►Do you hate the smell of rejection in the morning? So do these guys but they have a suggestion.
►I'm guessing every high school English teacher and college freshman comp instructor is groaning over the idea of "logical" punctuation.
►If your fiction is plodding along, maybe your plot needs help. Check out the Plot Whisperer blog's author interviews.
►I missed this minor brouhaha, but apparently there was an uncommon event at the White House – a Poetry Workshop for 77 young poets. Some folks got a bit upset.
►Interesting article on the evolving intersection of blogs, vlogs and tweets, what their authors bring to the reader/viewer conversation, and traditional publishers. Maybe we all need one another after all?
►Sometimes what's good for what ails you, at least if you are a reader, is a "devastatingly sad" book, perhaps one on this list. What's yours?
Friday, May 20, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Writers: When offered help, do you say YES?
A few years ago at a writing conference, I took a master class with a writer who'd published novels, memoirs and essay collections. About 12 writers met with this author for several hours over two days for a combination of lecture, discussion and workshop. The second day's class focused on the first two pages of a manuscript, with each of us reading ours aloud for feedback. At the end of the session, the author offered to take another look at any two-page rewrites that resulted; all we need do is email them to him with a reminder note.
I thought he was maybe just being polite, or that he'd send back a standard perfunctory reply along the lines of "Good work and good luck." I figured he must be too busy anyway. Then weeks went by. A few months. And when I did finally think about following through, I decided he probably wouldn't even remember making the offer.
Then one day when I was feeling particularly miserable, his card found its way to the top of my messy desk. A week later, I'd rewritten those two pages based partly on his critique and hit send, reasoning the worst that could happen was he'd ignore my email.
Three days later, I got a response – several paragraphs on precisely what he thought I'd done well in the rewrite, and a few more specific suggestions for further development. And at the end, a P.S. "You are the only writer in that class who took me up on my offer. Actually, I've made that offer about four times in the last two years, and have only heard from two writers, you included."
I was floored. What idiot writer would pass on the opportunity to get further feedback from a writer of this man's stature, at no additional cost? Well, me, almost.
I thought about this again recently after I got back from another conference and realized that the writing world is probably littered with similarly squandered opportunities.
What writer hasn't at least once received an unexpected and generous offer (from a writer, agent, editor, publisher), to look over something at no cost or obligation – a proposal, manuscript pages, idea, query letter, synopsis, contract – or to otherwise provide additional assistance, advice, contact? And how many times have we either let it slip through the cracks of memory or busy-ness, or filed it too deeply in the back of our minds, or figured he/she was just being polite or wouldn't have the time or interest to respond anyway, or would have forgotten they'd even made the offer?
As for me, the next time someone extends me such an offer, I plan to surprise that person and follow up.
I thought he was maybe just being polite, or that he'd send back a standard perfunctory reply along the lines of "Good work and good luck." I figured he must be too busy anyway. Then weeks went by. A few months. And when I did finally think about following through, I decided he probably wouldn't even remember making the offer.
Then one day when I was feeling particularly miserable, his card found its way to the top of my messy desk. A week later, I'd rewritten those two pages based partly on his critique and hit send, reasoning the worst that could happen was he'd ignore my email.
Three days later, I got a response – several paragraphs on precisely what he thought I'd done well in the rewrite, and a few more specific suggestions for further development. And at the end, a P.S. "You are the only writer in that class who took me up on my offer. Actually, I've made that offer about four times in the last two years, and have only heard from two writers, you included."
I was floored. What idiot writer would pass on the opportunity to get further feedback from a writer of this man's stature, at no additional cost? Well, me, almost.
I thought about this again recently after I got back from another conference and realized that the writing world is probably littered with similarly squandered opportunities.
What writer hasn't at least once received an unexpected and generous offer (from a writer, agent, editor, publisher), to look over something at no cost or obligation – a proposal, manuscript pages, idea, query letter, synopsis, contract – or to otherwise provide additional assistance, advice, contact? And how many times have we either let it slip through the cracks of memory or busy-ness, or filed it too deeply in the back of our minds, or figured he/she was just being polite or wouldn't have the time or interest to respond anyway, or would have forgotten they'd even made the offer?
As for me, the next time someone extends me such an offer, I plan to surprise that person and follow up.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Friday Fridge Clean-Out: May 13, 2011 Edition
Note: Blogger is having problems. For those who subscribe by email, I have no idea why you got a post delivered today from January, and yesterday's post is now lost in space....yep, it's Friday the 13th all right. Which means it's time to clean the fridge...
