Three Thing Thursday

Cheryl:

 

I just finished THIS MONSTROUS THING by Mackenzi Lee. What an absolutely incredible novel. 

It is, above all things, profound. As a reader, I was drawn in to the protagonist’s decision making process, trying to will him into making the choices I would make. Then I was forced to face judgment on my own decisions. It gave me a horrifying glimpse inside my own mind.

After all, am I good or am I clever?

The novel isn’t filled with flowery phrases or expansive vocabulary. It’s clear, concise, and to the point. The characters are not good or evil, simply human.

As I closed the book, all I could think was, “I wish I could write like that. I wish I could make people feel things like that. I wish I could create characters that come to life.”

I don’t know if I ever will be able to. But I feel a renewed determination to try.

Carol:

Mark your calendar!

Steve Fraser (Jennifer De Chiara Literary Agency) is coming to town!

Hear his speech at BYU on February 24, 2016. It will be at 6:30 pm.

Room # to come.

Also, only a few morning spots left at Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers. (www.wifyr.com)

We have lots of classes to choose from in the afternoons and we’re excited about our faculty this year, like the AMAZING Trent Reedy.

Some of you may have heard him when he came to WIFYR a few years back. He was our keynote.

He and I were in the same graduating class at Vermont College and I love him. He’s smart, passionate, and he and I had a session or two of slow saunters around campus, talking books.

Brenda:

I’ll call this one “Sisyphus and His Rock”:

I just read a heart-breaking story about a college fellow who decided, finally, to share his novel with a trusted friend and able writing mentor. The student gave him a beautiful, thick, leather binder with tabs for each of many chapters. He sat on the student’s bed and read the first chapter, getting more and more excited, because — though long (34 pages) — it was good: opened well; had great visuals; pacing and language were both accessible. And the reader LOVED the characters.  Excited, he turned, finally, to chapter 2.

Twenty pages of blank paper.  Ditto for the other 18 tabbed sections.

The mentor said he thought this fellow “had been working on his story for rather a long time.” “Eleven years this February,” he answered.

And the entire time was spent writing, revising, rewriting the first chapter until it was “perfect.”  The mentor compared the work to Sisyphus’ trying to push a rock up the mountain only to have it tumble down again,  where he would start over.

I’m neither that good, nor that bad, I suppose: but I’m embarrassed to say I have 13 novels in various stages of “not-done.” Some are quite long. Some, not much more than a chapter or the barest essentials of an MC or two, and a couple of incidents to be fleshed out. I’m not like that college kid: I stop when something else catches my eye (or interest). . . “squirrel!” . . . And I may not get back to “it” (which ever “it” it may be) for months and months. Or even years.

How many “ROCKS” do YOU have? Are our rocks doomed to bury us, bring us down? Fortunately, my most complicated of stories (YEARS old by now, and heavily researched) has finally caught my interest again, and I’m trying to capitalize on the excitement which has re-entered my heart in its behalf.

I’ll go to my “next biggest” rock, as soon as I get through pushing this one to the peak. And I’m wearin’ my runnin’ shoes.

Writing What Makes You Cringe

I remember hearing (from a  friend) an interview with  Stephen King. (I’m completely giving this story to you third hand. That means it may be completely wrong.)

Anyway, in the interview, King said  once he heard someone step on a roach and he (King) just cringed. Then he thought, “I want to make readers feel that way.”

Is that true? Maybe. But the idea of writing something that will make a reader cringe (in this case because it’s scary) is smart. We want our readers to feel emotions when they read our novels.

But how?

A few days ago a friend asked me to write something for a collection she’s editing. I won’t say what or anything in case my piece doesn’t get in. But I will say this–I was worried. It’s dark and sad. And my writing about this will sort of bare my soul. It took me three days to write less than 300 words. Then, I cried when I talked to my girls about it. Felt embarrassment about the topic. About the words I’d put to paper.

It occurred to me that when I write I do poke around at emotions. Lots of times I’m heart-heavy when I write a sad book. And the easiest novels I ever write are the ones that fill me with joy because those books are–wait for it–happy.

But have I ever felt the way this essay has made me feel? So raw? So exposed?

I think so. It’s part of my process. A hard part sometimes. But a necessary part.

If you want your readers to feel whatever it is you want to convey, then you better know that feeling inside and out.

