I am pleased as punch to announce my very first guest blog post is up today at echook. (This is the digital chapbook publisher that chose one of my essays for their first release on memoir.) My post is about my favorite short story (but really about my stepfather) and my essay is about poisoning people (but really about my mom).
Speaking of Mom, it’s her birthday today! Happy Birthday, Mom!
It’s also Hannah Moskowitz’s Book Birthday for Invincible Summer. This is not one you’ll want to miss – the reviews have been outstanding, and Hannah is the cutest/smartest/funniest writer-prodigy EVER, so run out and buy yours today!
I’m buying it as my (gulp) first e-book on my new Kindle.
Yep, you read that right. I have joined the Dark Side.
Now, I have revisions to attend to! Go and explore the Internet, Writer Friends. Or better yet, go write something wonderful and transformative. Why not?
Every once in a while, awesomeness just sneaks up on you. If you were at the Houston SCBWI conference this past week, it snuck up on you with waving pompoms and a 100-megawatt smile in the form of agent Sara Megibow. Or with a series of side-splitting illustrations and personal stories that ranged from the hilarious to the heartbreaking, from keynote speaker Ruth McNally Barshaw.*
The presentation I want to touch on today was given by the glamorous and thoughtful Abby Ranger, editor at Disney/Hyperion. For some reason, every one of her talking points hit home, sent me scrambling for my pen, and started off a rainstorm of ideas in my mind (now a bunch of garbled notes on my spiral notebook, but I’m working on getting them into the computer!). Her talk was titled “Ten Universal Tenets of Story (What movies taught me about the craft of fiction),” and early on she referenced my new favorite writing book, so I was hooked.
Now, be warned: I’m not going to give everything she said away here. For one thing, I’m too lazy, and you know I type with five fingers like a deformed T-Rex anyway. But also, her talk was so in-depth, there’s no way I could do it justice… and she’s planning to revisit it at another conference — so sign up and get the rest yourself!
Here are her 10 Tenets:
1. The Power of Premise – pretty self-explanatory. Do you have a plot? How about a unique one? If you don’t have a unique idea, well, that’s a harder sell. Put some thought into this before you write that next novel.
2. A Hero Who Wants Something. A lot of main characters Ms. Ranger sees in slush manuscripts don’t have clearly defined goals. The more important/exciting the goal, the more engaged the reader will be.
3. Write the beginning last. Okay, I’ll admit, I don’t do this. I write the beginning first, then sometimes again in the middle, and sometimes last, too.
4. Save The Cat. If you don’t know what this means, buy the book. Stop writing, and buy this book before you make All The Mistakes again. Ms. Ranger recommends spending time examining the 15 Beats section with your manuscript idea.
5. Sympathize with your villains.
6. Contradictions are more interesting than quirks. Regarding characters, that is. Quirky authors are just fine. Give your characters contradictions to have them stick with your reader, not just a funny mustache and a limp. (Reference: Robert McKee’s book, STORY)
7. Make it about something. Thematically speaking, not just plot-wise. What is your theme? The need for acceptance? The cost of vengeance? The value of friendship? The eternal necessity of chocolate?
8. Good dialogue has subtext.
9. Make things worse… then worse again.
10. Heroes are people who change. True transformation can’t happen spontaneously; change takes work.
Next time, I’ll share some excerpts from the deeply inappropriate rhyming picture book I wrote during the twenty minutes I *wasn’t* writing down Vastly Important Notes. Wait for it.
Write well this week!
* I read Ms. Barshaw’s first Ellie McDoodle book at the conference, HAVE PEN, WILL TRAVEL, and had a hard time not giggling out loud repeatedly. This is a great book! I wish I’d bought the others. If you have a reluctant reader, or a kid who liked WIMPY KID or NATE, buy these now!
Hiya Peeps! I’m packing this morning for the annual Houston SCBWI conference. This was my very first conference as a kidlit writer two years ago – ah, the stories I could tell of that first year! *
I should say, the stories I *will* tell. I’ve been spending some quality time this week preparing my presentation for another Houston conference, the Houston Writer’s Guild one on May 7th. I will present on “Cracking the Children’s/YA Market.”
