Starting Over with Cynthia Valero

In the Meantime ...

2011-12-11T17:53:00.001-05:00

You can find me over at: www.tenminuteuniverse.blogspot.com

The End

2011-11-28T06:58:00.001-05:00

On Wednesday, November 16, 2011, I wrote the words, "The End." This was a draft that I had started in January and vowed to complete by the end of this year. I did it! Last winter, I had finished work on a rougher draft of the story and then sat down and forced myself to write an outline to streamline the plot and characters. This is the draft that smoothed my ideas into a real, flowing story. Now it is on to writing the story and series synopses and a final, polished draft. Then I will send them out into the world. I am thrilled!

I will update this blog again at the next milestone. Thank you for reading!

This Year?

2011-07-27T21:12:00.002-04:00

Really? Maybe?

I just scrolled through some old posts, and I cringe that I see I had started work on this book in 2006. 2006! Crazy. Just crazy. I actually knew this, but to see it in writing ...

But I really, really think it might be done this year. If you follow the hero's journey, my hero has seized the sword and is beginning the road back. We are building toward the story climax, people.

This story has really been honed down to its essential elements. That was really the trick. I had this huge, wide, deep story that I had to discover, and it simply took time. Interestingly, almost all of my original characters are still in the story. There were certain basic impulses and inspirations that have not changed a wit after all of this time. They just had to be mined and cut and polished.

I'm very tired right now. I will post more soon. Thanks for reading!

C

Finished?

2011-02-25T19:49:00.003-05:00

Not yet but almost. This year. This year.

I am very proud of how it is turning out. It has been a long and mysterious and exhilarating journey.

I hope that someday soon readers will get to meet the characters with whom I have spent such lavish and devoted time.

May your manuscripts shine with your love and attention.

Worth the Wait

2008-08-20T12:26:00.008-04:00

So I wrote in June that I was going to stick with the draft, keep moving forward, keep blazing those trails towards the end. No, I'm not done. However, I have now written the heart of the story that I had imagined from the beginning. All of those flashes of scenes and events were finally written. I had not realized how late in the story they would come. But writing them began to make sense of a lot of things that I had set up in the beginning, not knowing exactly where they would lead, only trusting that they would lead ... somewhere. Perhaps to those snapshots of moments I had seen. I had always hoped that, by the time I got to those visions in the story, I would know what to do next.

I got to the place where I needed to write the visions into the story, but I still felt that I did not know what was coming next. I still felt that I did not have the handle on my story that I should. This became my crisis of faith in whether I should go back to the beginning and try to figure it out from there or keep pushing forward into the unknown. Still. The unknown.

In my last post, you would have read that I had decided to stick with it. Keep on the miner's lantern and keep chipping ahead. Over the past two months since, I have written the original visions, and, boy, did they deliver ... the expected and the unexpected.

It is another reminder that just on the other side of when things get the most difficult is the reward for sticking with it, working it out. There is, of course, a time to go back in a story. I think, however, that it is important to sit still long enough to listen to your instincts. If you are not sure what to do, ask yourself, "Am I going back to the beginning for the best of the story or because I am afraid to keep moving forward?"

In this case, if I had gone back, I would not have discovered all that had just revealed itself to me by working hard through this challenge. I would still be wondering what would be the best angles to push toward. I'd still be in the same boat of only being able to see so far ahead and not knowing anymore than before. I have heard before that when you are stuck you are also about to make a breakthrough. I tried to hold onto this as I pushed forward.

I also learned something else, about me as a writer. Facing down this part of the book also meant facing down the reality of whether or not this book had a leg to stand on. I was about to see if all of the work over the years would really lead to someting. I was frightened at this point that I still did not know so many important things so late in my story. Or what felt late to me anyway. I wanted the security of having figured it all out already, seeing the whole story clearly. Yet, there I was on the threshhold of writing the visions that I had seen from the beginning, and I was ready to back away. It was the most exciting and potent moment, and I was about to run. In hindsight, I see that had I feared that the visions that I had followed all this time would turn out to be no good, that the story was a bust.

Going back to the beginning, in this case, would have only created more fear as I still would not have climbed that mountain, tested the worth of what I had been following for so long. I would have created only more fear and frustration and no doubt ennui with my own work. It probably would have been that much harder the second time I reached this same place in the story.

Well, like I said, I wrote it, I pushed forward, and it was worth it. I faced down my fear that what I have been working on for years might be crap. Standing on the peak now, I can see so much more than I could before and I know how to rewrite the beginning when I go back too. It is a very exciting prospect to work on it with a clear eye on the ending. I look forward to it. It is motivation. It is what I have hoped for all along. Now, the beginning no longer represents to me a place to hide. But a place to return with full energy.

Something big happened here by not going back to the beginning and instead continuing my slow chipping away in the dark. I busted through, not only the story but also my fear of facing my own ability.

So the next time you are tempted to go back and start from the beginning--before you have written the end--just ask yourself if it is really in the best interest of the story (it might be) ... or just a place to take cover.

Hugs, C

This is What

2008-06-25T11:38:00.011-04:00

In answer to my own question in my previous post, I have decided to keep moving forward from where I left off. I believe that not finishing the draft and starting the revisions from the beginning, because it has been restarted so many times as I learned both my process and toward what I was moving to write, would leave me deflated. The patient, steady flame of its life force would be dimmed, perhaps snuffed. The vigor of finishing a draft, no matter how rough and with how many jagged shards, offers a sense of accomplishment, closure, and possibilities. Even if shadowed, I could at least make out the faint arc, make sure that it is what I think it is, and know on what exactly to focus and weave from the beginning ... with surety. I imagine that will only strengthen the narrative and my own resolve.

There will also only be more questions and discoveries as I push toward the end. New and unexpected things--the best of things--that would need weaving in ... again. So why not keep exploring, assume the changes of what came before, hold them in my mind and in notes, and get down the main thrust of the story?

Sounds so simple, yet I needed to take a few days to come to this conclusion. This was something that I had resolved to do from the very beginning of this project: write through to the end. But like a girl in the woods with no signposts and armed only with instinct and craft, I gauged every detour off the main path to the end, afraid that if I moved off the path to the end, I'd get myself stuck in darkness or thicket or succumb to internal monsters always seeking to do me in. But sometimes, when I did return from the detours and thicket-laden circles and turnarounds-- and I always did, I made sure of it--I found the main path clearer, more bountiful. In this case, the path would only grow over from lack of use and all of the hidden surprises will have already been plucked from the beginning path. Without reaching the end, there will be nothing new at the beginning. At least, not enough to make it worth the stop in journey. So on the main path I stay.

Here is a great link that I received from a friend about just this thing. I so wanted to use artist/writer, Laini Taylor's metaphors when explaining my thoughts about it. You should just visit her site anyway for the creative surge. http://notforrobots.blogspot.com/2007/08/first-exploratory-drafts.html

How about you? Do you feel there are proper times to go back to the beginning and times not to? How do you know one time from the other?

Hugs, C

Now What?

2008-06-17T11:49:00.002-04:00

Out of myopia and into interesting choices to make. I had to go off page for two weeks and write a bunch of backstory that tells me even more what, why, and how. One can ask oneself how one did not have this information up front. I should have known this when I started then I would not have hit this wall. Problem is, I never would have reached this wall in the first place if I hadn't have kept writing. I would not have known that I needed this information. I could not have known. So, deep breath and patience and soft talking as though I am fidgeting bird being lured by my self, I gave myself the space to write what was needed in order to finish the last third/quarter of the story.

Ha ha, but now here I am with backstory in hand and uncertainty about which direction to go. The backstory has given me a glimpse at the purpose of the story. I did not know this with all that I have written. It changes many things, though not all. Part of me believes that I need to go back to the beginning to rewrite now so that I better write the end, the other part believes that I need to go back to where I left off and find out more information before going back. I think I'm either 2/3 or 3/4 of the way through the story. The thing is: I imagine the ending either way will be different, and how much more writing that will not end up on the page am I willing to do? Well, I am willing to do whatever it takes to tell the best story, so that really is not the question. The question is how to make the best use of my efforts to get to the best place for the story?

Yesterday, I tried to dig in where I left off and I did not really feel it. I guess that part of me that knows so much will change is not eager to dwell in this part right now. So I will try to write the new opening that is necessary, which I can see pretty clearly. Perhaps that is my answer.

The backstory also taught me more about my characters and further deepened their roles, so perhaps I need to stick with that. After all, it is kind of hard to tie up a story if some of the strings are no longer attached.

What about you? Do you experience a point in a story where you are unsure whether to push forward or go back? When is right and when is it counterproductive, in your opinion?

Hugs, C

Myopia

2008-05-16T15:14:00.004-04:00

This has been my dwelling for the past week. As though I squat on the dirt floor of a dark hut, the door is closed, and only weak light is filtering through the straw. I find myself in this place every so often, not knowing I am there until I have sat in a scene for too long, rewriting, moving, adjusting, with no further clarity. As a matter of fact, much the opposite: I have created more murk with my continued stirring. I then allow the clouds to roll in with dark ponderings, such as, does anything in my story make sense or have a point?

Usually, it boils down to one of these issues:

(a) I focused in too close to the story and forgot the forest for the trees
(b) I have moved too far away from the story and can only see the forest not the trees
(c) I made a wrong turn somewhere and have left the forest altogether

Hence, the state of myopia.

When I am in (a), I fell too far out of the wind currents that carry the plot forward and am stagnating in minutia. When I am in (b), I have become overwhelmed by the expanse of the forest and need to talk myself down from that highest tree. When I am in (c), it usually takes me a little while to realize it, then I eventually come to terms that I must go back and read a few chapters like a map and find my proper course.

I do believe that I have gone through all of the phases in this particular myopia, but I think it will ultimately be (c) that will set me right. Sometimes I wonder if (a) and (b) are not the signs for me that I have done (c) and that it happens this way every time. I will have to pay closer attention. Hence, this journal.

If anyone stops by to read, what about you? Do you ever find yourself tripped up for a week or longer? How do you feel? What does it tell you? What do you do to move on?

Hugs, C

I am Alive ... so is the Book

2008-04-29T12:46:00.006-04:00

Nobody will probably see this post. I've been vapor for the past year and one-half. Not just here but everywhere. So much so that I have not even opened the increasingly demanding form letters from the organizers of my high school reunion. I think I might have finally been dropped from the list.

I wanted to post an update, even if it is for myself. I look back on my past posts and I find them informative, not only about writing but also about my writing. It's like a travel log for the journey of this novel. Yes, this novel. I still am hard at work on this same novel.

For a while, I thought I might be going crazy. Starting the same story over and over, trying to find my way into it. But I had made a pledge to myself to finish this book. This pledge alone might not have been enough to stick with one story for, um, three years. But the story itself hooked its claws into me. There were notions, visions, glimpses of character that I wanted to know ... and I would know them!

So I stuck to it. I explored. I dug. And dug. And dug.

The last blog post reflected a version where most of the story took place in our world. Nix that. Remember how I wrote I had to discover the back story to write that story? Well, it turned out that the back story IS the story. Since I kept having to go back to it, finding it rich and mysterious, the light bulb finally flashed. Perhaps this is the story. Since I was so interested in what was happening and had happened there ... well, duh.

So my back story is my story. The entire story takes place in another world. The sequel will take place on that world but in a different place. My characters do not come here. Not that I foresee.

As you may know, I started this blog to chronicle my journey between genres. From romance to fantasy. I enjoyed reading urban fantasy and magical realism, stories that take place on Earth but take a fantastical turn. I figured I'd land somewhere in the middle of those. Nope. This story demanded that I create a whole new world. This journey wanted to take me far from the patterns that I knew, on which I could rest. It wanted to really wake me up, make me work, and treasure every word, every discovery.

