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Posted in Plot

Surprise!

I talk often to other writers about plotting. And not-plotting. And how much we do. And whether it’s an outline or a chart. And so on and so on…

If you read my blog at all, this probably isn’t news to you, but I’ll put it out here anyway. Hi, I’m Becky, and I’m a plotter.

I plot a lot–from the overall story arc to what’s going to happen in any individual scene. I don’t tackle a revision without looking at my existing plot and seeing where I need to make changes. And then I do it all over again as I revise each scene.

Yes, it’s about control. I need some sense of where I’m going, before I start trying to get there. I’m sure that I need a stronger sense of that than a lot of writers.

BUT…

I truly believe that understanding is what helps me loosen up as I write and let in the surprises.

And, oh, the surprises come. I’ve got a plan for my hero to argue, and instead she goes stone-cold silent with anger. I figure out which character is going to create an obstacle, and suddenly that character is all support and friendship, while someone else steps up to punch my hero in the gut. I pick a setting for its peacefulness and calm, and suddenly all hellamundo is breaking loose.

Yes, there are surprises that aren’t so wonderful: characters I forget to weave into the story who stand there like cold statues, doing nothing. Gaps where I realize I’ve leapt way too far ahead, without building to my hero’s choice or action. And of course, those moments where I realize–oh, BLEEP!–that history doesn’t support the storyline I’ve got going.

Those surprises, I believe, are the cost of leaving room for the others. If it were even possible for me to plot so tightly that I wouldn’t run into any dead-ends, or twisty mazes, I don’t think my characters would have room to step in and take charge. I don’t think they’d be able to shout loud enough to get my attention.

I’m not going to get her wording right, I’m sure, but Martha Alderson talks about plot as the vessel that exists to catch your inspiration. Yes, my plot-box probably has more sections than yours.

Maybe your plot has a beginning, a great crisis, and three bad things across the middle. Maybe you’re one of those writers I so envy who create a seriously strong one-sentence premise and write from that. Maybe your container looks more like this:

 Whatever we use, however much we plot, I really believe it’s all good. Whatever you have that gives you the freedom to let the words come, keep using it. And enjoy the surprises!

Posted in Uncategorized

Five Signs Summer is (Finally!) Here

1. No alarms were set this morning.

2. Doors and windows are being left open. Fans are being contemplated.

3. Son’s band met after school yesterday for the first time in weeks.

4. The pitter-patter of bare feet is being heard.

5. Responsibility for complete meal-prep has fallen off my shoulders, with a loud thunk. Summer motto: “Let them eat cereal!”

Happy Summer!

Posted in Uncategorized

Writing the Scene You’ve Been Avoiding

We all have it: that scene the plot is going to demand, or the one that history requires, or the one that really will push your hero to a new place. Sometimes, it’s fun and exciting, the scene we’ve been waiting to get to, that’s been simmering in our brains all along as we work our way toward it.

And, sometimes, it’s not so fun. Sometimes, it’s stressful.

Maybe it’s a romance scene, and you’re not so comfortable putting that stuff on the page. Maybe it’s an anger scene, and it pushed the buttons on your own emotions and self-control. Maybe it targets something from your childhood, maybe even something that’s the reason you’re writing this book–but that doesn’t make it easy. And maybe it’s a matter of putting your character in a place she needs to be, but a place that you, yourself, would never go.

What do you do?

I’m facing one of those scenes this week. For me, it’s one of the ones that history–the history I’m writing about–is making me write. I’ve known all along that I would probably be writing this scene, but I’ve pushed it away. I didn’t touch it during the first draft. It’s actually an okay situation for my hero, who she is, to be in; it is not a situation I would ever choose for myself. It’s a situation different people in my life have told me I perhaps SHOULD have chosen, or be choosing, so there’s a bit of resentment and resistance to add to the complication. The scene has been in the back of my mind, not ever letting itself be completely ignored, pretty much waiting till I got to the point to say, “Fine. Okay. You’re in.”

Or to the point where the story said…”Here.”

I’ve written up to the point where the scene needs to be included. It’s the right time, I think, for my hero to participate. Does that make it easier? Well, actually, yes. Because now the scene has a plot and character purpose; it’s going to do more than just layer in an element of history. And waiting until I got to this point, until the story caught up with the idea, has given me (I think!) a way in. I can see what the scene will do for my character, and how it will complicate her life, instead of mine. I can see her attitude about things, which–yes, has a piece of my attitude, but is most importantly going to be true to her. I think. Waiting…and writing until I was ready, has given me time to get to know my hero and to at least find a point where I can understand and empathize with what she’ll be feeling. And how she’ll be acting.

