I’ll start with my Friday Five, and you guys join in with the cool stuff you got done this week, no matter how small!

1. I got through the Plot section of Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook. That was a BIG horn toot. The best part is that it happened because I’ve been moving along more quickly and staying more focused as I work. So even though I don’t know that I’ve been getting more actual hours in on the WIP, I seem to be using the available ones more productively.

2. I bought Save the Cat by Blake Snyder. Which is another sign of my commitment to figuring out at least SOME plot for this WIP.

3. I bought a new monitor. I’d tossed the old (okay, antique. Ancient, even) CRT monitor a few weeks ago and “borrowed” my son’s flat-panel, since he’s pretty much always on his laptop these days, until I could “get around to” picking out one for myself. Yesterday, he realized and informed me that he needed to use the Smart Music software on his desktop, which meant, yes, he needed his monitor back. Soon, because the music he needs to practice is for a concert next week. So I stopped at my computer-shopping store, looked at the options, picked one, brought it home, connected all the cables, installed the software, and I am looking at it as we speak. I haven’t actually assembled it correctly, since it’s tilted at an angle toward my desk, not me. But that’s for the hardware guy to deal with. AKA Husband.

4. I cleaned the house. You know, at the Visitors-are-coming-soon level, rather the usual We-can-live-like-this-a-while-longer level. And, really, all I want to do is tell everybody to stop using the house for, oh, a week or so, just so I can sit back and look at the cleanliness for a while.

5. I got to Yoga twice and got in a couple of pretty good walks. I cut down on some of the sugar intake. I had more energy and slept better. Son is prone to say that “Correlation does not imply causation,” but I’m pretty sure this is one of those times it does.

Okay, let’s hear from you. Pat yourself on the back, toot that horn, give yourself a blue ribbon. And share your accomplishments in the comments, so we can all celebrate!

Hey, I can dream, right?

Plot is my burden, my battle, and my quest.

Every time I start a different project, I find myself searching for the plot system that will work. For me. Forever. I read blogs about plot, I play with my whiteboard, I picture myself with the perfect set of index cards that I basically toss into the air then watch settle happily into place…a place from which I can write.

I know that part of the “problem” is that, as a reader, I don’t really notice plot much. I’ve probably said this here before, but I can read the same mystery three times (okay, years apart, but still…) and not figure out whodunnit. What gets me when I read is the character dynamics, the interactions, the layers of personalities that play out on each other. And those are the pieces I really love about writing. Unfortunately, the best character studies fall flat without story. This, I get.

So…this time around, here’s what I’m thinking.

• I’m going to read Save the Cat. I’ve been hearing about it for years, and lately Debbi Michiko Florence has been singing its praises. I’m going to see if there’s a takeaway for me that’ll push me forward this time around.
• I’ll troll through Robin LaFevers’ blog posts, because I know she’s got some great plot stuff.
• I’m thinking about index cards a little differently. Maybe I’ve missed this before, while everybody else got it (very possible), but I always get confused about who goes on what color card. I mean, my hero is in EVERY SCENE, right? So when does a blue card get assigned to one supporting character and the yellow one to another? What I’m thinking is that maybe those are the background stories, the plot lines that happen off-scene, that we don’t actually see. The events and actions that impact my hero IN the scenes that make it to the page. So I’m thinking green for every on-stage scene, with Caro’s plot points on the cards. Then, oh, purple for her BFF, yellow and blue for the brothers, red for her mother, etc. But the other colors track the back story, the arc of the other characters–what they’re doing while Caro runs around in the foreground crashing into obstacles. Yes? Maybe? If anyone out there realizes this has always been the way to use index cards, and that I’m a clueless wonder for not having realized it before, please feel free to let me know. Nicely.
• See what I can do with Scrivener. As I go through the workbook, I have been tossing scene cards into Scrivener. Maybe I’ll work with my new index card system in this application. I do have a dread of getting all the physical index cards laid out on the floor, forgetting to close my office door, in comes the cat, and….poof! I’m not sure there’d BE any saving the cat, at that point.
• Steal ideas. Here’s where you come in. I know a lot of you don’t plot. To be honest, I don’t actually want to hear from you guys right now. Except, you know, in sympathy and support. BUT…those of you who, like me, want a structured home to pour the stories into, who’ve managed–at least once–to build that home and have it work, how about sharing? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

Yes, I know there is no perfect system. Yes, I know plot is a living, breathing, kicking and biting thing that resists any attempts to tame it. Does this mean I’m not going to try? Nah. I’ll look around, play with what I find, heave a deep sigh, and dig in. But I’d really love it if I had a shovel that at least has a sharp edge and an unbroken handle, that didn’t give me splinters or fall apart when it hit the first rock. So if any of you have a tool you’ve used and like, do, please drop it into the comments. With my thanks!

