I decided to be brave--I re-read my fourth draft. It's my best draft yet.
And still, it needs so much work (I was going to say sucks, but I'm thinking positively here).
The beginning is actually pretty good. The ending is not so bad. But the middle--ah, the middle is another story. No, really, it's another story. And that's the problem.
I drift off into some other world, along with my characters. Whole chapters go by where my characters do nothing but think. Characters get dropped or picked up out of nowhere. Still.
Sometimes I wish I had another weakness. Because if you're not so good at plot, that means you have to restructure entire novels when they fall apart. If you stink at say, description or grammar, it doesn't (usually) affect the whole novel very much.
But being good at character has its perks, though. My friend Kelley once said that you can fix almost anything else in a novel as long as you have good characters. And I think she's right. But in my case, I fix it, and fix it, and fix it, and fix it...
I know now, better than ever, what I need to do to fix things. There will still be some tearing apart. But right now, Rocky's worn out from all his fighting, and he just wants to towel off for a while. And, being the nice author I am, I think I'm going to let him.
But don't worry. Rocky's a fighter. He won't stay down for long.
Showing posts with label about writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label about writing. Show all posts
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
All right, all right, I'll blog already!
If you're wondering what happened to my blog lately, wonder no more.
I've been in crisis mode.
It hasn't been pretty.
I think it can all be summed up in these words from an interview in the book Opting Out by Pamela Stone: "I've had enough of being at home, but yet I need to be at home."
The worst of the crisis has passed, which was when I was in my staring-at-nothing phase. All I could do for those few days was sit on the front step, stare into space, and read feminist books.
Then I got into my angry-at-everyone phase. This was where I flew into a rage at anyone who suggested that women had a "role" to do. I may or may not have thrown a certain new blue-covered book for women across the room--I'll let you figure that one out for yourself. Yes, I was mad that I had believed for years that women were supposed to take care of houses and kids once they started having babies, because it wasn't as rosy as I had imagined. But really, I was more mad at myself for not having prepared myself for a career better when I had the chance, and for sitting around feeling sorry for myself instead of making changes.
Now I'm morphing into the now-what phase (though I occasionally still want to take people's heads off when they start talking about the art of homemaking). I've flirted off and on with this phase for years, anyway, you know, checking the classifieds for job listings, counting down the years until M. is in school all day....But now, I'm trying a little harder. I'm querying magazines more aggressively, writing a couple pages in my novel per day, and contacting people I think might be able to help me get to the next step (the work/life field).
But it doesn't feel like I'm doing much. It feels like more of the same. I know it takes time when you're looking for a new direction, but things don't feel much different than they did before since I'm doing the same kinds of things. I know I'm not ready for full-time work yet, but opportunities don't exactly drop from the sky.
So if you know of an opportunity fairy who'd love to drop some freelance work/life-related writing work my way, send her right here. And while you're at it, tell her to bring along that money fairy buddy of hers, too.
I've been in crisis mode.
It hasn't been pretty.
I think it can all be summed up in these words from an interview in the book Opting Out by Pamela Stone: "I've had enough of being at home, but yet I need to be at home."
The worst of the crisis has passed, which was when I was in my staring-at-nothing phase. All I could do for those few days was sit on the front step, stare into space, and read feminist books.
Then I got into my angry-at-everyone phase. This was where I flew into a rage at anyone who suggested that women had a "role" to do. I may or may not have thrown a certain new blue-covered book for women across the room--I'll let you figure that one out for yourself. Yes, I was mad that I had believed for years that women were supposed to take care of houses and kids once they started having babies, because it wasn't as rosy as I had imagined. But really, I was more mad at myself for not having prepared myself for a career better when I had the chance, and for sitting around feeling sorry for myself instead of making changes.
Now I'm morphing into the now-what phase (though I occasionally still want to take people's heads off when they start talking about the art of homemaking). I've flirted off and on with this phase for years, anyway, you know, checking the classifieds for job listings, counting down the years until M. is in school all day....But now, I'm trying a little harder. I'm querying magazines more aggressively, writing a couple pages in my novel per day, and contacting people I think might be able to help me get to the next step (the work/life field).
But it doesn't feel like I'm doing much. It feels like more of the same. I know it takes time when you're looking for a new direction, but things don't feel much different than they did before since I'm doing the same kinds of things. I know I'm not ready for full-time work yet, but opportunities don't exactly drop from the sky.
So if you know of an opportunity fairy who'd love to drop some freelance work/life-related writing work my way, send her right here. And while you're at it, tell her to bring along that money fairy buddy of hers, too.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Old Trauma Time
Sometimes, when you're writing (especially if you're writing about teenagers and/or the place where you grew up), you have to write about something that hits close to home, something that brings back less than pleasant memories.
Here are some of mine, all in one big yellow package:
Photo credit
Maybe some of you city dwellers never had to deal with one of these on a regular basis. But I did, nearly every day.
When I was little, I remember being so, so scared to cross the busy highway after I got off the bus. For a long time, I needed a big kid helper. I remember being terrified that my bus driver, Lorna, would yell at me for doing it wrong.
Then, when I got older, it got even scarier. When you're one of the last people to get on the bus, you don't get many choices about where you sit. And if you're not the popular type, your bus seat status might be less than stellar. People might even refuse to sit by you. So then you have to walk up and down, back and forth, hoping somebody will let you in. Maybe one of the little kids. And then the bus driver has to yell back at all the bus people for someone to let you sit with them.
When you finally sit down, you wait for either someone to find something nasty to say about you, or for the other person to let you know they're not going to talk to you so you'll have to ride the whole way to school in silence, and you're not sure if this is better or worse than what they might say if they spoke to you.
But the thing that makes a school bus worse than a school cafeteria is that whatever people say, they have a built-in audience. Including you. Even if you're not sitting directly beside the mean ones, you're going to hear every insult, and so will everyone else.
Traumatic, you think? Sure, but it's great novel-writing material. And the best part is, my characters get to rise above those mean nasty bus-riding bullies. They can tell them off in a way I never could. That's why the pen is mightier than the sword. It can slay a whole busload of rude, self-absorbed meanies in a single stroke. That school bus is going down, baby.
Here are some of mine, all in one big yellow package:
Photo credit
Maybe some of you city dwellers never had to deal with one of these on a regular basis. But I did, nearly every day.
When I was little, I remember being so, so scared to cross the busy highway after I got off the bus. For a long time, I needed a big kid helper. I remember being terrified that my bus driver, Lorna, would yell at me for doing it wrong.