A point where it won’t be all about me. 🙂

So if you’ve got one of those scenes looming, even in the distance, try not to fret too much. Don’t force yourself to drop it in somewhere just because you know it’s necessary, and don’t spend too much time arguing with yourself about whether to include it at all. Let it sit out there for a while. At some point, I believe, your scene and your story will intersect.

And that’s the time to write it.

Posted in Uncategorized

What Writing Process? Or…When Your Second Draft Feels More Like a First

I’m working on the second draft of my historical YA. Last week, I passed the 50-page mark and did a little dance of joy. Partially because of the page count, but in a big way, because the writing of that week’s scenes had gone so well. As in fast. With the words pouring out.

Yeah, like a first draft.

It’s the second draft, so maybe you’re thinking you should be asking me this: But aren’t you revising? Well, yes. And, no.

Back here, when I finished Draft 1, I talked about the big discovery of that draft-that I had two stories going, not one. With, very possibly, two different heroes. In other words, two books.

So, yes, in a way, I’m revising–I am working with a seriously different plot. My hero’s goal has become much more sharply defined. (Um, maybe because she’s not as confused as I was during the whole last draft?!) So, story? Yes, that’s in the revision stage.

Scenes? Not so much. Yes, my plot has my hero going to some of the same places, meeting the same people, having similar arguments as she did before. But the focus/angle/slant/WHATEVER of these scenes-the why she’s there and the where she needs to go after–that’s all different. So different that I’m not opening up a single original scene to make changes in. I’m writing new.

Could I beat myself up about this? Oh, yeah, I so could. I could tell myself that I should have written that first-first draft ten times as fast. I could tell myself that I still haven’t done reasearch to the point I thought I needed to, to make myself happy writing this draft. I could tell myself that I didn’t learn a thing about who my hero was the first time through; I only learned about who she wasn’t. I could look at the calendar and beat myself up for how soon this draft isn’t going to be done. I could do all that, if I let myself get sucked into the idea that there is one way to write a book, even just one way for a particular writer to write a book.

Which, of course, there isn’t.

So, I’m diving back into scenes this week, and I’m going to write my somewhere-in-the-middle-of-a-first-and-second-draft version of story. And you know what else I’m going to do? I’m going to enjoy the ride.

Here’s to you and whatever your writing process may be…this week! 🙂

Posted in Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Living Where I Do

Where I worked yesterday afternoon:

We’ve been in this house almost twenty years now, which is hard to believe, except that, yes, my son is fifteen, so it adds up. We went out for donuts one morning and ended up talking to a realtor and scheduling an appointment “just to look.” We were looking at the lower end of housing in the Bay Area, which still–at that time–sounded pretty frightening. And some of what we saw was frightening.

And then we walked into this house. It was built in the twenties, which is older on the west coast than it is on the east. We think the heater is from the 40s. Insulation? Not so much. Somebody splattered a lot of yellow paint and wallpaper around in the seventies. But…wood everywhere. Old hardwood on the floors, cedar on the living room walls, and “gingerbread” trim near the ceiling. (We knew right away the gingerbread had to go, but, hey, guess what heated the house our first winter there?) An enclosed space under the house, including a canning room that was the perfect size for my husband’s office. Hey, he’s the one that said, “Can I have this room?” And a dining room that was huge. Our response? Hey, who needs a dining room? And, voila, I had an office, too.

There was work to be done. Luckily, my husband is an engineer who can both design and build, and who does absolutely beautiful work. He broke down the wall between the living room and kitchen, built an island around a “previously owned” Wolf oven,  and created a gorgeous kitchen. We got rid of lots of ugly wallpaper, did some drywall and some painting, and got settled.

That was the part I helped with…a little. My husband has never stopped. This past week he built the Adirondack chairs in the photograph, and he’s replacing the plain lamps in the kitchen with ones he’s building himself–building and cutting patterns in and painting with copper paint and adding stained-glass shields to cut the glare from the lightbulbs. They’re beautiful.

I wasn’t sure where this post was going when I started. I thought it was about Spring and writing outside and having this wonderful courtyard (did I mention my husband built that, too?) to sit in while I blog. But I think it’s turning into a gratitude post, both for the house I live in, and for the guy who said to me one day, “How do you feel about living in the mountains?”

Who knew?

Posted in Uncategorized

Darkness Too Visible: My Take on Meghan Cox Gurdon’s WSJ Editorial

Okay, so I don’t always weigh in on these attacks on YA novels as too dark, too grim, but the talk around the Internet and the #YAsaves hashtag on Twitter caught my attention, and I clicked over and read the article. Which, obviously, is the first thing to do. So here’s the link for you, if you want to check it out.