For my new readers, hopping over from Catbird Scout, Face Things, Alltop, and Practicing Writing, what I do (most) Fridays is serve up a mix of interesting things I've come across online. It's named after the way I feed my family most Friday nights – cooking (or at least assembling) whatever I find in my fridge. Sometimes the result is a tasty, satisfying meal; other times, well – judge for yourself. Enjoy!
► Midge Raymond offers Ten Tips for a Writing Life. I happen to like number 10: "Remind yourself of why you write. Sometimes I get grouchy about not having enough time to write; other times, I’m grouchy because I have to sit down and slog through a beastly first draft. This is when I need to remind myself that I choose to do this, every day."
► Check out the "nearly100 fantastic pieces of journalism" from 2010, according to The Atlantic's Conor Friedersdorf. A few of my favorites are on the list, including Autism's First Child (John Donvan and Caren Zucker), Letting Go (Atul Gawande), Roger Ebert: The Essential Man (Chris Jones), and The Lost Girls (Mimi Swartz).
► Got a bad case of book deal envy? Horribly jealous of your (better / more frequently) published writer friends? What to do? Get over yourself, according to Dear Sugar at The Rumpus.
► Over at The Renegade Writer, Julie Fast talks about how writers can get work done even when depressed. (I'd say that should come in handy for…oh maybe everyone?)
► I hear that my friend Christin Geall made a dynamic presentation at the Creative Nonfiction Collective Conference in Banff, Canada, about "Momoir" -- and the implications of that term and the genre. If you're in the area, you can catch Christin later this month at a nonfiction panel, To Tell The Truth, sponsored by the Malahat Review, at the Greater Vancouver Public Library.
► More friends doing cool things: Christina Baker Kline and Deborah Siegel are partnering to present a day long program in Brooklyn on May 21, for writing mothers who want to restart, kick-start or otherwise light a fire in their writing lives. Can't go? Then at least read Christina's 20 ideas for rejuvenating your writing life, right where you are.
► Finally, what is a Pop-Up Magazine? (Hint: this sounds like the kind of literary event even my husband might like.)
Have a great weekend.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Memory, nonfiction, and writing about the here and now
I've always been interested in how nonfiction writers work with memories, recreating on the page the events of our past. I even occasionally give presentations to writers groups about it, and also cover the topic in some of my classes. I'm interested in how we can retrieve bits of stubborn memories, how the writing process itself helps loosen additional details, and what we can do to work around, through and sometimes without, the memories we think are necessary to tell a particular story.
I think this intrigues me because a large portion of my creative nonfiction work has pivoted on incidents from at least five years in the past, and some goes back further – 10, 20, even 30 years ago. Although my freelance journalism activities have included a fair share of reporting and opining keyed to current events, for creative nonfiction, it's looking back, often far back, that has always felt more comfortable to me.
Then my father died in 2006, and suddenly I had a compelling need to write about that experience, not so long after it occurred. Slowly, over the four-plus years since, more and more of the present (or more recent past) has crept into my work.
And then last summer, I did what for me, was rather strange: wrote a personal essay about what was happening in my life, right then. I did not fool myself that the piece had the same kind of depth and nuance, the same kind of reflective insight and long-lens perspective I liked to see on the page; but then again, there was a certain energy and tone to it that I liked. Here's how and why it happened.
Last May, I was asked to write twice a month for the Love Mom section at Your Tango. Technically, this made me a (paid) blogger, though my editor and I agreed my pieces wouldn't be casual chronicles, but personal essays. The site typically skews to a younger readership, but I was to represent the slightly older Mom voice, the one with experience, teenage children, and a 22 year marriage.
It was an interesting learning curve, as my (now former) twenty-something editor and I wrestled with getting the tone right, somewhere between here's-what-I-know-for-sure and despite-my-experience-I'm-as-clueless-as-every-other-mother. I experimented with essays that reached back to specific events from when my boys were babies – such as how a miscarriage once affected holiday plans, and my initial reluctance at the prospect of motherhood -- and those noting current struggles, but still reliant on echoes of past experience – such as my annual family-free week, and making peace with being just good enough.
