the storyteller's inkpot

Save It!

2012-02-07T19:08:00.001-06:00

Novelist Peter de Vries said that while he loved being a writer, “What I can’t stand is the paperwork.”
I know, Peter, I know. Almost every precious scrap of paper and disk (aka floppy) I own gets saved in a drawer or box. The thought of throwing away my (or anyone else’s) precious prose horrifies me. I certainly can’t throw away cards and letters from children I met during my forty years of school residencies. The other day I ran across a pile of homemade Valentine cards given to me back in February 1987. I’ll just share one:
“Mrs. Tate, I’m sorry today is your last day to be with us. Oh by the way I had a million zillion tons of fun with you. I enjoyed it while it lasted but now I have nothing to look at the clock for. Well, bye bye.”
Potential dialogue! Save it!
Eleanora E. Tate Feb. 7, 2012

Book Blurbs

2012-02-07T15:05:00.002-06:00

This article is fun reading. Did you know the first use of the term "blurb" is attributed to a children's book writer? Nor did I. Enjoy.

Cold Medicine

2012-02-04T22:29:00.001-06:00

I’ve been under the weather lately, which without fail always results in me 1. Not wanting to write and 2. Eating too much toast. This is a writing blog, so I’ll focus on that first thing. Not Wanting to Write is an old blues song we all know. My usual remedy when I begin humming the tune is to mess around with a writing exercise or two for a while and focus on something outside of the novel but related to a character or a scene. I do this for a while and then the juices kick in. Why just last week I was bubbling about a fruitful new exercise I’d cooked up and I told you all about that. Lately, however, I’ve not had the oomph to even tackle one of the exercises. They all just loom so large, so long, so very--

Excuse me. Had to blow my nose.

Anyway, what I have been doing is rereading with pleasure a book called Word Magic, by a Minnesota writer, Cindy Rogers. The first chapters of the book are devoted to a witty and useful discussion of some familiar and not so familiar rhetorical devices that we should all have in our tool box. Alliteration, assonance, onomatopoeia—those are familiar to us all. But Rogers delves into some of the less familiar devices.

Anaphora is the repetition of leading words (or clauses): “Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired…” (Dwight D. Eisenhower)

Epistrophe is the repetition of a word or words at the end of a phrase, or clause, or sentence: Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things” (1 Corinthians).

Antimetabole is the repetition of a word or phrase in reverse order: “Ask now what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country” (JFK). You can be even more precise with this one and bookend a sentence with the same word: “Break was when she watched the waves break” (MRQ).

Epizeuxis is the repetition of one word for emphasis: “Water, water, everywhere /And all the boards did shrink/Water, water everywhere/Nor any drop to drink” (Samuel Taylor Coleridge).

Okay, the poets in the crowd are by now muttering, “Hon—these are all old tricks in our playbook.” Okay, probably so. But I’m still pleased with my discovery that crafting just a line or two according to a certain form is a wonderful sick-bed writing exercises; tough, sure, but just the right focus and scope for those days when any activity is likely to be interrupted by a period of lung-clearing.

There’s plenty more in Word Magic (anadiplosis, anyone?) but I’ve already lifted enough from the book; Cindy is a tough cookie and I don’t want to get sued. Also, it’s time for some toast.

Pico Iyer

2012-02-02T10:10:00.002-06:00

Went downtown L.A. to a series called ALOUD. It's people shouting at each other. (Joke). It's a reading/conversation series. Last night was Pico Iyer chatting somebody from the L.A. TIMES.

Pico Iyer has long been a fave of mine. His recent article in the L.A. TIMES was in defense of long sentences! (Sorry, Elanora) It was a beauty, too. He's a very graceful writer. And -- here's the point -- long-winded and knows it. He writes, he says, regularly and has few boundaries.

His recent book is about Graham Greene and it's probably a couple of hundred pages long. BUT he wrote 3000 pages. Then he edited. Not must taking out, but shuffling early pages into later ones and chronological sections out of time. He just wanted to see what would happen as he handled/fondled/caressed the rough drafts.

I particularly liked the out-of-time suggestion since I cling to time-lines. If that resonates with any of you, join me in the new time-dance where the last might be first or even in the middle

P.S. February's poem is up on the RK site: http://ronkoertge.com/rons-books/

A writer?

2012-02-02T09:38:00.004-06:00

Did my taxes yesterday and picked "writer" for one of my job descriptions, which reminded me of the John Scalzi blog post I'd read over the weekend. Since that post is lacking tight lines. I'll try to apply them to mine. (Welcome, Eleanora!)

Tight Lines

2012-01-31T20:49:00.005-06:00

Hello, everybody! Although I’ve been writing for fifty years, I’m still nervous as I contribute for the first time to The Storyteller’s Inkpot. However, to paraphrase our MFAC theme of “Immerse Yourself,” here I go, immersing.
I’ve been on the Hamline faculty since January 2009 after speaking first as a guest writer in January of 2008. At that time I urged the audience to have “tight lines.”
In fishing language “tight lines” means to keep your fishing line taut, so that it is straight -- not limp, no excess line floating about -- in the water. This allows the fisherperson to be more sensitive to the fish’s nibble or jerk at the succulent bait on the hook and thus be more apt to catch it.
In the same way, a writer should have “tight lines,” so that each word is taut, exact, and succinct, yet offers the reader the most alluring bait -- titillating scenes, appealing characters, strong plot, evocative sense of place, and tantalizing sensory details -- to hook the reader’s interest, pull him/her into the heart of the manuscript, and land em, still mesmerized, at the end.
Tight lines!
Eleanora E. Tate, February 1, 2012

Taking Sensible Advice

2012-01-27T16:40:00.000-06:00

Ron’s post about the screenwriter is a great case study of someone who knows how to take feedback.

I got a lot of practice processing feedback when I worked in public relations and museums. I found plenty of press releases in my inbox that were covered in red marks. I presented text blurbs of 50 words or less at meetings where ten people would then edit-by-committee. I handled phone calls like the following:

Person who hasn’t read the text, but wants to give a contract to a friend: “Why don’t we hire a professional writer for this?

Me: “We did, and it’s me.”

After a while, a writer gets a sense for which edits you just do—and there are plenty of those. You might implement them because they clearly make a piece of writing better and you’re learning something for next time. Or you might do them because they are a bugaboo of whoever gave the edits. Really, who wants to waste time arguing about “however” vs. “nevertheless”?

Some edits you don’t implement exactly as is recommended, but you do something else instead. Whoever is reading the piece may notice that something isn’t working, and they may suggest a “fix.” Writers should accept this information for what it is—another person’s best thinking of the moment. It’s the writer’s job to get deep enough into the piece to know how to best solve the problem, but we can give credit where it’s due to the editor for flagging the issue.

There are times when another agenda at work, but that’s the rarest case, and it’s pretty easy to tell.

Learning how to take feedback is like anything else. The more you practice, the easier it becomes. If we really open ourselves up to feedback, then we’ll be able to recognize and appreciate sensible advice when it comes--and our writing will be better for it.

Winter Workshop Wrap-up

2012-01-26T13:35:00.003-06:00

So here you see our hail and farewell photo of the writers in the workshop I co-led with Marsha Qualey at the Hamline 2012 Winter Residency. Over six days we responded to nine fiction WIP's with designer homework on the final day to send the writers out into the blizzard with revision juices flowing. Marsha and I called it our fiction intensive, each taking our occasional turn at the board to plot out scenes and chapters. Participants were all so sensitive and precise in their feedback that I believe all the writers were grateful for the careful readings. I was honored to share these stories and listen to the excellent feedback that went beyond each day's stories.

That's what we all yearn for, isn't it? A careful reading of our work that focuses on the text on the page, but also examines it in the broader scope of literature. Story structure and POV were most often discussed. We had excellent talks throughout the residency on POV in all its complexities and this deepened our responses too.

Write on through the winter. It's been a pleasure to blog this past semester and I hope to be back. Claire

Tough Love

2012-01-26T09:36:00.003-06:00

There was a piece in the "L.A. Times" recently about a guy (screenwriter) who finally got a niche at Sundance. His was a classic story -- somebody who loved movies, worked minimum wage jobs to finance his dream, made short films, got some nibbles but no bites, financed one last project with his wife's credit card, and suddenly a door opened. A movie about what he went through would be corny beyond belief (cue the violins) but it's not a movie. It happened and good for him.

What I liked about the story is this: the guy constantly changed and revised. He'd get some sensible advice from some studio wonk and he'd take it. He talked to other writers at his favorite coffee shop and listened to what they said. He didn't peddle the same script over and over. It was protean, a true work-in-progress. And it evolved into something he could actually sell. It's likely the final version barely resembled the first one.

When I do workshops, people come in with tattered manuscripts, something they've been toting around for years. When I see that, my little heart just sinks, because I know they don't want to take advice. They want their baby praised and photographed. And they want sympathy for the hard times they've had. Tough love is too tough for them.

But here it is -- Don't be that person. Don't keep picking at the scab on some precious wound. It'll just leave a scar.

Beginning the new year

2012-01-25T14:51:00.004-06:00

With the arrival of Marsha Qualey on the blogging scene here at the Inkpot I will take my leave. I've enjoyed these occasional conversations and hope to pop back in once in a while to comment. But this is the first week of the Chinese New Year, and it feels like a new year in this part of the fairly-near east. So I am going to do some ritual cleaning, pitching, and tossing--not go so far as Henry Thoreau's suggestion that we annually burn all our belongings, maybe not even tossing, just shuffling things along to some new, more appreciative owner. I have an urge to clean my closets and my slate, to see what is left to live and work with.

And then to start to work.

What I will not throw out is Mem Fox's advice that there are three ways to become a better writer:

1. write

2. write

3. write.

I hope we all write the best words and stories of our lifetimes (so far) in this new year.

Back in the Saddle

2012-01-24T13:28:00.002-06:00

After a semester of silence I'm happy to return to the Inkpot. Thanks to all who posted and commented while my head was in the sand.

I’m always looking for new writing exercises to do and to encourage students to try. The perfect exercise is one which not only helps me ferret out useful information about any character appearing in my story but also nudges me back into the writing itself. In other words, it must be effective but not too seductive as a distraction. A tricky balance.

I tried a new one this past weekend and I want to encourage all of you to give it a try if it seems the thing to do. It’s not my own invention, though perhaps the altered purpose is. I’m sure many of you check in frequently at McSweeney’s Internet tendency. One of my favorite features is the “Open Letters to People or Entities Who Are Unlikely to Respond” column. Well, this past weekend I had two of my characters write such letters, one to a snippy librarian she encountered and the other to a social worker at a youth shelter. Good stuff—in my estimation—presented itself as a result. I’m going to add the exercise to my list.

And even if it doesn’t work for you, read some of the letters. Most will make you smile.

Join the 46 Percent!

2012-01-22T22:02:00.001-06:00

Have you articulated your writing goals for this year? And written down a plan for how to achieve them? And (gasp) told anyone?

Some people aren’t fans of New Year’s resolutions. A study by the University of Scranton shows why: By July, only 46 percent of people are sustaining the formal resolutions they made in January. However, the same study also showed that of people who have ethereal goals—but don’t make formal resolutions—only 4 percent are successful by July.

Another study, from the University of Chicago, showed that people with the best self-control plan ahead as a technique for reducing temptation to stray from the path. Both studies are reported in a recent article in the New York Times. It seems that setting specific goals, tracking your progress, and “publicizing” your goals by sharing them with someone else are common keys to success.

I’ll go first: My goal is to have a rough draft of my current work-in-progress, a mg novel, by April. I’m starting with about 80 pages that I wrote while in the Hamline program and will now be putting aside. I’ll take it from the top with an outline that reflects what those first 80 pages taught me about the characters and the story.

How about you? Let’s be part of the 46 percent!

Life After Graduation

2012-01-18T10:12:00.002-06:00

Here's the thing -- keep writing. And for gods' sake keep revising. Here's a quote by Adrian Blevins (poet). The "him" is Rodney Jones, another poet and a guy she studied with:

"I remember telling him in an overconfident voice no doubt that I was rewriting my poems over and over again. Sometimes thirty times, I said. Have you ever done that? He took a deep breath and said in that accent of his that makes even hard lessons sound sweet, “I don’t stop before sixty.”

Someone is going to say to me, "Gee, I can't look at every page sixty times," and I'd say, "Why not?" Sometimes revising is changing a single word. "Loathsome" for "despicable." "Preposterous" for "fantastic." Manuscripts are like babies -- they need to be handled, fussed over, and played with.

I know a novel-in-verse (or any novel) is daunting. It's long and unruly. But page-by-page not so much.

Don't let many days go by without visiting your work. You don't have to look your best. The manuscript doesn't care. But drop by even if you can only stay a little while.

Shattering the Ivory Tower: Resources for Prospective "Academics"

2012-01-16T22:56:00.018-06:00

Academic carries a snooty connotation. It is a label that undercuts the importance of a teacher's calling (yes, teaching IS a calling. Stay tuned). How about the ol' "Ivory Tower?" You know, that place of elitism, where the finest scholars cloister themselves from their non-Ivy League educated colleagues and all students to instead focus on dossiers and sip lattes as they discuss Foucoult and Spivak and whether the Subaltern can speak (all great conversations, BTW, except any about Foucoult *shudders*).

Bell Hooks ("bell hooks") in Teaching to Transgress, discusses the role of the teacher, her calling, the duties she assumes, a contract she enters, promising to give her students her all. Teaching is student-centric. There's a label for you--one I've always loved, though.

While I attended the Grad. Master Class, the lovely, insightful, second semester student and teacher, Sara Kvols (along with the fabulous Sherryl Clarke) talked with our fellow Hamline-ites about teaching in the community college. Marsha Qualey was generous enough to allow me to address teaching in the university, balancing the writing life with the full-time faculty appointment. Here's a recap and a few things I had discussed with Sara about the teaching life and our students.