Can you say time laden?

I am thrilled about the work that I have been doing for the last year. In April 2007, I picked up my pen after a personal situation kept me from my work for six months. But when I returned to my normal, if altered, world, I was ready to navigate the unknown lands of my imagination. I was no longer frightened of trekking without a procedural compass but with only my instinct and courage. Perhaps that six-month break also allowed the story to simmer in the back of my mind, without the interference of my preconceived notions of what I wanted it to be.

Pen to paper, I allowed the story to come as it wanted. It's been a challenge and a joy ever since. I am on page 259, and I do believe the story will go to about page 400. But I cannot say for sure. It's been a journey with many surprises and unknowns, and though I have long had the visions of some of the scenes I am now writing, the story still drives me, not the other way around. I just keep showing up for the ride.

If anybody stops by, please let me know how your work has progressed in the last year. I'd love to know.

Hugs, C

Going Deep

2006-11-06T12:25:00.000-05:00

I have now written enough pages of my work in progress to fill a manuscript. A good portion of these pages are back story. Some, most, if not all, of my fantasy novel will take place on this world. But some of my main characters are not of this world. Why they are here and what they are doing in the book stem from the other world. It is the complete motivation for this novel. So I had to know what happened, and not just in theory.

So I wrote that as far as I could. Then months later, came up with a bit varied version. More pages.

Then I wrote five or six chapters from the POV of my earth hero. He is now scrapped and back to his original role, which is not earth hero. Those pages, gone.

In the past two weeks, I've handwritten over 100 pages in my journal with a new earth hero, with my old earth hero back in his original place. It is working. However, most of what I have written will not end up as ms pages. I'm allowing myself to write in circles now and flesh out things even more. Everything previous was written on the computer, which is OK except that I felt the need to immediately beat everything into a 'submission.'

Now I just write and rewrite and feel my way around. I wrote scenes that I darn well know will not be in the book. But, boy, am I touching a depth that I hope will be felt in those ms pages. Whenever they get written. I know that seeds and flashes of what I am writing will be in the book. It is inevitable, it is the bones and bloods. I'm learning more deeply about my characters.

Until now, when I was writing some of my characters, they felt like puppets on my hand. Waiting for my nearly every pull of the string. Waiting for one of them to say something to give me a clue. So much horrible dialogue.

But then, around page 100 of my journal, I began to feel my old earth hero. For the first time he opened up and started talking. His dialogue had passion. In writing those scenes with him, just by himself and understanding his thoughts and dreams and what he yearned for, etc., I found his heart. Or at least a glimpse at it.

I do have my opening in mind now. It is actually already written in three different ways. But it's in pencil and I didn't spend a whole lot of time on each. I was just scribbling and feeling my way around. Not forcing it into the ruts of how I thought it needed to be has given it freedom ... and the passion of my characters to possibly carry out this story to the end. For it is my most fervant hope to engage my readers. But first I must be engaged and so must the characters.

After countless dates, I think we're finally falling in love.

Do you find it takes time to find the heart of your story? How do you approach it?

Hugs, C

Separating the Bacon Strips

2006-09-14T11:20:00.000-04:00

So, I've come to the conclusion that there is just too much going on in my story. So much wants to be told and be told at once. Only it cannot be told at once. The one story must be told and the seeds for the next must be planted. It's been overwhelming but interesting trying to figure out which stories need to be told and when and how. It's definitely been a learning experience.

Luckily, it has been a little easier for me to figure out which story needs to come first. I do not have to choose between characters luckily, just which ones will make their appearance first.

Still, I'm not sure how the future stories will be handled. The characters paths diverge greatly as far as I can tell now. But, of course, the writing will decide what it wants to do and will probably surprise me anyway. I should probably not be worrying too hard about this right now. Of course, I have to worry about which story to tell in this moment ... or no story will be told because I will continue to drive myself in circles!

So, that is where I am. Separating my story lines like strips of bacon, but savoring the future strips to come. Did I say I love the smell of cooking bacon?

Has anyone else ever had this issue? Too many plots in the kitchen?

Hugs, C

Opening Up the Story

2006-07-31T09:14:00.000-04:00

Hey there to anyone who still might pop in. Here's my latest update:

I made it to chapter five two weeks ago. I know, it took three weeks to write three chapters. Wait a minute, I forgot ... that's a chapter a week. I was really rolling along. I was in the zone. It feels like so long now because I have barely added page count since hitting chapter five.

I tried not to pressure myself. I actually wrote chapter 5 but knew something was missing. Wrote a different opening. It's OK, I thought, but still it wasn't clicking. After two weeks, I was beginning to feel pretty down about it. Why did I want to write a fantasy? YA was already new to me, now I have to go and complicate it? Yes, I did, I reminded myself. I gave myself plenty of time to see what kinds of stories came naturally to me. They were mostly fantasy.

So, anyway, through Paperback Writer's blog, I found an article on fantasy by Kate Elliott. It reminded me that "Using a single point of view is usually too linear and too narrow when you're dealing with a cast of thousands, which is the preferred method these days, it seems. You want scope, and scope means time, space, and multitudes." Now, I don't have a cast of thousands, but I do have a varied cast, from three distinctly different backgrounds. Only telling the story from my protag's POV was proving too linear. That's one of the reasions that I couldn't go on. Once I wrote a scene from another character's POV, it opened all sorts of possibilities. Then, over the weekend, I found another character to work through. I'm still on the fence about him ... he's the villain with the knowledge of everything that's happening. The scene could be told from the other character in the scene's POV since I told it from a fairly omniscient POV. Hmmm ... I just thought of that as I wrote this. I'm going to play with this when I go home. Maybe keep that scene mostly omniscient, with a taste of the other character's POV instead of the villain's, and then in the next scene with him, I will go deeper into his POV. He has more to rise up to than the villain. The villain is already rising to everything. Yes! Thank you for letting me figure this out here!

OK, so the other thing I realized was that my back story was a little too complex. I was having a rough time carry it all out since everything in this story is motivated by what happened in that back story (see previous post). So, on Saturday morning, when I was banging my head, unable to write, I realized I had to simplify and nail some things down for good. This was so valuable. Having the back story a little more simple has given the current story more motivation and clarity. It is making it easier for me to focus. There is one solid goal now for me to work with. My protag's situation more clear and less cluttered.

Which leads me to the last thing that really helped. I had introduced a book, with so many of the answers to the back story. It was kind of cool, but it kept tripping me up. All my protag had to do was read the book to understand a lot of what was happening. So then all the dialog ended up being consumed with my characters trying to interpret the book. Bleh. No book, no translating, just action now. The villain setting the pace. The villain knowing everything he's set up and, now, at the book's opening, it starting to come to fruition. Simple. Or more simple.

So I've written two new scenes in two different points of view, and, to me, it has opened up the scope of my story without, I think, diluting it. I think it's made it more powerful and driven. Focused and moving. There is much happening and they all tie together. There was no way for my protag to tell it and live it all for the reader to discover. So many things at stake for each faction.

Oh, and I changed the title of my story. Before it only represented one faction of my characters, but, as I realize how all the factions are going to play together, I took the name of the book that I deleted from the story. Now my mind is opened wider with my title as well.

So, that's where I am. I hope you are moving along as well. Discovering, pondering, expanding, learning, writing.

Hugs, C

Bride of Frankenstein

2006-06-24T12:31:00.000-04:00

In case anyone still stops by at the invitation of my last post (thank you, if you do! I miss you and see most of you over at Beth Ciotta's blog), I thought it way past due for an update.

I spent three months writing a new angle of my story to discover that what I had just written was all back story. At first I wanted to drown my head in toilet. But then I realized it was the fuel of the story that was to be told. Knowing what had happened in the past had always been the big blank to me, and had made it difficult to write my story.

So, after another couple of quick false starts, I think I've finally hit it. The amazing thing is that it incorporates nearly everything that I had come up with in the past years. It's like I had to create all of these invidividual threads in order to be able to weave them together. They would not be created at the same time.

It is turning out much different than I expected ... yet it is closer to my original vision than anything else I've written until now. How curious. And this tells me that I am on the right track. For it is the original tone and the original characters and much of the original setting. Only in a new light. It has also confirmed to me that it is indeed a YA story. For a while I thought it might have shifted into an adult story. But I think it's definitely a YA. My characters are 17 years old, nearly 18 ... so I guess that was the confusion. I had a hard time finding their ages. First younger then older, now right in the middle. So I guess it could be an adult story too.

Anyway, I'm chugging along in chapter 2 and feeling like I'm finally onto something. I can see things. I can see ahead. Well, I can see ahead with concept. I don't know any details. These I discover as I write. Which I also learned to let unfold naturally. I learned that if I try to hard to put it in order before I write it, I get bored with it. It gets choked. I did this out of fear of writing something that goes nowhere. But if the base is solid enough, even if I only have hunches or small clues, it can be enough.

I know these characters by now. At least on a visceral level. I want them to still surprise me. As I said to someone the other day, that is when the story comes alive.

Here's to my Bride of Frankenstein.

I hope you all are rolling along and doing great!

Hugs, C

Hiatus

2006-04-25T18:35:00.000-04:00

Thank you to everyone who has visited my fledgling blog and shared in the beginning phases of writing my new book. I have enjoyed sharing and conversing with all of you!

I'm finding that I do not have a whole lot to say lately as I wade through the mystery of my story. I don't want to bore you all to tears with the same posts about craft. However, I will post now and then, if I have something fresh and exciting to tell you ... like I made it halfway through the book, or discovered something neat, or sold a short story, or (gasp) sold the book (but that's a long way off as I still need to finish it!). So, if you are ever in a blog-hopping mood, come back and visit me. I may have an update or something interesting to share.

Until then, keep writing and I will talk you soon!

Hugs, C

Backdated Scenes

2006-04-24T08:43:00.000-04:00

So I am discovering that I can write ahead, which is great when you're stuck in the now but can see some scene down the road. It keeps the writing hand moving, the creativity flowing, the story firing. Usually it will also give me enough time away and food for thought that, when I go back to my stuck spot, I'll either see it more clearly or just jump in and try something to bridge what's written. It's less intimidating to fill in a gap than it is to try to write into the unknown. Yesterday, my new writing caught up to something that I had written ahead a while back. Some of stayed. Most of it was rewritten. Because in those gaps of writing, new ideas cropped up, characters and delimmas had become more clear. And it didn't hurt me at all to rewrite. It was those landing pads up-ahead that had helped me to write the story this far and with more detail because I had an idea of what was coming.

I only write ahead, at this point, if I am stuck or I am seeing a scene ahead and need to get it down. Otherwise, I like some future inklings to simmer for a while on the back burner. I'll make notes, but I don't necessarily want every notion to be born early into prose. Some might be meant to, others not. Still, love those landing pads along the great wide journey. I guess everything has a time and a place. Do you ever write ahead to get unstuck? Or to get something out of your head? I bet some of you might even write your endings early in the game. It is so neat how stories get told. Is it ever perfectly chronological?

Hugs, C

What's Been Written

2006-04-21T08:56:00.000-04:00

I am very excited. A wonderful lady at my work is reading my very first book. Not just my book, but Beth's and my book, CB Scott's first book, Scandalous Spirits. A RWA Golden Heart Finalist. A highly reviewed story. A story of our hearts.

I am also nervous. I find that when people want to read my older work, I get nervous. I think: I've learned even more since then. I might not have written it the exact same way. I become afraid that the writer-me-now will somehow not be conveyed by the writer-me-then.