Then last summer, faced with a deadline and operating on scant sleep while across the country at my mother's and on the third week of hospital bedside duty, and missing my family, I decided to let fly with an of-the-moment essay about the mixed emotions stirred by the situation. After getting over the small tremor of fear that my siblings would be upset by the piece, I rather liked the experience. Since then, I've continued to write about what's happening, as it happens, including a follow-up when my mother had another heart attack and I decided not to fly to her side. In one of my favorite pieces, I wrote about anticipating how much I'll miss the family routines we take for granted today, when they are one day gone.
While I don't write or think of these essays in the same manner I do the longer, deeper pieces I continue to work on for other venues, I've grown quite fond of writing them. As I tell my students all the time, shorter is harder, and at less than 800 words, these short pieces are a useful way to practice what I teach.
Going back to the idea of memory, I've also discovered – or rather reconfirmed what I probably already knew – that all memory is tricky, and rich, and so very fallible. Recalling what happened two weeks ago -- and what it means, how I felt, the way others reacted, and who said what -- is as much an act of using one's imagination, as to mine material from decades past.
Turns out, I like getting a story out to readers without even knowing for sure it will all turn out. (Why I should be so surprised, given my initial journalism training?) That part though is a risk for someone like me who is much more comfortable knowing the end of a story before putting a single word on the page. But then again, I need to remind myself that most of the time when I write a very long piece about something which took place 20 years ago, the "end" I eventually write toward is rarely the same conclusion I had originally attached to that story in my memory.
This week over at Love Mom, I wrote about how the preparations for the SAT -- and my son's not-so-subtle stance against my inner-Tiger Mother instincts -- had me re-evaluating the hovering blunders I've made, and how I'm now trying to change that pattern. And who knows, two months from now it may be that I've not really changed at all; that "lesson learned" may have faded to a missed opportunity and I may feel slightly nauseated that I touted what turned out to be an unearned epiphany.
That's the risk I guess of writing in the present. I've avoided it a long time, and so for now at least, I want to see how that particular writing glove fits. Good thing too, since now I'm contributing an essay weekly at Love Mom. I hope you will hop over from time to time to see how it's going, let me know how I'm doing. (All of my pieces at the site are listed here.)
I think this intrigues me because a large portion of my creative nonfiction work has pivoted on incidents from at least five years in the past, and some goes back further – 10, 20, even 30 years ago. Although my freelance journalism activities have included a fair share of reporting and opining keyed to current events, for creative nonfiction, it's looking back, often far back, that has always felt more comfortable to me.
Then my father died in 2006, and suddenly I had a compelling need to write about that experience, not so long after it occurred. Slowly, over the four-plus years since, more and more of the present (or more recent past) has crept into my work.
And then last summer, I did what for me, was rather strange: wrote a personal essay about what was happening in my life, right then. I did not fool myself that the piece had the same kind of depth and nuance, the same kind of reflective insight and long-lens perspective I liked to see on the page; but then again, there was a certain energy and tone to it that I liked. Here's how and why it happened.
Last May, I was asked to write twice a month for the Love Mom section at Your Tango. Technically, this made me a (paid) blogger, though my editor and I agreed my pieces wouldn't be casual chronicles, but personal essays. The site typically skews to a younger readership, but I was to represent the slightly older Mom voice, the one with experience, teenage children, and a 22 year marriage.
It was an interesting learning curve, as my (now former) twenty-something editor and I wrestled with getting the tone right, somewhere between here's-what-I-know-for-sure and despite-my-experience-I'm-as-clueless-as-every-other-mother. I experimented with essays that reached back to specific events from when my boys were babies – such as how a miscarriage once affected holiday plans, and my initial reluctance at the prospect of motherhood -- and those noting current struggles, but still reliant on echoes of past experience – such as my annual family-free week, and making peace with being just good enough.
Then last summer, faced with a deadline and operating on scant sleep while across the country at my mother's and on the third week of hospital bedside duty, and missing my family, I decided to let fly with an of-the-moment essay about the mixed emotions stirred by the situation. After getting over the small tremor of fear that my siblings would be upset by the piece, I rather liked the experience. Since then, I've continued to write about what's happening, as it happens, including a follow-up when my mother had another heart attack and I decided not to fly to her side. In one of my favorite pieces, I wrote about anticipating how much I'll miss the family routines we take for granted today, when they are one day gone.
While I don't write or think of these essays in the same manner I do the longer, deeper pieces I continue to work on for other venues, I've grown quite fond of writing them. As I tell my students all the time, shorter is harder, and at less than 800 words, these short pieces are a useful way to practice what I teach.
