Huckleberry
Dismal-looking skies and I'm at my desk again working on my WW column. I'm writing about style and language--one of my favorite subjects since language is my homeland and was searching for examples of great writing. And came up with the opening of chapter 19 in Huckleberry Finn--which according to Harald Bloom is "The most beautiful prose paragraph yet written by any American." I swear the writing is so gorgeous and evocative you'll feel like you're drifting along.
TWO or three days and nights went by; I reckon I might say they swum by, they slid along so quiet and smooth and lovely. Here is the way we put in the time. It was a monstrous big river down there—sometimes a mile and a half wide; we run nights, and laid up and hid daytimes; soon as night was most gone we stopped navigating and tied up—nearly always in the dead water under a towhead; and then cut young cottonwoods and willows, and hid the raft with them. Then we set out the lines. Next we slid into the river and had a swim, so as to freshen up and cool off; then we set down on the sandy bottom where the water was about knee deep, and watched the come. Not a sound anywheres—perfectly still—just like the whole world was asleep, only sometimes the bullfrogs a-cluttering, maybe. The first thing to see, looking away over the water, was a kind of dull line—that was the woods on t'other side; you couldn't make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more paleness spreading around; then the river softened up away off, and warn't black any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots drifting along ever so far away—trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks—rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled up voices, it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by and by you could see a streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there's a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak look that way; and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a log-cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t'other side of the river, being a woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh and sweet to smell on account of the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they've left dead fish laying around, gars and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next you've got the full day, and smiling in the sun, and the song-birds just going it!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Mist-colored skies and the tall firs across the street are swaying like crazy in the wind. I'm bushwhacking through the first draft of my column that I write every month for Willamette Writers. It's about using precise language, so wanted to dump in the quote I'm opening with and wished I'd have said this:
The road to hell is paved with adverbs. Stephen King
The road to hell is paved with adverbs. Stephen King
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Writing as Practice
Blue skies this morning and spring-like weather continues here and yesterday I was out walking in a park perched on a ridge overlooking the Willamette River. I walked through a grove of tallDouglas first and they were still as sentries, while faraway sounds of traffic drifted toward me. The park was dotted with parents and pink-cheeked toddlers and babies, and a group of young men who arrived on bicycles, then sat around a picnic table. One of the boys had a penetrating, jackhammer laugh that kept erupting. As I walked farther to the west I could see that the current was still running fast—the Willamette flows north as does the Deschutes in the southern part of the state. So I was thinking too about rivers that run north, as if they’re defying some ancient law and I walked past a blooming daphne bush that was spreading its perfume, past a Dalmation and a Black Lab and an old man with osteoporosis wearing new shoes that practically sparkled.
Last week a woman who reads this blog asked me comment here about how I keep writing and how I bounce back from setbacks. I bounce back by walking and seeing the world through the eyes of a writer. I bounce back by learning from my mistakes and trying out another idea. I bounce back because I cannot not write.
Not all my books or articles have sold, or all my plans borne fruit.As I was walking along I was thinking about this and some of the mistakes I’ve made in my writing career, the disappointments and heartbreaks—and I’ve had my share. But what sustains me and gets me through the dark times and keeps me glued to my desk chair is a writing practice. I devote myself to writing more than I do anything else in my life. I write when I’m ill, I write when I’m sad, I write when I’m lonely, happy, frustrated, and through all the moods that sift through my days. Writing is my Zen, my solace, my compass.
Because I believe that writing is our prayer to humanity. It’s about finding the human truth in all experiences and sorrows so that we can translate them to the page. It’s about adopting a mindset that everything is about writing, everything brings inspiration, everything can be channeled or become fuel for writing projects. It’s about navigating our days with focus and gratitude. It’s about immersion and belief and surrender and devotion. It’s about constancy—that beautiful, old-fashioned word that has such power for writers.
I moved to Portland in 1991 and when I arrived could not find a job, or at least job I could tolerate. I’d begun a second career as a freelance writer and worked in public relations previously and never had problems finding work before. But jobs and freelance gigs were scarce and the 300 or so applicants I was usually up against had more experience than I did. So I started cobbling together a bunch of part-time jobs and scraping together a living. I worked in a hotel dining room and for caterers, I made sandwiches in a delicatessen, cleaned houses, taught cooking classes, and started teaching writing classes at a community college. None of these gigs were especially-well paid and I often worried about money. However, I discovered I loved teaching and this led to the books I’ve written and a life among writers.