Teaching is not a "job." Teaching is not a CV padder or a "hobby" you should do because you've earned an MFA. If you are called to teach, read bell hooks. Read her often. Read her work again and again. And if you are called to teach, your focus will be on the students, on their growth. You'll learn from them. You'll laugh with them. And you'll learn to laugh at yourself. This is key, for humor unites us all, no matter where we're from. Our students deserve our best, and not just a warm body standing behind a lectern. They want hope that they too have a story that matters, that their teacher will listen, that she will see a spark in them, in their writing, that she will listen to their stories in her office at seven thirty in the evening (beyond her "scheduled" office hours) because the student matters.

Teaching is a calling. Your students will look to you as some kind of omniscient, omni-present know-it-all. And it's up to you to reassure the students that you're not. You're just like them. Y'all are on the same team, and through hard work, listening, and lots of dialogue (spare them the "lectures--" they'll tune you out in a second), you'll find the ties that bind you because there are many. And maybe, just maybe, a student will write you a note or pull you aside and tell you that she was told her whole life that she couldn't write. And now, she can.

Teaching is a calling. Teaching is student-centric. Hold on tight, you'll learn from them. And your life will never be the same.

Websites for university, community college, and online/remote faculty appointments:

www.higheredjobs.com

www.mla.org (this site will require an institutional username and pasword. If interested, please send me an email, and I'll pass mine along to you).

The Chronicle of Higher Education, a subscription worth your while: www.chronicle.com.

Feel free to ask any questions about the interview process, building a CV, managing 100 students (in composition courses--which are the courses one will teach in the university for some time, anyway), keeping your sanity, or any other facet of the teaching life. If you would like sample syllabi or just to chat, here is my email: tettertonm@ecu.edu. You learn to "teach" from your students, just as we learn to write from our own writing.

Our students deserve our best. We're all looking for the same thing: hope, affirmation, and light, a safe place (in the classroom, perhaps, in the office, in a coffee shop, in a stroll across campus). Teaching is a calling. And our students need us more than ever. Any advice from Inkpot Land? Resources? Thoughts or experiences that will help a new teacher cross the threshold?

***Much love to the teachers in the Hamline MFAC program for showing us all that teaching IS a calling.***

Yearning for St. Paul in January

2012-01-15T11:38:00.000-06:00

This is the time of year when alumni feel wistful and wish we were again at residency—the writing community at Hamline being warm enough to offset even the frigid temp’s of January in St. Paul. It’s a lifeline to see the nuggets Jackie has posted from lectures, but there’s nothing like being there in person.

Thankfully, the first weekend of residency is also alumni weekend. Last week was the first such weekend during a January residency and introduced some exciting new developments. In addition to workshopping and a special session with guest agent Kendra Marcus, the group enjoyed master classes with Phyllis Root and Mary Logue. Plus, the agenda now offers opportunities for alumni to present or facilitate writing workshops ourselves. A hearty thanks to our first alumni presenters: Andy Cochran, who talked about applying the MFA qualifications to teaching opportunities, and Daniel Campbell, who led a hands-on session about sensory writing. The word on the street and around facebook is that the weekend was refreshing and inspiring!

So, alumni, start planning ahead for July or beyond. The home fires are always burning at Hamline, and perhaps there’s a special topic you’d like to explore or present.

On behalf of the alumni, I extend a heartfelt congratulations to the graduating class of January 2012 (which includes our inkpot blogger Melissa Dempsey). By tonight, you will be officially alumni, and we are so proud. Your fellow alumni know about the hard work and personal growth this accomplishment represents. As you transition to life-after-the-MFA, remember that the Hamline community extends beyond the two-year program in many forms, ranging from writing groups to alumni weekends to personal relationships.

Remember that you can always come home again—and it will be warm, even in January.

Weather report

2012-01-14T07:20:00.005-06:00

Six degrees this morning. No wind. Not enough snow to make a decent snowball, but the skaters are happy.

Anita Silvey gave a wonderful presentation yesterday on picture books from Wanda Gag to Lane Smith's new Grandpa Green. She began by saying she could feel the enthusiasm and energy (perhaps also cameraderie) in our lecture hall. I agree, though there is a sprinkling of fatigue in the mix.

She also told us she has been detecting signs that the pendulum is swinging back toward picture books (strength to your sword arms, picture book writers!) And she mentioned three that she is especially fond of this year--A Nation's Hope by Matt de la Pena (illustrated by Kadir Nelson), Grandpa Green by Lane Smith, and Me...Jane by Patrick McDonnell. Anita also reminded us of her website-- childrensbookalmanac.com-- where she posts about a different children's book every day of the year. Her posts are bouquets to books and writers. No brickbats allowed.

We wanted more and we get it this morning with her presentation on historical fiction.

But back to yesterday. Claire Rudolf Murphy gave a funny and brave talk on finding our own true tessitura. In the world of vocal music tessitura is the best range for each person's singing voice. I am going to share just a couple of nuggets from her presentation:

*at Mothshop Community Program (http://themoth.org/stories), a story telling project with homeless people, researchers have learned that when people tell a personal story or a story close to their hearts detectable changes occur in their brains. Such stories also change the brains of their listeners. Amazing!

*fear (our own fears about writing) are just clouds in the huge sky of our fearlessness.

Claire said, "Trust your writing because you've learned to trust yourself. Remember you don't have to be perfect. You can't be perfect. But you can go deeper. You can find your tessitura that allows you to go deeper, to do your very best work."

She ended her presentation with this poem, also printed below in Claire's post. I like it so much I want to include it again.

"It is so clear that it takes so long to see.
You must know that the fire which
you are seeking
Is the fire in your own lantern,
And your rice has been cooked from
the very beginning.

Coming up for air

2012-01-11T20:57:00.006-06:00

Ron's right. We are in the middle of the residency. Tonight is "chill night" at the motel and nobody is having any fun (I don't know why they are laughing and clapping and singing).

The only problem that I can think of for this residency is that, as of today, we have no snow. This is winter residency. What is going on?

It was great to see alums last weekend. And we've had some wonderful lectures: Marilyn Nelson talked about persona poems and told us of the "power that comes from the creation of the mask and the creation of the voice for the mask to speak." And she read to us from some wonderful persona poems, including a piece from Carver, because Quinette Cook happened to have brought a copy to the lecture hall .

Anne Ursu gave us the basic grounding in point of view that we needed to get started in this residency on POV. I was doing common book discussion opposite Laura Ruby so I did not hear her informative and wonderful (I've heard frequently) talk that examined POV in greater detail.

Marsha Qualey discussed using the MFA to teach. Marsha Chall and her students went on a field trip through point of view in picture books and I've heard from many that it was very informative. We were scheduled opposite each other so I did not hear her talk and can't give a full report.

Swati Avasti showed us how to keep tension throughout our narrative with a three act structure for a novel.

And today Jane Resh Thomas reminded us that writing is our life, we write to save our lives, and we write to make our living. She talked about writing the truth: "You didn't come here to write happy little stories about happy little rabbits. Foxes generally come into the story."

And she ended her talk with a quote from James Baldwin that reminds us all of what we are doing: "For, while the talk of how we suffer, and how we are delightful, and how we may triumph is never new, it always must be heard. There isn't any other tale to tell. It's the only light we've got in the world."

Hope you out there are all well and standing in some bit of the light. We are thinking of you.

Love vs Loathe

2012-01-11T11:22:00.002-06:00

Most of the Hamline bloggers are in St. Paul with more than enough to do, so I'll don the mantle (Look how it matches my eyes!) and write a bit.

I was reading/reading about Mary Ruefle this morning and this caught my eye: "One of the most difficult things in life is to find the subtle balance between loving yourself too much and loving yourself too little." She goes on to say that self-adoration is bad and so is self-loathing. Then she wonders how we (writers) find the space in between.

It's a good question. I loathe myself regularly. Self-adoration? Not so much. But neither condition lasts very long. What I enjoy the most is flux. The journey in between the disgust and the ardor. For me, anyway, it's a space of great energy. The tatters of loathing are stripped away and before I can put on the robes of adoration I'm nothing but bodiless moxie. In those moments the writing problems get solved: the poem that wouldn't end ends. The story without a focus focuses.

Let's say I adore myself a bit right after that. It's a good time to revise, to shine that light on the work. But it's just as true for loathing. It has a murky and tenebrous beam that is as useful as its more brilliant (and more celebrated) counterpart.

I'll close, as usual, with a bit of poetry. This time a line from a Raphael Allison poem:

"The song poured over thorns and I took my time.'

Good advice. There will always be thorns, but there are songs too and, really, what's the hurry?

Finding Voice - Winter Residency, Here We Come

2012-01-04T08:40:00.003-06:00

A final post before I head out to Hamline University in St. Paul, Minnesota tomorrow for our winter residency. Excuse my comments on other posts to those not in the Hamline crowd, but we all get rather excited as writing camp time approaches.

Our focus this time is point of view and voice and I will be giving a talk on uncovering our inner voice. It's been an insightful journey these past few months and I am looking forward to the risk of giving a more personal talk this time around. I will be sharing this poem below that I first read at age twenty-one when my older brother wrote it to me in a card as I headed off to Europe. I have kept it all these years because I think our writing voice is the fire within, the cooked rice that sustains us, but that we can't always hear or appreciate the fullness of.

I tried to locate the poet's name to no avail. But it's certainly popular on the Internet.

It is so clear that it takes so long to see.
You must know that the fire which
you are seeking
Is the fire in your own lantern,
And your rice has been cooked from
the very beginning.
Old Chinese poem

I have enjoyed blogging with my fellow Hamliners. We will be celebrating Mellissa and her fellow grads. I will try to post a couple of times from residency before I sign off for a while.

I am celebrating my publication news for a project that I first read and the audience sang along as a work in progress at the winter residency two years ago. My Country Tis of Thee: Song Of Patriotism, Song of Protest will be published by Henry Holt with Caldecott Honor illustrator Bryan Collier doing the artwork. I will toast my agent Kendra Marcus for her help as she will be presenting at the residency this weekend.

Work On Your Swing

2012-01-03T10:07:00.002-06:00

I sometimes run little, informal writers' workshops at Senior Centers and every now and then I drop into the community college where I taught for two thousand years and talk to the Poetry Writing class.

The seniors (of which I am officially one) are usually fun to work with. They're often just getting out of the house, anyway, and they're amazed that the things they write can be manhandled so readily. "I never thought of starting somewhere besides the beginning," someone said recently. "But I see what you mean."

In the last poetry class I visited, however, I got nothing but flack. We had the "But-that's-how-it-really-happened" discussion: Me: "I'd make this about 1/4 shorter." Him: "But that's how it really happened." Me: "I know, but you can still edit it." "Him: How can I? That's how it really happened." I talked a little about rhyme and the usual rules that come with rhyme, so a guy in the back asked me when God had died and put me in charge. When I suggested to somebody that she cut the second stanza because it was pretty much like the first she said, "If I'm that bad a writer, I might as well give up!" And she rushed from the room in tears. It was just one of those nights.

In the recent "Water~Stone Review (Fall 2011) there's an interview with Richard Bausch. Toward the end he uses a golf analogy to talk about learning to write better. I'll just paraphrase, okay?

You go to a golf pro to improve your swing. He watches you and says, "Your feet are all wrong, your left arm is too stiff, and you're not keeping your head down. Try again." Do you say, "Oh, man. I give up. I'm hopeless. I'll never play better." No. You adjust your stance, pay attention to your left arm and keep your head down. You do it again. And again.

That's revision. Someone makes sensible suggestions, and you try them out. Take a look at the whole interview. RB is a smart guy.

Now to lighter fare -- the January poem is up on my website (or it will be by tomorrow). If you're interested go to http://ronkoertg.com/rons-books/

Resolutions--and Woody

2011-12-30T12:37:00.005-06:00

Thanks for the yoga Cheryl. It was just right for this gray rainy next-to-the-end-of-the-year day.

And getting toward the end of the year puts me in mind of resolutions. A friend of a Facebook friend posted a list of resolutions from Woody Guthrie's journal. It's almost too much like looking over his shoulder, but not so "too much" that I don't want to share a few.

8. Write a song a day.
13. Read lots [of] good books.
19. Keep hoping machine running.
20. Dream good.

I'm definitely signing on for read lots of good books. I realized this week I haven't been reading enough. I've let other jobs, other pursuits, steal time from reading.

And the hoping machine. It's time to tune it up. And then there's the walking and the writing real letters to people I care about, and maybe leaving room in each week for surprise.

As we wait for more light, or more snow, or 2012 what's on your list?

New Year's Yoga for Writers

2011-12-30T08:38:00.001-06:00

Good morning, and welcome. Let’s breathe deeply and begin to clear our minds. Focus on your breath and the energy it brings to your body and your writing.

As we try to clear our minds at this time of year, it is common to be assaulted by would’ve-could’ve-should’ve’s. The stories we would’ve started, if only…the times we could’ve written, then didn’t…the journals we should’ve kept, but... If any such ideas flit through your mind, don’t hold on to them, but don’t fight them either. Just collect them all and put them on a shelf in your mind.

Feel your breath move all the way into your belly. In and out. Find a place of stillness and acceptance inside yourself.

Now, into your mind, invite thoughts of last year’s writing accomplishments. The manuscripts revised…the characters sketched with clarity…the risks taken to share your work with others. The big and small. The public and private. Acknowledge each act as its own achievement in the larger process of writing.

Take a deep inhale and hold that breath.

As writers, we set our own goals. Then we often measure our accomplishments by how they match up to those goals—particularly goals of publication. Yet we pursue these goals within a world that is not completely within our control.

On your next exhale, let go of any connection between the intrinsic worth of your writing process and publication. Let go of any judgments based on your writing not measuring up.

Fill yourself with breath again and celebrate what did happen over the past year, rather than what did not. Accept the light and the dark within ourselves, the good habits and the bad. Accept the light and the dark in the external world. Know that light and dark will always exist, and neither can do so without the other.

Now visualize the writer you’d like to be in the coming year. You might bring some of those would’ve-could’ve-should’ve’s off the shelf and transform them into intentions. Or you might not. Focus on your process as a writer, which is within your control. Recognize the divine spark inside that connects us all, while making each writer’s voice unique. Feel strong and focused. Find that place within yourself that has both stillness and energy. Dwell in that place of doing and dreams.

