Mom and More

Everything I Know About Character, I Learned on the Playground

2012-01-01T05:42:00.001-06:00

It’s a fact of life, if you play your hardest, your ass is going to hit the blacktop. If the fall is bad enough to break something, you’re allowed to cry for a minute or two. Otherwise, rub some dirt on it and get back in the game.

Most games are full of bad calls. You’d take the ones that go in your favor easy enough.
Don’t whine about the ones that go against you.

Nobody likes a snitch. Not even the teachers.

You’ll never feel good about a game you had to win by cheating.

Nobody likes to lose, but it’s way more fun with friends on your team to laugh with.

Not all of the “Teacher’s Rules” apply. Sometimes they’re just plain stupid. Never hurt a
friend to follow a rule.

You’ll find a lot of friends to laugh with, and lots more when you have something to
share. But the best friends are the ones who are still on your side, even when you’re dead wrong.

Nice guys really do finish last a lot of the time. But they’d feel a lot worse finishing first if they had to be a son of a bitch to do it.

Gum, candy, and any other contraband that’s against the rules always taste sweeter
when you’ve got a buddy to share it with.

A quick wit, when used properly, can garner you more attention than looks or money.

A quick wit, when not used properly, will teach you how to fight.

There is no “Time Out” in a fight. There are also no rules. The only real aim is to
be the last one standing, so know what you’re getting into before you run your
mouth or swing. (Fight stories always sound way cooler than a black eye feels).

Sometimes the kid picked last for a team will be the one who wins the game. Never discount anyone.

You’re not going to be the best at everything, but most of the kids around you are too
busy worrying about how good they’re doing to notice anyway.

The most genuine people are the ones who do their good deeds by stealth. Don’t put too much faith in the guy who does you a favor, but reminds you of it in front of others.

Trying to make someone feel small makes you smaller.

Never pick on the weaker kid. You might get lucky enough to have a bunch of people around you that won’t stand up for him, but they’ll secretly wish a bigger kid pummels you later. Eventually they’ll all be bigger kids.

Sometimes doing the right thing will get you in trouble. Better to take a punishment than to have to live with not doing the right thing.

As you can tell, we cursed a bit on my playground. And to be honest, everything I learned about character I learned from my father first – life just has a way of reinforcing its truths. And it’s really never more honest than it was in the beginning, before people start holding their tongues to stay polite.

Which bit of character did you pick up on the playground?

Quiet Integrity (Happy Holidays)

2011-12-18T20:51:00.003-06:00

Thecompany I work for is a family owned business, so the Christmas party was asmall affair at my boss’s house. Sittingaround the table, exchanging stories, the writer in me was keenly reminded thateach of us has stories, and each person in our circle encompasses some role,often becoming the hero of a funny anecdote or personal family gem.

Generally,each person in our circle serves some larger purpose that we don’t even payvery much attention to on a regular basis. There’s always the one person who can be called upon, day or night, whowould give you everything they have because you need it. There’s always one person everyone gravitatesto, sometimes fun or childish or just charismatic. There are as many labels as you can think ofbut, for the most part, any community only works as well as each of themembers. Humanity’s an odd beast. It takes advantage of the weak and feeds offthe charitable, and it never ceases to amaze me how often people mistakekindness for weakness.

WhenI tell stories about my family, whether they’re tales from my own childhood orthose of my children, I almost always tell the funny ones. You’ll hear me mention Gracie Girl perhapsthe most, because she’s a smart ass. Shesupplies ample material for daily comedy. Littlest Guy will get many a mention as well – he has that spark, thatintangible thing that makes people gravitate to him. You could see it in him from day one,children flock to him and adults adore him.

Ithink when you prefer to laugh, or want something light hearted and fun, thoseare the kind of personalities that make for good heroes.

Myoldest son has always been quiet and more to himself. He’s quick and intelligent, but doesn’t oftenseek out a spotlight. There are homemovies from his 3^rd birthday – throughout the entire video, Graciegirl is right in front of the camera, singing and prancing and tellingjokes. Littlest guy is babbling andgrinning and charming the hell out of everyone. And there’s Johnny, off in the background, playing with a car he got asa present… and when his one year old brother came up to where he was playing,Johnny handed him the car and showed him how to do it.

Peopleare always telling me how thoughtful and polite he is, as if I have anything todo with it. He was gifted with agenerous soul. It’s not something I didas a parent, it’s intrinsically who he is.

Therewas the time I had all three of them lined up to find out who didsomething. I don’t even remember what itwas, but all three of them said the universal “I don’t know”. At a loss for what to do, I grounded allthree of them. Johnny said, “Sorry,Mom. I did it. Gracie and DJ shouldn’t have to be grounded,too.”

I found out way later that his little brother did it, Johnny just said he did andtook the punishment for him. You canteach a kid not to snitch, but you can’t teach that.

Afew Christmases ago, Santa got a new Nintendo DS for Johnny. His brother broke his a few months prior, andhe was way worse on those things than Johnny ever had been – Johnny’s a kid younever have to tell to take care of his things or do his homework. So Santa figured, Johnny should get the newone, and DJ could get Johnny’s old one. A few days before Christmas, DJ broke Johnny’s Nintendo. Santa didn’t have the time or funds to gettwo, so I kinda figured, Johnny gets the new one and I knew he’d share, andthen DJ could get one for his birthday.

Christmasmorning, we all came down and there, with DJ’s toys from Santa, was the brandnew Nintendo. Johnny got up earlier thaneveryone else, and moved it to DJ’s pile. He said Santa must’ve made a mistake because DJ wanted one so much morethan he did.

Inthe grand circle of things, I can see him being the ant – all the grasshoppersare out playing while he works and saves, and then he gives them anything theyneed because they need it, without taking anything for himself. He reminds me of Beth, from Little Women, whoalways tugged at my heart more than any other character.

AndI worry about him being taken advantage of, because people don’t see kindnessfor what it is, and they don’t understand generosity for its own sake. But when I get past the lump in my throat atanything that might hurt him, I hope he never loses that.

Maybethe world would be a better place if we prized quiet integrity more than wittyquips.

I Haven't Been Writing

2011-10-18T23:59:00.001-05:00

Ihaven’t been writing.

I’vebeen paging in at blogs that used to be my regular habitat… like a voyeur…staring in through windows. Some of themstained glass and breathtaking, some with gell clings letting light shinethrough in colorful splashes, some quaint, some gritty, and all beautiful.

Iwas out with a friend a few weeks back and someone asked me what I did for aliving, and I kind of froze… trying I guess to figure out how to explain myjob, which encompasses a lot of things, from data entry to report coallation toweb design… and my friend said, “She’s a writer.”

Iswear to you, I turned around to see who the hell she was talking about.

Oh,yeah. Me. I think that’s me. Or it used to be me.

I’vedone that a few times over the past few months – paged up old blogs or facebookstatuses, and read something I said a year ago… and then I remember, I was awriter. I’ve picked up books, and falleninto them like I’ve found the only place that I could ever rest my head, andthen I remember, oh yeah, I was a writer. In the middle of a rather hectic day, with no break in sight, brand newshiny idea popped right into my head, like the urge to get these people down onthe page never abandoned me… of course, I couldn’t stop what I was doing toencourage it, but still, it was better than the silence.

Ohmy God the fucking silence.

Ifany of you ever heard of Padre Pio, he was a monk, now a saint… I once readthat he said he knew what hell was. Itwasn’t fire and brimstone and demons assailing you. It was the absence of God. It was not being able to feel Him, to hearHim, to know He was with you. It was thesilence.

AndI’m sure some people will read this and think, “Really, you’re comparingtelling stories to God?” Yeah, Iam. And it’s not some sappy bit aboutthe muse being divine and these stories being salvation… but the absence of it,the loss of that compulsion, it’s like they took all the air out of theroom. You don’t even think about airwhen you’re breathing fine, it’s about the only thing you can think of whenyou’re drowning, though.

Thereare a million lofty sentiments people throw at you when you’re not doing sowell. “God never gives you more than youcan handle.”

Thefuck He doesn’t. Why do you think peopledrink themselves stupid or throw themselves in front of trains? More than they could handle, I’d say. And I used to think, somewhere deep downwhere the real scared little shit who makes up excuses for why the boogy mancould never get me lives, that those people were weak, or quitters, orsomething. Something I wasn’t.

Ialways love stories about underdogs. Ilove it, in real life and in fiction, when someone beats the odds, fights theirway through, finds their happy ending against great odds. No one ever tells youhow to see the beauty in failing. Thetruth is, most people fail. Somegracefully, some kicking and screaming, some taking as many people with them asthey can grab onto.

Sothe blog’s been silent. My head’s beensilent. Maybe it’s just a down cycle… ora reflective year. And I don’t think Icare so much if I fail anymore… but I’d really rather do it with the voices inmy head chattering away again.

Guest Post - Mark Terry (bet you wished he was at YOUR blog...)

2011-06-08T08:36:00.005-05:00

Today, as a special treat, Mark Terry is guest posting at the blog. I have an awesome photo in which he looks quite handsome and writerly and such, but blogger's being a bitch, so you guys miss out...sorry.... I did, however, get it to post the cover for his latest release, THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS. I'm not going to take up much of your time with a long and winding introduction about how unbelievably brilliant he is - his writing more than speaks for itself... so go ahead, read the blog...

Snakes on Brokeback Mountain

Mark Terry

I have on more than one occasion thought back to an interview given by Samuel L. Jackson when he was promoting, "Snakes On A Plane." The interviewers kept sort of prodding him about the seriousness of the role, and at some point, partly in frustration, he said, "Look, we're not talking 'Snakes On Brokeback Mountain.' We're talking 'Snakes On A Plane.'"

This resonated strongly with me, especially after I stopped laughing. Because what Samuel L. Jackson was saying was, "We're not talking about a movie likely to win the Academy Awards or go down in film history as a great work of art. It's a horror movie!"

I recently read a Vanity Fair (or perhaps it was Esquire) piece on Jake Gyllenhaal promoting “Source Code.” Someone in the article noted that Jake was a really, really serious actor with a lot of very serious ambitions, but at some point during the filming of “The Day After Tomorrow” somebody took him aside and said, “Jake, take off the tuxedo and stop practicing your acceptance speech. We’re making a disaster film here.”

And one of the reasons it resonates with me is that sometimes critics don't get it. One of my key criteria when I reviewed books was: "Did the author accomplish what they were trying to accomplish?"

So if you're writing an adventure novel and it's not exciting, but it sure has plenty of imagery and symbolism and seems "literary," I can't help but feel the author may have missed the point. Example: "The Crown of Columbus," by Louise Erdich and Michael Dorris. This story is about a historian (I think) who may have clues to where a "crown" of some sort is hidden that Christopher Columbus brought with him while exploring the New World. In point of fact, the crown is the crown of thorns that Christ wore when he was crucified. This novel had all the makings of "The Da Vinci Code" only it was written about 15 years earlier, and although the writing was without a doubt better than Dan Brown's, it was not, to my mind, a better book. Why? Because the authors had a different agenda than writing an adventure novel. They were writing a mainstream "literary" novel and as a result, the novel seemed schizophrenic and didn't - to my mind - succeed as either thing. It sure as hell wasn't "thrilling" or "exciting" or an "adventure." But critics liked it and so did plenty of readers who knew what they were getting.

I don't want to get too much into the art versus commerce argument here, although I actually have pretty strong opinions on the subject. But I do want to make a point. The process is almost entirely identifical.

Let me say that again: The process of creating art and creating a commercial book (movie, etc) is almost completely identical.

The process that Samuel L. Jackson and the director and the writer and all the other actors in "Snakes On A Plane" took is almost entirely identical to the process they would take if they had been making "Ghandi" or "Brokeback Mountain" or "Casablanca."

Yes, it's possible people will walk their way through their work. Yes, it's possible they'll do it entirely for money.

My point here is when Samuel L. and company decided to make "Snakes On A Plane" they decided they wanted a film that was scary and fun and thrilling and suspenseful and funny and designed to give laughs and shivers and screams, etc.

When everybody concerned went about making "Brokeback Mountain," they weren't looking to make scary and fun and thrilling and suspenseful; they were intent on raising another set of emotions and moving people to think and to feel a certain thing.

The PROCESS is essentially the same. The INTENTION is different.

And for the record, I've never seen "Brokeback Mountain," because it's not my type of movie, ie., a romance (the gay theme doesn't bother me). I love romantic comedies, but straight romances, like "The Horse Whisperer" leave me cold. For that matter, I’ve never seen "Snakes On A Plane." Although I love thrillers, I hate snakes. Yeah, me and Indiana Jones. Although the snakes in "Raiders of the Lost Ark" don't bother me that much, I can guarantee you that I would have a hard time with "Snakes On A Plane" and all its POV shots of slithering snakes. It's a family joke: "Let's drag Dad into the reptile house at the Detroit Zoo."

Pssssst - Thank you, Mark, for taking the time to write such an awesome article for my little blog...

I'm sure Mark will be by in comments, so please feel free to extend the conversation - I loves that...

How Do You Know When You've Found Your Voice?

2011-05-27T15:43:00.000-05:00

There’s a lot about writing that seems almost mystical – to people who don’t write, and even to those of us breathing in this damn, frustrating, lovely, mind-sucking, hole of death what we call writing.

One of the things you hear most often is VOICE. Big sparkly letters here, because that’s the onus us writing folk put on voice. It’s kind of like literary fiction – no one can tell you how to do it, but we sure the fuck know it when we see it. And then we get even more confusing about it – insisting that an author not only capture his or her own distinctive voice, but also capture each character’s voice. And the character’s voice has to be separate from the writer’s voice… and each character has to have their own voice so that you don’t have cardboard bullshit characters… oh, and don’t use any petty trickery or overused catch-phrases so that your reader literally rolls their eyes and tosses your book in a moldy laundry pile rather than finish it. We talk non-stop about craft and technique and grammar. We beat other works about the head and ears for feats of stupidity or, worse, purple prose.

Can you hear my voice? I bet you can. I can. I know it’s there and I know what it sounds like and guess what – it’s grammatically flawed as all hell. It doesn’t follow any of the rules. Okay, it follows some of the rules, but mostly by accident. You get to a point where you know them backwards and forwards and have to toss them out the window to get comfortable in your skin and say what you have to say. Because the bottom line in voice is communication. That’s it – plain and simple.

That’s all this really is – saying something. Saying something important, life changing, immortal, embarrassing, consuming, eloquent, clever, or blatant… I like blatant, myself. It often has a dry wit all its own. That’s all we’re trying to do here, whether it’s through articles or blog posts or works of fiction. We’re saying something – and in order to communicate, if you’re really good at it, you need to make sure your audience gets it. If your audience is full of high brow fancy schmancy types… go get a thesaurus so they don’t feel slighted by your mundane language – and leave your fucking profanity at the door. If your audience is full of deep thinkers, be more concerned with the ideas than the way they’re couched – deep thinkers don’t care what it looks like to the outside world. They’re not in it to impress anyone else. They want the essence of a story or idea that will make their mind take off… say it in pig latin, if it’s brilliant, they’ll still go with you.

But what you’re saying seems beside the point when you’re talking about voice, right? It’s part of it, but I’ll get back to that. Voice is most often categorized as the flavor of the way you say things, kind of like an accent on the page. And yeah, I can hear New York or Southern Charm, or an Irish Brogue. But it’s not just that.

Remember when you were in high school? Remember when you wanted all the cool kids to like you, or when you started digging combat boots and dyed your hair and spoke in Violent Femmes lyrics? Remember when you stole little phrases from rock stars or friends that were just too fucking cool? Remember that kid, teetering on the curb, trying to get his bearings and up his courage to walk in the middle of the road, pretty as you fucking please? That kid. The one who wanted to be someone special, but didn’t know quite how to get there so he borrowed bits from here and there and adapted other bits that might have been his or maybe they were scrapped up from somewhere else… and he wore them like a mantle of independent thinking – just like everybody else.

Yeah, well if your voice is that – you’re doing it wrong.

The problem with that kid is he was playing at being someone other people might admire. He wasn’t there yet. His confidence was low and his braggadocio was borrowed. That’s not where your voice comes from. You can’t borrow someone else’s… scratch that, you can, actually… if you’ve got a really good ear for language (and if you’re a writer, we’ll assume that you do), you can, in fact, mimic another writer… another person… adopt it and wear it and put it out there… but you won’t have developed YOUR voice.

And they’ll tell you that no one can help you find your voice. There are no instructions to get there or develop it or bring it out. Which is probably true – every journey seems to be as different as every writer. A writer friend recently told me that he could tell that I turned a corner. That my writing voice was the strongest he’d ever seen it. That I was ready. And I think I am. I am more confident in my writing and my voice than I ever was before. So how did I get there? I stopped giving a shit about any of the people who were not going to “get” me. That was it. That simple. I stopped tempering my language because people who don’t know me might mistake my profanity for ignorance. I stopped rethinking overlarge words that fit or mundane words that weren’t impressive enough, and I said what I had to say… and then I edited the hell out of it. (Anyone who tells you voice is natural and comes with no editing is a moron… writing is more editing than writing… when I find a writer who doesn’t follow that, I don’t want to read them.)

Oh, and what you have to say… remember? I said we’d get back to that. Voice and theme go hand in hand as far as I can tell. And some writers have more than one theme that they work with, some may not pay any attention to it at all… they’re just telling a story and don’t notice that their stories all have the same finite number of themes. YOU have something to say. You wouldn’t be writing if you didn’t have anything to say. There is something deeper to this profession than sheer love of words… and yeah, that’s part of it, but it’s not the whole. If I only loved the words, I’d be perfectly content to devour great works by other authors. But it’s not only that with us, we have something to say, and that something, whether deep or frivolous, something to move us or move mountains, something just to make us laugh, that’s as imperative to our voice as the way we turn a phrase. You just can’t have a voice with nothing to vocalize… it would just be a hum, or a moan, or a whimper.

So how did you find your voice? And what have you got to say? Figured out your themes yet?

Manufacturing Time

2011-05-16T19:29:00.001-05:00

Some time ago, the awesomeness that is Stephen Parrish, posted a personal story and asked for his readers’ stories in return. I read his post and it moved me, and instead of posting, I sent him an email… the funny thing was, as I was sending him an essay length personal story for no reason other than it struck me, Stephen was sending me a simple, “Doing okay over there?” out of the blue.

Because he’s one of the good ones. One of those writer friends who knows when the rest of the world is beating your ass and takes the time to tell you to get over it and write already.

He wrote me back to tell me to publish that essay. To put it out there. I don’t take things Stephen says about writing lightly. I’ve never seen him compliment anything that didn’t have extreme merit, so on that note it did what Stephen always does – made me feel like writing.

My status update today on facebook was, “wishes I could figure out how to manufacture more time in a day”. And lately I’ve been downright whiney about my lack of time which has culminated in an absence of writing which sometimes feels like a lack of air. The stories are still there, the characters still knock on my eyeballs and kick around the cobwebbed corridors in my noggin… but they’re getting softer, harder to hear, farther away from lack of listening. Pretty soon they’ll find windows to break in someone else’s head… okay, maybe not, but I think it’s like a muscle. Writing isn’t all muse and fluff and magical inspiration. It’s sit in the fucking chair, get your shit together, and do the work. When you can’t find the time to do that, you have to make it.

Yes, I can manufacture time. Twenty minutes later to bed, a half an hour earlier in the morning… less facebook, more Microsoft word. I’ve done this before. Gone without sleep to write. Gone without tv or social time or whatever… And I logged back into facebook today, and saw that quote up on my page and thought, “Well, hell, you whiney bitch, what’s wrong with right now?”

So it starts with a blog post. While dinner’s on the stove… I’m not allowing myself sleep until I hit a decent word count. Time to stop lamenting the woes of my little corner of the world and get on with it… that’s the one thing about being creative by nature... you have to find the wherewithal to push yourself. No one else will do it; no one else cares if you make it. It’s up to you to manufacture your time.

Where do you find the time? Is it a routine or whenever the fancy strikes? And do you wait for the elusive muse, or hog tie her ass and make her stick around til the word count is in?

Poetry Corner: Meet Dina Darling

2011-04-29T07:46:00.004-05:00

This is Dina Darling:

This is her latest release:

In honor of the release of her latest poetry book, Winter’s Fierce Breath, she’s allowed me to interview her here on the blog… now, I thought of all sorts of ways to introduce Ms. Darling – reams of words about how cool she is… but really, in this case, I think I’ll let her writing speak for itself. Here’s one of my favorites from her latest release:

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO

Love is shaded
Threads of lies
Loose at the seams
The ins and outs of consciousness
The toast to new beginnings failed
When the kiss of death touched my lips

I don’t want to be wrong about you
I won’t allow myself
To be so wrong
The marching band screams in my ears
Your symbol clangs a melody out of tune
On my heel
Here they come
Throwing their warnings in my face
I can listen or I can ignore them
All I know is that I’m torn

A web you’ve got me slow-dancing in
The bareness of complication
Wants a little freedom
Keep collecting your numbers
You’ve run out of vindications
Where do you find all the energy?
To take a stab at falling asleep for the night
When you’re right back up doing it again
Melted alarm clocks
Fluorescent signs
Reflect the sadness that you’re hiding
In the dark puddles below the street lights

Why can’t I cut you loose?
What am I so scared of?
WHY AM I AFRAID?
To just slam the door and walk away
You will never be good for me
You’ll always be the ache in my affection
Running away with little fragments of me
Why do you have to be so cruel?
Why do you have to have?
The wit and the appeal
That keeps me feeling alive
When I’m a little nervous to even breathe.

Me: Who are your favorite poetic influences?

Dina Darling: I love to dive into the worlds of Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, Amy Lowell, Veronica Franco and Sylvia Plath.

Me: Your poetry is (beautiful, meltingly beautiful) but also very personal and often erotic... do you ever have issues censoring yourself or worry about what people will think when they read it?

Dina Darling: I have to admit I felt quite embarrassed knowing my Mom had read my first book. She was the only one I worried about as if I would shock her or something, but hey she's been there too. There are so many aspects of myself that I share in my words. Poetry is my escape. I refuse to be censored. It is what it is. I become a raging sea of explored emotions when I write. The wall comes down. I will swallow you whole. I truly am an open book with absolutely nothing to hide. Sometimes I believe that people have this goody two shoe, wholesome innocent projection of me and nothing else. That's only a mere speck of who I am. Read my books and you'll see the very heart and soul of me. I always stand by something my Grandmother used to tell me. "Half of the world will love you, half of the world will hate you." You can't please everyone.

Me: This is your second poetry book. What was your main goal in Winter's Fierce Breath, and in what ways did that goal differ from your first release?

Dina Darling: Winter's Fierce Breath is a continuation for me. It's the next chapter after The Safety of Madness. It's a constant struggle of self discovery. For me, both books are an autobiography. Every poem is truth. I write with steel backbone because I'm not afraid to put myself out there. I don't cower from the experiences I've had in the obstacle of love, whether good or bad. I am a pillar of passion longing to stop the search and find my happy ending. I am a hopeless romantic fool on display for all to see. The goals are actually similar in both books. A lesson to myself that no matter how many times love knocks the wind out of me, I have to get right back up and surrender myself completely once again. Because there is always light after dark. Love shall succeed.

Me: Do you have a favorite place to write or work on your poetry or any special routine to your writing?

Dina Darling: I find inspiration creeps up on me in the middle of the night. Once the chaos of the day breaks and my head hits the pillow, all these words start calling out to me. I always keep a pen and notebook handy on my nightstand. Though I write whenever the inspiration hits. There isn't really a routine. It could be anywhere. I just make sure I grab something to write on, newspaper, napkin, etc...depending on my location.

Me: Do you specialize only in poetry, or do you write in other genres?

Dina Darling: Funny thing is I never saw myself as a writer. It was the encouragement of my high school English teacher Ms. Clarry. She saw potential through my writing assignments. She told me to take a stab at entering the short story/poetry contest. I ended up winning second place prose. I then began to explore the world of short stories later realizing that poetry was more my forte. It is a million times more rewarding to express myself lyrically than in any other form of writing.

Dina will be sticking around to talk in comments. Feel free to ask her questions and tell her how gorgeous she is. And please consider picking up one of her poetry books, Winter’s Fierce Breath or her earlier release, The Safety of Madness.

Laugh and the World Laughs With You. Cry and You Cry Alone

2011-02-26T09:06:00.001-06:00

That’s one of those little ditties we all heard growing up… and it’s kind of true. There are those friends who, when you’ve hit that rough patch, will move hell and high water to make you smile. Who can find joy, even in the worst of times and somehow let it rub off on you. We loves them. We aspire to be one of them. But you’ll notice that those friends are far and few between. Most people will scatter to the wind, and let you deal with your stuff on your own and come back around when your mood is better and the world is righted. Because no one really wants to stand ringside for the bloody massacre – and in their cowardly defense, when you wallow in it and can’t find your joy, you become a psychic vampire who drags everyone around you down to your dark place. And most people can’t function and find joy with all of that.

On the surface, fiction seems like it works differently. (Doesn’t it always?) We look for high emotion, we strive to infuse every page with conflict and, of course, conflict suggests more pain than joy. But dig beneath the surface. Yeah, man, put your character through the paces, make his world crumble and make a good portion of it through his own faulty choices. Make him squirm. BUT – don’t let him whine about it. See, there’s the balance. It’s not the fact that the world is crumbling that makes us read, root, breathe it in – it’s the fact that this character is so extraordinary that he never lets it beat him.

There were a bunch of people who complained about the fifth Harry Potter book. The character went in a new and darker direction. Some of the battles he had already faced started wearing on him, compounded by the fact that he was a moody teenager. I think it was well done, because really, there’s no way that character got where he was and didn’t show signs of wear – it wouldn’t have felt right, and I think it was a good choice for the author altogether. BUT – she’d earned our attention through four previous novels of building this world and our relationship with these people. THAT wouldn’t have worked in a first novel. We wouldn’t have known him well enough. We would’ve thrown our hands up and said, “Get over it already!”

When someone tells me that something I wrote made them cry, I have to admit I get a little jolt of happy. Not because I made them sad, but because my words moved them. It’s not easy to move people armed with little more than your warped thoughts and manner of painting in language. And that’s the whole goal for me in writing, to bring the reader in and make them feel something; to know they walk away with a new perspective, a poetic phrase, a blooming thought to be dissected at their leisure. I want to do for them what a million writers before have done for me. It’s a lofty goal when you think about it.

Where life and fiction intersect is the place I think you have to keep your eyes on to do this. Fiction is high conflict. You’re barreling into all of the things you’d avoid in your real life. But fiction doesn’t whine (which you’d likely do if faced with some of the paces your characters go through). You can’t root for a character who takes to their bed and sobs. For the same reason many a fair weather friend will take a powder when you hit that patch in your real life – I told you it intersected. We follow characters who are in some way extraordinary. They don’t get through it unscathed, but they get through it without losing their spirit. They do things that we would never have the courage to do in our regular lives. But sometimes I think pulling a little bit of that chutzpah from your fiction and adopting it for yourself wouldn’t be such a bad idea, either.

Thoughts? Where does fiction and life intersect for you? What rules don’t apply to fiction but apply to life… and vice versa?

Fitting It In

2011-02-01T09:51:00.000-06:00

So, it’s that time again… time to account for my Koala Challenge pointage for the month of January. I managed three…

I did the introduction comment at McKoala’s blog for 1 point. It was really kind of a freebie, but whatever, it’s mine, all mine!

I managed to finish and submit one regional parenting magazine article for 1 point.

And I managed to write, edit, gather critiques on, and re-edit the pitch for my query letter for 1 point.

I did write a bit of new fiction, but not enough for the point.

Normally, I’m really annoyed with myself when I do that little in a whole month. But when I sat down to look at where I was spending my time, it couldn’t be helped. I have literally spent no less than 30 hours each week looking through job postings, writing, re-writing and tweaking cover letters, submitting them to various companies, and filling out online employment applications. Outside of all that, I’ve been working through a temp service when they can get me office positions. I’m hoping one of those turns into a permanent position, or maybe one of my resumes/interviews lands me one. Oh, yeah, and then there’s the whole full-time parenting of three children, heading up the Band Contest Committee for the event coming up in a few weeks (which meant finding and scheduling 33 volunteers), and rebuilding my house with limited (read as no) funds. It is what it is. I need a regular, stable income. My kids need to be fed, taken care of, and watched over. And there’s only so much time in a day… I’ve tried to change that last one, but it’s not going over so well.

I’ve actually been looking for a job, off and on, for the past two years or so. It wasn’t so imperative then, I could make do with a little extra money freelance writing here and there, and budget out things at the time. But a number of people have said things along the lines of, “Oh, well what you really need is a creative writing position. You wouldn’t be happy in just any job.” Meaning that I wouldn’t be happy in office work, I’d guess, as that’s primarily what I’m looking for… it always strikes me as odd how people categorize you. First of all, those comments are almost always made from the standpoint of someone who’s never had something shut off because they couldn’t pay a bill. Seriously, any job is a good job if you enjoy it, work hard at it, and it allows you to live.

And, oddly enough, I like secretarial work. I do. I think the skills I’ve developed writing all translate awesomely to running or helping to run an office. Does that mean I’ll stop writing when I find a full time job? No. I won’t stop breathing, either. There are plenty of writers out there who are brilliant at what they do on the page, but it won’t pay the mortgage. I also tend to think that a career outside of writing gives you more experience and self to speak from when you do sit down at the keyboard. The trick is fitting it all in.

So how do you do it? Do you write full time or outside of your regular career and family obligations?

Having a Handle on Your Own Health

2011-01-26T21:39:00.000-06:00

I tend to be the person in my family that everyone goes to when they have a problem. I think every family has one of these. Maybe it’s because I’m the only girl with two brothers, or maybe I just tend to be that way – the kind of person who pays attention to things like when someone’s birthday is, or which doctor to recommend. I also tend to be the person with the information – why dial 411, when I can give you the number for free?

I remember my dad calling me one afternoon out of the blue and asking me to make him an eye appointment (because, of course, I had the eye doctor’s number). My dad wore glasses for longer than I’d been alive, so this wasn’t so unusual. The rest of the conversation, though, was a little more out of the ordinary.

“Why? Isn’t your prescription strong enough?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think it’s okay. But my peripheral vision just went out.” You’d think that response would be more panicked or something, but he didn’t seem to see anything wrong with this.

“What do you mean, it went out?” I was less calm about the situation.

“It went out. I can’t see anything out of the sides, just straight ahead.”

I didn’t want to scare him by screaming, “You need an emergency room, not an eye doctor!” But I knew enough about stroke symptoms to know what he was experiencing was most likely not optical.

