Posted in Books, Reading, Tension, Voice

Reading for Writing

This week I isolated one of my worries about my current WIP–the worry that I don’t (yet!) know how to convey the tension the story needs and deserves. I’m not the most comfortable person with tension. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, books were invented for me (yes, for me) to escape life’s stresses.

And then this character came along and told me in no uncertain terms that she was a strong and powerful girl, that she had to face some very bad things to bring that power out, to see it for herself. She also told that I had to write those things.

Yes, okay. Sure. No problem.

I’ve been plotting and writing and developing my characters, and I’m definitely making progress. In the back of my head, though, has been that worry–what about the tone of the story–it’s feel. This is, I think, partially a matter of voice, and partially a matter of things like sentence length, action and pacing, how long and how intently I as a writer and Caro as a hero dip into her reactions and emotions. The one thing I’m clear on is that–I’m not yet clear on all this. 🙂

So I’m going back to the basics. I don’t know who said this first, and I don’t know what number they used, but I’m thinking of the advice about reading X quantity of books in a genre to really know it. Yes, I know there’s a before in there, too–read X books BEFORE you try and write something. Well, I’m going to cheat. I care too much about this story, want to be writing it too much to wait until I’ve read 100 or 1,000 tough, edgy, painful YA novels. So I’ll be reading and writing at the same time.

I’m going to do a little osmosis–just read and read and read and let the words of the experts seep into my brain. I’m also going to do a little analysis–pick a few favorites and read them a few more times, though, then try to actually see what they’re doing, how they’re creating that tension. How they’re writing the words that hit me in the gut.

And, yes, I know I’m running the danger of losing myself so much in their styles that I start copying those styles on my own pages. It’s happened once or twice before–when I was reading a lot of historical novels, at the start of this project, I had to back off for a while. Also–and this one was a lot more fun–when I was on a binge of reading Meg Cabot’s Princess Diaries series, my 12-year-old male protagonist started talking way too much like Mia. So I’ll be watching myself for heading into derivative-land, and pulling out for a bit if I need.

But I’m going to read, and I’m going to write. And I’m going to trust in this combination that hasn’t ever let me down before.

Posted in The Writing Path

Thankful Thursday: What IS a Writing Path (Part 1)

This month, I came up on my 1-year blog-versary for this website and blog. I’d been blogging at LiveJournal for a while longer, but started this site when I got the contract for The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide. I decided I wanted a blog that was more tuned into my professional self, a blog that might, hopefully, be a bit more helpful to other writers.

Since then, I’ve let go of the LiveJournal blog, because, well–TWO WAS CRAZY, but also because I realized I can’t really split off the personal and professional parts of my writing path. Not very well, anyway, and definitely not helpful.

Anyway…in mulling over what I do here, etc, I took another look at the title and thought, okay…what does that mean? I have a sense; we probably all have a sense, but I realized I’ve never talked about the title here and what it means to me.

Until today.

Off the top of my head, there are two elements to my writing path–the craft lane and what I call the profession lane (not much liking to get into success/non-success talk!). Today I’m going to talk about my craft lane. Then another day, maybe next Thankful Thursday, I’ll move to the other side of the road and talk profession.

Because, it is, for me, about being thankful. My writing, wherever it came from, is one of the biggest gifts I’ve ever received.

Here are some of the steps/stages I’ve taken on the craft path. See if any of them sound familiar to you!

  • Writing what I read.
    I’m not talking here about writing in the genre we love, but rather that all-important first step of mimicry, flattery-by-imitation, derivative work. For me, this stage started when I was young and mostly took the form of starting a different fantasy story every week, pretty much based on whatever novel I was immersed in at the moment. You can see more about that here. This is a stage I think most writers go through, at some point, and it’s not a matter for embarrassment or shame. It’s part of learning the craft.
  • Writing for assignments.
    This is what I did in school. I chose a college that had a concentration in Creative Writing and I wrote short stories and novel chapters and poetry. A teacher would assign a topic, and I would write. This was the stage in which I found out about writing for deadline and writing on task, and when I learned that I could do that. Creatively.
  • Committing to a project.
    For many, many years I was a mystery writer. I was writing a mystery. I started it when I was living in Los Angeles, brought it with me when I moved to the Bay Area, added a toddler character after my twin nephews were born, and dumped that character when they were teens. I took this mystery to critique group, I revised and rewrote, and I honed my skills on writing scenes, developing characters, planting clues, and creating tension. And then I got a better idea.
  • Falling in Love.
    I took a workshop from April Kihlstrom about writing a Book in a Week. While I was there, I was jotting notes about a new idea, a kids’ mystery with a hero and a sidekick that kept interrupting my focus being inspired by April, and telling me to write about them. Which I did. That book got written and revised and dispatched to look for a home.
  • Stretching and Growing.
    Up until this stage of the path, I was a one-idea writer. I had one idea, I wrote about one idea, and I pushed down the panicky voice telling me that this limit said something bad about my creativity/my ability as a writer. Then, I got a chance at nonfiction, a young woman told me she HAD to have a fictional role in a certain historical moment, a mythical creature said it was finally time to put him into a picture book, and that old fantasy love reared its sweet head again. And I find myself wondering not just when I’ll fit it all in, but–more importantly–about where on the craft part of my writing path all these projects will take me.