Then, when I got older, it got even scarier. When you're one of the last people to get on the bus, you don't get many choices about where you sit. And if you're not the popular type, your bus seat status might be less than stellar. People might even refuse to sit by you. So then you have to walk up and down, back and forth, hoping somebody will let you in. Maybe one of the little kids. And then the bus driver has to yell back at all the bus people for someone to let you sit with them.
When you finally sit down, you wait for either someone to find something nasty to say about you, or for the other person to let you know they're not going to talk to you so you'll have to ride the whole way to school in silence, and you're not sure if this is better or worse than what they might say if they spoke to you.
But the thing that makes a school bus worse than a school cafeteria is that whatever people say, they have a built-in audience. Including you. Even if you're not sitting directly beside the mean ones, you're going to hear every insult, and so will everyone else.
Traumatic, you think? Sure, but it's great novel-writing material. And the best part is, my characters get to rise above those mean nasty bus-riding bullies. They can tell them off in a way I never could. That's why the pen is mightier than the sword. It can slay a whole busload of rude, self-absorbed meanies in a single stroke. That school bus is going down, baby.
Friday, May 6, 2011
structure and stuff
While I'm working on Rocky 4.0, if I get a moment to take a breath, sometimes I think about my next book. It's been in the works for a while, but I've been focusing on Rocky. Which is good, 'cause I think concentrating on one book and refining it helps me more as a writer than dozens of scattered projects do.
I've written about 100 pages in the Alzheimer's book, but I was so frustrated with structure. I wanted to include some memories from the past, and have those memories be a major part of the book, but most of the action is to take place in the present. Every time I tried to plan it out, it just wasn't working for me. I tried alternating chapters present/past, but that didn't work because it was obvious from the get-go what had happened in the past. I tried flashback form within the present, but that required lots of awkward transitioning and it wasn't a very balanced novel because so much of the past had to fit into the narrative.
Then I read Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S. King.
Ah, nothing like stealing ideas from another author. It was perfect! This novel is written in scenes instead of full chapters. Some scenes take place in the past, others in the present, and others from someone else's perspective. She starts each scene with a heading telling where and when the action takes place, so no awkward transitions.
So, for my next book, I'll be trying something new. That's right, I'll be abandoning the traditional chapter form completely. But it's the only way it makes sense--a nearly random structure for a book about scattered memories. It's always a little daunting to try something new on a huge scale like a novel. But I'll have A.S. King to guide me.
What fun is writing if you can't plagiarize while you're at it?
I've written about 100 pages in the Alzheimer's book, but I was so frustrated with structure. I wanted to include some memories from the past, and have those memories be a major part of the book, but most of the action is to take place in the present. Every time I tried to plan it out, it just wasn't working for me. I tried alternating chapters present/past, but that didn't work because it was obvious from the get-go what had happened in the past. I tried flashback form within the present, but that required lots of awkward transitioning and it wasn't a very balanced novel because so much of the past had to fit into the narrative.
Then I read Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S. King.
Ah, nothing like stealing ideas from another author. It was perfect! This novel is written in scenes instead of full chapters. Some scenes take place in the past, others in the present, and others from someone else's perspective. She starts each scene with a heading telling where and when the action takes place, so no awkward transitions.
So, for my next book, I'll be trying something new. That's right, I'll be abandoning the traditional chapter form completely. But it's the only way it makes sense--a nearly random structure for a book about scattered memories. It's always a little daunting to try something new on a huge scale like a novel. But I'll have A.S. King to guide me.
What fun is writing if you can't plagiarize while you're at it?
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Intangibles
You've read before about how I love me some numbers when I write. Nothing like cold, hard digits to prove you're getting somewhere. See? Look, I wrote 1000 words today. Can't dispute that.
The funny thing about life is you can't measure everything you do. Yes, I'm just figuring this out, but I'm a little slow on the life lesson stuff. They don't tell you this when you're in school and they definitely don't grade you on it. They really should put a number to it so I could relate.
This can't-measure stuff is hard for me to grasp. Isn't that what we're raised to believe, though? Success is something you can prove with grades, promotions, salary, house size, weight, etc. That's what the goal-making gurus always tell me, too. Don't make vague general goals like "be kinder to animals", because how will you know when you've succeeded? Your goals should be something you can tally up because then, to paraphrase George Banks from Mary Poppins, you'll achieve that sense of conquest.
He's right about that. I eat that stuff up. The fitness DVD I use has three levels. Yay! I'm super ninja kick-butt mama when I can graduate from one level to the next. Wow, I'm super-nerdy writing maniac mama when I put 1,000 words on the page. Huzzah, I'm super domestic diva mama when I put 5.5 loads of laundry in the dryer in one day.
But what about the things you can't measure? Like this week, for instance, when my CPs told me about some problems with my third-draft Rocky novel. The next step is, get this, to think about it. How do the characters relate to each other? How do they interact at school? What is their motivation in each chapter? Thinking does not add words to the page. But it makes the novel better. And knowing I need to think about those problems for this novel will make me a better writer because I'll have to think about the same things in other novels.
But how do you measure it? "I had 3.3 thoughts about my characters today"? You can't. And yet, that's where I'll make the most progress.
It's the same with children. Nobody counts how many hours I spent on the couch with my kids yesterday, trying to get them to stop screaming for no apparent reason. Nobody but them noticed the snuggles I gave them when it was dish-doing time. Yet those things matter most.
In the words of Einstein, "Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted."
Photo source
He knew what he was talking about. Though some moments of inspiration come when I'm typing madly away, many (the big, important ones) come when I'm in the shower, or lying around in bed, or doing nothing at all.
So if you see me this week and it looks like I'm sitting around being completely unproductive, don't be fooled. My internal genius is at work. Do not disturb.
The funny thing about life is you can't measure everything you do. Yes, I'm just figuring this out, but I'm a little slow on the life lesson stuff. They don't tell you this when you're in school and they definitely don't grade you on it. They really should put a number to it so I could relate.
This can't-measure stuff is hard for me to grasp. Isn't that what we're raised to believe, though? Success is something you can prove with grades, promotions, salary, house size, weight, etc. That's what the goal-making gurus always tell me, too. Don't make vague general goals like "be kinder to animals", because how will you know when you've succeeded? Your goals should be something you can tally up because then, to paraphrase George Banks from Mary Poppins, you'll achieve that sense of conquest.