Going back to the idea of memory, I've also discovered – or rather reconfirmed what I probably already knew – that all memory is tricky, and rich, and so very fallible. Recalling what happened two weeks ago -- and what it means, how I felt, the way others reacted, and who said what -- is as much an act of using one's imagination, as to mine material from decades past.
Turns out, I like getting a story out to readers without even knowing for sure it will all turn out. (Why I should be so surprised, given my initial journalism training?) That part though is a risk for someone like me who is much more comfortable knowing the end of a story before putting a single word on the page. But then again, I need to remind myself that most of the time when I write a very long piece about something which took place 20 years ago, the "end" I eventually write toward is rarely the same conclusion I had originally attached to that story in my memory.
This week over at Love Mom, I wrote about how the preparations for the SAT -- and my son's not-so-subtle stance against my inner-Tiger Mother instincts -- had me re-evaluating the hovering blunders I've made, and how I'm now trying to change that pattern. And who knows, two months from now it may be that I've not really changed at all; that "lesson learned" may have faded to a missed opportunity and I may feel slightly nauseated that I touted what turned out to be an unearned epiphany.
That's the risk I guess of writing in the present. I've avoided it a long time, and so for now at least, I want to see how that particular writing glove fits. Good thing too, since now I'm contributing an essay weekly at Love Mom. I hope you will hop over from time to time to see how it's going, let me know how I'm doing. (All of my pieces at the site are listed here.)
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Stuff My Writing Students Say, Part 10: I knew that!
"It's funny. You really didn't tell me anything I didn't already know about the places in the piece that need work. But for some reason, I just kept hoping I could avoid it."
I heard the above quite recently from a student in one of my writing classes, after sending back a piece of creative nonfiction, in which I noted three specific areas I felt needed further work. But I've heard it other times, too. And frankly, I remember thinking this very thing myself years ago when submitting work.
You know the drill, don't you? Oh, this section on page 4 is not really as good as it could be, but it's not really terrible either. Maybe X won't notice.
But X always does notice, right?
Really, how silly are we writers? If we can see what's not working, why would we expect that the perceptive writer, editor, or a writing instructor, who we trust with our work, would fail to notice? (And, if we are paying that person and/or investing our time, why would we want them not to notice?)
I guess it's not that we really believe, deep down, that we are going to get away with anything. The opposite is probably true: I believe most writers want to be called out when their prose isn't top notch. I think this habit -- of pretending we don't see our own writing flaws and hoping someone else doesn't either -- has more to do with not wanting to do battle with those two dreaded R words: Revision and Rewrite.
What we won't do sometimes to avoid that two-headed monster, right? Including turning in prose we know is not as well crafted as we are capable of producing. Including not doing the deep thinking that goes along with rewriting a section which feels too thin. Including hoping another perceptive writer, editor or writing instructor will give us a pass.
I've learned a lot over the years about making peace with revisions and rewriting. In fact, these days, I don't consider myself to be really, truly writing something (as opposed to doing a "brain dump" or playing around on the page) unless I'm in the thick of revisions. Lately, I'm something of a zealot now about how much a writer can grow through the acts of Revising and Rewriting.
Much to the sometime horror of some of my students, I use one of the R words -- Revision -- quite a lot, all the time, in fact. And I also on occasion let go with the other R word – Rewrite – in it most feared form, the one preceded by the C word: Complete. Complete Rewrite, I may suggest (or urge or demand). The kind with a blank sheet/screen. C'mon, it's good for the writing soul, I'll urge.
But it's not always so dire. More often, it's just about paying attention to what we already know needs work, and working on it some more. Revising.
If you think your work needs work, why wait for someone else to notice?
Note: You can read the rest of the Stuff My Writing Students Say series here.
I heard the above quite recently from a student in one of my writing classes, after sending back a piece of creative nonfiction, in which I noted three specific areas I felt needed further work. But I've heard it other times, too. And frankly, I remember thinking this very thing myself years ago when submitting work.
You know the drill, don't you? Oh, this section on page 4 is not really as good as it could be, but it's not really terrible either. Maybe X won't notice.
But X always does notice, right?
Really, how silly are we writers? If we can see what's not working, why would we expect that the perceptive writer, editor, or a writing instructor, who we trust with our work, would fail to notice? (And, if we are paying that person and/or investing our time, why would we want them not to notice?)