Before I moved to Portland I was married, a mother, and a homeowner. But I found myself with a whole new identity and was single, struggling, and living in an attic apartment, my daughter living back in the Midwest and starting college. The apartment was atop a large, old charming house, but the problem was I didn’t have a private entrance to my apartment. So I was forced to tramp through the first two floors of the owner’s house—nice people, but I didn’t really know them well and skulking through their house always made me feel like a burglar—before I reached my garret. And it was a garret—in the arty, Parisian sense of the word perched in the treetops and loaded with charm and slanting ceilings, and a fabulous alcove for my old desk and bookcases.
I was tired all the time, stressed much of the time, but there came a day when I realized that I needed to buckle into a writing routine even though I was working three jobs to scrape by. So I started getting up every morning at about 5 and began tapping out a novel before I went off to my various jobs.
I buckled into the routine because I didn’t have good writing habits, but mostly because I was afraid to write and needed to face down the fear. I spent about a year working on the book and I learned a lot about myself and fiction and perseverance. It was a suspense story and it was about a writer who had recently moved to Portland (surprise!) and about how a woman who had ripped her off (based on a woman who had ripped me off) was found murdered and the protagonist was a suspect. And because I also disliked this woman’s sister in real life, I murdered her too later in the story. (Trust me, murder on the page is cathartic).
I finished it and since have always strongly believed that “the end” are the best words in a writer’s repertoire. Then I started sending it out to agents and editors I didn’t know since I had no contacts at the time. They all rejected me but some of them kindly wrote one or two-page letters telling me that I had a lot of promise and if I kept at it, they’d be able to publish my work.
This might not sound like a happy ending, but it was. Since I spent those hours in my garret typing away, I’ve stopped being afraid of writing. Now that’s not to say I don’t feel anxiety, or find myself rewriting a lot or making mistakes. But something huge shifted inside of me back then, and it all started in those early morning hours, under that slanting roof with rain pattering against the window, a cup of tea nearby, and me finding my way through a story.
More to come.
Blue skies this morning and spring-like weather continues here and yesterday I was out walking in a park perched on a ridge overlooking the Willamette River. I walked through a grove of tall
Last week a woman who reads this blog asked me comment here about how I keep writing and how I bounce back from setbacks. I bounce back by walking and seeing the world through the eyes of a writer. I bounce back by learning from my mistakes and trying out another idea. I bounce back because I cannot not write.
Not all my books or articles have sold, or all my plans borne fruit.As I was walking along I was thinking about this and some of the mistakes I’ve made in my writing career, the disappointments and heartbreaks—and I’ve had my share. But what sustains me and gets me through the dark times and keeps me glued to my desk chair is a writing practice. I devote myself to writing more than I do anything else in my life. I write when I’m ill, I write when I’m sad, I write when I’m lonely, happy, frustrated, and through all the moods that sift through my days. Writing is my Zen, my solace, my compass.
Because I believe that writing is our prayer to humanity. It’s about finding the human truth in all experiences and sorrows so that we can translate them to the page. It’s about adopting a mindset that everything is about writing, everything brings inspiration, everything can be channeled or become fuel for writing projects. It’s about navigating our days with focus and gratitude. It’s about immersion and belief and surrender and devotion. It’s about constancy—that beautiful, old-fashioned word that has such power for writers.
I moved to Portland in 1991 and when I arrived could not find a job, or at least job I could tolerate. I’d begun a second career as a freelance writer and worked in public relations previously and never had problems finding work before. But jobs and freelance gigs were scarce and the 300 or so applicants I was usually up against had more experience than I did. So I started cobbling together a bunch of part-time jobs and scraping together a living. I worked in a hotel dining room and for caterers, I made sandwiches in a delicatessen, cleaned houses, taught cooking classes, and started teaching writing classes at a community college. None of these gigs were especially-well paid and I often worried about money. However, I discovered I loved teaching and this led to the books I’ve written and a life among writers.
