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The letters to and from these characters are helping me a lot. For anyone who wants to read them from start to finish, I've given each character their own page of letters now so you can read them in chronological order. You can find the links over in the left sidebar. I'll append those pages after the new entries appear here.
Dear Author Who Thinks She's So Smart,
What did you think I was going to do when you put the opportunity right in front of me like that?
Signed,
Flyboy, grounded for the moment
Dear Author Whose Doing a Pretty Good Job Bringing Me to Life,
Mr. Mac explained to me how sometimes people do things without thinking and then later, it turns out that they meant to do it all along. But it was their subconcious that got things started. I don't know if that's true for me because I didn't even know Mr. Mac until I, well, until that first day when I just went ahead and did what someone paid me to do and then you know how THAT all turned out. I guess I could have said no but it didn't look like it would be that big of a deal. And I needed the money.
Maybe I knew something was going to happen. Sort of like the way dogs can tell an earthquake is coming only they can't tell the humans around them. So the dog starts acting all scared or goofy or something and the human hasn't got a clue as to what's going on. Maybe it was like that.
Or maybe it was just fate but Mr. Mac says believing in fate is for lazy folks who are afraid to dream.
Signed,
Plant Kid
PS - You think maybe you could tell me where I'm living because I see someone in the house with me but I sure as heck don't know who she is.
PPS - Sarcasm isn't going to change anything
Dear Author Who is just a big old Chicken you-know-what,
Yes, some people are going to be mad at you when you write my story but does that mean it shouldn't be written? Are you one of those people who just walks by the homeless people and wish they didn't exisit? Do you sit in your fancy house and push the remote control button every time you see a picture of a starving kid come up on the screen.
I've got news for you - pretending like something doesn't exist doesn't make it go away. Believe me, I've tried. Every night before I can fall asleep I pretend there isn't a monster in the house but every morning I wake up, he's still there.
My dad is the one who brought me and Max together for the first time. My real dad. Not that loser of a guy who convinced my mom to marry him just so he could get her money. I was scared of Max at first. He was pretty scary looking. Still is, only not to me anymore. That first time I met Max all I could think was how much I didn't want to tick him off because I knew it would be real messy in a hurry and that most of the mess would be me.
My dad thought me and Max needed each other. That made me laugh so hard that it made my dad laugh hard, hard enough to bring a crowd of people around us (we were sitting on the front porch) and pretty soon the whole neighborhood was laughing right along with us and me and Max, we were on our way to being best friends.
Signed,
Kid who misses his dad
Dear Flyboy,
Did you really think he wouldn't find out? Did you really think you wouldn't be punished? Really?
Author who thought you were smarter than that
Dear Plant Kid,
Nice entrance. How long do you think it will be before he starts speaking to you again?
And yes, I realize that you now have two, possibly three names, and that I am calling you by all of them at various times. I still like the first name best but there are several books already out with that character's name as the title so it simply won't work. If you don't like my choices, why don't you come up with something of your own?
Author with rocks in her head
Dear Friend of Max,
Tell me about the very first day you met Max, please. There is so much I don't understand.
Author who knows this story will make some people mad
Dear Author,
Isn't it enough that you're poking around in the thoughts in my head, now you want to know about the thoughts I have in my bedroom (which I might remind you is supposed to be a private place, as is the shower). No. Absolutely not. Girls are trouble. They mess with your head and play games and I don't have time for that. And you do remember my mother don't you? And what she did? With my luck any girl I meet will be just like my mother, ripping anything I love right out of my life and I don't think I could handle that. Back off, will ya?
Flyboy
Dear Author Who is Trying to Blame the Lack of Plot on Me,
I don't know much about a lot of things, especially writing books, but here's something Mr. Mac told me before he died. You've got to believe in things you can't see before you see things you won't believe. He was talking about gardening but I'm thinking it might work for telling stories too.