Traditionally, most people left their health information in the hands of their doctors. After all, they went to school and practiced for many years and must know more about what may or may not be going on in our bodies. And this is true to an extent. But the truth is, it helps to know what symptoms might be associated with a serious situation. Most people have warnings of heart trouble or any myriad of things well before the condition is life threatening, and they ignore these “aches and pains” because they don’t feel severe, or they go away, or they just don’t associate them with something life-threatening.

I’m not advocating people to go ahead and doctor themselves. Certainly, a trusted physician is the best person to see with regards to your health. But, I do strongly believe in educating yourself enough to know your body, and understand the recommendations that your doctor might give you.

Special thanks to Health Yahoo for sponsoring this post.

A Rose By Any Other Name Still Grows Best In Manure

2011-01-20T11:42:00.003-06:00

I've been working on my pitch over at the Query Goblin's. While I'm still working on it (and would appreciate any critiques here as well) I'm really at a cross as to the title. I have two titles, both of which I like for different reasons, both of which give me pause for different reasons too... but rather than get into all of that, I'll just say that both are phrases used in the book. That's all you really need to know because a reader wouldn't have me there to feed them all the backstory of what the damn title means, now would they?

Let me know if you like one or if you think I should be brainstorming for a new one...

Redemption is a Road

From the Neighborhood

And onto the pitch:

When Jack Poverelli’s uncle bails him out of jail, packs his mom off to rehab, and whisks Jack out of the neighborhood, it should have been a good thing. What sixteen year old wants to wake up in the middle of the night and make sure his mom’s still breathing? But Jack doesn’t belong in the gleaming halls of his new high school where everyone judges him for what he looks like, and he doesn’t trust his uncle. Why would he show up now, after all these years? And why is he so interested in their house and finances?

Jack would give up clean sheets and full meals to be back with the friends who’ve looked out for him his whole life. Everything is pushing him into this new place – better classes, a job, a girl whose way out of his league but doesn’t seem to notice. Even Jack’s oldest friends are telling him to move on, that he should be trying to get out of the neighborhood, not stay in it. When his mother relapses, Jack and his friends step between her and a neighborhood drug dealer, setting off a chain of events that put them all in the crosshairs of both the dealer’s cronies and the police.

Many Thanks to Vista Print for Supporting the Blog

2011-01-19T21:53:00.002-06:00

There are new things afoot on the blog... for starters, I have some lovely supporters.... Yay!

You'll notice a pretty new picture to the side that looks like this:

If you click on it, it'll take you to Vista Print a great place for your custom business cards and printing needs. So if you're looking for something that they supply, please feel free to click through here or at the sidebar.

Facing Your Finances

2011-01-19T19:48:00.000-06:00

Anyone who’s ever had financial trouble can tell you how embarrassing it is. No one ever wants the neighbors to know that their phone’s been ringing off the hook with bill collectors or that they never go out when invited because they just can’t afford it. And I think most people hit those low financial patches in their life, but right now it seems like there are a lot of people struggling that weren’t quite acclimated to going without. It’s hard to streamline your bills to a manageable degree when your income has been cut in half – and that’s what many people are going through. And because financial problems are so socially embarrassing, many people will hide their heads in the sand rather than face it – which makes the problem ten times worse. You can’t keep spending as usual without the income stream to back it up.

A lot of people are turning to services, like http://anewhorizon.org to help them relearn how to manage their money and live within their current budget. They get pulled under with credit card debt because they overuse the cards trying to keep up with bills they can no longer afford. Or they simply need a sounding board to try to figure out how they got off track and relearn to live within their new means. Another thing they might do is look into debt consolidation in order to make their payments lower and more manageable per month.

Sometimes you don’t even need to use a company, just some standard research and a good common sense look at where you are, what you earn, and what you need in order to not only float but save a little to get a cushion… that’s the biggest problem I see. People will spend exactly what they make. But without that bit of savings then one extra bill can send you into a spiral. And who hasn’t run up against an unexpected bill?

In the last few years, I’ve adopted a few habits that have saved me a bit… still not completely there, but I’m working on it… how about you? What things have you started going without or doing in order to help your bottom line?

Special thanks to A New Horizon for sponsoring this post.

Pitch Critique: Jean Ann Williams Middle Grade Pitch

2011-01-10T12:48:00.003-06:00

First, the pitch:
CLAIRELEE A.D. (AFTER DISASTER)
An Excerpt
by
Jean Ann Williams

One mother damaged, one family tested, one daughter determined to find her place.

At thirteen years old, ClaireLee Monteiro’s family life becomes a shambles. Feeling incapable of taking Mama’s position in the home, she longs for acceptance at school. She sets out to impress Wendy Lavender and her school cronies, and so she lies.

While the Lavender Girls Club receives ClaireLee into their fold, they do not choose her best buddy, Belinda Cruz. How far will ClaireLee wander from honesty, her devoted friend, and a feeble mother’s love?

Next: My Critique:
CLAIRELEE A.D. (AFTER DISASTER)
An Excerpt I’m not sure why this is here. It suggests you’ve included an excerpt of the work, but there isn’t one, it’s just the pitch.
by
Jean Ann Williams

One mother damaged, one family tested, one daughter determined to find her place. Great tagline! I’m interested.

At thirteen years old, ClaireLee Monteiro’s family life becomes a shambles. ’becomes a shambles’ sounds awkward to me. Maybe try a more active verb? Feeling incapable of taking Mama’s position in the home, she longs for acceptance at school. She sets out to impress Wendy Lavender and her school cronies, and so she lies. I need a little more. What does she lie about? Why does she need to take Mama’s position?

While the Lavender Girls Club receives ClaireLee into their fold, they do not choose her best buddy, Belinda Cruz. How far will ClaireLee wander from honesty, her devoted friend, and a feeble mother’s love?This seems like the real story, the Lavender Girls Club choose ClaireLee but not her friend, Belinda. I wonder if you might want to use your space to fill out this plotline, give us a little more on the family situation especially what’s going on with her mother.

Overall, I’m interested. It sounds like a good premise for Young Adult. I want to get to know the character a little better in the pitch and I think we need a little more information.

Okay guys, your turn. Please feel free to critique this pitch in the comments section. A big thank you to Jean Ann for being brave enough to submit her work for critique. I hope it's helpful!

Scrubbing In

2011-01-09T13:33:00.002-06:00

With the current economy, I have a number of friends who’ve started rethinking their career prospects. Some of them have been outmoded by computers or employees overseas… some of them are just victims of a scaled back labor force, but either way they’re switching gears. A lot of them are going toward medical fields. Maybe it’s because all the forecasts say those jobs are stable. Maybe they envision themselves in cotton medical scrubs saving lives. I can see the romanticism there – if you’ve ever spent any time with a loved one in a hospital, a great nurse or technician can become a lifeline akin to a god.

I can totally see it – being completely in control in the face of chaos. And I wouldn’t be wearing any old cheap hospital scrubs, either. Mine would have to have Snoopy or something on them… ohhh, I wonder if they make them with Calvin and Hobbes? Don’t worry, guys. I’m not turning in my keyboard. But in a time when starting over seems to be the call of the day, I can see the draw to donning a pair of cotton surgical scrubs and getting to be the reason someone has more time with their loved one.

So, if you decided to call it and leave your current profession for a new one, which one would you pick? And could your write a really great novel surrounding it? (See, that last sentence is how you know I’m nothing if not a writer).

Many thanks to Blue Sky Scrubs for sponsoring this post.

Censorship: Things What Annoy Me

2011-01-05T20:33:00.002-06:00

I’m going to guess that most readers of this blog will already know about the hubbub surrounding the new version of Huck Finn censoring all words deemed racist in nature.

I’d like to say that Twain, if he were alive, would smack his head at their idiocy and tell them all to go fuck themselves. (Sorry, I don’t censor). But Twain was well-versed in censors and exactly how to deal with them. Twain liked to tweak people’s noses. He did so purposely and by accident. This novel in particular garnered quite a bit of venom in its day. Here’s what Twain had to say about it in a letter to his editor, shortly after the novel’s original publication:

"The Committee of the Public Library of Concord, Mass., have given us a rattling tip-top puff which will go into every paper in the country. They have expelled Huck from their library as 'trash and suitable only for the slums.' That will sell 25,000 copies for us sure."

Of course, in the time it was released the novel was censored for the opposite reason – how’s that for irony? The thing with this that irritates me is not so much that the word offends people; it was supposed to offend people. His intention was to offend people. Twain took great pains with his words. It’s well-documented that his manner of reproducing dialect and verbiage was precise to the point of near perfection. The man read every single word out loud, every single revision until each character and voice sounded exactly right to his ear. Is anyone really under the delusion that he would use the word, “nigger” more than 200 times by accident? Mind you, he used the same word in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer – 4 times.

It’s not a far stretch to understand he was making a point and he was doing so by purposely getting in the reader’s face. What I think is underestimated on a personal level is that this stance was brave for the author during this time period.

I think that should be honored rather than swept under the carpet. And by people who are using his exact ethical position – and whose ancestors, by all statistical likelihood, were not as highly evolved morally during its first printing.

I think literature should be read in the form it is written in any and all ways readers can scrutinize it. Like most cases of censoring, I have to believe that most people who have a problem with Twain’s prose have either never read or cannot understand the prose. There are a great many works of fiction (and non-fiction for that matter) that I disagree with… that doesn’t mean I won’t read them. It doesn’t mean I keep my children from reading them – in fact, disagreeing with a sentiment in literature is one of the greatest jumping off points for honest discussion I can think of.

I won’t be buying a copy that’s been censored. And I have to wonder whether there would even be a discussion about this if the author wasn’t a dead white guy… which makes me wonder who the real racist is in this scenario.

(psst: the Pitch Critiques are still open if you’re interested.)

Pitch Critique to Ring in 2011

2011-01-03T14:49:00.002-06:00

I love the smell of red ink in the morning... well, it's afternoon, but you get the idea.

In my last post, I asked if some of you might like to open the new year by participating in a pitch critique session. I haven't done one in quite a while, but they're a great way to get feedback on your pitch, narrow down your focus for a new work, and just flex your muscles creatively. Pitching, for me, is harder than writing. It's more marketing and understanding the business end of publishing, and less about the play of words. It's a balance I think you have to attain in order to get to the next level. Personally, I get just as much for critiquing for others as I do getting my own work critiqued.

So, we haz sum rulz:

Any and all writers are welcome to participate. No matter where you are in your journey, from newer writer to seasoned veteran, the more the merrier.

It is NOT mandatory to submit a pitch. I know some people aren't ready or don't like having too many eyes on their own material and that's fine. You're still more than welcome to critique or comment on other peoples' pitches.

If you do submit a pitch, it IS mandatory to critique others. This is just a little sideline I like to include because, depending on what writing loop you're on, sometimes people stick around to get feedback on their own work but are less inclined, for whatever reason, to give the same feedback to others. This way, each participant will at least have some feedback coming their way.

ALL feedback must be constructive. (I have to note here, I have never had a problem with this on this blog, all of my writing friends are awesome.) But just in case there are some newer posters of a less constructive nature, I reserve the right to delete anything I see as inflammatory or derogatory, or any of the other tories that we no likey.

If you would like to submit a pitch to critique, please send it to: merry(dot)monteleone(at)gmail(dot)com

I was going to leave this option open, if you guys would like the critiques to be blind, as in I don't tell you who wrote it, that's fine. Let me know in comments or if you don't want your name on yours you can let me know when you submit the pitch.

I don't know how many pitches I'll be receiving, so depending on the volume, I might post one with my critique at a time, and then the comments would be open to other writer's critiques... or I might post two or more on a post, if there are a lot of them... I'll also try to let everyone know via email when their pitch goes up. But keep checking back anyway just to participate in the rest of them.

I'm looking forward to it. Can't wait to play!

A New Blog for the New Year...

2011-01-01T10:06:00.002-06:00

Okay, the title's misleading. It's the same blog. Same URL. Yep, yep. But I've been contemplating what I want to do here, and I think I really want to get back to basics.

This was a writing blog when I started. Over the years I've been doing this, I've used it to flex my writing muscles, banter about my children, banter about myself... but my favorite posts were always the writing ones.

I can't promise not to tell you stories about the kids - they're usually a lot funnier than I am. I can't promise not to tell you neighborhood stories... they kinda suit me. But I would like to devote more time to booksies, and literary discussions, and writing exercises. I miss the writing exercises.

So, my writing colleagues, who's up for a good old fashion pitch crit? Anybody game to start their 2011 with a little bloodshed, er, umn, I mean solid, writing criticism...?

Let me know in the comments. If there are at least a few who might participate, I'll put a post up this week, and we can all play in the comments... if not, I guess I'll go back to silly stories.

Oh, and Happy New Year!!!! Let's see what 2011 has up its sleeve.

Wisdom is Often Hard-Earned

2010-12-15T21:52:00.002-06:00

My friend, fiction writing goddess, and woman I’d most likely dig chicks for, recently put up a “What I’ve Learned” post to commemorate the ending of this year and the turning of the page. Personally, I can’t wait to turn the page and God help me if 2011 is even half as bad as 2010 was… well, God help me anyway, I could use it.

Wait! Don’t leave! I promise I won’t whine… instead I thought I would take my cue from The Divine Ms. O and reflect on the lessons learned, and some of them re-learned, over the last year:

1. They say, “Quitting is easy.” Don’t believe them. Quitting is the hardest thing anyone ever does. It’s the release of hope wrapped in the tattered remnants of failure. No one ever quits anything important without grieving it deeply.

Quitting means you have to give up something of who you are and reinvent yourself… I’ve wondered off and on whether I should logically quit writing – it’s not exactly the most stable of professions. Without getting into the whole poetic gobbledygook of why I haven’t, one of the most profound reasons is that I don’t know who I am without it. And hell, I’d much rather be a failed writer than a successful crazy person with lots of voices in her noggin.

2. You don’t actually need most of your stuff. It’s amazing how much crap you have that you won’t use or look at in months.

3. Merry, Merry, quite contrary – I can say, “They’re only things, they don’t really matter,” as much as I want. There are some things in this world that it will break your heart into pieces to lose.

4. Some people can only see in black and white. To them, people are either good or bad and there is no shade of gray. What they don’t realize is that their inability to accept the shades of gray in others is likely the same foible their loved ones overlook in them. Avoid them when you can.

5. When you have absolutely no idea what to do about a situation, up your gumption. Ask an expert, learn a skill, hell, make it up as you go… any of those solutions will get you farther than sitting on your hands and sobbing.

6. People can be petty and mean and spiteful. But at the end of the day, the only opinion of you that counts is your own. If you let someone else change how you feel about yourself, you’re the only one you have to blame.

7. I understand that forgiveness is healthier for the person holding the grudge… but there is still a small group of people who I wouldn’t cross the street to spit on. (Sorry, E, at least I’ve stopped short of kicking them in the shins.)

8. There is no measure of heartache that can’t be endured in the presence of friendship and laughter.

9. You can’t go home again is a poetic lie. Where you come from is as much a part of your life as blood or breath. Embrace it.

10. I yelled at Him way more than I should have this year. But God knows I’m blessed, and as whiny as I’ve felt lately, I do too…

(and an 11th bonus one – I have a serious ellipsis problem…)

So, what have you learned this year that you’d like to pass on? Any life lessons? Writing skills? Bit of wit?

Don't Quit... author unknown

2010-12-12T11:58:00.002-06:00

We interrupt this blog for an interlude of poetry. I don't normally post other people's work (except for the occasional guest posting author, of course). But this poem has been running through my head a lot lately. And, being that it's a writer's blog, I figured it might've run through yours a time or two as well...

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow--
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than,
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up,
When he might have captured the victor's cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out--
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit--
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

- Author unknown

Got a favorite poem, song lyric, quote? What literature is speaking to you today?

Oh, So That’s How The Whole Christmas Miracle Thing Really Works…

2010-12-06T13:36:00.000-06:00

Littlest Guy is eight and he’s decided that there is no Santa Claus… Eight!!!! Okay, I already knew by that age, but still… I thought I had a little more time on it. I, however, was not nearly as upset about this recent turn of events as my Gracie Girl… She’s a smart one, she is… She’s thirteen now and has known the “truth” since she was about Littlest Guy’s age, but she also knows that as soon as they all know the truth, Adios Santa Gifts. And honestly, who doesn’t love waking up to presents?

As heartbreaking as these changes can be – the end of innocent childhood magic, the beginning of cynical adulthood logic… realizations of this kind just turn into comedy at my house. This was our dinnertime discussion last night:

Littlest Guy: I know there’s no Santa.

Me: Oh, do you now? And why do you say that?

Littlest Guy: Because I know. (He eyes me with his ever-famous mischievous grin). You and Dad leave the presents Christmas morning.

Gracie Girl: Of course, there’s a Santa. Why would you think there’s no Santa?

Littlest Guy: Well.. How does he get to all the houses in the whole world in just one night?

Gracie Girl: He splits it up, silly. When it’s daytime here, it’s nighttime on the other side of the world… he delivers the gifts where it’s night first, and then goes to the other side of the planet.

Littlest Guy: (grrrrr) That’s against the laws of physics.

Gracie Girl: No it’s not. You haven’t started studying physics yet. Wait a few years. You’ll understand it better.

(Meanwhile, oldest son is watching the other two with amused curiosity. Having finished his dinner, he pushes back his plate and gets up.)

Oldest Son: I’m not messing with the fat man. Can I be excused?

(Oldest Son bolts as soon as I give him the okay… mind you, he already knows, I’ve heard his whispered conversations with his sister… he’s just not dumb enough to make sure there’s no Santa Gifts on Christmas morning)

Littlest Guy: Okay. Even if he could get to every house, how does he get in? Not every house has a chimney. What about apartments, or like our house – no fireplace, the chimney goes to the furnace?

Gracie Girl: Oh, yeah. The fireplace thing is just a story. Really, Santa has a magical key that works on every lock in the whole world. He’s had it since way back in his criminal days.

Littlest Guy’s eyes widen and his mouth pops open.

Gracie Girl: Didn’t you know? Oh yeah. Santa used to be a master criminal. He pulled the most amazing heists ever! That’s why he became Santa and started giving presents to everyone once a year – it’s kind of like a penance to make up for his past misdeeds. He’s paying back karma.

Littlest Guy: Okaaaaay, well what about the reindeer? How can reindeer fly?

Gracie Girl: Steroids.

Littlest Guy: Steroids? They can’t do that.

Gracie Girl: Sure they can. But only to special reindeer. If you tried them, they’d only make you sick. Say no to drugs, man.

Littlest Guy: Well, what about the elves? Where did he get them?

Gracie Girl: Don’t you know what elves are? They’re midgets (I have to admit, I completely lost it at this point and had to walk away from the table… I listened to the rest of the conversation from the kitchen sink). Santa takes midgets, er, umn, little people, and convinces them to work in his sweatshop.

Me: Workshop.

Gracie Girl: Yeah, that.

Littlest Guy: Like slave labor? He just kidnaps them and makes them be elves?

Gracie Girl: No. It’s strictly voluntary. But he lures them with the drugs.

Littlest Guy and Me: WHAT?!!!!

Gracie Girl: Yeah, Santa makes lots of trips to the black market to stock up on steroids for the deer and crack for to keep the elves productive. Happy Reindeer, high elves, everybody wins.

Me: Okay, stop.

Littlest Guy: Yeah, Grace. Besides, even if there were midgets working there all the time, how would they know what toys to make? They wouldn’t know how to make the ones just like in the stores.

Gracie Girl: Oh, that! Yeah, you know those fake Santa Clauses like at the mall? Yeah, well they work for the real Santa. And they’re real smart. They might look like goofy, acne prone adolescents, but really they’re secret agents for the fat man… and they come and bring detailed diagrams of all the new toys to the elves.

Okay, I’m easily amused. Maybe I should just throw my hands up and tell him there’s no Santa… better than taking the chance my 8 year old will be repeating the crack-addicted elf version of the story at school.

Give That Drummer Something to Do

2010-09-14T11:51:00.000-05:00

Driving in my (Awesome) Jeep yesterday, my daughter got all disgruntled with the song on the radio.

Gracie: This song is terrible. The drummer has to be bored to death.

Me: What are you talking about?

Gracie: The drummer. (Looking at me like I have two heads and one of them’s picking its nose) The drum beat, can’t you hear that?

Me: No. I hear the music and the lyrics.

Exasperated by my obvious musical stupidity, Gracie grabs two straws and starts playing air drums in the car, tapping out the beat (she was right, it was ridiculously slow) on the dash.

Gracie: (still playing, and rolling her eyes) See, that’s what the drummer is doing. That’s ALL the drummer is doing. B-o-o-o-r-i-i-n-g… I mean the words are okay. Eh, but man, you’ve gotta give that drummer something to do. When I have my rock band, we’re never going to play anything that the drummer doesn’t have fun with.

She switched the radio, screamed “This is better” and started rocking out on air drums the rest of the way home… driving with the kids is getting to be more fun as they get older, I have to say… but that’s beside the point.

With music, I don’t hear that stuff. I actually focus on the lyrics (gee, ya think?) and I can hear the beat, but I don’t break it down to different instruments. I hear music like a listener, not like a musician. But the thing is, if it’s off to the musician, it’s going to be off to the listener, we just won’t know exactly why we don’t like it. Same thing, I think, with writing.

A reader will know they don’t like something. An astute reader might even break it down into why, but they generally won’t know the fix – just the problem. And when she said this, said it was the drummer, I broke that down into characters.

For me, good fiction is character driven. That’s a lot of hoo ha, everyone says that. But the truth is, the characters can’t be different extensions of one writer. They have to be individuals that come together with their own complexity to bring you the full arc of an overall story. If any of them are “off” it compromises the whole. There are a lot of balls to juggle, or beats to hit if we’re staying with the drum analogy.

With the novel I’m currently working on, the one affectionately known as The WIP What Killed Me, I have a character I didn’t know was going to be as important, or as ass kickingly cool as she is, when I started… I knew she was there. She was in the original outline. But man, it wasn’t until I met her that I totally got her. The thing I’m struggling with in writing her wasn’t obvious to me. It just read wrong, rang wrong, didn’t quite hit that honest note I wanted it to. It was good. It lacked great. And she was great, I was just missing the mark with it.

And then I got it. With an offhanded music tutorial from the daughter type person. I’m not giving the drummer something to do.

Annabelle is blending in to the speech patterns and mannerisms of my main character. And in life, that happens. You adopt things from the people around you and they slightly change how you come across – your people leave their mark on you, the same way you’ll leave a mark on them. But in fiction, you can’t do that. Your reader won’t get that she’s adapting to her environment, they’ll read everyone as one voice. I had to give her back her own pattern and keep it separate from my mc.

So re-work, again… just slightly. As soon as it hit, I could see it everywhere I’d done it… everywhere her dialogue came out a little too neighborhood… everywhere she was more lax than she is… I love those dawning light moments, though. Because in all honesty, I knew there was something. But until you figure out what it is, the best you can hope for is that it’s good enough. And I don’t want good enough.

How about you guys? Have you given your drummer something to do? And what have you learned in life that translated to an aha moment in your writing?

Old Friends and Bad Politics

2010-09-02T16:14:00.002-05:00

I found the joy of coffee shops and little dive restaurants when I was a teenager. That’s when my love of coffee started – free refills, man. The nice thing about it was that I could go in by myself, with my journal, a book, or my sketch pad, and write or read or draw while I waited for my friends to get there. We could sit for hours and hang out… and then go out drinking… or go there after we went out drinking… yes, there was usually drinking.

So, in case you ever wondered, that was where my addiction to coffee began. But this isn’t really about the coffee. I had a favorite coffee shop that I went to all the time on the south side of Chicago. They all knew me by name, from the owner to the wait staff to the cooks. They never kicked me out, and were more friends than anything else. One of the waitresses, Anna, was my all time favorite ever. She’d give me a heads up on guys I dated in her awesome Polish accent, “Ewwwww, no, Merry… I no like him, is cheeeep idjeeit.” Don’t worry, you had to be a real nitwit to get that reaction from her, that was just the funniest one.

There was a guy I met there when we were both in our late teens, we’ll just call him T. T. was from Mexico and came here on his own when he was fifteen. He started out as a busboy at the coffee shop, which is how I met him. He’d hang out with me sometimes on breaks and eventually he got to know all of my friends. I hung out there for years, and even worked there for a bit myself. In the time I knew him, T. taught himself both English and Polish (it was a large Polish population and he wanted to be able to communicate well – see how much cooler he is than most “real” Americans). In case you didn’t know it, busboys make relatively little money. T. still managed to support himself, put himself through community college, and send money home for his mom and younger sister. He worked his way up to waiter, which made more money than bussing, for sure, but still not what you’d call lucrative, all the while he was taking classes and doing things on his own to improve his life and fortune.

Eventually I got married and had my oldest, and I didn’t hang out at the coffee shop anymore. I came in a few times, but T. had moved on and it’s an odd thing because we were such close friends, but we just kind of lost track of each other. I wondered over the years how he’s been doing, though. He was one of those people who you just know is amazing – not in the ‘he’s going to change the world’ kind of way, but definitely in the ‘he’ll bless every corner of the world he enters’ vein of thought.

Last week I went to a concert at this very upper class, hoity toity venue. And who do I see, walking with two rather important looking gentlemen, but T – 15 years older, with a bit of gray on the sides, in a very spiffy business suit. He’s doing well, has a family, a fantastic job, and he’s happy, which is more than all the other things, really… and never have I been more proud of or happy for someone’s success.

This is one story among hundreds of thousands. On the political spectrum, people discount such stories, because they’re simply trying to push their own theories or points or whatever. I get the argument that immigrants are taxing our social systems – the problem is with the system, not the immigrants. I’ve heard all the puffed up bullshit about how “Our forefathers bled and died for this country…” blah, blah, blah… that’s awesome, but what the fuck did you do? Or are you just going to sit back and insist that you have the right to rest on the laurels of your ancestors? I call bullshit. And I think someone like T has actually earned the American Dream… I think a lot of the whining and hysterical bigotry surrounding the issue of immigration is perpetrated by people who are too lazy or stupid to go after theirs… someone else’s success does not diminish one’s ability to succeed.

I was born here through no effort on my own part – just luck, or providence or whatever you would name it. The same goes for any natural citizen. Maybe the ones arguing the loudest should be forced through the same hoops they want to force other people to jump, or maybe they should just sit down with some of the people they’re dismissing and have a real conversation… because I think in cases like that, ignorance tends to run rampant. I’m liable to annoy a few people with a post like this, and I normally stay pretty far away from religion and politics on this blog… oh well. This is one of those cases where I just don’t care. Mostly because I’m right on this one, and the one quote that keeps running through my mind is this:

“All it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing.”

In the Wake....

2010-08-24T01:25:00.002-05:00

This post is a long time in coming, partially because I had limited online access, but more because I didn’t know what the hell to say. Most of you already know I flooded. But when we say “flooded” we generally mean, “I got a little water that was a flipping inconvenience and now I’m going to whine about it while I squeegee and bleach my floors”… that’s not what happened this time… it’ll likely never happen again, I’ve got neighbors who have been here more than forty years, and they’ve never seen anything like it in this area… I’d give you a nice, sarcastic, “aren’t I so lucky?” line, except, I’m thinking I am – lucky, or blessed, or both.

My youngest woke me at seven in the morning to tell me there was water downstairs. It’s summertime, so I was half asleep stumbling down to the kitchen to see what the problem was. It rained heavy the night before, and I thought maybe we had a little water coming in from somewhere… nope, not a little… the entire lower level of my house had nearly a foot of water and it was rising fast. The current was so ridiculous it slammed all the doors shut and just kept coming, and I looked out my kitchen window to see that there was a three foot deep river of water just flowing over the fence and surrounding my house. The current was so strong it actually broke through my downstairs laundry room door.

We evacuated the kids first, sending them out the front door with backpacks over their heads to walk, in littlest guy’s case – chest deep, down the block and away from the water… in the half hour that took, my entire lower level was lost and things were blowing up and crackling downstairs as the electric was still on. By the time I finally abandoned the house (because shock and stupidity told me it was savable at that point) the water had crested the stairs into my main level and come through all of the doors from the street.

We sent the kids off with their grandparents. And then I sat, at the edge of the river that was my street, for the majority of the day, watching as everything I had floated away. I sat with neighbors whose houses were also in the melee, and joked about how well getting the basement sealed worked once the water came in the windows… I sat with neighbors who lived two or three houses farther up the street, but were blessedly spared from the path of the water.

I went back a few times, to try to salvage things that were higher up and could be saved, wading through muck and nasty. I joked, I zoned out, and I moved on rote… but mostly I just wanted to fucking quit. Never in my life have I felt more like looking up to heaven and cursing a blue streak and to be perfectly honest, this wasn’t even the worst thing I’ve been through, just the last straw kind of thing… and a pretty big straw it was.

We spent the night at my in-laws, and I woke the next day with a screaming migraine. I spent the morning and a large part of the afternoon either in bed or vomiting, and I fucking wallowed. I did, weak and spineless as it is. And then I got up and caught a ride back to the house (as the flood also engulfed my little mini-van) and got on with it – admittedly, badly at first. By the time I got there, the water was pumped out and only the destruction remained.

I don’t even know what there is to say about the destruction. Most of you can imagine what it would feel like to lose two thirds of your house and its contents, some of you have. Furniture, clothes and appliances, all of my writing prior to the bit on my last computer… every journal from eighth grade to today… my leather bounds, holy hell, four wheel barrows full went out to the dumpster, and another three or four hundred books besides. Ack. Art supplies, books and papers, which is pretty much the sum total of my life. The friend who did most of the clean up for me is an artist, and I think he might have been sicker about the art supplies than I was. Then there were things, just things… the kids first walking shoes and christening gowns. All of the holiday stuff, and photos… pictures from when we were young, people I took the journey with, that I’ll never see again or who aren’t today who they were back then… the colors running to rainbow patterns that overshadowed brilliant smiles and mischievous eyes.

Three boxes of my dad’s things. He’s been gone nine years, but I had them, packed away. Shirts and slippers, his old humidor that held papers and cards rather than cigars. His wallet and things, packed away, just the same way he kept them, like a little time capsule. I used to go into the crawlspace once in a while and open them up and smell them, because they still smelled like him. Which is weird as hell, I know. See, that was harder than this. If there was ever a time I felt like I wanted to lie down and never get up, it was when he did.

Okay, so you’re probably waiting for the blessed part at this point, because most of this is just fucking depressing.

What I found at my house besides destruction were friends. Friends I see all the time, friends I haven’t seen in, literally, twenty years. Friends I grew up with, ones I went to high school with, and neighbors who were battling the same destruction at their own homes. I could say that the best friends are the ones you grow up with – I thought that more than a few times over the first few weeks because there are a few (you know who you are) who I couldn’t possibly thank enough or adore more.