Before I moved to Portland I was married, a mother, and a homeowner. But I found myself with a whole new identity and was single, struggling, and living in an attic apartment, my daughter living back in the Midwest and starting college. The apartment was atop a large, old charming house, but the problem was I didn’t have a private entrance to my apartment. So I was forced to tramp through the first two floors of the owner’s house—nice people, but I didn’t really know them well and skulking through their house always made me feel like a burglar—before I reached my garret. And it was a garret—in the arty, Parisian sense of the word perched in the treetops and loaded with charm and slanting ceilings, and a fabulous alcove for my old desk and bookcases.
I was tired all the time, stressed much of the time, but there came a day when I realized that I needed to buckle into a writing routine even though I was working three jobs to scrape by. So I started getting up every morning at about 5 and began tapping out a novel before I went off to my various jobs.
I buckled into the routine because I didn’t have good writing habits, but mostly because I was afraid to write and needed to face down the fear. I spent about a year working on the book and I learned a lot about myself and fiction and perseverance. It was a suspense story and it was about a writer who had recently moved to Portland (surprise!) and about how a woman who had ripped her off (based on a woman who had ripped me off) was found murdered and the protagonist was a suspect. And because I also disliked this woman’s sister in real life, I murdered her too later in the story. (Trust me, murder on the page is cathartic).
I finished it and since have always strongly believed that “the end” are the best words in a writer’s repertoire. Then I started sending it out to agents and editors I didn’t know since I had no contacts at the time. They all rejected me but some of them kindly wrote one or two-page letters telling me that I had a lot of promise and if I kept at it, they’d be able to publish my work.
This might not sound like a happy ending, but it was. Since I spent those hours in my garret typing away, I’ve stopped being afraid of writing. Now that’s not to say I don’t feel anxiety, or find myself rewriting a lot or making mistakes. But something huge shifted inside of me back then, and it all started in those early morning hours, under that slanting roof with rain pattering against the window, a cup of tea nearby, and me finding my way through a story.
More to come.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Just got in from a short walk and returning a video (Notes on a Scandal--if you haven't seen it, it's a gem) and the skies are turning a dusky, indescribable shade that makes me wonder what the sky looks like south of the equator. But despite yesterday's torrential rains and the fact that lately I've adopted a weird schedule of writing after midnight, and despite hanging out with friends yesterday and watching two movies, most of a playoff game, and eating a lot of amazing food, I managed to finally turn my proposal into my agent. I'll keep you posted about it and will now start crafting more substantial posts here....Or at least that's the plan.
Meanwhile, I was talking to some writers last Wednesday and someone asked me about the state of the publishing industry. I'm no expert, but managed to throw out a few points about returns and downturns and downsizing and mega conglomerates.....and no one looked glassy-eyed. But then it was really warm in the room and maybe they were too busy sweating. So with a much better view from the front lines of the publishing world, here's a guest post written by Moonrat an editor writing at whatwomenwrite.
And isn't it interesting that all the woman in the photo at the top of this blog are essentially wearing the same outfit? Keep writing, just keep at it. Even when your head hurts.
Meanwhile, I was talking to some writers last Wednesday and someone asked me about the state of the publishing industry. I'm no expert, but managed to throw out a few points about returns and downturns and downsizing and mega conglomerates.....and no one looked glassy-eyed. But then it was really warm in the room and maybe they were too busy sweating. So with a much better view from the front lines of the publishing world, here's a guest post written by Moonrat an editor writing at whatwomenwrite.
And isn't it interesting that all the woman in the photo at the top of this blog are essentially wearing the same outfit? Keep writing, just keep at it. Even when your head hurts.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Drizzly day here in Portland and I just spent the morning working on my proposal as well as the middle-of -the night hours. I'm emailing it to my agent tomorrow morning and am happy to report that it only needs a few more flourishes. If you're having one of those days when it seems like rewriting is endless, I hear your bark.
Here's a bit of inspiration:
"If you had never been to the world and never known what dawn was, you couldn't possibly imagine how the darkness breaks, how the mystery and color of a new day arrive." ~ John O'Donohue
Here's a bit of inspiration:
"If you had never been to the world and never known what dawn was, you couldn't possibly imagine how the darkness breaks, how the mystery and color of a new day arrive." ~ John O'Donohue
Friday, January 22, 2010
Most things in life are funny....according to Ms Brewster
Sky sort of steel colored this morning and I've got way too much to accomplish than the hours in the day. Christina, a reader of this blog, has asked me to write about facing setbacks and all the doubts, noise, and big emotions that accompany writing. I'm going to write about this in the next day or two because it's the topic of the book that I've been working on.