The light in my writing salutes the light in your writing.

Namaste.

A Writer's Marinade

2011-12-28T11:17:00.011-06:00

Combine olive oil, fresh cilantro, sea salt, the juice of two limes and one orange (and anything else you're risky enough to try) to a fresh piece of Mahi-Mahi, grouper, conch, or giant prawns. A marinade will morph any blase' fresh catch into the unexpected. The secret? Time. Let all the flavors blend, soak through, until the entree' you'd imagined tenderizes, holds the heat, and eventually pops.

One of my favorite students had once told me that he'd "marinate" on the ideas we had discussed for his research paper on sex trafficking. Boy, did his use of that word strike me.

A writer must marinate, too.

Sure, we all believe in the ol' BIC method. But the time will come when you must marinate in the world around you. That's right. Marinate. Unpeel yourself from that zebra-print chair. Push away from the turquoise desk. Now lock away that manuscript. Let the snow crunch under your faux-fur trimmed boots. Breathe in the smell of burning firewood and toasted cashews from the nearby street vendors. Laugh. Take off to Paris (or to some other place, far, far away). Toast your BFF with a flute of champagne. Cause a scandal...or five. Laugh. Toast and laugh together all night. Listen to your knock-off Yve St. Laurent brushed-suede cerulean heels clack across the cobblestone streets. Belt out country music songs into your hairbrush. Laugh.

Repeat for many nights.

The best marinades take time. Laugh while you marinate. Trust me. Always remember to laugh.

This marinade will change you. And it will change your manuscript when you return to it (after you clear Customs and all). You'll see what you couldn't before--those changes you know should be made. Rushing hurts the WIP. And it will hurt you too. A writer requires time. We all need a marinade.

What's in your marinade?

Bonne nuit, mes amis!

What do You Read on Christmas Eve?

2011-12-23T11:10:00.001-06:00

One of my favorite traditions is our Christmas Eve family read-a-thon. We snuggle under a blanket (this year we have a fireplace!), eat cookies (those not designated for Santa), and read a stack of classics.

The playlist includes: Brett Helquist’s illustrated version of A Christmas Carol, Martin Waddell’s Room for a Little One and a sampling from the many lovely illustrated versions of The Night Before Christmas, The Nutcracker and the Christmas story itself. Most of these books we’ve been reading since Thanksgiving. But we always save the “Mr. Edwards Meets Santa Claus,” chapter from Little House on the Prairie for Christmas Eve. That’s the one where the creek is so flooded that Santa can’t get his team (mules, not flying reindeer) across, but a good-hearted neighbor just happened to see Santa while picking up supplies in Independence, MO, and then fords the swollen creek to bring Christmas to the Ingalls’ lonely log cabin. Mary and Laura are beside-themselves with excitement over each receiving a tin cup and a candy cane in their stocking (teary sniff).

At our house, these books and their kin appear in December, just as we put away the books about fall leaves, pilgrims and pumpkins. We also have seasonal books for Halloween, Easter, spring, summer and July 4th. The non-holiday-themed, snowy stories come out in January as the holiday ones tuck in. Each book feels like a lost friend when it comes out of storage and averages about eight readings during its special time of year. My children are four years apart in age, so I’d estimate each book will stay on the playlist at least 6 years. That’s at least 48 readings per book. It’s a beautiful life being a beautiful picture book!

What do you read on Christmas Eve?

Bits & Pieces

2011-12-22T13:01:00.002-06:00

I'm back and classically jet-lagged. So don't expect much, but I thought I'd check in. There will be a reward at the end, a gift from Chris Heppermann.

We were on the move a lot while we were away and I didn't write much; that's unusual for me. As you know, I'm a daily writer and most days write badly then shrug it off. My feeling is something will come along if I keep putting words down. Almost any words. Almost in any order. I like to, as they say, use the instrument.

I found that I missed being surrounded by the things in my studio, especially the poetry books lying all over the place. I tend to put them face down on the carpet and when the spines aren't broken from use they resemble the tents of an encampment dedicated to language.

I didn't have that on the train. I had schedules and guide books and a smattering of Italian to try to remember. I'm not complaining. This is just reportage. We were on the road with amiable friends who knew a lot more about Europe than we did. Easy-peezy.

Glad to be back, though. Bruce Chatwin I'm not.

Now here's a poem thanks to Chris who found it on Ted Kooser's excellent site. It's by Mark Jarman I think and if not Chris will set us all straight in a comment box.

After Disappointment

To lie in your child’s bed when she is gone

Is calming as anything I know. To fall

Asleep, her books arranged above your head,

Is to admit that you have never been

So tired, so enchanted by the spell

Of your grown body. To feel small instead

Of blocking out the light, to feel alone,

Not knowing what you should or shouldn’t feel,

Is to find out, no matter what you’ve said

About the cramped escapes and obstacles

You plan and face and have to call the world,

That there remain these places, occupied

By children, yours if lucky, like the girl

Who finds you here and lies down by your side.

Quilts and stories

2011-12-20T09:22:00.009-06:00

This is a story to go with Claire's story about taking a chance, or seizing an opportunity.

In December of 2002 I saw the "Quilts of Gee's Bend" exhibit at the Whitney Museum in New York City. I was so moved by the quilts that I stood in line to see the exhibit on two consecutive days. These quilts were made by women who lived in a remote and poor section of Alabama. Gee's Bend was featured in a New York Times Magazine article in 1937 detailing tenant farming.

The women worked in the fields all day, but as they worked, they thought about the quilts they worked on at night, how they might arrange the pieces in the most satisfying way.

They made the quilts partly to keep their families warm in the drafty homes they inhabited. The women did not think they were making art, but they were. We know it now. The quilts have traveled the country and been shown in various museums. The quilters have been compared to other modern artists, such as Paul Klee or Henri Matisse.

The takeaway from the first part of the story is that art will out. Even when much of life is taken up by the hard physical labor of farming, the need to create, to make something beautiful, will not be denied.

The second part of the story: I thought about writing about these quilts in a picture book but thought maybe it was not my story to tell. So I let that thought slide. But the story has been told. In 2008 Patricia McKissack published a picture book about Gee's Bend-- Stitchin' and Pullin' .

In 2010 Irene Latham published Leaving Gee's Bend, a historical novel for middle grade readers. This year we have Belle, the Last Mule of Gee's Bend. by Calvin Alexander Ramsey. This book tells the story, not of the quilts, but of the two Gee's Bend mules that pulled Martin Luther King's casket in the funeral procession. And it manages to get in quite a bit of history, too.

I guess the takeaway from the second part of the story is a reminder to take the chance and write about what we love. I'm not sure if the story of the Gee's Bend quilts ever was my story to tell and I'm glad it has been told, even if not by me. But once in a while, I do feel a whiff of wistfulness ...

I still love the quilts and the story of the quilters--and am bearing down harder now on the stories that I want to tell.

For Joy - What Writing Gift Are You Celebrating This Season?

2011-12-17T13:13:00.007-06:00

The writing life includes many lonely days of uncertainty. Staring at the screen, unsure of the worth of our words. Therefore, we especially need to learn how to celebrate, to cherish the small and great successes in our writing lives.

Last month I posted about two writing contests and Mellissa asked, "When do you know if you are ready to submit your work?" Sometimes you just know you need to take the next step. The Spokane Youth Symphony sponsored a contest last summer, looking for unpublished children's stories to be performed along with their music. At the last minute, I did something I haven't done in years. I submitted a new project I am co-writing to the contest. We won. The brave and talented conductor loved our manuscript and wanted to bring it alive through music. Last month eight local girls performed sections of our story while the youth symphony played songs from around the world.

But earlier in the week the dress rehearsal had been a disaster. The conductor was not pleased. I went home, wondering, why did I ever think this was a good idea?

The girls practiced all week. That November Sunday afternoon they and the youth orchestra rocked the house, earning a standing ovation. The photo shows us on stage for the curtain call. Never has a literary event surprised and delighted me so. I had doubted, but the performers and musicians had brought our story to life, and improved it through the collaboration and rehearsal process.

Our story is now being considered by an editor and I have great hopes that it will be a book some day. But no matter what, I have that afternoon of joy to remember on those dark times in my writing life.

What writing experience do you have to celebrate this year? Have you finished a draft of a manuscript? A semester at Hamline? A great rejection letter? Pop open the champagne - now.

Poetry Challenge - Let's Hear You!

2011-12-15T13:51:00.003-06:00

We moved to Connecticut this summer because my husband joined the faculty at a boarding school called Choate Rosemary Hall. Which means we now live in a house connected to a dorm with 15 high school junior boys. Which means that every now and then students ask me for help with their essays during study hours. Which is fun.

For the last two nights I went to the school’s Poetry Out Loud contest, which is part of a national program to encourage young people to memorize and recite poetry. We’re amidst the final days before winter break, and the events competed with basketball drills, orchestra rehearsal, play practice and the like. So although the recitations were open to the public, I was the only audience member who was neither participant nor judge. (That’s right, I’m the new literary geek on campus!) Happily, the finalists will recite at a full school assembly later this year.

It was wonderful to watch the students take the stage, breathe deeply, and deliver the spirit of a poem through their demeanor and tone. We heard works by Naomi Shihab Nye, Emily Dickenson, Al Young, Shakespeare, Maya Angelou, and others. Some students giggled sheepishly after their performance, others high-fived their friends, and I wonder if any truly knew what a brave and beautiful act they had done.

As writers, we know that poetry is meant to be read aloud, with its sounds and rhythms physically resonating. Committing to learn a poem’s words and meanings by heart and internalizing its cadence is an even more powerful way to cultivate our love of language and enrich our own voices.

On the way home, I wondered what poems I could recite from memory: The King’s Breakfast and some others by A.A. Milne, plus a solid playlist of poems about things like escalators and drinking fountains and toasters and leaves. It’s nice to have the right words at your fingertips when you’re waiting for the toast to pop. Still, I’ll make it a new goal to broaden my repertoire.

What poems can you recite by heart? Or come reasonably close?

Re-incarnating Musicals - Act II

2011-12-14T16:10:00.003-06:00

This is a follow-up to intriguing Jackie’s post. I’m a fan of musicals, although I recognize they aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. A friend in college once said, “Doesn’t all that singing drive you nuts? I just want them to get on with the story.” In the best musicals, the songs are getting on with the story and I’m a sucker for all that intense character development, or the building plot scene with a chorus of thousands, combined with the emotional tug of music. There’s probably a correlation here with tearing up at country music songs when I’m alone in the car. (Or is that TMI?)

Thinking about that fixed pole of music that Jackie referred to led me to Wikipedia for:

Original songlist for On a Clear Day You Can See Forever
Overture, Hurry! It's Lovely Up Here!, Ring Out the Bells, Tosy and Cosh, On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, On the S.S. Bernard Cohn, At the Hellrakers, Don't Tamper with My Sister, She Wasn't You, Melinda, When I'm Being Born Again, What Did I Have That I Don't Have, Wait Till We're Sixty-Five, Come Back to Me, On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (Reprise)

2011 Reincarnation List
Overture, Hurry! It's Lovely Up Here!, She Isn't You, Open Your Eyes, Wait 'Til We're 65, You're All the World To Me, Who Is There Among Us Who Knows, On the S.S. Bernard Cohn, Love With All The Trimmings, Melinda, Entre Acte, Ev'ry Night at Seven, Too Late Now, When I'm Being Born Again, He Wasn't You, What Did I Have That I Don't Have, Come Back to Me, On A Clear Day You Can See Forever

Looks like some songs were used as is, others deleted, switched around in order, and a few were brought in from the musical film Royal Wedding. Interesting to contemplate how one song could provide intense character development for two different characters in different stories. It reinforces the duality of details in making characters simultaneously unique and universal.

I’d love to see the new show!

Revising and "re-incarnating"

2011-12-11T09:32:00.003-06:00

I was stacking up some old New York Times recently, planning to send them to the recycle bin and one reached out and grabbed me. I noticed a story from November 27, "Switched at Rebirth."

It's an account of the re-imagining of the Sixties musical "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever." The director and playwright who are working on it call it more than a revival. And the article states that: "...the original script, characterizations, sets and choreography have been scrapped as reference points." So it seems like what is left is the music and lyrics...maybe... I'm not sure.

But what struck me was the notion of keeping a set of songs and inventing a whole new kind of story to go with them. And I wondered if that might be the beginning of a fun exercise for writers--take characters we're familiar with, our own or from history or folktales and give them a different setting, different motivation, but keep one part. Keep the magic goose that lays the golden eggs but make the giant a nice guy, beset by this kid who keeps dropping by.

I'm putting it on my list for some day when I have time just to mess around.

Serendipity in Nonfiction

2011-12-09T16:11:00.002-06:00

Jackie asked a while back if there was a key idea that resonated from the NCTE Orbis Pictus panel on nonfiction writing…for me it was the importance of serendipity.

When writing fiction, we talk about a writer getting out of his or her own way to let a story or character take its own lead. Nonfiction isn’t exactly the same because at the end of the day, your story is beholden to the facts. Yet there’s a lot of wiggle room for serendipity to shine a spotlight on what might become a story priority.

Authors Jan Greenberg and Sandra Jordan knew they wanted to write a book about revered modern sculptor Isamo Noguchi, but they also knew they didn’t want to write a soup-to-nuts biography. They went to the Noguchi Museum in Long Island City, NY, to see what ideas would spark. There they learned of Noguchi’s 40-year collaboration with Martha Graham, during which he designed 20 sets for her ballets. A short film and display in the museum spoke to them and they knew they had found the heart of their book, Appalachian Spring: A Ballet for Martha.