He's right about that. I eat that stuff up. The fitness DVD I use has three levels. Yay! I'm super ninja kick-butt mama when I can graduate from one level to the next. Wow, I'm super-nerdy writing maniac mama when I put 1,000 words on the page. Huzzah, I'm super domestic diva mama when I put 5.5 loads of laundry in the dryer in one day.
But what about the things you can't measure? Like this week, for instance, when my CPs told me about some problems with my third-draft Rocky novel. The next step is, get this, to think about it. How do the characters relate to each other? How do they interact at school? What is their motivation in each chapter? Thinking does not add words to the page. But it makes the novel better. And knowing I need to think about those problems for this novel will make me a better writer because I'll have to think about the same things in other novels.
But how do you measure it? "I had 3.3 thoughts about my characters today"? You can't. And yet, that's where I'll make the most progress.
It's the same with children. Nobody counts how many hours I spent on the couch with my kids yesterday, trying to get them to stop screaming for no apparent reason. Nobody but them noticed the snuggles I gave them when it was dish-doing time. Yet those things matter most.
In the words of Einstein, "Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted."
Photo sourceHe knew what he was talking about. Though some moments of inspiration come when I'm typing madly away, many (the big, important ones) come when I'm in the shower, or lying around in bed, or doing nothing at all.
So if you see me this week and it looks like I'm sitting around being completely unproductive, don't be fooled. My internal genius is at work. Do not disturb.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
What now?
In case you missed the FB post, I finished. Yup. Rocky 3.0 (not the book's real name) is done, again. And now, I don't know what to do with myself.
Yes, the manuscript still needs work, especially the second half. I've got another WIP that's been sitting on my hard drive, untouched, for months. It's going to rock. I think. I've also got an article due way soon.
I don't want to do any of it. I've got finger block. It makes my fingers itch.
Just so you understand the origins of this terrible disease, it began by typing 1000 + words a day. A great exercise to keep my butt in the chair. The problem is, once my fingers hit the keyboard, they itch to pound it. And now, MS finished, they can't.
I'm not going to revisit my manuscript until it sits in my hard drive for a while. This is necessary to get some distance between us because let's face it, this relationship was getting way too intense.
I'm not going to start writing the other book until I reread what I've already done. It's been a long-distance relationship for a while, and you can't just start where you left off with an old flame.
I can't really start the article until I do more research.
There is no way to cure this seven-month itch.
My fingers want to type something useful, but the brain doesn't have any waves to send down to the digits. I don't want to do anything (I earned this break, and I'm going to rest or else!) , but I can't break the habit of working. So if I sit here with vibrating fingers and nothing coherent comes out my fingers, you'll know why.
Free Cell, anyone?
Yes, the manuscript still needs work, especially the second half. I've got another WIP that's been sitting on my hard drive, untouched, for months. It's going to rock. I think. I've also got an article due way soon.
I don't want to do any of it. I've got finger block. It makes my fingers itch.
Just so you understand the origins of this terrible disease, it began by typing 1000 + words a day. A great exercise to keep my butt in the chair. The problem is, once my fingers hit the keyboard, they itch to pound it. And now, MS finished, they can't.
I'm not going to revisit my manuscript until it sits in my hard drive for a while. This is necessary to get some distance between us because let's face it, this relationship was getting way too intense.
I'm not going to start writing the other book until I reread what I've already done. It's been a long-distance relationship for a while, and you can't just start where you left off with an old flame.
I can't really start the article until I do more research.
There is no way to cure this seven-month itch.
My fingers want to type something useful, but the brain doesn't have any waves to send down to the digits. I don't want to do anything (I earned this break, and I'm going to rest or else!) , but I can't break the habit of working. So if I sit here with vibrating fingers and nothing coherent comes out my fingers, you'll know why.
Free Cell, anyone?
Monday, February 14, 2011
Happy Posting Day
Happy hearts, sphere. I decided to commemorate this occasion (also known as SAD, an acronym for Singles Awareness Day or Spousal Let's-See-If-His-Awareness-Extends-To-Buying-Me-Flowers Day. No wait, that would be SLIHAETBMFD and that's just vulgar) by doing something really wild and crazy.
That's right, I'm posting. I have a good excuse. Two of them, actually. Yo, I'm busy writing my novel. And the other is poster's block. Or is that bloggy block?
1. So how is my novel going? So glad you asked. 77k words right now with two chapters to go after the one I'm working on. We're in the home stretch now. And you know what that means, right? Sprint, baby, sprint!
Scene setting? Silliness!
Symbolism? Superfluous!
Syntax? Bah, I say, who needs it?I bet you thought I was going to alliterate again, didn't you? That's me, always surprising the reader. Though if it really bugs you, you can throw a senseless in there for me.
I'm burning up the track now, so I'm not going to worry about silly little details like logic, plot, timelines, and sense. There will be plenty of time for that later. On the what, fourth, fifth, and sixth drafts? Yes, sphere, there really is a book on my computer. Yes, the third draft feels more like the first right now. Yes, my critique group will tear it apart and I'll probably have to redo the whole thing. Enough already. Stop pouring salt in it, OK? You are a relentless bunch.
2. Poster's block. I think my book is sucking out all my creative juices so that there's nothing left for bloggy stuff. My MC is a fighter, so maybe he's been throwing a few too many blows to my head. I don't know. All I know is, sometimes I don't know what all 43 of my readers care about, and I have a deep, abiding hatred for blog prompts. You know what I mean, right? Start every post with a different letter, or tell us 834 unique things about you.
*This is not meant to offend my bloggy buds who do this regularly. Your bloggy brain bank is empty. I get it. Believe me. You gotta do what you gotta do.*
Not for me. I get angry when someone tries to tell me what to write. I won't do it, do you hear? I am going to show my rebel side and say NO. There, that felt good, just like the voices in my head told me it would.
I think we need a new holiday for writers. Anybody want to write to Congress and demand a Voices-in-my-Head Day? After all, the voices are people, too.
That's right, I'm posting. I have a good excuse. Two of them, actually. Yo, I'm busy writing my novel. And the other is poster's block. Or is that bloggy block?
1. So how is my novel going? So glad you asked. 77k words right now with two chapters to go after the one I'm working on. We're in the home stretch now. And you know what that means, right? Sprint, baby, sprint!
Scene setting? Silliness!
Symbolism? Superfluous!
Syntax? Bah, I say, who needs it?I bet you thought I was going to alliterate again, didn't you? That's me, always surprising the reader. Though if it really bugs you, you can throw a senseless in there for me.
