Tag Archives: Stephen King

Monday Hint: Nine More Days!

Keep writing!

What? On Labor Day?

Yes! One of the most prolific and well-published writers of our time, Stephen King, writes every day of the year. Even birthdays and Christmas.

One hour a day.

That’s all we ask.

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Three Thing Thursday

  1. I am reading Fahrenheit 451. For the first time. And quite liking it. I’m not sure if I’m surprised by this. My sister loved Ray Bradbury as a kid (she always out-read me). She read Stephen King, Tolkien and Bradbury long before I did. I was stuck in Steinbeck, Faulkner and Twain.

    This summer I’m reading a lot. A lot more than I have since school

    What have you read recently that you’ve loved?
    What have you read that you missed out on as a kid or teen?
    What is a favorite book that I should read?

  2. I am gathering books for the Hopi Reservation. If you would like to donate, please email me at carolthewriter@yahoo.com. These books must be gently used or new. I just looked up at my shelf and saw several novels I will never read again. It’s time to let those go. I have space only for the ones I want to keep forever. Or, maybe not space, but you know.
  3. In August, Ann Dee and Kyra and I might be having a writing marathon again. It’s been awhile. Will let you know as we get closer. If you are interested in playing a long, let me know.

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We’re Back! Three Thing Thursday!

Carol:

Last night I dreamed Ryan Reynolds installed the new granite countertop in my kitchen.

He knew how much I loved him so he surprised me by being an installer!

He was funny!

And super-cute!

It was a great dream. Far better than the one the night before where I dreamed my daughter was swept out to sea by a giant wave and there was nothing I do to save her and I knew she was going to die because the sea was so rough. Yes, the Ryan Reynolds dream was great.

Plus–guess what?! I wasn’t even looking for him, and I found RR on Twitter! (His wife was in photos with him, but I didn’t look at her.) It was so weird, just happening upon him on Twitter. Like I was walking along in a new neighborhood and found out where my crush lived.

The Twitter thing was all about Deadpool, and I couldn’t decide to follow him. Do I? Don’t I? Do I? Don’t I?

I know how I am.

I might take a Xanax for a migraine and wake up the next day to see that I’d tweeted 8 billion messages to him like:

I know I am old but u r cute. I write books. Do you read?

Or

Could you be keynote at WIFYR? Pay– $300. (Only 30 minutes. I heart you.)

Or

Do you mind flabby/chubby/balding/funny/older women? Teeth okay.

At this point I am NOT following Ryan Reynolds on Twitter. But yes, I still pause the moment he is naked with Sandra Bullock in THE PROPOSAL.

And FYI–what you have just witnessed here is exactly how I write.

Scared?

 

CHERYL:

If you’re anything like me, then one of your favorite fantasies is becoming an award-winning author right out of the gate. Can’t you just picture it? All the highest awards, every accolade available, all of the critics universally agreeing that your debut is the greatest ever written.

But I remember hearing Shannon Hale speak once. My favorite novel of hers was her first, The Goose Girl. Someone else in the audience felt the same, and asked her why that one didn’t win a Newbery like her later novel, Princess Academy.
She replied that she was actually glad that it didn’t win. She felt that if it had, she would have felt so much pressure to have the same success that she might never have written another novel. The moderate success and the loyal fanbase was exactly what she needed to motivate her to continue writing.
Shannon Hale went on to say that Kate DiCamillo had a great deal of difficulty writing her next novel after The Tale of Despereaux won. J.K. Rowling felt she had to write under a pen name after Harry Potter. Harper Lee didn’t write another novel for decades. Stephen King stated that he always feels a bit hurt when someone says that his best novel was The Stand….does that mean that nothing he’s done since then has been good? Is his best long gone?
So perhaps instant fame and fortune isn’t the best method. Maybe writing careers, like story arcs, need time to build to a climax. Isn’t it wonderful to think that your best is yet to come?
BRENDA:
Oh, the lasting effects of a thoughtless comment.  As I was re-reading Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones (yes, I’m still on that path through the woods), she told about a childhood experience.  Playing her cousin’s piano in Brooklyn she was singing along with it “In the gloaming, oh my darling . . .”  Her cousin, nine years older, screamed out “Aunt Sylvia, Natalie is tone-deaf. She can’t sing.”  From then on she never sang, listened to music only on rare occasions, but learned the words to all the Broadway songs from the radio.  She never tried to imitate the melody.
My own long-lasting childhood bruise was when I was playing with a younger boy cousin.  We were only 3 and 4.  My aunt Virginia had a beautiful, knit afghan which we were using as a “dress-up” item.  I wrapped it around my tummy, and twirled and twirled.  Weldon wanted a turn, but I was bigger, older and wouldn’t give him a chance.  When he began to cry, Aunt Virginia stormed in, rather upset with me.  “Brenda, why are you always so selfish?”  She whisked him away into her bedroom, bedecked him in a long flowing skirt of many colors and a cowboy hat with a shiny brown bead that slid up a cord to secure the hat to his head.  Needless to say, I wanted a turn with those items: the afghan puddled around my feet, and had lost it’s glamour.  And I believed for many, many years that I was “always” selfish.
What lost opportunities did Natalie miss out on for enjoying music?  What guilt did I carry with me well into my adult, even mothering, years?  Be careful what you say (or what you make/let your characters say): “Children will listen,” and bear the scars.
What are your characters’ childhood scars?  Still festering?  Ingrained?  Somehow, still debilitating?  How may those scars be healed or overcome?
Carol Again:
Just found a site with Ryan Reynolds pics.
Just saying.

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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.

 

 

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