Meanwhile, I gave a talk in Portland a few weeks ago and since have been corresponding with a local writer Murr Brewster. I just wanted to post a link to her blog post about building a writing platform because it's hilarious. Keep at it writers, the hours and toil are worth it. Besides it keeps you off the streets.....
Sky sort of steel colored this morning and I've got way too much to accomplish than the hours in the day. Christina, a reader of this blog, has asked me to write about facing setbacks and all the doubts, noise, and big emotions that accompany writing. I'm going to write about this in the next day or two because it's the topic of the book that I've been working on.
Meanwhile, I gave a talk in Portland a few weeks ago and since have been corresponding with a local writer Murr Brewster. I just wanted to post a link to her blog post about building a writing platform because it's hilarious. Keep at it writers, the hours and toil are worth it. Besides it keeps you off the streets.....
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Still dark this morning and I'm putting the finishing touches on my book proposal.
"Phrases like oddly enough, not surprisingly, or ironically, hinder readers from discovering the oddity, lack of surprise, or irony on their own." Abraham Piper
And did I ever tell you about my journalism teacher in college, Paul Hayes? He'd won a Pulitzer while working at the Washington Post and if anyone in his class wrote a story that contained very or quite we received an F.
Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart.
"Phrases like oddly enough, not surprisingly, or ironically, hinder readers from discovering the oddity, lack of surprise, or irony on their own." Abraham Piper
And did I ever tell you about my journalism teacher in college, Paul Hayes? He'd won a Pulitzer while working at the Washington Post and if anyone in his class wrote a story that contained very or quite we received an F.
Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
"If we don't offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull. Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder. Our eyes don't lift to the horizon; our ears don't hear the sounds around us. The edge is off our experience, and we pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We wake up one day and find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days." ~Kent Nerburn, Letters to my Son
Robert Parker, 77, Dies
When I work on manuscripts I scribble all sorts of notes to the writer in the margins. Sometimes I'm commenting on language, urging the writer to use more vivid verbs or to omit qualifiers or intensifiers such as very or quite. And sometimes I remind the writer that we don't need to use 'suddenly' when something unexpected happens as in 'suddenly the doorbell rang.'
But Robert Parker died suddenly while working at his desk on Monday. He was fine at breakfast and when his wife returned from a run, he was dead. He wrote more than 60 books, most of them mysteries or crime novels and was responsible for re-invigorating this genre. His characters were complex, his style spare, his settings (mostly the Boston area) realistic, and his influence on other writers enormous.
"I first got into him when I was a student and me and my friends heard about this writer who had these really cool books about a detective in Boston. You really had to seek them out at first," author and fellow Bostonian Dennis Lehane told the Associated Press. "He taught me how to be funny on the page. He taught me how to be succinct. He taught me how to give voice to that wonderfully jaded Boston sarcasm that came out in his books. I remember telling Bob that the first chapter of my first book (A Drink Before the War) was so faux Parker he should have been suing me."
Novelist Robert Crais told AP that Parker "opened the doors for everyone who came after". "For a long time, the American detective genre was defined by the big three: Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Ross Macdonald. I would say Robert Parker is the fourth," he told the newswire.
"I read Parker's Spenser series in college," crime writer Harlan Coben said in 2007 in an interview with the Atlantic Monthly. "When it comes to detective novels, 90% of us admit he's an influence, and the rest of us lie about it."
When I work on manuscripts I scribble all sorts of notes to the writer in the margins. Sometimes I'm commenting on language, urging the writer to use more vivid verbs or to omit qualifiers or intensifiers such as very or quite. And sometimes I remind the writer that we don't need to use 'suddenly' when something unexpected happens as in 'suddenly the doorbell rang.'
But Robert Parker died suddenly while working at his desk on Monday. He was fine at breakfast and when his wife returned from a run, he was dead. He wrote more than 60 books, most of them mysteries or crime novels and was responsible for re-invigorating this genre. His characters were complex, his style spare, his settings (mostly the Boston area) realistic, and his influence on other writers enormous.