I'm burning up the track now, so I'm not going to worry about silly little details like logic, plot, timelines, and sense. There will be plenty of time for that later. On the what, fourth, fifth, and sixth drafts? Yes, sphere, there really is a book on my computer. Yes, the third draft feels more like the first right now. Yes, my critique group will tear it apart and I'll probably have to redo the whole thing. Enough already. Stop pouring salt in it, OK? You are a relentless bunch.
2. Poster's block. I think my book is sucking out all my creative juices so that there's nothing left for bloggy stuff. My MC is a fighter, so maybe he's been throwing a few too many blows to my head. I don't know. All I know is, sometimes I don't know what all 43 of my readers care about, and I have a deep, abiding hatred for blog prompts. You know what I mean, right? Start every post with a different letter, or tell us 834 unique things about you.
*This is not meant to offend my bloggy buds who do this regularly. Your bloggy brain bank is empty. I get it. Believe me. You gotta do what you gotta do.*
Not for me. I get angry when someone tries to tell me what to write. I won't do it, do you hear? I am going to show my rebel side and say NO. There, that felt good, just like the voices in my head told me it would.
I think we need a new holiday for writers. Anybody want to write to Congress and demand a Voices-in-my-Head Day? After all, the voices are people, too.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
What I've Learned Lately
I'm a numbers person. Scratch that, I'm a words person, but words are even more fun when you attach numbers to them. I like to set goals and give myself imaginary gold stars when I achieve them. It's not easy. I mean, you have no idea how many stores I had to visit to find myself some imaginary gold stars for my goal charts. So here's what I've learned:
1. If you set goals, you're more likely to achieve them. I decided I wanted to write a thousand words a day. This does not mean I get to beat myself up if I only write 997, because that kind of thing hurts, and bruises are not productive. It means if I only write 400 words, I see if I can come up with another scene instead of giving up 'cause thinking hurts my brain too much.
2. I recently read Glimpse by Carol Lynch Williams and Across the Universe by Beth Revis. Guess what I figured out? Their chapter lengths were never, ever the same. Not even remotely consistent. Whoa--you can make a sentence into a chapter if you want to? That's right, world. No hand is going to burst out of the computer monitor to punch my lights out for the offense of chapters that are too short. No, let's save beating myself up for those K minus three days when I must be punished. Chapters can be--get this--however long I want them to be! But don't count on it happening too often. We wouldn't want to let our readers down. They're all expecting nine or ten pages, you know. They're counting. Sure, they say. All that stuff about likeable characters, plot development, and intrigue and suspense? We don't need it 'cause we're busy counting the pages.
I'm not ready to commit to less than four pages yet, but after a few deep breaths and lots of therapy, I may be able to let my chapters go at eight and a half pages.
1. If you set goals, you're more likely to achieve them. I decided I wanted to write a thousand words a day. This does not mean I get to beat myself up if I only write 997, because that kind of thing hurts, and bruises are not productive. It means if I only write 400 words, I see if I can come up with another scene instead of giving up 'cause thinking hurts my brain too much.
2. I recently read Glimpse by Carol Lynch Williams and Across the Universe by Beth Revis. Guess what I figured out? Their chapter lengths were never, ever the same. Not even remotely consistent. Whoa--you can make a sentence into a chapter if you want to? That's right, world. No hand is going to burst out of the computer monitor to punch my lights out for the offense of chapters that are too short. No, let's save beating myself up for those K minus three days when I must be punished. Chapters can be--get this--however long I want them to be! But don't count on it happening too often. We wouldn't want to let our readers down. They're all expecting nine or ten pages, you know. They're counting. Sure, they say. All that stuff about likeable characters, plot development, and intrigue and suspense? We don't need it 'cause we're busy counting the pages.
I'm not ready to commit to less than four pages yet, but after a few deep breaths and lots of therapy, I may be able to let my chapters go at eight and a half pages.
Monday, December 13, 2010
I'm not crying
So, the writing craft books tell me, if you're not crying while you're writing your deeply emotional main-character-confronts-her-inner-demons scene, your readers won't be either.
Well, I might cry while I'm writing, but it's mostly for other reasons. What are they, you ask (I know 'cause I read your bloggy minds)?
Here's a short list: I'm going to pull my hair out if I have to wash one more load of laundry, I haven't had my vitamins today, and a Saturn commercial sneaked up on me while I was ironing.
When I'm on the billionth draft of my novel, can you blame me if there are more waterworks coming from my sweat glands than my tear ducts? I think any kind of water emanating from any part of my body ought to count. Like if I go pee seven times today instead of the usual five, doesn't that make my scene extra touching?
I'm currently working on a scene where my character has to tell her mother some serious stuff and the mother doesn't respond the way she'd hoped. So I try to reach back to my own inner demons. Like there was the time I peed on the floor in first grade. That was pretty traumatic. And there was water emanating all over the place! Yup, water counts. See how sad I make things when I write? Are you crying yet?
Anyway, I think the only way you can tell if the emotions you express are touching someone else is if they read it and tell and/or show you.
Anybody else got any tips or got any water running out from their bodies? (Noses count, too. Colds are very, very sad.)
Well, I might cry while I'm writing, but it's mostly for other reasons. What are they, you ask (I know 'cause I read your bloggy minds)?
Here's a short list: I'm going to pull my hair out if I have to wash one more load of laundry, I haven't had my vitamins today, and a Saturn commercial sneaked up on me while I was ironing.
When I'm on the billionth draft of my novel, can you blame me if there are more waterworks coming from my sweat glands than my tear ducts? I think any kind of water emanating from any part of my body ought to count. Like if I go pee seven times today instead of the usual five, doesn't that make my scene extra touching?
I'm currently working on a scene where my character has to tell her mother some serious stuff and the mother doesn't respond the way she'd hoped. So I try to reach back to my own inner demons. Like there was the time I peed on the floor in first grade. That was pretty traumatic. And there was water emanating all over the place! Yup, water counts. See how sad I make things when I write? Are you crying yet?
Anyway, I think the only way you can tell if the emotions you express are touching someone else is if they read it and tell and/or show you.
Anybody else got any tips or got any water running out from their bodies? (Noses count, too. Colds are very, very sad.)
Friday, December 10, 2010
Books that are taking way too long to come out
I follow a few authors' blogs, and some of them are getting published soon, and I can't wait to read them. But of course, publishing being a business that takes a while (ie. snails have got nothing on the industry), some of these books seem like they're taking forever to appear.