Here's the thing about gardening. You plant the seeds, water them sometimes, ignore them othertimes (especially if they're native plants) and then you wait. And while you're waiting, there's a whole lot of something going on under the ground, deep down in the dirt. Seeds are opening and roots are unfurling, stretching down deep toward the water table. Earthworms are churning the soil and tons little bugs and mites and tiny things we can't see are doing just what nature intends them to do. But up top all you can see is dirt. Piles and piles of dirt and not a stick of nothing growing in it nowhere. It'd be easy to give up then and just roll out some plastic grass and call it a day. But if you're the believing type, you just wait. And then you wait some more. And then one day you walk out and you see a lot of those seeds you plant have pushed their way up through the dirt just looking for the sunshine and blue sky. Some of them still wearing bits of the seed hull on their hat like a lopsided hat. And just like that, you have a garden.
So I'm thinking maybe plot is like that - there could be a whole lot of something going on under the surface of my story, you just need to plant the seeds.
Plant kid
Dear Author Ignoring My Story,
I gave you the first line of the book last night. It led you right to the first scene, with me and Max and meeting the gypsy lady for the first time. I know you remember it because I heard you repeating it before you went to sleep last night and in the shower AND on the way to work.
I'll visit Max as soon as you give ME a name and commit to my story.
Lost boy
Brrrrrrrrr. I've had a stomach bug today. It started last night and had really kicked in by this morning. I did this drawing in between vomiting (sorry, too much information). Which is my excuse for this piece of crap.
Dear Flyboy,
Thought I should warn you that Spencer is a girl. Yes, I realize that complicates things and puts the two of you in direction competition but cripes, you're almost 17 years-old, there must be hormones in there somewhere and this is the only way I could think of for me to find them. Can you at least pretend, for my sake?
Me
(PS - no, I don't think your gay.)
Dear Plant Kid,
You're older than I thought. Hmmm. Not sure what that is going to do to things. But worms? Now I have to learn about worms? I'll do it but you have to do something for me in return. As in, you have to DO SOMETHING other than plant plants and pull weeds.
Me
Dear Lost Boy,
I've done all I can for the moment to get rid of the BIG BAD THING in your life yet that doesn't make you feel as safe as it should. Why not? What do you know that I don't know? And why won't you visit Max?
Me
Dear Person Who THINKS She is in Charge of MY Story,
First I thought it was an accident. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe I meant to do it (which is dumb because I didn't even know that Mrs. B was going to be there. I didn't know she was going to have her iPod plugged in and turned up so loud that she wouldn't hear me coming. I mean, come on, old people don't use iPods, do they?) so I guess it was really just an accident.
And it's not like I killed her. If you kill someone it can't be an accident, can it? Killing someone is permanent. You can't undo it. You can't fix like you can fix a broken mailbox and a fence. She didn't even want to go inside. She just asked me to go into her house and bring out a couple of cans of soda.
But you can't trust anyone, don't you know that by now? And you really shouldn't trust me because I'll just let you down.
Signed,
Flyboy
Dear Author Whom I Know in Her Heart Really Wants to be Working on my story,
I can't tell you about my "thing" but maybe you should check the books on Mr. Mac's nightstand. Under the plant books, there's another one, a medical one. He's got the pages bookmarked.
Signed,
Kid with perpetually dirty fingernails
To anyone who reads this,
They took Max away today. They won't tell me where. I don't know if I will ever see him again.
I will never, ever forgive YOU for letting this happen. NEVER.
Signed,
The only person who REALLY loved Max
Dear Flyboy,
You are too nice. TOO NICE. Do you hear me? No kid is that nice, that good. Not all the time. Not unless they're hiding something. Are you? I didn't think you were the one with the secret in this book but I can't figure out any other reason for your perpetual Eddie Haskell attitude. If I, the author, am breathing life into you with pieces of me there's no way you can be that nice. No frigging way. Because I am sometimes a nice person but NOT ALL THE TIME.
What are you hiding? What are you afraid people are going to find out? What do you think they are going to do to you, think of you, when they know the truth.
This doesn't have anything to do with your dad at all, does it? This has to do with you trying to fake what kind of person you are so you can trick people into believing what you want them to be. But why?