So, should I take eggs for my visual aid? And crack them on people’s heads? *runs off to buy cascarones*
Oooh! Oooh! I have great news!!! I just got a lovely acceptance email from the editor of Flash Fiction Online. (If you don’t read this, you must! Pop on over and sign up for their monthly email. They have some of the most wonderful stories.) I feel so happy – this will be my first piece of flash fiction published, and it’s (covertly) a YA piece.
I hope you all have as much Writerly Goodness in store! Write well, and quickly, and crack a cascarone on your own head every once in a while – surefire cure for writer’s block!
Note: Check out Mon Agent Extraordinaire over in Chuck Sambuchino’s Guide to Literary Agents. Isn’t she delightful?
* Embarrassing, humiliating stories. No, really, I love this one – all those talented, funny Houston writers, like Lynne Kelly and Jenny Moss. Can’t wait!
I’ve been writing short fiction. Sort of compulsively. I think it started when I realized my WIP was going TERRIBLYWRONG RUNFORTHEEXITS KILLMENOW — wait. Deep breaths, deep breaths.
No, put away the paper bag. I’m fine. No more WIP thinking.
Anyway, I’ve got three short stories in various stages of done-ness, and I’ve even drafted a guest blog post for echook (the online anthology I sold a humorous essay to – coming out very, very soon!) this week. (I’ll post a link to the blog when it’s up.)
I can see two of the three stories finding homes (God willing!) in a kid lit magazine. The other one? My favorite of the three by far. It’s chock full of sick, twisted humor, strange characters – Edward Gorey illustrations pop into my mind as I’m writing. When I told my husband the premise, he hesitated, then ventured, “So, what market are you thinking for that one?”
That’s because my sweet husband knows a secret about me: I’m relentlessly commercial. I love to write things (stories, essays, novels) I think might actually find a home on a shelf or in a reader’s hands someday. So much so that it can be a little bit tricky to make myself write something for which I can see no viable publication path.
But I’m writing it anyway. Just for the heck of it. Just for the fun. I’ve started to put my faith more and more in the Muse (God, the Creative Spark, whatever), and try to follow where the story leads — if I’m having fun with the writing, of course.
I think it might result in some slightly more interesting things in my work. Of course, it might also result in less publishable things… but I don’t think I’ll worry about that, not with these little pieces.
Do you find yourself thinking about the market when you write? Or are you An Artiste? I always wanted to be one of those, I even bought the beret and black turtleneck. It just didn’t take. Oh, well.
Are any of you writing YA/MG short fiction these days? We could swap! Presto: instant audience. 😉
Oh, by the way? For those of you who have read Gingerbread? A sequel idea has formed in my demented noggin. I wrote a very spooky, very horrific page one. And then I stopped. That way lies madness. Here’s the root story, if you’re interested;)
Okay, thanks for the Writer Friend love last week. The mojo has returned, along with the inspiration. I had the cutest idea for a short story today and started cranking it out. Woo hoo! And then I wrote the whole first draft of the presentation I’m giving at the Houston Writer’s Guild conference in May.
I also happened to notice that my blog roll was alarmingly out of date, and I stuck a few more of you on there. I’ll try to keep on top of the blog housekeeping stuff at least as much as I do in real life.
Those of you who know what a slob I am just choked on your coffee, admit it.
Today was a day full of work, and hummingbirds, swallowtails and playing hooky with one of my kids.The good part of springtime. I would keep an eye on this blog over the next few weeks, Writer Friends. Yes, I would. Who knows what could spring up here, what with all the springtime craziness?
Oh, Writer Friends, I have been thinking Very Deep Thoughts these last few days. Thoughts about childhood, and why I write, and who my real audience is. Is it because it’s spring, and the does are dropping their fawns in the field by my house? Does it have something to do with the oak pollen sifting down from the live oaks on the hill, salting everything until the whole world glitters, saffron and gold?
Maybe I’ve been reading too much poetry.
Maybe it’s because a few people* have expressed some concern that my current dark manuscripts might be a bit dark, a bit disturbing. So I’ve been thinking of my childhood, and the books I treasured, and trying to picture who I’m writing for – and (except for my eldest son, who is my intended audience for most everything I write), the child I see reading my books when I close my eyes to picture it… is me. Me at nine, or ten. Skinny, smaller than the rest of my class, younger by two years, a big bobble-head full of thoughts of books. I memorized pages of Emily Dickinson when I was eight. I was strange, but the books didn’t care. I loved them all: funny, scary, dark, sweet.