Michael O. Tunnell just happened to hear retired Col. Gail Halvorsen speak at a church about how a small act of kindness grew into a fondly celebrated initiative to bring joy to Berlin children in the aftermath of WWII. In 1948, Halvorsen was a pilot airlifting humanitarian supplies into West Berlin. After noticing how much joy two sticks of gum gave to German children near the airport, Halvorsen convinced his fellow soldiers to pool their candy rations to add to the air drops. Soon the U.S. Air Force formalized the effort. Tunnell wasn’t necessarily looking for a book topic when Halvorsen began speaking. But before Halverson finished, the seed was planted for Candy Bomber: The Story of the Berlin Airlift’s “Chocolate Pilot”.

Fiction or nonfiction, you never know when or where a story will grab you and where it might lead.

A Papyrus, Maat, and a Girl Named Ruby

2011-12-05T09:20:00.014-06:00

Nothing's better than meeting with a student who is brave enough to share her story. She's a brave soul, this Ruby, for sharing her stories with me. We meet in the office twice a week and always on Friday afternoons. Sometimes we sip hot tea. And I listen. Magic arrives (in red ankle boots with golden bells on the toes, of course...). And for an hour, sometimes two, Ruby will tell about growing up near the Nile River, of moving to the U.S. during middle school, of holding tight to the stories she grew up with--those that stiffen her DNA.

She visited the office last Friday with her research paper and a long, cardboard tube. As always, she laughed at the six empty coffee mugs and stack of research papers on my desk. Once settled, she popped the cylinder's top and unrolled a papyrus with The Weighing of Hearts Ceremony printed on it. She said that of all the stories she wanted to give me, that this one will bring me luck. "This story," she said, "is about my people." (Cue the tear-fest).

So, as we sipped tea, she told me about how the Egyptians believe that the heart is the most important organ--the vessel of intellect, truth, emotion, etc... The deceased's heart is weighed against the feather of Maat (a symbol of truth and justice). Of course, the heavier the heart, with wrong doings, the worse the outcome for the deceased.

How does this relate to writing? The heart's everything. Without it, our stories mean nothing--they're romps, empty vessels void of Maat. Write your heart out. The truth will emerge. And when it does, Magic will knock. Heart, Magic, Maat--all gifts from the world--all gifts from a girl named Ruby.

Ending with a Quote from a Carol Shields' Story

2011-12-03T13:34:00.003-06:00

I was helping out a friend who's doing work-for-hire. She had a desk piled high with first-draft manuscripts and just needed someone to read quickly and give her an idea of what needed to be done. She had a lot at 20-25 pages and a few novels.

It's always the same, isn't it? The openings are sluggish, the characters flat, the dialogue stiff, the pace either glacial or warp speed. The writing wasn't bad, it was just early in the game. I could see glimmers of jewels buried in the snow but only glimmers. No publisher would want to get his hand that cold feeling around in there.

My early drafts are that way, aren't yours? There's that first chapter that usually gets thrown out. Those ancillary characters rubbed out, their bodies hidden in the cellar. The thick, red line through sentences like this: "And then Ben, flinty eyes flashing crazily, ripped the parking ticket from the attractive meter maid's swollen hands as, pulsing with rage, he careened down the placid streets to confront his stern father who never really understood him."

Prizes and praise separate us. Envy enters stage left wearing a long green gown. Where we are bonded is in our bungling. That's when we feel "the million invisible filaments of connection, trivial or profound, that bind us to one another and to the small planet we call home."

Happy holidays.

P.S. I'm out of the country Dec. 8-20, but the new poem (December's) is up on the website now (http://ronkoertge.com/rons-books/) and early next week there'll be a link to a HUNGER MOUNTAIN piece I wrote. In case you miss me.

Unleashing the Power of Social Media

2011-12-02T14:05:00.000-06:00

True confessions. I'm a dinosaur as far as social media goes. I can break out into a cold sweat just thinking about doing a Facebook update or signing up for Twitter. But I just did. I signed up for Twitter to at least reserve my name for the future. Because two weeks ago, I played to my strong suit, as in learning through a presentation, rather than on my own at home. I attended an excellent SCBWI workshop called "Unleashing the Power of Social Media" given by Greg Pincus, a former screen writer, now middle grade novelist, who specializes in guiding children's writers through the maze of new media choices.

For three hours, I made myself stay open-minded and listen to how to use social media options. And now I am not as stressed about it. I appreciated how Greg kept saying, "Did I mention these platforms do no good if you are not actually writing?" Yes.

Greg's key points:

1. Plan a goal for what you want to accomplish by using social media
2. Take advantage of tools that filter your information intake and help manage time (Google Reader and Alerts, TweetDeck)
3. Connect. Comment, update your own status, add to others' conversations.

I am not ready to deal with number two. I am still working on number one, but I know it is the key. Number three is the most doable, in the sense that I understand now that used efficiently, social media truly can be a wonderful to stay connected with other writers, learn about trends in publishing, even deepen one's knowledge of craft. It is not real writing. It is easier than deep revision. But I believe that understanding it better has helped inform my choices.

Next semester when I am not posting regularly on this blog, I will try to use that time to follow and comment on three other blogs. I have already been asked to post for Women's History month in March. This I can do.

I have figured out that one of my hesitancies on Facebook is that I am not supportive of others, as in clicking the like button or commenting on their good news. I hesitate to post my own good news because it feels self-serving when I don't support others.

What are you strengths in social media? How has it helped your writing career? Or not?

NPR Backseat Bookclub

2011-11-29T17:51:00.005-06:00

I was driving down the road , on my way to the rather mundane purchase of a new toilet, listening to NPR's "Backseat Bookclub" as Norton Juster answered questions and talked generally about The Phantom Tollbooth. Occasionally I glanced up at the geese "v"-ing across the sky.

Juster has an easy-going, down-to-earth way that I could have listened to for miles. But too soon he finished up the interview by saying that sometimes "writers feel like their job is to communicate a specific idea or a finite point of view." [But]"I think the idea rather is to open up a piece of the world to a more creative encounter." That statement was a good unexpected gift and I was satisfied.

But then they announced the next book for Backseat Bookclub-- Breadcrumbs! The NPR website says: "Anne Ursu's big-hearted story about friendship and snowy adventure is perfect for wintry reading."

I swear those Vs of geese re-shaped themselves into "Y-E-A-H A-N-N-E!"

First Pages/Writing Contests

2011-11-28T10:46:00.005-06:00

At many writing conferences and writing programs like ours at Hamline, agents or editors will hold a first pages session. The first page of a story is read and first reactions given. As readers, we have our own first page reaction. How many times have you heard someone say, "It just didn't grab me." or "I couldn't get into it?"

Most of us give a story more of a chance than the first 250 words, but in today's competitive publishing market, often the first page is all that is read from the slush pile of manuscripts on the floor of an editor or agent. First page advice: grab the reader, but don't confuse them. Setting needs to be clear, as does the challenge facing the protagonist. Will they be able to act on the problem by the last page, in a way that they couldn't on the first?

First pages are often the last finished section of a revised manuscript. So don't rush getting it perfect when the rest of the story is still evolving.

That said, do you have a first page and enticing title for a YA novel? If so, consider entering the contest below. It seems legitimate. At least it is proof positive that the old world of publishing doesn't work the same way any more.

Serendipity Literary Agency, in collaboration with Sourcebooks and Gotham Writers' Workshop, is hosting its third Young Adult Novel Discovery Competition for a chance to win a one-on-one consultation ("with one of New York's leading YA literary agents!") Part in parentheses is from the contest web site. Some of you know how I hate the use of "!'s"

Submit an enticing title along with the first 250 words from the opening of your original YA novel. If interested, don't wait. The deadline is November 30th.

http://www.writingclasses.com/ContestPages/YAPitch.php

For those of you writing middle grade novels or picture books, there is another contest, but this one is for full manuscripts. The National Association of School Principals has teamed with Charlesbridge Publishing Company to select two manuscripts for publication and promotion through their organization. The first page will matter on this one, too. First round judges likely won't read past it, if the writing isn't strong.
www.naesp.org/naesp-foundation/national-childrens-book-year-contest

Part of me hesitates to broadcast news of contests. On the other hand, when your work is ready, you need to find agents and editors for feedback. Anyone out there had good luck with contests? Is it a good way to break in?

A Great Day for Nonfiction

2011-11-23T08:02:00.003-06:00

I had the honor last weekend of joining an impressive panel of authors and illustrators to speak about writing nonfiction for children. The event took place at the annual convention for the National Council for the Teachers of English; it featured the creators of books that NCTE recognized on its 2011 Orbis Pictus award list, which distinguishes one top winner and five honor books.

Co-authors Jan Greenberg and Sandra Jordan and illustrator Brian Floca
discussed the intersections of collaboration and inspiration that resulted in Ballet for Martha: Making Appalachian Spring, which won the top Orbis Pictus award.

Marc Aronson, If Stones Could Speak: Unlocking the Secrets of Stonehenge, spoke about how the challenge of nonfiction—being beholden to the facts—adds to the thrill of writing in this genre, and how there will always be questions that haven’t yet been asked.

I spoke about indulging curiosity and seeking the human connection to scientific topics in reference to Mammoths and Mastodons: Titans of the Ice Age.

Larry Dane Brimner, author of Birmingham Sunday, spoke about finding the specific details of history that make a story come to life,

Rebecca L. Johnson shared how a decade of ocean diving led her to write Journey Into the Deep: Discovering New Ocean Sea Creatures.

Michael O’Tunnell spoke about how serendipity and follow-through lead writers to powerful stories such as Candy Bomber: The Story of the Berlin Airlift's "Chocolate Pilot."

Eight panelists spoke and we ended our hour-and-fifteen-minute session right on time. That’s worthy of an award in itself!

Plus I met many of the wonderful educators who have a passion for children’s literature and contribute their expertise and energy to serving on the Orbis Pictus Award Committee.

And as icing on the cake, when perusing the exhibit hall booths, I saw teachers admiring Hamline alumnus Molly Beth Griffin’s Loon Baby at the Houghton Mifflin booth. And they had already sold out of Claire’s Marching with Aunt Susan at the Peachtree booth.

It was a great day all round.

Just In Time For The Holidays

2011-11-17T11:42:00.002-06:00

Here's a poem by Richard Newman that I love. It's easy to read, it's funny and it's true to the bone.

Bless Their Hearts

At Steak ‘n Shake I learned that if you add

“Bless their hearts” after their names, you can say

whatever you want about them and it’s OK.

My son, bless his heart, is an idiot,

she said. He rents storage space for his kids’

toys—they’re only one and three years old!

I said, my father, bless his heart, has turned

into a sentimental old fool. He gets

weepy when he hears my daughter’s greeting

on our voice mail. Before our Steakburgers came

someone else blessed her office mate’s heart,

then, as an afterthought, the jealous hearts

of the entire anthropology department.

We bestowed blessings on many a heart

that day. I even blessed my ex-wife’s heart.

Our waiter, bless his heart, would not be getting

much tip, for which, no doubt, he’d bless our hearts.

In a week it would be Thanksgiving,

and we would each sit with our respective

families, counting our blessings and blessing

the hearts of family members as only family

does best. Oh, bless us all, yes, bless us, please

bless us and bless our crummy little hearts.

Mentoring Young Writers--and Yourself

2011-11-16T07:50:00.003-06:00

I led a workshop last weekend at the Thurber House, a literary center located at the once-family home of James Thurber, who grew up in my hometown of Columbus, OH. Fifteen or so kids, ranging from 3rd-7th grade showed up to go “Nutty about Nonfiction.”

Participants included:
- two girls who go to each other’s houses after school to write together,
- a girl who writes chapters of fan fiction inspired by the Warriors cat series,
- a boy who said in the first five minutes that he didn’t read or like nonfiction, but he likes to write and so wanted to try different genres. (Good for him!)
- a few kids who were wondering why their parents signed them up for this.

By the end of the afternoon, then all had proven themselves to be true writers. Together, we faced down writer’s block, and each young writer found the story and voice for his or her piece. Their writing was colorful and informative and wonderful. Then during the sharing time, we had the prerequisite apologies for their work. What a bunch of writers! Simultaneously proud to have something, anything at all on the page and disappointed that the words don’t yet live up to their ideal.

We talked about not needing to apologize. They had done good, important work just by showing up and giving their best effort with paper and pencil in hand. That’s what makes today’s writing good. And if desired, a writer can always make good work even better by showing up and doing the same tomorrow.

Then came the parents and siblings and cookies and punch. A good time was had by all.

One interesting aspect of teaching is that we are more likely to be generous on behalf of others than we are on behalf of ourselves. And it's inspiring to see good advice used to good effect by young writers. It's a good reminder of core principles that relate to our own writing lives.

p.s. The boy didn’t like nonfiction said at the end that it was now “less boring.” I’ll take that as a compliment from a middle schooler.

Wordless descriptions

2011-11-15T11:23:00.004-06:00

Recently a popular and relatively young man in the Theater Department died of a heart attack. No one saw it coming. The Theater Department majors at Cornell College were given the job of putting on a memorial service. It was interesting to me to see these actors pay tribute to their beloved teacher. As word person, I expected eulogies, comments, maybe even some quotes from some famous plays.

But much of what they did was without words: silently painted an owl on a large sheet by dipping their hands in buckets of paint, to stand for their teacher’s love of owls; turned off all the lights and danced to rock music holding six-inch light sticks, expressing I’m not sure what—perhaps joy in a life well lived (this man received a law degree in 1978, in 1981 he quit the law and went back to his first love—theater). In one little skit two women were dressed in elaborate costume by two other “dressers,” without a word.

The service was very moving. But for a writer everything comes back to writing (How narrow! Sorry.) and it made me wonder if we might find in all this another way into defining our characters. Could we simplify the task so we weren’t writing skits but just ask what one or two objects would stand for our characters—for George B. Schaller, the wildlife biologist in the chiru story, a notebook perhaps, stuck into a pair of hiking boots; for my new character who’s good with gizmos—a jack-in-the box taken apart and reconstructed, balanced on a couple of screwdrivers.

What’s the best collection for a character you’ve been carrying around for a while?

Listen up, Readers!

2011-11-11T12:27:00.006-06:00

One of the fun things about having a new book come out is that you learn about new media. Recently I received this email invitation:

"Join our collection so that students and teachers can hear from you when reading your books. You don't need to have a difficult name to participate—just a fun message to help readers get a sense of who you are."