But then there were my writing friends, like Erica and Travis and JJ and Ello, who did what we tend to do when one of our circle needs – they got the word out, and suddenly my inbox was flooded with messages and gift cards, and lovely booksies started to arrive in the mail. I haven’t gotten to the thank you cards yet, guys, but they’re coming…

At this point, my upstairs bedrooms are put back together… we painted and removed all of the floor vents to get the smell out… the lower level is gutted as is the main floor… oh, but I have internet and a kitchen floor now, so yay, progress! We’ll all be back in the house this week, just in time for school… as it is, one of us has stayed here working on things every night anyway, just not the kids yet. They’re dying to come home, too. The next few weeks will be like roughing it… no kitchen so we’ll have to use the grill and do cold food… picnic table instead of dinner table… but it’s home.

Over the past month, my best friend lost her father and another friend lost a brother. And I thought to myself, “Snap out of it, for fuck’s sake. Their road right now is way steeper than yours.” This was just stuff. Important stuff, stuff I never wanted to lose, and stuff I didn’t even remember was there. It was scraps and pieces of who I used to be, but none of that ever really goes away. I’ll never hold a card or letter in my dad’s perfect handwriting again… but it’s still in my head, every loop and curve of his signature and every word he ever uttered in my earshot. I’ll never see sketches and portraits I pained over in the past… but hell, they were just sitting in sketchpads in a dark crawlspace anyway… and the books, well, isn’t the most brilliant thing about story the fact that it stays with you? I’ve read most of them; I’ll replace the important ones over time…

A neighbor across the street lost more than I did. The water was far higher in his main floor and all of the possessions, well, most of them were picked out by his wife – she’s been gone ten years this month. He set up his dining room table and lamps in his garage. We sat out there the other day, having wine and talking (my neighbors are just cool as hell, I tell ya). I was worried about him, maybe more than anyone else. After ten years, he still mourns his wife constantly, and I know losing those things that were hers, cut him deeply.

So we sat there, at his beautiful dining room table, surrounded by remnants of his house shoved inside a dirty garage, and he said, “Maybe it was time I moved on. This thing could be a fresh start, you know, sometimes life works that way. When you won’t let go and live, it pries your hands lose so you have to. Maybe there are beautiful things waiting, when you make room for them.”

How much do you love him? Resilience is a far prettier trait than poets give it credit for. And me, I’m not used to people worrying over me. I’d much rather help someone else than take help – I don’t know why, and as someone pointed out to me recently, that’s kind of a selfish thing, too, not letting other people feel good by taking care of you. So I’m trying not to lose patience when I get the sad worried puppy dog eyes of well meaning and fantastic friends who are worried about how I’m handling things. And I’m looking at it as a massive, if expensive, spring cleaning. A fresh start to new things and if I’m really lucky the next leg of the journey will be blessed with as many amazing people as the last one was.

Public Humiliation

2010-07-03T17:31:00.003-05:00

Okay, so the Koala kicked my ass. There. I said it. I failed miserably for the month of June. Please taunt torture and fuck with me appropriately.

I've been largely off of blogging the last few months, but fucking around on facebook wayyy more than I should. If you catch me in either place for prolonged periods of time, ask me what my wordcount is... If I have none, feel free to kick the hell out of me... I always have some hell in reserve anyway.

File It Under, “My Characters Amuse Me”

2010-06-14T16:20:00.002-05:00

“Reverse psychology,” Jack said.

“Re-hoosit-whatsit? I just thought it was scamming.” Mikey slapped Jack’s shoulder and leaned against the railing.

“Yeah, well, they’re pretty much the same thing. People just use the big words to make it sound less shady.”

Writers love to talk about craft. The hard stuff. The stuff that makes us feel all accomplished and whatnot. But the reason we keep trucking through all the dejection, rejection, and unavoidable lows of a very tough profession is because the high points are just fucking fun.

My characters sometimes pull out my heart and stomp it into a million little pieces leaving nothing but hollow space and an inability to breathe. But more often than not they make me laugh out loud. The biggest hope is that whatever I’m feeling translates on the page and someone else will get to feel it, too. Those few lines at the top of the post cracked me up... weird, right? There are people in my head, telling jokes that give me a physical reaction. In normal people circles, that’s called crazy. But we get to balance on the tight rope of split personality and delusional tendency and other people marvel at our creativity. I don’t think you can really ask for better than that. Okay, you can ask for millions of dollars and a harem of smoking hot pool boys, but God tends to frown on delivering those kinds of things...

And we can get into craft... Do those words move the story? Is there a point to that little exchange or am I just amusing myself with my own wit, or lack thereof? Some of my silliness will, rightfully so, get cut in revision... in fact, a lot of my silliness will get cut in revision... along with, hopefully, all of my purple prose. But right now I’m just taking the journey. I can think about the destination. Dream about it so much I can taste it. Envision it in my head until it feels like a well-worn reality... and still, the road beckons more than the destination today... and I hope every day to come.

How’s your writing going? Care to share a scene from your wip that spoke to you, tickled you, or you hope moves someone else? Care to share one that’s hitting the cutting room floor? And what’s your priority today – the road or the destination?

And guys, if you haven’t yet heard and congratulated her, head over to Ello’s and share her much deserved high point with her.

An Open Love Letter to Stephen

2010-06-07T14:28:00.000-05:00

This week we’re celebrating Stephen Parrish, at The Year of Parrish. It’s a weeklong extravaganza with games and blog parties and probably a bit of cyber debauchery (if I know this crowd, more than a bit). I could say that it’s an attempt to bask in the light that is Stephen, or share with him his more than deserved success... but mostly, it’s to ~~fuck with him~~ make him feel shiny and happy.

I could tell you that he’s a brilliant writer. You would already know that if you read his blog or, better yet, devoured his debut novel. That’s not the real reason so many bloggers and writers, people who’ve never met the man face-to-face, came out in the blog-o-sphere with every intention of making him feel spiffy. Hell, there are some damn fine writers out there and I’ll certainly buy their books... but there are only a few people who would get this big of a following of true friends who’ve never met them.

I could think of more than of few examples that make Stephen a cut above the rest in the friendship department. Like the time one of our blog friends had a fire that completely destroyed his home, and it took Stephen all of a day to get up a blog to help him rebuild. That’s an extreme example. I think I’m safe in saying it’s not the only one... he’s a better friend to most of us than some of our real world friends could be.

For the writers in our little circle, his insight and wit has been priceless. He lets us piddle away our time on his blog rather than the real work of writing, and then kicks our asses for slacking off. Let me tell you, it takes a special brand of brilliance to kick your ass and make you like it.

For me, personally, Stephen’s been the best cheerleader (are ya picturing him in the short skirt with pom poms? Ya know you are). Somehow we missed each other back in the Miss Snark days, but I finally met him when I hosted a book club blog for a fellow snarkling’s debut. He was so dead on, insightful, and funny, I just had to follow him back to his own blog. And a cyber-friendship was born. From blog exchanges to emails, to pestering the hell out of him on his facebook wall, Stephen’s one of my true favorites. He’ll give you the real deal, with a bit of humor. And in the solitary world of writing, he’s been one of the bastions of community and understanding that keeps a lot of us trudging through it.

He’s always good for a word of praise or silliness, and sometimes he’ll just pop me an email to check if I’m writing, if I’m holding my own with the whole life sucks and when is it my turn dammit thing, to pass on a word of praise or heads up for someone else in our little cyber world. I’ve got to say, it’s more than once that Stephen’s emailed out of the blue with a back-pat at just the right time. Because really, if someone as brilliant as Stephen thinks I can write, maybe he’s onto something.

So, Stephen, my friend, enjoy your week of festivities. Bask in your much-deserved success. It’s been an honor to take this leg of the journey with you, and I can’t wait to see how far you’ll go. Yer gonna be famous.

Great Advice from Stephen Parrish - Get Mad

2010-05-11T08:04:00.001-05:00

Yippie and double yippie! I might even squee, except that Stephen detests the squee and so I must keep that under wraps. *mutters to self and squees a bit anyway*

Today, I’m thrilled to offer up a guest post by one of my favorite new authors, Stephen Parrish. You can find out more about his debut novel, The Tavernier Stones, by stopping at the site – and you know, the man is giving away a one carat diamond, so you might want to check that out.

But this post isn’t so much about the book (which is flippin’ fantastic and if you don’t check it out you’re missing it. Missing it, and all of your friends will have loved it and there you’ll sit with nothing to say or amuse yourself with except perhaps pocket lint. And treasure hunting cartography wrapped in the most fabulous prose is a far sight better than pocket lint... plus, did I mention the diamond?) This post is to introduce you to Stephen, and it's a little treat for those of us who follow him regularly. Okay, here’s Steve:

A Time For Getting Mad

I got into the habit of shooting pool with an employee I'll call Jeannie. Jeannie and I traveled widely together on business, and since she was passionate about billiards, wherever we went we had to find the nearest table and play. I'm no slouch with a stick, but Jeannie was quite a bit better. Enough so that if we shot an evening of eight ball she should, by rights, have won four out of five times.

For a long time, she never won at all. We played against each other in the U.S. and in various European countries. Everywhere we went, everywhere there was a table, we played. Often other employees would gather round to watch. It didn't help Jeannie's cause that she was competing against her boss, but her biggest problem was a lack of confidence.

The first time we racked the balls I told her: "You're better than me. I've seen you play. But you're going to lose tonight. The reason you're going to lose is because you know you're going to lose."

And lose she did. Over and over. She'd run the table and miss the eight ball. I'd take my time knocking my balls down, while she missed the eight ball again and again. Or scratched. She'd get frustrated, because she knew she'd played better than me, often much better.

I taunted her: "You know you're going to lose. That's why you lose. I'm absolutely sure I'm going to win. That's why I win." And true to prophecy, no matter how close she came to winning a game, she'd find a way to choke.

Now, before you judge me too harshly, Jeannie needed a lesson in confidence, and she needed to learn it the hard way; we'd discussed her problem, which reached well beyond the pool table. I believed in my heart I was helping her. Turned out, in the end, I was right.

"You're programmed to lose," I told her. "It's all in your head."

She got mad. First at me, naturally, but it didn't do any good; I just laughed. Then at herself. One night in Florida, in a pool hall atop a swanky high rise, with a dozen colleagues gathered to watch, she figured out what to do with her anger.

"How many games would you like to lose tonight?" I asked her.

Instead of her usual tight-lipped silence as she racked the balls (losers always rack), this time she said loud and clear, to me, her boss, in front of everyone:

"Fuck you."

I don't know how many times she beat me that night. Maybe ten. I didn't win a single game. She shot with crisp authority, gliding around the table, calling her shots in a calm, determined voice, "Seven, corner," hitting the eight ball extra hard into the pocket to put an exclamation mark on the game. Spectators chanted, "Jean-nie! Jean-nie!" Hollywood couldn't have scripted it better.

We played occasionally after that. I rarely won.

With apologies for the long lead-in, there came a time during my submission process when I got mad. First at the whole publishing industry, naturally, but it did no good. Then at myself, for allowing even the smallest moments of self doubt.

I decided to put the anger to good use. I let it shape my thinking. I've paid my dues, I decided. I would continue to seek criticism and to rewrite, and rewrite, and rewrite, but from now on, anyone who turns me down is passing up an opportunity.

I changed my query letter. It had previously come across like a hat-in-hand request for consideration, rather than an introduction to who I was and what I was offering. I changed the opening line: "Hello," I wrote, "my name is Stephen Parrish." Thankfully I never had to tell anyone what Jeannie ended up having to tell me.

Write with confidence and authority. Neither Shakespeare nor a million monkeys can tell your story the way you tell it. Expect offers, not rejections. When the time comes, and you'll know it's time, just get mad.

A Literary (and literal) Treasure

2010-04-17T10:51:00.001-05:00

The awesomeness that is Stephen Parrish is hosting a contest in honor of the release of his debut novel, The Tavernier Stones. But this is not just any contest – it’s a Treasure Hunt! The first one to figure out all the clues and make it to the finish line wins a real one carat diamond. Not too shabby at all!

The Tavernier Stones is available for order now – I’m betting that the novel is a treasure in itself. I haven’t read it yet (off to order my copy and hope the postman isn't bogged down with tax returns), but I’ve been a fan of Stephen’s for a long time now, and if the book’s half as brilliant as he is, it’s sure to be fabulous. You’ll need a copy in order to work out the clues and, you know, because you just have to read it.

Here’s what Stephen’s website has to say about the novel:

“When the well-preserved body of 17th century mapmaker, Johannes Cellarius, floats to the surface of a bog in northern Germany, and a 57 carat ruby rolls out of his fist, treasure hunters from around the globe race to find the Lost Tavernier Stones of popular European folklore.

According to legend, Jean-Baptiste Tavernier was robbed of a priceless hoard while returning from his final voyage to the Orient in 1689. The hoard reputedly includes some of the world’s most notorious missing jewels. Among them the 280 carat Great Mogul Diamond and the 242 carat Great Table Diamond, the largest diamonds ever unearthed whose whereabouts are unknown.

John Graf is an Amish-born cartographer who has never ventured out of Pennsylvania, let alone embarked on an international treasure hunt. David Freeman is a gemologist who has done his share of prospecting, but little of it within the boundaries of the law. Between them, they have all the expertise necessary to solve the mystery. They also have enough differences to derail even the best of partnerships. And ahead are more obstacles: fortune seekers equally qualified and every bit as determined.

The race spans two continents. The finish line is in Idar-Oberstein, the gemstone capital of Germany. There, in chambers beneath an old church, where unspeakable events took place in centuries past, winners and losers alike find answers to age-old questions about the Lost Tavernier Stones.”

Run now, and order your copy, or head on over to The Tavernier Stones Site and check out the about page, to see what other fine stores will be carrying this very cool novel.

So, what do you say, guys? Anyone up for a treasure hunt?

Queer

2010-03-29T10:32:00.001-05:00

Nine Year Old Son: (Looking quizzically at one of his books) Well, that’s queer!

Me: What?!!!

Son: (blink, blink) what?

Me: What does ‘queer’ mean?

Son: Weird or strange (pause) kind of like you asking me what ‘queer’ means.

Apparently my nine year old uses, you know, the actual definition for the word, rather than the skewed reference I’ve heard bandied about by dunderheaded nitwits. Funny, because I don’t normally consider myself one of the politically correct people – you know, sooo concerned with people getting offended by non-issues. But I think I’m overly sensitive to what terms my kids learn and use, and what they’re picking up from the world... because the world can suck on occasion.

And I can get into whole discussions on what wrongheaded idiocy the world might teach your kid if you’re not paying good enough attention and opening the conversation... but really that’s not what this post is about. It’s about words.

If you ever need proof that words and their meanings change over short spans of time, just hang out with a kid. Apparently, my kids and their friends do use the word ‘queer’, but for the actual definition, not the ignorant one. I know this because they say it in front of adults... when they know they’re saying something wrong, they take great pains not to get caught.

For someone writing middle grade or YA, this information is imperative. I can’t have my characters use the same vernacular I used at that age, it’s outdated... okay, most of it’s outdated – there are a number of phrases kids think are so cool and original that were really old hat when I was a kid... but sometimes, they don’t mean the same thing.

My kid might say, “tricked” and what she means is updated or fresh. Like, “Her room is all tricked out.” - which basically means one of her friends redecorated her room. Not really a new phrase, either, we used to use it the same way to refer to cars...

But when I was a kid, ‘tricked’ or ‘trick’ usually meant to snitch. “Don’t be a trick” meant don’t run and tell your mom, or don’t whine. Depending on the situation, because really it started as a gang reference for someone who “tricked you out” to the cops. Kids pick it up and use it for their own purpose, though... and in fiction I think this phrase might only work in certain neighborhoods. Kids in upper middle class neighborhoods probably aren’t all that familiar with “tricks”.

Now, in fiction, I love a good voice. And a unique voice often means that they use phrases and words in a way you haven’t heard before, so I don’t think all phrases are out the window if they don’t exactly match real life – real life isn’t fiction, fiction is like real life on great drugs – it’s more fun with higher stakes. But I think, being wordsmiths, we have to be up on exactly what these words and phrases mean today or in the time frame we’re working with.

How about you? Have you used any words or phrases in your fiction and then looked back at it and though, “okay, this kid would never say this; my grandmother would’ve said it, maybe...”? Have you read a published book that used outdated phrasing? And what are your favorite current or past sayings?

Getting From Point A to B

2010-03-22T09:48:00.000-05:00

There are a million things I do in my day-to-day life that are boring. They’re just not noteworthy. I have to drive to school to drop off the kids, clean the dishes, odds and ends, just like everyone else.

Getting in my car and driving to the doctor’s office is on auto-pilot. It’s not something you pay more attention to than you have to, and most of us won’t even remember the drive if it’s a place you drive often enough. Now, if on the way to my doctor’s office, someone in a mask holding a bag of loot from a bank heist jumps into my car and orders me to drive, and throws me into the middle of a police chase – well, that’s noteworthy. That would definitely make it into the story, in fact, it probably is the story.

Working on my wip, I notice the points I get a little stuck, that I have to write through, are the transitions. You have to get your characters from point A to point B. Often, you can skip the middle. Your reader doesn’t need to see them driving to the next destination. Sometimes skipping over the interim is awkward, it leaves your reader a little in the dark because they don’t know how they got from this scene to that scene. Most of the time, this can be cleared up in a simple sentence or paragraph, though.

The thing I keep reminding myself is that every sentence I write needs to serve a purpose to THE STORY. I bold that because it’s something I need to remember. My writing doesn’t need to serve me as the author, but the story as a whole. When I get stuck at those transitional scenes, for me the biggest question is, “What purpose does this serve to the story?” It might flesh out the character or propel the plot – the best scenes will do both. But if all I’m doing is trying to get from this bit of action to that bit of action, it’s probably going to get cut. It doesn’t need to be there.

Novels don’t work like real life and it’s something that I need to constantly remind my own self of. If I look back at the work and know that I’d skim all that bullshit if I was reading someone else’s novel, I know I need to cut it in mine.

So how about you? How do you get your characters from point A to point B? Do you write it all out and cut some later? Do you not worry about transitions and just write from scene to scene? And do you ever get stuck trying to figure out how to get these people from here to there without either boring or confusing your audience?

Talk is Cheap

2010-03-05T10:54:00.000-06:00

Most of the time, telling someone what you’re going to do doesn’t go over so well.

“I’m going to write the great American novel.”

If they’re polite, they’ll murmur words of encouragement. If you watch really close, they’re trying not to laugh in your face. This is mostly your fault. You’ve dumped this lofty goal on their head with nothing to back it up.

Of course, creative people know that non-creative people don’t always understand our goals. They use words like pipe-dream and delusions of grandeur. Most people stop being so cynical your creative ambitions once you’ve reached this level or that level, though not always. Creative people aren’t the only people these rules apply to, though, they apply to everyone.

The guy who talks endlessly about gardening, telling you where each vegetable and flower should be planted, but he doesn’t have a garden. The guy who can tell you brick by brick how he’s going to build a fabulous new addition, but five years later there’s not a lick of work done... he’s still talking about it, though.

With big dreams and goals, it does help to plan out how you’re going to get there. It does help to have people to bounce your progress off of and who support you. But it’s a fine line – are you talking about it, or are you working toward it? If the act of discussing it diminishes the drive to do it in any way, go out and buy some duct tape and apply it to your mouth. You’ll thank me later.

Talk is cheap in life – telling someone what you’re going to do has little impact. Showing them what you’ve done speaks volumes. The same rule applies to fiction. This, of course, directly correlates to the oft-repeated Show, Don’t Tell thing. But I’m finding that, show, don’t tell, is more nuanced than I realized at first.

I’ll use first person as an example. First person can be comfortable and awesome to read. You sink into it and it almost feels like this great friend is leading you through the story, when the author is very capable. And because it’s comfortable and easy to read, it looks a lot easier to write than it is. There are limitations with first person that can be hard to get around and I notice that some authors take short cuts to get over this. They tell.

You’re in the main character’s head already, so instead of writing out scenes of importance, the character tells you what happened. Or worse, they tell you what they feel, and if the character has a good enough voice, it can keep the reader in it for a while, but it diminishes the impact of the story. It’s just not believable. Most people don’t talk to themselves in such detail that another person (if they could listen in to your head) would know what the hell you’re talking about). So using internal thoughts to drop backstory, or give foreshadowing, or tell us what the character’s real motives, etc. etc... it doesn’t ring true. First of all, we don’t explain what we already know to ourselves. Second, and probably more important, most people aren’t that honest with themselves – we don’t always understand our own real motives. When we do understand our own motives, we don’t always admit to them.

But from the story standpoint, the most important thing is the effect this has on the reader. Showing them the reactions, scenes, little hints of what your character is about is how your reader engages in your story. If you tell them everything, they don’t get the fun of figuring it out, of playing along, of getting to know your character. Whether intentional or not, it reads as a lack of confidence in your readers’ ability to understand the story. And there’s nothing quite worse than getting the feeling the author thinks you’re stupid.

I haven’t yet mastered first person writing – not sure if it’s just not my speed as a writer or if I just haven’t worked on a story it’s a good fit for yet. I tend to be more comfortable with close third person, but the same foibles apply here. If you go on long winding internal dialogue in close third, it’ll take the same things away from the story.

How about you? Do you notice some of these ‘tells’ in your favorite books or in your own work? And do you find talking about your work in progress is a good way to work out the kinks or does it just diminish your urge to write it?

God Complexes and Other Handy Writing Tools

2010-03-02T10:22:00.000-06:00

My muse is an airhead. Just thought I’d get it out there. Okay, airhead’s a little strong – she’s just not detail-oriented. I often say things like, “The characters tell me the story, I’m just along for the ride.” And it’s true in its way. There is a certain element of my story that kind of lands in my head. I don’t feel right taking credit for it, because it doesn’t seem like there was any work in thinking those things up. Blam – there it is.

But then there’s the other thing. See, my muse hands me emotions. My muse drops things, like these great, witty lines and vivid pictures into my head. She shows me who my characters are when I’m doing something mindless, like singing in my car or zoning out in front of the glowing computer screen. But my muse only works in the abstract. She only cares what it makes me feel – and she doesn’t give a shit about the story.

Do these scenes make sense in a chronological order? Where are the plot points? What’s the point of that quirky character my muse keeps bugging me about, when they don’t have any part in the overall story but they can drop a killer line that makes me laugh out loud?

My muse doesn’t care about any of that. That’s my job. There’s the easy, effortless part of writing that’s all about going on the adventure. It’s all about feeling and being in the scene and loving these people who really only exist in my skewed little noggin. But then there’s the hard bit – plotting and pacing and paying attention to the facts of the world I’m writing. Not allowing myself to get so lost in the fun stuff that I let the real pieces of story slide. Because my muse might not give a damn, but I know that the story is all. Without it, all of the emotion and wit and work on craft mean nothing.

So when I say that my characters told me the story, it’s only part way true. I think they lead a lot, but there’s a very real, very hard bit of work involved on my end – the end that thinks it out logically. The end that cuts characters who I’d really like to hang out with – like Logan from Missouri who had this awesome bit of fiery dialogue with one of our antagonists. I loved Logan, but he was only necessary in one scene. No where near the overall arc. Out he went, into the world on his own... maybe my muse will bring him back one day. I think she’s still a little mad at me for axing him, but I had to.

We like to put all of this into romantic terms – we’re writers, regardless of our genre, poetic romanticism is our true currency. But the story is really ours. Our responsibility. Our job. Our decision. While I think it’s important to be true to the story, it’s our story we have to be true to – so when we make these mighty decisions on our characters’ futures and struggles, we chose it. Down deep in there, it wasn’t a predestined muse, or at least if she was involved, we made the decision to go with her there.

So what do you think? How much of your writing is you being true to the story and how much of it is hard-earned, well thought out decision making?

Koala Challenge 2010 - February Progress

2010-02-27T20:37:00.002-06:00

Still not there, dammit! But not too bad, either. Here are my stats, for those counting and such:

Editing (4,000+ words on multiple projects) - 1 point

Fiction Submissions (unfortunately, no full-length which would have sent me straight up the koala ladder, but still not bad at 2 submissions) - 2 points

Essay Submissions - 1 point

Article Submissions - 1 point

New Fiction Written (not counting all the non-fiction words, dammit again) - 2 points

Altogether it's 7 points from the lofty Koala. Not bad, not as good as I wanted... Need to set a better writing schedule for March and my goal is to submit at least 4 articles and 1 or 2 essays along with upping my fiction word count. We'll see how it goes. Snipe at me when you see me lolly gagging around the blog-o-sphere, please :-)

How is your writing going?

Freedom of Speech and the Age of Irresponsibility

2010-02-23T10:05:00.000-06:00

Freedom of Speech is the rallying cry of pretty much any group with anything to say – good, bad, or indifferent. On the one hand, I’m not a big fan of censorship. On the other hand, though, I am a big fan of consequence. And I do notice that the ones screaming about their right to say what they want the loudest are usually the same ones using their words as a club to bludgeon someone else.

In the internet age we all have the ability to create a platform. To be heard, and to have our opinions and views counted by more people than we could have reached without the support of the media in years past. This can be a great thing for people who otherwise had no voice.

There are two local cases here that have me thinking a great deal about what our rights are, what the boundaries of our speech should be, and what the general perception of the term ‘Freedom of Speech’ is, as opposed to what it is in reality.

In one case, a politician for a town’s local government was getting skewered pretty good on one of the small paper’s message boards. This is par for the course, but there was one user who never failed to comment and was pretty derogatory... all of which is fine, she’s a public official and it kind of goes with the job description for a political career. However, the user decided to go after her 15 year old son in a fairly vulgar way.

The politician sued to have this user’s true identity released (presumably to go after charges or at least file an order of protection). I can’t say I blame her. It’s not a large town and the user was taking things a little too personally not to live there... which means he was some anon. web person who was scaring a 15 year old boy and probably lived within a few miles of the boy’s home. The politician won the motion to have his name released, but the anon. internet person is appealing.

There was a huge hubbub over this that she didn’t have the right to get his real name. That it infringes on the internet user’s right to privacy. But to me, hiding behind a screen name doesn’t give you the right to say anything you like. Certainly not to a child, and it was clear that the anon commenter knew he was speaking to a 15 year old. To me, that’s like saying if you wear a ski mask while you rob a bank, no one has a right to find out who you are. Just because you wanted to do something anonymously, doesn’t mean you have the right to do it.

Another case just made the news yesterday. A teenage boy got suspended from high school because he made a fanpage on facebook calling one of his female teachers a ‘lewd’ name. The whole fanpage was set up to call this teacher a name so bad that the news wouldn’t even print it. Okay, color him stupid... along with the thirty-something other kids who signed up as fans.

So why was this news? Because the mother is suing the school district stating that they didn’t have the right to suspend this kid because of something he did outside of school. Excuse me while I bounce my head off the desk.

So, instead of taking this situation and letting the kid, I don’t know, learn something maybe. His mother is basically showing him that he can do anything he wants and there shouldn’t be any consequences. So, if he does something equally stupid and disrespectful to say a future boss, then the boss would be WRONG to fire him.

I’m not a proponent of suing, but I almost wish the teacher would sue the kid and his family. I mean, how the hell is she supposed to teach these kids, if they’re all laughing at her and treating her without respect? And then you’ve got this idiot mother telling them that it’s ‘their right’... Oy. Worse than that though, if she keeps coddling this kid and telling him he’s not doing anything wrong – what happens to the kid when he’s 35 and he gets fired for pissing off the boss? What happens when his parents are gone and no one else is around to take his consequences?

There seems to be some consensus of people who think that freedom of speech means that you’re allowed to say whatever you like and no one is allowed to punish you for it. Nice theory, I suppose... except nothing in this world comes without consequence. The right to state your beliefs is an absolute, but the backbone and courage to do so has to be powered by the speaker. The state can’t give that to you and neither can the government, and there are consequences. It might be as insignificant as turning some people off who might have otherwise been friendly to you – it might be as large as losing your job or creating very real enemies. If you want to shout something from the rooftops, go right ahead. But the responsibility for dealing with the fallout that might be thrust on your life is all yours, my friend. So pick your battles wisely. And if you’re going to whine about the unfairness of the consequences, maybe you didn’t earn the right to speak in the first place.

How about you guys? What do you think the parameters are on freedom of speech? What is your take on the anonymous commenting and is it a right to stay anon no matter what you say?

Literary Announcements for Writers and Such...

2010-02-18T12:24:00.000-06:00

A few announcements for those of you who are writers and book lovers - so, basically anyone who reads this blog:

Chuck Sambuchino is currently hosting the Dear Lucky Agent Contest on his awesome Guide to Literary Agents Editor’s Blog. I’m not just calling it awesome because he might be reading this... no, really, it has nothing to with sucking up, though *cough, cough*, couldn’t hurt.

I’m guessing most of my writer friends already have him bookmarked, anyway. But there’s always great information over there so, if you haven’t checked it out, you really should.

This contest is specifically for middle grade and YA authors who have a finished manuscript. There will be more contests, for other genres, so if your work doesn’t fit into this one, keep him bookmarked for future reference. The contest is open until Sunday, February 21st, so get your hustle on and go enter. The Koala will be pleased.

My Second Announcement:

Linda Weaver Clarke dropped me a line to let me know she’s having another book giveaway in honor of St. Paddy’s Day. And really, is there anything better than free booksies? (Okay, fine, books made of chocolate that you can devour both figuratively and literally, but still). Here’s the announcement:

In celebration of St. Patrick's Day, a review of the final book in the Family Saga series, "Elena, Woman of Courage: A Family Saga in Bear Lake, Idaho" is being reviewed at Suko’s Notebook. Drop by and enter the contest, which ends March 7th, just in time for St. Patrick's Day (March 17th). Remember the luck of the Irish! Perhaps your luck will double if you find a four leaf clover. Good luck, everyone!

Sometimes Facebook is Better Than Fiction...

2010-02-18T00:03:00.001-06:00

see more funny facebook stuff!

Back To Basics

2010-02-17T11:11:00.002-06:00

There are many things about parenthood that are difficult. Some will put you out of your element. Some will just test your faith. You want to hear an odd little secret? One of the hardest things for me was teaching my kids reading and writing. I know, right? Are you confused and perplexed and wondering what my flippin’ problem is? I was pretty astounded myself. I figured English would be a gimme – they had such an edge on that one with a writer for a mother.

The problem was fairly simple – I had to go back through steps that I didn’t remember anymore. I didn’t remember learning the basics and the fact that I write all the time didn’t help, if anything I think it actually hindered the process. It was frustrating trying to explain something that I took so much for granted.