"I first got into him when I was a student and me and my friends heard about this writer who had these really cool books about a detective in Boston. You really had to seek them out at first," author and fellow Bostonian Dennis Lehane told the Associated Press. "He taught me how to be funny on the page. He taught me how to be succinct. He taught me how to give voice to that wonderfully jaded Boston sarcasm that came out in his books. I remember telling Bob that the first chapter of my first book (A Drink Before the War) was so faux Parker he should have been suing me."
Novelist Robert Crais told AP that Parker "opened the doors for everyone who came after". "For a long time, the American detective genre was defined by the big three: Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Ross Macdonald. I would say Robert Parker is the fourth," he told the newswire.
"I read Parker's Spenser series in college," crime writer Harlan Coben said in 2007 in an interview with the Atlantic Monthly. "When it comes to detective novels, 90% of us admit he's an influence, and the rest of us lie about it."
Gray skies here. Portland, OR writers I'm giving a talk tonight at 7 p.m. for Women who Write 4115 N. Mississippi Talk will be a great boost of motivation and inspiration.
Write No Matter What:
A lot of people want to write but don’t actually do it. Join us to learn practical and doable habits that put words on the page and keep ideas flowing. We'll also cover the essential pillars of a writing practice, how to recover from set backs, and how to tap into passions and concerns to fuel our stories.
Join us!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Message from Dan Newland
Yesterday there was surprising sun here, the temperatures were soft and springlike, and the coast was buffeted with thunder, lightning, and high winds. Now this storm should be hitting Portland soon.
I joined Facebook a few months ago with one of my main objectives to connect with writers around the world. During series of postings begun by author, I 'met' Dan Newland, a Midwesterner now living in Patagonia. He is now following this blog and sent this missive. I've been wanting to incorporate postings from followers, so if you have anything to say, or have suggestions for the blog, please send me a line. Meanwhile, keep writing and keep faith in your writing.
Hi Jessica.
Just dropped in to tell you that I've been reading your blog and became a follower. Found it lively and helpful. Additionally, and not very objectively, I'm afraid, I like it because it reconfirms my own philosophy about the writing life. Mainly that I can't help being a writer and wouldn't even if I could.
I've made my living "by the word" in one way or another for the past 36 years, as both an international journalist and translator, and still the question burns: Have I gone far enough in becoming the writer I've always promised myself I'd be? The response is always "no" and that response is precisely what keeps me writing, keeps me reinventing myself and keeps me, well, alive.
I turned 60 in December, spent a week being depressed, then, tough ol' bird that I I am, decided it wasn't the end of anything but a new beginning. I'm now rearranging all of what I call "work for hire" (making a living), have resigned my post as chairman of the ethics committee for an international translators association, reassessed and reordered my work schedule and have set to the joyful task of finishing two non-fiction books I have been working on in fits and starts over the past five years. And when they are done, I have promised myself that I'll go back and once again take up a fiction trilogy I began 15 years ago and eventually abandoned after failing to find a publisher (or agent) for the first book. (I'm now convinced that my remote location and lack of contacts in the world of American fiction - despite knowing my way around other segments of publishing - were more responsible for this than anything else).
In short, I just wanted to say that, the stimulating exchanges that you and I have had after our meeting through Paul Toth have played no little role in reminding me of why I write and why I should.
I look forward to continuing this kind of intelligent and stimulating dialog with you in the future.
Best always
Dan
Sunday, January 17, 2010
From author Hallie Ephron add to the list (of bestsellers that were rejected) THE GINGER MAN. MAUS. SONS AND LOVERS. And one of my favorites, THE KON TIKI EXPEDITION by a young reader, working at the publishing house, Wallace Stegner.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Take Heart: Best-Selling Books Repeatedly Rejected by Publishers (Many Twenty or More Times)
- Dubliners by James Joyce
- M*A*S*H by Richard Hooker
- Carrie by Stephen King
- Dune by Frank Herbert
- The Peter Principle by Laurence Peter
- The Postman Always Rings Twice by James Cain
- Lord of the Flies by William Golding
- Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling
- Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig
- A Time to Kill by John Grisham
- Lust for Life, Irving Stone
- A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
- Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
- The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot
- The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde
- Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen
- Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach
- Lorna Doone by Richard Doddridge Blackmore
- The Good Earth by Pearl Buck
- The Naked and the Dead by Norman Mailer
Friday, January 15, 2010
Professionalism
It's the sort of day in Portland where you might consider building an ark. I want to write about something that I've been noticing and thinking about for years. It's about how at every stage of your writing career, but especially if you're unpublished and especially if you're lacking in credentials and contacts, that you need act with professionalism, grace, and common sense. So this is going to be a bit of a rant. And this rant has been stirred by a few events in my life, some decisions I'm made lately, and also paying attention to Holly Lisle's enewsletter.