To hear how your favorite fellow authors give their messages their own personal touch, see the entire collection of over 1,300 name pronunciations here.

I did record my own name to be posted soon. But first I took a few minutes to listen to the recordings of some of the Hamline faculty. Did you know that one is named after a game show host and when another one leaves a phone message people sometimes think that two girls have called?

Now I invite any of you out there with books to record your name, too. Or when you truly deserve a break from writing, check these recordings out.

TeachingBooks is an online database of multimedia resources about books and authors and is used in over 26,000 schools, reaching 13+ million students - pretty cool and a wonderful resource.

A Stranger Comes To Town

2011-11-10T10:45:00.002-06:00

A friend of mine goes to a small church in Altadena where they pretty much use the Earnest Holmes books for all their study groups. They had a speaker a few nights ago and I went. His presentation was basically this: if you don't like the situation you find yourself in, look at the thought patterns that got you there and change them. One example was the bitter husband who raked over the smoldering coals of his divorce pretty much every day and suffered from colitis.

Makes sense, right? If what you thought got you somewhere you don't want to be, change the thought. He proposed a kinder, more peaceful life if we would all buy his book and practice what he preached.

At this point my mind is wandering. I don't want to fight with my wife, but I don't want to bliss out and nod off while she's talking to me, either. And I certainly don't want a peaceful life for my characters.

A stranger comes to town and meets a pretty widow with two charming children. They get along well and have friends in the community. Is that it? Isn't somebody going to come through the door with a gun in his hand? Something has to happen for me to keep reading.

If Ahab isn't freaking nuts when it comes to Moby Dick, he stays on land and practices forgiveness. If Jack doesn't fall down and break his crown, he and Jill just stand there with a bucket of water.

Here's a line from a poem. I forget who wrote it, but I like it a lot:

If we call the fire, it comes.

That's our job as writers, to call the fire. And then use it to burn something down.

Flicker

2011-11-08T13:22:00.033-06:00

Ever watch a candle's flame just before it dies? It flits and flickers, stretching higher, as if pulled by a puppeteer's strings. The flame then lowers, the wick curling down, just above the wax.

But, Writer, that flame's a fighter.

The wick, while lit, casts its promise across your page. A promise to burn. A promise to light your path, no matter how dark...

But you must show up to light it.

Always remember this: That wick--the flame's lifeline--is also its own nemesis. The flame will snuff out. The smoke strings that linger around your eyes and fill your nose, will stay with you.

This smoke, Writer, is a reminder and a promise. A reminder of the flame you'd lit. And a promise that it will return again--if you light it. The wax will harden. And it's up to you to throw it away. Don't look back at it, Writer. Then look back. Look into the dark. Remember it. Then, don't. It'll stay with you, anyway.

Your wick burns for the children who read your work for fun. It burns for the children whose own flames have snuffed out. Writer, you made them a promise the first time you lit the wick. And you made yourself a promise, too.

Put up a fight. Always, always light that wick, Writer. And when you do, follow the light. The darkness is there, too. It will always stay with you. So, follow the light anyway.

Keep writing, y'all! :0)

I Promise This Is The Last P.S.

2011-11-04T12:55:00.001-05:00

http://ronkoertge.com/rons-books/now-playing/another-way-of-looking-at-things/

OUCH! P.S.

2011-11-04T12:37:00.001-05:00

I understand the link from my site to the VOYA review didn't take. Go to VOYA if you're interested or give me a day or two to see what's what.

In the meantime, they're running at Churchill Downs!

Ouch!

2011-11-04T09:30:00.002-05:00

Since I can dish it out (blood runs from the face of the student in workshop as I cut six pages to two), I can take it, too. Check out the VOYA review of NOW PLAYING. It's on my website -- http://ronkoertge.com/rons-books/

I take most reviews with a grain or two of Dead Sea salt. Especially the good ones. And I've never failed to learn something from the poor reviews. See what you think.

By the way, today and tomorrow are Breeders' Cup races. There's money to be made! And I'm sure not going to get rich with reviews like that last one.

Historical Fiction - The Time is Now

2011-11-03T10:05:00.003-05:00

I don't know a writer alive who doesn't own a shelf full of books about writing craft and process. But somehow I can never resist adding one more to my library. Recently I read a review and then purchased a copy of The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction by James Alexander Thom. Thom has written historical fiction for decades, mainly about the Lewis and Clark era and other stories set in the early West.

His credo is: ""Once upon a time it was now. Today is now. But three hundred years ago, the 18th century was now. You as a historical novelist, can make any time now by taking your reader into that time. Once you grasp that, the rest is just hard work."

Ah, we know about hard work. But in his excellent book, Thom guides writers with concrete suggestions about how to bring history alive in story, and the ethics of thorny issues like changing real facts and portraying real historical people. I especially appreciated his comparisons to the differences in writing nonfiction history and historical fiction.

I encourage those of you writing history, nonfiction or fiction, to check it out. It is a tremendous resource that fills a gap.

The right place, the right time: following the breadcrumbs

2011-10-31T12:25:00.006-05:00

Sometimes things work out just right. And last weekend was one of them--when I happened to be in Minneapolis and able to go to the lovely Birchbark Books and hear our wonderful Anne Ursu read from Breadcrumbs. All the chairs were full and we were enthralled to hear Anne read from her book.

We've heard parts of the story before and know of Hazel and her friend Jack , made of "baseball and castles and super-heroes and Jack-ness." And we may remember that Jack gets a shard from an evil mirror in his heart, gets entranced by the white witch, and forgets his friend Hazel. I bought a copy of Breadcrumbs at Anne's signing and am now to the place where Jack has just left with the white witch. There is so much I want to underline in this book, so much I want to share. I won't share all that I'd like but I have to pull this piece out--the description of the evil character who makes the mirror that explodes and sends one shard into Jack's heart:

"We'll call him Mal, though that is not his real name. His real name has forty-seven syllables, and we have things to do. Mal looks like nothing you know or can imagine, neither goblin nor troll nor imp nor demon. ...Mal is not any one of these things but all of them. Mal is a goblin. He has green-brown skin, a froglike mouth and sharp little teeth. Mal is a troll. He is seven feet tall and warty, has terrible breath, and a penchant for hanging out under bridges. Mal is an imp. He has a small bat wings, a high-pitched screech of a laugh, and pointy little ears. Mal is a demon. And that means he is up to no good."

I will not be able to think of personified evil again without thinking that its name must have forty-seven syllables.

This little section of the book made me wonder what I would write in describing "Mal," what ears or teeth or feet or voice. Perhaps evil uses e-mail, or Western Union, or a too-wide smile. Some morning, when faced with the blank page, I'm going to write a cousin for Anne's Mal.

In the meantime, it was wonderful to be at the reading with Phyllis Root, to hear Anne, to chat and laugh with Megan Atwood, and get a catch-up on the semester from Quinette Cook.

Keep it Simple - Fraud and Revision

2011-10-29T11:53:00.007-05:00

Last Friday was a bad day. It had started out well - completed student packets and three good hours of writing under my belt. Until I received the phone call from my 93-year-old mother, concerning a relative in jail in Canada needing bail money. Already some of you are thinking - uh, oh. Red flag. But not Claire. And not my mother. "We need to help her." I fell for it. My busy brother's assistant did, too.

But in the end, I was responsible. I made the choice to lead with emotion and not common sense. I sent a wire with money. Yes, I did. And what does this have to do with writing? I didn't stay grounded. I got caught up in wanting to help, instead of listening to the true voice in my head saying, something is not right. I got taken in by fictitious police in Canada. Ah, I smell the beginnings of a novel. But I am in the middle of revision. First draft writing can lead with emotion, but not during revision. At that point, we must step back and keep it simple. Keep focused on the story and the characters at hand, with a detached eye. Cutting any and all parts that don't work, even if we feel strongly about them.

When my husband arrived home and heard about the Western Union wire I had sent, he was like - what???? He got on the phone with the fraud department and then I told John at Western Union about my bad day. He stopped the wire in time. My mother's money was saved. Like good editors, my husband and John didn't let the book go to press, even though I had decided it was good to go.

Listen to trusted editors and readers when they tell you something isn't working. Rather than react emotionally, step back and at least consider the information. Never wire money through Western Union to someone you don't know. Even Craig's List advises that. Too bad they don't publish books too.

Inspiration from Film

2011-10-28T09:50:00.013-05:00

After a hard day of writing, why not curl up on the sofa with a good documentary? Here are some of my favorites for inspiration as a writer:

Between the Folds (Exploring Origami)
Artists and scientists discuss the possibilities of what we can learn about the world by folding a single sheet of paper. The artists are continually challenging themselves to perfect different techniques for different effects. Some artists implement hundreds of precise folds. Others strive to create a moving piece of art with a single fold. Reminds me of poetry. What can be created by understanding the rules of a form more deeply? What universal truths can we better understand by focusing on a specific question?

A Man Named Pearl
This is the story of Pearl Fryar, the son of a sharecropper who has become a nationally known artist, working in the unusual medium of topiary. The film shows how Pearl’s garden and life as an artist developed. It also shows how Pearl inspires others and sends ripples through his entire community by pursuing his artistic passion with generosity and integrity. This movie always makes me want to get to work, dig a little deeper, and think about how to be more generous as a writer.

The Natural History of the Chicken
This one would be easy to overlook from the title, but once you start watching, it’s hard to stop. You’ll meet Cotton, whose pampered lifestyle includes having his feathers blow-dried and dining at McDonald’s. You’ll see Janet Bonney reenact how she saved a beloved chicken’s life with CPR. You’ll hear retired farmers Bud, Doc and Babe express their admiration for a rooster named Mike, whose claim to fame you'll have to watch the film to discover. A great reminder that the world around us is full of colorful characters, stories and meaningful details.

These films are all available instantly on Netflix, so watch one and let us know how it speaks to you as a writer. Heck, each film is only about an hour, so you could watch all three!

And what are your favorite films for inspiration as a writer?

In Praise of Boredom

2011-10-27T09:27:00.002-05:00

I think boredom (or Boredom, if we think of it as an allegorical figure and if we do then it isn't wearing a robe like Honor but, appropriately enough, pajamas) is under-valued. I'm not a fan of social media, anyway, and I prefer to keep my big, empty head as empty as possible. Counting my friends every day doesn't deepen the mystery of existence for me. But, oddly enough, boredom does. To me, boredom doesn't mean apathetic or numb. It's a weirdly active state that usually arrives in slippers carrying a day-old newspaper. Boredom is curiously inviting. "Relax, pal," Boredom says. "Don't turn on the TV or pick up another book. Stare out the window. Drool if you want to." Boredom is a ouija board without the planchette, a clock with no cord or batteries. Boredom is all potential. And an unlikely balm to the tender and impaired parts of ourselves that need it the most.

P.S. On or around the first of the month I post a new poem on my website. Check it out in a few days. http://ronkoertge.com/rons-books/

Questions from the mailbag

2011-10-24T16:32:00.004-05:00

Hi Inkpot Bloggers and readers,
Here are some questions sent to the Inkpot mailbag. If you have answers, please post!

Best regards,
The Inkpot Administrator

First question:
Pen names/pseudonyms. When to use, when to avoid? I publish both for teens/adults (PG 13 and up), and younger kiddos. A previous advisor suggested I use a pseudonym for one of these groups. Because, for example, if Dave Pilkey started writing bodice-ripping romance novels, young Pilkey fans might get ahold of them by mistake, and librarians might become skeptical of Pilkey's appropriateness even in his fiction for kids (Captain No-Underpants?). What do you think? Sincerely, Dave Pilkey (no, not really)

Next question:
Hi Inkpotters: In my notes from this past summer [Hamline] residency is a quote from either a lecture or a workshop session (it's listed on a page of quotes that I keep, so there's no context)--it's a great quote but I failed to include who said it and I"m hoping some Inkpotter out there will know. The quote is: "Fiction is emotion made visible." Any idea who belongs to this quote? Thanks in advance for any info you might have. Gail Israel

Third and final question:
Hello. I'm a middle school teacher looking for leveled texts on dystopia/utopia. Our base book is The Giver and many of my students are around a 3rd or 4th grade reading level....I've been looking for picture books or at least lower leveled books, but to no avail. Just wondering if you have any suggestions? Thanks! Michelle

Writers are Great at Calculus!

2011-10-22T09:50:00.002-05:00

So I was telling my husband about the latest ideas in the story that I’m plotting out and he says, “It’s getting better and better all the time. You would be so good at calculus.” You can see why I love this man:

a) he likes my stories!

b) he thinks I would be good at calculus!

I never took calculus. Not in high school. Not in college. But my husband did. You have to, long before they give you a PhD in math, which he got, writing a thesis about Group Theory in Finite Geometries. And now he teaches Calculus to high schoolers. And he says, and I trust him, that the heart of calculus is to take a problem that you don’t know how to solve and find a way to make an estimate. Then keep making that estimate a little bit better, and then a little bit better, and then a little bit better. Keeping working at it and the difference between your solution and the final solution doesn’t matter because:

a) you know how to make your estimate a little bit better

b) eventually, your revised, revised, revised estimate will point you to a final solution.

Dr. Math said that I contributed to his understanding of calculus in this way because he saw how writers write and revise and revise and revise. There’s a lot to love about that man.

Keep rocking the calculus my friends!

In Trouble: About Publishing Controversial Books

2011-10-21T07:46:00.011-05:00

In 2009 Ellen Levine came to our winter residency and gave a wonderful lecture on writing non-fiction. We all really enjoyed having her with us for those few wintry days.

During that stay, she mentioned that she had written a novel set in the sixties that involved an unwanted pregnancy and an abortion and she was having trouble placing it. During her time in Minneapolis she made contact with Andrew Karre at Carolrhoda. Andrew admired the novel and was happy to offer Ellen a contract. It’s now published, In Trouble. Last Saturday Ellen gave another insightful talk, at the Boston Book Festival. The subject of her talk this time: her experiences in writing a novel that involves a controversial topic.