I guess it's not that we really believe, deep down, that we are going to get away with anything. The opposite is probably true: I believe most writers want to be called out when their prose isn't top notch. I think this habit -- of pretending we don't see our own writing flaws and hoping someone else doesn't either -- has more to do with not wanting to do battle with those two dreaded R words: Revision and Rewrite.
What we won't do sometimes to avoid that two-headed monster, right? Including turning in prose we know is not as well crafted as we are capable of producing. Including not doing the deep thinking that goes along with rewriting a section which feels too thin. Including hoping another perceptive writer, editor or writing instructor will give us a pass.
I've learned a lot over the years about making peace with revisions and rewriting. In fact, these days, I don't consider myself to be really, truly writing something (as opposed to doing a "brain dump" or playing around on the page) unless I'm in the thick of revisions. Lately, I'm something of a zealot now about how much a writer can grow through the acts of Revising and Rewriting.
Much to the sometime horror of some of my students, I use one of the R words -- Revision -- quite a lot, all the time, in fact. And I also on occasion let go with the other R word – Rewrite – in it most feared form, the one preceded by the C word: Complete. Complete Rewrite, I may suggest (or urge or demand). The kind with a blank sheet/screen. C'mon, it's good for the writing soul, I'll urge.
But it's not always so dire. More often, it's just about paying attention to what we already know needs work, and working on it some more. Revising.
If you think your work needs work, why wait for someone else to notice?
Note: You can read the rest of the Stuff My Writing Students Say series here.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Author Interview: Kim Stagliano on her memoir, combining humor and autism. Yep, you read right.
Memoirs by mothers of special needs children are a well-stocked sub-category of the genre, with those focusing on children on the autism spectrum making up a sizable portion. Many follow the family from diagnosis and adjusting to a "new normal," to navigating a maze of therapies and special services, offering a window into a unique kind of family life. So does Kim Stagliano's book – but with two big differences: Autism disproportionately afflicts males, but Kim has three autistic daughters. And, she's done something rarely attempted in this subcategory: she puts humor on the page, with gusto. Her book is All I Can Handle: I'm No Mother Teresa – A Life Raising Three Daughters With Autism.
Kim agreed to answer a few of my nosy questions.
Lisa Romeo: You write with such graceful humor, not going for big laughs, but showing the humor even in very difficult situations. Has humor always come naturally to you?
Kim Stagliano: I am a classic middle child and was always a bit of the class clown. I have a wry, biting humor that isn’t always that nice. I didn’t have to work to create the humor in the book; it’s part of my style in general.
LR: When did you realize you could employ humor in accounts of your family's life with three daughters on the autism spectrum?
KS: When I wrote my first Huffington Post piece in 2006 and people laughed and learned, and complimented the (writing) style.
LR: Did you always know you'd want to write a memoir, or did that build slowly as you began to blog and report on autism and your personal experiences? When did you first see yourself as a nonfiction writer, as opposed to a woman who was chronicling her family's journey?
KS: I was dead set against it! How’s that? I wanted to write fiction – still do! I never thought anyone would be interested in our story and I just didn’t want to relive every moment. But as editors asked my agent for a non-fic proposal, the idea grew on me and I decided I could find a way to write our story while staying semi-sane and get a hopeful but realistic (and humorous) message into a book.
LR: You include images and experiences some other writers of autism memoirs often retreat from – parents injured by a child's meltdown, kids' "decorating" with feces, financial wipe-outs that treatment and other issues can cause. When you are writing, do you ever hesitate and think, maybe I shouldn't go there?
KS: Sure. I try to respect my children’s identities and their humanity – and it’s a fine line. Some folks think I cross the line, others appreciate the candor in that they don’t feel so alone. I hit the delete key about a million times while writing!
LR: Your book mixes family stories with your strong views on autism advocacy, the role of vaccines, social services, education, and public perception, as well as flashbacks from your childhood. How did you go about deciding on an organization and structure for the book?
KS: I knew that the autism community has limited time (to read). So I wanted the book to be broken into bite sized chapters that you could read quickly, digest and then either put the book down or continue reading. I made the book a quick read on purpose to accommodate the needs of the autism community first and to make the book super approachable for those outside our world, like teachers, therapists, outside family members. It’s purposefully a fast, funny read so no one will really know “what hit them” when they are finished.