I love language. I love etymology and the way way words fit together. But I didn’t fully realize how much of this I know by rote – the weird spelling rules, placing commas, sentence construction. Oy. I hit a few points where I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and say, “Just memorize that bit, there’s no reasoning here, English is just a hodgepodge of contradictions!” Which is probably true in some cases, but it’s also one of the reasons I like it.

Explaining it to a kid who has no reference wasn’t easy... my oldest got the worst of my teaching skills here. Fortunately, she’s also naturally good with English and language, so she managed just fine with my convoluted attempts to explain the ‘why’s’. By the time my youngest started school, I had a pretty good system down. It’s become much easier for me to help him write in complete sentences and learn spelling and all of that, but I had to go back to the basics first.

I took an article writing course this past fall to brush up my skills and help me get my footing. I’m working on expanding my freelance writing into different markets and, while I like the business-to-business and ghost writing I’ve done over the last few years, I really want to start cracking into other paying venues, preferably with my byline. Great course, by the way, if anyone’s interested in expanding their writer’s toolbox, I highly recommend classes with Christina Katz.

When I started, the main objective for me was to get tips on querying for regional markets, and to brush up on the business end of that market. I didn’t realize I was so rusty on the actual article writing process, and I was more than a little annoyed with myself. I’d spent so much of my writing time devoted to long fiction that I’d forgotten how to structure an article well and even found I was making mistakes that, once they were caught, made me literally slap my forehead. So I had to go back to the basics again.

I’ve got my Strunk and White and Chicago Manual of Style on my desk now – they were gathering dust on a shelf. I’m trying to just peruse here and there and brush up, because it never hurts to get a refresher. So how about you guys? Anything you found yourself having to brush up on? Do you specialize in a certain area of writing and, if you do, do you find it difficult to switch gears (say from fiction to non-fiction, or long fiction to short)? And once you get to a fairly advanced level in your craft, do you find it hard to explain the basics to people?

They Cracked The Code

2010-02-02T15:33:00.000-06:00

My daughter’s Language Arts Class has been discussing commercials: what the main point of any commercial is (for to sell you stuff you may or may not need) and how they use the power of persuasion to achieve their purpose. Personally, I’m pretty impressed with the lesson plan. I know some adults who haven’t quite gotten this concept, let alone the 12 year olds in my daughter’s class.

The culmination of this lesson is that each student has to develop their own product, write a short essay about the purpose of the product and who might use it, develop a storyboard for a commercial selling their product, and then execute their commercial. I sooooo wish I had such a cool teacher when I was in sixth grade. Our projects involved poster board and glitter glue and culminated in us fidgeting in front of our classmates.

My daughter brainstormed a number of ideas to start with – my favorite one was Rent A Brother. Her commercial idea centered on having her youngest brother bat puppy dog eyes at the camera, therefore enticing your parents into more allowance, less punishment, and possibly a puppy. (A born salesman to even attempt to con people into this, as the same brother hasn’t reaped her near as good of results and has probably gotten her into more trouble than she’s apt to get into on her own). Her teacher, however, ix-nayed this idea, as I guess renting people should be frowned on even if it is just make believe – and, he didn’t want them to treat it as make believe. He wanted them to come up with a real idea for a real product.

Her second favorite idea was an energy drink. She came up with a name, logo, and intricate storyboard. When she came up with her commercial concept, she cast her younger brothers as the stars. Unfortunately, she forgot to tell them that. She also forgot to tell them that she’d scheduled their rehearsal for most of Saturday and filming would take them away from TV, games, and whatever else they might’ve wanted to do.

This, of course, led to a rather large argument – which I tried valiantly to stay out of. You know lots of wheedling back and forth, righteous indignation, that sort of thing.

Daughter: Come on. I’ll help you with any homework you want. When you have to do this project, I’ll even play a song for it.

Oldest Son: I won’t even be in 6th grade for two years. Your teacher might be dead by then.

Daughter: He’s not that old, he’s not even as old as mom. (I still haven’t figured out why this is the line in the sand on old age, but there ya go).

Oldest Son: Still, that’s two years... what else you got?

Daughter: (voice rising in an obvious indication that the dramatics are about to begin) What do you want?!!!

Oldest Son: Fifty bucks.

Daughter: FIFTY?!!! Okay, fine. Fifty bucks.

Oldest Son: You don’t have fifty bucks. You have four dollars and a bunch of change. (Leans back on the couch with his arms under his head and a very smug, I-just-tricked-you look on his face)

Daughter: (blink, blink, blink... shuts and opens mouth getting good and frothy mad)

Me: She’s not giving you fifty dollars. How about if you do it out of the kindness of your heart and consideration for your sister who loves you and needs some help?

Daughter: (crosses her arms and grins triumphantly)

Oldest Son: (looks at youngest brother who’s been watching the argument with interest). That’s mom code for we have to.

January Progress - Koala Challenge

2010-02-01T14:02:00.004-06:00

I talked a bit about the Koala Challenge a few posts ago. You can click on my lovely, little Koala Badge in the sidebar and it will take you to McKoala's blog to check things out from the marsupial's headquarters.

I found out about and decided to do the challenge on January 18th, and as you can tell by my badge, I only got four points :-( I'm not completely ecstatic with that, but it gives me a good kick in the pants to try to climb that Koala ladder this month.

I'll keep my badge for the previous month in the sidebar, and change the status on the last day of each month (provided my status actually changes). I've also included the links for other participants. My linking has more to do with a handy-dandy way for me to find the blogs I'd like to visit... but feel free to visit them, too, cuz, ya know, they're cool.

How about you? Did you do the Koala Challenge and, if you didn't, how is your writing progressing?

Let Me Pick Your Brains... but, you know, not in the Zombie way...

2010-01-26T11:50:00.000-06:00

Okay, normally I don’t do this, but I want to talk a bit about my current WIP. Mostly because I want some opinions, discussions, verbal lashings if needed – and who better to get them from than the peoples who people my blog? So, if you’re a writer, editor, reader, or just unbelievably opinionated, I’d love to hear what you think:

So, here’s the dealie – I’m currently breaking a cardinal rule. Okay, it might not be a cardinal rule but it’s definitely something YA writers are admonished NOT to do. I’ve set my wip in the early 90’s... yes, yes, that also happens to be the same time period that I was the age of my characters... go ahead, make fun.

Here’s the thing, it’s actually harder for me to write it in that time period than it would be to make it current. The admonishment is generally directed at writers who set YA during their own childhood to make it easier for them, so they don’t have to immerse themselves in current trends, languages, etc. I’m actually better immersed in today’s YA world than I am in the one I grew up in. For the time period I’m writing in, I’ve had to do a lot of research, because, honestly, I didn’t remember when what fad took over. Speech is another thing that’s hard to master, because in your memory, all of those catchy little teenage phrases blend together.

I’ve been batting this back and forth since starting this wip. My feeling is that it needs to be set in that time period. That’s where these characters and their neighborhood’s story take place. The other thing is that we need to see where these characters end up, as adults. We need to see the impact of these events on their whole life – what paths did they choose, and how did the choices they made during the heart of the story impact them? That’s the whole scope of the story, to me, the larger repercussions and the impact on the whole. Without knowing the entire plot and characters, this might sound kind of convoluted. But that’s another reason I want it set back aways – the meat of the story takes place in the past, but the end of the novel is current day.

I suppose I could write the meat of the novel current day and still end it that way, staying away from too much heavy description of the time period for their future selves. And I’ve had that in mind ever since starting, that I might have to go back and rewrite, pulling them out of that time-period and into the current one.

But I’m kind of leaning toward breaking the rules. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard great agents and editors say not to set your YA in the 80’s (close enough). So that I know, when it comes time to query, I may already have a mark against me.

So, what do you guys think? Is it ever okay to break that type of a rule? Am I just giving myself excuses to keep it in the timeframe I want it in? Or does it all hinge on the execution? I know there are examples of this working – Stephen King’s The Body, which became Stand By Me was set in the 60’s but written in the 80’s. BUT he was already Stephen KING!!! I don’t want to set up even more roadblocks for myself. At the same time, I really love this story and I don’t want to dilute it for the sake of a sale, either.

So what’s your take? Have you ever broken a rule that improved your work? Have you ever broken a rule out of sheer stubbornness that on retrospect hurt your work? Am I just obsessing over silliness when I should be pushing out pages? (Yeah, yeah, I’m getting back to work right now.)

Kid Lit Contest - January 2010

2010-01-25T10:14:00.000-06:00

Mary Kole of Andrea Brown Literary Agency is holding a contest at her awesome Kid Lit Blog. She’s very specific with the requirements for your entry to be considered eligible, so if you’re interested in playing, you should really check out the submission guidelines.

She’s asking for the first 500 words to a finished middle grade or young adult novel. No picture books or adult fiction, but if you already have a finished and polished manuscript in mg or ya, it might be a great opportunity for you. All submissions are due by January 31st, so if you’re planning to play, you better get cracking.

Let me know if you enter... and for those of you participating in the Koala Challenge, it counts as a submissions... mwa-ha-ha.

The Koala Challenge – Show Me, Show Me, Show Me How You Do that Trick

2010-01-20T11:43:00.000-06:00

...the one that makes me scream, she said... the one that makes me laugh, she said... threw her arms around my head... show me how you do it... and I promise you, I promise that I’ll run away with you... (sorry, I was singing to Realmy)

This year, I’ve entered the Koala Challenge 2010

Isn’t that a cool little sinister Koala? JJ Debenedictis designed the awesome little badges that signify your progress for the month, and if you’re interested in playing, you can see all of the badges on her blog post, here. Even if you’re not interested in playing, it’s worth the trip just to ogle JJ’s artwork.

The basic idea is that each bit of writing equals a point in the system... but they’re not small bits of writing. It has to be a submission, for 1 point, for long fiction it’s 1 point per 4,000 words. That sinister badge up there equals 3 points, or 12,000 words if you’re only doing long fiction, and really the goal is to get the happy happy Koala, which is 9 points. You can go visit either McKoala’s or JJ’s posts linked above to get all the rules and see who else is playing.

“Okay, so what’s with the song at the top?” one might wonder. Around January, all of us writer types start discussing our goals for the year, our plans for what we’re going to do. I’m no exception. I wrote an entire, and entirely too long, post called, The Year of No Excuses on this topic. I got to the end and realized something – it wasn’t for you. It was for me. It was a way for me to work out what I was doing wrong and fix it for fuck’s sake. But you don’t need to know what I plan to do, or want to do, or what my goals are...so I printed it for me, but I never posted it.

There’s an old saying that I’ve loved for most of my life – “Don’t talk to me about what you’re going to do, show me what you did.” There’s a time and a place for dreaming and planning and plotting out your future – and it’s not meant to be shared. Okay, addendum, when you’re planning a joint future with someone you should probably key them in to your plans. But otherwise, you don’t need to know why I haven’t done what I haven’t done. You don’t need to know what I plan to do.

Giving out a detailed goal list for the month or year, just makes me feel like I have to make excuses for why I fell short. So, new tact. You’ll find my Koala Badge on the right hand sidebar on the last day of the month. So the last month’s progress will be visible until I change it to reflect the newest month. The motivator for me is that I hold myself publicly accountable. There is no hiding from my lapses and no shirking my workload. At the same time, though, it feels better to me to say at the end of the month – this is what I accomplished. I like the camaraderie of a group, too and the fact that other challengers can stop here and congratulate or give me shit about it.

Your turn – what have you accomplished lately that you’re proud of? And do you prefer to show or tell – or a little of both?

My Top Ten Reasons Why Writing Fiction Rocks

2010-01-12T00:21:00.001-06:00

Today’s a great day to do an uplifting post. The last one I wrote was a rant, which actually felt really good and cathartic. But I thought it might be a good idea to remind myself why we would crawl through glass rather than give up this very hard profession.

So, for your reading amusement:

My Top Ten Reasons Why Writing Fiction Rocks

10. The only numbers you have to worry about are page numbers and word count – and MS Word takes care of that for you.

9. When one of your characters pisses you off, you can get even with him in all sorts of diabolical ways – try that with your coworkers.

8. Seriously, when else will you get to plot a bank heist and not wind up arrested?

7. In normal society, when you sit around talking to yourself, they call you crazy. When you tell them you’re a writer, you become, ‘creative’.

6. You can strike fear in the hearts of friends and acquaintances by hinting that they’ll be included in your novel. (They all think they’ll be included either way, of course).

5. A writer’s daily adventure is only limited by his or her imagination. Pirate play, anyone?

4. You can wade waist deep in books and information on any topic that catches your passion – and it’s called research!!! Come on, how much cooler does it get?

3. You can populate your story with the most colorful, loyal, witty, amazing people you’ll ever meet – and then you get to hang out with them and call it work!

2. There is no dress code for writing fiction.

1. Writing gives you a chance to make sense of the story. It doesn’t replace life, but it makes the experience of living more powerful.

What reasons make your list? And have you done any writing today?

Irked - A New Rant for the New Year

2010-01-08T10:24:00.000-06:00

2+ years of fiction writing courses

10 + years writing / studying and learning craft

5 + years studying the publishing industry, learning how to write query / dreaded synopsis, and untold hours of studying agents / editors / houses, etc. etc. etc.

2 finished novels (one sucked so bad we’ll just call it education by stupidity and one hasn’t found an agent at this point, but still - lots of work)

3 + partially written novels, attempted and discarded between sucky book number 1 and completed book number 2

1 – Work In Progress, which has been written, completely scrapped, and started over from scratch

Untold number of online writing exercises, fiction writing classes, editing classes, and critique circles for to slash me to pieces and make me improve.

Untold number of bright and shiny ideas that have been partially plotted, character sketches, and miscellaneous files of work that may or may not be worth salvaging at some point in life.

Untold number of short story and flash fiction pieces, which I know is really not my forte but I have steadily been trying to get a handle on anyway because I feel that it will tighten my writing and improve my craft.

Rejections – don’t even get me started.

I should probably include reading on this list, but I almost feel bad including it because I’d be doing it whether or not I ever wanted to write... I love it... but then, I also love writing and I’ve included an awful lot of that on this list. I’d have to say about 30 years... but only about 20 of those since deciding I might like to write, and really 5 where I’ve been reading with a writer’s eye.

So there, as it stands to date, is my Fiction Writing Resume. It goes without saying that most of this has been squeezed in every crevice of time that wasn’t used for running my household, raising my children, volunteering my time, and producing the freelance writing that actually comes with a paycheck.

I know non-writers don’t really understand this whole thing. They don’t get that I’ve put in this time to improve and learn because I love this, without a paycheck, without any guarantee, without knowing for sure whether I’ll wind up at the end of years and years of hard work with nothing but failure to show for it. Hell, I’m doing it and sometimes I don’t fucking get it.

And, when you get down to it, I suppose I shouldn’t really care or bother with what anyone else thinks. But sometimes it takes a toll - all the people who’ve written me off as either lazy or stupid for not having a ‘real’ job. Every once in a while that gets really irritating. So, for the record:

I am not sitting around ‘playing’ on the computer.

I am not working for no pay because I’m incompetent.

Asking when I’m going to get a real job outside the house and pointing out that my children are old enough is not helpful. (Youngest is 7 – I don’t know what kennel raised you but I’m fairly sure my kids still need childcare of some sort)

This is not a hobby and even if it was, mine would be more productive than sitting at the bar, bowling for doughnuts, watching the ballgame, vegging in front of the TV, gambling the mortgage money, knitting, bingo, or Parcheesi... and far less expensive if you don’t count the ink cartridges.

Okay, fine, knitting might be more productive... I can’t make one myself, but I do enjoy a nice sweater.

Placating smiles and rolling your eyes behind my back are not appreciated (and yes, I can see you – pay attention to where the bar mirrors are, genius).

And for anyone guilty of any of the above mentioned behaviors, let this serve as notice: When my first novel hits the shelves, you are not allowed to say any variation of, “I knew you could do it,” or I will be forced to bitch slap you with said book - and you better hope to God it's not hardcover.

Okay, I’m done. Carry on.

Quencher - My Interview with Betsy Dornbusch

2010-01-04T13:56:00.003-06:00

Let’s start this new year with a bang – pun intended.

When our very own Betsy Dornbusch announced that she had a novella coming out, I was elated for her! I was even more elated when she scheduled a bit of time to answer a few interview questions for the blog (but I’m selfish that way...) You may know her as Sex Scenes At Starbucks, or Betsy, and her newer fans will know her as Ainsley. The new novella is called Quencher, and it just released on January 1st, 2010:

Isn’t it gorgeous?

You can pick up your own copy at Whiskey Creek Press, I just downloaded mine today. Here’s a bit about the book to whet your appetite:

At Quench Dating Services, you can experience a sensual night with a match that looks like the celebrity of your dreams—guaranteed, no fee, no gimmicks.

They only ask that you give blood.

Chere Richardson fantasizes about women. After her boyfriend proposes, she feels compelled to divulge her bisexual tendencies thus shocking him into breakup. Frustrated and lonely, Chere meets with her best friend, Adrianna, who is secretly a vampire. To help Chere realize her desires, Adrianna arranges a date for her through Quench. The date backlashes when scandalous photographs of Chere surface, igniting a firestorm of blackmail, jealousy, and investigations that could expose the truth about Quench. And the vampires behind the dating service will kill, not only a mortal like Chere, but even one of their own, to keep from being discovered.

On to the interview:

Merry - Congratulations on the release of Quencher! It looks fantastic and the cover is gorgeous! Having been a longtime reader of your blog, I was surprised with the genre (in a good way, I always love seeing new facets to writers I know). Was it difficult jumping to a completely new genre? What was the most challenging aspect and what was the most fun?

Betsy - Thank you! We were thrilled with the cover and Whiskey Creek Press has been great. I've had a ton of people emailing me in the past few days and sales have gotten off to a great start, so it's an exciting time.

The erotica/romance genre is a complete departure for me, though I've written stories about vampires before. Getting the sex scenes right was definitely the most challenging part for me, and my partner revised them significantly. They're like fight or horror/suspense scenes. I'm used to creating emotions within my readers, but erotica is about making them leap to a physical reaction. It's really hard to nail down the emotional/physical charge without weighing it with too much choreography (though let's face it, erotica readers like choreography).

I also had to admit to myself that my Midwestern/US upbringing made a mental block. I'm cognizant that there's still a deep bias against erotica in readers and some writers, especially here in the States, just as there's a deep bias against sex in the general public, especially the homosexual variety. I like to think of myself as pretty liberal socially, and this particular novella was a good way to make myself walk the walk. Just deciding to casually market it under my own name was a major decision, though I'm glad I have! Ironically, one of my most serious, controversial stories, a SF called "To Stop a War", just came out in Big Pulp. I keep finding myself directing readers there, lest they think I'm all about frivolous sex as a writer.

The other scenes flowed easily, and while sex is a major component of the plot, it's not the entire story. It helped that my partner and I nailed down the plot pretty well, though I surprised him with a major subplot. That was fun! In the end, though, writing is writing is writing. I applied the same techniques I've learned from writing commercial fiction and it seemed to work well for me.

Merry - Quencher is co-authored - is this your first writing collaboration? Tell us a bit about how the idea came about, and your process working together. Were you long-time writing friends prior to Quencher?

Betsy - Yeah, this is my first collaboration. My partner, E. Cameron Stacy, and I serve on the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers board together. We first started talking about working together the night we met, actually. We were at an open mic night and I read from a forthcoming vampire story. He liked my style and was looking for someone to partner with because of a backlog of projects. I'd been looking to expand my sales goals and erotica is a rapidly growing market, so our mutual needs fit.

The project is part of a three novella series, and he had ideas for all of them. He sent me a synopsis, which together we nailed down into a scene-by-scene plot, though as I said, I added to it during my drafting. I sent him the finished draft and he went through and cleaned stuff up. We talked it through nearly scene by scene. I reread, revised, and that draft sold. The whole thing took maybe three or four months, and that was mostly due to me having to fit in drafting QUENCHER amid other projects.

I think that we're more business partners than friends helps a great deal. We're also both frank people with thick skins, so there isn't any pussyfooting around. You don't get that with everyone.

I'm contracted to draft the last book in the series: QUENCHED, and I'm learning it's important to build a backlist in the genre, so Ainsley isn't finished yet. I'm also plotting a SF novella for that pseudonym. I plan on writing it later in the year when QUENCHED and my SF thriller novel THE SILVER SCAR are finished.

Merry - What would you say are the major differences in working with a partner as opposed to solitary writing?

Betsy - The first thing to go is all sense of "preciousness" about writing. I'm not precious about it anyway, since I'm in a great critique group, I've worked with editors, and I'm somewhat of a brutal editor myself. We had to be up front about what worked and what didn't, and we were on a tight schedule, so there wasn't much time to lick wounds.

Some writers would really hate to write to someone else's idea (though I had a lot of say - it truly was collaboration). I didn't find that to be the case. Plotting is the toughest aspect of writing for me and I'd say it's my partner's strength, so in a sense, collaborating was a relief.

The most difficult part was words or phrases getting changed (often to create a lighter, more genre-specific voice), but I had to let it go. I think my experience in doing interior design and commission painting for clients really helped me to immediately recognize that it's his book, too. I'm very pleased with the final product.

Merry - Without giving too much away, can you give us a little taste of your favorite scene, or tell us a bit about your favorite character from the novella?

Betsy - I've long been a proponent of LGBT rights, and the idea of writing about a woman struggling between her attractions for women and her love for a particular man really appealed to me. I also really like the main character's best friend, Adrianna. She's a newly turned vampires struggling with her own life changes and insecurities. Her subplot echoes Chere's journey, and my favorite scene is when it all comes together for her.

Thanks so much for having me! I hope you enjoy QUENCHER!

Betsy will be stopping in here and there, feel free to ask any questions in the comments section. I’d love to hear from any readers, too, so if you’ve already started on Quencher, let us know what you think.

Out with the Old, In with the New...

2009-12-29T01:40:00.000-06:00

The week between Christmas and New Year’s is always a week of reflection. The eternal optimist in me likes to see the New Year as a new beginning – opportunities, experiences, forward movement. I’m always a little surprised when it sucks – I look at the future in a way that says everything’s on an upswing... something good is coming. I prefer to be the constant optimist. Even when I’m wrong, at least I’m not perpetually miserable.

As this year draws to a close, I’ve found myself reflecting on my progress over the past year – maybe it’s the fiction writer in me, but I see themes. This year was one of connecting, and reconnecting. It was coming back into my own in a way I don’t think I’d fully done since having my kids. There was the me before being a mom, and the me after – I’m just coming to the place where they fit together, instead of tucking them both into neat little compartments, only to be dragged out in certain social settings. It was a year of rebuilding old friendships, and finding some new family. All good stuff.

I’ve been sitting here thinking about all of the different compartments in my life, all of the goals not yet met and the ones I’ve been blessed to attain. I’m not doing so bad, and this week is a good one to give thanks. I don’t normally talk about my religious beliefs, but this is a good week to light a candle and give a few prayers of thankfulness, for the guidance, and help, and ear. I don’t have everything I want. I haven’t done all that I mean to. But the game’s not over yet, either, and I feel damn lucky I even get to play.

As I get ready to greet the year yet to come, I’ve decided to spruce up the blog and do some redecorating, I’m not sure how much I like the new colors yet – but hey, I can change it... Like me, the blog’s a work in progress. Out with the old, in with the new... but that’s not really the most appropriate title. I’m purging what no longer fits, is gathering dust on my shelves or taking up space in the closet... and sending what I can on to someone else who can use it. I’m not getting rid of all the old, though, some of it sticks with you forever – and that’s not such a bad thing, either.

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year. What was your theme in 2009? And do you have one for 2010? What are your resolutions and for what do you feel truly blessed?

Christmas Songs, Writing Style...

2009-12-07T15:46:00.000-06:00

Me loves me some bloggy contests. Over at Miss Snark’s First Victim, there’s a Christmas Song Parody Contest right now. You can follow the link to see the rules posted at her place, and the comment section is open to submissions today and tomorrow (Dec. 7 & 8) – she’s actually shutting comments at 8 am est on the 9th. Oh, and there’s a great prize – agent, Lauren MacLeod, will be offering a query letter critique to the winner.

Personally, I just love the fun. There are a lot of awesome entries if you get time to do a little reading. Here is mine, in case you’re interested, to the tune of Silver Bells:

Query Hell

Busy writing
Keyboard fighting
My tenth draft took its toll
Sent it out
To my beta’s
Sharp scalpels
Then there’s tapping
Keyboard rapping
Fixing hole after hole
‘Til it’s good as this writer can get.

Query hell, query hell
Rejections come, what a pity
Email pings, damn this thing
When will it be a request?

Made my prose tight
Got the voice right
Through each perfect-paced scene
Followed each
Agents’ wish to
The letter
Got the format
Query’s down pat
She won’t know that I’m green
Yes, it’s good as this writer can get.

Query hell, query hell
Rejections come, what a pity
Email pings, my heart sings
My God, I got a request!

I’m Not Screwing Off Online... It’s Research

2009-12-05T14:58:00.000-06:00

The Internet is a beautiful thing for writers. Jumping into initial research has never been easier. Remember when you actually had to go to the library or bookstore before you could even start your research on any given topic? Now you can get loads of information and even narrow your search for the sources you’ll want to check out.

Of course, research is just the tip of the iceberg, there’s also networking, the latest publishing news, and constantly updated submission guidelines and listings. Woo Hoo; used to be we had to rely on months old copies of one of the market guides.

Good Internet what’s chained at my wrist that I key into with the same verve as a crack addict hitting the pipe.

And really, without it, how would I ever be bent over laughing hysterically by the news that, yes, EVERYONE no, seriously, everyone, is writing a book?

Without it, how would I find fantabulous new authors to stalk, er, umn, watch, oh – that’s not good either... admire? Yeah, that’ll work. Or new industry blogs for to amuse me:

That particular post was on writers using a typewriter, rather than word processing system – my favorite bit was this:

...Will Self says that with a typewriter, "You don't revise as much, you just think more, because you know you're going to have to retype the entire fucking thing." (I, and several of my fellow editors, believe that since the word processor came into widespread use, the tendency of manuscripts to balloon to excessive lengths has become more pronounced.)

See, all good stuff. Me thinks I do protest too much.

Here’s what I’m noticing in my own online time – it’s never flippin’ ending. I check my email whenever I’m near the computer... and being that I’m trying to write, I’m near the computer an awful lot. I check my facebook, pm people, and whenever I see something in my inbox, I have a compulsive need to take care of it, or at least read it and mentally note that I have to take care of it... and blogging, I can kind of stay away from it for days, weeks, even. But once I’m there, I follow links, check all the industry blogs... yada... fine, at least it’s productive in the sense that I get to talk to people who I like, and learn a few things, and keep up on new events in publishing.... BUUUUUUT (you knew one of those was coming, right?)

I keep getting sidetracked by stupid people. Yes, stupid. I’m not linking any of them, because they’re stupid, infuriating, annoying, dead wrong, or just toxic. (And no, I’m not talking about anyone I regularly follow or who is on my sidebar, if you made my linky list, odds are good that you rock out loud.)

Seriously, though, I do this stupid thing. Yes, I’m occasionally stupid. I run across a blogger or blog that irritates the living hell out of me. Usually it’s an ism, elitism is probably my biggest pet peeve. At one point it was a blogger who did nothing but slam the industry and individuals in it. It’s been atheists who slam people of faith, people of faith who slam every person on the planet that won’t drink their particular brand of kool-aid, pompous nitwits who denigrate anyone and everyone...

Sometimes I will comment. Sometimes I just find myself stopping in to read what’s being said. And I don’t do this all the time. One particular venue will raise my ire for a little while and then I’ll eventually stop going there to annoy myself... and then I find another one...

So here’s the thing, here’s my early New Year’s Resolution, no more procrastination by annoyance. When I find another blog that’s, full of shit, purposely inflammatory, or just generally run by someone you can’t possibly have any type of thinking discourse with – even though they swear up and down they’re the most intelligent and open minded people on the planet (sorry, eternally annoyed by this type of silliness), my aim and goal is to move on. Not to comment. Not to bookmark or check back or even participate in any way. If it incites me to that extent, I can write my own article or blog on the subject – gee, like this one.

What I realized was this was my own little sick and twisted form of procrastination. I have work to do, and when I do find time to tool around on the internet, I’d rather spend it visiting bloggers I like.

How about you guys? Do you find yourself getting off track by this lovely little demon we call progress? How do you keep yourself from time-wasting for too long?

My Kids Kill Me and Other Fun Stuff

2009-11-30T13:17:00.000-06:00

My daughter probably gets the most play on this blog, because she cracks me up so much. At twelve, that sense of humor and sarcasm is just hysterical. But lately, littlest guy has been overshadowing her sharp wit with a bit of shenanigans of his own.

I should’ve probably seen it coming. When he was four, his grandparents stayed here for a week. Grandpa was putting his already worn clothes in one bag to take back home, and littlest guy told him, “You don’t have to do that. Just throw them in the hallway, Mom’ll wash them.”

Mind you, littlest guy is only seven now, so I’ll have years of laughs and hopefully won’t ever have to bail him out of jail.

My kids all play a Sims game on the computer. It’s actually my daughter’s, but the boys have their own little families and games going. If you’ve never played it, you get a character, and you can build their house and pick their career and friends, etc. I don’t actually know what’s so exciting about it. This version isn’t online, so they’re playing with the game, but not chatting or playing with other real people. And they have different versions, so you can make sure they’re pg-13.

Like I said, littlest guy is seven. I sat down to watch him play on this game. His character has a wife and kids, he designed his own house (a lot nicer than mine, I might add)... he wanted a dog, but this particular game doesn’t have a ‘pets’ option.... so I’m watching him maneuver around the game and notice an extra female character. Yeah, that’s his character’s girlfriend. He has a wife and a girlfriend on the side...

The latest and greatest – I took him to the grocery store the other day and they had one of those big freezers empty and all cleaned out. They were probably getting it ready to stock with holiday stuff. So we’re walking past and I’m looking at my list with the kids following behind me, and suddenly I hear him say:

“Woah! That’s a huuuuuge freezer! You could fit like ten bodies in there!”

And some guy’s walking around the corner, as my jaw hits the ground. And this guy turns about two shades of red and hightails it back the way he came from.

I swear to God, I’ve never let him watch Goodfellas, I have no idea where he gets it from... but I’m thinking I have to start reinforcing the, “thou shall not be a sexist pig” commandment... okay, it’s not actually in the top ten, but it’s definitely in mine. At this point, I’m kind of hoping he’s a natural born crime writer.

Oh, and on to the other stuff:

Book Give Away!!!

At the beginning of November, I did an interview with Linda Weaver Clarke, which you can find here. For those of you interested in historical fiction, and those who just like free booksies, her novel, Jenny’s Dream is being raffled off for the price of a comment on Suko’s Blog The drawing is on December 7th, so get your post up before next Monday!