The words have to ring true. The emotion needs to be palpable. The reader needs to feel like the character. Needs to BE the character.

So if you scare yourself, you are probably scaring your reader.

Remember that the next time you crunch a roach.

 

 

Three Thing Thursday

Carol:

We have 2 or 3 spots left in the 2-day workshop with Steve Fraser, agent with the Jennifer De Chiara Literary Agency.

Go here for information:

Two Days with Stephen Fraser

 

Cheryl

 I took on a project. A writing project. It’s just a short story to be put in an anthology with some other authors, but it’s more than I’ve been doing for a long time. 

I’m nervous. Do I still have it? Did I ever?

I don’t know. But I’m going to try.

And the beautiful thing? Almost as soon as I agreed, ideas poured into my head. Like they’ve been waiting for me. Like they’ve been holding back, respecting my space, understanding that I’m sleep deprived and stressed and being pushed beyond my limits. But as soon as I called out, they were there.

I’m not ready. But I’m going for it anyway.

Brenda:

This quote puzzled me: “A writer shouldn’t be engaged with other writers, or with people who make books, or even with people who read them. The farther away you get from the literary traffic, the closer you are to sources. I mean, a writer doesn’t really live, he observes” ~ Nelson Algren

WHAT ? ? ?

Now, this is a man who wrote, “Never Come Morning” WITH some help/input from Kurt Vonnegut — a “friend” with whom he taught at a university. Moreover, his books, all out of print at Algren’s death, were defended and resurrected by the likes of some of his writer “friends”: Russell Banks, James R. Giles; Studs Turkel, who evidently took on the task of republishing his out-of-print or banned books.

So my advice is hang out with writers. Find a critique group, or “Found” a critique group. Go to Life, the Universe and Everything (LTUE), or LDStorymakers, or Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers (WIFYR). Do a summer National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) at Camp NaNo, and make online friends with your writing buddies. Then do it again in November. And there are others as well.  (And GO LIVE TOO ! ! ! )

Writers helping writers. That’s what a REAL writing community is: and your writer friends will give advice, explain some of the “rules,” offer helpful critiques, encourage you when you’re ready to give up, hug you when you need it most, and generally KEEP YOU WRITING ! ! !

A few weeks ago my niece who is also my virtual trainer and one of my best friends, she texted me and asked if I had done the workout I was supposed to do for the day.

I laughed.

I hadn’t done the workout for the day in about two weeks.

I texted back: Wearing the same clothes from last Tuesday. Not exercising. Not eating kale. Just stepped on a banana.

A few days later, a box arrived in the mail.

It was a small stair stepper. The kind you can keep under your bed. The kind from infomercials. The kind that would make all my dreams come true.

I was thrilled.

Here are the reasons:

a. it was new.

b. it looked so easy.

c. I could do it in my bedroom where no one could see me.

d. it meant I was going to become fit and get dressed regularly and start eating kale.

Um.

Guess what happened?

I kept waiting for a chunk of time to do it. I kept looking for my sports bra and my dumb yoga pants. I kept waiting for the kids to be occupied. I kept waiting for the perfect time and the perfect atmosphere and the perfect feeling in my heart and soul to begin my journey to physical fitness.

Today I took the stepper out of the box. Finally.

I also got on the stepper. In my nightgown and underwear and barefeet and no bra (don’t picture it–please) and for ten interrupted (but I did squats during the interruptions) minutes, I did the stair stepper.

And, I felt amazing. I looked awful. My hair kept getting in my mouth. I didn’t have a protein drink hand and it wasn’t for sixty minutes. But amazing.

I still feel amazing. Ten minutes! It’s a start.

I sometimes do this with a new project. Or even an old project. One that I love. One that has so many shiny prospects. It’s going to be so easy! It’s going to be the novel of my dreams!  I would write and it would flow out of my  fingers and I wouldn’t stop until it was done. 2000 words a day just like Mr. Stephen King!!!!! But first I need time to write. I need a place to write. I need to feel like writing. I need everyone to LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!

But then . . .

Two weeks later.

Three weeks later.

And a new piece of workout equipment or novel idea looks so much better, so much more promising

I’m going to try ten minutes a day on my new stair stepper.

I’m also going to try ten minutes a day on my book that this killing me and that I’m a champion at avoiding. Ten minutes! Ten interrupted minutes even! Without wearing a bra!

I think I may be the only person with this problem. Oh well.