1. Wearing shorts and a sweater, as the sun came out and things moved toward warm, but only actually got there–on our hillside–for a couple of mid-day hours.
2. Watching youngish deer wander through our newly shorn and fire-proofed property and remembering that we need to start keeping our gates closed, if we want the dogwood and fuchsias to survive.
3. A little quiet time each evening, as husband and son went for driving-practice outings. Along with starting the car on Monday morning to see the gas gauge just tipping the top of the reserve light.
4. Attending a parent panel on the college-application process and hearing a few scary things but, mostly, a lot of sanity and reassurance.
5. Making progress on fiction writing AND work writing, reminding myself that I may not be able to get it all done as fast as I’d like, but I can still get it all done.

And one photo from inside those gates, the plant (azalea?) that five years after planting, my husband was calling plastic and swearing would never bloom. Some things just take a while, right?

Pretty soon, it’ll be SPLAT! Facedown in the sand, rope burn on my palms.

What am I talking about? The increasingly strong pull to rush move at a slightly faster pace through The Breakout Novel Workbook. I’m starting to get through a worksheet every time I sit down to work. I’m seeing myself type little notes into a step, notes like Covered this in earlier worksheet and Save for later, if needed. Instead of working through extra examples of the tasks Maass assigns, I’m doing just (AKA only) what the assignment says.

I’m scolding myself a little bit, and I’m using some restraint, but I’m also seeing this as a good thing. Tug of war pulls you in two directions–toward something and away from it. Up till now, I’ve been working steadily on the worksheets and making progress, learning more about my characters and their stories–which is why I backed off from drafting the WIP and picked up the Breakout book again. But…and here’s the good part…the more progress I make, the more I’m getting pulled toward writing. Actual scene writing. I drafted a short scene for a worksheet exercise the other day, and it was like a few drops of the most absolutely perfect dessert wine on my tongue. Sweet, smooth, and rich.

I’m getting impatient.

I’m still going to finish the workbook. There were good reasons why I dug back into it and committed to working all the way through. Those reasons still hold. But I do believe I’ll be moving just a little more quickly these days. And maybe loosening up my grip on the rope.

Which brings me to what I loved about The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. It’s what I love about the idea of growing older and doing it the “right” way. It’s what I’ve always loved about books with “older” women (as in, not THAT much older than me now) who have loosened their own reins, the ones they’ve spent years holding tightly onto, the ones they’ve finally learned to relax. I read books like these when I was a teen, when I was in my twenties, and I still do. (For a light, but wonderful representation of this feeling, read Dorothy Gilman’s first Mrs. Pollifax mystery, The Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax. I love the whole series, but this first book, especially the first few, choice-making chapters, totally hits it for me.) They represent a goal, a dream, the person I want to grow up to be. And, yes, I think the person I am growing up to be.

It’s about expansiveness.

It’s about, as I said, loosening the demands and expectations and restrictions we place on ourselves, or that we let others place on us. It’s about looking for opportunities to change, to change one’s life and/or attitude. It’s about welcoming those opportunities when they come, even if you do it nervously and with baby steps and with one hand on the door behind you in case you decide to step back through. It’s about stretching past those fears, like the ones I have about traveling to India, and taking a chance that there will be bad stuff as part of an experience, but that there will also be good stuff, and the one will make the other worthwhile, even okay.

You have to go see the movie. I am not going to give you any spoilers. But it was just beautiful to watch these people, all at some different place along this path, at an age when expectations might tell them to just sit still and quit moving, to just accept the parts of the world that cometo them and ignore any of the parts they have to get to themselves. And it was wonderful to remember which way I want to do this life, from now until the time I absolutely can’t. And even then, to keep trying.

• A few things Jennifer Hubbard was thinking about that, as usual, I spend time thinking about, too.
  Older and Younger
• Beth Revis interviews Robin LaFevers, whose newest book Grave Mercy I have been raving about since I read it.
  Robin LaFevers interview
• Alex Villasante talks about how easy (NOT!) it is being out on submission. For the first time. Go, read, sympathize!
  What I Know about Being on Submission
• Jo Knowles has a wonderful post about actually knowing, truly, where your manuscript is–even if that “where” isn’t yet Done.
  A Little More Work to be Done
• Ramona DeFelice Long has started a new series of How-To posts. Ramona is a freelance editor as well as a writer, so stop in here at her first post and just keep reading throughout the month.
  A Bold New Blog Plan
• One of Jennifer Laughran’s usual intelligent, thoughtful posts–this one on reading books by authors we personally dislike or disrespect.
  Reading with the Enemy
• Jeannine Atkins posts about getting some pretty intense critique feedback. This is, as far as I’m concerned, the courage and strength we all need to have about and for our writing.
  One Hundred Pages

But it matters a lot more.

Yes, I’m working on a picture-book revision this week, so the detail problem is more in my face than when I’m writing early draft thoughts about the YA WIP. But still…it’s relevant for all writing, I think.

Yesterday, on Facebook, Hélène Boudreau said she was craving s’mores. And then she posted this picture:

Look at that. Is that a chocolate bar over which the marshmallow is melting? It is not. It’s a peanut-butter cup.

Besides making me drool crazily and want to run right out to the store for supplies, what does the peanut-butter cup do? It changes the whole thing. If you’re like me and you love peanut butter, not to mention peanut butter inside chocolate, it makes the whole idea of a s’more so much better, I’ll never go back. (Now if someone would just come up with a replacement for those dry graham crackers!) If you are someone who doesn’t like peanut-butter cups (seriously?!), it might make you shake your head in dismay. If you have peanut allergies, I’m guessing you’re not having a happy Pavlovian response right now.