Here are some upcoming books on my list:
Elana Johnson's Possession
Emily Wing Smith's Back When You Were Easier to Love
Talli Roland's The Hating Game
Brodi Ashton's Everneath
Beth Revis's Across the Universe
I keep entering their contests, hoping that one of these authors will send me an ARC so I don't have to wait for the second Ice Age until I can read one. And so, Beth Revis's contest called to me--we're talking 100 prizes, all from one author! Only once have I ever gotten an ARC in the mail. Advance Reader Copies make me feel like a kid opening her presents a week before Christmas and then wrapping them back up again so no one else gets to see. Wahoo! Sneaky me! Just you wait, world, because I know what's about to be unleashed upon you.
Here's hoping.
Here are some upcoming books on my list:
Elana Johnson's Possession
Emily Wing Smith's Back When You Were Easier to Love
Talli Roland's The Hating Game
Brodi Ashton's Everneath
Beth Revis's Across the Universe
I keep entering their contests, hoping that one of these authors will send me an ARC so I don't have to wait for the second Ice Age until I can read one. And so, Beth Revis's contest called to me--we're talking 100 prizes, all from one author! Only once have I ever gotten an ARC in the mail. Advance Reader Copies make me feel like a kid opening her presents a week before Christmas and then wrapping them back up again so no one else gets to see. Wahoo! Sneaky me! Just you wait, world, because I know what's about to be unleashed upon you.
Here's hoping.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
How to live life on the fly
Since I was asked to play the flute in church, and I am SICK of the same ol' arrangements I've played about twenty million times each, I asked my exquisitely talented friend Barbie to put together an musical arrangement for me. Seriously, go see her site (and take a listen--she's got audio samples) because I don't gush for just anyone. I knew she could whip something up faster than I whip up a Jello dessert and it would taste a whole lot better, too. So, about 3.7 seconds later, she was done arranging the hymn and it sounded beautiful. I know! Talk about a slow day!
photo credit
Here's where it gets interesting for me. Barbie's blind, and so sending me a written version of the song is a bit of a challenge for her. Talented though she might be, she's not so good at sending out ESP versions of her musical scores and I'm not so good at receiving psychic messages. So she cooked up a recording (so I haven't eaten lunch and I'm into food metaphors today) and sent me an mp3 file which I was able to download thanks to the advanced technology I have now mastered. It's called email. Yup, that's right, I even know how to open and read messages. Not only that, I can click on the download button.
So I listened to the piece and learned it by ear. You can listen to it (see sidebar, I Believe in Christ) and learn it by ear if you want to, also (please note this is an mp3 file and that no real people were harmed by playing an actual musical instrument in this version). This is neither me nor her playing but it is Barbie's composition. Amazing, right? I'll be proud to say I knew her before she was famous. But if you're going to learn it like I did, please take longer than two weeks to figure it out or I will hate you forever.
Learning music by ear is not so easy for me. But here's another scary thing. When I went to her house to practice, Barbie said, "Do you need a music stand?" and then she started laughing when she remembered I don't have the sheet music. That's right, I can't hike the stand up high enough to hide my face when I'm playing. I thought about coming to church half-naked because I figured standing up in front of everyone with no stand would be way more exposed. With no sheet music, I have no crutch. It's just me, my flute, a talented accompanist, and my brain. That's all I've got to rely on. It's scary. Who knows what could happen? But it's also kind of freeing for the same reason. Who knows what could happen?
The same principle is true with sewing. I've been experimenting for the last few weeks with sewing without a pattern. That's been fun, too. When I give myself the freedom to figure things out on my own, I make mistakes, but some accidents have turned out beautifully. Like when I made a skirt too short and had to add a ruffle. It turned out all purty on me. Or when I made the neck too wide on a dress and I had to add some darts.
In my novel, I'm doing something similar with my massive rewrite. I know the basic story, but I'm not holding myself to all the events that occurred in previous versions. I'm writing with the same characters, but I'm not making them say or do the same things this time around. I want to discover what they'll do when I know them so well and I put them in different situations.
So I'm trying to learn to not be terrified of doing things without a plan, and hoping the creative part of my brain won't disappoint me when it doesn't have the usual back-up methods to save me from myself.
photo creditHere's where it gets interesting for me. Barbie's blind, and so sending me a written version of the song is a bit of a challenge for her. Talented though she might be, she's not so good at sending out ESP versions of her musical scores and I'm not so good at receiving psychic messages. So she cooked up a recording (so I haven't eaten lunch and I'm into food metaphors today) and sent me an mp3 file which I was able to download thanks to the advanced technology I have now mastered. It's called email. Yup, that's right, I even know how to open and read messages. Not only that, I can click on the download button.
So I listened to the piece and learned it by ear. You can listen to it (see sidebar, I Believe in Christ) and learn it by ear if you want to, also (please note this is an mp3 file and that no real people were harmed by playing an actual musical instrument in this version). This is neither me nor her playing but it is Barbie's composition. Amazing, right? I'll be proud to say I knew her before she was famous. But if you're going to learn it like I did, please take longer than two weeks to figure it out or I will hate you forever.
Learning music by ear is not so easy for me. But here's another scary thing. When I went to her house to practice, Barbie said, "Do you need a music stand?" and then she started laughing when she remembered I don't have the sheet music. That's right, I can't hike the stand up high enough to hide my face when I'm playing. I thought about coming to church half-naked because I figured standing up in front of everyone with no stand would be way more exposed. With no sheet music, I have no crutch. It's just me, my flute, a talented accompanist, and my brain. That's all I've got to rely on. It's scary. Who knows what could happen? But it's also kind of freeing for the same reason. Who knows what could happen?
The same principle is true with sewing. I've been experimenting for the last few weeks with sewing without a pattern. That's been fun, too. When I give myself the freedom to figure things out on my own, I make mistakes, but some accidents have turned out beautifully. Like when I made a skirt too short and had to add a ruffle. It turned out all purty on me. Or when I made the neck too wide on a dress and I had to add some darts.
In my novel, I'm doing something similar with my massive rewrite. I know the basic story, but I'm not holding myself to all the events that occurred in previous versions. I'm writing with the same characters, but I'm not making them say or do the same things this time around. I want to discover what they'll do when I know them so well and I put them in different situations.
So I'm trying to learn to not be terrified of doing things without a plan, and hoping the creative part of my brain won't disappoint me when it doesn't have the usual back-up methods to save me from myself.
Monday, October 11, 2010
If you play with fire...