LR: Although you already had a strong following (dare I use that word: platform), did it strike those in publishing – agents, publishing house editor, marketing folks – as an odd sell, a book about raising three autistic daughters which is also humorous, and at times, hilarious?
KS: Yes it did. We had a lot of editors who just did NOT get me, my humor or how to make the story funny. My agent persevered though and he sold the proposal. There were also a lot of comments that the market was already saturated – but no other book offers the raw honesty and humor like mine does. I like to say, “You won’t need a Prozac to read it,” and I mean it!
LR: You are managing editor of Age of Autism, a major news site and online community. Did that work prepare you (or not) for the challenge of pulling together this memoir?
KS: Writing a book is very different from blogging and running Age of Autism. What AofA did for me was to give me a constant reminder of who I was writing for – my audience of parents struggling to get through the day or the night and desperate for laughter and encouragement.
LR: Is there another book in the works?
KS: Yes there is! Fiction (I get to kill people, yay). I’m working on a young adult novel that brings in the sibling issue with autism. That’s all I’ll tell you for now.
Note from Lisa: We're giving away a signed book to one reader. To be entered in the random drawing, leave your comment on this post by midnight Tuesday, April 5. (U.S. postal addresses only.)
Friday, March 25, 2011
Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers, March 25, 2011
► Are you a book hoarder? Then you will understand this guy's problem.
► End your week – start your weekend – on a grace note, by reading Emily Rapp's elegant essay about how her terminally ill son's diagnosis led her "home" – in every sense of the word.
► In a Poynter interview, Frank Bruni describes how he prepared (in part) for the different challenge of writing his memoir, Born Round, after decades as a New York Times reporter, foreign bureau chief and restaurant critic: "In part I approached my own story the way I would someone else’s. To supplement my own memories I debriefed family members and friends. But mostly I took some time to read, in rapid succession, the kinds of memoirs I’d read before but never with a particular focus. I looked closely at how they were done, how they were paced, their tones. And I tried to draw from that some internal sense of how I should proceed with mine and what I wanted it to read and sound like." The rest of the interview is here.
►Penned a short line you love? Gotham Writing Workshops is running a Twitter-length contest (140 characters).
► More than two dozen AOL sites have either been shut down, or folded into similar "stronger" Huffington Post verticals. It's my understanding that these AOL sites were paying freelance contributors, so what will happen to that policy now? Will the freelance writers now be labeled bloggers, which HuffPo claims it's okay not to pay because they are "not really writers"? And what about that statement anyway?
► I recently concluded the Winter Prompts Project, emailing daily writing prompts to dozens of writers. The final prompt was, "The end of the line." In response, Stephanie Walulik, a former writing student of mine and Prompt Project participant, wrote this post on her blog – about writing, waiting, and endings.
► Have journaling fever? Or wish you did? Maybe Journalfest is for you.
►Local folks interested in online journalism might want to attend this 2-hour panel, Truth and Authenticity in News in a Digital age, at Caldwell College on April 7.
►Finally, if only every writing job ad were this honest.
Have a great weekend.
► End your week – start your weekend – on a grace note, by reading Emily Rapp's elegant essay about how her terminally ill son's diagnosis led her "home" – in every sense of the word.
► In a Poynter interview, Frank Bruni describes how he prepared (in part) for the different challenge of writing his memoir, Born Round, after decades as a New York Times reporter, foreign bureau chief and restaurant critic: "In part I approached my own story the way I would someone else’s. To supplement my own memories I debriefed family members and friends. But mostly I took some time to read, in rapid succession, the kinds of memoirs I’d read before but never with a particular focus. I looked closely at how they were done, how they were paced, their tones. And I tried to draw from that some internal sense of how I should proceed with mine and what I wanted it to read and sound like." The rest of the interview is here.
►Penned a short line you love? Gotham Writing Workshops is running a Twitter-length contest (140 characters).
► More than two dozen AOL sites have either been shut down, or folded into similar "stronger" Huffington Post verticals. It's my understanding that these AOL sites were paying freelance contributors, so what will happen to that policy now? Will the freelance writers now be labeled bloggers, which HuffPo claims it's okay not to pay because they are "not really writers"? And what about that statement anyway?
► I recently concluded the Winter Prompts Project, emailing daily writing prompts to dozens of writers. The final prompt was, "The end of the line." In response, Stephanie Walulik, a former writing student of mine and Prompt Project participant, wrote this post on her blog – about writing, waiting, and endings.