Reading this talk is almost like having her back with us--except it's not snowing. Welcome Ellen Levine!

Project Run Away

2011-10-19T12:32:00.020-05:00

What do you do when a character creeps into your writing room, a character who isn't part of the WIP you're required to send to your advisor/agent/editor? Do you trust the Muse and write whatever this character whispers in your ear? Do you run away from her and focus on your deadline? Or, do you work on both? Do you ignore your hygiene and your dog and career, and life, in general (sorry for the melodrama) and write what the Muse provides because that fire burning in your soul, the one that's smoldering in your fingertips, won't extinguish any other way? You're the story's agent. You must give her a voice, yet the other WIP, and its revisions and its deadline aren't as appealing, not as fun, and is due real soon.

Any advice? Do y'all work on both WIPs? Run away from one? Or, in the words of the great Tim Gunn: "Do you make it work?"

Just curious...

Where's Waldo? Ralph Waldo Emerson, That Is

2011-10-17T11:54:00.002-05:00

I love this quote from RWE:

" . . . days come and go like muffled and vague figures sent from a distant, friendly party, but they say nothing and if we do not use the gifts they bring, they carry them away silently."

It's such a sweet reminder to me (and to you) to write every day. The body craves exercise because it wants to be used. The mind likes to be tickled by big, difficult books and used until its synapses smoke. A piano plays better when it doesn't just stand in the corner. Thoroughbreds don't want to just stare out of their stalls; they want to run.

Write a haiku while you're stuck in traffic or waiting outside the grade school. Edit a single page. The days don't care how well you write, where you write or how you're dressed. They just want to be used.

Walt Whitman said, "What is called good is perfect and what is called bad is also perfect." And Walt didn't waste any time, either.

Cheers to our Alums: Books and Agents, Oh, My

2011-10-16T19:54:00.006-05:00

What a delight it's been in the last ten days to collect news from our Hamline alums about their writing successes with agents, book contracts and new books. We salute you all. I am sure that some news has been missed, so please add to comments. I listed in order of pub date, so keep reading. So much good news, that I had to keep it short. Congrats to all. You inspire us.

Susan Latta is now represented by agent Karen Grencik of the Red Fox Literary Agency. She also published an article “When the Sun Set” in the September issue of Appleseeds Magazine and signed a work for hire contract with Heinemann.

Diane C. Mullen signed with agent Ammi-Joan Paquette at the Erin Murphy Literary Agency.

Tracy Maurer has signed with Kendra Marcus at BookStop Literary Agency and has published numerous books in three different series at Rourke Publishing, Inc. with many more in the works.

Ann Matzke is represented by agent Michelle Andelman at Regal Literary in New York and in September had three books released by Rourke Publishing, Inc. in their Little Math series and is writing three more for Social Studies series.

Molly Beth Griffin’s picture book Loon Baby came out this past spring (2011) with Houghton Mifflin. Her first YA novel Silhouette of a Sparrow comes out next April (2012) with Milkweed Editions. Molly is also critiquing and teaching at the Loft in Minneapolis. Check out her new web site: www.mollybethgriffin.com.

Loretta Ellsworth’s new YA novel Unforgettable recently received a Kirkus starred review and a Kirkus Critic's Pick for September. Her previous novel In A Heartbeat was picked up by Scholastic Book Club and translated into Japanese and Korean.

Naomi Kinsman's Shades of Truth and Flickering Hope, the first two books in the From Sadie’s Sketchbook series (Zondervan) will be released November 18, 2011. The final two books in the series, Waves of Light and Brilliant Hues, will come out in 2012.

Debra McArthur: A Voice for Kanzas, middle grade historical novel, January 2012, with Kane Miller. Her new website/blog: www.debramcarthur.com.

Christine Hepperman’s nonfiction book City Chickens with Houghton Mifflin (which she worked on while a grad student at Hamline) will be published in May 2012- web site - www.citychickensbook.com. She also has an author site www.christineheppermann.com, where she has published some of her poems, recently published a few poems in literary journals for grownups and completed a work-for-hire book about the Bush v. Gore Supreme Court case.

Jamie Swenson has sold three picture books since signing on with Sean McCarthy at the Sheldon Fogelman Agency. Jamie met Sean at the July 2010 Hamline residency.
BIG RIG - Disney-Hyperion fall 2013, illustrated by Ned Young
BOOM BOOM BOOM - FS&G - spring 2013 illustrated by David Walker
IF YOU WERE A DOG - FS&G – pub date TBA, illustrated by Chris Raschka

Tamera Will Wissinger's GOING FISHING (tentative title) is a middle grade novel in verse that tells the story of a boy’s fishing day through a variety of poetic forms and patterns. It’s scheduled for publication with Houghton Mifflin in Spring 2013. The manuscript has already gone to copyediting and the editor is searching for an illustrator.

Cheryl Bardoe (our blogger) recently sold her fourth book to Charlesbridge - Behold the Beauty of Dung Beetles, Fall 2013. Her second book Mammoths and Mastodons: Titans of the Ice Age was named a 2011 NCTE Orbis Pictus Award for Outstanding Nonfiction Honor book.

Literary Festivals: Don't Forget Kids and Teen Lit

2011-10-16T08:36:00.003-05:00

Literary festivals abound across our country, a boon for readers and writers. I committed this week to blog in honor of Alaska Book Week, started by a dear writer friend Deb Vanasse. Deb also launched 49 Writers, a blog that links writers around that state. What is terrific about both the festival and the blog is that it exists for all readers and writers, not just the adult market. Here in Spokane every April Get Lit! takes place. A wonderful array of presentations and workshops that also includes children's/YA writers. It takes ongoing support of writers and teachers to make sure children's literature isn't left out, but well worth the effort. How about in your community? Does your community have a festival or conference for book lovers of all ages? Let us know.

I have received agent and book news from several alums and will post tomorrow on exciting developments.

Plot Discussion: Okay for Now

2011-10-14T17:01:00.002-05:00

So I’m studying some book plots in hopes of gaining insight into my own WIP. And I’m taking a workshop that encourages writers to use this model for the main plot:

Protagonist has a specific goal, with high stakes, and takes continuous actions to pursue that goal. An antagonist takes intentional, continuous steps to block the protagonist from reaching his/her goal.

Sounds good, right? Two equal forces, pitted against each other, maximizing conflict and tension throughout the story. Readers learn about and presumably root for characters by witnessing the lengths to which they will go to achieve their goals. Subplots occur that may round out, strengthen, or weaken either the protagonist or the antagonist.

With this in mind, how would you articulate the plot of Gary Schmidt’s Okay for Now, which Jackie mentioned is on the NBA short list. What is Doug Swieteck’s main goal? Who intentionally wants to block him from that goal? What actions does Doug take to achieve his goal?

Seems to me that Doug has two main goals: to fit into his new town and for his Dad not to be such a jerk. The story doesn't end until he's accomplished both of these, but already I’ve broken the mold outlined above. Plus, Doug encounters a series of opposing forces, rather than just one antagonist.

What models would you use to parse this plot? Which goal carries more weight in the story? Or do you see a different main goal? What would you say is the main plot? Vs. the subplots?

No wrong answers. Just looking for ideas…

Well there was a little glitch

2011-10-12T20:34:00.003-05:00

Every now and then there's a glitch, no matter what the endeavor. Franny Billingsley's Chime was also on the NBA short list. So now we know.

And if you happen to be at the AWP meeting in February in Chicago you can see Franny on the panel about poetry and picture books with Phyllis Root, Christine Hepperman, and me. Come if you can. I know you'll like her.

Breaking News!!!

2011-10-12T11:58:00.003-05:00

And speaking of public recognition...

Ok for Now has been named to the short list for the National Book Award! Just announced. Congratulations Gary Schmidt!

Other books chosen (out of the 278 submittted) on the Young People's Literature list are:

My Name Is Not Easy, by Debbie Dahl Edwardson
Inside Out and Back Again for Thanhha Lai
Flesh and Blood So Cheap by Albert Marrin
Shine by Lauren Myracle

Judges for the Young Peoples Literature were Marc Aronson (chair), Matt de la Pena, Nikki Grimes, Ann Brashares, and Will Weaver.

Again, congratulations, Gary. I'm happily remembering hearing Gary read from this novel last winter.

Yin & Yang: Public & Private Writing Lives

2011-10-10T18:40:00.000-05:00

I’ve been noodling on Claire’s post about the public/private sides of the writing life. We talk a lot in the Hamline community about focusing on the writing craft and writing our stories as best we can, about finding our fulfillment in the process rather than publication. That’s all good to emphasize the internal aspects of writing—the joy and satisfaction from personal growth in our own craft, hearts and minds. But writing also has an external component. It is, after all, a form of communication, which inherently implies that it is shared between a writer and an audience. For writers who want to publish their work, finding a productive intersection between the private and public writing lives is key.

Internal resources give us the stick-to-it factor needed to do the actual work of writing. But encouragement from the outside world sure can fortify us. When I’m working for months on something that I don’t know if anyone else will ever read, it feels good to get a magazine in the mail with my byline. When the plot of my current work is loosey-goosey-going-who-knows-where, it’s heartening to read at a bookstore and see children enjoy a book that has finished its journey. Good vibes don’t come just from publication—they can come from getting accepted to a workshop, or encouraging feedback from a trusted reader, or standing up and sharing at an open mic like Ron described.

We can’t all be Thoreau at Walden Pond. It’s human nature to want recognition from others, and to draw on that positive energy to fuel our work. Knowing what you need as a writer, and how to get it, is where cultivating the public life of the writer becomes important.

Public and private. Yin and yang. Everything in balance.

On Voice, Authenticity, and Goosebumps

2011-10-08T10:34:00.013-05:00

Whether singing competitions are your cup of latte' (or proof that yet another artist will sell her soul for a record deal and maybe a future, not-so-G-rated scandal), writers have a lot to learn from these shows and its contestants.

The X Factor is in the U.S. now. The show originated in the U.K. and has discovered talents like Alexandra Burke (her version of Cohen's, Hallelujah is breathtaking), Leona Lewis, Susan Boyle, etc.

Tryouts and boot camp ended last week. The contestants' experiences are similar to ours. They brave the scrutiny. They wonder if their voices are authentic enough. A five-million dollar recording contract is at stake for the winner (okay, so that part is nothing like our experiences). The judges look for a contestant with the "X Factor." That thing that no one can articulate, but we and they all know it when we hear it, and more importantly, when we feel it.

So, Jackie's post about the senses made me think about how artists in other genres can no better explain the artistic process and all its mysteries. We all do our best. And we can all learn from each other.

Take a look at this audition by Melanie Amar0: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3vmajqZIWY

In the first few seconds, we know her voice is authentic. The audience and judges know it, too. How? She sings in key, her voice is authoritative, she moves seamlessly and effortlessly from her upper register and into her lower register, while using all the tools in her singer's toolbox to "assault" the audience's senses. She sings from her soul. Even if her song choice isn't your cup of latte', I dare your goosebumps to stay asleep, especially during the falsetto. I dare them.

The point is an artist (I know; that's a big word and all) must assault the senses from the first word, that first line, through the middle, until she belts the climax from the rooftops, then follows her character towards a satisfying ending, a powerful one that leaves the reader smothered in goosebumps, breathless and wanting more.

Trust your goosebumps.

Sitting Around the Fire

2011-10-07T11:47:00.003-05:00

I'm part of a lot of poetry readings in the L.A. area. Sometimes I perform, sometimes I just listen. I was at one the other night where I read with some old friends. It was an unlikely setting: a restaurant/bar with a large glass semi-wall separating our space from the bar with its color TV and play-off games. And rather than get up and read on a stage, the mic was passed around from poet to poet. When it was my turn, I just stood up.

But here's the point. I was reminded of how primitive it is to tell a bunch of people a story. Charles and Laurel Ann and I write a loose-lined, easy-going poem, anyway. So we essentially took turns telling stories.

How far back does this go? All the way to the caves, wouldn't you think? Some mighty hunter or huntress comes in, drops forty pounds of meat and brags. Somebody has a dream and wants everybody to feel as scared or as excited as he was. Somebody at the bottom of the pecking order discovers he can lie beautifully and people will see him differently.

Can't you see the tribe around the fire, glad to be safe for another night. Maybe it's raining. A child whimpers. There's an ominous sound from outside but it turns out to be nothing. Then someone says, "The most amazing thing happened to me today." And everybody stops chewing and listens.

The logic of the senses

2011-10-07T07:50:00.003-05:00

Recently on a break from other work, I picked up Ray Bradbury’s Zen and the Art of Writing and by chance turned to this paragraph (and please insert your own pronoun of choice; this book was published a while ago when pronouns were harder to come by, so many writers stuck with just one):

"Why all this insistence on the senses? Because in order to convince your reader that he is there, you must assault each of his senses, in turn, with color, sound, taste, and texture. If your reader feels the sun on his flesh, the wind fluttering his shirt sleeves half your fight is won. The most improbable tales can be made believable, if your reader, through his senses, feels certain that he stands at the middle of events. He cannot refuse, then, to participate. The logic of events always gives way to the logic of the senses."

I love “The logic of events always gives way to the logic of the senses.” If we feel we are there, we believe it, we accept the story. I will believe I’m eating apple pie, not in someone’s kitchen but on a space ship to Mars if you tell me about the warm juicy apples, and the smell of cinnamon, and the crumbs of crust that can’t be held down because of the weird no-gravity thing in our space ship.

Here’s a quick example from popular literature. My grandson Owen has been reading the Percy Jackson series and wanted to share with me, so I’ve been reading them, too. From the first, The Lightning Thief, here’s the description of Mr. Brunner, Latin teacher : “middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard, and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee.” Well, a few pages later we learn that Mr. Brunner is actually Chiron, half-man, half-horse, trainer of gods. But we already believe in his solidity as a character because we’ve seen his thinning hair and scruffy beard and smelled the coffee of his jacket.

So much of writing is about really noticing--and then getting it down on paper. Hope the noticing and naming are going well where you are.