Because I do believe that I could not be taking any of these steps without the ones that have come before. Maybe path isn’t the right word. Maybe bridge would be better. (I’m SO not changing the site title!). As much as we want the superhero cape and powers that would let us leap those tall buildings and smash through the brick walls, we don’t have those. Thankfully, though, we have brains–incredible tools that grow new synapses and zap out new electrical connections and let us grow in ways that are, frankly, unbelievable.

Think back. What have you done that’s led you to today? What steps on your writing path have brought you to this curve, this fork in the road that you’re just starting to peer around?

To quote one of my favorite heroes, “The road goes ever on and on.”  Thank goodness.

Posted in Writing Fears

Somebody Else Says: The Other Sixth-Letter-of-the-Alphabet Word

Some of you already know that I took on something new this month–developing an online how-to-critique course for Writer’s Digest. Exciting. Fun. Different. Scary.

What’s the word? “Fear.”

Luckily for me, I have wonderful critique partners and writing friends who pat me on the back and keep me going. And a seriously great, patient editor to work with who lets me shoot her off a sample every few days, as a reality check, so I can get the relief and confidence back when she tells me “Yes!”

Anyway, I watched with amazement as last weeks nervousness FEAR turned into that other old enemy–procrastination. I’m sure I’m not the only one out here to whom this happens. So thought I’d throw up a few links that talk about the whys and hows and the fixes.

And then I’ll GET BACK TO WORK. 🙂

Here’s to the new projects you’re all taking on these days. And here’s to reminding yourself that you can do them.

Posted in First Drafts, Getting Organized, The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide

Writing Backward

I made a discovery this weekend. Or, rather, a re-discovery, because this little piece of knowledge is something I’ve learned before, utilized many times, and–of course–forgotten until I had a need for it again.

Sometimes, its easier to write backward.

When I was in college, I did try and come up with that all-important thesis statement that drives an essay. After that, though, I would often write in this order:

  1. Conclusion
  2. Body paragraphs
  3. Intro paragraph
  4. Revision of that thesis statement that wasn’t quite right after all.

Why backward? Because sometimes you just can’t know how you’re getting somewhere, until you’ve been.

This last week, between dodging raindrops, staying afoot in huge winds, and lighting LOTS of candles, I got the outline and marketing/course information written for an online critique class that Writer’s Digest will be offering in December. This weekend, I started on the lessons. They’ll build on what I’ve written in The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, teaching critique tools and skills by having students critique first chapters or scenes from their classmates.

It took me a bit to focus in, but then I remember the backward writing. Which, in this case, took the form of developing–first–the bulleted list of questions the reader should ask themselves as they critique, and–second–writing the introductory text to set up those bullets. MUCH better.

As I worked, though, I was thinking about the other ways & times that backward writing is the form of choice. And here’s what I came up with:

  • Getting your hero to their scene goal and then figuring out the path they took.
  • Writing the fight scene between two (or three) characters, and then working out the scenes that will build in tension to that moment
  • Working out the climax of your novel first, so you know what’s the most important choice your hero will have to make
  • Developing exercises for your how-to book, to focus on your reader’s practical goal, before writing the guide’s main content
  • Writing the conclusion to your magazine article, to hone in on the one thing your should take away from the piece
  • Playing with the resolution to your memoir, to get closer to the theme of your personal story

Obviously, writing this way will not work every time. The opposite tact is to write through an entire draft–from start to finish, or skipping through the middle–to grow your own understanding of your project. I find that this backward style works best when I’m stuck, when I’m staring at the lead-in or some place in that vast middle of a project and not knowing what to write. Jumping ahead–flipping the coin over–gives me a jump-start, a different angle from which to see things.

And then, I find, I’m writing.

What about you? What did I miss? When do you decide to step off the linear, straightforward path and take a look at what the end can tell you about the beginning?

Posted in Uncategorized

Powerless

A storm that I heard described as the worst October storm in the Bay Area since 1962 left us without electricity (OR INTERNET!) for 3 days. Which, really, felt like more. I am such a wimp.

