a check for 10 million dollars and you've suddenly won the big lottery how does your life change? Who becomes your friend? Who becomes an enemy?
Ideas flow...
Wait! I think I'm starting to get the spark back...

Mud Dogs

Had a bit of an issue this morning. I went to call the dogs in and Frieda (the basset hound) was missing. After searching the whole house and yard I couldn't find her and started to worry. She's my foster dog and I couldn't lose her!
Then I'm standing out on the back deck I hear crying coming from under it
so I go to the spot near the middle stairs where the dogs had been digging and call her. She cries louder and starts to howl. Our deck is very low to the ground and my husband nailed lattice to all the sides to keep the dogs from going under it.
I get down off the deck, high heels sinking in the mud and peer into the hole. All I can see is her nose.
She's behind the other big piece of wood and can't get out.
I walk all around the deck trying to call her out. Not an easy feat in high heels and mud… it's been raining in New Jersey for like---ever! Our backyard is a swamp and I'm dressed for work trying hard not to mess up my good clothes.
Finally I got a hammer and had to remove part of the lattice to get her out.
However after I got the lattice off Halston tried to go in (no way is the hole big enough for her so she just kind of laid in the mud with her head under there harrassing Frieda who was howling again. I finally get Halston out and Frieda crawls out covered in mud.


So How did your day start?

It means Freedom

This little girl came up from North Carolina a few weeks ago. She went straight to a forever home. Unfortunately, she didn't get along with the two year old in the house and now she's here.
Frieda (I'm told her name means Freedom in German) is about 3 years old and very nervous. She was dumped in a shelter heart worm positive. They treated the heart worm and now she is doing good. A very sweet dog who needs a calm family. Maybe with older children. I've only had her a few hours now so I don't know anything else about her yet. She's trying to be the alpha dog here and Halston isn't allowing it. We've had a few skirmishes. Nothing big but I'm definitely going to have to crate her when I go to work. I absolutely hate to do it but until I know she's going to get along with Halston and Gizmo it's for the best.
Adopt don't shop.

Shelf life...

Since I haven't been writing much lately - which I attribute to stress - I've been bringing some of my dinosaurs down off the shelf. These are dino's I love, poured my heart into and bled on.
And now I can see they need more blood. It's time to tap a vein for them.
This led me to see how valuable that shelf time is. If I hadn't let this go and stuck it in that dark corner of my office I don't think I'd see what I see now.

One is a story I love and I basically tried tried to write from two heads. The heroine and the hero. And now, rereading it, I can see the error of my ways. I think this would definitely be better from the hero's head since it's really not a romance. (Although we do have a sexual interlude.) I can see hero being the driving force in what happens here, but there are times when we have to see the heroine's point of view because she's the only one in the room. So do I write as the omni presence in the room or do I go into her head?
Dilemma.
Help!
Any advice?
Do you shelve it for awhile before going back for the final draft? Does it help?

Waiting for her new life to begin...

This is Sally. She's a one and a half year old Feist mix. I think she might have some chihuahua in her too. She's about 10 lbs and pretty solid. She came up from North Carolina shelter yesterday with her five puppies in a truck that had about 50 big barking dogs. The truck stops at a designated meeting place and all the rescue groups show up to claim the dogs they agreed to take. For a little dog this can be a very scary situation. Sally was absolutely terrified. Even now her tail is tucked between her legs and she stays right by my side. At first she growled at Halston but now seems to accept that Halston is just a big goof who only wants food and attention. She spent most of the afternoon exploring the house and back yard then jumped up on the couch with me to nap. She slept for about two hours. I think she was exhausted.
The puppies were 10 weeks old and have gone to different foster families. Sally is staying with us until her forever family shows up.