This is ridiculous, of course. We tell our stories the best way we know how at the time that we write them. I also think that certain stories can only be told at certain times in our lives. We do not stay in one place very long, as we grow in our knowledge and experience and the world alters our views and feelings on a continuous basis. I think no matter how wonderfully and beautifully we might tell a story, when we look back on it from the future, there is always something we might have done differently. Because we are different. But that is how it is meant to be. We are capturing a moment, a feeling in time. We are plunging that stick into the ground and saying, this is where I am. To me, each story is fate and it is beautiful and all meant to be as it is.

Scandalous Spirits is fast, fresh, and fun, and reflects a true love for three ghosts who captured our hearts and imaginations in a special time in our lives. It also allowed us to capture the essence of a place that was almost out of existence then ... and now is out of existence. See, the story could have only happened then, when we wrote it, when it was burning in our hearts, in a special angle of sunlight and dream. Two writer girls trying to hold onto something that was slipping away ... and didn't want it to.

And, our fair reader is thoroughly enjoying the ride of this story. She can't wait to finish it and begin the sequel. She wants to know what happens. Her love of the story is reigniting my old flame. Reminding me what I loved about it and still do and always will because it is in my heart. It is me. It is Beth. Reminding me of the hard work that has already been accomplished and making me proud upon proud of what has been written.

Don't you love when you find new love for your old story?

Hugs, C

Glazed Look

2006-04-17T12:21:00.000-04:00

I had the entire weekend to write. I sat at my computer for two days ... and stared. Stared. And stared some more. I forced myself to sit there for hours. I got through half a page. I could not focus or concentrate at all. My eyes did not even want to look anymore. To be honest, I felt like only going to sleep the whole time.

Yes, today is the last day of tax season. Was it just that my body knew it was the end of the season and decided to collapse then?

A great waste of two lengthy writing days, but I can't beat myself up. Or at least I'm trying not to. Because I still sat. Butt was in chair. As I read somewhere yesterday, ah yes, in The Writer magazine, if I could have written better I would have. And I would have. I tried.

I just have to get over what might have been. Two long, glorious, free days .... Stop!

Ever have the perfect time to write, then can't? Ugh.

Hugs, C

Juggling Projects

2006-04-12T12:37:00.000-04:00

I haven't quite got the juggling projects thing down. I want to work on my short stories, yet I am driven by the challenge of finishing my first solo book. I HAVE to finish this book. It is a very strong matter for me to do so. This project takes up most of my creative thought.

But , BUT, I have also worked hard over the past few years to understand the short story. I love the side trips that short stories take me on. They're like an unexpected rush and usually jolt my mind wide open. Yes, good creative food that would positively affect my bigger story. I do not want to leave the shorts behind or let those hard-learned chops grow rusty ... or rustier (is that a word?).

Of course, I am still learning my solo bookwriting process so this may be way I have not been able to turn my attentions to the shorts. Perhaps once I get a little farther into the book, I'll figure out where to cut in short story time.

I think I can do both. I WANT to do both. Guess I'll take my own advice and just keep paying attention to myself. I'm sure I'll feel it when the time is right to pursue new shorts.

How do you juggle projects? Any advice?

Hugs, C

Cut It Out

2006-04-10T20:45:00.000-04:00

I love tight writing. I love to write tight. I try to write as tightly as I can.

Still, I sent my short story to my friend, Jen Elbaum, because the market to which I want to submit only takes up to 6000 words. I simply did not know what else to cut of this 6413-word story.

As suspected, the fresh eyes found some things. Almost 400 words worth by the time I applied her suggestions and did some reworking sparked by the new energy. Then, once I was jazzed up, I began to tighten even more and worked myself into a cutting frenzy, like the hair stylist who wants to chop, chop, chop! Yes, it's a bolder, bouncier narrative!

There was one suggested cut--yes, my most precious darling of the story--that I did struggle to cut. I knew deep down it was integral to my character, yet I was ready to cut it if necessary. But I waited. I cut it. No. Pasted it back in. Played with it. Played some more ... then, bam! I realized I simply hadn't used it in its strongest possible context. It had to be told from a different angle. By the time I rewrote the paragraph it was shorter and stronger. It plays the role it needs to and really packs a punch. My darling is now my absolute love. (I hope Jen agrees!)

Tomorrow, I will pick up where I left off, and I guarantee I can get that baby under 6000 words. I just needed a trusted writer's eye to make that first incision.

Once you become objective enough and start to see the opportunities, cutting can be fun. It can become downright addicting until that thing is widdled to utter smoothness. There is always the risk of over-cutting, so stay aware of the integrity of your story at the same time. That's why I'm not finishing the tightening tonight. But, again, the first cuts have been made. It won't hurt me now to wield that knife and start the cutting again tomorrow.

How do you feel about cutting? Sometimes pain, sometimes pleasure?

Hugs, C

Get Moving

2006-04-07T18:31:00.000-04:00

Because I have some friends who like me and want to see me happy, they routinely ask me if I have sent out my short story, Gunman's Goodbye. You may recall in a previous post that I wrote about its rejection. Well, class is over and I have no excuse.

Tomorrow, I will print out a new copy, type up a cover letter, and get it in an envelope. OK, so not out the door, but I really don't want to find a metered parking spot in the rain and then stand on the always neverending line at our local post office. That's just me. So it will go from the dry convenience of my office on Monday.

But tomorrow, it will be addressed and sealed with a good-luck kiss ... maybe to Red Rock Review, which lovingly-nudgingly Jennifer Elbaum turned me on to for this story. OK, so the friends pretty much had to do everything but write the story.

Check back tomorrow and I'll let you know the update. Now that I've told you, I have to do it!

Do you sometimes tell others your plan to do something so that it will force you to get moving?

Hugs, C

Distractions

2006-04-06T20:27:00.000-04:00

OK, so who gets more writing done when their significant other is NOT home?

Guess where I land?

Weigh in. What are some methods you use to minimize distractions when others are home and you are trying to write your heart out?

Hugs, C

Little by Little

2006-04-03T09:04:00.000-04:00

I have been in a 12-week accounting course. This past Saturday, it finished. I was in a 5-week Presidential history course (for research). It is finished tonight. The end of tax season is in sight. Two weeks from today, all regular income tax returns are due.

After months of preparation and brainstorming, I began my actual manuscript on January 31, 2006. Just as I was entering the busiest, most crammed time in recent memory.

But, somehow, I have 41 manuscript pages. Maybe not an incredible word count for two months of writing, but I did write. Every day. Even if only had 5 minutes. I could have waited to begin the manuscript when I knew I would have more time, but I didn't want to delay. I knew I had to start at that moment. I vowed to do whatever I could, at least move forward little by little. Even by a word.

So here I am on April 3, 2006, and I have 41 pages. Now that time is about to return to me, I am not starting from scratch. I don't have to face a blank page. No anxiety to suddenly perform after all this time. I have already written up to The First Threshold.

41 pages. It feels slow, yet considering the past two months, it also shows that I stuck with it. I met my goal of working through, no matter how little. Just staying in touch, just being there brought me through over the first 10% of the book.

The moral of this story? Even the tiniest bit of writing each day adds up. Just be in the habit of showing up, even if you only have five minutes. It will establish a routine, you'll automatically sit even when you are almost out the door. Before you know it, you will have the makings of a story.

Now, let's see what I can do with some more time. I'm looking forward to moving even deeper into the story now.

Hugs, C

So Close Yet So Lazy

2006-03-29T20:31:00.000-05:00

I live 12 miles from Manhattan. I can stand at my bedroom window and see the train that glides directly into New York City's Penn Station. Yet how often do I take advantage of this cultural mecca? 2, 3 times a year. Sometimes I go in for a writing class or to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Big fan, big fan. Sometimes I head over to SoHo for unique shopping and then eat at La Mela in Little Italy. Family style and a bottle of red.

But there is so much more to do, and I plan to take advantage of it. Here is the first thing on my list: A Dorothy Parker Walking Tour. A walking tour centered on writers from the 1920's? I'm in. I want to learn more about Dorothy Parker. Her wit has me hooked. She came back on my radar on Monday night at my American Presidents history class. When President Calvin Coolidge died, she quipped, "How can they tell?"

I'm more of the five-minutes-later speed of snappy.

I am also envious of her average day (at least this part of it): lunch every weekday at The Algonquin Hotel where she chatted up with other talented, creative, and outspoken people. Sounds like a dream. This walking tour ends with lunch at The Algonquin. I gotta go see what this is about.

And I can. Because it's only 12 miles away.

Do you live close to something amazing that you rarely take advantage of?

Hugs, C

A Connection Like No Other ... (or The Accidental Penguin)

2006-03-25T13:07:00.000-05:00

"The independent witness of book writers I think provides the deepest and profoundest ... form of communication in our society," said Doctorow, 75, who observed that books are written in silence and read in silence, a "soul to soul" bond unique in the modern world." (E.L. Doctorow in a recent interview.)

I have thought about this myself, but have not put it into such a direct and eloquent statement. I think he is right about a "soul to soul" bond being unique in the modern world. What else could possibly take the time and space to provide such a deep and profound experience? On the intimate level that a book can? I know I am profoundly affected by other media--for example, most recently, The March of the Penguins. This movie evoked so many things from me. I immediately wanted to run with parka to Antarctica. Still, in a book, at least for me--OK, so maybe I shouldn't have picked penguins because now this will sound ridiculous but go with me--I read books to know what's going on inside at least one particular penguin's head. I want to know what he's thinking about through all the steps of his journey (because I think we compare our journeys and try to learn from them). And, if I connect (whether or not I agree) with a particular author's look on the world, his style, I'm going to eat it up more for the slant that penguin's thoughts and actions will have. (For example, I'd want Larry McMurtry to tell the story from the penguin's point of view. Because the penguin will wonder why he keeps trudging over the ice as he continues to trudge over the ice and then one of the eccentric penguins will come up to him and tell him something outrageous like, I'm getting Sloucho's girl this year. I've been working on my moves while Sloucho's been on set for the Diet Coke commercial now that the bears are out. Then our penguin will wonder why the eccentric penguins always come to him to share their wackoness, and then, of course, Sloucho's girl will want our hero because he's quiet and mysterious--though he really just has nothing to say--and it all becomes a beautiful mess.)

I feel the difference between books and other media mostly with character. It is not often that I walk out of a movie theater and say, "it was as good as the book," or rarest of all, "it was better than the book." It can happen, of course, if the movie crew is able to stir the same visceral emotions and reactions provided by the book. Usually what is missing--for me--is the intimate detail that a 2-hour movie could never provide. For example, in a tense scene where a man and wife are arguing, the wife is stting at her dressing table, and in the midst of the chaos, she touches the cool handle of a mirror and is immediately soothed, flashed to a moment in the past where she remembers holding it as a girl and her mother fussing with her hair, and then a moment later she is back in the room with her yelling husband, but different, holding her mother's strength and love ... It's all of those little intimate journeys and sensory details that fill in gaps the movie must leave the viewer to assume. And if the movie is made well, the viewer will assume the most critical ones. Still ...

Second, the silence. As writers, we are writing what we see through the filter of our own knowledge, fear, beliefs, and experience, not to mention through the stretching of ourselves into the unknown. We write from within us, a world we cannot see, hear, taste, or touch ... it may as well be outerspace ... but we can FEEL it, and it's from that feeling that we create. As readers, it is our interpretation of those words that blooms inside of us. The writer's words that are filtered through our knowledge, fear, beliefs, and experience, not to mention through the stretching of ourselves into the unknown. We are directly interpreting the author's words through ourselves and creating a whole new experience. It moves THROUGH us, through every part of us. It feels as though I am meeting in a new world inside of myself with the author, the characters. It becomes so ... real. There is nothing in between us ... we become one and the same.