Moments

2009-11-23T12:34:00.001-06:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about characters. What makes me want to take their journey with them? While there are different variables to what makes a good novel, it always comes back to the characters. The greatest plot and most driven action only work if the characters are fully formed. Okay, that’s not exactly true. You can rest a lot on good writing and a fantastic hook – but without that spark of life in the character, you might have a publishable book, but not a great one. The thing I notice is that great characters can sometimes make up for failings elsewhere, but without them the novel will eventually fade from my memory. It becomes lost in between all the other ‘meh’ books I’ve read – not really pinpointing what was wrong but not special enough to love.

I doubt the authors are completely aware that they haven’t gone the distance with the character when it happens. Usually there are things, qualities, which put together on paper seem to make a really remarkable person. But there’s something missing from point A to point B. Something gets lost in the translation between what’s in the author’s head and what the reader gets.

Every great novel, or movie, or story that’s ever stuck with me in that life-changing, earth shaking way share a common denominator – I fall in love with the characters. And whenever I fall, it’s in the moments. You can count on spectacular writing (or movie making, or singing... insert artistic medium here). There are particulars, of story or plot or theme, that change and have some of this and a little of that. But there are always moments. I’ll give you a few examples, so you can see what I’m saying.

I love Stuart Neville’s The Ghosts of Belfast. I was surprised how much I adored this book – and I’ve seen Stuart around the blog-o-sphere for a very long time, so I already knew he was brilliant. But I’m not a big thriller reader – here and there, but I don’t go out of my way to pick up thrillers or crime fiction. He got me in the moments. And against all odds, I couldn’t help but fall for Gerry Fegan – and believe me, if you haven’t read it, Fegan himself gives you ample reason to stay the hell away from him.

And I don’t want to mislead you – the writing was brilliant enough to keep me turning the pages, but it was in those moments that he hooked me. There were more than a few peppered through the book, but here’s the one that sticks most prevalent in my head:

Marie McKenna lay naked beside him. It was his bed, but it wasn’t. It was his house, but it wasn’t. Fegan was naked, too, and it shamed him. He went to cover himself.

“Don’t,” she said, moving his hand away.

“I’m not clean,” he said.

She hushed him, and moved in close. Her body was warm against his. She kissed him. Her mouth was soft, like summer air.

When he was free of her lips, he said, “It’s been so long. I don’t know what it feels like.”

“It feels like this,” she said, taking his hand and placing it on her breast.

Her skin was soft, her breast round and supple, with a hardness against his palm. Yes, that’s what it feels like. Smooth, warm...slick?

He looked down. His hand had smeared red on her body. She looked down, too, and he saw her mouth twist in disgust. He tried to wipe it away, but only made it worse, great crimson hand-prints across her breasts and stomach.

To be fair, this was a dream sequence, and picking it apart with the other scenes that really got me, it was the juxtaposition of who this character was on the outside, what the world saw of Gerry, and who he was inside. It was the hope, in this scene it was the hope, when so much else going on said quite plainly that the only thing coming was death, I couldn’t help but love a guy who still carried a glimmer of hope with him, even in the face of despair.

An all-time favorite of mine is Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. Again, too many moments to pinpoint them all – and of course, his mastery of dialect has always enthralled me in a way that I can’t even express adequately. But there is one scene above all others that springs first to my mind whenever the book is mentioned.

Throughout the novel, Huck struggles with the fact that he’s helped Jim run away. Conventional views of the time tell him over and over again that this is a great sin, that Jim is property and he’s essentially stolen him from his owner, a woman who’s never done anything to deserve the theft. He gets to the point where he can’t even pray over it because, as he realizes, “You can’t pray a lie.” And he knows that he can’t ask for forgiveness when he has no intention of giving Jim over. So he writes a letter to Miss Watson, thinking that once he’s got it out, and can send it, he can go the “right” way:

...and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the only one he’s got now: and then I happened to look around, and see that paper.

It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was trembling, because I’d got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:

“All right, then, I’ll go to hell” – and tore it up.

It was awful thoughts, and awful words, but they was said. And I let them stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole thing out of my head; and said I would take up wickedness again, which was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn’t. And for a starter, I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again; and if I could think up anything worse, I would do that, too; because as long as I was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog.

The moment is obvious, how can you not love a kid who would go to hell, who literally believes he is damning his eternal soul, rather than turn over a friend?

When I started really picking apart these moments, I notice that for me they always let me inside the character. Sometimes they’re internal thoughts, sometimes actions, sometimes scenes between two characters, but they always let me inside... the same intimacy that makes you fall in love with a person.

What are your moments? I’d love to hear them, a passage from one of your favorite works, or one you’re proud of from your own fiction... Or if you’d like, a paraphrase from one of your favorite novels or movies... what makes your moments? Bonus points if you can make me melt.

Middle School Sucks

2009-11-19T12:20:00.002-06:00

Being that this is my daughter’s sixth grade year, I’m still learning how to be the parent of a middle school kid. And you forget exactly how warped and mean some of these kids can be, but you forget other fun stuff, too.

My kid is predictably unpredictable. She’s back in piano lessons and the first time we talked to the guy in the office at her new music school was a trip. He heard she was twelve and immediately started telling me how she could learn anything from classical to Hannah Montana... at the mention of the later, she rolled her eyes so hard it put a crack in the ceiling and said, “How about Led Zepplin, or Aerosmith, or Kiss?!!!”

Yep, that’s my baby. She also likes jazz, not so much pop, but a few songs here and there. Rock is a little more her speed. I think, at first she expected me to be the typical mom who frowns on that sort of thing, except, ya know, I know all the words and tend to hum along while she picks out the melody. She’s got a real knack for figuring out a song by ear.

Brag, brag, back on point. She’s creative. Not just with music, she does voices. She’s got a bit for almost any nationality you could think of, complete with multiple characters... Ask her to do the Hispanic Darth Vader and I would bet money you’d be on the floor. She makes up characters and directs little shorts with her video camera. The latest is The Adventures of Peeky – I don’t actually know what it’s about. But since I won’t let her have a YouTube account (because I’m paranoid of having my kids’ faces out online), she’s taken to enlisting her little brothers and assorted friends in acting the bits out wherever we are. Apparently it’s pretty funny, because a gaggle of kids will follow her around at my son’s football practice or picking up the youngest from his school, asking her to do another “Peeky Scene”.

This is all well and good, I guess. It’s just in her nature. I was always creative, but I am nowhere near as extroverted as she is... she’s a born performer and she enjoys the spotlight.

But the last thing you want to do in middle school is stand out. So this year, she’s had some issues, with one girl in particular. And we’ve had discussions at home about being popular and all that jazz... surprisingly enough, she doesn’t want to be popular. According to her, to be popular you have to pay too much attention to your clothes and hair and you don’t get to do anything fun, like voices. (I have a sneaking suspicion that she’d relish being popular if she still got to be herself – we all want to be liked... but I’m fairly happy that she’s not willing to compromise who she is to get there).

At first this girl called my daughter “weird”. But that didn’t work out so well, because my daughter just agreed with her. “I am weird. I’d rather be weird than normal.”

So, of course, as with all things, it escalated. The one that really, really bothered me - this girl told her, “You’re ugly and no boy will ever want you.”

Seriously, where the fuck does an 11 year old get this perception? That you’re only worth something if some boy wants you!!! I know, I’m weird and the insult wasn’t near as bothersome as the mindset it sprung from... and I should probably dislike this kid who’s picking on my kid, but really I feel sorry for her and I hope to God it was some random insult rather than the way she really sees the world, and her place in it.

And I’m sure my daughter’s not telling me all of it, probably just the watered down version of events – I’m just happy she’s telling me any of it, to be honest. I wouldn’t have said a thing to my mother... and I’m trying to let her handle it on her own at this point, but checking in with her about it pretty much daily. I’ve had other moms tell me to call the school but I told her I wouldn’t and I don’t want to break that trust and have her hiding things from me.

I’d love to give you guys some kind of ending here... like a story, to wrap it up in a neat little bow and tell you how it ended... but it’s likely to be ongoing for quite some time. And I’m not sure how we’ll handle the next thing. Another reminder of how fiction is different than real life – in fiction, you can make Karma work a lot faster... on the other end of the scale, none of this will matter much in the long run, except maybe as fodder for her future characters.

How much do you remember from middle school? If you have kids, was it harder to watch them go through it? And for you middle school writers, how much of the reality colors your work?

Wasting Time and Self-Imposed Boundaries

2009-11-08T23:40:00.000-06:00

Nathan Bransford’s recent blog asked the question, “Can anyone be a good writer?”

For me, the answer is simple. But the commenters’ answers were more fascinating than my own take, because most of them were so adamant.

A few years ago, I volunteered to run an art appreciation program at my kids’ school. I designed classes around famous artworks and spent a good portion of the time discussing the artist and time period, and then modified projects so that the kids could use an array of mediums throughout the school year that were age appropriate – depending on the grade. I worked with every grade from pre-k through sixth and wound up teaching a lot of classes instead of just my own children’s classes.

Now, I helped other moms design their projects, found volunteers, even put together the art show at the end of the year, and worked with the program for I think two years... but the most vivid memory I have of the entire experience is this:

I set up a still life in the middle of the fourth grade classroom. I don’t even remember who the artist we studied for this one was, but the fun part was letting each of the kids find things in their desk or around the room that they thought were interesting and decide where to set them on the table in the middle. So there was this great big hodgepodge of STUFF. And I had them all sit in a circle around the table and then I told them to draw it... oy, the looks on their faces! Like a deer caught in the headlights. I wasn’t thinking.

When you tell someone to draw, someone who hasn’t already studied how to see things in that way – with an artist’s eye, well, they need something specific. You can’t give them too much. They don’t know where to look.

So I slowed them down a bit. Told them to breathe and told them each to pick a spot out of the still life that most appealed to them; I even let them move around the room to find what they found most interesting. They could draw it as large or as small as they wanted, include as many things as they wanted... it was all about their own perspective.

As I was walking around, a boy raised his hand, his page was still blank and the pencil was in his hand... and he looked at me and said, “But, most of us won’t be good drawers, right? I mean, like, some people are good drawers and then the rest of us will never really be good at it, right?”

So I told him the truth. “No, that’s not right. Anyone can learn to draw. Any person who wants to spend the time and put in their best effort can learn to draw and draw well. It’s a skill, and there are techniques, and to get really good takes a lot of practice, but there is no special ‘thing’ you either have or don’t that says you can draw. It’s all about working on it.”

See, there was another kid in this class who was talented. She had that X factor and had the ‘artist’ title in the class... so that’s probably where the question came from, but I wasn’t about to be the person that gave this kid a boundary and told him he’d never have the capacity to cross it.

And you know what – he crossed it. His drawing was good, and detailed, he picked small little skeleton erasers and some portion of a weaved basket thing... you could see every bone.

Now I’m pretty familiar with the whole, talent vs. work debate. And I do personally think there is a little kernel of something, that intangible we call talent, in great artists, writers, or really anything... I mean, there’s probably some intangible in surgeons and mathematicians, too, we just don’t generally call it talent, we call it intelligence instead... but it’s the same thing really. Some people have a natural ability in certain areas. That’s talent. It comes easier or there’s a spark there, and you’ll often hear other writers or artists talk about how you could see it as far back as grade school.

I had it. I got all that attention for being talented and creative... in drawing, not writing. If teachers from grade school saw me today, they’d probably wonder if I was doing anything with visual arts, because that was what I was known for then, what seemed to come easy for me. No one noticed anything interesting in my writing until late in high school... in fact, I was in one of the lower reading groups in grammar school.

And, getting back to the talent thing – I don’t actually have that spark in the visual arts. I figured that out on my own, and I think that’s how everyone should come to their own limitations or lack thereof. Just because my early dispositions leaned toward drawing doesn’t mean I was talented, it means I was interested. Interested in saying something. That’s what it was about. I’m still interested in the same thing, telling a story, but I’ve found I like doing it in words, scenes, through characters... or sometimes through blog rants.

So I don’t know – can anyone be a great writer? A great artist? Well, I guess it depends on your definition of great, and that’s subjective at best. What’s more interesting though, is why you come up with your answer to that question, and who you’re drawing boundaries for... because really, all of the years I spent drawing and painting... they weren’t wasted. I’ve taken the techniques and way of looking at things into every other area of study – no time you spend learning anything is ever really wasted, the skills always translate to other areas if you’re just open to it...

What’s your answer? Can ANYONE be a great writer? If your answer is no, who do you think needs to stay behind the line your boundaries draw? And how did you make it across, or did you?

Getting Historical - My Interview with Linda Weaver Clarke

2009-11-05T09:49:00.002-06:00

One of the best things about blogging is that it gives me the opportunity to meet so many fabulous people. Recently, my blog introduced me to another great writer. Linda Weaver Clarke writes historical fiction and she also goes around the country lecturing on genealogy and writing out your own family history. She was kind enough to let me interview her for the blog, and Linda will be around to answer questions. So away we go:

Merry: I find the idea of teaching a Family Legacy Workshop fascinating! I'm wondering, did you get the idea from working with historical fiction, or did you start by working on your own ancestry and then got into historical fiction?

Linda: I was first interested in putting my own family stories together. After writing my ancestors’ stories, I couldn’t stop writing so I turned to historical fiction.

Merry: How do you spur your ideas, as far as setting as historical placement for your novels? Do you find something in your research first, or do you have the idea and then research the time-frame?

Linda: Sometimes in my research about an area, I find something that gives me an idea for a book. I get most of my ideas from true experiences and every day life, though. For example, in my first book, “Melinda and the Wild West,” it was inspired by a true experience that happened to me as a substitute teacher. A teacher labeled a young girl as a troublemaker and put her behind some bookshelves so she wouldn’t be a menace to others. I based my story on this experience, but I also wanted it to be a love story. This book eventually won an award as one of the semi-finalists for the “Reviewers Choice Award.”

In “Edith and the Mysterious Stranger,” I based this story around the courtship of my parents. They didn’t meet the conventional way. They wrote letters to one another before they ever met. She said that she fell in love with the soul of my father, and they didn’t even know what one another looked like. The day they met, my mother told me that her heart leapt within her and a warm glow filled her soul and she knew she would marry this man. I knew this would be the basis of my next novel, but there’s one difference. In my story, you don’t know who the mysterious stranger is until the end of the book. Some readers guessed correctly while others were pleasantly surprised.

“Jenny’s Dream” was inspired by events that happened to me in my youth. I learned that forgiveness was essential for true happiness. In this novel, Jenny must learn to forgive and put her past behind her. This story is about accomplishing one’s dreams and the miracle of forgiveness, with a bit of adventure from Old Ephraim, the ten-foot grizzly bear taken from Idaho history. The research about this old grizzly was exciting to me because I had grown up with the stories of Old Ephraim. He wreaked havoc wherever he went, slaughtering sheep and calves, and scaring sheepherders so badly that they actually quit their jobs. With one blow of his paw, he could break the back of a cow. I found that he was the smartest bear that ever roamed the Rocky Mountains. No one could catch him. Every bear trap they set was tossed many yards away from where they had put it, and the ones that weren’t tripped had “Old Three Toes” tracks all around it. He was too smart to be caught. In this story, I included every detail about this bear and his deeds.

My great grandmother, Sarah Eckersley Robinson, was my inspiration for “David and the Bear Lake Monster.” Sarah lost her hearing as a child but she never let her deafness stop her from developing her talents. I took a lot of her experiences from her biography and gave them to my heroine to bring some reality into my story. Sarah was known as one of the most graceful dancers in town. She was known for gliding across the floor with ease, with just a touch of her partner’s hand. Sarah had such agility and gracefulness while swimming, that people would actually throw coins in the water so they could watch her dive after them. Once an intruder hid in her bedroom under her bed, thinking he could take advantage of her since she was deaf. He must have thought she was an easy victim but was sadly mistaken. She swatted him out from under her bed with a broom, and all the way out of the house, and down the street for a couple blocks, whacking him as she ran. What a courageous woman! In this book, I also added real experiences about the Great Bear Lake Monster, a part of Idaho history. Does it exist? Well, the people of Bear Lake believe in it. I’ve met people whose grandparents actually saw it. This part of my research was fun. To read an excerpt from each of my novels, visit: Linda’s Website

Merry: For family histories, how would you advise someone new to genealogy to get started?

Linda: It’s important to teach our children their heritage. Our children need to understand their ancestors and be proud of them. First, write down any experiences that you remember. Talk to family members and discuss memories. Use letters they wrote to one another. If possible, go to the area your ancestors settled, walk around, find specific places of importance, where your ancestors lived, went to school, and played. If you can’t go there in person, then do research and find pictures of that area.

Time Period is another important part of research. Find out what existed back then. During the roaring twenties, bobbed hair was the rage. If your grandmother bobbed her hair and went to the dance marathons, write about it. If they lived during war times, it helps your children understand why their grandparents had such tough times. When writing my father’s biography, I found out that in 1942 they rationed gas to three gallons a week. To me, that was amazing. How about prices? Did it cost ten cents to go to the movies and five cents for an ice cream cone? And what flavors existed? Did they travel by horse and buggy or a Model T Ford? All this info makes an interesting story. To read samples of what you can do with your stories, visit my website at www.lindaweaverclarke.com and read the “short stories” of my ancestors.

Merry: Are there any research methods you find particularly helpful or favorite sources you revisit for various projects?

Linda: I do research on the Internet and in books. If I research the Internet, then I always make sure there’s a bibliography along with it. You don’t want people’s opinions but facts. I had a blast researching for my last book, “Elena, Woman of Courage.” It was in the 1920s so I did a search about the language for that time period. I found words that I didn’t even know such as: Cat’s pajamas! Ah, horsefeathers! Baloney! You slay me! If you were All Wet, you were mistaken or wrong about something. If a man said, “Hey, look at those gams!” What were gams? Of all things, it’s a woman’s legs. When referring to a woman, they used doll, tomato, and bearcat. When a person was in love, he was goofy. If a person was a fool, he was a sap. And when a woman wasn’t in the mood for kissing or romance, she would say, “The bank’s closed.” I was able to use all these words and much more in my book. The language was great!

Merry: I love historical fiction, but as a writer I find it daunting because I'm afraid I won't have a firm enough grasp of day to day life in the time period. Do you have any advice for would-be historical fiction writers on how to stay accurate and capture the voice of the time?

Linda: Research is the secret for me. I research the time period, the clothes they wore, whether electricity was used or not, whether closets existed, etc. I found out that clothes closets weren’t used in 1896. Melinda had to put her dresses in a Wardrobe. I found out that pencils were painted yellow for the very first time in 1896 and for a very good reason. I included it in my first novel and received many e-mails about it. I found that Idaho allowed women to vote in 1896. They were the fourth state to give women rights. Wyoming was first, Colorado was second, and Utah was third. It was fun to learn this trivia. Yes, research is the best way.

Linda’s books are available on Amazon, through local bookstores that buy from Baker and Taylor, and on her website: Linda Weaver Clarke.com

You can also get to know Linda through her blog.

I’d love to hear from you guys in the comments section. If you have any questions for Linda, she’ll be stopping in, or if you just want to discuss historical fiction, genealogy, or your own methods of researching, fiction and non.

Happy Halloween and other Announcements

2009-10-30T10:37:00.000-05:00

Happy Halloween!!! Yes, I know, I’m a day early. But I’m guessing any of you with kids will be having your fall parties today and running amok for the rest of the weekend. I will, too – we’ve got the kids class parties today, my daughter’s Halloween dance tonight, and of course, trick or treating tomorrow... mwa-ha-ha... so, I’ll be mostly running amok, myself, but I thought I’d stop and wish you all a Happy Halloween and update a little here.

I don’t know how many of you are doing NaNo, but it starts on Sunday!!! Holy crap, where did the time go? I’m not doing that one, actually, I’ve never done nano. But I hope everyone participating has a great and very productive time with it.

This coming Thursday, November 5th, I’ll be interviewing the very awesome Linda Weaver Clarke here on the blog. For those of you who don’t know Linda, she writes historical fiction and does workshops on genealogy and writing your family history. I’m really excited about this one!

Here’s the thing – I love historical fiction. In fact, it was one of my first favorites, from all the way back in grade school. Some readers go through phases where they read certain favorite authors continuously – I did that with time periods. American History has always captivated me, especially Civil War and Revolutionary War era novels, but I’ve gone on long stretches with other time periods, too...

And I have a backburner plot that’s historical... it’s been on the backburner for years, but I’m afraid to start it. Afraid I don’t have a good enough grasp of the history maybe or afraid I don’t have the chops for it. And that’s what we’ll be talking about with Linda. She’s going to give us some insights into researching for historical writing, as well as some ideas for those of you just looking to do a little research on your own family tree.

Linda will be around to answer questions in the comments section that day, as well. And I know there are a few other historical novelist that stop in around these parts, so don’t be shy – I’d love a great discussion on this one... mostly because I’m selfish and I’d like to learn more!!!!

Halloween Lite

2009-10-23T11:26:00.000-05:00

Halloween is around the corner, and I don’t know about you guys, but my kids are really starting to get psyched over it. We’re going today to pick out costumes. It’s funny because I used to spend so much time letting them pick out exactly what they wanted, and making it perfect, but none of them seem to want that anymore – store bought is just fine.

When my oldest was in Kindergarten, she wanted to be the Lollipop Princess from Candyland... try finding that costume in a store... so I made it. My oldest son wanted to be Danny Phantom, also a costume that no one seemed to make... the outfit was easy but turning brown hair bright white is a challenge, my friend.

Littlest guy has never wanted me to make him a costume. I’ve asked every year, and every year he wants something store bought... well, last year he wanted to be a cubs player, which was pretty easy since he already had a jersey, hat and his own baseball pants... I had to draw the line at wearing the cleats to school.

So this year, we’ll see... they’re getting older and they don’t want to be cartoon characters anymore... well, littlest guy might. My daughter varies back and forth between Peter Criss (the drummer from Kiss for those of you who slept through the last four decades), and something store bought. Oldest son wants something really scary.

But there are so many rules now; it’s hard to even make the event fun.

First of all – there are no Halloween parties at school. It’s called a “Fall Party” (I don’t know what’s wrong with the word Halloween, but there ya go)... and the Fall party can’t have anything Halloween-esque.... not witches or goblins or scary stories... you can use pumpkins, but no jack-o-lanterns... oy.

And candy. No candy. We’re not allowed to give out treats to the kids’ classmates. I can buy pencils or small toys for the kids, but no candy... what the hell? I thought Halloween was ALL ABOUT THE CANDY!!!!

Oh, and costumes... No masks (okay, I get it, they don’t want the distraction).... nothing violent. Seriously, nothing violent. I don’t remember any costumes that weren’t violent when I was a kid... it was scary or slutty. Pick one. Personally, I really prefer my daughter scary, thank you very much.

And on the one hand, I get it. Some kids have allergies, or are diabetic... but every year it just seems to get a little more extreme with what we’re allowed to do or say. My daughter had her Kiss costume all planned out, but now she’s thinking of store bought... because there’s no jewelry allowed except stud earrings... nothing shiny with sequence (because they might fall off and be a ‘slipping hazard’ – I’m not making this up, either!) No belts with studs no chains... you know, nothing fun. Basically, she’d be a kid dressed all in black with a cat face, and she doesn’t think that’s nearly as cool.

So how about you guys? Are you doing anything fun to celebrate Halloween? And what was your favorite costume as a kid... or even as an adult?

Social Media vs. Ethics - Death Match 2009

2009-10-12T12:42:00.000-05:00

In a lot of ways, this social media thing is like the Old West, and we’re all basically out in the wilderness, cutting our own paths where there are no roads, or trying to follow the barely worn trail of an explorer who’s come before us. Hello, Lewis and Clark.

Entrepreneurs, small businesses, and even the big corporations are eager to utilize the power of social media. It astounded me that all of my time fooling around online can now be considered experience on my resume. Web 2.0 has quite the cache.

While they can point to examples of marketing online that have boomed businesses and brought about coveted results, there’s really no fool proof formula. It’s not a tangible, why this worked for this person and the same thing fell short elsewhere... and that’s part of the allure of web 2.0 skills – it’s too wide open, too creative, too much of it says you have to be innovative to get noticed... so regular business folks are hiring other people to handle their facebook and twitter and blog accounts.

Ghost blogging’s been around forever. I’m not sure how many people were aware that there’s a large market out there for marketing and pr people (or writers who just need a little extra income) to step into this ghost social media market. Really it’s ideal for someone with a fiction writing background. Capture the voice of the company or person and speak as them online.

But how ethical is it?

Like everything, it depends on the exact scenario. For me, blogging or tweeting as a representative of a company is fine. I could do that, using my own voice or even someone else’s... what I can not do is pretend that I’m another living person.

I think readers or followers on twitter and facebook use these venues specifically because it opens up a window to talk to the actual person. If I knew that the editors and agents I follow weren’t the real people tweeting and blogging, that they passed it off to ghost web 2.0 people, I probably wouldn’t follow them. The point for me is the insider perspective into the industry and the ability to actually converse with people whose opinions and knowledge I respect. And hey, maybe their ghost tweeters would be just as knowledgeable, buuuut it smacks as unethical to me in that the readership is largely based on who you are and what you know.

The same would hold true for me with authors, or actors, and any specific person’s online persona. And I get the draw, there’s only so much time in a day and staying on top of your online platforms can be a pretty time-consuming job, more so if you have a lot of followers. But my answer to that would be not to use platforms that give the impression the reader is talking to you when they’re really getting your pr team. And the other thing I think it’s important to note – from what I’ve seen, pr teams suck at online marketing. Yes, they really really do. Tweeting and facebook and linkedin and even blogging – they don’t work for the hard sell. You can’t run a twitter account by constantly running 140 characters of infomercial. Nobody wants to spend their time there.

And that’s the thing. These venues work for personal interaction, or at least the illusion of personal interaction. When you take the person out of it, your readers can usually tell.

I think I might be too honest for a career in marketing. But I don’t see why marketing can’t be honest. Like I said, might not be the perfect spot for me.

So how about you guys? Would you consider blogging as another person or tweeting or any of the other social media stuff? Would you feel the same way if one of your favorite professional bloggers, authors or whatever, turned out to be ghost written?

See, it’s an interesting question for me because there’s such an odd fine line – I don’t have any problem with work for hire writing, that’s most of the writing I’ve done professionally. I don’t have any problem with ghost writers who do autobiographies or any other type of work really, but for some reason the social media thing crosses the line for me... maybe because the reader doesn’t expect interaction from the author of a book or article... How about you? Where’s your line – and how are you liking the wild wild west?

Words, Words, Everywhere Words

2009-10-07T13:28:00.001-05:00

Anyone ever heard of Wordle? If you’d like to see mine, it’s right here Don’t you love it? Basically, you punch in the url to your blog, and the site gives you a word jumble, kind of like a tag cloud, based on highly used words in your blog. To get your own, go to Wordle.net

The thing that struck me with this one was the phrase (of sorts) that ran across the wordle, “really just One writers VOICE”. Well, isn’t that a pretty nifty way to describe this blog. And that led me to jump to yet another fiction writing topic – perspective.

If you take any little section of the wordle, you can find words or phrases that take you to a different place, give you the start of a new story. I did a couple different versions, and in one (which I printed and will be framing, it was so cool) The word “VOICE” is all in caps and in very large print. The word “talk” is inside the “O” and the word “love” is inside the “C”. How perfect is that?

It depends on the way you look at these things. Are you taking a small section to concentrate on? Or is it the picture as a whole? And I think it’s the same thing with any art form. Georgia O’Keefe created beautiful paintings centered on one, single poppy, in the midst of an entire field of them. She might concentrate on the light and shadows through the curve of one small section on an animal’s skull. She did other, larger picture paintings, too, but you see what I’m saying here – the end product, the message your reader or viewer takes away, is largely dependant on the perspective you’re showing, the portion of emotion or story that you’re bringing to the forefront.

So what are you concentrating on in your writing? Is it a large picture or big theme that you’re most emphatically trying to get across? Are you concentrating on the minutia of character and feel of place in order to give a very detailed picture that plays into the overall themes? Or are you leaving the smaller descriptives for the reader to fill in and concentrating instead on the motion? What’s your perspective? Oh, and what cool words and phrases pop up in your wordle?

Feminism, Censorship, and Writerly Responsibility

2009-09-24T12:35:00.000-05:00

Moonrat recently posted a survey that got me to thinking. She asked which very popular books we’ve bought and read, liked, etc. One of the books on the list was Twilight.

Now, I have a certain prejudice against writers that belittle popular works. I’ve heard it so many times, and so often it’s simple sour grapes, that I almost uniformly disconnect from any of those diatribes. Saying you don’t like a work is one thing. Even picking apart why is fine, it’s that going overboard into “terribly written, how did it ever get published” stuff that bugs me. I’m sorry, as far as I’m concerned, if it’s selling in the stratosphere it speaks to people. Maybe it’s not your taste, maybe it goes against the “rules” of fiction writing, whatever, it still speaks and to me, you have to give the author respect for what they’ve accomplished, it doesn’t really matter if it’s not to your own taste.

That’s not to say I don’t hate some popular works. I hated Twilight, in fact. But it’s not because it’s terrible writing and I’m so much better than the author.... it’s not because I think that kind of writing is dragging down literacy, blah, blah, blah. As far as I’m concerned, that kind of thinking is for elitists, and if there’s one kind of “ist” I can’t stomach it’s the kind that makes itself feel superior by belittling others.

Twilight. I didn’t like it because it bothered my feminist sensibilities. That’s it in a nutshell. It bothered me so much, that I started picking out things, like the number of times “ochre eyes” were mentioned, just to have something else to roll my own eyes over. And to be honest here, as a writer, I saw so many areas where her craft could be improved. But to me, that’s a writing thing and shouldn’t be confused with a storyteller thing – bluntly put, it doesn’t matter if I think other authors are better masters of their craft, I can’t fault the storytelling and that’s what she was aiming for. I read the first one all the way through, just to make sure it wasn’t my speed, but I never read the rest of them. Because it bothered me.

She wants to be turned into a vampire – think about this, she wants to die, leave her own family forever, and cling onto his family after knowing this kid for a couple of months!!!! Aghhhhhhh! That’s what bothered me. He sat outside her window and watched her sleep... and it was portrayed as romantic!!!! Aghhhhhhhhh!!!!! Excuse me while I pound my head off the wall at the leaping, bounding, backfall of woman-kind.

It bothered me.