Anyway, as they say, we at this blog have been experiencing SERIOUS technical difficulties, consisting of working at the local coffeehouse (AKA “Downtown office” for all mountain folk without power), pouring milk down the sink and buying small cartons for cereal, lighting candles, playing board games and reading out loud (Got the chance to introduce son to Firoozeh Dumas’ Funny in Farsi–he loved it!), and various and sundry other activities I’m not going to detail here and that you don’t want met to.

Thankfully, last night and all night, PG&E was working just up the hill from our house to take OUT the broken pole that feeds the six house on our road and replace it with a nice, new WORKING pole. They left at about 4:00 a.m, and–even though we only slept intermittently with the noise and the lights–we are VERY grateful. Especially, yes, for the HOT SHOWERS!

Regular service on this blog will continue next week. Same bat time, same bat channel, folks!

Posted in Bravery, The Writing Path, Writing Fears

Opening Those Closed Doors

I come from a long-lived family. I got to know three of my grandparents well into my thirties, and both of my grandmothers made it past 90. I was lucky in many ways to have them in my life, but one of the more shallow ways in which I like to look at that luck was that, truly, I got to put middle-age off for quite a while. (Do the math. Divide 93 by 2. Forty is NOT middle-age.)

Still, somewhere in the past few years, I got there. And, yes, twisted ankles take quite a while to heal; finding a comfortable & decent-looking pair of jeans takes even longer. On the flip side, it hardly takes any time, once I’ve curled up with a book, for me to fall asleep!

And there are days when I look ahead and feel like I need to race a whole lot faster if I want to do all the things I…want to do.

But I’m finding a big plus to being a person “of a certain age.” And that is that I believe in more possibilities than I did when I was younger.

When I left college, I decided that I was not a good enough writer to get into an MFA problem. This wasn’t low self-esteem; I’m pretty sure I was right. Unfortunately, I used that decision to do something we should never do…close a door. For too many years after that, I puttered with my writing, something that had previously been–since I was about ten years old–one of the most important things in my life. I wrote, or I said I was writing, but I drifted from project to project, with long gaps in between, and never getting further along than a beginning. If that.

Sometime in my thirties, I decided I was missing out and moved writing back up to a priority. The years off had put a dent in my confidence, though, had made me view myself as less of a Writer, had made me unsure if I had the skill or commitment to really produce anything. I wrote and I joined critique groups, and I wrote some more. And gradually, I began to take myself seriously enough to move steadily forward. That door was open, and I dared (and still dare) anybody to push aside the boulder I’ve got keeping it that way.

I thought this was it. I thought this was all the looking back I needed to do, that there were no other doors–in terms of my writing–that I needed to unlock.

Then just the other day I saw another door. It was tucked far into a corner. The bulb at that end of the room must have burned out, because I’ve passed that door a gazillion times in the last ten years and not even noticed it. I did hear some tapping, so muffled and quiet, I didn’t even realize something was trying to get in. A few authors I’ve been reading lately–Naomi Novik, Jim Butcher, Laini Taylor joined in, bringing the tapping up to a loud knocking. Then, finally, with a huge DUH!, my brain got it.

This was the fantasy door.

Basically, in junior high, I went straight from kids’ books and required classics to fantasy–via Tolkien and McCaffrey and Brooks and anyone else who fed my craving for elves and wizards and dragons and dark forests and sword fights. I never even heard of fan fiction until people went crazy with Harry Potter, and I never thought of sharing stories with my friends, but that’s what I was writing. Every story I started had someone with a long, white beard who spoke profoundly and made no sense. I didn’t read my work out loud, but you can bet every single character spoke with a beautiful British accent. My heroes communicated by mind with unicorns and dragons; they turned from poverty-stricken, hard-working peasants into powerful bearers of heretofore unknown magic.

You get the point.

And then–I can’t tell you when or why–I shut that door. I have a feeling it was the same kind of decision as the MFA one–I wasn’t good enough yet, so I wasn’t good enough.

Oh, all the things this writer “of a certain age” that I am now wants to say to that young girl writer…

Luckily, as I said, somehow getting older has taught me to stop putting limits on my future. I don’t know if I will ever write a fantasy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come up with something non-derivative, completely my own.

But I do know that, as of a week ago, there is a folder in my filing cabinet labeled FANTASY. And in that folder, there are a few slips of paper, with just a few scribbled notes on them. Ideas.

Possibilities.

What doors have you closed and either forgotten about or too stubbornly ignored? Is it time, perhaps, to go oil the lock and hunt out the key?

Posted in Character, First Drafts

Friday Five: Hey, Mama!

One of my wonderful critique partners pointed out the other day, in a very nice way, that my MC’s mother is NOT very clearly drawn. Yes, I’m still writing that rough first draft, so this is to be expected. BUT…the mother is also the main antagonist. So, really, it would help if I understood her a little better than I do, to keep moving forward with all the scenes she’s in.