All art does this on different levels. It is supposed to make us feel, react, take us somewhere. But I agree that nothing to me seems as exploratory as a book.

There is so much more to say, as well as for other art forms that are so deeply evocative and immediate (I'm sure the painter sees a thousand worlds in a brush stroke, the photographer the lifetime of struggle in a skin crease, the musician's heart breaking all over again at midnight as he strums out his blues ... the viewer/listener responding in kind), but these are my thoughts of the moment.

What does Doctorow's quote evoke for you?

Hugs, C

Let's Make a Deal

2006-03-23T19:05:00.000-05:00

I've started a new scene. Right now it's about 4 pages of dialogue and only dialogue. I'm building the bones. What is said in this scene is pivotal. Of course, everything in a story should matter, but in the mind of my plot ... I need to get this just right. Not so much the wording, but what my two characters say to one another to spur the next scene, which I can see already. It has to be strong, tough, believable, and encompass matters old and new.

So, of course, I've been judging everything as I write it. Even as the gentler part of me gets nervous saying, no, you can't judge now. Just write. Judge later. Now is creative time, not edit time. You can't get it down if you're breathing too heavily on it. Then it will be lifeless and forced.

So last night I was able to back off with a deal with myself. OK, just keep writing whatever is coming. Don't judge. We'll print it out and read it at lunch tomorrow with a fresh eye. It might not be as bad as you think. Just GO. No thought.

So I did just that, and read it at lunch today. It wasn't bad. Not at all. It's moving along and giving me plenty to work with when I go back to add the flesh. I still have to finish it, but I'm so glad I didn't let my inner critic completely stall the work. But I had to make a deal to do that. It probably wouldn't have turned off if I didn't acknowledge that it would get its turn. But right then it was the creator's turn, and it needed space to run. No breathing down its neck.

Do you find you sometimes have to make deals with your inner critic?

Hugs, C

Picking Up Pieces

2006-03-22T17:40:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: I think I've been rambling lately since tax season really kicked in. I'm sorry for this. Please bear with me. :-)

I used to sit and write whatever came out in the moment. Then it shut off until the next time I sat. I didn't really think much about the story in between sittings. It just turned on and off when I needed it. Sometimes thoughts would come to me in between, but not like they do now.

Now they come at me wherever I am, on the move, throughout the day. I'm using a voice recorder, pencil and crocodile-covered journal, and Alphasmart to catch the ideas and snippets of dialogue or narrative or back story. It feels like finding pieces all around, collecting them, and then going home to sew them together into a patchwork quilt. Only I try to piece them together so that the seams are not so obvious.

I think the deluge might have to do with that commitment that I made. The one where I demanded that I must make this happen. This story must get written. There is no exception. There is no in between. So I opened up my mind with expectation. I invited it all to come.

Though tax season might slow it down, I am always tuned in, thinking about it as much as I can. Things around me might trigger ideas or a notion might simply float into my awareness during a slow moment. Yeah, it's really those moments where you stop and take a deep breath between tasks--say, when the copy room is suddenly quiet and empty--and inside you can feel as a deep as a canyon, and suddenly you turn your mind back to your story and there it is ... something grand or something small, but something speaking nonetheless in that canyon-sized silence and presence. You connected and picked up another piece that will carry you to the next piece.

So, in the moments at work or in the car or wherever, these pieces will appear, and I gather, and I come home and try to tell a story.

How and where do you pick up your pieces of story?

Hugs, C

Surreal Sopranos

2006-03-20T21:48:00.000-05:00

Spoiler if you haven't seen Sunday's The Sopranos episode.

I have the feeling this was an episode viewers either loved or hated. I'm in the love category. I thought it was brilliant. I'll admit, I was nervous when it started out in dream. I hated that other dream sequence they did once, with Tony riding in the old car and the catepillar and he and Carmella watching themselves on TV.

But I got sucked into this one. The whole drama unfolding around him in the physical world--the mob captains jockeying for position, the kids really deepening their life roles--and then the whole drama unfolding in his inner world while he is in a coma. I loved that we watch him as a salesman with a non-mob life. He has lost his wallet while on the road (switched with someone else by accident) and, in turn, his identity is out there, in someone else's. He is in virtual limbo. He can't fly or rent a car or even a hotel room. So he has to pretend to be Kevin Finnerty, the man's wallet he has instead. A very non-Italian name. One of the very first images is him lying in a hotel room, a big view of some city, and, in the distance, a search light. This plays throughout. I think we know what light that is in the distance. Searching, almost waiting. At another time is a different light, one of a helicopter, almost like a police helicopter, more direct and in his face, which in a flash, we see is the ER doctor with her pen light.

The monks waiting for him. One slapping him, thinking he's the other guy who ripped him off, and Tony talking to his wife later on the phone about it, unsure what to do. The Christian commercial at the bar (I forget what it said but it was very applicable).

So much goes on that I can't possibly hit it all here. Suffice it to say, the episode went down like a full-bodied wine for me. Nothing, not a thing went to waste in the show. Not one facial expression or word. The simultaenous unfolding to me was creative and expert. It left much to interpretation, which I think was daring and smart. I loved how Tony has no ID, can't seem to get anywhere, except between hotels. Even the almost bad-girl in his coma turns out to be good. The voice of his wife on the phone I don't even think was Carmella. Maybe it was Arty's wife. He thinks she's a good girl (and she didn't want him ultimately). His kids are younger on the phone, perhaps before they started rebelling?

The hole in his chest in the hospital can be interpreted in different ways too. The Alzheimer's.

I love layers. The fact that I'm still dissecting this episode speaks volumes for me. I can't say enough about their choice of structure. It opened a whole new world and deepened The Sopranos story.

What did you think? Am I off my rocker?

Hugs, C

Out of Touch

2006-03-20T12:37:00.000-05:00

So I did not follow my own advice about keeping in touch with my characters. I have not worked in my story since Friday at lunchtime. Boooo! As in my previous post, I ended up getting my house and husband's business books in order. I did not seem able to function on any other level until the chaos around me had some order. I had to shake off the malaise and exhaustion of the week and take back that feeling of energy and power! Some of that included rest too.

Now order has been restored on the homefront. I'm back in tax business today, but when I go home tonight, I will be able to focus on the writing. Food shopping is done and meals are prepped and ready to go. So my day might be chaos, but when I go home, my night should not be. I'm ready to get back in it and move forward!

I can say that, while I was running on Saturday, I did come up with an idea for the story ... thanks to Prince and one his songs. You never know where you're going to get inspiration!

Anne Lamott said somewhere that she used to not be able to write if there were dishes in the sink. Now she can write if there is a corpse in it. I always remember this and follow it for a long as I can. But then a certain point comes where I have to take care of domestic business. It's distraction level becomes too great.

When do you know you have to set down the pen and pick up the scrub brush?

Hugs, C

Mean Streets and Clean Sheets

2006-03-18T16:51:00.000-05:00

I ran my first 5-miler of the season! 56 minutes. Not so bad for my first long trek since December. During the darkest, coldest months, I lower my run to my maintenance level, which is 2.5 miles. This makes it not so difficult to build back up to 5. After a while, I'll boost it up to 6, but that won't be until it's really nice out and I can finish my run in the light at night. Soon, I will also mix up my long runs with short sprints, which is usually running a mile flat out and then walking home. The sprints really help to build my endurance and improve my time. That's what puts me in the best shape. Ultimately, I'd like to build yoga back into my routine as well. I love how loose and stretched my body feels. I feel healthy in every way after a yoga session.

So that's my story today. Ran 5 miles and did 5 loads of laundry. Had to get some feel-good chores done in the other areas of my life (clean sheets on the bed are good) so I can focus on writing. After bookkeeping class this morning, I found I needed to just plain get some things done before I could sit and work on the story. For the rest of tonight, relaxation and maybe some wine. Somewhere in there, I'll peck out a few words too.

Enjoy your weekend!

Hugs, C

Staying in It

2006-03-16T17:33:00.000-05:00

I started a new job last fall. It is a good job. But now it is tax season, and there is more information passing through my brain than I could have ever imagined. By evening, it's mental shut down. I come home feeling like a wrung-out washcloth. April 17th is my new mantra. It's about what I can manage after 5:00 pm.

But enough whining. Here is what I am trying to do to keep my story moving forward during severe brain drain:

- Leave myself at least 15 or 20 minutes in the morning before I leave to at least work a little in my current scene. At least this way I am touching it, reminding myself of it, feeling it. Keeping it in me. Stephen King in his fabulous book, On Writing, says (interpreted here) that he must work in his story, even just a little, every day or his characters grow distant from him and it's hard to lure them back. I've found that to be true.

- I scribble in my journal during my 1/2 hour lunch. I write those off-stage things that help bolster what I am working on. For example, yesterday I wrote a scene already written in my protagonist's POV from the point of view of my antagonist. The book does not go into my antag's POV, but it really helped to know what was going through his mind at that moment. It will lead to something that night. It stregthens what will be on page.

- I do what I can at night. I try not to make myself feel worse by task-mastering too hard. Sometimes a bath will revive me. Sometimes I just need to lay down for a little while. Running would help but I just haven't had it in me during the week. That will change soon as the weather warms up, but I'm trying not to feel guilty about that either. So, I just dabble a little to "stay in it", but if that's all that happens, it has to be OK.

What do you do to keep your story alive when everything else is draining your energy?

Hugs, C

Birth of a Star

2006-03-14T19:17:00.000-05:00

I received my latest Writers Ask over the weekend. It's an exceptional quarterly put out by Glimmer Train Press that covers specific writing topics by interviewing well-known writers. I think they do a full interview with the writer, but each issue lists only those answers to the topics which are being covered. 4 topics per issue. So it feels like an interview, only different writers are answering the same question, not just one writer. It's an enjoyable, easy read that gives many different takes on the same subject.

One of this month's topics was Conception. Where writers come up with their ideas. It got me to thinking from where my ideas come. For me, it's usually an image that suddenly shows up in my mind that provokes something to life. It stirs something within me. It usually tells me about the opening of a story. I don't think I've ever come up with an ending first. Sometimes too though it can be an opening line. I wrote in this blog about how I'd come up with a title, Gunman's Goodbye, and wrote a story from there. Another time an image created by a song lead to another idea. Sometimes, when I sit to write a short, I have no idea what the first word might be. I just trust it and leap. That's the 10-minute timed writing training rearing its head.

When I was younger, I did not pay much to attention to "where" my ideas came from, I only made sure that I stayed alert to when they did show up. Kept up that idea net at all times. Now that I'm knee-deep into my own book, I have been paying very close attention ... and I still don't think I can tell you from where they come. I can only say that showing up every day with pencil and paper (or voice recorder or pc) has kept them coming.

Speaking of showing up, the magic side of idea conception made me imagine the birth of a star. It goes something like this: The first step in the birth of a star is to wait. Dust, gas, and other materials sit around in nebulae, and wait for eons until a passing star, shockwave, or other gravitational disturbance passes through or by the nebula.

I'd like to think that we are the passing star or shockwave and ideas are star dust waiting to be born by us and our experience.

From where do your ideas come? Do you lure them in a special way? Or are the arrival of ideas still a mystery to you too? How do you catch them?