Honestly? I didn’t care for the sweet ones quite as much.
Maybe this train of thought was brought on by my most recent piece of happy news – the envelope that arrived form Pockets magazine, complete with its lovely, postcard-sized contract informing me they would like to publish my short story, The Class Oatmeal, this August. When I saw the acceptance letter, I flashed back to my childhood – all those hours spent sitting in Methodist churches, bored to tears, my book already finished. Waiting for my dad (the pastor) to finish his meeting/funeral/phone call/sermon, I would read the ever-present issues of Pockets over and over.
It’s nice to have a story there. I’m pleased. I used my less-than-1,000 words to spread the Gospel a little bit more, as unobtrusively as I could! I know those friends who are worried over my recent forays into the scary stuff (middle-grade scary, not true horror) will love this short story, will approve of it.
But I wonder why they can’t see the glittering message — the one I believe lies at the heart of all I write, that same good news of hope, grace, possible salvation, even — in the darker works? It’s not as glaring, I know. Maybe it’s hidden for some by the humor and the tension. But to me it’s as apparent as the oak pollen on the wrought-iron chair by my door, sparkling every time the sun peeks out.
I think I would have seen it, as a kid. I write everything for the little girl I was, trying however I can to reach her – and, I suppose, all the other children who sit and wait for a story that can save them.
Who is your audience, Friends? And does spring ever make you melancholy?
Now, I’m off to work on a very sad, somewhat dark middle-grade fairy-tale-based novel that’s more magical than real — and as authentic as anything I’ve ever tried to write. I’m actually kind of scared of this one. The perfect novel for my current mood. 😉
Happy Day, Writer Friends! I hope you’re all working on fabulous manuscripts, or revising glorious poems, or at least eating good, dark Swiss chocolate — something, anything writerly — to start off your week.
As it is World Poetry Day, I would like to share a poem by one of my favorites, Mary Oliver. I bought her New and Selected Poems: Volume One (now there’s a memorable title for you) in New York last week, and I’ve been reading it every night.
“How does she know?” I keep wondering. How does she find the words for that desire that’s been pulling at me for days, months, years? Poets are my superheroes.
What is it Robert Frost said? Anyone can get themselves into a poem, but it takes a poet to get out of one. Something like that.
Enjoy.
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
I read aloud to my boys (ages 8 and 11) pretty much every day. Yes, yes, I know they’re plenty old to read to themselves, but that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not a Monopoly Mom, and the lure of Battleship waned long ago. But reading? That’s something we can all do together that never gets old. Recently, we’ve been working our way through (on different nights) Tony DiTerlizzi’s The Search for Wondla, and the final book of the Gregor the Overlander series by Suzanne Collins. (We’re all a little worried about what that horrible author might do to our beloved Temp, or Gregor, or Boots, or their MOM for crying out loud! Ms. Collins has a nasty tendency to kill off characters we’ve grown fond of. My 8 y.o. will stop sometimes and very gravely announce that if “Temp dies, I’m going to pay a visit to that stinking author.” Brrr.)
Last night, Younger Son asked me very seriously “why Gregor was poor.” We had a long talk about it, but I ended up with a question for him. “You do know this is a story, right? That Gregor isn’t a real person, walking around, riding on bats. Right?” He said of course not, but the look in his eyes… it was plain he thinks I don’t know what I’m talking about.
Honestly, I probably don’t. Gregor and his friends are more real to my son than many of his relatives, I would imagine. He’s spent more time with Gregor than with some of his school friends, he’s cried for him, and laughed at his mischief. I know Gregor will stay alive in my son’s mind until he’s my age or older.
And why not? I still remember racing my way through Pippi’s adventures, then trying to get even closer to her by sleeping upside down in my bed. I remember dreaming about breadfruit, and — strangely, all these years later — I find myself writing about a character named Annika, and thinking about that other Annika who was my very proper friend when I was 8. Pippi is still more real to me than the kids I went to elementary school with, those interchangeable faces on the fading class photograph. Were they real? I can’t remember. Not like I remember Pippi.