But - It bothered me as a thirty-six year old mother of three, one of which happens to be a girl. It bothered me today, knowing what I know, with the sensibilities I have. But the author’s job wasn’t to capture my sensibilities – her job was to capture Bella’s, a teenage girl in love for the first time. Me, today, would beat the bloody hell out of anyone watching me sleep through a flippin’ window. But that’s today. Do you remember how intense the emotions were in high school? Do you remember how serious everything was, how every little argument was blown up, every crush the end of the world? I do. Ms. Myers did her job. She wasn’t supposed to capture a mature woman’s sensibility at these events, she captured Bella’s. Tell me you didn’t know a girl in high school who thought her life was over when her first real boyfriend broke her heart... tell me Ms. Myers didn’t capture it with all of the angst. Because she did. If we’re honest, she did.

That’s the thing here, people aren’t always right. They don’t always live their lives the way that are best or exemplify a healthy or moral message. And whatever you add to your list of writerly responsibilities, a moral, a theme, a message – whatever you add to it, the cardinal rule you can’t break is being true to the character. When you do that. When you create a sixteen year old with the perception of a thirty-six year old, you’ve lost the battle... the craft might be there, but the storytelling is less than authentic.

The Celebrated Author mentioned that Twilight bothered her because so many young girls idolized Bella, as if she were a role model. I can’t say I disagree. It bothers me that there are girls in middle school reading this that might think dangerous relationships are romantic, etc. But, on the flip side of that coin, who do they have to talk to about it? I mean, seriously, we can’t be thinking of blaming a book for the way young girls think about relationships can we?

I don’t believe in censorship. I think, for the most part, it’s akin to hiding your head in the sand and hoping something goes away. I don’t believe in censorship for kids, either. Don’t get me wrong, you need to make sure things are age appropriate, but that doesn’t mean banning things you disagree with. My daughter’s in middle school and a bunch of her friends have started reading the Twilight series. She’s not interested yet. But if she does decide to read it, I’ll be reading along with her, so that we can discuss it together. Books and media don’t raise children, and when they disagree with the messages a parent wants a child to understand, it’s the perfect stepping stone for discussion.

Thoughts? Anything rile your feminist bone?

The Voices In My Head

2009-09-09T13:15:00.001-05:00

Writers talk a lot about voice. VOICE - if I could do big sparkly letters that jump off the screen and slap you in the face, I would. That’s how important voice is. Writers know this. It’s the one thing you can’t just learn. It’s outside of craft. I’ve seen writers with natural voices, ones that pull you in the second you read the first sentence – voices that make you smell and see and feel every nuance of where you are and who you’re with in their story. A lot of people call this, ‘natural talent’, but I think it has more to do with trust. They trust their voice. They don’t make any apologies for their voice. They don’t try to change it for the market or hide it from people who are more intelligent or poetic or whatever. They trust. Those people still have to work on craft. They have to tackle plot, and pacing, and all of the variables that mean you need to put your ass in the chair and do the work, but they’re a few steps ahead of the game, because they already trust their voice.

Voice. Everyone has one. Notice I didn’t say every writer has one. That’s not accurate, it’s like saying that anyone not pursuing writing doesn’t have a voice, and they do. Choosing not to use it doesn’t mean it’s absent.

So, what happens if you can’t find your voice? I think it’s a little different for everyone. Some writers will tell you to keep writing and eventually you’ll get to where you know it, hear it. But some of us miss it completely for a long, long time. Again, I think it has something to do with trust.

Now, here’s something that they don’t talk about often – every character has a voice. Erica Orloff just wrote this post about the character’s voice. If you’re a writer, you’ll definitely want to stop there. Your writing should reflect your character’s world, not necessarily your own. Does this mean you have a different voice for different novels? Yeah, kind of. The meat of who you are is still there – writers have tells in their wording here and there, but if you’re switching from urban commercial fiction over to middle grade, well, there better be a pretty significant change in the way you approach it. Your characters have to be whole, and they have to have their own voice. And that voice, your character’s voice, should permeate the novel.

For me, voice was a hard thing to find. What I realized, rather belatedly, was that my best voice, the most authentic voice I have, is guttural. Yeah, you read that right. I kind of knew this, knew that I’m at my most powerful when I’m bringing where I come from to the table – but it hit home more completely for me when I did the My Town Monday posts for Travis, especially this one. I wasn’t trying, it’s not edited – my blog posts often aren’t. Besides all of the wonderful comments, I had emails on this one; it was even linked in a message board for people from my neighborhood. I get visits weekly on that post, from people looking up Cicero on search engines. I’ve had people message me on facebook to tell me that they liked it. So it speaks, it speaks louder than some of the things I’ve agonized over in revision. Not because it’s polished, but because it’s authentic. Because I wasn’t thinking about the audience, I was just being, without worrying about being judged. Trust.

So why the hell did it take me that long? First, I read voraciously. I know, this is actually a good thing for writers, stick with me here. I like novels where the writing disappears and it’s all about story. I like novels where the language wraps itself around you and infuses your senses. I love classics, commercial fiction, fantasy... I love literature and language, and voice... all sorts of voice. So the first part of this is easy to answer. When I started writing, I was mimicking a lot of what I loved in reading... you can see where that might get confusing as I didn’t stick with any one thing as far as what I liked.

I also had an easy grasp of advanced literature from an early age. What got me noticed by teachers was not going to be the same thing that would get me noticed in fiction... Lots of heavy concepts and over-large words... I understood it and loved the flow of that academic voice, but it’s not my fiction voice. And then a lot of the fiction that really resonates with me is on the heavy side. It’s poetic or layered, even the more mainstream fiction that sticks with me for ages, has some bit of something – this spark of brilliance in thought, or concept, or theme.

So there’s the first thing. I adore other authors, but I had to learn to admire their work without squelching my own voice. Instead of forcing poetic prose, I had to get comfortable with what I am, and realize that lyrical is not the only kind of poetry... sometimes blunt and gritty can be beautiful, too. And sometimes pretty words don’t speak nearly as loud as authentic truth.

The second thing is a little deeper. That voice I told you about – I hide it. In my real life, I hide it. I learned fairly early that if you’re outside the neighborhood and can’t speak in a more intelligent way, people think you’re an idiot... actually, worse, they think you’re low class. My accent jumps out when I’m angry, or annoyed. It thickens when I’m around other people who have one. Okay, I’m around a few ‘suburban moms’ and will occasionally let it slip out because I know it’ll make them uncomfortable... I never said I wasn’t a ball buster. But from high school on, I learned to adopt a professional voice to be taken seriously. So that’s in there. There’s an automatic fear in using that voice that I’m opening myself up to judgment... but hell, I’m going to be judged anyway. I just got to the point where I figured, just because they’re judging me, that doesn’t make them right.

So, will I always write in that voice? No. It works for this wip - these characters, this story and most of all, this place. And maybe it’ll be a setting I revisit in future works, but for now I’m keeping my horizons open. There are other worlds and stories I’d like to capture, too. Other things to be said and voices that need to roam.

How about you? If you’re a writer, does your voice change in different novels and settings? If you’re a reader, do you notice a voice change from novel to novel in your favorite authors? And I’m thinking that this might be a good premise for a writing contest. Anyone interested? I think I can even muster up a few prizes.

The Writer Gene

2009-08-22T18:48:00.003-05:00

Me in my 'Birthday Suit'

When I was three, my mother bought me a new outfit to wear on my birthday. So I called it “My Birthday Suit” which of course got a lot of laughs that I didn’t quite understand. Those laughs are the reason I remember that it was a birthday outfit at all, instead of it just being some cheesy 70’s outfit my mother made me take a picture in.

Things like that always fascinated me, different meanings for words and phrases. I loved to find a new a different way to say things – double entendres still crack me up. Then again, with a name like, “Merry” I guess they should’ve seen that coming. I can still remember being baffled that other girls with my name spelled it the wrong way. Later, when I realized I was the odd one, I could actually hear the difference between someone else’s “Mary” and mine. People pronounce them the same way, for some reason I hear the spelling.

Erica Orloff often touches on topics of why writers write, why we’re wired to hear and see the things we do. And I wonder sometimes if it’s nature or nurture – I think it’s probably just in us. Another person without the odd writer gene might still have a name like mine and not feel the need to use a blog url like “Happycat”, or to think about it much at all. It’s just what it is.

I love to hear different writers talk about why they do what they do – their answers are often a bit different because just having the writer gene doesn’t mean we all share other outlooks and motivations. It just means the rest of our person found an outlet through words. Some writers swear that the very act of pursuing a career in writing means that there is ego there. Okay, maybe there’s ego everywhere in some degree or another. But there are some who say that they pursue writing because of their ego, their need for attention, their need to be heard and grab the spotlight – so they pursue it through writing because that’s where their surest talent lies.

For me, ego does come in, but not in the sense that I want a spotlight – when my writing veers toward flowery prose that go around in circles and add nothing to the STORY, I know I need to put the ego in check. It’s more about impressing the reader, or more often myself, and less about the objective. And it almost always means I’ve taken myself out of the character.

When I was in high school, I had a number of teachers who wanted to push me toward writing. I was still pretty set on art myself, but I enjoyed writing because I enjoyed the story. And it was safe, because no one knew about it. I wrote an assignment and handed it in to my English teacher and no one else had to know what was in there – but I loved it. I loved playing with the words and I loved the freedom of not having any real expectations on that part of me. Sure there were grades, but I wasn’t particularly worried about my English grade. Then one day my English teacher decided that one of my essays was so good that it should be shared, and she did. She read it to all of her classes, with my name attached, for the whole day.

I wanted to crawl under the foundation, I did. Teachers I didn’t even know were shouting praise at me in the hallways. And all of the sudden there was expectation. My friends hadn’t known I could write, and I didn’t know how to react to the praise. And I didn’t want it. I had a good gig going, compartmentalizing so that this thing was here and the rest of me was there and I wasn’t known by what I did... but more than that, I didn’t want the spotlight, I just wanted to write the story.

The teacher was a really nice and supportive one, and I’m sure she thought that would be a great confidence boost for me. But I wasn’t looking for one really. In my senior year, a different teacher convinced me to submit some of my short stories and poetry for the creative writing competition. I don’t know how exactly she talked me into it, I think it had something to do with the fact that you’d get feedback on the work and that it was a blind judging – so they wouldn’t know who I was. It didn’t occur to me that after they finished judging, they’d have to place the names with the winners. Or maybe it didn’t occur to me that I’d win anything. Really, I just liked the idea of my stories being read. I liked the idea that someone else might get lost in the world I put on paper, might get the same kind of jolt out of the flow of a phrase that I got out of all of the books I read.

Lucky for me, my art teacher couldn’t contain her excitement and she let slip that they were announcing the winners the next day. She didn’t tell me I’d won anything. She didn’t have to. It was all over her face. I ditched school the next day.

A few of the teachers were a little disappointed in me, I know. I just couldn’t do it, though. The thought of my name over the loudspeaker, and pictures and all that... It turned out that I’d placed in all three categories and took the overall prize. I couldn’t have done that. My name over the loudspeaker four times, oodles of praise, egads, I still cringe. I wish I could have explained it better at the time, apologized for missing the big hoopla they planned – maybe I should’ve tried writing it down.

I’m a little more mature now. I wouldn’t ditch out at the thought of accepting accolades, though I’d probably turn red. But it’s still mostly about the story. Not about being a writer, but the act of writing. And the publishing, the goal for me isn’t about anything except being read. It’s why I’m still pursuing traditional publishing instead of any other means. I could write for myself and never show it to a soul, but then it’s incomplete and wasted. I want it read. I want other people to get something out of the worlds I’ve created. There’s the ego, I guess.

How about you guys? Is it nature or nurture that made you a writer? And what’s the motivation? Is it about seeing your name on a book cover, or garnering great advances? Is your writing solely for you, or do you prefer to share it? And when did you know it was the path you needed to follow?

You Can't Go Home Again

2009-08-17T23:24:00.002-05:00

A long time ago, some blog friends and I talked about synchronicity - a fancy way of saying we were all thinking about some of the same themes and philosophies at the same time. I often notice that life throws these ideas and themes at me repeatedly... or maybe it’s that they were always there and I only noticed them once they’d come to the forefront of my own thoughts. Kind of like when you buy a new car and suddenly notice the same make and model and color car everywhere.

Synchronicity is why I roll my eyes when new writers (or really paranoid writers) worry over someone stealing their ideas. I can’t post my pitch on a public forum! My ideas are brilliant and some hack with better connections will steal them and sell them before I can!

Most of you are writers, so I’m not even going to go into why this is ridiculous. But ideas, ideas are a dime a dozen. They’re in the air, floating with dandelion fluff, laying dormant in gutters and sprouting from trees. There is nothing new out there. The trick is finding the themes and ideas that speak to you and building your story there, on that foundation. I know, when you’re in a rut and everything seems like drivel, ideas don’t seem nearly so easy to come by. But they are. They always are – what you’re fretting over, really, is the execution.

So I’ve been fiddling with this WIP for quite a while. It was going well, really well... and then, not so much. And the wall I hit was so tall and solid, I couldn’t find a ladder high enough to climb over... so I tried walking around it. But every time I neared the corner, out popped another two miles of bricks and mortar. So I sat down. I rested. I thought. I played pinners off the flippin’ thing. Nothing. So I started over from the beginning – no red pen or spell check, just reading.

There was some really good writing in there - some poetry and word play and lovely imagery... so much so that it eclipsed the story. Fucking egomaniacal writers and their longwinded twaddle!

So I tossed it. I did. Did you cringe? I probably cringed enough for all of us. I tossed it, I checked my ego at the door, and I started from page one... a brand new page one. And it’s better. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was trying to do with this story when I started, so what I really did was waste a lot of time and words – really pretty words that no one will ever read intertwined in quite that way... but then again, had I kept those words, no one would ever really get the story.

A few days ago, I happened to be driving through my old neighborhood. (Stick with me here, I’ll get back to the point, I promise). I was only a few blocks from the house I grew up in, so I took a little detour, just to see the place. I haven’t been back to my own house for a very very long time... Did you notice the wording there? ...my own house - I caught it after I typed it, but I’ll leave it here, because it’s truer than the correction. The house looks terrible. Even driving down the block was odd. The streets seemed so much smaller than in my memory... the houses so close together... and my house, well, it’s seen better days.

And to be honest, perfectly honest, the neighborhood itself isn’t that much different. The same bricks and pavement... the trees might be a little taller, where there are trees. Most of the same buildings are there, different bushes or flowers in front – or none at all... shabbier here and there, but there was some shabby when I still lived there... that’s not it, though. In my head, it’s my neighborhood. It’s still there – the neighbors that all knew my name, the kids playing ball on the corner or running bases... skeeching and snowball fights and a million other things that I can think of... In my head it’s still there. In reality, it’s somebody else’s neighborhood now. Somebody else’s memories and place, and I don’t belong to them. The buildings exist, but the place isn’t mine. Except in my head.

And I really didn’t have any plans to go by my old house. It was a spur of the moment thing. I’ve been within a mile of it more times than I could count over the last decade or more, and never drove by. But I needed to see it – for what it is now and what it was then. It’s where my difficult work in progress is set, and I suddenly realized why. Why it was so important to me to set it there, in that neighborhood. Why it was so important to develop these characters who didn’t really live down the block from me, but could have. Why it was so important to me that, if anyone from the neighborhood reads my novel, the first thing they think is, “Yeah, that’s it. That’s home.”

Synchronicity. And no, you can’t go home again, except in your head... my real objective now is to see if I can take you with me.

How about you guys? Does synchronicity pop into your novel ideas or your life? Where do you want to take us with your writing?

The Ultimate Swear Word

2009-08-10T12:03:00.001-05:00

About a year or so ago, my littlest guy came running up to me and snitched out his friend.

Littlest guy: He said a bad word.

Me: What word did he say?

Littlest guy: The “C” word.

That thud you just heard was my heart dropping to the floor at the same time my blood pressure went through the roof... not an easy feat, I assure you. I mean, I swear like a truck driver... and that’s actually defamatory to truck drivers, most of them would blush at my more heated tirades... but my kids haven’t heard that word from me. So, I asked the only question I could think of, before hyperventilating.

Me: What “C” word?

Littlest guy’s eyes widened. He stifled a giggle at the thought of being able to curse without getting punished and his voice came out in a whooping whisper – if you can imagine such a thing.

Littlest guy: Crap.

Relief was so quick and so sure that I wasn’t thinking. I let out a huge sigh and said:

“Oh, well, that’s okay then...”

Unfortunately, my daughter was in the room for this little slip in sanity...

Daughter: Wait a second... what “C” word were you thinking of?

Now, like I said, this happened some time ago. I thought the whole discussion was buried and forgotten. We were driving home from the pool and my kids were having some sort of a conversation in the back of the van. Honestly, I wasn’t paying that much attention. I was busy working out the details of a scene in my mind... on my more lenient days, I call this multitasking, but honestly it’s bad parenting... well, not bad as in totally neglectful, but I do spend an inordinate amount of time in my head, even when I’m physically present... the end of the conversation, however, jolted me right back to reality.

Oldest son: I’m going to find out what it is. I have to know (add dramatic movie voice) The Ultimate Swear Word.

Daughter: I don’t know what it is, but I know it starts with a “C”.

Oldest Son: When did mom say we were allowed to know what the word is?

Daughter: (Rolling her eyes) She said, when we’re forty.

Littlest Guy: Forty!!! When we’re forty? That’s a trick – she’ll be dead by then.

So, one might ask, what’s the point of this post? Nothing really, I just thought it was funny. Oh, and I’m back... How’s your summer going? Updates anyone?

I'm Not Here

2009-06-08T10:26:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure when I'll be back. I'll still stop in to visit your blogs when I get a chance - maybe still participate in a few things. Most of you already know how to reach me, if there's any great news in the bloggy-sphere or if you just want to touch base.

Without going into too much detail, I've hit the wall. Something had to give, and this has turned out to be it. I don't know yet if I'm joining the ranks of those who've given up blogging altogether, or if I'm just taking a break. But there are a number of things I have to accomplish before I can devote time here.

Blogging has been a great place for me, to learn and connect, and grow as a writer. Now it's time to use all of those things.

Take care. Be good, unless it doesn't suit you... I'll be writing.

Throw Down! I Double Dare You

2009-06-03T15:48:00.002-05:00

Forever and two years ago, I reviewed The Daring Book for Girls. And I looooved it, for those of you who don’t want to go traipsing through the old post.

Now they’re out with a brand new book, The Double Daring Book for Girls. Also a hoot, but if you want another book review, you’re not getting it here. If you’d like to learn more about the books, check out the daring book for girls website.

Instead, I’d like to challenge you to do one of the activities. Of course, the minute I got my hot little hands on my copy from the publisher, my daughter had her brothers create a diversion and she promptly stole said copy. (She’s getting to be quite the little book thief and I couldn’t be prouder).

She went right to work, and made the snow globe below from instructions on page 149:

For Gracie’s snow globe, she cleaned out a jelly jar, removing all of the label from outside. Then she drew a snowman, and snow scene on a piece of paper and taped it so it could be viewed from the front of her globe through the glass. She filled the jar with water and added sequins for her ‘snow’. Of course, she read the directions but then created her own take on the project.

So what do you think? Can you do better than an eleven year old?

If you’d like to follow the actual instructions: Find any fun doodad to glue to the inside of the jar lid – a plastic statue or toy works well. Instead of sequins, you can use glitter for your snow, and you may or may not like to create your own backdrop to apply to the back of the jar, that can be seen through your snow scene.

Make sure to glue the lid on tightly and leave to dry before shaking.

If any of you already own the book, I’d love to hear about the projects you’ve created. And if you’d like to do your own snow globe, or make one with your kids, post your creation on your blog so I can come take a look.

Now to find another challenge to kick off my kids’ summer. On page 201, there are instructions on “How to paint a room” hmmmm.... I wonder if they’d fall for that!

Introducing Magickeepers - an interview with Erica Kirov

2009-05-28T02:50:00.002-05:00

Besides having one of the coolest covers I’ve ever seen, Magickeepers: The Eternal Hourglass can also boast a fantastic story. Nick’s a kid we all might know – one who slacks a little here and there and is looking forward to a summer filled with nothing but junk food, sleeping in, and skateboarding.

Instead, he’s whisked away to live with relatives he didn’t know he had who perform the most successful magic act in Vegas – and Nick will be on stage with them, except the magic will be more than an act. The story itself is fun and fast paced, with enough twists and turns to keep readers guessing. The characters are people you’d love to get to know in real life, including some names in history you may have heard tales of already – like Houdini and Rasputin.

I want to thank Erica Kirov, for taking the time to allow us to interview her, and for volunteering to stop in at the comments to talk with all of our readers. Feel free to ask any questions you’d like about the book, or about writing and publishing in general.

To find out more about the books, stop by the Magickeepers Website or visit Erica’s Magickeeper’s blog, which are also moderated and kid-friendly.

My eleven year old daughter, Gracie, wanted to ask some of the questions, so I’ll turn it over to her to start us out:

Grace: Were you always interested in magicians or was it something new to you for the story?

Erica: I actually LOVE magic acts, and I am always trying to figure out the tricks. (Not very successfully, I might add. I can never figure them out!) So then I had an idea for a book--and like nearly every book idea it started with two words: What if? What if magic was real?

Grace: How did you get the inspiration to write the book?

Erica: Once I had my "what if" question, I let that sort of rest inside me for a bit. Then little by little a world where magicians had to hide their true identities emerged. And then I came up with the idea of a diaspora (a big SAT word meaning when a people scatter) out of ancient Egypt of magicians to places all over the world. And my clan--the Russians--came to me. My father's family is Russian, so that part was kind of easy to come up with.

Grace: If you were Nick Rostov, would you have done anything different? Are you like the main character and what ways are you alike or different?

Erica: That is a really good question. I don't know that I would have been as brave as Nick or have come up with the ending (don't want to spoil it for anyone). I actually am very different from Nick in that I LOVED school and like to read and study--and he obviously doesn't. But he is VERY patient with the Grand Duchess, and I am like that with older people. I love that they have these wonderful stories they can pass along to the next generation. And I also remember not liking the food my grandmother cooked--so I would be like him there. Russian food is definitely an acquired taste. And I guess finally that he gets frustrated easily . . . that is me through and through.

Grace: When you turned the book in to your publisher, did they ask you to change things - and what kind of things do you have to change?

Erica: You will be very surprised, perhaps, to hear the book originally was ONLY about a girl. But before I officially started it, my editor asked if I would make it about a boy. We compromised . . . and so we have Nick and Isabella. They each have gifts unique to them--Nick cannot control animals ever. Once I turned the entire book in, I was asked to add more history (my editor LOVES that part of the story). And the ending changed a lot--my editor wanted more danger!

And now, for some questions of my own:

Merry: This is your first middle grade novel - did you decide you'd like to write to that age bracket and then the idea for the story came to you - or did the idea for the story come first and it was a perfect fit for middle grade?

Erica: I actually wanted to write a middle grade book. I have four children . . . one is a grown-up already (well, she's 19, and I consider her a grown-up). One is 14, one is 11, and my little guy is a VERY mischievous 4 year old. And pretty much, though I have been a novelist for years, it was always very separate from them. A book would come out, and they would sort of shrug or say "Congratulations." But since the books were adult novels, they didn't get to read them and didn't feel part of my writing world. This has been something we got to do together--especially the 14- and 11-year-old. So I did want to write one and I had a couple of ideas, but none felt right. And then out of the blue, I got my "what if magic was real" idea . . . and it grew from there.

Merry: Russian history and heritage is a large part of the story of Magickeepers - did your own Russian heritage play a role in your life and did some of your own traditions make it into the novel?

Erica: My mother's side of the family is Slavic, and actually, they have more traditions. My father's side is very small--but it is a very small family since so many of them were murdered during the Russian Revolution. Very few survived. So that history was always a part of my life, knowing that they experienced this very dark tragedy and it colored the survivors’ lives.

Merry: This is the first series you've created - did you approach the plotting or writing of this novel differently than you have approached your previously published stand alone novels? In what ways does writing a series differ from writing a single title?

Erica: For me, it was like night and day and a LOT harder. I had to have a very clear idea of the battle between the Shadowkeepers and Magickeepers over many years of the story. I had to see well ahead at least two books . . . I had to hold some secrets back. And now that I am in the middle of the second one, I can say that I have to make sure there's enough background for people who didn't read the first--without boring those who DID read the first. A very tricky thing. What I have done differently, too, is create a story bible, so I can keep things straight over a period of years (this first book was a three-year-process, just about). And now I am in the middle of creating a historical timeline because matching historical dates to make sure characters could really have met each other in time has been super difficult.

Okay, guys, it’s your turn. What questions or comments would you like to add?

Author Interview on May 28th- The Amazing Erica Kirov

2009-05-22T23:02:00.003-05:00

I am beyond excited to announce that on Thursday, May 28th, I’ll be interviewing the very awesome Erica Kirov on my blog, and you’re all invited!!!

Erica is multi-published, under several pen names (my regular blog readers already know most of them, I’m sure), and on the 28th we’ll be discussing her latest release – the first in her middle grade series:

Magickeepers: The Eternal Hourglass

Erica will be hanging around in the comments section, and the entire discussion will be moderated and kid-friendly. It’s a great opportunity to learn about a fabulous new novel and talk with the author.

If you’re a reader or writer, a fan of middle grade or a parent who might like to introduce their kids to the author – I’d love to see you there.

About the Book:

From the back cover: The one and only Harry Houdini was killed for it, the most powerful magicians have battled for centuries to retrieve it, and even the Ancient Pharaohs feared its power.... What would you do for an hourglass that stopped time?

If you’re not intrigued yet... wait until you meet Nick Rostov.

About comment moderation :

There will be a slight delay between when you leave your comment and when I get it posted. I’ll stop in frequently to make sure there’s not too much lag time...

My blogs are pretty pg to begin with, but I want to welcome any and all young readers to comment, and I want to make sure that they don’t accidentally post too much information in an online forum. So, for you parents out there, your child is safe to participate and I won’t let any full names, towns, schools, etc go up in comments... They can ask any questions they’d like about the book or writing, though.

Of course, I’d also love to welcome all writers, and adult readers who enjoy a good middle grade novel.

To learn more about the books and author, the website is : Magickeepers

The book is available in all of your favorite bookstores, or to order your very own copy from the publisher:

drop by Sourcebooks

Hope to see you all there!

What Are You Worth?

2009-05-09T22:03:00.003-05:00

So, I just found an article that asks what a mother’s work is really worth. These people are pretty funny. According to them, what I do is worth six figures a year. That’s not the funny part. Any mom out there can tell you that what they do is worth more money than there is to pay. The funny part is that the only time society in general sees fit to find worth in motherhood is on a hallmark greeting card holiday.

Any other day of the year, when mingling at a social gathering with new people, the question invariably comes up – What do you do? I don’t often tell them I’m a writer. I usually tell them I’m a mother. It’s my litmus test. If their smile freezes over and they find a quick reason to talk to someone ‘more interesting’ I know they’re not worth my time. Twice it’s happened that someone else in the room outed me as a writer and they came back, thinking I’d have something more interesting to say. I do – just not to them...

The thing is, I don’t need someone I just met to validate my worth. I don’t need an article with a built in calculator to give me a monetary figure that’s supposed to boost my esteem. But then, I don’t define success and money interchangeably. My bank account doesn’t tell you any of the important things. It can’t give a history of the time I’ve spent teaching my own kids, or other peoples’ kids. It can’t tell you how many times I’ve been late, but still let someone into my lane in traffic, or how many times I’ve put in my own time without pay, to help someone else out or further a cause. I don’t even keep track of those things, and they’re certainly not measured in dollars.

My kids are the best indication of my worth:

They are better, faster, stronger, funnier, more compassionate, and infinitely more important than any work I have or will create. My characters are important to me, and I hope that they will find the world and the reader and speak to them – but my writing, no matter how far I take it, will never be my greatest accomplishment... The best things I’ve ever been a part of, I owe more thanks to than I can take credit for.

And my Mother’s Day gifts:

The flowers are from my daughter. She hand-painted the pot and arranged the flowers herself. The frames are from my boys – oldest painted the blue and green one and littlest guy painted the red one. I’m hunting for pictures so I can put them out for tomorrow.

How are you spending your mother’s day? Did you give your mom a call yet? Did your kids delight you with something special? (And for the dads, did you do something for the Mrs?) And moms out there – how do you define your worth?

Playing Ball

2009-05-01T23:00:00.000-05:00

I’m almost reticent to admit this in public, but I’m not one of those parents that agree with the whole ideal that children’s sports should be non-competitive. Everybody wins, everyone gets a trophy, and everyone feels good. Nope, I think you learn by working with your team really hard, and trying your best... and then when you win it means something and you also learn that there are worse things than losing. I know, I suck.

And it’s not that I want to see kids feeling bad. I have kids. It rips my heart out when they get thrown out at a base or can’t hit the ball, especially when they get upset enough to cry over it. Here’s the thing, those little lessons and disappointments in childhood help strengthen us for the bigger ones down the road. We learn to cope by experience – we learn more than that, but I’m simplifying for the moment.

Littlest guy plays baseball. This is his third year playing and he was really looking forward to it. He loved tee-ball and the league he was in last year, and when it came time to get him new cleats and a big guy mitt... well, man, he was pumped. My older son plays football, and all fall the football dads were asking littlest guy if he’d be playing football next year. He always said, “Nope. I play baseball!” That’s his game, the one he likes and the one he picked.

Well, this year it’s kid pitch. Slightly different from last year, where the coach lobbed meatballs over the plate, and if you couldn’t hit one of those, they let you hit off a tee. This year, there’s another seven year old on the pitching mound, and he may just be seven but he’s throwing as hard as he can... and seven year olds don’t always have good aim.

Littlest guy got beaned his first time up. I know, I gasped, too. He wasn’t really hurt just startled... but startled turned into scared. For the next two practices and one game, he was so afraid of getting hit again that he struck out every he was up – and every time he struck out he was so upset that he cried. His dad took him out to the backyard and taught him how to jump out of the way using wiffle balls, so he wasn’t afraid of the drill... but still, for those first two weeks, he didn’t like baseball so much anymore. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like the sport. It was that he didn’t like striking out. It was the failure, not the game.

We talked about it before his next practice, and I told him I didn’t care if he got a hit or not as long as he did his best. But I also told him not to think about the parts he doesn’t like, think instead about the parts he does... He likes fielding – he loves playing any of the base positions and he likes catching and knowing which base to throw the ball to.

So what happened? As he explained to anyone in ear-shot, “I caught not one but four balls! In the air! Without them even touching the ground!”

I love the way he explains it.... in the same tone he might use to say he saved twelve people from a runaway train. But suddenly he was having fun... and of course, in his next game, he got a hit.

You should have seen him. He got to first base, realized he was safe, and jumped up and down on the base, clapping his hands like mad. Then, after about three minutes of cheering for himself, he found me in the stands, yelled “Mom!!!!” and gave me two thumbs up.