Hugs, C

Addendum: Regarding Gunman's Goodbye, I just remembered that I actually had an image of a gunman protecting the very last thing he had in his possession. Then, immediately afterward, I came up with the title. So it seems I tend to "see" my ideas first as an image. I guess I am more visual than I thought. Interesting.

Revelations

2006-03-12T14:07:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I remembered that I tend to write scenes as bones first, then go back and color them in and then color them in some more, and then even more. I remembered that I do need scenes as fleshed out as I can get them before I can move too far ahead. I had moved ahead until the alarm went off that I needed more information, so now I'm back adding more flesh. The first scene is growing fuller and more dynamic ... my protagonist and antagonist are becoming more alive to me. Their problems with each other and the ones they have with themselves are becoming more clear.

I learned two very cool things about my antagonist today. I could not have made them up without being in the thick of writing. The two revelations came out through my hero, who is in the same room as his old, no-longer friend, the antagonist. I was learning about the antagonist through my hero's eyes ... not mine. Which is great because it's their relationship that propels most of this story. But I was only able to do that by writing and writing again and writing even more on-stage and off-stage about my protagonist and trying to understand where he's been.

Even though I've done a lot of pre-work on this story, it is still the actual writing that leads to the juiciest discoveries. All I can do in advance is create the structure into which it can flow and surprise.

Have you been surprised lately by something that popped up in your writing?

Hugs, C

Taking Shape

2006-03-10T08:37:00.000-05:00

I now have two scenes on stage in my story. Some things are still missing, but the narartive is starting to take shape. There is actually some sense going on here, and my protagonist is really starting to talk to me. I think the breakthrough I had really unplugged some things. Last night, I kept having these little breathless moments when things started to connect between the scenes and build to the next. There is a serious platform being built here, and I am excited.

What I am trying to say is, I can actually see something coming together here, where before it all seemed a jumbled mess I didn't know if I could ever pull together. I can't wait to go home tonight and work on it some more. That's a good sign.

Do you have a usual place in your stories where you start to see things come together? Or is it different every time?

Hugs, C

The Hands that Lift

2006-03-08T17:49:00.000-05:00

I just want to take a moment to thank my bestest friends, Beth Ciotta and Jennifer Elbaum, for their unflagging support. They read my blog about panic yesterday and reminded me that they are here for me. I hope that they know that they are the ones that lifted my courage enough to even try this story, as well as keeping it lifted to continue with it. They tell me that I am not high maintenance, but sometimes I feel like I am. I guess it ties back into that being human thing again. Just can't seem to get away from that. (g)

The physical writing is something we do alone, yet it is our connection to other humans that allows us to connect to the spirit of things about which we write. It is also the ability to share these connections and discoveries that can make it so exciting. We may have the support of our loved ones, but it is the support of other writers and artists who truly get with what we are struggling. They live through it too and can truly celebrate the joys of when we have hit on something, no matter how small. The ones who, when they say, you can do it, they know just what they are saying and you can believe it.

By the way, I had a little extra time today and did have a breakthrough! I figured out why my antagonist was holding things up. His relationship, though lifelong with the protagonist, was still too distant from him. I had to bring the two closer and tighter. Ironically, they had to be best friends. They had to have the deep, twining bond.

The other issue seemed to be that I needed an additional ticking clock. An even larger and more potentially damaging one above what was happening to my characters. One that would really be bad to others if the characters failed in their mission. I have it in one world and thought I had it in the other but things had either changed or it had gotten lost somewhere along the way. This is called Public Stakes in Donald Maass' Writing the Breakout Novel. (My book is signed by Mr. Maass and he wrote, Raise the Stakes!). So, now my characters have a lot more to worry about, but it all ties together, and should--hopefully!--keep the plot and motivation driving throughout.

Whew. I have written two pages of a new scene. It is a breath of fresh air. I am psyched and can report that, as always, working through the panic paid off!

Thanks, guys, for being there! Did I saw whew?

Aside from the actual writing, who or what keeps your courage lifted?

Hugs, C

Around the Bend

2006-03-07T09:36:00.000-05:00

Every couple of weeks, I start panicking. What is this story about? Who is even going to care to read it? Why does it matter? What is the point of it? I tell myself I'm going in circles. I chide myself that I'm still asking the same questions.

It is terrifying, humbling, and trying.

Writing is not for the faint of heart. Or rather, we can have moments of feeling faint, but we must, MUST work our way through it. Sometimes when we are at our most resistant is when we are about to make a breakthrough. Or maybe we're just in a mood, and then it's simply a matter of practicing our perseverance. Living what it is to be a writer. To write through the times of utter panic and despair. These are the times that make us strong, give us the courage as writers because we know we can work through the rough times as well as the flow times.

Isak Dinesen, who wrote Out of Africa, said to "Write without hope and without despair." I always remember this, if not in practice then in theory. It is excellent advice. It is writing simply with no expectation ... good or bad. It is staying out of the way of the writing. It is not always easy and not always done. But once we right the rocking boat, I think this is where we do end up. Simply writing again, ourselves out of the way after a brief storm.

But there are times when we are in our way because we are human--biological and complex beings. I think perhaps the best medicine is to forgive ourselves for having these faint moments, accepting them for what they are, and then moving through them by writing with no expectation or judgment. We must stick to the writing and tell ourselves, just keep going, eventually we'll come around the bend again and see the lush, green valley.

This is what I'm telling myself right now.

If you panic sometimes like me, what do you do or tell yourself?

Hugs, C

Off Stage

2006-03-03T17:15:00.000-05:00

Man, my antagonist is elusive. He continues to show me stark opposite sides of himself. I am having quite the time getting a grip on him. It's been difficult to move forward in my scenes because so much has happened between my antagonist and protagonist in the past, and these feelings they have for one another are so very important at the opening of my story.

So now I am handwriting scenes from their pasts in my journal. I have taken the story off stage, so to speak, and am mining deep for the core of their troubles and why. It turns out they have much more history than I thought when I started. I understand the troubles on an intuitive level, but I'm finding I need to know more specifics. It is actually a very interesting exercise, though frustrating to the production taskmaster side of myself who wants to add word count to the meter on my blog. I am adding word count, just not to the structured manuscript. But that will have to wait as I dig deeper for character truths and memory. These two have a whole lot of shared memories, and neither one of them sees them the same.

Once I understand the true nature of their past relationship--not every detail mind you, just the heart of it and exactly why there is such antagonism--I will let the present and future of it unfold in the manuscript. As writers, we have to move forward into our stories without certain information because it will come with the writing. The writing allows the discovery. In this case, I am still writing to discover, only I'm doing it in my journal, almost like a worksheet, instead of in the manuscript. This gives me wider freedom to explore what I need to without feeling as though it's not following the forward motion of the story. It's off stage. Which makes sense, since (a) this is back story and scenes the reader may never see and (b) I am obviously not ready for my antagonist to take center stage. We are still in rehearsals.

What do you do when you run across elusive characters?

Hugs, C

Run to Slow Down

2006-03-01T19:10:00.000-05:00

Tonight I went running, and I remembered how some runs come easy and I glide along effortlessly and can think about the wind and the birds and the trees. Then there are the other runs, where every step feels like I'm wearing cement boots. This is when I cannot think of the end but only of each step. I have to set small goals, like the next driveway or the next block. I absolutely cannot think about the end or I will become overwhelmed by the thought of the whole run. I can only take one step at a time, and I have to keep my goals short ... until I reach that one, then make a new one, and another, until I finish the journey.

Sometimes on the last leg of the run I am sailing along, having caught my wind, and enjoying every minute of it. Sometimes the sailing never comes, but I finished, I stuck with it and kept my body and mind trained. I still did it, no matter how graceless, and that's all that matters.

I've learned a lot about writing from running. The same philosophies apply when it comes to endurance and focusing the mind. Plus, after I run, I can usually plant myself in the chair because my legs are tired and I've spent my physical energy. This also leaves my mind more awake, and the edges from the day are smoothed. So often the energy of my writing reflects the energy of my body.

I will remember this tonight as I open my work in progress. One step at a time. Just to the next driveway ... keep going ....

What little tricks work for you when every word feels like trudging through quicksand?

P.S. Be sure to visit Beth Ciotta's blog about just jumping in when you feel resistant.

20 Questions

2006-02-28T12:42:00.000-05:00

So everytime I move forward a tiny bit in my story, I come up against another 20 questions. Some are about my characters, surprising me with new information or sides of themselves. Most are about the world in which they live. This is my first attempt at writing something longer than a short story that takes place in another world. At the same time that it is intense, it is also fascinating to think about how a world's traditions and standards have come about in the first place. It can be daunting yet also rewarding when I actually figure out something. One of the key things I try to remember is, even though I might have to know it, it doesn't necessarily need to be in the story. This kind of information builds like an iceberg really ... the tip showing above water is only what needs to be known by the reader, but then there is a whole unseen mountain of ice below that surface holding it up, and that is the hard work of brainstorming and problem-solving. (Also for me right now, I've realized I have to pencil a brief timeline of the land's history and also a map so I can better understand where I am.)

Do you constantly run into new questions as you write? If so, what do you do with them? Make notes for later, go back and weave them in immediately?

I'm curious.

C

Artiste

2006-02-25T20:41:00.000-05:00

I never knew I was an artist. I used to hate having to do anything creative in school. I used to like to have my cut-and-dry assignments. This way I could get them done and then go play, be outside. Creative assignments had required thought and preparation, involvement and commitment. I had no idea how to do this. I had no idea how or from where to draw, well, ideas. It all seemed so random and elusive. Not to mention I did not have any big-picture sense of the world. I was pretty much running through it at breakneck speed, trying to cross some unseen finish line, even at a young age.

Then I started to read romance at age 16 and fell in love with it. Then at about age 19 came the eventual thought: hey, I can do this. Why I had this thought, I cannot tell you. I wish upon wish that I knew. Perhaps it was more about feeling a true passion for something for the first time and not realizing it. Perhaps it was more, I want to do this. So I toyed around for a few years with writing. A little here, a little there. No big thought about it. Just little thoughts and attractions that kept drawing me back from time to time.

The one constant in my life: I had always LOVED to read. But it never ocurred to me that this had to do with anything.

Somehow this little attraction to writing grew. I bought Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones and Wild Mind. I wish I could remember who recommended Bones (I've recommended it to anyone who would listen ever since), because it opened up a whole new world for me. Writing was not only about big projects and scholarly efforts. It could be as easy as sitting and jotting down something you saw or something you heard or felt. You just had to look, listen. I had never stopped long enough before to look or listen. Everything had always been a blur, trying to get somewhere without even knowing where. I started to learn how to take one step at a time. (By the way, I am still to this day, Queen of the 10-Minute Write.)

In 1993, I attended a writers conference at Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz, New York. I forget most of it because that's what I do, but I do remember the exercise about being specific. Natalie was not there but she had said the same thing in her book. It's not a car; it's a Cadillac. It's not a flower; it's a daisy. I started to see the world less in broad, generic terms but more in specifics. I started to see colors and know the names of things. I started to notice things, to pause and sometimes even to stop. (gasp)

It is many years later. I am 35 and still learning what it means to be an artist, which to me, seems to mean someone who pays a deeper attention to something and helps others to see it as well. Slowing down enough is not always easy, but I have learned the beauty and secret of a meaningful journey, which means living fully each tiny step along the way. So if I ever feel overwhelmed, I remind myself that I only have to take one small step at a time. That's it. One after the other. No more, no less. I can't swallow the whole apple or the whole world in one bite. Nor do I want to as I would miss the taste, the experience, that will add up to the whole. I have to continually remind myself of these things that I have learned, and I know that I will never stop learning. I can only keep paying attention and molding my life accordingly. As we grow, some of our old ways won't work anymore. Sometimes it takes time to shift our everyday to catch up with our hearts and minds and souls as they leap and soar ahead of us. I'm trying to be patient. My artist self has really started to make her presence known. As though she is dusting off all of the dirt in which she has been buried and saying, finally. Took you long enough.