Lisle is the author of 32 novels and also teaches online writing courses. Lately she's been publishing the most bizarre, incomprehensible, and rude emails she receives from readers. Then she explains her thinking/reactions to those emails. It's been funny, sad, and elucidating.
Then last week I gave a talk at the local Willamette Writers meeting. The talk went well, I sold some of my books, we all laughed with me and at me, and it was a pretty good evening. Except for a writer who sort of glommed onto me and was filled with complaints and problems of the writing life. I tried to toss out some quick suggestions for her and answered her questions in the question and answer session, and I was patient and kind, but ignored the red flags of all her complaints and sighs.
In my talks I often admit that I'm a scruffy, sometimes cranky, sometimes impatient mentor. I sometimes want to strangle writers I work with, I sometimes want to weep because I grow so weary of reading bad writing and putting up with delusional thinking. But mostly I like many parts of my life and I meet wonderful, warm, witty, talented people. So during my last week's talk, I mentioned some of the crazed or nasty emails I received lately in response to my latest book and warned the writers not to do this.
In fact don't send nasty emails to anyone in your life, but especially to people related to this industry such as myself or Holly Lisle.Even though we don't work as agents or for publishing companies. If you disagree with me, that's fine, but keep it to yourself, or start a civil dialogue. But allow room for the slight thought that we might know a bit more about the business of writing than you do.
So back to my talk--at the end of the evening I sold this needy-seeming writer a copy of my first book Writing Out the Storm and went home and drank 2 large glasses of wine. All was well, another task accomplished. Then the next morning I received a bizarre, crazed, and bitchy email from this person about how I hadn't treated her like the genius she was and she could have bought my book cheaper on amazon.com. I wrote back (big mistake) and she sent an even nastier email. Folks, just don't do this. This is a business of connections and relationships and poisoning things at any time is just foolish.
Then yesterday I sent a client a preliminary email about a partial manuscript I'd read. I informed the writer that it wasn't ready for publication, pointed out some of the major problems and explained I'd be sending more information next week. And he went ballistic and sent me a long and I mean long--6-8 single-spaced rant about how I said his writing sucked (which of course I didn't) etc. etc. It would have taken be about three hours to respond to every point in the email, something I'm not willing to to.
Don't do this either. If someone points out your writing isn't working you need to suck it up and take it like a man. You have the right to ask questions, but no one is this whole spinning planet wants to receive a looonnnnng rant. It makes you sound paranoid, delusional, petty, crazy, and unprofessional. I've screwed up several times in my career by losing my temper. I have always regretted it and I'm working on avoiding these sort of screw ups. Vent to your friends, your dog, your writer's group--not the publishing professional who just might be a good connection.
It's the sort of day in Portland where you might consider building an ark. I want to write about something that I've been noticing and thinking about for years. It's about how at every stage of your writing career, but especially if you're unpublished and especially if you're lacking in credentials and contacts, that you need act with professionalism, grace, and common sense. So this is going to be a bit of a rant. And this rant has been stirred by a few events in my life, some decisions I'm made lately, and also paying attention to Holly Lisle's enewsletter.
Lisle is the author of 32 novels and also teaches online writing courses. Lately she's been publishing the most bizarre, incomprehensible, and rude emails she receives from readers. Then she explains her thinking/reactions to those emails. It's been funny, sad, and elucidating.
Then last week I gave a talk at the local Willamette Writers meeting. The talk went well, I sold some of my books, we all laughed with me and at me, and it was a pretty good evening. Except for a writer who sort of glommed onto me and was filled with complaints and problems of the writing life. I tried to toss out some quick suggestions for her and answered her questions in the question and answer session, and I was patient and kind, but ignored the red flags of all her complaints and sighs.