That one hit was enough to get him over the fear... it’s fun again.

So this brings me to writing, because I think underneath, we’re not so different from our seven year old selves. Writing means striking out a hell of a lot. But I think for me, I’ve been concentrating on the fielding – okay, enough baseball metaphors. I’ve been working on the end of things I can control – the writing. Playing with my voice and the way I use it. Working on a new wip and working with a few beta readers... well, a lot of things, but it’s the stuff I enjoy as much as it is the stuff I’m improving. For me, the hard part is the query letters and rejections. It hasn’t made me cry yet, but it has made me take a long break from submissions. Because I’m still writing, it doesn’t feel so much like caving... but let’s get real here, if I’m not submitting, all that writing doesn’t amount to a hell of a lot, does it?

How about you guys? How do you get over the parts that are hard and keep pushing?

Lots of News and Many Happy Dances

2009-04-28T09:33:00.000-05:00

First of all, drop by Ello’s to win an autographed copy of Cindy Pon’s new Silver Phoenix! I’ve been on pins and needles to read this one ever since Cindy first landed her deal – it looks absolutely amazing!

Second, Erica Orloff’s first novel in the new Magickeepers series is due to hit shelves this Friday! (Pssst, it’s under the name Erica Kirov, but it’s the same amazing writing, this time aimed at middle grade)... I’m dying, dying I say, to get my hot little hands on this book. Erica’s very accessible to both readers and writers on their way up – so if you’re interested in doing a book review or author interview, stop over at her blog or drop her a line via email.

Side note to Jaye Wells, Erica and Cindy – your books are all on my must have list, but they have to wait until I get a few more paychecks in... Sorry about that. If the kids didn’t mind, I’d certainly read by candlelight – but they enjoy the electric.

Last, but definitely not least –

Stephen Parrish just announced his book deal!!!!

I so wish I knew how to do big, bold sparkly letters that jumped off the computer screen, slapped the reader in the face, and spit raspberries at them. Not for any particular reason, it just sounds like fun.

Go over to Stephen’s and congratulate him. It’s an order. While you’re there, you can read about horseback riding and balls – it’s Stephen, you should expect such things.

Motherhood Meme - Five things...

2009-04-17T16:22:00.001-05:00

Mary Witzl, our own Resident Alien, tagged me with a meme to list five things I love about being a mom... Wow, won’t that test my editing skills – ONLY FIVE?!!!

It might be easier, and more fun to list things that suck about being a mom. You’re allowed to be funnier that way. Like, who among you mothers out there can’t lament the sad state of spit-up stained sweat shirts replacing all your single girl clothes... or previously perky breasts becoming food dispensers rather than date bait? Hmmm, perhaps I’m cynical today... okay, onto the things I love:

I love snuggles for no apparent reason... or even a plotting-to-get-my-way reason. I’m fully aware that my time of being snuggle-worthy is limited. At some point in the not too distant future, snuggling their mother will just be weird. And I’ll miss it. A lot. This morning my littlest guy, who is only in first grade, got out of our van and lifted his little cheek for the mandatory kiss before running off toward his class line. I did my little hop-step toward the other side of the car and turned around like I always do to watch him bounce toward school – and what to my wondering eyes did appear? The little guy was wiping my kiss off his cheek and rolling his eyes with one of his friends. Ack. Knife. In the heart. It’s okay - it is. I remember wanting to distance myself from my mom. I remember not wanting to look like a baby in front of my friends... but I’m pretty sure I was a bit older than six.

I love that each of my kids is their own person – and I love each one of them for who they are. It’s funny, but when you think about having kids in an abstract way, (you know, before the spit up and actual work-a-day world of raising them) you don’t fully realize that you have no control over who they’ll be. None of my kids are exactly like me or anyone else really. Sure, I can see bits and pieces, things I know they got from here or there, but they are their own. Their wit and charm and cunning and chutzpah – that’s all theirs. I’d love to take credit, but I can’t – so I’m content to bask in the glow of their awesomeness.

I love who I am through their eyes. This is something no one prepares you for in parenthood. I am the mommy. Before becoming a mother, I didn’t know how much the title ‘Mom’ would define me. Pluses and drawbacks to be sure. I kind of miss thinking of myself as sexy or salty or a bevy of other things I once was – and still am when I’m not overwhelmed with Mom Mode. But those things don’t compare to the me I am in my kids’ eyes. My kids look at me in a way that makes me want to be that person – the bravest, safest, smartest, surest, best at all things imaginable, person. I’m not quite as cool as they think I am. Like the snuggling, my reign of coolness for them has an expiration date, too, I imagine. But, they make me want to be that. They make me strive to be better than I ever thought I could or even wanted to be just for me.

I love that they’ve completed my circle. They’ve taught me the other side of unconditional love – I learned what it is to be loved without condition or question from my own parents. But to be honest, I didn’t fully understand the giving of unconditional love before my own kids. To be clear, there are a few people who I do love without condition (it’s a rarity, it is) but there are a few who, no matter what they do or where they go or what kind of disagreement we have, I’ll have their back if it means standing in front of a train. No question. My side has been picked since day one. But with my kids, it’s different still. Because they belong to me in a way that no one else can – in the way that I belonged to mine... they complete that circle for me and I hope to be a good marker for them of what it is to love someone, without question or condition.

I love that they tickle me daily with their little peculiarities, views of the world, and funny comments (whether they’re trying to be funny or not). I love that they are my biggest cheering section for things small and large and that they are each others’ biggest cheering section. They are friends, good friends – and they understand something that’s hard to explain, that bond between siblings. They have that in spades... so I know, no matter what happens through the course of their lives, they’ll have each other.

Okay, I’m passing this on to five people. Don’t feel obligated to continue it, but if you have some time, I’d love to see five things from Ello, Erica, Stacey, Jerseygirl, and Julie.

Small Update in Blogging

2009-04-07T17:41:00.002-05:00

I blogged a while ago about my new job at The Big Ooga. I wanted to update you guys a bit as I go. My blogging time here has been sporadic since, well, since I started blogging... but NOW you can definitely find me every Friday!!! (Yes, I can hear the squeals of joy!)

Seriously, I'll be blogging at The Big Ooga Blog every Friday and I hope you guys can stop in here and there to say hello and check out the posts. Our regular schedule is Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Stop in if you can. I'd love to see you there.

This week's a good one - we're talking about the 60's anti-establishment movement and how revolutionary vision influences small businesses and marketing.

Is There a Support Group for People Who Have a Book Buying Problem?

2009-04-04T12:26:00.001-05:00

If you haven’t heard of the Fill in The Gaps project yet, here’s the basic gist:

Our beloved Moonie first posted the idea, which she stole from someone else at her place... If you want to read her list and rules, it’s on her project fill in the gaps post.

Basically, each participant comes up with a list of 100 books that they haven’t yet read. Your criteria might be using classics you’ve always wanted to get to... or your own ‘to be read’ pile along with some recommendations by others. We’re giving ourselves a five year deadline (a little more, really) – New Year’s 2015. That’s only 20 books a year. This way, we actually read all those books we’ve been meaning to read, simply by fitting them in between our regular reading - filling in the gaps.

The awesome Emily Cross took up the cause and put together a blog for those of us participating - Filling in the Gaps – The 100 Project. If you’re interested in making your own list, Emily’s information is up at the blog, you can email her to get an invite to join us (insert evil, mwa-ha-ha).

My list can be found here... and all of the participants’ lists can be found by clicking on their names in the right hand sidebar.

When Moonie first posted about this, I thought, “Easy cheesy – I’ve got a ton of books lying around that I’ve always meant to get to...” Okay, seriously, out of the 100, I own well more than half of them. They’re in stacks, and double stacked on bookshelves, and in boxes and closets... and... I could go on.

I started by checking out my friends’ lists at Goodreads and marking ‘to read’ all the ones that I noticed on their lists that I’ve heard about or wanted to read and never got to... then I expanded my list to include classics I knew I wanted to read that hadn’t made it onto their lists yet and books just out or soon to be released by writers I know. Then I went, from the stacks in my living room, tv room, and bedroom... and even my daughter’s bedroom (because yes, I will steal books from my children... can you say addict?) Finally, I ended my journey, at two in the morning, in my crawlspace. I have three large boxes of books down there... or that’s what I thought.

See, I only have so much book space and my insane need to own all interesting looking books I wander across surpassed my allotted space for them years ago. It’s one reason I’ve been trying desperately to stay out of book stores. I can’t buy just what I came in for. It’s not possible. It’s like sending an alcoholic into an open bar and telling him to drink water, it doesn’t work.

So I started putting books that, either I-don’t-want-to-part-with-because-I-liked-them-so-much-but-there’s-no-shelf-space-for-them, and ones I haven’t read yet but will eventually into boxes in the crawlspace. I meander through these boxes and pull out a gem a few times a year. Then those books wind up in my stacks until my husband forces me to re-box or donate some of them. All the while I’m magically accumulating more books – hey, some of them were used.

So, what did I find down in the crawlspace? A fourth box. I didn’t pack that box. I didn’t even know about that box. What was in that box? Every single flippin book was brand new and the spine hadn’t even been cracked (not brand new, I bought them brand new, judging by the fact that my just released copy of Sushi for Beginners was in there – which I still haven’t read- that box was packed and hidden at least five years ago) I know what happened. Husband type person went all willy nilly and packed up every book in his way one day figuring I had so many of them I’d never even notice. And look how much money I waste on things I don’t need... Okay, technically he was right. I’m sure I looked around for some of those books, but I didn’t know he’d hidden a whole flippin box of them... so yeah, technically he was right.... prick.

At the finish of my list, I actually had about thirty extras I couldn’t include... which just gives me something to fill in the gaps in between the gap books. How about you guys? Care to find an outlet for your book buying addiction?

Research, References, and the Power of the Internet

2009-03-30T16:59:00.002-05:00

There are a few great things about being able to connect online, not the least of which is the vast amount of information in one easy click. Lately, I’ve been dividing my writing time between working on the WIP and researching for future submissions. That can take you to a lot of different places online, but for me, most sources are only the beginning. It’s like back when you had to write research papers and at the end you’d list your bibliography. Well, taking any one webpage at gospel would be like listening to the person who wrote the term paper over researching their sources... the sources are more accurate and the paper writer, if they’re doing their job, used that information as a springboard toward their own summations.

I check the stats on my blog every few days, maybe once a week. I like to see who’s checking my posts and where they’re coming from every once in a while. There are spurts here and there of various searches, but the ones that pop up at a pretty regular clip are my book club blogs on The Mists of Avalon. Other book reviews get regular hits, too, but the book club blogs on Mists get long and lengthy visits – always from University or College computers. I have a sneaking suspicion that there are some college students out there using my blog as a reference. Those discussions were pretty detailed. There were a number of them and the comment section in each was full of thoughtful insight by all of the participants. It’s possible that they’re reading them to get ideas for different aspects of the book to write about – I hope they’re not plagiarizing whole hog... in fact, I thought about pulling the posts just in case. I’m guessing they’re smart enough to know that their instructors have access to the same internet and might’ve stumbled across the same blog at some point.

But, thinking about it this way, how do those college students know that I even have any concept of what I’m talking about?

Over the course of dealing with people online, you get to know some whose opinions and thoughts you trust. They usually have some credentials to lead you to that opinion, or you’ve followed them for long enough that their perspective holds weight. I follow a number of blogs where I don’t even know the real name of the author. But I trust them because their knowledge has panned out and resonated – it can also be checked.

Some of the resources I like to use when digging into agent research or even formatting / grammar issues are the writer boards. There are a few good ones; I’m not going to point them out here because most of you already know about them. They can be a font of great information, if you’re careful.

I’ve had people correct the formatting on my ms before. Either format would have been correct, depending on who you were querying (I’d seen some editors who preferred one while some preferred the other – that’s a case where you double check who you’re querying first, and if there’s no indication, go with the ancient standard... mine was the ancient standard). I indicated as much in my response and they proved their assertion by pointing me to a popular and well-respected writing board... okay, the board might be well respected but the quote was by some writer who participates on the board who didn’t have any identifying characteristics and not very many posts to follow... there was no reason for me to take his/her word on it – I didn’t even know who the writer was... Just because the board is reputable doesn’t mean all of the active members know what they’re talking about.

A nifty little benefit to those in query hell is the ability to check the agents’ response time at various places. But then, too, that can be a distraction more than anything. If a lot of other writers post about a quick response time from an agent, but you’re not getting a response, that can make you do something stupid – like submit two days later instead of waiting.

While I check these things regularly when I’m researching, I’ve learned to take them with a grain of salt. Some of the posters are more expert than others – some are just kind of catty.

How about you guys? What’s your litmus test for researching online? What’s the best advantage for you? What’s the biggest peeve?

Gotta Have A POV....

2009-03-24T15:15:00.000-05:00

I like character driven fiction. I think almost every reader will say much the same – and most writers will say they write character driven fiction. This isn’t the same thing as saying there’s no story. There’s always a story, but a really good novel, the one you can’t put down and sticks with you for decades, those have fully realized characters.

Erica Orloff recently blogged about getting rid of a character. In her case, the character was fully fleshed out, too fleshed out for the story at hand. Sometimes that happens. We know all of our characters, inside and out. But the reader doesn’t need to know all of these things. And sometimes they just detract from the story, because their own story starts to take away from the movement.

One of the things that struck me in writing my middle grade was that having a firm grasp on the different characters wasn’t enough. I also had to have a firm grasp on who they were to my POV character. They say there are three sides to every story – yours, mine, and the truth. Well, the writer knows the truth. We know each character’s motivation, background, exactly what, where, and when... But our characters, if we’re honest with them, can’t possibly be privy to all of that.

My POV character is eleven. I found the biggest challenge in honestly portraying his mother. His mother is around my age, and I get her on a deeper level than he possibly could, because I’m not restricted by her title – MOM. But I had to keep that title in mind while I was writing the novel. The reader had to get her through my mc’s filter. She’s a newly single woman in her mid thirties. In another novel, she might easily be the heroine or love interest. But not in this one. I’m in my thirties now and I still can’t think of my parents as sexual beings... obviously they are or I wouldn’t be keying this in right now... but it would be off the mark to have that aspect of the character portrayed in this telling.

How does the point of view in your novel color your characters? Have you ever read a book where characters stepped outside of the pov filter? Did it work for you or did it ring wrong?

Battling Meh

2009-03-22T14:20:00.001-05:00

We talk a lot about making our writing sparkle, different, unique. We talk a lot about finding that pure voice, the one that’s ours. And there are many variables that can make writing, ‘meh’. Meh – it’s serviceable. It’s technically proficient. But it doesn’t resonate.

A lot of us writerly types, myself included, advocate working with critique groups. I’ve run the gamut from sending out to crit partners and beta readers privately to posting excerpts and query letters publicly – both here and at other boards and blogs. I’ve heard people argue about doing this, some of which is laughable and some of which has a point. I can’t just take every rewrite suggestion, input it into my work, and voila – fixed. I think some people do just that. You have to think it through though and try to figure out 1) if the suggestion is subjective and doesn’t fit with your vision 2) if it is the work that’s off, how do you fix it? A lot of critters will tell you exactly how to fix it, but keep in mind, what works for them might not work for you. The point to me is not to work by committee but to get a completely outside opinion of something that I can’t possibly see clearly. Let me tell you, there are a number of things I’d never have noticed if I hadn’t spent so much time critting and being critted. Critting others, by the way, has taught me more than actually offering up my own stuff.

But Meh, as I stated earlier, is more than technical proficiency. Critting helps with that, but it can’t give you the X factor. Sometimes it’s purely subjective.

I just read a book that made me cry three different times during the course of the reading. That’s not usual for me. That’s not even usual for me in real life. X factor. There are parts of that novel that just roped me so far in I could feel it. X factor. BUT, big but here, one of the main story lines bugs the living hell out of me.... meh. Someone please tell me why, when it’s a novel about two women or four women or whatever, it’s always the character who gets married and has a family and is giving to everyone else and not at all self or career oriented... she’s always the one who dies of a terminal disease... WHY? What, single professionals never get cancer?

It’s a legitimate storyline, but it bugs ME. That’s subjective. Okay, it’s also overdone, but you can have overdone if the writing is good and the writing was good in this one... but I still felt, ‘meh’.

So how about you guys? Is there a specific storyline that will always make you feel ‘meh’ regardless how well it’s written? Have you nailed down why some things fall short for you, is it a subjective thing or is it always in the writing itself? Is meh always fixable? For me, the story in question would have been much better if it was another character that gets struck down. I’m sorry; I’ve seen it too many times. Or how about if they actually survive it... doesn’t that happen occasionally too? All ME issues, not necessarily something wrong with the actual story.

When’s the last time you read something that was off for you? Did it not have the X factor? Or did the X factor just fall short of propelling you past your own subjectivity?

Happy Dances Abound!!! – Introducing The Big Ooga!

2009-03-10T13:08:00.003-05:00

So, back on my New Year’s post I mentioned that one of my resolutions, the main one, was to get back out into the workforce. I wanted not just any job, but one that I loved and a boss that would understand my commitment to my children as well... that’s kind of a tall order in any economy, and I expected many months of pounding the pavement.

Instead, it took about two months and what I found was a fit so perfect, I couldn’t have made it up any better:

The Big Ooga

I’ve come up with paragraph after paragraph, gushing about how much I love the idea of this business and the people I’ll be working with – but this excerpt from our About Page says it better than I can:

”We have created a forum where networks can network and people can create genuine alliances. We are founded on how fairly we treat each other, a collective professionalism and a generous spirit. We support the importance of local business communities and promote and partner with quality organizations. We are also dedicated to the joy of the journey, the thrill of entrepreneurship and most importantly, the success of our members.”

The great thing here is that we’re localized to Chicago, so we’re helping to build both virtual and face-to-face business relationships. But we’re also building a community that anyone can take part in. Our databases of entrepreneurs and small businesses are searchable to everyone, and each business included holds to the highest standards of professionalism.

For those of you in different parts of the country, we'll be expanding. Keep an eye on us to see when Big Ooga launches in a city near you!

My new boss, Ms. Lennie Rose:

Lennie Rose’s Blog Where you’ll find her insights on marketing, running a small business, and her dynamic personality fun and informative!!!

I know a lot of my blogging buddies are freelancers – and I hope you’ll come and look around! I’d love to see you all join in the conversation at Lennie’s Blog. It may be a good way to connect with other entrepreneurs, or just spur new ideas for your own business growth. And for my fiction writing buddies, there will be a plethora of new ideas on marketing and promotion – or you might need to find a great web designer or illustrator to get your Author’s Site up and running.

As you can tell, I’m pretty excited. Right now I’m working from home a bit, getting settled in and learning about the site and blog and our community. I’ll be working with the site itself, and I’m looking into various things. For my own blog here, I burned the feed through feedburner, and registered with technorati. I didn’t register with various bookmarking sites, but I’ll be looking into that for the blog at The Big Ooga. As always, you guys are my best resource. So if you’ve got any favorite services that have worked for your sites or blogs, let me know. Which social bookmarking sites are your favorites? Do you use an alternate service besides technorati? And if you get a second, stop over at The Big Ooga Blog and say, “Hi”...

Things My Kids Say When They Think I Can't Hear Them...

2009-03-07T10:17:00.000-06:00

I admit it – I eavesdrop. There. I said it. Sometimes I don’t mean to do it, I just have really good hearing and can’t help it... but sometimes people who aren’t really talking to me are just flippin’ interesting. There’s the tone thing – people talk to different people in their lives with varying tones in their voice. For instance, when I was in my early teens I could always tell when my older brother was talking to a girl on the phone. It drove him crazy, well, I drove him crazy... because I always knew just when to embarrass or pester him, but never did it when he was on the phone with a guy friend... why? Because his tone changed the minute it was a girl and I knew he was trying to impress someone (enter evil, grinning demon sister).

Now, I eavesdrop on my kids all the time. Not to invade their privacy, though I guess that’s a hard case to make since I just said I’m listening when they don’t know it, which is pretty much the definition of privacy invading. But to clarify, I don’t dig through my daughter’s diary, or listen in on her phone calls. I do, however, hear them talking from rooms away, and I can see around corners... that’s only because there’s a big mirror in the dining room and they totally don’t realize that I can see and hear them, because they don’t see me – I’ve given them enough hints on this already. When I correct them for saying something wrong or doing something stupid from two rooms away, they should realize that I can see and hear them. In their defense though, they’re 11, 8, and 6, so lucky me, they just think Mommy’s Magic... the eleven year old is convinced I have the place bugged.

But the conversations they have when I’m not in the room crack me up so much, sometimes, I just hope they never totally figure it out. I’d miss this part of their relationship. The non-mom included part.

(Oldest Daughter walks into the kitchen. She’s wearing an oversized tee shirt, raggedy sweat pants and her hair is in the same ponytail she slept in... She’s still sick with a nasty case of strep throat that’s felled my whole family this week... which, by the way, littlest guy was the first one to get and therefore the first one to feel better. Littlest Guy is sitting at the table)

Littlest Guy: Wow! You look disgusting.

Daughter: Thaaanks! Girls just love to hear things like that.

(She sits at table across from littlest terror and he eyes her up and down... just staring)

Daughter: What?

(He smiles, his big, missing front tooth smile)

Littlest Guy: You’re a fan of Hello Kitty.... Hello Kitty is for babies and you’re a fan...

Daughter: I am not, what are you talking about?

Littlest Guy: See! Hello Kitty! (He points to the tiny pink band-aide on his sister’s finger)
Daughter: Ouch! Hey! (pulling back wounded finger) I’m not a fan, I was bleeding. It was a medical emergency.... What did you want me to do, all we had was hello kitty, should I bleed all over the place?

Littlest Guy: You could’ve used tape.

Daughter: Grrrr.... I’m sick... and cranky... and you’re the one who made me sick in the first place!

(I couldn’t see his face, but I’m convinced he grinned even wider – the classic is, the first two days littlest guy was sick, she doted on him and snuggled him and brought him juice)

Daughter: I’m telling mom you’re bothering me.

Littlest Guy: (Jumping up and standing in front of her) No you’re not...

Daughter: Don’t start that.... sigh... I’m not looking at you... I’m not looking at you... your cuteness is eeeeevil.... I’m not looking at you....

Littlest Guy: (whispers) But, see, I’m doing the puppy dog eyes... see? (with the little high pitched lilt he uses special, for conning, cajoling, and generally getting his way)

As no one ever told mom, I’m guessing points go to Littlest Guy on that one. Anyone want to lay odds on how long it’ll take before the eleven year old loses her temper and cracks him? So far, she lets him get away with pretty much anything, because, as she says often “His cuteness is EEEEEVIL” He is much cuter than I was and my brother never killed me.

How ‘bout you guys? Are you eavesdroppers? Ever notice the different tones people use for the people in their lives. Ever like to be that fly on the wall?

Industry Lingo Explained

2009-03-03T00:29:00.002-06:00

In my last post, we discussed support among writers – a great thing, all around. In fact, it’s my favorite thing about being a writer. Sure there are all kinds of writers, but I’ve seen an awful lot of people in the publishing industry reach out to help others up the rungs, with everything from recommendations, to advice, to real support. One of the reasons that we’re so supportive is likely because the rest of the world, the nooooormal people (yes, you have to say it with a whiney ‘o’ sound, otherwise it’s not snarky enough), yeah, well, they don’t get it.

So here is my small attempt to educate the non-writers out there... and amuse the rest of us.

Industry lingo explained:

WIP: Work In Progress, otherwise known as, “I’m writing, I swear! No, I’m absolutely not puttering around the internet wasting time...”

Revisions: A manic period of writerly improvement where one wavers back and forth between adoration at the brilliance of their novel and wondering how the hell they managed to spew such drivel... usually broken up by periods of raucous laughter and anguished weeping over bullshit changes that likely don’t matter while missing larger mistakes that likely will.

Critique: The act of opening up said novel to an onslaught of criticism on every possible aspect of the writing, story, and even formatting... The better writers seek out the most brutal of critics... they also drink heavily.

Under the Bed Book: A first, second, or even third attempt at writing a novel which is part of the learning process most writers must go through... It would likely be a better idea to burn these tomes because they doth suck... yes, even yours... I know it’s harsh but it wouldn’t be under the bed if it was any good... (Mine sucks too, I’m an equal opportunity trash talker)

Query Letter: One page pitch to ye who holds your fate in their hands that must convey the tone, plot, and that which makes your novel sparkly... wait, not sparkly, that’s been done...what’s the word? Glitter? No, that’s been done badly... fabulousity? Meh... all in 250 words or less.

Rejection: Similar to the type of rejection one gets after using cheesy pick up lines at a bar, except it takes about a year of your life to write a novel, sometimes years... cheesy pick up lines can usually be thought up in the time it takes to use the bathroom, which is where I’m convinced they’re invented... Oh, and most agents won’t track down query writers to toss a drink in their face, though that might make for more fun.

Agent: The greatest of all writer’s advocates... except when they reject you... scratch that, it’s okay when they reject you, unless they showed massive interest and then sent back your first page with a big, red, “No Thanks”, but otherwise we loves them... unless they never reply....

Landing an Agent: Reason for happy dances and celebration and even major “Squeeeeee’s” (unless Stephen is around, for he loathes the squeee). Despite non-writer assumptions, this is preceded by many revisions, much research, and at least fifty bouts of pounding one’s head off keyboard, desk or hand...

Proper Response to hearing an aspiring author landed an agent: Squee or some variation of congratulations.

Improper response to hearing an aspiring author landed an agent: “So, when will you be published?” (Which is only allowable if, when you get a promotion, I’m allowed to ask when you’ll make it to an important position, like CEO... yeah, I thought so)

***Additional Definitions:

Synopsis: Turning a 400 page book into a 1 page summary. Shoot me now. Courtesy of Michelle Hickman

I thought about going farther, like “Landing a Contract”, but I think everyone gets that. How about you guys? Are there aspects to writing that you wish non-writers understood? Got any snarky definitions for me?

The Importance of Support

2009-02-26T11:04:00.000-06:00

Writers talk all the time about the importance of having a network of other writers to share the journey. Unlike other professions, this one has some oddities that people on the outside don’t readily understand. It helps to have a support system to share resources with, learn from, and encourage us... and vice versa.

Honestly, trying to explain what you’re doing to non-writers is a challenge. You have some major milestone, like getting a full request, or *choir of angels sing* landing that perfect agent who believes in your work. Telling your writer friends means there’s someone to share the excitement and joy. Telling your non-writer friends means a blank stare or worse, a placating smile. Saying things like, “I finished my novel!” is greeted with something like, “Oh, that’s nice. When will it be published?” Which kind of makes you forget you accomplished anything. And frankly, this is a rough business. We owe it to ourselves to be able to bask in the accomplishments along the way, even if they’re not the ones that end in a paycheck.

I think this is why so many writers hide what they do. They don’t tell people in their everyday about their writing, because they’re so often subjected to incredulity. It’s hard to keep going when everyone around you thinks you’re delusional. So, we wait until there’s some major milestone. If we make the mistake of telling people our work is out on submission or *yay* full requests, we then have to tell them, “No, umn, didn’t find a publisher yet” weak smile, every time we run into them... If we tell them we found an agent, they don’t get the significance.... thinking of an agent like a real estate agent you’d hire out of a phone book and not realizing how hard it is to actually get to that point.

Publishing has its own rules. Even writers have a hard time learning them all and it takes a long time of study, trial and error before finally getting over some of the mistakes that scream, “Amateur!!!” Lately there’s been a lot of talk of all the queries bombarding agents and editors. The general consensus is that there are a lot of people recently unemployed and they’re trying their hand at writing. I think there was an immediate urge to say, WTF, do you really think it’s that easy? At least for me... but then I thought, well, damn, go for it. They’ll either learn about their craft and the business, or they’ll get frustrated and stop trying... but the fact that they just now got time to try it in earnest doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not real writers. You have to pay bills. I wonder how many have been writing in their spare time, hiding it from friends and colleagues for the same reason we all hate discussing it with non-writers.

So I say, welcome to the fold. Maybe someone out there is destined to be the next great voice of our time... but they never would have spoken if not for a stroke of bad luck and a worse economy.

How about you guys? What do you think of the influx of new writers? Any stories about your own writing and how your non-writing friends react to it?

Where Have I Been?

2009-02-24T11:30:00.002-06:00

The Blog-O-Sphere seems to be growing increasingly quiet. My favorite editors and agents have all been less active than usual because there is a great disturbance in the publishing force – namely an onslaught of new queriers during a time when houses are taking even fewer titles. The general consensus is that many of the newly unemployed are taking the opportunity to write the books they’ve always wanted to write... good luck to them. They picked a rough time to be an author, but then, any time is a rough time for this profession.

Some of my favorite blogging writers have ceased blogging – the latest announcement was posted by Stephen Parrish, who I love and will miss. But I get it. Sometimes you need a step back; sometimes your energy needs to be spent elsewhere. Hopefully, he’ll come blazing back with announcements of a book deal. In the last year, I’ve lost many of my close knit blogging circle – Josie is on hiatus and may or may not step back into blogging. Precie’s lovely presence is gone, and many others have cut down or are absolutely silent.

Hats off to you guys. I hope you’re using the time to make amazing strides in your professional and personal life... or just to enjoy yourself a little more. Thanks for the time you spent around these parts. I’ve learned a lot from you, and enjoyed it immensely.

I, myself, have been less active in blogging and commenting. I’ve been diverted by a few things, besides writing, lately. First, I am on the great employment search... which is almost as hard as finding an agent. I could do a full post about that, and maybe I will soon.

I’m also working on some artwork... my friend, Dina asked me to do the cover for her soon to be released poetry book!!! We’ve gone over various ideas and photos and I’m currently working out a detailed portrait. It’s fun, I have to say, to have my hands full of charcoal again. Different from writing, it’s just a completely separate sensation from any other creative work. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I picked up the pencil.

On the writing front, I’m getting very little done right this second. I know, double damn. Though, I’ve been thinking through the motion of the story while I’m drawing, which usually for me translates to a very productive period once I sit back down at the keyboard to get to work.

I did, however, stumble on a blog I didn’t know about. Miss Snark’s First Victim is a blog run by the lucky writer who was the first author ripped apart by Miss Snark. She set it up a year ago, and hosts writing critiques and blind agent contests... meaning an agent is judging the entries and critiquing them, but you don’t know who the agent is until after the contest... I think the last winner’s prize was a request for a full from that agent – which is pretty flippin’ cool.

Anyway, she’s hosting another game right now, though the entries are closed. (This one is just an open critique - no prizes other than feedback and no agents playing) She asked for chapter endings – any chapter in a current or past wip, the last 250 words... the objective is to see if it makes you want to start the next chapter or not... should be fun... if you’d like to read and critique along, she’ll be posting the entries with her critique tomorrow... mine’s #27.