Time to Raise a Glass

2011-09-30T10:42:00.006-05:00

Recent news of alums getting agents and publication contracts makes me think it's time to run a post on the exciting happenings of late. Rather than comment now, please send good news to Claire via email or Facebook for a post in two weeks. Jamie, Christine, Diane, Loretta, Tamera, and other Hamline students and alums . . . No better time to celebrate.

Public Side of the Writing Life

2011-09-28T11:16:00.004-05:00

I have been off the blog recently with my energy focused on the public side of the writing life. It's a crazy sometimes, isn't it? We go from writing in our pajamas until noon to talking about a book that we wrote many moons ago, while wearing lipstick. I am happy to have launched my new book Marching With Aunt Susan: Susan B. Anthony and the Fight for Women's Suffrage with two events in Spokane recently. Saturday I head for California to present at suffrage centennial events and libraries, and Naomi Kinsman Downing's Inklings program in Menlo Park. Hurray. Support from our fellow writers is so valuable. I wish I could be in Minneapolis to attend one of Anne Ursu's upcoming book readings for her new novel Breadcrumbs. Or to have attended Mary Rockcastle's novel launch last Friday night at Hamline. Congrats to you both.

We are never too old to appreciate friendly faces in the crowd. That's what makes a Hamline residency reading so special. The entire crowd knows the journey the writer has been on and has cheered every step. At my Spokane reading, one of my writing group buddies said afterwards, "As I heard you read, I remember all your revisions and the choices you made." Those writing friends know my book like those that work backstage on a play. New readers experience only the story that exists now on the page.

Marsha Qualey was here last weekend to present at our Spokane SCBWI conference with a wonderful presentation on character. What I especially loved is for that hour in the day we didn't focus on marketing or publication, other public sides of the writing life, but rather on the writing that begins and ends with story and character.

The public side of writing is so important. We have to get out in the world to share our work and learn how to do it better. But how I also love the return to the quiet life of putting words down on paper, an energy that comes from inside.

In re Empathy

2011-09-27T13:16:00.030-05:00

ECU's Mock Trial Team is wrestling with a first-degree murder case this season. The students assume attorney and witness roles for the prosecution and defense in a fictional, 357 page case, sans addenda, that's chock-full of twists, reasonable doubt, and evidence--LOTS of evidence.

As a coach, I am duty-bound to help a student-witness enter a character's life--so that she understands the person so deeply that she becomes that person. Her role surpasses cheap acting or bathos. This is a nation-wide competition, and the team will compete with the "best." But, more importantly, a student learns to understand another's choices or lack of choices. In short, she practices empathy.

I tell a student (ad nauseum) that the jury must "feel and believe your story." You must live, eat, and breathe every facet of that person's life. The "witness" isn't a witness. She's a human being. She's a second victim. She's hurting. Or, maybe she's pleased with herself (her role as accessory--obtaining the date-rape drug for the Defendant is "no biggie"). What would she do? What would she say? How can you make her sympathetic? Make her real.

So, last week, I had a moment. I sat in the office, staring down a WIP and realized that I don't follow my own advice. I try. But, I'd committed a reckless failure to "empathize" with the protag. (done without malice aforethought, but still...). Then I got over myself, opened a blank page, and remembered that writing is an act of crafting argument, after argument, after argument, persuading the reader by offering evidence, so that she'll draw the conclusions about the character and her journey. The evidence must be believable. Or else, a reader, advisor, (or jury) won't buy it.

How do you choose the evidence (during revision) that best showcases your character? How much evidence does your reader need? How do you step into your character's skin (without committing battery)? Share your Getting-to-Know-Your-Character exercises.

BTW, Happy Book Birthday to Anne Ursu's novel, Breadcrumbs! Go, Anne! :0)

This post is adjourned...

Eating peaches on T.S. Eliot's birthday

2011-09-26T13:26:00.009-05:00

Today is T.S. Eliot's birthday. He was born in St. Louis in 1888.

A serious reader could feed off "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock," "The Wasteland," or "The Four Quartets" for a long time and still leave plenty of meaning on the bones for the next reading.

But today I want to celebrate his birthday with a bit of wonderful description of a cat,
Macavity: The Mystery Cat in Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats:

Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.

We are already following this cat, just from these few lines, because he's a thinker, alert even when he looks asleep. Yet he's thin, neglected, a loner.

We can learn a lot about describing characters from the practical cats. In fact, just reading this poem makes me want to read the whole book and then try to describe a neighborhood cat or a remembered dog.

Of course we could learn from Eliot's more serious poems, too. But that's a huge topic, for another birthday--or a year's worth of birthdays. Still, I can't leave without saying thanks to T.S. Eliot for these lines from "Little Gidding" the fourth of The Four Quartets--

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

Let's eat a peach for T.S. Eliot and not cease from our exploring and, as Gertrude Stein must have said (because I wrote it down in January, 2010, at our residency): "Write bravely."

ur exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

Nurse, More Anesthesia, Please

2011-09-23T11:45:00.002-05:00

This really belongs under Cheryl's post about memory but it's a little long. Here's the skinny --

I don't want to remember what I've written. At all. I like to come to yesterday's pages as if I've never seen them before. Forgetting is easy for me. I can remember the name of every horse that swept past the favorite and cost me money, but I look up the phone number of somebody I call all the time. I've always been this way. I don't need more lecithin.

The other day I was e-chatting with a guy who wanted me to write a blog piece for him. He quoted passages from "Stoner & Spaz" and asked me how I made them so memorable. I said if I knew that I'd be rich and famous.

But I do know how I do it. A little bit, anyway. I'm a ruthless cutter, as most of you know. So when I barely remember yesterday's work it's easy to see what needs to stay and what should go. I'm a little like the surgeon who operates willingly on strangers but wouldn't want to cut on somebody he loved.

Anyway, remembering everything reminds me of clinging. Koala bears cling and they're cute, but they're crappy writers. Don't be a koala. Be a surgeon. The pay is better.

Remembering Stories

2011-09-22T16:32:00.002-05:00

Has anyone read Moonwalking With Einstein, by Joshua Foer? The author explores the world of competitive memorizing, including contests to see who can be the first to memorize the order of a deck of cards. Mental athletes prepare for these feats by associating each card with a person, action, and object. Foer explains:

“The king of hearts, for me, was Michael Jackson moonwalking with a white glove. The king of clubs was John Goodman eating a hamburger, and the king of diamonds was Bill Clinton smoking a cigar. If I were to memorize the king of hearts, king of clubs, and king of diamonds in order, I would create an image of Michael Jackson eating a cigar.”

Thus remembering the order of 52 cards becomes streamlined into remembering the order of 17 images. What strikes me about this is how interwoven the process of story is with the process of memory. Essentially, the memory champions translate small sets of cards into mini-stories that are so absurd that they stick in the brain. The power of the image comes partially from the randomness of the juxtaposition, and partially from whatever symbolic power is embedded in the people, actions and objects that were originally chosen. The more potent those items are to start, the more haunting the image.

It’s interesting to then extrapolate to our work…and think of each story as a series of powerful images, built by words, that we hope will stick in readers’ brains. Or perhaps the images call forth the readers’ own memories as they relate a story to their lives. Or consider the role of memory in creating our stories.

Just a few thoughts to noodle on--when you aren’t busy memorizing decks of cards.

Revision Time And the Livin' Ain't Easy

2011-09-18T11:13:00.018-05:00

Distractions, distractions, distractions... The fall weather, and its air, tinged with burning firewood, the leaves, on the cusp of that fire-color, and coffee shops summonsing you inside for a pumpkin-spiced latte, will tempt the most disciplined among us. Despite what Annie Dillard says, this is still a fave time of year to write. Thick cardigans, long, striped socks, and crock pot dinners fuel this writer. Period.

Ever notice that when we reach part of a story that feels impossible, that will require a total re-haul, that just ain't working, everything else is more appealing? What if we incorporate those distractions into the process? Hey, if we're on Facebook for an hour, we may as well do so, guilt-free. Right?

You're nodding right now, huh?

What if your character had a Facebook page? I don't suggest that you create one for real. Unless, you want to... Warning: Nothing would help your non-writerly friends commit you faster than if your MC, a toad named Mr. Warts, who wears a bow tie and is single and interested in men and women, friend requested them. Seriously.

Think about the FB template. Who would be your character's top friends? Who would the character list as family? Who would she leave out? How about those photo albums? How would she organize and name them? Favorite books? Songs? Whose friend requests would she accept? Even better, whom would she deny?

Try it. Facebook's callin'. Time to pour a cup o' pumpkin spice and log-in, guilt-free.

What's on your MC's FB page?

Connecting With Colleagues: SCBWI

2011-09-16T11:08:00.006-05:00

In Chicago, my office was in the basement—ensconced in classic ‘70s knotty pine paneling, glass block windows and an uneven cement floor just perfect for roller skating on and busting your head open. Here in Connecticut, my office is a writer’s dream, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and quaint half-shuttered windows. Oddly, I’m still located right by the washer/dryer. And it’s still just me, sitting here, alone, typing away and not doing laundry.

One of the most wonderful aspects of Hamline is connecting to a strong writers community. Another great place to find colleagues is the Society for Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. Most folks know about the many conferences and events organized by SCBWI each year. In addition, regional chapters provide a variety of opportunities for personal and professional growth:

- Check out the Illinois chapter’s autumn issue of The Prairie Wind. Besides being chock full of information, publications like these provide opportunities for publishing and editing experience. Hamline alumna Jodell Sadler is writing a regular PW column that analyzes craft elements in books. I’ve been assistant editor for the last four years—a boon to both my skills and résumé.

- Hamline alumni Amy Laughlin, Kristin Aker Howell and Naomi Kinsman Downing are collectively the regional advisors for the San Francisco South chapter. Contributing in any capacity to planning and executing programs often offers a deeper perspective on our industry.

- Many chapters have listservs of some variety, where members can cheer each other on and swap advice on everything from the writing process to skyping school visits. Publishers know about these networks too, and sometimes circulate job opportunities or “wish lists” for manuscripts.

The best part of all is having colleagues, and the camaraderie of working together--no matter how far apart our desks are in their various basements and book-filled nooks.

"What Do Women Want"

2011-09-14T10:10:00.002-05:00

Don't worry. I'm not going to try and answer that question. In fact, it's just the title of a Kim Addonizio poem that I love and that I recently happened onto. Here it is w/out it's title --

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.

Doesn't that just kill? Kim is a tough cookie, anyway, and lots of her poetry is scalding. I like to turn people onto poems and to poets like Kim because I don't think living poets get read enough. Thanks to the net, lots of terrific poems are on-line and free. You can read more by Kim or Dorrianne Laux or Denise Duhamel or Tony Hoagland just by hitting a few buttons.

By the way, thinking back to last week's censorship discussions, poetry is rarely censored. Here's an old joke that everybody in the poetry business knows: Q. "What happens to poets who write obscene poems that advocate overthrowing the government?" A. "They get published in an independent literary magazine."

Ba-dum. Rim shot. And often painfully true.

Express trains and locals

2011-09-13T14:32:00.007-05:00

When I was in Maine in August, Rich and my brother and I drove north to Aroostook County to see my mother. We stopped for coffee before heading into the north woods--and ended up buying books. I was excited to find, at half-price, Stephen Sondheim’s memoir Finishing the Hat. For this month I’ve been bopping along with Sondheim as he tells the stories of his own writing. And this week I’ve also been thinking about Claire’s recent post on writing about 9/11, and by extension, any tragic or complicated moment.

We know that when writers are dealing with hard, heavy stuff they often break it up with humor—the classic example is the Porter’s long speech in Macbeth, right after Macbeth and Lady Macbeth have murdered the king. Humor is part of the pacing of tragedy.

Where I am in the songwriter’s career is not at a tragic moment but farcical. Sondheim is recounting the difficulties of writing music for A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum: “I grumbled that Forum would be better off as a play than a musical…Burt [Shevelove, co-writer of the book] replied that if it were just a play, it would be relentlessly and unrelievedly funny and the audience, unable to recover between gasps of laughter, would soon become restless for a breathing space.”

Sondheim goes on to say, “The tighter the plotting the better the farce, but the better the farce the more the songs interrupt the flow and pace. Farces are express trains; musicals are locals. Savoring moments can be effective while a farce is gathering steam, but deadly once the train gets going. That’s why the songs in Forum are bunched together in the first half of the first act, where there is more exposition than action, and then become scarcer and scarcer until the last twenty minutes before the Finale there are no songs at all.”

I’m still thinking about how this applies to writing novels or non-fiction, but I’m glad for the increased awareness of the momentum of a piece of writing. And I’m glad for the metaphors. Maybe it’s true for all of us--sometimes our writing is an express train, sometimes it’s a local. And the question then is what material is best suited for the local train, what for the express?

Writing About 9/11

2011-09-11T09:40:00.008-05:00

I didn't expect to be writing a post today. It's a beautiful morning and the outdoor beckons. But all week I have been reading and listening to commentaries on the anniversary of 9/11 and this morning I couldn't help but ponder - how do we write about 9/11 for young readers? Most of whom were not alive when the tragic event happened. How does it affect our writing choices ten years later?

I remember that morning all too well, as vivid as JFK's assassination or the Challenger disaster. For my kids, 9/11 is a defining moment for them as teens. Early out in the West, that morning we were just getting our day started when our daughter's boyfriend called to tell us to turn on the TV. Our son had just started his senior year in high school. Now as an adult, he can read novels like Spokane author Jess Walters' National Book award finalist The Zero with his own experience of the event.

But our readers know only what they hear and read about. Some children's writers have effectively used the towers as a metaphor for the pre-9/11 New York City as in the picture book The Man Who Walked Between Two Towers by Mordicai Gerstein. The Little Chapel that Stood by A. B. Curtiss is a 40 page picture book that features the respite St. Paul's church near Ground Zero offered workers and families.

I believe the most effective picture book that combines both pre and post 9/11 NYC is Maira Kalman's 2002 book "Fireboat: The Heroic Adventures of the John J. Harvey." The story traces the boat's decades of service and especially how it rescued trapped people on September 11th and pumped water for four days in the ravaged city.