Today, the five questions I’m going to ask my MC’s mother.

1. What is your goal for each of your three children?

2. What is your definition of safety?

3. Why did you marry your husband?

4. What do you do, after your son’s accident, to make sure the rest of your family stays safe?

5. Are you glad, now, that you left Russia to come to Chicago? Why?

She’s been awfully quiet up until now. Let’s hope she’ll speak up and give me some answers.

Which character have you been letting hide away in the background? What do you need to find out about them before your story can be told?

Posted in Dialogue, First Drafts, Revision

Dialogue: My Least Favorite/Most Favorite Writing Tool

What’s the toughest thing for me to write? Dialogue. What’s the writing element I probably revise the most? Dialogue. What’s my favorite, favorite thing to read in a book? Good dialogue.

(Hint: I’ve been reading & rereading some of S.J. Rozan’s Lydia Chin books. You want great, snappy, fast, real, funny character-specific dialogue? Go pick up some of this series.)

Usually, when I talk about dialogue, I put a lot of emphasis on the dialogue beats–the brief bits of action, reaction, or internal thought that surround the spoken words. Just ask my critique partners. But, in my own writing, I’m actually okay with that part. It seems to come smoothly and simply from my brain into the computer. It’s the actual words the characters are saying that I truly struggle with. Through many revisions.

Here’s a common process:

  • First draft, I just have them saying all the wrong things. I haven’t quite figured out a character’s scene goal or conflict and so I stick in some words, any words, just because I know I need some dialogue there.
  • Next draft, those words just disappear. I get closer to the things these people should be talking about, arguing about, but-oh, boy–are the new words clunky. Think a really bad ventriloquist. Or the villain with the big moustache in a melodrama.
  • Next draft, I’m smoothing things out. Characters are talking more like people, less like puppets. Except, often, they’re all talking like the same person.
  • Next draft, I work on differentiation. Again, I go through a clunky phase, using the same words too often or pushing phraseology too far toward an extreme. Finally, I start to see true individual traits and styles come through.

And it goes on from there. Sound familiar to anyone?

So why do I say that dialogue is my least andmost favorite tool? Because, when you get it right, it’s magic. Like Rozan’s. Good dialogue has more power in it than any amount of description or internal thought. It conveys story information, delivers characterization, causes conflict, and makes us laugh and cry.

And achieving that, in our own stories, is more than worth the struggle.

Posted in Revising, Somebody Else Says, Uncategorized

Somebody Else Says: Beth Revis

Beth Revis’ Writing it Out blog is one of the regulars on my read list. She’s got a couple of posts this week that I wanted to share. She’s looking back at her latest BIG revision, and she’s posted about the things that did and didn’t work (with ideas about how to fix the latter, next time around). Beth has really thought this out and–while I’m not sure all her steps would work for me–she’s got some great ideas and analysis of the process.

Stop by and check out these posts:

Posted in First Drafts, Getting Organized, Organization, Outlining, Plot, Scenes

Thursday’s Target-A Rainbow of Sticky Notes

Yesterday, I reread Robin LaFevers post on index cards. Then I went out and bought some sticky notes. Two packs. Five colors each.

Because I’m confused.

Not from Robin’s post. From my own plot. Too confused to know what to write next. So I’m trying something that occasionally works for me, but only occasionally–going visual.

My MC has three (maybe four) possible paths. Well, in all likelihood, she’ll follow all the paths somewhere in the story. I think. At the end, though, she has to choose one. I know this. I even know WHICH path she’ll choose. I also know (darn it!) that I can’t just lay these paths out sequentially or in parallel, which is how they’re feeling in my brain right now. No, I have to weave them.

Which means I need connections. Overlaps. Characters with more than one role. Layers.

I know, these come in revision. And I’m still on the first draft. Well, actually, I’m just a bit stalled on the first draft.

I think writer’s block may actually be this kind of stall–and maybe more aptly named writer’s jam. It’s not that I don’t have any ideas. It’s not that I can’t see my MC acting, going places, talking to people. It’s that I have LOTS of ideas, lots of action, people, and places. But they’re all crowded together, like I’ve poured them into one of those cake-icing bags–the ones that narrow down to a tiny hole. And all the ideas are trying to get out that hole…at the same time.

So I’m going to play with my sticky notes today, on my whiteboard, and try to come up with some pattern that shows me what to focus on. What to pull out of the hat next. I’m going to use a different color for every scene on one of those three (four?) paths and then try to move things around. (Yes, I know I said I had 10 colors. Hey, you never know!)  Hopefully, I’ll get THE idea that lets me move forward.

What do you do when you need a “lightbulb moment”?