I have a black-and-white photograph of Georgia O'Keefe, and it resonates with me. An older woman, hair pulled back, loose blouse, out in the sun, canvas stretched, doing what she loves, because there is nothing else in this world for her to do. It's as natural as breathing, as natural as the snow on the mountains behind her. Her sharp, squinty eyes see things only she can see. But then she gets it down on paper as best she can so that she can live it and we can live it too. She's lived a lifetime of blazing her own trail. You almost imagine it will be the same when she dies.

I want that to be me. I want to be an artist. I am an artist.

(See those sick eyes above? I painted those during a painting phase I had a few years ago, which I always hope to get back to. Or maybe I shouldn't.)

When did you first know you were an artist?

C

Rejected!

2006-02-23T17:55:00.000-05:00

I came home to find the ominous 9x12 envelope decorated in my own handwriting waiting on the kitchen table. Crazyhorse (College of Charleston) rejected my 6500-word short story, Gunman's Goodbye. Form letter, or rather, very professional printed card. Darn, I was really hoping for a word or two about the editor's thoughts. From other rejections in the past, I know that sometimes it can be more frustrating to receive no personal word about the work than the actual rejection. You're left with no real clue as to why it didn't make the cut. Did it just not fit the type of story they were looking for at the time or did they think something about it was weak? I understand that there is not enough time in the day for editors to write to everyone. Still, it is such a let down when you open the envelope, and it feels as distant as when you submitted the manuscript.

So, what next? Well, the manuscript is in great condition so I can turn around and send it right back out again. I will refer to the short list of publications that I had created when I first decided to send it out. Maybe I'll even read it again now that I have had some more distance. Maybe something that I couldn't see before will jump out at me. Maybe not. Maybe I'll fall in love with it all over again and rekindle the excitement I felt after writing it.

I am new to short-story submissions so it's still an educational process for me to learn the market too. I do not know automatically know where to send something of this length (as opposed to flash fiction, with which I've done a little more work). Either way, it's one road taken and now I can try another. Who knows what awaits!

What do you do (or used to do) when that instantly-recognizable envelope is waiting on your table?

(By the way, I went running and blared my tunes and made great time! (2.5 miles in 24 minutes ... pretty good for my mid-winter maintenance.) I feel refreshed now and ready to eat the refrigerator :-)

Hugs, C

Where We Are

2006-02-22T11:19:00.000-05:00

As you might have read in a previous post, I am at the beginning of my novel. I have been involved in a flurry of note-taking and writing my scenes out of order and simply mining what I saw in my mind's eye for more information. Capturing images and dialogue before they disappeared, whether or not they make sense to me in the overall picture. These were the clues I had to go on.

Now, my instincts have told me that I need to finish cutting and streamlining the first scene. Actually, as I write this, I am just about done doing this. The collection of thoughts and dialogue needed to be honed with all of the ideas I've had swirling around, so that I can move on to the next scene, which is also partially written. I need to start feeling forward motion and continuity. I need new excitement to build as even newer things are discovered.

I am also ignoring any notion of this scene being perfect. It's enough now that it leads me to the next scene. I know that so many things will change; it's useless to wallow in details right now. As long as the scene serves its purpose to move along the characters and story, that will be enough.

This is where I am. Listening and scribbling and needing to move forward. I want to cross that First Threshold. I want the rollercoaster cars to crest and start the plunge down the first hill! Here's to wind in the hair!

Where are you in your story?

Hugs, C

Pirate at the Diner

2006-02-20T20:25:00.000-05:00

In keeping with the creative mood, I thought I would share with you the below little story. It was published in The Writers' E-Zine in 2003. Sitting here on a Monday night, I know I needed this reminder: writing is fun!

Pirate at the Diner
by Cynthia Valero

I watched him at the dinner counter. Slurping soup from a spoon, dripping, sloshing, splattering everywhere. A string of pasta dangled from his lip as a round of carrot dropped to the floor and rolled near my boot. When the waitress swung by with the coffeepot, he growled at her and she jumped away, spilling hot brew on her chest. He acted like he had rabies.

I scribbled something in my notebook. Something to remember later about the gritty squint of his eye, the thin white lines splayed out from the corner, and the black beret pulled low over his forehead. Dark stubble harvested in short, spiky stalks across a ruddy -- no -- a tight, browned cheek. He looked as though he'd sailed the wind-whipped decks of an old schooner all the way across the Atlantic.

I wrote something else. The scratch of my pencil made me smile. The sound of work, creation, satisfaction. I imagined he wore a striped tunic and red kerchief beneath his black coat. I wanted him to be a sailor from a ghost ship, come in from the fog of lost time, stumbling through the docks to the diner, where he grunted and looked mean, and the waitress simply brought him something to keep him from lunging at her.

He stopped chewing and turned. His one good eye like silver ice as he caught me staring. His other eye ... gone! I swallowed at the hooked scar from lip to eye. I'd only seen the one side of his face. He grinned a greasy, gapped smile and my heart pounded. His knobby fingers tapped the scabbard inside his long coat.

He rose and his bones creaked as he settled on ratty, knee-high boots. I gulped. Writing, scribbling. He was alive! The string of pasta swung from his lip as he hitched over to where I sat, with nothing to defend myself but pen, notebook, and a grilled cheese sandwich.

He drew his sword and I shrunk back into the booth. I looked about in panic, my blood pumping, but no one seemed to notice. He pricked the point of his gleaming rapier against my throat and squinted at me with his one eye. Then he threw back his head and laughed, the scratchy sound echoing off the ceiling. He spat to his side and withdrew. His heavy boots crushed the carrot as he returned to the stool at the counter.

Breathing heavily, I looked down at my notebook. I looked back to the counter. The man in the long black coat and bad mood threw some change next to his splattered plate. He stumbled out without a single glance in my direction.

I'd brought a pirate to life in the diner! What wonders of writing! Excited and exhausted, I finished my grilled cheese, leaving the accosted waitress a big tip.

Bringing Notes to Life

2006-02-19T09:38:00.000-05:00

In the past, I have rarely gone back and read ideas or things I jotted down on index cards. The important thing was the practice, that the idea net was out and the idea was captured. I didn't have to fear losing it if I ever wanted it or stress myself subliminally by trying to hold onto it in my mind (never works anyway). But then I always moved on to the next thing, working on whatever struck me in the moment. I have drawers full of scribbled dialogue and characters and story starters.

One night last spring, I found one of these index cards in The Moon Maid and Other Fantastic Adventures that I picked up after leaving it sit unfinished for about a year (I stopped at the last story; I think I didn't want it to end! R. Garcia Y Robertson has quite an imagination). This was about the time I wanted to write and finish a short story--not my usual flash fiction--but something longer. On the minty-green index card it said, Gunman's Goodbye. A title that had floated through my head a year before and was long gone. Until it found its way back to me. Below that it said, "Imagine having only one thing. Not so many things like now that you can't keep track. But only one thing to treasure and care for. How valuable that thing would be to you."

The next morning first thing, I sat with my notebook and pencil and wrote this story over the next three to five days (not including the rewrite, which took about a month). I also found a wonderful short story workshop, and I was thrilled to actually have something longer to review and edit with others. I really wanted to come to understand the short story. I had attended short story classes in the past--including at The Writers Studio and Zoetrope in NYC. All were building blocks to bring me closer to where I was, but I still needed something to push me through to overall understanding. This story and this class did that.

What I am trying to say is, if I had not written those little scraps of thought on the index card, I would not have written Gunman's Goodbye or had the enlightening experience of the short story workshop. I would not be as excited today about writing more short stories. Will I ever use all of those scribbles in my draw? Probably not, but I did go back and read them once and some of them made me smile. Maybe next time, one of them will spark something. Or perhaps it is simply a good habit to keep so that we do not miss that one great idea that might make a difference in our lives. It keeps us alert, attuned, our antennae is up ... and that's what matters most.

So, should I feel overwhelmed that I have more pages of notes than pages of manuscript for my current story? I don't think so ... Though I am one to be intimidated by lots of paperwork. But I am learning that to transfer ideas from my head to paper allows new ideas to come in. I've looked back at my older notes and learned that they have served two purposes beyond making room for more: (1) they've allowed me to work through my characters and plot outside of the manuscript so that I wasn't writing in circles in the manuscript (2) that most of my notes for this part of the story have worked their way into the manuscript in one form or another without sitting and studying them when actually writing. Writing them down and paying attention had put them into subconscious to be tested and stretched and tried on for size. But the ideas were taken seriously by me and treated with care and respect. Like anything in nature, the ideas respond to that.

I don't know that every story I will write will require such detailed attention, notes, and sketching. I honestly didn't know I had so many thoughts until I started to make these notes! (I've even started to use a voice recorder while driving or watching a movie.) But I can say that this story does require my catching my every thought, my working through them by sketching on side paper, at least for now, and so that is what I am doing. I am trying not to be intimidated by the minutiae, so I am telling myself that instead of staring at blank paper, I have my notes to help bring my story to life.

Once you start really listening, you will be amazed at how many ideas float through your mind in one day. If you haven't done so already, put up those butterfly nets in your mind and start catching those whispers and images! But don't only catch them, also write them down, give them the treatment that they deserve so that they keep coming!

Do you work with notes of any kind? If so, what do you do?

Too Early to Start Dreaming?

2006-02-16T20:12:00.000-05:00

I remember before Beth and I were published. She created and printed out from her computer two fictitious book covers with the names of our books on them. One of them was even before we were writing it. I had always heard of creative visualization, and Beth handed me two concrete samples of it.

If you imagine it and believe in it, it will come.

So, I'm on page 25 of my new book. Is it too early to start dreaming about what agent I would love to have? Does it seem ridiculous when I haven't yet crossed The First Threshold of the story? With the way I'm feeling right now--excited, breathless, anticipatory--I'm saying no. Because I am imagining submitting a finished, fresh manuscript of which I am proud. Seeing it in this form in my mind begins to make my dream more concrete. More real. More reality.

So, because I wrote earlier today and I am tired, I decided to browse agent sites. Because I wanted to dream and to visualize. To imagine what the next step in my journey might be once I wrap up my story. Like letting my characters and new world simmer within me, the very important choice of where to send my work can simmer too. So that when I get there, I might have some idea of where I want it to go first.

It also makes me strive to make my work even better, thinking about who might read it at the other end. Not in a paralyzing way, which is easy to let happen (I know), but in an inspiring way. A way that communicates with every part of me--conscious, subconscious, heart, mind, soul--that I am serious and that this dream is worth committing to. It is worth pursuing and working for. My subconscious and logical mind can begin to work together and commit to the journey, the same goal, and each knows what it has to do, and what it should look like in the end. I'm learning that, if I believe it in enough, I can make something happen. Then someone else might believe in it too.

Mostly, I want to live up to my dreams.

Is it ever too early to start dreaming beyond your story? What do you do?

In the Trenches

2006-02-15T11:42:00.000-05:00

Most of you know that Beth Ciotta is one of my critique partners. These past few days I had the pleasure of reading from start to finish the first book, Operation Love Boat, in her upcoming HQN series, The Chameleon Chronicles. Mary Stella and I have been reading along the way, but it's always the ultimate thrill to see how the book ends and how it came together as a whole. This story is a winner. Beth knows how to write an original, compelling story with imperfect, endearing characters and non-stop action.