Many nonfiction titles have been written about the events. In 2002 twenty children's/YA authors contributed to 911: The Book of Help (Authors Respond to the Tragedy.) But was nine years ago.

I remember reading a YA novel about a girl whose mother died in the towers and she had to leave NYC for a new life with her father. I can't remember or locate the title. Anyone? Can you suggest any well written YA or MG novels that feature 9/11?
I just found a blog listing new 9/11 books, forty titles for adults and only two for children/YA readers: Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan and America is Under Attack: September 11, 2001, The Day the Towers Fell by Don Brown. Why is this so?

How does 9/11 and its aftermath affect us writers ten years later? For me, I believe it's an undercurrent in my life, a feeling that America no longer stands alone. We are one world and by god we'd better figure that out - sooner than later.

Weigh in, folks. I'm just thinking aloud this morning. Has 9/11 affected your writing? Should it?

Stick a Fork in It

2011-09-09T10:03:00.027-05:00

I'm done--such deceptive words. Is the end ever THE END? We all know a story goes on after the final word. If I like a book, my pace slows, and I savor every word, reading at the speed of an inebriated snail [an escargot]. This draft of a new WIP doesn't yet have an ending. The closets needed organizing [three times]. The university Mock Trial Team needed a kick-off party. Shell needed six walks yesterday and her toy bin reorganized three times.

As a painter, I step away from a painting when a chill comes over me. Seriously, the muscles in my upper body quiver. I sense the painting's done. I walk away, pleased, ready to begin a new one--which reminds me of a lyric from Semisonic's song Closing Time: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end..." Maybe none of those paintings are finished. Maybe their endings are only the beginning of a future painting.

Do y'all think we ever finish our stories? Similar themes, situations, places reemerge because we aren't ever ending anything? Are we all end-o-phobic?

The ending of this new WIP is driving me batty. The end is near--it's called a deadline. Maybe the end's buried somwhere in Chapter 18. Anyway, at least the apartment's organized.

So, how do you know when you're finished? When's your story over? What makes an ending, an ending?

The End.

Forks, WA: Tourist Haven for Twilight Lovers

2011-09-09T09:56:00.005-05:00

Two weeks ago my husband had business out on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington state and I joined him for an extended pleasure trip of stunning Pacific Ocean scenery and wildlife. One morning we stopped in the little town of Forks for coffee. Forks used to be a thriving lumber town. Now it is a thriving literary haven for Twilight fans. I am not going to pretend to be a big fan of the series, but I do admire the excitement it has brought to readers, to the point of visiting the fictional locations of Bella and Edward's haunts.

I chatted up the clerk at the grocery store and learned that Stephanie Meyer has visited Forks twice, once after the first book came out and later after one of the movie premieres. It's fairly well known that Meyer chose the rainiest/foggiest town in America for her setting, researching the location on the Internet. We don't always need to visit the locations of our stories. But we do need to evoke a deep sense of place in our stories. Does Meyer evoke the essence of Forks in her Twilight books? Apparently so. To the point, that the Chamber of Commerce even designated on a map a home that Bella likely would have lived in and the Italian restaurant in Port Angeles where Bella and Edward likely had their first date.

As Cheryl posted recently, setting is always a big factor in our writing - where our stories take place and where we live while writing them. Few authors have devoted fans who visit their story locations. But we can all work on writing vivid settings that draw readers in. What's a popular literary haunt in your part of the country?

Through sunshine and hurricanes, fall leaves and winter snow, write on.

Censorship? Or Parenting?

2011-09-07T08:48:00.002-05:00

That’s the classic debate that comes up when Ron mentions parents who read the books they don’t want their children to read. I’m that kind of parent. I don’t consider it censorship, since I’m not campaigning for decisions in my home to become mandated policy in other homes. But plenty of folks have told me they are surprised that an author would be a “censor” for her own children.

So is it censorship or parenting when I don’t allow my son to read Diary of a Wimpy Kid until he’s in 5th grade? I first said no when we saw it at the school bookfair last fall. Said no again after each report of the many other 7-year-olds in his class who were reading it. Said no for a final time when sending teary boy back to the school library with a book that he’d checked out even though I’d already said no. I didn’t say “never.” But to a 7-year-old “in a few years” might as well be “never.”

We did read a few chapters together. When I asked why Ethan thought them funny, he pointed to the most surface level of slapstick. Everything else sailed over his head. Guess I could let him read the series now…then it’d be old hat by the time he’s mature enough to understand why some call the main character a “bad role model.” Would be a shame, though, for him to miss out on the true heart and humor of the books. A double shame really, because what other books wouldn’t we have time for that he’s in the sweet spot for now?

I “censored” Beverly Cleary in the same way. We held off on reading the Ramona books because my son doted on his baby sister and there was no need to plant the seed that little sisters can be annoying. Now that he’s 8 and she’s 4, they’ve reached that place in their own good time—and the Ramona books are perfect! I expect that’s what will happen with the Wimpy Kid series in a few years. And by then, there will be a whole new set of books for which I’m saying “no” or “not right now.”

Love Me or Leave Me

2011-09-06T09:42:00.002-05:00

As a sidebar to the blog tour I took for NOW PLAYING, people contact my publicity gals to see if I want want to write something else. Like 500 words on censorship. Sure, why not. This isn't that piece, of course. This is a blog. But I do have an extra thought or two, and here they are. Do I feel censored when a librarian puts STONER & SPAZ on a special shelf dedicated to challenged books? Not really. I like to be in a little bit of trouble, anyway. And the company is good on those shelves. Mark Twain is usually there, and he's a hoot.

Once or twice in the past, I sat on panels about censorship. Naturally the sponsors assumed I was against censorship, and I guess I was. But I liked the parents who'd read books they didn't want in their homes and were both passionate and articulate about it. Afterwards I told some of them that I admired their position and they were stunned that I wasn't busy dragging their children to the brink of the fiery pit and had time to be cordial.

And then there's the phenomenon called Hardening the Collective. That occurs when Side A of the censorship issue shouts at Side B and B shouts back. Neither can change its mind. Neither wants to. Firm beliefs ossify. Then rigor mortis sets in. I don't want to be part of that. I'm busy being snarky and shouting at slow race horses.

And anyway -- is it really my job to defend what I write? Some people won't like some of it; others will love it. I'll settle for that.

Giuseppe Verdi in the attic...in the rain

2011-09-04T06:28:00.008-05:00

Yesterday afternoon was one of those rainy times when it felt just right to settle in with the latest issue of the Horn Book Magazine.

Of course I wanted to take a look at “Project Child’s Play,” by Hamline’s own Betsy Thomas, in which Heidi moderates as Peter Rabbit, Madeline, and Pinocchio judge new “looks” created for some of our favorite children’s book characters by some of our favorite book characters—Cinderella, Eeyore, Puss in Boots. Read it and laugh. It “Could not [be] more fabulous!”

And there’s a nice review of Ron’s Now Playing:Stoner & Spaz II.

And, since it was still raining, I went to Leonard Marcus’s interview with Maurice Sendak about his new book Bumble- Ardy. Sendak is as crusty as ever—and as stimulating.

What really stood out for me in this interview was the varied combination of influence and circumstance that resulted in Bumble-Ardy. Though the book is about a party, it did not come from an excess of happiness in Sendak’s life. Instead, he said, “It was a very difficult time. I was working on it when my partner and friend was dying of cancer…Eugene died, and then I had bypass surgery. I was doing the book to stay sane….”

Also important to Bumble-Ardy was a book Sendak was reading on the Italian composer Giuseppe Verdi. Verdi was partly important to him because the composer produced two of his best operas after he turned eighty. This fact spurred Sendak to try for “something extraordinary” at this time in his life. There was more-- Sendak suggests the palette for this new book is “Verdi-esque.” He goes on, “Verdi was such an enormous help to me as I worked on the book.”

So we have: a miserable, grieving time in the writer’s life and Giuseppe Verdi. Then add in Sendak’s memories of Coney Island, his own childhood (of course), his continuing “deep feeling for children who are in dire trouble,” and maybe even the personality of Ursula Nordstrom.

This interview is a reminder that, though we aren’t, and shouldn’t be, aware of it while we are writing, our books are like our dreams, made up of the crazy variety that’s stored in the mental attic. Nothing is wasted.

Introducing East-Coast-Cheryl

2011-09-01T13:28:00.001-05:00

So I’ve been offline while we made the big move. Within two weeks we’re unpacked, pictures and drapes are hung, and the moving boxes are handed off to others a la Craig’s List. Poof! Like magic, I’m transformed from Chicago/Midwest-Cheryl into Connecticut/East-Coast-Cheryl.

Gives new perspective to the Hamline residency that focuses on setting. I grew up in Ohio and have been in Chicago for 22 years. When my husband applied for his new job, I wondered, “Can I live on the East Coast? What parts of me will stay the same? What will be different?” The only way to find out was to come.

So far, East-Coast-Cheryl is addicted to the iphone app that shows my car as a purple dot on a roadmap. Roads here don’t subscribe to the grid system and street signs are inexplicably underfunded. Lots of people rely on geo-whatever-brand-mapping systems these days, but the important thing here is how my character feels about this detail of setting in my story. Chicago-Cheryl didn’t even have an iphone (there’s a telling character detail for you). Chicago-Cheryl knew where things and even when I didn’t, street signs and a glorious grid system were there to guide me. East-Coast-Cheryl feels indignant about major intersections with traffic lights and multiple spokes but zero street signs. I recognize, however, that nobody here thinks twice about it, which then makes East-Coast-Cheryl feel somewhat powerless in this new setting. Writer-Wherever-She-is-Living-Cheryl thinks there’s fodder here for a story in which getting lost is a repeating motif and spurs key plot points.

Don’t worry, I’m actually settling in fine. But I did previously promise an existential-identity-crisis post and don’t want to disappoint. And hey, East-Coast-Cheryl gets to eat soup and wear sweaters in the evenings as early as late August. Dig that.

So how does setting influence the character in a story you’re writing?

Or how did setting define something in your own life today that might be fuel for your stories?

Writer, What a Big Story You Have! Better Cut It, My Dear

2011-08-26T15:00:00.016-05:00

We're all told to cut our stories. We know we should. It's a rule. Give your reader the tip of the iceberg, not the whole darn thing. Jackie devoted a post to finding the "ness" instead of pouring all that we know about a character onto the page. But will cutting ever hurt the story? What if you're an over-cutter [this is like being an overachiever only with a delete button]? Do such stories exist? Have you ever wanted more?

When does cutting hurt the voice? Are you a minimalist who must flesh out the story? I can think of several examples where the protagonist's voice wouldn't be her own if the author had wielded a scalpel like Hannibal--Ida B comes to mind.

Are you a staunch pro-cutter? What happens if you cut a major plot artery? What if the voice bleeds off the page?

What do y'all think?

*Irene's fast approaching the NC coast. She's a pro-cutter; the electricity's first on her list. Time to gather the candles and lanterns and cut this draft. Stay safe, East Coasters!*

Amelie Nothomb

2011-08-26T09:24:00.002-05:00

I've been reading AN and reading about her, so I thought I'd chat a little. She's difficult and interesting. She calls herself "a numerous being." And she says, "Writing for me is a descent into myself to a place where I'm entirely porous and where I can let myself be penetrated by all the individuals I could have been in all of humanity."

She also calls writing a sacred act and says this about her deep need to write: "Is it a matter of life or death? From the moment where it's a matter of life or death, then I have the right to write."

Jeez, Amelie -- relax. I get a little cranky when I don't write, but I don't need to call 911.

Still, I love the idea of being porous, and writing can be a sacred act. I know a writer who every morning cleans and polishes her desk, arranges some expensive paper just so and then sits quietly so she can hear the Muse in her bare feet enter quietly, look over her shoulder, then begin to whisper in her ear.

Polishing shoes and other tasks

2011-08-25T13:34:00.004-05:00

Yesterday was one of those days between projects when it was hard to focus on any one thing. Definitely a “hummingbird brain” day. So I took to reading poetry, thinking that might help me to settle down.

And I found one of my favorites:

Those Winter Sundays

Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early

and put on his clothes in the blueblack cold,

then with cracked hands that ached

from labor in the weekday weather made

banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.

When the rooms were warm, he’d call,

and slowly I would rise and dress,

fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,

who had driven out the cold

and polished my good shoes as well.

What did I know, what did I know

of love’s austere and lonely offices?

There is much that I love about this poem, but one thing especially struck me yesterday—the heartbreaking detail of the father, alone, polishing his son’s shoes on Sunday morning.

It made me wonder about other fictional characters who reveal themselves by taking care in doing the simplest of acts.

And the other side of finding fictional characters-- inventing. Seems like it would be an interesting exercise for those times when nothing seems to be there: write about a character doing a simple, humble act, but an act that reveals heart and motive, something like washing dishes, changing the oil in the car, re-glazing a window, combing the tangles out of a child’s hair, or the young man in Liza Ketchum’s story who bakes bread.

Almost 30 dollars But Worth It

2011-08-21T13:01:00.002-05:00

I've been a little tardy vis a vis the Inkpot (Did I say that last time?), so will make up some ground here.

I just got Garrison Keillor's newest anthology of poetry called GOOD POEMS. All of them were heard on "The Writer's Almanac" so you know they're easy to listen to and easy to read. There are way too many cool poems to quote, but here are some smidgens from the Contributors' Page where every poet gets to write a little something about poetry:

Edward Field: "Poetry is no different from newspapers. What you think about is what you should write about."

Rodney Jones: "I'm against all the games that might be played in a poem like "guess what's behind my back.' Everything I do in a poem can be seen."

Ted Kooser: "I revise toward clarity and away from difficulty, wanting the poem to appear to be written with ease."

Linda Pastan: "I stopped writing for almost ten years and I was very unhappy. Finally my husband said he was tired of hearing what a good poet I might have been if I hadn't gotten married."

There are more, but those are only the notes-in-the-back! Can you even imagine how good the poems are?

P.S. And, yes -- I'm in there, too.