Darkness Too Visible

I don’t always weigh in, because I don’t feel like I have been “saved” by young-adult lit. I had a safe, sheltered, happy childhood. I had safe, sheltered, basically content teen years, marred only by my struggle with shyness. I did not go through any of the experiences that, yes, the authors Gurdon cites do write about. So I don’t, as others have, recognize myself or my circumstances in these books–not in that big, important, life-saving way.

I thank my parents and my luck for that, pretty much every day of my life.

I actually read Gurdon’s editorial a couple of times, going back and giving a few paragraphs a third pass, because I was struggling to figure out her point. I wasn’t sure what she wanted.  I felt a bit like when I’m critiquing, and I ask the author what their MC’s goal is, what they’re after. Because, while Gurdon criticizes the things being written, complains about the covers on those books; honestly, the article felt like a book review. A non-complimentary book review, but still. What’s her purpose in all these put-downs?

I think, ultimately, she is saying we shouldn’t share information about what really happens in life with our kids, at least not through novels. She doesn’t deny that the world YA often (not always, for pete’s sake!) depicts exists. She doesn’t deny that there are nasty people out there doing nasty things to kids. She even uses the example of a Lauren Myracle book that depicts “the aftermath of an assault on a gay teenager.” Well, unless we’ve been living as ostriches, we all know this kind of assault is happening to gay teens all too often. Guess what: my son knows it’s happening. And, again, I am thankful for that–because it’s important. He should know. Do I force him to read about it? No. It’s his choice.

Choice, people. This is where I get confused about the whole editorial. Because Gurdon’s last line is this: “No family is obliged to acquiesce when publishers use the vehicle of fundamental free-expression principles to try to bulldoze coarseness or misery into their children’s lives.”

Duh. No family is obliged. So…um, let it go.  I don’t buy pink-covered books with sparkly hearts all over them for my 15-year-old son, just because someone wrote that book, someone published it, and someone put that cover on it. I buy him books I think he’ll like and respond to. And, guess what, I let him pick out his own books, too. Because…he’s a teenager. And, much as I might wish I did, I don’t know everything that’s going on in his life and his head, and I can’t take care of and solve his every need. Not. Going. To. Happen.

And, really, I haven’t seen any publisher trying to bulldoze a reader, anyway. I think they’re smarter than that. Cuz, really, what happens when you try to bulldoze a teen? You lose. The covers Gurdon is complaining about? The ones she worries are tempting kids to read things they “shouldn’t?” I think those are probably about marketing, sure, but I’ll take marketing if it means a kid who is in trouble doesn’t have to hunt and dig to find something she needs, something that can help her do what I didn’t need to: recognize that she isn’t alone, recognize that maybe she could talk to someone. I’ll take anything that stops this stuff being buried and kept secret, that stops the victims from feeling like they have to stay hidden. If it was my son–please, no–who had something like this to deal with and didn’t feel like he could share it with me, I’d want him to find that book. I’d want him to get help.

For me, YA isn’t all about the bad stuff. I read and write YA, because for me, it’s about a time in life that is and should be amazing. It’s a time of opportunities and choices and freedom to figure out who you are and do something about it. It’s a stage in life that, for me, came later-because of that shyness I talked about above. I read YA with awe at the teens who have a strength and power I could have only wished for at that age. Does Gurdon not SEE the strength in those characters? Does she not SEE how those teens take on the worst that can possibly happen to a person (and that does happen) and how they survive? I guess not. Which, ultimately, makes me feel sorry for her.

But still mad. Oh, yeah, still mad. Mostly, I think, because of that book-review feel the editorial has. Gurdon is a good writer; she knows how to organize her thoughts, how to analyze a book and pull examples out of it, how to write a clear sentence. But I feel like she’s used this writing, this review structure, to pretty up what is still a nasty, narrow vision of who our kids are and what they have the right to read…to choose. Basically, I don’t like how she’s wrapped up her views. I don’t like her cover. And I don’t much like what’s inside it.

But guess what? I didn’t tell her not to write it. And I made my own choice about whether or not to read it. Because that is how it’s supposed to work.

Posted in Uncategorized

Friday Five: Back into History

When I’m researching, I (hopefully) am answering questions. On the other hand, one of the ways you know I’m actually writing, is when I’m coming UP with those questions. Just to prove that I did actually get back into my historical YA this week and write two new scenes, here are a few questions that I have yet to answer. And that make me happy for the existence of brackets and critique-partners who are more than patient with placeholders.

1. Did teenage girls in 1912 keep handkerchiefs handy for wiping tears away? And was my MC that kind of girl, or would she–you know-just use her sleeve?

2. Did blackboards (not called chalkboards yet!) come with actual erasers in 1912? Or would the teacher use a cloth of some sort? No, probably not a handkerchief.