► Have journaling fever? Or wish you did? Maybe Journalfest is for you.
►Local folks interested in online journalism might want to attend this 2-hour panel, Truth and Authenticity in News in a Digital age, at Caldwell College on April 7.
►Finally, if only every writing job ad were this honest.
Have a great weekend.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Stuff My Writing Students Say, Part 9 : Words. They matter!
"One thing I've learned is that I need to analyze every single word carefully to see whether it's contributing and if not, replace it or cut it."
There's a tendency to read the above, and sort of snidely snicker, Duh.
But think again. This writer has articulated something some writers never seem to truly grasp. Or, have forgotten.
While every writer knows that words are the building blocks of their craft, and most writers are world class word geeks, the role of each individual word in a piece is sometimes overlooked. Once we get the "big idea," we skip to thinking in terms of themes, plots, topics, characters, scenes, images, flashbacks, feelings, etc. Oh we may vacillate over choosing the perfect word for that one powerful line of dialogue, or for the opening and/or the final sentence. We may silently high-five ourselves when we settle on the greatest word in a particularly good transition or description.
But sometimes we stop treating individual words as if they are gems to be handled with care, and instead begin deploying them with abandon, splattering them across the page as if it doesn't matter where they land, who their neighbors are, what impact they, as individuals, will have on the reader.
So occasionally, as the writing student quoted above notes, we need a reminder: Everything we do is about one word, then another. One word at a time. You know what? This is easy to forget when we are writing in increments of thousands of words. We begin thinking about sections, pages and chapters, instead of what our work really is: words. One word after another. Then another word. And another.
I do know writers who, in the first draft of a piece, will not move on from a sentence if one word strikes them as even slightly off, even it that sentence takes an hour or more to perfect. I like to power through first drafts, and then scrutinize every word later, during revisions -- and in final edits, in proofreading (and, heaven help me yes, even after publication).
I'm not going to advocate either system, but urge writers, at some point in the draft/ revision/rewrite/editing process, to take a long look at each word. And, frankly I'm a little miffed when students think of this as a bother.
Looking carefully at each word doesn't strike me in the least as onerous, but as the best fun a writer can have – playing with words. This one or that one? Big or small? Strong or soft? Common or unusual? Does this word contribute to my overall piece? To this sentence? This paragraph? Is it the best word? Is there a more precise word? A more interesting one? Can the word be cut entirely (I'm thinking of adverbs mostly, but also words like "that")? Would a more vivid, a more active, a more nuanced word be better?
Look, we're writers. We all love words. Let's treat them as if they actually matters. Every single one.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Writing Tips from Teen Spy Author Anthony Horowitz: Another Night in the NJ Suburbs
Last night my sons and I saw the novelist Anthony Horowitz at a pre-launch event for his book, Scorpia Rising, the last in the British teen spy Alex Rider series, released in the U.S. today. Instead of reading, Horowitz talked about being a writer, peppered with plenty of puns and obvious half-truths, and took questions from the mostly teen and tween audience, answering in a lively prattle. At one point, he noted how much he'd disliked school and that he'd put every one of his teachers in his novels, where they each promptly met with a painful death. (Note: the event took place in a middle school with many teachers in attendance.)
But then Horowitz got serious for a moment, giving advice to the fledging writers in the room. To me though, his tips are just as relevant to writers of any age or experience. Horowitz, who also writes for several British television shows, and is currently working on an adult novel about Sherlock Holmes, told his fans there are five basic things one must do to be a writer (I'm paraphrasing):
First, read. Second, write. Third, go out and have fun, have adventures. (Do something illegal! Don't get caught.) Or else you will have nothing to write about except someone alone in a room typing. Fourth, believe in yourself and what you are doing. There will always be someone telling you that what you are writing won't work. Ignore them. Fifth, never stop. The difference between a successful and unsuccessful writer is the unsuccessful one stopped writing.
Horowitz also talked about the connection between the mental state of the writer and the experience of the reader: "Writing is telepathy. If you are bored and miserable while writing, the reader will be bored and miserable reading."
The kids asked such great questions, and Horowitz gamely answered every one:
- He writes "anywhere and everywhere," but his favorite places are at a secluded vacation house and in his London home office, where he has a view of St. Paul's Cathedral.