Beth thanks her critique partners for their help, but she makes our job easy. I want to thank Beth for entrusting me with her work and for allowing me to learn from her. There is nothing that gets a brain thinking and motivation surging like being in the trenches with another writer who is writing.

Watching what they do, how they do it, how they go back, how they keep going. Watching the process unfold, stop, start, and finally wind up. Working through the knots and riding the exhiliration that follows. It is like a mirror for my own process, reminding me that sometimes it flows and sometimes it does not. It reminds me that sometimes I need an eye that is not so close to the story. Someone who can see what I can't. Mostly it reminds me about perseverance and faith. Because writing a story from start to finish is a sheer act of perseverance and faith.

It is inspiring, and, as always, Beth inspires me. As does my other critique partner, Jennifer Elbaum, who has propped me up on my other side for well over a year now. If not for these two talented and supportive writers, I would not be where I am now. The best place in the world. A writer writing in the trenches with other writers.

Who inspires you?

What Do I Know?

2006-02-13T13:07:00.000-05:00

Write What You Know

I remember hearing this writing proverb for the first time 11 years ago at a writer's conference. It struck terror. What do I know? My brain raced through what I knew like a deck of cards flipping. Uh, not too much about anything? I was 24 years old. I was a secretary. I knew how to type and do shorthand. I knew how to watch the clock. Did that mean I could only write from the point of a view of a secretary? I didn't care about writing from the point of view of a secretary. Secretary's make the world go around, but I didn't like being in an office. That was boring to me! I was already in an office. I did not want to write office stories! (To this day, I still have not written an office story.)

There are many aspects to this Write What We Know topic, so let me start with one angle here. Lest we think we do not know much about anything, here is some of what I didn't know I knew 11 years ago:

- What it felt like to be a child of divorce
- What it felt like to be bullied at a new school
- What it felt like to take karate and no longer be afraid
- What it felt like to buy my first car, with my own money
- What it felt like to be in a car accident or two
- What it felt like to adore anything with cheese
- What it felt like to drive through a hurricane in an old VW Bug
- What it felt like to lose my childhood dog
- What it felt like to hear someone I loved had cancer
- What it felt like to attend a wake and a funeral for the first time
- What it felt like to learn how to swim in the local manmade lake
- What it felt like to ride my bike in my hometown in the summer
- What it felt like to lose my mind the day the carnival came to town

You get my drift. I could go on for days, and this was only at the age of 24. Do we even have to write about these things? No. But chances are these experiences will creep into our writing--consciously or subconsciously--because they are a part of us. We know about these things because we have lived. Flannery O'Connor said that anyone who has survived childhood has enough material to write for the rest of his life. But we are also still living after childhood, and this list of what we know keeps growing and goes on forever.

In a past post, I said that I knew nothing about writing a fantasy. Yes, perhaps the mechanics, the market, etc. But I do know human nature and have been involved in more human-relations scenarios than I could ever fathom. So have you. I choose to imagine my hero with the same human nature as our world. Maybe different histories but the same natures and emotions as us, the same things that drive them and paralyze them. Humans I know (as much as I can anyway; there will always be surprises). Also, when my hero arrives in this world, I know what it means to live on Earth, to live in the United States. As a matter of fact, I may realize just how much I do know when I start writing this part of my story.

Another angle of this, and with respect to the past days' posts, is writing what I know is also writing what I see first. What has revealed itself to me and come alive in my head. If something is there, I go with that first. It's like pulling a thread, and I have to pull this little thread to get the tapestry. I cannot question it. If I start to question the validity before I pull the thread or avoid it altogether, it may kill whatever my subconscious was trying to offer to me. In almost all instances, I'm missing something essential. Something that will lead me to the things I do not know. I've learned this from experience. So, in this instance, for me, writing what I know is also going with the information I have at the moment. And letting it inform me of what I don't know.

Of course, not everyone is like me when it comes to having no interest in their day work. You all know Beth Ciotta is writing what she knows, literally and wonderfully ... about being a performer. She writes many of her stories in the place she knows, Atlantic City. It comes naturally to her, and you can feel its authenticity, its authority. She KNOWS the behind the scenes of these worlds. We feel in the know. It's a special peek, and the difference here is that Beth has a passion for what does/did for a living. It's saturated her life, her heart, her blood. How could she not write about it? We feel her love and excitement for it so we love it and get excited.

But what about things we really don't know about? Like being a private investigator or an oil-rig worker or a divorcee if we were never divorced or even married? First, we must truly be curious about what we don't know. We must be interested in what we are writing about--even unexpectedly and even if it's something that makes us uncomfortable, because isn't it in the end all about helping ourselves to understand who we are as a people and why? It returns again to the passion. Because if you really want to know, you absorb it and make it yours. We must immerse ourselves in what we want to write about--whether in person, or through books or interviews, whatever--so that it feels as though we are authorities. We have to spend a lot of time with it. We have to care about it. Even spend time with it in our minds at first. Imagination, as we know, fills in many of these gaps because we understand some of the basic laws of life. With a little concrete information, we can imagine what it might be like to be these people, to be in these places.

If we don't care about it, however, it will show … and who wants to spend time with anything that doesn't interest us? Who cares if it's the hot thing in the market? We have enough things of little interest to us in regular life, in my opinion.

One last angle to discover today, which could turn my above notion on its ear. I could write a cozy mystery series or an urban fantasy that involves a secretary … but I don't like being a secretary, and the reader would feel that. But if I chose, I could start a story with a secretary and then let her adventure move into something that does interest me. Something exciting to me. I could vicariously live through my character. This would be writing what a know in a sense that it allows me to turn my disinterest into an engaging dream.

We know more than we think we do, and writing shows this to us. It helps us to discover just what we know about something--when we didn't know we knew--and what we think about it. Mostly, I think, it comes as a beautiful surprise.

Hugs, C

Bookkeeping

2006-02-11T12:57:00.000-05:00

I'm in a 12-week bookkeeping class. My husband and I own our own business, and I do the books. Scary. Not quite the books I'd always imagined myself doing. :-) Anyway, I have learned something completely invaluable that I want to share with you. Yes, something from accounting applies to our kind of books and the writing of our stories.

Our instructor told us one of the best things to remember in accounting is ... drum roll ... Do what you know first. Then the other side of the equation will fall into place.

Is that not what we've been discussing here for a few days? Does it not apply to writing? Write what you know first. Then what we don't know will fall into place. Maybe not as we imagined, but something we did not know will be revealed. Because we wrote what we did know, and got deep enough that something we didn't know floated up and perhaps surprised us.

It's so simple. Write what we know first. That's why those little things floating through our imaginations may not make sense, but they are there for a reason. They are there to lead us, like something magical, to take us to the heart of the wood but only if we commit to the journey.

Has any one simple thing you saw or heard made you have a great realization about writing?

Stacie, a delightful young lady who has visited this blog, posted a comment about these wonderful song lyrics by Natasha Bedingfield. Does this writer hit it on the head or what? Thanks, Stacie.

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Hugs, C

Paint by Numbers

2006-02-10T18:04:00.000-05:00

I still have to upload the day's scribbles and bits from my Alphasmart, which I love, love, love. The Alphasmart is as small and light as a dinner plate. There are no distractions with bells and whistles. It's straight text and only text. At least with the NEO version I chose.

Anyway, it's starting to feel as though I am writing only clips of scenes. Not just out of order, but the most minimal scrap of scene. Like, here are scenes from next week's show ... clip, clip, clip. They are all important little pieces, though, that leap-frog me from my protag's opening to the moment he leaves his world. It's like figuring out how to draw the paint-by-numbers picture before I can color it.

I've never written like this. I've written bare dialogue as the first draft of a scene, but not in extremely short clips and not leaving these scenes behind, unfleshed, for another scene. Maybe it's because I've had this story on my mind for so long. Maybe it's because there are many layers in the set up. Maybe it's something smarter than me--blind instinct--saying, don't bother filling in these scenes until you know how they're pieced together. Here's the heart. It's enough. Sketch it first. Flesh it out later.

Whatever it is, it is working. The story is moving forward, I am making progress.

I'll be interested to see if this process continues once my protag leaves his world. I have the suspicion that this might only be happening for the story set up. Once the first threshold is crossed, that's where this story becomes a complete mystery to me. Between that first threshold and the black moment, I have only a few visions of what might be ahead and high/low points. Less jockeying and more discovering. I really can't wait to see what comes up.

Perhaps different parts of a book have different processes. That will definitely be interesting to see.

Have you noticed you work differently in different parts of your stories?

Hugs, C

Out of Order

2006-02-09T18:43:00.000-05:00

I've been getting frustrated in the last week that I would never get passed the first few pages of my book. There were a couple of things that I still, despite all of my brainstorming, did not understand. But it was stuff I had to understand in order to move on.

See, the opening of my story takes place in a different world. And the events that happen here in the beginning drive the whole book. And there is a lot of backstory ... which I am not starting with but need to understand for the fever-pitch moment in the beginning to work. My characters in their personalities were ready. They were there emotionally. But I couldn't seem to bridge from my opening scene to the few scenes that I saw driving to the inciting incident.

Was I starting in the wrong place? At that point, I decided to not worry about writing in chronological order. I saw snippets of scenes from the past in my head, from before the start of the story, and I figured I should stop forcing time. These scenes were here, ready ... I should go for it. Maybe they had something to tell me. I could get to know my characters a little better as younger people and maybe move beyond some stuff that was tripping me up. I knew these were scenes that would probably never make it to the book, but what did it matter? I would be able to write the later scenes with authority and it would show. Lo and behold, these quick 10-minute writes opened up some great stuff for me. Things that I know my characters will think back to in the story. Yippee!

But then another day past, yesterday, and I felt stalled again. I wondered again if I wasn't starting in the right place. I LOVED my opening, but I knew I would have to "kill my darling" if need be. But I didn't want to be hasty ... stopping and starting again. We know I cannot continue to do that. And I had some luck with writing the past scenes, but I did not want to forever write in circles (so dramatic ... it wasn't quite forever). A very dear writing friend of mine, Jennifer Elbaum, knows how much elbow grease I've put into creating this world. I wrote her in a whine (and hoping she would tell me otherwise), "maybe I should just forget the other world and figure out how to make it all happen in this world." She wrote me back: Stick with the other world thing a bit longer. It's still new to you so it makes sense that you're struggling with it.

Thank goodness for our writer friends. This moring in the cafe I sat and stared for a few minutes. Wrote a sentence. Stared, and then saw it. The bridge to the next scene, which was so obvious I was almost embarassed. I wrote a scene in the morning, and another scene at lunch. It's raw bone, but the foundation was there. It flowed. I nearly floated all day.

Still, despite all this great stuff, the ONE BIG thing was still eluding me. But I took the pressure off myself because I had done good. Maybe that was the trick. Driving home, it suddenly hit me. Like a thunderbolt, and it all fell into place. My instincts all along were telling me it had to do with something else than what I was trying to drive at, but I didn't know how to make it work. Then all of a sudden, it was like a knot coming undone.

So, two things that helped me in the last few days. (1) writing out of order. Writing whatever snippets were in my head, not worrying about where they would fall into place. Diving into them instead of continuing to throw up barriers against these seemingly useless pools of information. Taking what I was offered. (2) I whined to someone who could see things more clearly than I could in my chaos. There is always great advice waiting there.

Thanks, Jen, for making me hang on the one more day. I think you knew, didn't you?

Does anyone else write scenes they know might not take place to learn things? Or do you sometimes write scenes out of order?