3. What was a German/German-Jewish comfort food (for dinner) that would have come over to America with immigrants in the 1860s? And, yes, this probably means a reread of 97 Orchard for me. Oh, darn.

4. In what way would a toy train in the 1900s/1910s break frequently and be quickly re-fixable? You know, with something handy like a darning needle?

5. Did girls in 1912 high schools pass notes back & forth? Okay, yes, I probably know the answer to that already, but wouldn’t it be fun to find a scene in someone’s memoir for proof?

Fun stuff. Not stopping writing to fill in the details yet. One new research book on the way, and only half a dozen or so unread on the home shelves. I’ve really missed Caro the past few weeks, and it is SO good to be back in her world. Even if I don’t know all about that world…yet!

Posted in Uncategorized

Letting the Story Flow

There are days, like I’ve had this week, when the words come. When you have an idea of what  needs to happen and who might be doing it, and you open a scene, and you write that scene.

It feels great.

If you’re not careful, though, that evil editor is going to be hanging around saying, “Are these the right words? Is this really what needs to happen here? Will this scene connect up with the rest of the story.”

My thought for the day: It’s okay to say, “I DON’T KNOW.” Loudly. And with pride.

It’s really just another way of accepting Anne Lamott’s shitty first draft. (Or, as in my case, a second draft with lots of new material!).

There’s a reason, I think, why the words that are coming out of you feel good, even if they’re not words you’ll ultimately keep. It’s because they’re something. They’re the mess you’re making that you’re going to be able to work with later, that you’ll pull pieces out of to keep and throw away big piles of.

So let yourself enjoy the feeling. Don’t question it more than you have to, and don’t let the little worrying voice in your head tell you to stop. Do. Not. Stop.

Write.

Posted in Educational Nonfiction, Nonfiction

Thankful Thursday: Yay for Experts

One of the things I’m getting better at as I get older is finding experts to help me along my way. Sometimes, as with my accountant, this means asking someone with a skill to do something I’m not only lousy at, but that I truly hate. At other times, it’s a matter of finding someone further along a path I actually want to go down, and getting some professional advice.

Which is what I did this month.

I’ve talked a few times about wanting to break into writing nonfiction educational books for kids. I’ve written some samples that I’m pretty happy with, but when I was getting ready to put a package together to submit, I started thinking. And what I thought was this

  • I think I can guess at how I might want to put this all together.
  • I’m pretty sure I can write a decent and basically professional cover letter.
  • I can take a stab at which samples I should submit.

And then I thought: Hey, I could get some help on this.

So I went to Mentors for Rent.

Laura Purdie Salas and Lisa Bullard have both been writing educational books for years, and they’ve started a new service where they are offering to help out us beginners…via Skype. Their prices are more than reasonable, especially when you consider you’re getting the benefit of two writers’ knowledge & experience.

I had some very specific things I wanted to accomplish, mostly around the best way to package what I have and who I am. We went back & forth a few times by email on how best to organize our time around my needs, and Laura & Lisa were more than helpful in working this out. I ended up sending them my whole package–including samples, cover letter, and resume. They spent half “our” time critiquing the pieces, then sent me back the critiques before our Skype meeting, so I could figure out what questions I had. Then we Skyped for the rest of the scheduled time.

How did it go? Beautifully. The critiques hit on some points that are really going to improve my package, and our Skype session helped me see the best way to present myself, to (hopefully!) move me and my submissions to the top of the editors’ slush piles, to show that I’m someone they definitely want to work with. Laura & Lisa helped me understand how “pushy” I can and probably should be, which is a tough point for me to get to. They talked to me about the industry and what editors are looking for and helped me realize that 1) I fit into that picture and that 2) It’s way more than okay to demonstrate that in my letter.

Was my session worth the time and money? Definitely! Laura and Lisa’s service is the perfect example of the right time to invest in productivity and efficiency, to take a “shortcut” around all that waffling we do on our own when we’re stepping into something new. Knowing I would be asking for their help got me moving to pull everything together, and getting that help brought me the focus to move forward with much more confident steps.

So, BIG thanks and an even bigger recommendation for Mentors for Rent!

Posted in Uncategorized

Writer Mama: Final Week of Every-Day-in-May Book Giveaway

If you follow Christina Katz, The Writer Mama, or read her blog, you’re already up on the fact that she’s been giving away a book a day this month. Well, she’s heading into the final stretch, and if you haven’t dropped by yet, it’s worth going over and seeing what’s on offer these last few days.

Christina’s giving away my book, The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, on Saturday, May 28th. If you don’t have a copy yet, or know someone else who needs one, drop by and leave a comment to enter. And make sure to check out the other days, because, well, there are just a lot of good books being handed out!