You may have noticed my blog posting bandwagon has been moving slowly lately. That's OK. I'm spreading the slacker love around by not doing much writing, either.
I have kids. They stress me out. They take up most of my time and invade my brainspace while they're at it. Until we get our kiddo issues figured out, the slacker trend may continue. But I will still send my readers lots of love telepathically, if not so much fiberoptically.
I've been reading Donald Maass' The Fire in Fiction lately (thanks to my pal Sydney who's beenshoving it down our writer group members' throats recommending it). Maass has lots of good ideas. Did I mention lots? This is book boot camp, baby. If you read this book and apply his ideas to your manuscript, it won't look the same when you're done. His chapters aren't the typical boring ones you might expect, such as Plot: To Outline or not?
No, he's more imaginative than that. Here are some chapter titles: Making the Impossible Real. Tension All the Time. Good concepts to make your manuscript more intriguing, yes? The end of each chapter contains a step-by-step guide to implementing ideas. My personal favorite was how to write scenes that can't be cut. The key is making your character have both an outer and inner turning point. When these happen in your scene, your character is changed somehow. That gives your reader compelling reasons to keep reading.
Anyway, enough of the infomercial. If you have a manuscript that needs work, pick up some Fire. But you may need to make some scary changes if you do. That's what happens when you get burned.
I have kids. They stress me out. They take up most of my time and invade my brainspace while they're at it. Until we get our kiddo issues figured out, the slacker trend may continue. But I will still send my readers lots of love telepathically, if not so much fiberoptically.
I've been reading Donald Maass' The Fire in Fiction lately (thanks to my pal Sydney who's been
No, he's more imaginative than that. Here are some chapter titles: Making the Impossible Real. Tension All the Time. Good concepts to make your manuscript more intriguing, yes? The end of each chapter contains a step-by-step guide to implementing ideas. My personal favorite was how to write scenes that can't be cut. The key is making your character have both an outer and inner turning point. When these happen in your scene, your character is changed somehow. That gives your reader compelling reasons to keep reading.
Anyway, enough of the infomercial. If you have a manuscript that needs work, pick up some Fire. But you may need to make some scary changes if you do. That's what happens when you get burned.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Taking John Lennon's advice
Time to let some things be. If you have never met me in person, you might not be familiar with my type-A style. You remember Alex P. Keaton on Family Ties? He had nothing on me. If I'm not doing at least thirty things at once, it's probably because I'm asleep. Though I have been known to dream about work, trips to England, and fending off terrorists, sleeping really cramps my multitasking style.
I've got a writing conference coming up in November. Between now and then, I have some other projects I'm working on. I sew, play music, fundraise, blog, raise three children, wash clothes, lead a choir, wash dishes, vacuum out vans, help whiny children with homework, operate a preschool shuttle (well, for our family anyway), write magazine articles, read, and then there's the important stuff: I check Facebook regularly. So even though I'm currently writing chapter seven of the third draft of my WIP, November will look a lot closer when I wake up tomorrow on the October side of the bed. I'm not sure yet how long this version of my novel will be, but it may take thirty chapters or more. 3-4 chapters a week? Hmm, don't know if I'll get there.
Back when I attended goal-making school, I think I missed one of the fundamental goal-making lessons: you know, keep your goals time-focused, consistent, and oh yeah, what was that other one again? Attainable.
Maybe I don't have to freak out. The novel may actually get done, someday, somehow. That day and that how may not be in mid-November and it may not be with bags under my eyes and a chocolate IV hooked to my computer monitor. You NaNoWriMo types might disagree, but I think writing a novel in a month is ridiculous. At least for me.
I'll take a deep breath, and let myself take longer to finish. After all, no editor is shoving deadlines down my throat. It's better to be sane than to have an impressive list of rushed accomplishments. And those are my words of wisdom for today.
I've got a writing conference coming up in November. Between now and then, I have some other projects I'm working on. I sew, play music, fundraise, blog, raise three children, wash clothes, lead a choir, wash dishes, vacuum out vans, help whiny children with homework, operate a preschool shuttle (well, for our family anyway), write magazine articles, read, and then there's the important stuff: I check Facebook regularly. So even though I'm currently writing chapter seven of the third draft of my WIP, November will look a lot closer when I wake up tomorrow on the October side of the bed. I'm not sure yet how long this version of my novel will be, but it may take thirty chapters or more. 3-4 chapters a week? Hmm, don't know if I'll get there.
Back when I attended goal-making school, I think I missed one of the fundamental goal-making lessons: you know, keep your goals time-focused, consistent, and oh yeah, what was that other one again? Attainable.
Maybe I don't have to freak out. The novel may actually get done, someday, somehow. That day and that how may not be in mid-November and it may not be with bags under my eyes and a chocolate IV hooked to my computer monitor. You NaNoWriMo types might disagree, but I think writing a novel in a month is ridiculous. At least for me.
I'll take a deep breath, and let myself take longer to finish. After all, no editor is shoving deadlines down my throat. It's better to be sane than to have an impressive list of rushed accomplishments. And those are my words of wisdom for today.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
A character by any other name
Hmm, I guess I haven't blogged in a while. I've been a little busy doing ever-so-productive things. For example, checking Facebook. You never know how things might change in five minutes. That's why you have to check it at least five times a day.
I've been raising money for my orchestra, the Celebration Chamber Orchestra. So far I've mooched a grand total of 50 bucks from local businesses.
I also constructed a new blog for my flute choir. I played around with the pictures and colors for a while before I finally decided to stick with the original colors in bold. Sometimes simple is best, ya know?
I've been sewing, too, because I went to Jo-Ann's ever-so-innocently for some patterns and came out with some must-have flannel. I decided I'd make a car seat canopy, so then I had to buy some cute (read evil) pink trim. It was pretty on the outside, satanic on the inside. The sewing area was so narrow either the needle would slip off the trim, the trim would slip off the blanket, or both. But the end result is pretty cute, don't you think?
Now I just have to convince the rest of the Etsy world.
I've been writing, too. I recently finished chapter 6 of my WIP rewrite. I'd like to finish it in time for my Nov. writing conference, but I have my doubts.
My current dilemma is changing one of my character's names. I hate that. Whenever I change a name, my mental picture of that character does, too. For instance, I once changed a name from Libby to Amy. The girl lost about thirty pounds, grew, got blonde hair, and got some more eyebrows along with her attitude.