My point? There’s a difference between a plain chocolate bar and a peanut-butter cup. And it’s a difference that can tell us something specific about a person or a character.

You start with an idea, a concept. Let’s say: Friendship. I like that. Now, because you know better than to tell this friendship, you try to think of something that shows friendship. How about a present? Okay. Great. What present? A book? Or a racing-car set? Tickets to the next James Bond movie? Or to that all-nude production of Waiting for Godot?

One more? Concept: Anger. Details: Throwing a chair through the window or curling up into a ball on the couch? Knocking down that tower of blocks or turning your back on everybody else in the room and building that tower slowly, steadily, as close to the sky as you can get it?

I’ve gone on here about how I’m usually on the side of fewer details, especially in historical novels. And I stand by my belief that too many details is just…too many.  I also get that–with a picture book–the writer who supplies too many details is not only overdoing the word count, but is probably also getting in the way of the illustrator. BUT…when it comes time to actually pick a detail, you need the right one. It needs to add to the story, reveal character, and create an image in the reader’s mind.

What will I be doing today? Sitting at my computer, staring into space, letting ideas and words and images saunter through my brain. I’ll have my butterfly net handy, ready to catch any possibilities, drop them into my story, and see if they’re the right fit. Most I’ll set free again, but I’m definitely hoping for one that will decide to stay.

A couple of recommendations for picture books in which the authors have, IMO, done a beautiful job picking details:

• Jim Averbeck’s In a Blue Room (I know exactly what “lullaby bells” sound like.)
• Sue Fliess’ Shoes for Me! (“Shoes that buckle, left and right.” For the little girl that I was, buckles were the absolute in fancy. And left and right? More grown-up.)

1. Balanced in family, work, and creativity.
2. Still head over heals in love with all three above.
3. Calm. (Or as calm as it is possible for me to be!)
4. Striving to keep myself healthy and fit. I wouldn’t say no to a line-in-the-sand on the wrinkles.
5. Resisting, at least a bit, the label Grown Up.

What about you?

Which meant that this week was about me receiving a lot of feedback.

Only, outside of the critique-group environment, that “feedback” is actually called something more like “make-these-changes-now-please” notes. The please is because I work with nice people!

There are different types of review comments, most of which you’re probably familiar with. Some of the ones I’ve been seeing are:

• Do we need this comma? (Yes, I tend to be comma-happy!)
• This seems awkward. (Okay, I was writing fast!)
• Can you give me some more information about this? (Sure, let me just put on my research hat.)
• How about re-wording it like this? (Depending on my mood and the suggestion, this either prompts an “Oh, hey, yeah, that is better!” or a “WTH? Who said you could edit me?” The latter one usually means I need to have some coffee and then take a second look. At which point, I typically end up at least alittle closer to the first response. Or I find a compromise. And then apply the Executive-Decision power of the writer and make a change I can live with.)

Honestly, and happily, this week was also filled with many “nice jobs” and “thank yous.” And doing revision work is such a different mind-set from getting those original words on the page; it feels good to clean things up and get projects finished or at least moved on to the next stage.

But there’s a difference between reviewers for whom, essentially, you work and those critiquers with whom you are working. With employers, you get a little less choice on how to handle the comments. (Sometimes, a lot less choice.) With critiquers, you have the freedom to say, “Well, no, I don’t think so.” In practice, when you’re the author and you’re sifting through the feedback, you can say that as often as you like. Yep. You have the final power.

Of course…the critiquers are your audience. They’re your first readers (and sometimes second, third, fourth…). Which brings us back to that old question, who are you writing for? Yourself? Or the people you want to fall in love with your book. Both, obviously.

But sometimes maybe it’s a good idea to put on the employee hat, just to push yourself a little harder. You can remind yourself that, yes, there are people who can (and should) “edit” your work, who should at least give you their honest, intelligent ideas about how to make it better. And there are plenty of times when you should listen, when it’s important to take yourself off that author pedestal and listen to the readers.

Even if it takes that extra cup of coffee.

• Project A has the highest-urgency level, with an absolute, drop-dead due date of Friday, for which I still need reviews & material from other people involved in the project. So, basically, I can’t really work on it today, but–you know me–I can worry about it!
• Project B also has a Friday deadline, but it’s one that can be extended, and most of the work is a little bit of steady research and some simple rewriting. I’m easily halfway there. I’m working on Project B today, mostly because I can’t yet work on Project A.
• Project C is, so far, just a potential. If it has a deadline, I don’t know it, and–truthfully–I don’t know yet whether I will or can do this one. It’s still in the Let’s Talk and Explore stage. So, yeah, I can do a little thinking and a little work, but there’s no commitment and, thus, no real urgency. It is, however, possibly exciting and possibly intimidating. Which means, yes, I can fret about it even while I don’t work on it.

There have been many times in the past when I had one job and, frankly, no real lifeoutside that job. Calm. Steady. And, oh, yeah…boring.

I’m not bored today.

What’s up with your week?