- "The best thing about being a writer is thinking of new ideas. The writing itself is not so much fun. Writing is hard."
- Best places/times to work out new ideas are while walking his dogs and while in a hot bathtub. 'Or in a hot bath with the dogs," he joked (I think).
- In teen adventure books, "First chapter: kill all the parents. It's impossible for kids to have adventures with parents around."
- He liked the movie Stormbreaker, based on the first Alex Rider book. But – "No movie is ever as good as the book."
- Don't ever let anyone tell you that reading is passive. It's one of the most creative things you can ever do. Your mind is at work all the time when you are reading.
- Though he'd published many books before the Alex Rider series shot to global success, when he wrote the opening line of the first (of 9) books in that series, he had a strong feeling his life might change.
- He writes first drafts by hand.
- How to get back at movie producers who decide not to greenlight a second film from your series: put them in the next book, with thinly veiled names, and have them roll around in a mud puddle--while on fire.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers, March 18, 2011 Edition
► Members of the Authors Guild have about a month left to take advantage of their extremely generous discount offer on registration to Book Expo America, May 24 - 26 in New York City.
► If you are an essay writer (or simply love reading well-crafted essays), then you probably know about The Pedestrian. Now, you can gain online access to the full text of most of the journal's pieces with a 24-hour, $2.99 subscription.
► Two interesting pieces over at the Nieman Journalism Lab: A former editor-in-chief of the Sunday New York Times Magazine, and a former New Yorker writer, have a conversation about the future of long-form journalism, and a look at what the new paywalls at major newspaper websites may cost writers.
► Spend any time on Twitter? Then you might want this list of women in publishing who regularly tweet.
► Local writers, next Saturday, March 26, the West Caldwell Public Library, is hosting Women Poets Reading Poems that Reflect the Lives of Women. Included on the roster of two dozen-plus area poets are several who have been featured here on this blog.
► Over at Christian Writers Submission Information blog, I was pleased to find a wide range of calls for anthologies, journals and other projects (including many paying markets) that weren't strictly (or only) in the Christian writing lane.
► Congrats to my friend Kathy Briccetti, author of Blood Strangers: A Memoir, for her Lambda Literary Award nomination.
► Lisa Dale, author of several novels, including Slow Dancing on Price's Pier (release date April 5), is offering a free ebook download, 10 Simple Questions That Can Make or Break Your Author's Blog.
► Finally, the start date of my next online *I Should Be Writing* Boot Camp for Procrastinators and Busy People has been moved back to Monday, 3/28 so you still have time to register (that is if you don't procrastinate…) My Rutgers continuing education class, Memoir & Creative Nonfiction Writing, begins Saturday, 3/26, on the New Brunswick campus; registration accepted until Tuesday evening, 3/22.
Have a great weekend.
► If you are an essay writer (or simply love reading well-crafted essays), then you probably know about The Pedestrian. Now, you can gain online access to the full text of most of the journal's pieces with a 24-hour, $2.99 subscription.
► Two interesting pieces over at the Nieman Journalism Lab: A former editor-in-chief of the Sunday New York Times Magazine, and a former New Yorker writer, have a conversation about the future of long-form journalism, and a look at what the new paywalls at major newspaper websites may cost writers.
► Spend any time on Twitter? Then you might want this list of women in publishing who regularly tweet.
► Local writers, next Saturday, March 26, the West Caldwell Public Library, is hosting Women Poets Reading Poems that Reflect the Lives of Women. Included on the roster of two dozen-plus area poets are several who have been featured here on this blog.
► Over at Christian Writers Submission Information blog, I was pleased to find a wide range of calls for anthologies, journals and other projects (including many paying markets) that weren't strictly (or only) in the Christian writing lane.
► Congrats to my friend Kathy Briccetti, author of Blood Strangers: A Memoir, for her Lambda Literary Award nomination.
► Lisa Dale, author of several novels, including Slow Dancing on Price's Pier (release date April 5), is offering a free ebook download, 10 Simple Questions That Can Make or Break Your Author's Blog.
► Finally, the start date of my next online *I Should Be Writing* Boot Camp for Procrastinators and Busy People has been moved back to Monday, 3/28 so you still have time to register (that is if you don't procrastinate…) My Rutgers continuing education class, Memoir & Creative Nonfiction Writing, begins Saturday, 3/26, on the New Brunswick campus; registration accepted until Tuesday evening, 3/22.
Have a great weekend.
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