I have to change a character's name because too many characters start with the same letter. Her name's Charlotte, and in my mind she's got dark brown hair and eyes, red cheeks, and a big chest. I tried to change her name to Shauna and then she got all blonde and shy on me. I don't think so. I need to find another name. Sigh...
I've been raising money for my orchestra, the Celebration Chamber Orchestra. So far I've mooched a grand total of 50 bucks from local businesses.
I also constructed a new blog for my flute choir. I played around with the pictures and colors for a while before I finally decided to stick with the original colors in bold. Sometimes simple is best, ya know?
I've been sewing, too, because I went to Jo-Ann's ever-so-innocently for some patterns and came out with some must-have flannel. I decided I'd make a car seat canopy, so then I had to buy some cute (read evil) pink trim. It was pretty on the outside, satanic on the inside. The sewing area was so narrow either the needle would slip off the trim, the trim would slip off the blanket, or both. But the end result is pretty cute, don't you think?
Now I just have to convince the rest of the Etsy world.
I've been writing, too. I recently finished chapter 6 of my WIP rewrite. I'd like to finish it in time for my Nov. writing conference, but I have my doubts.
My current dilemma is changing one of my character's names. I hate that. Whenever I change a name, my mental picture of that character does, too. For instance, I once changed a name from Libby to Amy. The girl lost about thirty pounds, grew, got blonde hair, and got some more eyebrows along with her attitude.
I have to change a character's name because too many characters start with the same letter. Her name's Charlotte, and in my mind she's got dark brown hair and eyes, red cheeks, and a big chest. I tried to change her name to Shauna and then she got all blonde and shy on me. I don't think so. I need to find another name. Sigh...
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Like a llama, or an emu
I wouldn't really buy me an exotic pet, just pay off the car loan and take a vacation or two.
I don't know how anybody has the stamina to keep writing. They're either totally insane or they have voices in their heads (NOT the same thing). When you write a novel, you put in thousands of hours, and the chances of getting any kind of financial compensation for your work are pretty slim. I don't know anybody besides SAHMs who willingly takes on that kind of work for about a 0.25% chance of getting paid.
(photo source)
Besides the annoyance of being a volunteer slave, many of us could actually use the money. You know, to pay bills and other luxuries. We may have fellow writers and family members cheering us on, but when it comes right down to it, we have to put our own butts in the chair without any encouragement from bosses or, you know, a paycheck.
Last week I decided I wanted to actually report some income to the IRS this year, so I sent off two magazine queries, hoping to land an assignment. I entered a contest, too, because luckily for me, I found a contest that matches a story I'd already written.
I don't know if my efforts will pay off or not, but if it does, chances are it will happen a lot sooner than it would waiting for a novel contract. Also it will happen much sooner than getting a patent for the self-cleaning kids I'm going to invent.
Do you do anything crazy to earn pocket change?
I don't know how anybody has the stamina to keep writing. They're either totally insane or they have voices in their heads (NOT the same thing). When you write a novel, you put in thousands of hours, and the chances of getting any kind of financial compensation for your work are pretty slim. I don't know anybody besides SAHMs who willingly takes on that kind of work for about a 0.25% chance of getting paid.
(photo source)
Besides the annoyance of being a volunteer slave, many of us could actually use the money. You know, to pay bills and other luxuries. We may have fellow writers and family members cheering us on, but when it comes right down to it, we have to put our own butts in the chair without any encouragement from bosses or, you know, a paycheck.
Last week I decided I wanted to actually report some income to the IRS this year, so I sent off two magazine queries, hoping to land an assignment. I entered a contest, too, because luckily for me, I found a contest that matches a story I'd already written.
I don't know if my efforts will pay off or not, but if it does, chances are it will happen a lot sooner than it would waiting for a novel contract. Also it will happen much sooner than getting a patent for the self-cleaning kids I'm going to invent.
Do you do anything crazy to earn pocket change?
Friday, September 3, 2010
I need me a writing time travel machine
Here's what I've been up to lately: reading writing books. Some of them are better than others, but they all make me think, whether that's new technique, new markets, or new ideas.
I've been pondering one of my WIPs, trying to figure out a timeline. The story needs to take place over about three years, but I don't want to do it in flashbacks, since the stuff that happens three years in the past has a storyline, too. I'm thinking about introducing each scene with either the MC's age or maybe a date or some other indication of time passing. My question is: It's unusual for the action in a YA novel to take place over any longer time span than a year. Can you think of any YA books that stretch the timeline out or that include lots of action in the past so I can read them and learn?
I've been pondering one of my WIPs, trying to figure out a timeline. The story needs to take place over about three years, but I don't want to do it in flashbacks, since the stuff that happens three years in the past has a storyline, too. I'm thinking about introducing each scene with either the MC's age or maybe a date or some other indication of time passing. My question is: It's unusual for the action in a YA novel to take place over any longer time span than a year. Can you think of any YA books that stretch the timeline out or that include lots of action in the past so I can read them and learn?
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Poetry time
This post comes from a rhyming query contest over at Grab a Pen. The contest was in March, but I recently remembered my scintillating effort. Though I didn't win :( , and only large amounts of frozen yogurt topped with piles of delicious berries will soothe my agonizing heart (that's Yogurt Stop. They do issue gift cards), it's worth checking out some of other (less) funny queries. Here's my ever-so-hilarious entry:
There's a tough-guy teen fighter named Rocky
Who'd rather punch-punch than talk-talky.
Foster sis likes her Luckys
And he thinks that suckys
'Cause his parents buy him diddly-squocky.
Rocky wants to get cozy with Charlotte
Whose cheeks are a sweet shade of scarlet.
He makes her a bet,
Thinking he'll get her yet,
But, oops! she's a brain, not a harlot.
Then there's his best man-buddy Bron,
Who likes to make cabins at dawn.
Rock tries to help build
Then the cabin gets killed
Hmm, who's got his wrecking ball on?
His parents sleep in separate beds
Which screws with the almost-sibs' heads.
The 'rents want to adopt Becki
But she's sick of the home wrecki
It gets worse! Dad stops taking his meds.
So I'm hoping that you like my plot.
My mother sure likes it a lot.
C'mon, what the hell?
You know it will sell.
Reject me and you'll die and rot.
There's a tough-guy teen fighter named Rocky
Who'd rather punch-punch than talk-talky.
Foster sis likes her Luckys
And he thinks that suckys
'Cause his parents buy him diddly-squocky.
Rocky wants to get cozy with Charlotte
Whose cheeks are a sweet shade of scarlet.
