As the 2009 winds down, I am immersing myself in the lives of two women of the Prairie State. Articles, journals, books all hold clues to why these women are important enough to write about. Sifting through to find the gems is like prospecting. I search for the detail that will hook my reader. I want something more than the obvious, something that shows how this woman thinks, what drives her to accomplish her dream. Finally, the detail jumps out at me. I know how to begin writing.
Happy New Year!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
sea of stories
“Nothing comes from nothing, Thieflet; no story comes from nowhere; new stories are born from old – it is the new combinations that make them new.” So says Iff the Water Genie to Haroun in Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie.
We’ve heard that before and what an incentive for a writer to read! More stories are fodder for new combinations. Here are stories I have enjoyed in 2009.
The Freedom Business – Marilyn Nelson
The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Graveyard Book – Neil Gaimon
Rules – Cynthia Lord
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society – Mary Ann Schaffer
The People of the Book – Geraldine Brooks
A River of Words, the Story of William Carlos Williams – Jen Bryant
Rearranging – David Gifaldi
Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet – Jamie Ford
Lost – Jacqueline Davies
Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy – Gary Schmidt
Traveling With Pomegranates – Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor
Black Pearls – Louise Hawes
We’ve heard that before and what an incentive for a writer to read! More stories are fodder for new combinations. Here are stories I have enjoyed in 2009.
The Freedom Business – Marilyn Nelson
The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Graveyard Book – Neil Gaimon
Rules – Cynthia Lord
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society – Mary Ann Schaffer
The People of the Book – Geraldine Brooks
A River of Words, the Story of William Carlos Williams – Jen Bryant
Rearranging – David Gifaldi
Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet – Jamie Ford
Lost – Jacqueline Davies
Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy – Gary Schmidt
Traveling With Pomegranates – Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor
Black Pearls – Louise Hawes
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
writing blind
Midway through the Advent season of waiting, I’m still waiting to send cards, get a tree, sew the doll clothes, and figure out a gift or two. I’m also waiting to finish the story of Hildegard that I have struggled off and on with for eight years.
My inner critic slows down the story and prevents the free flow of words. “You could think of a better word choice.” “Does this story even have a plot?” “You’re telling, not showing.” “This character is too shallow.” Why aren’t you using all the senses?” The voice asking these questions stops me cold. I begin to address the immediate problem rather than move the story forward. My inner critic keeps me from producing the volume of words that I need to discover the story.
YA author Norma Fox Mazer sometimes typed with a hat pulled down over her eyes. She may have been putting herself in her characters’ world, shutting out distractions or both. This week I discovered a technique that quiets my inner critic and allows me to pound out the first draft without thinking too much. I extend my laptop screen all the way back and cover it with paper. So simple! When I worked with a desk monitor, it never occurred to me to drape a cloth over the screen.
By covering the screen, I can’t focus on the words. My eyes see story images instead. No more waiting for an inner critic to approve a first draft. Later, she can help me craft and polish the words.
My inner critic slows down the story and prevents the free flow of words. “You could think of a better word choice.” “Does this story even have a plot?” “You’re telling, not showing.” “This character is too shallow.” Why aren’t you using all the senses?” The voice asking these questions stops me cold. I begin to address the immediate problem rather than move the story forward. My inner critic keeps me from producing the volume of words that I need to discover the story.
YA author Norma Fox Mazer sometimes typed with a hat pulled down over her eyes. She may have been putting herself in her characters’ world, shutting out distractions or both. This week I discovered a technique that quiets my inner critic and allows me to pound out the first draft without thinking too much. I extend my laptop screen all the way back and cover it with paper. So simple! When I worked with a desk monitor, it never occurred to me to drape a cloth over the screen.
By covering the screen, I can’t focus on the words. My eyes see story images instead. No more waiting for an inner critic to approve a first draft. Later, she can help me craft and polish the words.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
goodbye to stick season
Fine snow drives down, piling up in the tree crotches and capping the birdhouses. As I work on Hildegard, I’m re-reading Stein on Writing by Sol Stein. He says triage is the way to revise. Tackle major matters first.
Are the characters alive and well-rounded? Both protagonist and antagonist need to have positive and negatives qualities. Minor characters need at least one special characteristic.
Make sure the conflict is credible. Does the plot need to be strengthened?
Compare the most memorable scene with the least memorable. What makes the first work well? If the least memorable scene can’t be fixed, cut it! Keep testing the next least memorable scenes until the scenes that are left create a strong story.
Are the three most important actions in the book well motivated? Motivation is caused by circumstance or planted ahead of the action. Check all important actions for poor motivation.
Finally, read the first page only. Make sure there is a compelling reason to turn the page.
After the triage work of the writer, the manuscript is ready for general revision. Read through with the eyes of the reader and the editor. Tighten. Transpose. No purple prose!
Are the characters alive and well-rounded? Both protagonist and antagonist need to have positive and negatives qualities. Minor characters need at least one special characteristic.
Make sure the conflict is credible. Does the plot need to be strengthened?
Compare the most memorable scene with the least memorable. What makes the first work well? If the least memorable scene can’t be fixed, cut it! Keep testing the next least memorable scenes until the scenes that are left create a strong story.
Are the three most important actions in the book well motivated? Motivation is caused by circumstance or planted ahead of the action. Check all important actions for poor motivation.
Finally, read the first page only. Make sure there is a compelling reason to turn the page.
After the triage work of the writer, the manuscript is ready for general revision. Read through with the eyes of the reader and the editor. Tighten. Transpose. No purple prose!
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
still stick season
Last night I walked the woods path. The moonlight frosted those tenacious beech leaves, giving the illusion of snow. But bare pine needles and cones crunched under my feet. It’s still stick season.
The sticks cast long shadows. High in a tree, a noise squeaked intermittently. The scene reminded me of Carl Sandburg’s words: “Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.” Sandburg came up with many metaphors about poetry, “the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits,” but I like the echo metaphor.
A line or a phrase won’t go away. It begs for attention, and when I try to capture its importance, it’s like a shadow whose real essence is impossible to capture. I begin to draft the poem, and it’s like learning to dance. I discover the right words, find the rhythm, and create a partnership between the idea and what it means. When I get it right, the echo dances with the shadow instead of bouncing of my brain cells.
The sticks cast long shadows. High in a tree, a noise squeaked intermittently. The scene reminded me of Carl Sandburg’s words: “Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.” Sandburg came up with many metaphors about poetry, “the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits,” but I like the echo metaphor.
A line or a phrase won’t go away. It begs for attention, and when I try to capture its importance, it’s like a shadow whose real essence is impossible to capture. I begin to draft the poem, and it’s like learning to dance. I discover the right words, find the rhythm, and create a partnership between the idea and what it means. When I get it right, the echo dances with the shadow instead of bouncing of my brain cells.
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