How about you guys... what’s been keeping you busy lately? Are you missing any friends from the blog-o-sphere?

History Repeats.... picking the bestsellers of tomorrow

2009-02-19T14:26:00.002-06:00

History Repeats

Much has been made lately of the economy and the future of book publishing. You can’t possibly be a writer, or even an aspiring writer, and miss it. But then, you can’t be alive and miss what’s going on currently in the economy.

What I notice in writing circles is that you have two brands of people and thoughts. Optimist and pessimist. I’ve heard a lot of rhetoric about the sky falling and just as much, “hey, people have always needed stories!” I tend to fall into the camp that thinks people will always need stories – but I’m aware that the times are changing which means that there is a need for new and different skills in getting where you’re going.

Taking the current economy out of the equation for a minute: writers have a habit of wanting to stay on top of the trends. There is a lot of wisdom in staying up to date on current selling authors in your genre, and in the literary world in general. First, we tend to like to read anyway. But in researching our markets, a smart author is aware that their art is also their product, and it helps to stay abreast of the current trends in reader needs and wants.

On the other hand, though, the trend this second will change. Looking at the current best seller’s list will not tell you what readers will want in two years (which is about how long it’ll take a novel to get to the shelves AFTER it’s picked up... and you should be including writing and editing and querying time, which might make it more like four years). Even if you pass all of those hurdles, how many books riding that trend will be published between the time it starts and the time yours hits shelves, and how ‘over it’ will your prospective audience be by that time?

So, general wisdom today is to be aware of what’s selling, but write what you feel is strong rather than relying solely on a gimmick to carry your tome. Especially since world events can change rather quickly, which might make readers’ sensibilities and wants change as well.

So I started thinking about how to see into that crystal ball and judge what the better sellers might be in the coming years. You can’t really do this, I know. There’s only so much you can know about how a work is going to be received before it happens. I’ve heard a lot of authors say that they think fantasy will top all of the best sellers’ lists, because in troubled times people want an escape. I should note that most of those guesses were ventured by fantasy writers.

On a whim, I decided to look back at our historical landscape and see what times most closely resembled this one. Everyone automatically thinks of the Great Depression... most people who lived through the Great Depression would likely want to slap us silly in our pampered crepe hanging. They were forced out of homes, without food, often shoeless and with little clothing... now some of us are worried about serious financial issues, but few of us are in the state of standing around shipping yards with hundreds of other men in the hopes of getting one of three jobs offered for the day.

By the way, the economy hits recession status about every 7 to 20 years. I chose not to look at anything before the 1930’s because the book buying market was so vastly different in the late 1800’s. Considering that most middle to low income families only owned a bible, if that, the book buyers were largely relegated to the wealthy class for most of our publishing history prior to the last hundred years or so... So what I did was look through the best sellers from the 1930’s and then in a more recent recession, 1980-1982 (which was pretty similar to our current economic climate with heavy job cuts, though much higher interest rates and inflation).

Best Sellers of the 1930’s

Cimarron by Edna Ferber (1930)
The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck (1931 – 1932)
Anthony Adverse by Hervey Allen (1933 – 1934)
Green Light by Lloyd C. Douglas (1935)
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (1936 – 1937)
The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (1938)
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck (1939)

Of these 7 books:
4 are historical
5 can be considered sweeping epics, usually family epics.
The theme of the importance of the earth or property repeats in 5 of them
The Yearling is the only one that can be classified as YA or coming of age – and there was no YA category of that time, so perhaps the example there is that there is always room for a new genre or perspective.
Repetitive themes in every single book – survival against great odds.

What I got from each of these, and most of them were historical, but not all. Grapes of Wrath was published in 1939 and set during the dustbowl of the thirties. But what kept coming up is that each of them mirrored the climate of the day. The main characters’ grit and determination was something spectacular through harsh times.

With the exception of The Yearling, each novel dealt directly with fortune. Losing fortunes, but learning that there are more important things than money. Making fortunes during terrible times. The characters you root for come out on top financially, or the characters with money are pitiful and eventually fail. But fortunes, and vast fortunes, are a recurrent theme in most of the literature of the time; probably because it was so on everyone’s mind.

Best Sellers 1980 – 1982

The Covenant by James Michener (1980)
The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum (1980)
Rage of Angels by Sidney Sheldon (1980)
Noble House by James Clavell (1981)
The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving (1981)
Cujo by Stephen King (1981)
ET – The Extra Terrestrial Storybook (1982)
Space by James Michener (1982)
The Parsifal Mosaic by Robert Ludlum (1982)
Of these 9 best sellers:

5 can be classified as epic sagas
2 are historicals (Covenenant spans 500 years)
1 is horror
1 is a book based on the blockbuster movie (ET)
6 deal with political or international intrigue

When reading through the full lists for each year, I noticed a lot of spy novels and novels that deal either directly or indirectly with the Soviet Union... if you remember the climate in the 1980’s you’ll note that the authors were able to utilize a common concern in the American mindset for their fiction.

What’s different from this list than the original one in the 1930’s is that many of them are completely commercial and faster paced. Plot that moves was more noted than literary meandering. The lists of the 1930’s were full of Pulitzer Prize winners... not so much the best selling fiction of the 1980’s. There was more genre in this list than in the previous one, as well.

Still, family saga, epics, and historical epics are plentiful on this list. Spy and intrigue, action filled fiction, takes the place of some of the old historicals... though the theme of surviving against all odds replays... yet again.

What’s my verdict?

I don’t think human themes change. The running themes in well-placed novels will be ones that resonate with the current climate. Socio-economic equality, I think will be a critical, if not commercial success as far as themes go in the near future. Dealing with fortunes, whether showing characters of great wealth lose out to better caliber of characters without, or a character finding his/her fortune against great odds is likely to repeat.

I’m not picking a genre, people. What’s common in all of these novels is that they are well –written and they mirror the current mindset. I think mirroring your setting with what’s going on in the reader’s world is a great thing all around, but perhaps more so in times of great stress. I think readers love a good read that will make them forget their lives for a day or two... but they remember the ones that feel like they’re part of them, the works that make them feel like they can succeed or prosper.... the characters that feel like they’ve been fighting in the same foxhole together.... those are the ones they’ll remember.

That’s my two cents... What’s your prediction?

Finding Beauty

2009-02-17T10:39:00.001-06:00

I’ve never been to South Carolina, or even seen an ocean yet – but I can smell the sea salt air and feel the sun dancing across my bare shoulders. I hear waves lapping against the shore as the sand wedges into the grooves between my toes. In my mind’s eye, I have a vivid feel for this place that I’ve never seen.... weather worn wooden furniture on oversized porches.... comfortable old pillows and blooming flowers... the soft lilt in the words of the people who populate this world. I’ve seen it because I’ve been there in books.

I’ve been a lot of places in books. Ireland and Italy, most of Europe, a good deal of Asia, and about every State in America I can think of... some of them sing more than others. Some of their authors, though, they paint the world so vividly that you, never having been there, still have a feel for the place. A feeling, sights, smells, contentment, excitement – something pops into your mind the second the place is mentioned.

A great writer can make me long for the sight of their favorite forest, make me want to soak in the smells of a meadow the feel of the leaves on the overhanging trees... basking in the sound of the rushing water from a nearby creek. In reality, I hate the outdoors. I hate bugs, I’m not a nature person, I know this. But in the right hands, the author’s love of these things comes through so thoroughly that I forget it’s not my beauty, not my ideal... not my home.

This isn’t every author. Some writers are more sparse than others – nothing wrong with that, it’s a stylistic choice more than anything. With some, it comes through in their voice alone. Not in the description so much as the way they phrase their words... you can hear the accent. Not dialect, phrasing... I LOVE THAT....

For me, it’s got to be in there. I can cut out the extraneous, but man, I want you to taste it and smell it, and get where they come from – my characters. And my beauty can come from the oddest places, a rainbow in the sewer grate. I think for me the descriptive parts come in the least expected ways, because they’re new to you and something to revel in for me.... some of it gets cut because it’s more writerly masturbation than story progression, but still, a bit of a feel for the place is important to me.

How about you? How much does it matter in your reading? Does the setting have to evoke a feel for the story for you? Is it foreshadowing or just description? How about in your writing?

Getting Back on the Horse

2009-02-08T00:04:00.000-06:00

When I was in eighth grade, my mother decided it would be a great idea to take me horse back riding. You know, fun mother-daughter type bonding.... we found out much later that we bond better over coffee and occasionally booze, but that’s another story.

Now, of course, my mother thought this would be fun, with a capitol “F”. I could think of another word with that letter...

See, here’s the difference, or one of them. My mom grew up in Michigan. She spent weekends at their cottage on a lake and summers at her grandparents’ farm, where she sicked a grouchy billy goat on her sister and rode the field horses bareback for amusement. She spent her childhood picking blackberries and all sorts of nature-like crap. No offense to the nature lovers, I’m just not one of you.

See, I, on the other hand, grew up in Cicero. I never rode a horse growing up... I never even saw a horse unless you count the stuffed pony they put me on to take one of those stupid cowboy pictures when I was three. We didn’t have horses or goats and the only lamb I ever saw was the one we served on Easter. I got a pair of ice skates one year for Christmas and laced the suckers up and tried ice skating on the pool in the backyard.... it was their own fault, I’d never been to an ice rink in my life and the stuff in the alley wasn’t nearly smooth enough to skate on. None of the kids in my neighborhood rode horses. We sledded off garage roofs, the really insane tried riding bikes off of them... and then they rode in ambulances... but no horses.

Does this lead up tell you how good my first time riding went?

My mom found this place to ride horses, but it was pretty apparent when we got there that this wasn’t just a nice simple ride, it was a riding lesson. To borrow from Erica’s Demon Baby, craptastic!

I don’t remember much about the lesson as a whole. There were a good many other riders, most of whom owned their horses and were (gee, ya think?) far more skilled than I. I remember the girl on the horse in front of mine, because she had full riding gear, the horse was her own, and she was more than a little on the snotty side. I, on the other hand, was wearing jeans, converse and a CYO jacket (Catholic Youth Organization – gee, could I have advertised my lack of wasp-y-ness any better?)

Oh yeah, and I remember that girl’s horse kicking my horse... and flying... oh, and landing...ya, boy, I remember landing.

Here’s the funny thing, okay, the flying and landing bit was probably funny too. The instructor’s panicked voice was only a dim hum, somewhere in the background of my head. By the time she’d finished saying something about coming back to the office to sit out the lesson and get checked out, I was already back on the horse. I don’t even know how the hell I got on the horse, because I was short enough that I needed to use a little stool to get on the first time.

So why the hell did I do that? I’d like to say it was to show the smug girl (who by the way, didn’t look so smug after that... in retrospect, she was probably horrified that her horse kicked mine). But that’s not why. I remember why – I wasn’t friggin’ finished.

I have to tell you, the horse listened better to me, too – though maybe he just felt bad for me, because I was so clearly out of my depth.

I’ve been horseback riding a number of times since then – my favorite was the time we went in Sedona... though someone should have told me that horses like to roll on their backs after getting wet, you know, before we rode through a river... Still, the view was worth a very bruised leg.

Obviously, the moral of the story is that I have bad luck around horses... but it’s not.

In writing, you hear a lot about perseverance. We talk about how the writers who make it to publication are the ones who won’t give up, keep knocking on doors and improving. That’s all true. You hear about the random authors who get a deal on their first query, but mostly it’s the ones plugging away, with two or three books under the bed and many years at it. Two or three out of print when they find a following... it’s the long haul writers who make it where they’re going... just like anything else in life – determination and stick-to-it-iveness.

Lately, I’ve been hitting that wall – you guys know the one, most of you have hit it at one time or another. Nothing’s popping. I can see improvements, don’t get me wrong, but.... eh... improvements aren’t the same as successes. And I wondered, for about a second, why I’m still going.

Because I’m not flippin’ finished yet.

I don’t think I know who I’d be without it.

How about you guys? Who would you be if you weren’t a writer? What’s your second favorite dream? How’d you get over the wall?

New Purchases for a Growing Family

2009-02-02T23:06:00.003-06:00

Anyone out there who’s so much as gone on a long excursion, knows the value of good luggage sets. With a family, you can multiply that by the number of people in your brood. Generally, we go camping once or twice a summer, that’s about all the budget will allow most years. But still, that’s two or three days out in the woods, with need of changes of clothes twice a day and the extra set in case the elements aren’t exactly what the weather forecaster claimed – and let’s face it, how often is he right?

So far this has been pretty simple. We let the kids use their previous years’ school backpacks, instead of worrying over a good set of luggage for each of them. Then mom and dad’s clothes, or just dad’s clothes when he takes the kids on his own (no offense to the kiddie brood, but I loooooove those weekends – and they need the one on one dad time, too) – anyway, our clothes usually get packed together in actual travel luggage.

Now, though, my eleven year old is almost as tall as I am – I exaggerate, but only slightly... she’s over five feet tall and she can wear my shoes! Oldest son is quickly catching up – he’s already in a boys’ ten... I know this doesn’t seem like much, but the bigger the size, the less you can fit in a backpack... With the economy the way it is, luggage isn’t the first priority... but it’s on the list there... then again, with the economy the way it is, maybe now’s a good time to get a deal.

How about you guys? Has your family’s changing dynamic and ages caused you to think about purchases that you hadn’t considered before? What are some of yours?

Fun with Censorship

2009-01-30T10:09:00.001-06:00

I was going through some old boxes and found file folders full of work I’d done for classes in college. I didn’t even realize I’d saved some of it. Have you ever looked back at work you did years before? It’s a little scare, actually. I was reading through one paper for my Fiction Writers and Censorship Course, and it wasn’t as bad as I feared my early twenty something self to be – I still wanted to edit the hell out of it, though. I was heavy handed in a lot of places, to the point of pompousness. Then I’d alternate back to a more conversational voice and occasionally throw in some sarcasm. There are still glimmers of my voice that I recognize as mine. Well, it’s odd – you don’t realize how much you’ve changed until you look back at where you were.

Anyway, most of the stuff I’ve got is rather long – 10 to 12 pages at least, and far too long to put on a blog for your amusement. But I did find this little ditty that I thought might amuse some of my writer friends. It’s a list I did for the aforementioned Censorship class:

Marginalization :

Twenty things that can marginalize a writer’s work:

1. Fear of the unknown.
2. Fear of the known.
3. Fear of the empty page.
4. Fear of the written word.
5. Financial deprivation.
6. Social unencouragement.
7. Loss of creativity.
8. Loss of sanity.
9. My mate is in the way.
10. Too busy looking for a mate.
11. My life is uninspiring.
12. Fear of slander suits.
13. Fear of the politically correct.
14. Fear of the politically incorrect.
15. What would mommy say?
16. I have problems with graphic violence (so the masochistic barnyard scene is put on hold until my real life broken appendages heal amply enough to allow proper typing progress).
17. My self-censor is on vacation, but my publisher is not.
18. Did I mention that my editor was a formidable executioner in several past lives?
19. The world is a dismal abyss which cannot be altered by the written word (my anti-depressant dosage is much too weak)
20. I’ll procrastinate tomorrow.

How about you guys? Have you ever pulled out old work from when you first began? Were you pleasantly surprised or did you find it completely cringe-worthy? And what makes your list of things that stall your writing?

Color Me Amused

2009-01-27T22:12:00.003-06:00

Holy moly! I don’t know if this has made national news or if it’s just here in Chicago, but have you guys heard about the fourteen year old who was arrested for impersonating a cop?

If you don’t want to click on the article, the gist of it is that this fourteen year old boy walked into a Chicago precinct, dressed as a cop. He knew enough about police lingo to tell them that he’s from another precinct and was assigned to their's for the day. He was issued, get this, a locker, a radio, and a partner and sent out on patrol!!!! The kid is five foot, three inches tall!

Not only did he go on multiple calls with his partner, he drove the squad car for a while and there are some reports that he actually issued a ticket. (I wish I was the one who got that ticket – there’s no way a judge could make that one stick!) They didn’t catch him until five hours later, when he and his partner came back to the station and he couldn't produce id or verification.

Now, all of the articles and police interviews center on the same thing – how embarrassing this is for the precinct and Chicago PD in general. Personally, I have another take – what a cool friggin’ kid! I mean, seriously, do you know of a fourteen year old that doesn’t get nervous talking to the police? Even when they didn’t do anything wrong? This one walked right into a precinct and pulled the mother of all grammar school scams – on the police! It’s genius! Evil genius, but still.

From all of the articles I’ve read, this is a kid who idolized the police and was a member of their explorer program for kids. He’s also a kid with a rough home life who’s been in trouble before. I have to tell you, I think they’re going about it all wrong. Think about it – this is make or break time for this kid and he really wants to be a cop. Wouldn’t now be a good time to keep him on that path? I’d rather him want to enforce the law than break it – I’m pretty sure they’d have a hard time catching him if he went into crime.

This happened on Saturday and he’s currently being held in Juvenile on charges of impersonating an officer. I hope the judge is lenient... though this is the third time he’s been charged with that offense.

I Like Meat, Just Not in Ball Form

2009-01-22T13:57:00.000-06:00

My kids tend to amaze me on a regular basis. The funniest thing about parenthood is the realization that they are their own people. You can’t teach them how to be what they are. You guide, or try to. You teach, sometimes scold, often laugh... but you don’t really make them what they are – they are what they are... not because of or in spite of their parents, but because it’s who they’re meant to be.

There are a million ways to relate this, from infancy with all three of my kids, but maybe a good example is their taste in food. I cook on a pretty regular basis, and since they’re growing up here, all three of them are eating the food that I like to prepare... but they have their own taste. I get this. I, myself, was a picky eater as a kid and I still am... I was actually a weird eater – I loved broccoli and fish – hated chicken and steak and barely tolerated hamburgers until I was a teenager and learned the beauty of the greasy dive... but that is another story.

My daughter has very adult taste and always has – ever since she started on solid food. Her favorite meal at three years old was Steak and Fettuccini Alfredo – I started making Fettuccini as a side dish in the first place because I hate steak (sorry, Travis), so I just eat the pasta and salad. She loves steak. Loves shrimp and fish. (okay, maybe she has expensive taste)... but, get ready for it – she’s not partial to gravy. I should explain, when I say ‘gravy’ I mean my homemade sauce with meatballs. It’s good, it’s my favorite, again, it’s good. She doesn’t particularly like pasta. She eats the meatballs and just enough mostaccolli so I don’t yell at her.

My oldest son has kid taste. He loves hotdogs and pizza. He hates pretty much any vegetable except raw carrots – he won’t touch them if they’re cooked. He won’t eat hamburgers, or meatballs, but he devours pasta. He’s even kid-like in treats – he loves suckers and any kind of flavored sugary candy but doesn’t so much like chocolate – the other two looooove it.

Littlest guy is a riot. He eats everything. With gusto. He loves steak, hamburger, hotdogs and pizza. Loves pork, sauerkraut, and dumplings, and asks for it often. Adores meatballs and the pasta. And will eat any kind of treat you put in front of him. Whatever I’m serving, he’ll find something he likes.

We had pasta this week. My gravy takes about five hours to make, so I don’t make it every Sunday – maybe twice a month. When I do, all three of my kids are happy. None of them makes the dreaded gag face upon learning the menu for that day. But the three of them are starting to notice each others’ preferences in food. Commenting on how oldest son won’t eat steak so I substitute chicken nuggets, or how oldest daughter leaves half her pasta.

This week, my daughter was looking around at the plates during dinner, and here’s how the conversation went:

Daughter: (pointing at oldest son’s plate) Wow, you’re the only one who never eats the meatballs. How can you not like meat balls?

Littlest guy: He just doesn’t like meat (shrugging his shoulders, his eyes got all wide and then he crossed them, as if too say, “craaaaazy!”)

Oldest son: I like meat.... just not in ball form.

Okay, I liked the line. I think I laughed for five minutes – he’s 8, it was a pretty good reason as far as I could see...

And then I started thinking about that statement and their tastes in general, and writing. We talk so much about writing being subjective, about the voice or style not resonating with some readers or others, and it’s kind of the same thing. All of the ingredients sound right – I just don’t like the way you presented it.

So often, agents and editors will request manuscripts because the ingredients sound right. They like the genre, like the story line, but then they get their eyes on the full and realize that they don’t love it enough to fight for it. And they shouldn’t take it on if they don’t believe in it – but how do you know?

This post isn’t meant to be rhetorical – I think this is a question every writer has to answer for themselves, because we’re all going to face rejection, have and will again. What I’m wondering is how do you, personally, know whether the meat is there, but the reader just doesn’t like it in ball form.. or loaf form, whatever’s clever?

What’s your criteria for being able to determine when the problem is your writing and when it’s just a miss on that particular audience? That’s it in a nutshell. So far, for me, I’m uncertain. Maybe that’s the standard of life for most writers, or at least the great unwashed. I’d like to say, I missed here or fell flat there – or even, hey, I didn’t hit the right desk yet... but I’m not sure. My answer so far is time. Time to let it cool. Time to forget enough of my phrasing and technique so that when I re-read I can really see all of the rhythm and meter of my prose and see what, if anything, I’m missing...

How about you? How do you know you’re using enough spice and not burning the sauce? How do you know that your cooking is awesome, even if a few guests abstain?

What’s doing around the blog-o-sphere?

2009-01-21T05:04:00.001-06:00

Contests, and page critiques, oh my!!!

First, WOW-Women On Writing is hosting another open prompt flash fiction contest. The deadline for this one is February 28th and it’s hosted by the most awesome agent - Janet Reid!!!

I had decided to forego any and all submissions on short pieces until my current wip is complete, until I saw that Ms. Reid was judging. So I threw something together, because I loooove her, and as I don’t write anything in her genre, this is one of the few opportunities I’ll have to submit to her. And before you all think I’m a terrible brown nose – it’s a blind judging. Even if my submission makes it through the preliminary judging and into the queue for the guest judge, Janet will have no idea which one is mine, as my information will be redacted.

If you’re a fan of the blog, into crime fiction, or just looking for a place to submit some short work, check out the WOW link above. They’re cutting submissions for this one at 300 entries, so don’t delay too much.

Another new thing you might notice is the stunning and beauteous new badge in my sidebar. If you click on that little coat of arms, it’ll take you straight to the Anonymati.

What are the Anonymati? They are Editorial Anonymous’ own Minions!!! For those of you who haven’t found her yet, EA is an anonymous children’s book editor. I know, some of you don’t write children’s, but her blog is exceptionally informative in general, and you can always skip the posts that pertain specifically to certain aspects of children’s publishing... then again, it never hurts to be up to speed on different facets of the business.

Anyway, if you click on over to the Anonymati site, you’ll notice that EA’s doing a critique on the first few pages of manuscripts!!! How much do we love her? Well, she might not love me much if she notices I’ve published this... maybe I should take it down... nah.

I think I’ve mentioned before, but I pulled Raskin’s Wings from submissions in the fall. I was getting some requests for pages and even fulls, and it’s possible that it wasn’t hitting the right set of eyes, but I really felt like there might be something missing in the work itself. So I’m letting it simmer while I’m embroiled in From the Neighborhood, and the goal is to go back to it with completely fresh eyes later and see if a) it really is a good story and b) if I need to revise and restart submissions or if, in fact, it is another of the fabled ‘under the bed’ books.

Anyway, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass by to get a critique from EA on the opening pages. I did revise a hell of a lot before even submitting to agents, and quite a bit after my first round of submissions... as my lovely beta readers can attest. But I only skimmed it before copy pasting it in the email to EA and did not fiddle with it the way I normally would before submitting anything... so wish it well and hopefully, good or bad, it’ll give me ideas for a direction on that one when I’m ready.

I hope you all are doing well and being productive... How are those New Year’s resolutions panning out? Or if you didn’t make any, how is your writing progress in general?

Fact and Fiction - Worlds Collide

2009-01-14T10:16:00.001-06:00

When I was in high school, I had to take an economics class. It was a basic requisite class only for half the year and I don’t remember very much about it, except that I hated it. It was boring. We watched a lot of videos, about what I don’t remember, and I think we talked about balancing a checkbook and budgeting – okay, it probably was useful information, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I was sixteen.

So, because I was bored, and because I knew a good portion of the grade was on a single term paper, I flaked. I slept, read, wrote notes, and used the hall pass a lot. See, by sixteen I knew a little something about myself, no matter the subject I could always ace a written paper... I also learned more about a class by writing those papers than I ever did studying dates and figures for multiple choice questions – that’s why math was never a favorite subject for me. There were no papers to write, which made it boring. I could do the work, I just didn’t like it... we’ll call this my early lesson in – not everything you have to do in life is fun!!!

So, we were assigned the term paper. I spent a few hours in the library picking my subject, brought home two armloads of books and read voraciously – if you break it down into reading material, I’m there – I always was like that. That’s how I excel. Some kids learn best by doing or hearing a lecture – I learned best by being able to immerse myself in words. So this part of the class I remember. I remember handwriting out at least twenty pages of notes. I remember going through my mom’s vast bookshelves at home... and I remember writing the paper out longhand and then borrowing my mom’s computer to type it all up. I barely remember the subject matter – it’s been a long time – but I remember doing the work... I liked doing papers much the same way I like writing now...

So, the day came when our papers were handed back. I watched each girl receive hers, until I was the only student without a paper. The teacher tapped me on the shoulder and asked to see me after class.

After everyone cleared out, I was left alone with this teacher. It was the only class I ever took with her and today I don’t remember her name or even what she looked like. Maybe I blocked it out. She handed me back my paper. My perfectly stacked, impeccably typed work had practically been dog-eared. And there on the front was a big, fat, red-lettered ‘C’.

I think my mouth might have actually hung open, agape, the way you read in bad fiction. And I really don’t remember what this woman looked like but I remember the way I felt when she looked at me, like I was an insignificant, low class, idiot. That I remember.

“That should be an F” she said, staring straight at me in that queer way that people have when they’re trying to make you nervous, “I know you couldn’t have written that paper. You cheated or plagiarized it.”

She paused, still staring at me. Maybe she was giving me an opportunity to defend myself. I did nothing. The oddest thing was, I felt guilt. I did the work. I didn’t plagiarize it – it was mine and she was completely wrong... I should have been insulted that she jumped to the conclusion that I was too stupid to write the paper. I should have responded. I did nothing. I felt guilty for something I didn’t do.

“The only reason I gave you a passing grade was because I couldn’t find the source you took it from. If I ever do, you’ll fail the entire class. Goodbye.”

I turned and walked out of the classroom, late for my next class... I remember walking into the hall and there wasn’t a soul around, carrying my taunting “C” paper that might as well have said, “Failure... loser... dimwit... cheater”.... C is for Cheater...

In retrospect, I should have fought her on it. In retrospect the thing I remember most is a fury at myself, for letting her think it. For taking the grade when I clearly didn’t deserve it. Any of my core subject teachers who had read my essays would have told her that I wrote the paper. They’d all read my work. But I didn’t ask anyone to help me or take up for me. I did nothing. Which only served to make me feel weaker and worse.

So what does any of this have to do with fiction? My main character has the exact same thing happen... except he handles it different... better... more satisfying – at least, for me. And I realized that I’d taken this small little thing from my own life, but different... the teacher in the novel is not my own teacher – they’re a whole character. My MC is not me. That’s the thing with fiction, your characters get to say and do all the things we would like to get to go back and do over... they get to be everything we’d have liked to have been, but better... Fiction should be realistic, but not real. Real is often less than spectacular... and every once in a while, in my writing at least, I’d like to see the overlooked, underestimated kid beat the odds.

Recently, someone asked me what I’m writing, and I told them it’s called, From the Neighborhood. So they asked if it was about me, growing up... Everyone who grew up in my neighborhood uses that phrase, “from the neighborhood” has multiple meanings – “They’re from home” “They’re good people,” “They’re one of us”.

It’s not about me – it’s fiction. But it is about the neighborhood. I am hoping to capture the essence of it... My characters could’ve grown up down the street from me... but they’re not real people I know... and I find it harder to explain to non-writers, but it is what it is. They’re realistic, but not real people.

How about you guys? How much of your fact goes into your fiction? Do you use pieces of people you know to flesh out characters? Do you use odd events of your past for fodder in your fiction? And what are your limits as far as how much real life enters your fictional world?

Cutting Back and Balancing the Checkbook

2009-01-13T19:58:00.001-06:00

Since the economy’s demise... okay, that was a little harsh... since the economic situation has caused significant belt tightening around these parts, I’ve been doing a little maneuvering of ye olde finances. The first thing I did was consider things to cut out entirely, and regular monthly bills I could cut down on. My TV Options were one of the considerations, for sure.

It’s not like the old days, when you bought a set and the only thing you were paying for was the electricity. If I didn’t have cable or Direct TV nothing would come in on my television because they really don’t make ‘em with plain old antenna’s anymore. Cable can cost quite a bit, for very little. Even the basic package was starting to stretch the limit of what I could rationalize for entertainment purposes when I should really be cutting back, so I started checking into Direct tv.

Of course, there are other areas where I can cut things out, too. But I have started comparing different plans for phone, television, and internet needs because you can save a lot just by being informed. How about you? Has the economy started you budgeting yourself? Are you clipping coupons, or just putting off vacations? See, I think this was a pretty good wake up call for me to be a little more frugal – how about you? Do you think of it as a blessing in disguise? A thing to be borne? Or just one more bump in the road to be gotten past and forgotten?

Book Roast and other news...

2009-01-10T21:30:00.002-06:00

So, I just got my brand new, handy-dandy, State of Illinois issued license plate... and I'm so damn proud, I had to share:

In real news:

Those of you who follow my blog are almost certainly familiar with Book Roast! Well, they're re-launching with an even juicer schedule.

Please drop by the The Book Roast Blog for the hippest publishing party in town! One hot publisher, two terrific agents, and six fabulous authors will be kicking off the launch party!!

The Book Roast serves up a variety of authors and books, lightly grilled and seasoned with humor. The Book Roast site is a free promotional tool for authors dedicated to celebrating great books! Its mission is to help publicize books of all genres, printed by publishers of all sizes.

The launch line-up is:

Monday, Jan 12: Mystery Publisher
Tuesday, Jan 13: Eric Stone
Wednesday, Jan 14: Agent Lucienne Diver
Thursday, Jan 15: Barrie Summy
Saturday, Jan 17: Elysabeth Eldering

Monday, Jan 19: Mystery Publisher
Tuesday, Jan 20: Traci E Hall
Wednesday, Jan 21: Maggie Stiefvater
Thursday, Jan 22: Agent Nathan Bransford
Friday, Jan 23: Jennifer Macaire

We hope to see you there!!