He makes her a bet,
Thinking he'll get her yet,
But, oops! she's a brain, not a harlot.
Then there's his best man-buddy Bron,
Who likes to make cabins at dawn.
Rock tries to help build
Then the cabin gets killed
Hmm, who's got his wrecking ball on?
His parents sleep in separate beds
Which screws with the almost-sibs' heads.
The 'rents want to adopt Becki
But she's sick of the home wrecki
It gets worse! Dad stops taking his meds.
So I'm hoping that you like my plot.
My mother sure likes it a lot.
C'mon, what the hell?
You know it will sell.
Reject me and you'll die and rot.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Gift card, anyone?
My friend Cam has a contest going on her blog. If you write, or even if you're one of those baby name book-obsessed people, this contest is for you! Naming characters is even more fun than naming your child, don't ya think? You don't have to agree with your husband, plus you don't have to worry so much about matching first names with last names because you can make up the last name, too.
I know everything, don't I?
I was humbled at WIFYR, to say the least, not only by what other people have done and how well they write, but also by how much there is for me to do. And I'm sure other people remember different things from conference, depending on what their challenges are, but here's what I need to work on: STRUCTURE.
I think the structure of some books can be easier than for others, but in every case, writing a novel is different than other writing, not just because it's fiction, but because your readers expect a certain order. There are certain rules. Yes, rules can be broken (and that's how different structures were created), but you have to know what you're doing if you're going to break those rules, and your novel's content has to match the structure. It has to make some kind of sense, somehow.
In my case, the two novels I'm working on are completely different, and in both cases, the content demands some unconventional structure. In my Rocky book, I had to completely change the structure once I realized who the reader was that my character kept talking to. Plus I wanted to add in some fights, because what kind of Rocky book doesn't have boxing? In my Alzheimer's book (which is, or was, about halfway done its first draft), I have to jump around in time a lot because Alzheimer's is a progressive disease. While many YA novels take place over a summer or even a school year, that's not really an option for me.
So I need to ask myself over and over again, does the structure work here? Or is it so contrived that it draws attention to itself? I got some good ideas from WIFYR, and then I took some of each of them to my critique group, who built on those ideas and gave me even better ones.
It will take a lot of work, but I think my novels will be much better for the changes *tears her hair out*. Really, it will. I can rearrange everything I've written and add half a novel of scenes that happen in between what I've already got.
I'll keep you posted. If I'm still breathing under all that paper.
I think the structure of some books can be easier than for others, but in every case, writing a novel is different than other writing, not just because it's fiction, but because your readers expect a certain order. There are certain rules. Yes, rules can be broken (and that's how different structures were created), but you have to know what you're doing if you're going to break those rules, and your novel's content has to match the structure. It has to make some kind of sense, somehow.
In my case, the two novels I'm working on are completely different, and in both cases, the content demands some unconventional structure. In my Rocky book, I had to completely change the structure once I realized who the reader was that my character kept talking to. Plus I wanted to add in some fights, because what kind of Rocky book doesn't have boxing? In my Alzheimer's book (which is, or was, about halfway done its first draft), I have to jump around in time a lot because Alzheimer's is a progressive disease. While many YA novels take place over a summer or even a school year, that's not really an option for me.
So I need to ask myself over and over again, does the structure work here? Or is it so contrived that it draws attention to itself? I got some good ideas from WIFYR, and then I took some of each of them to my critique group, who built on those ideas and gave me even better ones.
It will take a lot of work, but I think my novels will be much better for the changes *tears her hair out*. Really, it will. I can rearrange everything I've written and add half a novel of scenes that happen in between what I've already got.
I'll keep you posted. If I'm still breathing under all that paper.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Meanwhile, back in the real world...
I'm back from an amazing conference, everyone! Wow. My brain hurts. I made so many new friends, learned a ton about writing and the publishing market, and absorbed all kinds of ideas for my WIPs. So naturally, I'm blogging instead of writing.
I'll be sharing some things I learned here in the next little while, if I can get all my ideas out of my brain. But first, some business.
My friend Elissa was at the conference. I asked her about the middle grade blog I knew she had started, along with some other book peeps.
Guess what, sphere? Her blog, Mixed-Up Files, is HUGE. No, not just got a few followers huge. I mean Random House huge. That's right, the big houses are buzzing about her blog. They got 3,000 hits their first week. They already have 270 comments on their first post. Authors are contacting them begging to be interviewed. Sometimes, big things really do start with a small idea. Elissa, you rock. Congratulations. If you write or just love middle grade fiction, go check it out.
Also, I wanted to mention some amazing books I've read lately.
First, here's one I loved immediately after I read it--The Way He Lived. Emily Wing Smith's writing style is amazing--one that I hope to emulate someday. She doesn't tell the reader everything--you get to think and fill in the blanks. Told from six different points of view, we learn how 16-year-old Joel died and see the effect that he had on other people's lives.
Second, I'd been meaning to read The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams for ages, and I finally decided to buy it when I met the author and had a chance to get her to sign it. 13-year-old Kyra is a member of a polygamist religion. When she has to marry her sixty-year-old uncle, she wonders if she dares leave the only family she's ever known. This book was creepy and sad, but also hopeful and happy at the same time.
I'll be sharing some things I learned here in the next little while, if I can get all my ideas out of my brain. But first, some business.
My friend Elissa was at the conference. I asked her about the middle grade blog I knew she had started, along with some other book peeps.
Guess what, sphere? Her blog, Mixed-Up Files, is HUGE. No, not just got a few followers huge. I mean Random House huge. That's right, the big houses are buzzing about her blog. They got 3,000 hits their first week. They already have 270 comments on their first post. Authors are contacting them begging to be interviewed. Sometimes, big things really do start with a small idea. Elissa, you rock. Congratulations. If you write or just love middle grade fiction, go check it out.
Also, I wanted to mention some amazing books I've read lately.
First, here's one I loved immediately after I read it--The Way He Lived. Emily Wing Smith's writing style is amazing--one that I hope to emulate someday. She doesn't tell the reader everything--you get to think and fill in the blanks. Told from six different points of view, we learn how 16-year-old Joel died and see the effect that he had on other people's lives.
Second, I'd been meaning to read The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams for ages, and I finally decided to buy it when I met the author and had a chance to get her to sign it. 13-year-old Kyra is a member of a polygamist religion. When she has to marry her sixty-year-old uncle, she wonders if she dares leave the only family she's ever known. This book was creepy and sad, but also hopeful and happy at the same time.
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