Signed,
Author who is not feeling very nice at all
Dear Plant Kid,
Look, I'm really sorry about Mr. Mac dying. I had no idea that was going to happen until he walked in front of the garbage truck. You keep talking about that "thing" you have and I'm guessing its somewhere on your upper body since I've never seen you without your hoodie but I don't know what it is. And if I don't know what it is, how can I connect it to the plot line and deepen the theme? And if I don't connect the plot dots, no one is ever going to get the chance to read your story anyway. And yes, you can have the poppies. All the poppies you want. But later. I'm not supposed to be working on you right now anyway. If you're really bored, you can help Flyboy pack.
Author with too much time to think and not enough time to write
Dear Character Who is Taking Care of Max,
The gypsy's back. But she moved. Check out the vacation rentals over by the roller coaster. Whatever you do, don't antagonize "him." Whatever he says to you, just walk away.
Author who has your back
Dear Author,
Yes I broke my promise to my dad. So what! I had a chance to do something important to me for a change and I took it. I am sick and tired of trying to be like Mr. Perfect. Gag! Besides, now that we're moving, he'll never know about it, will he?
Unless you tell him. And you better not. You know what happens when people snitch. You remember what happened, don't you? Uh huh. I thought you might.
How about helping me pack up my room now?
Your MC
Dear Word Person,
Do you have ANY idea how important Mr. Mac was to me? You don't, do you? If you did you wouldn't be trying to make me leave the yard. Mr. Mac was the only one who understood me. He didn't care about my, well, you know. It didn't matter to him. For someone who reads a lot of books you're not very bright, are you?
Disgruntled and dirty character without a name to call his own
Dear person who is ignoring me,
I refuse to call you the author of my story because you're not working on it. It's cold out here. I'm hungry. Max doesn't look too good. There's a lot of blood from where, well, you know. I'm pretty sure his leg is broke too. But you don't care about any of that, do you? The gypsy lady would help, I know she would, but I think they scared her off for good this time.
What am I supposed to do now?
Max's protector
I am almost loathe to do this because
janni does it so well but since I am giving her full credit for the idea, I hope she won't mind me copying her idea. It's the most writing I am able to manage of late.
Dear Main Character in my current WIP,
Why in the world would you make that kind of a deal with your dad? It doesn't make any sense to me that you would agree to stop doing what you love doing more than anything else unless you were forced into it. What happened? Why won't you tell me? Keeping it a secret from me isn't going to help you one bit. If you don't tell me soon I'll be forced to go back to the plant book and let you stew on your own. Either that or I'll let the girl fly instead. What do you think about that? Humph!
With the deepest frustration,
me
Dear Main Character in the plant book that I am not supposed to be working on at all,
I can't set an entire novel in your backyard, no matter who's buried there. Do something, will you please?
Plotlessly yours,
me
Dear Max,
They'll find you. They always do. I'm sorry.
Worriedly,
me
I had a dream the other night about a bear opening our kitchen window and sticking his nose inside. It's that time of year when the last of the bears are frantically fattening up for winter--their footprints are everywhere in the surrounding woods, and their incidents of breaking and entering are
all over the news. It's certainly enough to give anyone nightmares, and the heebie jeebies when taking out the trash at night. I'm hoping any bear that attempts to visit our cabin is the friendly sort.... or at least friendlier than the scary bear in my dream. Henceforth, my friendly doodle bear.
Tis also the time of year that my
most frequent client is preparing for snow in their own feverish way. The result--I'm a busy busy bee. Holy graphic design in a hurry. Thank goodness because I could use some new warm wool socks.
Oh, and BTW, I am totally enamored with Pitt Pens. Especially my big fat set of brush tips in every color imaginable. Great fun.

Watercolor on board
4.5 x 6
I'm working on a story about socks, so am doing some sock studies.
Warm, nubby, cozy, soft, hand knitted socks are the best!
Knitting socks is apparently not too hard, once you figure out the heel thing. They get done on 3 or 4 or even 5 double point needles, which makes them look very very difficult and complicated. One of these days I'll try some.
(Let me just go put that on my to-do list...)
...I'm photographing my feet.

Why? Because Linda Urban (
lurban) asked me to, and she's a very cool writer person.