In my talks I often admit that I'm a scruffy, sometimes cranky, sometimes impatient mentor. I sometimes want to strangle writers I work with, I sometimes want to weep because I grow so weary of reading bad writing and putting up with delusional thinking. But mostly I like many parts of my life and I meet wonderful, warm, witty, talented people. So during my last week's talk, I mentioned some of the crazed or nasty emails I received lately in response to my latest book and warned the writers not to do this.
In fact don't send nasty emails to anyone in your life, but especially to people related to this industry such as myself or Holly Lisle.Even though we don't work as agents or for publishing companies. If you disagree with me, that's fine, but keep it to yourself, or start a civil dialogue. But allow room for the slight thought that we might know a bit more about the business of writing than you do.
So back to my talk--at the end of the evening I sold this needy-seeming writer a copy of my first book Writing Out the Storm and went home and drank 2 large glasses of wine. All was well, another task accomplished. Then the next morning I received a bizarre, crazed, and bitchy email from this person about how I hadn't treated her like the genius she was and she could have bought my book cheaper on amazon.com. I wrote back (big mistake) and she sent an even nastier email. Folks, just don't do this. This is a business of connections and relationships and poisoning things at any time is just foolish.
Then yesterday I sent a client a preliminary email about a partial manuscript I'd read. I informed the writer that it wasn't ready for publication, pointed out some of the major problems and explained I'd be sending more information next week. And he went ballistic and sent me a long and I mean long--6-8 single-spaced rant about how I said his writing sucked (which of course I didn't) etc. etc. It would have taken be about three hours to respond to every point in the email, something I'm not willing to to.
Don't do this either. If someone points out your writing isn't working you need to suck it up and take it like a man. You have the right to ask questions, but no one is this whole spinning planet wants to receive a looonnnnng rant. It makes you sound paranoid, delusional, petty, crazy, and unprofessional. I've screwed up several times in my career by losing my temper. I have always regretted it and I'm working on avoiding these sort of screw ups. Vent to your friends, your dog, your writer's group--not the publishing professional who just might be a good connection.
Writing Prompt
Thoreau once said that the eye is the jewel of the body. With that in mind, write about a character or person with arresting, unusual eyes.Green? Pale? Catlike? Hooded? Sparkling?
What do these windows to the soul express about the person's personality, emotion, or mood? Sad? Flirty? Brooding? Lonely? Guilty?
The point of this exercise is to find fresh language to describe a person. For example, how would you describe sparkling eyes without using 'sparkling'?
The eyes have one language everywhere. George Herbert
Thoreau once said that the eye is the jewel of the body. With that in mind, write about a character or person with arresting, unusual eyes.Green? Pale? Catlike? Hooded? Sparkling?
What do these windows to the soul express about the person's personality, emotion, or mood? Sad? Flirty? Brooding? Lonely? Guilty?
The point of this exercise is to find fresh language to describe a person. For example, how would you describe sparkling eyes without using 'sparkling'?
The eyes have one language everywhere. George Herbert
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Dangerous Women
Blue is showing through the clouds this morning and radio in the background is explaining the history of Haiti. I just learned that they were the second free republic in the Western Hemisphere after the U.S. and their slave rebellion lasted twelve long years. And Jefferson would not have been able to acquire the Louisiana Purchase if it hadn't been for the Haitians. France was so busy with the revolution in Haiti that they saw this land mass in North America as a drain, so were eager to sell it. Meanwhile, I was up in the middle of the night working on my new book so have been trying not to rattle around in a daze this morning.
A few days ago I recommended Gillian Flynn's latest book Dark Places. Today I want to direct you to a thought-provoking essay she wrote at Powells.com. About four years ago I wrote a book called Bullies, Bastards, & Bitches, How to Write the Bad Guys in Fiction. I wrote the book because I wanted to urge writers to take more chances with their characters and because there simply wasn't enough information out there about villains and anti-heroes. But I especially wanted to encourage writers to create females that operated from a more realistic and potent sensibility and to create female villains. Make that scary female villains. There has always been a huge vein of untapped anger and power in women and many women are dangerous. Plain and simple. At least they have been in my life.