So, this week, read aloud. Read to your kids, or your husband, or volunteer at a children’s shelter and read to those kiddos. Or read aloud to yourself — maybe a favorite childhood book?
Uh, oh, Friends. I finished the draft of The Dark House, threw the confetti, edited it once, sent it off to a couple of Lovely Writer Friends to read… and completely forgot about the Post-Draft Reading Jag.
Oh, man. I’ve been reading at least a book a day this week. My eyes sort of hurt from it. But it’s a good hurt.
Also, my stomach hurts – but that’s from laughing. If you’ve never heard of it*, RUN right over to Chuck Wendig’s blog and read ANYTHING he’s written. I’ve decided to completely give up dispensing any sort of writing advice, and just refer people to him now. For one thing, his advice is great, and hilariously well-written. For another thing, I’ll scare off any Writer Friends who don’t have their big-girl panties on. Speaking of knickers, I particularly like this post on Pantsers vs. Plotters, and this one on How Not to Starve and Die as a Writer. Could not stop laughing on that one.
Disclaimer: I didn’t find Chuck Wendig by calling Madame Chloe. I found his blog by way of the Friday YA Highway Round-up, the VERY first website I check out on Fridays when I’m supposed to be, um, writing. Oh, yeah.
News: The children’s short story I wrote is up on Literature4Kids this month!
More News: Run over to Jo Whittemore’s blog and congratulate her on selling D in Drama. Time for champagne, Jo!
Even More News: I’m going to new York next Thursday! More on that trip later…
Have a great weekend, Writer Friends!
* And if you are NOT easily offended by seriously soap/mouth language and slightly-too-frequent-for-comfort references to cannibalism.
Hiya, Peeps! I’m writing the final chapter on the WIP today (is that why this song keeps playing in my head?) and it’s a tricky one. I feel like I used to when I was a kid and my mom was forcing me to learn horrific handicrafts teaching me to crochet/knit/quilt, and the project looked so awesome… except for all those threads hanging out. For her, it was obvious how you would tuck all those threads in – “just weave them under, Nikki, it’s not hard” etc., – but for me it just looked like a project that would never get finished. In fact, a lot of my crafty projects never did make it all the way to the end, because of that – I didn’t really know how to finish them off.
But “not finishing” isn’t a luxury we novelists have, is it? Not if we want to pursue, you know, actual publication. So, I’m grabbing all those loose threads today, bundling them together as best I can (noticing in the process how I forgot a couple of subplots that I’d intended to weave through this novel UGH!), and crafting some sort of ending. And, given my middle-grade writing gig, it’ll be a happy one, with series potential. LOL (By the way, have I told you all how excited I am to have finally written a middle-grade novel that references the Apocalypse? I was starting to feel like I’d never get my stakes high enough.)
The whole ending process has taken a lot longer than I’d planned, given the illness that’s been sweeping through the house – we’ve had flu for weeks, and colds now. Ick. I hope you’re all staying well, Writer Friends.
Now, back to work. One more chapter, a Lady Gaga song to choreograph for tomorrow’s Zumba class, and a few dozen more cups of hot tea with honey to knock this cold out. And then, as a reward, a read-through of a manuscript one of my dear Writer Friends sent me that is turning out to be very, very good indeed. Magic and mixed-up love, and mind-reading teenagers… I’m pretty much falling in love with this one. Adore that feeling.
News: I got into the AROHO conference for August! *confetti all around* AND I placed a couple of short pieces – one will be out tomorrow in the March issue of Literature4Kids here. Another one will come out in their July issue. Also, I sold an essay to eChook digital publishing. Yay!
Interesting Stuff: Check out Shelli Cornelison’s blog for great recaps of the Austin SCBWI conference. I’ll post more about that later, but I’m still in awe of all the groovy, delightful, utterly cool famous people I spoke with. Arther Levine, Carolyn Coman, Kimberly Willis Holt, Stephen Roxburgh… I could go on all day long. Seriously,Writer Friends – Austin is THE place to be a children’s book writer!
Also: You know how I go on and on about my agent, Suzie? Well, you can ask her your very own questions tonight at writeoncon! Check it out! Now!!