(My mother, who reads my blog, is now saying, "Well, if this lurban person asked you to jump off a bridge, would you do that, too?")
Well no. Plus, it's also because I really loved her book, A CROOKED KIND OF PERFECT, and if my fuzzy striped feet help her get the word out, then it was worth almost falling off the piano bench while I leaned over to take the photo. You can read my review of the book here.
If you check out my friends list, you'll see just what kind of power Linda has (or how much people like Neil Diamond...hard to tell) because there are cool socks showing up on blogs as far as the eye can see. (Hey, Linda...does this kind of make you want to ask people to do other crazy things to see if they'll really do it?)
Linda would like to see your socks, too, and if you post them on your website or blog (or send her a photo), she'll enter you in a contest to win a signed copy of her book, a pair of toe socks, and Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits. (If you've already read CROOKED, you will NOT roll your eyes at that.)

I just finished this one a few moments ago. It is influenced by the popularity of high socks amongst Japanese girls (I am a fan too), the extraordinary amount of wiring and electronic equipment hanging of the side of buildings and electricity poles, and lastly an interesting type of wild grass I saw growing in a park.

Don't you just hate when this happens?
I'm amazed you could draw at all! Looks pretty good to me. Especially getting stripes to go round the folds. Hope its just a 24 hour bug and you're feeling better soon!
so now i wonder if i should tell you i think they're amazing? that's a lot of detail and patience for a sickie. Wow!
hmmm, i'm feeling pretty sicky today too ... so why is it I can't draw brilliant 'crap' like this? Hmm?
I came here to know why you called this a piece of crap. I agree with Mariana... if stomach bugs had these kinds of consequences on my drawings, i'm willing to be sick every day.
It must be your eyes that are sick because this is just great!!
What a piece of crap!!! Oh..whoops...did I write that?
What are you talking about anyway? This is spectacular! Hope you start feeling better soon!
Uh, this looks like your usual amazingly wonderful work to me Andrea. Hope you're soon feeling better!
Yeah, too much information. Sorry, hope you feel better now. Being able to draw in the circumstances though is amazing. When I'm crook, I just want to whinge and curl up and complain.
w.
Hope you felling better know!
And I like your piece of crap I could you do it, being sick? Your have a great talent!
Um, I like it....
sorry your feeling ill. I must really love crap...cause I love this drawing.
You have my sympathy - but your socks are lovely. Do hope you are better today.
What would the socks look like if you drew them when you were fit and well?
Hope you're over the beastly bug.
This is NOT a piece of crap! This is a wonderful drawing of some lovely, warm, fuzzy socks, drawn exquisitely! You just feel lousy, that's all!
Thank you all so much. I'm feeling much better already after reading all these kind comments! Nope, I'm over the bug and seeing things in a different light. Perhaps they're not so bad...perhaps.
Cheers folks you make my day.
I think they are amazing too! And I wish I could draw so well on a healthy day! Glad you are feeling better.
When you do simple objects or few objects you use to make non symmetric layouts. This is a centered composition but full of movement and tension (maybe there was enough "asymmetry" in your stomach). Anyway I agree with France: if feeling sick produces this, I could treat.
On my best day, I wish (someday I will) I could draw this well...hope your feeling better, I really love your art...
I'm sorry you've been under the weather. I hope you're feeling better by now. You must have had a fever too because you'd have to be delirious to think this drawing is crap. I LOOOOOVE these socks.
I felt the same way, and that must be the reason I was not able to produce a drawing of half the worth of this one! My response was to chug Pepto Bismol and take a nap. Yours was to draw wonderfully detailed socks. I hope you feel better now.
Your socks made me smile. They are groooovy! :)
Hope the buggies have gone...
I do wonder what your definition of 'crap' is! ;)
its BEAUTIFUL!
OH, I hate those tummy bugs! I'm glad you're over it now. As to the socks.....FANTASTIC!
Thank you all peeps. All better now.
Cheers.
If only I could do this kind of 'crap'.....
Huh??? Crap? I think it's great! They really look like socks, which i do not think just anyone can render, and certainly not as well as you do! Hope you are feeling better.