Hugs, C

Plot Plot Fizz Fizz

2006-02-08T18:01:00.000-05:00

So if you've read my previous posts, you've got the idea that I've written nearly 3 manuscripts that went nowhere for me. However, this was not in vain. The first manuscript--60 pages of it--told me I was not yet ready to dive into a book. I could feel that I was not ready to commit to the work. I needed more time to rest and read and refill the creative well.

On a side note, my reading interests had long been changing. No longer under contract, I was curious what my natural writing inclination might be. (I freewrote a lot but writing short stories had not quite clicked for me yet. Even more interesting, my shorts are very different from my long work, I've discovered.)

So after the much-needed rest, I accepted the Nanowrimo challenge. With very little idea of what would land on the page, I wrote 50,000 words of God-knows-what in a month. I kept starting different stories that I did not finish. But the challenge did its job. Every story that I wrote had some element of the fantastical. It showed me where my inclinations were heading. Right in line with my reading preferences. Also, I have two particular stories from that exercise with which I want to do something. The character from one is always on my shoulder. The idea of the other story intrigues me, and I'd like to explore it. At some point.

So now I had a little more courage. This was where I picked up a project that I'd started the year before and began to write it over. Once again, I did no preplanning, no outlining (using only the blind instinct I spoke of in yesterday's post). I didn't even know how to plan a book beyond some basics.

This was where my post from yesterday came in. Plot terrified me, but I had to learn it. Once you learn how to do something, it's not as scary I reminded myself. But, for some reason, I did not believe I was clever enough. After all, it takes such cleverness to plot a book! Alas one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite writers, Alice Hoffman: "No one knows how to write a novel until it's been written." OK, so I could feel my way around.

The above projects narrowed me down to a few elements that I knew I wanted to pursue in my story. The story I was determined to commit to and test its soundness BEFORE I started writing it. Things might change and probably would, but I needed to know that my foundation was solid. I did not want to build a house of cards. But how to test its soundness? (Aside: the amazing short story class I took in 2005 also helped greatly with this; I'll write about that in another post.) How to take these ideas and thoughts to the extent to which I needed?

I needed an expert, a teacher, a mentor. Over the years, I have bought so many books--fiction, writing books--half of which I have not read. But I get to them eventually, when the time is right, and the time had come for two I had bought years before at the New Jersey Romance Writers conference. This was the first step in my beginning to really, sincerely understand and appreciate plot:

Writing the Breakout Novel and the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook by Donald Maass.

I had read Writing the Breakout once before, had even been to his workshop, but I hadn't been ready for it. This time I was hungry; I absorbed and learned. Conflict, tension, stakes, public stakes, ultimate stakes ... I've learned that the best question to ask myself at every juncture is ... why does it matter?

You can't learn everything from a book, but some landmarks along an unknown road sure do not hurt.

This is the first in probably a few posts about my new hot-and-heavy relationship with plotting and planning. Also when to know you might be spending too much time with your new love and need to begin the writing. :-)

What has helped you with plotting? Or does it come naturally?

Hugs, C

PS - are these posts too long? Should I break them up for quicker, easier reading?

Paying Attention

2006-02-07T18:43:00.000-05:00

In November, I gave myself permission to be patient with myself. Since the last time I wrote a book by myself was 11 years ago, there was no way I could know my own process anymore. If I even knew it in the first place, which I don't think I did. I was working on blind instinct, which was just fine for that time. But I knew I could not begin a new writing career--build it to what I hope it to be--writing only on blind instinct.

Blind instinct to me is the subconscious that produces all of the yummies and surprises in a stories. The real jewel that make you say, "wow, how did I come up with that?" The thing that lead us to the places that make us nervous, excited. The thing that sticks in a reader's mind long after a book is closed. The thing that knows better than we do. I WANT that. Always.

But I had also come to understand that I needed something more than just subconscious, more than even my craft. I had to know myself. How I work. How to best get out of myself what I want and need. I had to be observant of how I worked naturally ... like watching how water flows over rocks and around bends without having to be told how to get downstream.

Two concrete things I did know in November: (1) I was stronger at characterization than I was at plot. (2) I could not start and stop another book. My confidence would suffer worse than ever.
So how to guarantee I would not get halfway through the book and have no plot?

(1) There was no guarantee. In paying attention to my thoughts and impulses, I realized that this was something I craved. First thing I had to do was surrender my need to control the situation. There was no guarantee other than doing the best I could. There was no guarantee that the best-I-could would sell. I had to let go that I cannot control the publishing world. All I have is me and being true and present with my art. This was something I needed to accept for a very long time.

(2) In order to consistently write in the first place, I had to pay attention to the my daily routine. When was I most fresh? Most creative? Most disciplined? I reminded myself that I am more disciplined in the morning than at night. At that point I was running in the morning. I love to run. It keeps me invigorated and strong. But it is not the thing that will make me most satisfied in my life. So running become after-work activity, which is a great way for me to get re-energized for the evening, clearing the fog and smoothing the jangles from the work day. Then I set my alarm for an hour earlier in the morning. Since November, I've been getting up at 5:30 a.m. and am at the cafe in my office building by 7:00 a.m. with coffee and oatmeal. One hour of nothing to do but write, brainstorm, outline. Then one-half hour lunch for more of the same. By the time I get home at night, I have one-hour and a half of writing under my belt. Right after work is the time of day when I am least motivated.

Aside from weekends, I have brainstormed, outlined, and researched my new story all in this time. I'm also less snappish to my husband at night and do not feel the weight of the whole day dragging me down with the guilt and burden that I have not yet written.

That is how it is for me. For now. It is not for everybody. Everyone has their own process, their own way of making their creative water flow. This process may not work for me next week or for the next story. But it is working now, and I am running with it.

We are ever-changing creatures, and we need to continually pay attention to our rhythms and thoughts. This presence will keep us working, keep us consistent, and keep us creating our dreams as we see them, day after day, week after week. It will help us over those intimidating rocks and around those windy bends.

What have you noticed about your process in your everyday life?

Tomorrow I'll talk about how I am working through my weakness: plot.

Hugs, C

Call to Adventure

2006-02-06T18:29:00.000-05:00

In the vein of Joseph Campbell's The Hero's Journey and Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey, I would say that publicly announcing that I will write and finish this book is my Crossing the First Threshold in my own new writing journey. There is no going back. I have accepted the Call to Adventure after much Refusal of the Call. I cannot hide. Everyone knows that I said it. I have raised my own stakes.

I believe it is important to raise your own stakes. To step into the space that makes us uncomfortable and to continue to reach past that into even more uncomfortable territory.

For example, here I've shouted from the rooftops, like that movie about country songwriters with River Phoenix and Samantha Mathis, that "I'm not leaving!" I'm doing this, I've shot my stake and banner into the ground for everyone to see. (Luckily I don't have to live in a motel to do it.)

Another example, I have never written a fantasy. I have read urban fantasies and love them to pieces. For the past two years, I seemed to want to write some of the fantastic into our everyday world. But what did I know about it? It wasn't what I was trained to write. What I had been working my butt off for and making contacts and doing all the right things in the romance world.

This was a world where I knew no one personally. I had no experience. I had no ... nothing.

I was scared. But the ideas and the images kept coming. I had to build the courage to accept them and believe that I have what it takes to carry off by hand what I see in my mind. Many artists--maybe all of them!--have said, it never quite comes out how I saw it. I guess it really can't. Like a book turned into a movie, there is probably no way every image, snippet of dialogue, all the little essences that take our breath away can fit between the covers ... or even make sense. We "feel" it, we "know" it, but it may not ultimately make it/stay on the page.

So back to fantasy ... what did I know? How could I write this stuff I knew nothing about?

I wrote 60 pages of my first idea, The Disappearing Man. I stopped. It was an interesting idea about a man with a secret past coming home and not knowing it had been his home, but it was lacking something--mainly interest from me. I worked on short stories for a year. Then I tried to resuscitate something I had started a while back about a girl-witch, but then realized I didn't have enough passion for witches to commit to a book. Another six months and I tried to work that story into something else--still fantastical but not witches. Then I had realized why I didn't want to write about witches. I didn't want to write about an order that already existed with so many rules. In a way, it might have been less complicated to pick a particular group of witches, study them, and set the story around them. But I tend to be complicated.

I wanted to write about something fantastical that I could make up. I have also learned since then that many, many, many things have already been made up. The adage is true about nothing new under the sun. But not to despair, I told myself! There is also truth in the other adage that "I" haven't told this story yet. Every person--if they let themselves loose--can have their own view, their own new and fresh way to tell a story. That is what is exciting to me. New, fresh, different.

Like I said above, those little visions and realizations--whether mine of someone else's--that take my breath away. That's why I read. It's certainly why I write.

While you have to forgive me for all of the breath references so far, it's true. So I here I stand, just over the first threshold ... and I want to take my own breath away ... and yours too. I have to believe that I can.

Hugs, C

Evening

2006-02-06T10:29:00.000-05:00

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by my blog to wish me a warm welcome. I am excited to share our writing processes with each other.

Just an update, during the week, I will most likely post in the evening after I arrive home from work. I really look forward to talking about writing with you. I can't think of a better way to transition from the work day to the writing night.

As an aside, I love the word evening. It makes me think of deepening purple skies as the day mellows into something softer, more infinite. Of course, rather than driving on the interstates, I'd love to spend my evening on a vine-draped veranda with spiked lemonade and the Tarelton Twins in the wings, waiting to beg me to go to a barbecue.

Don't you love fiction?

More later! Hugs.

Starting Again

2006-02-05T10:07:00.000-05:00

I was a multi-published, award-winning romance writer. I had 10 years into learning my craft, the industry, writing, polishing, making forever friends in the romance circles. The romance circles are the most supportive and heartfelt places to be as a writer. Romance writers believe in love and are not ashamed to sigh and want their writing friends to succeed as much as they want to themselves. There is openness and sharing.

My writing partner, Beth Ciotta, and I, writing as CB Scott (http://www.bethciotta.com/cbscott.htm), grew in leaps and bounds writing together for some of those years. But we grew and leaped in naturally different directions. Not juxtaposed directions, but with art, even the slightest variance is a whole wide world of difference, and we needed to explore our own paths. Beth is a sensational, talented, dedicated author. Over the past two years since we began our own adventures, she has taken the world by storm. As I knew she would. As her friend and fellow romance author, I sighed and wanted it all for her. She deserves it.

But I didn't know what I wanted for myself. I wanted to write. I wanted to disappear into the words and the worlds. But I no longer knew how to do it. After 10 years, I felt like I was starting over again. The only bonus was I got to keep the craft. All that I had learned thus far on craft got to go home with me.

And home I have sat for over two years. Left drifting without a sail, I didn't even know what shores to try to paddle to. So I floated. Wrote and sold a short here and there. Finished up some other business that was already started. Read. Started, stopped, finished, tossed 3 books. Questioned my ability, my dedication, my dreams.

But that sail was only tangled. It wasn't torn or forever broken. By simply staying with the craft, dabbling in whatever held my interest long enough, and paying attention to the consistent themes and characters that appeared in those stalled/tossed manuscripts, I am finally standing on the threshold of starting over.

I am starting a new book, and I will finish it. I have brainstormed and outlined for months. I am going to do it.

Why did it take so long? This question and other writing experiences will be the focus of my blog. Because like the characters in our stories, we too are on a journey, and we do not have all of the information as we go. We can only have courage and faith.

Thank you to my dear friend, Beth, for suggesting I start a blog. May this be a place where we understand what it means to be a writer ... and know that it is a place like those romance cirlces that I miss. Safe, supportive, and not afraid to sigh.

Cyndi