So Flynn's essay, I Was Not a Nice Little Girl caught my attention, especially when she begins: I was not a nice little girl. My favorite summertime hobby was stunning ants and feeding them to spiders. My preferred indoor diversion was a game called Mean Aunt Rosie, in which I pretended to be a witchy caregiver and my cousins tried to escape me. Our most basic prop was one of those pink, plastic toy phones most little girls owned in the '80s. (Pretty girls love to talk on the phone!) Alas, it was always snatched from their fingers before they could call for help. (Mwahaha) In down time, I also enjoyed watching soft-core porn on scrambled cable channels. (Boob, bottom, static, static, boob!) And if one of my dolls started getting an attitude, I'd cut off her hair.
Blue is showing through the clouds this morning and radio in the background is explaining the history of Haiti. I just learned that they were the second free republic in the Western Hemisphere after the U.S. and their slave rebellion lasted twelve long years. And Jefferson would not have been able to acquire the Louisiana Purchase if it hadn't been for the Haitians. France was so busy with the revolution in Haiti that they saw this land mass in North America as a drain, so were eager to sell it. Meanwhile, I was up in the middle of the night working on my new book so have been trying not to rattle around in a daze this morning.
A few days ago I recommended Gillian Flynn's latest book Dark Places. Today I want to direct you to a thought-provoking essay she wrote at Powells.com. About four years ago I wrote a book called Bullies, Bastards, & Bitches, How to Write the Bad Guys in Fiction. I wrote the book because I wanted to urge writers to take more chances with their characters and because there simply wasn't enough information out there about villains and anti-heroes. But I especially wanted to encourage writers to create females that operated from a more realistic and potent sensibility and to create female villains. Make that scary female villains. There has always been a huge vein of untapped anger and power in women and many women are dangerous. Plain and simple. At least they have been in my life.
So Flynn's essay, I Was Not a Nice Little Girl caught my attention, especially when she begins: I was not a nice little girl. My favorite summertime hobby was stunning ants and feeding them to spiders. My preferred indoor diversion was a game called Mean Aunt Rosie, in which I pretended to be a witchy caregiver and my cousins tried to escape me. Our most basic prop was one of those pink, plastic toy phones most little girls owned in the '80s. (Pretty girls love to talk on the phone!) Alas, it was always snatched from their fingers before they could call for help. (Mwahaha) In down time, I also enjoyed watching soft-core porn on scrambled cable channels. (Boob, bottom, static, static, boob!) And if one of my dolls started getting an attitude, I'd cut off her hair.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Announcing the 2010 Breakthrough Novel Award
Amazon.com and Penguin Group (USA) Announce the Third Annual Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Competition
Amazon.com, Inc. and Penguin Group (USA) are pleased to announce the third annual Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, the international competition seeking the next popular novel. For the first time, the competition will award two grand prizes: one for General Fiction and one for best Young Adult Fiction. The 2010 competition will also now be open to novels that have been self-published. Writers around the world are encouraged to begin preparing their manuscripts for entry into the competition, which is scheduled to launch on January 25, 2010.The contest consists of five judging phases by Amazon editors and expert reviewers, publishing professionals and Amazon.com customers. The grand prize winner chosen in each category will each receive a $15,000 publishing contract with Penguin Group (USA).
How the contest works
Between January 25 and February 7, 2009, writers with an English-language novel manuscript can submit their work at www.amazon.com/abna. Up to 10,000 total initial entries will be accepted, with up to 5,000 each in the general fiction and young adult categories.
Initial Round: Amazon editors will select 1,000 entries from each category to advance to the next round.
Quarter-Finals: Expert reviewers from Amazon will read excerpts of the 2,000 entries and narrow the pool to 500 quarter-finalists (250 in each category).
Semi-Finals: Reviewers from Publishers Weekly will then read, rate and review the full manuscripts, and 50 semi-finalists for each category will be selected. Two panels of esteemed publishing professionals will read and post their critiques of the top three manuscripts on www.amazon.com.
Finals: Penguin editors will evaluate the manuscripts of the 50 general fiction and 50 Young Adult semi-finalists, and choose three finalists for each award.
Grand Prize Winners: Amazon customers will have seven days to vote for a Grand Prize Winner in each category. The two Grand Prize Winners will be announced in Seattle on June 14, 2010. Each winner will receive a publishing contract with Penguin, which includes a $15,000 advance.
For complete terms and conditions for the 2010 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award and more information about the contest, please visit www.amazon.com/abna.
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