Macy Lovefest & Audience of the Mind

First up, I would like to publicly congratulate Macy. If you haven't read her post from yesterday , it is a must see. What you may not know about Macy yet, but you will, is that she writes clear, lucid, delicious prose wrought with sexual tension and the just-right amount of danger and menace. She is, in fact, brilliant and prolific, but more importantly she never says "but. . ." Ever. I think that's key. She accepts all feedback graciously, hones her craft, makes revisions, rewrites, attends workshops and works hard all the time, with very little complaint. She just keeps getting better and better-- and she was pretty damn good to begin with.

Buy her books. You won't be sorry-- and follow along as she enters the big, bad publishing world. We're very proud of her.

Second up, I want to publicly thank Macy. Yep, it's a Macy love fest tonight. Thanks to Macy I'm taking the Care and Feeding of the Girls in the Basement with Barbara Samuel. You may have heard me mention that once, twice or thirty-odd times. Ha! Macy was very brave yesterday and bared her scars which inspired me to do the same this morning. To bare my scars honestly I had to confess a few sins and that made me feel really weird and vulnerable this morning. To keep it simple, we'll just say that I was a reckless "wild child" and I hung out with birds of a feather. We did a lot of dumb stuff. If someone would have ever told me that I would one day choose to bare my scars and sins to a group of women that includes quite a few self-proclaimed "good girls," many of whom have said they detest/avoid drama, I wouldn't have believed you. One of my scars has to do with cliques of girls shunning me and making my life a wee bit more miserable every day for four or more years. Because of that, I generally don't trust groups of women (which is one reason my writing group is so special to me). I suppose that's a bold statement since I write "women's fiction."

It turned out great. I came home and saw lots of supportive messages with virtual {hugs}. My favorite response was from Macy. I've printed it out and I'm keeping it forever. Macy is a deep, soulful survivor with a pure, true, open, giving heart and she's been the backbone of this writing group. I'm proud that she's my friend-- and I really don't care if I'm being a total sap. Sometimes you have to thank people for all that they do and Macy is one of those people who always does a lot. She's the sort of person you can rely on, lean on, trust. And every one of us in this group knows that.

Moving on but sort of related, this week our topic at Care and Feeding of Girls in the Basement is belonging. The topic, coupled with the notion of "ideal readers" that I mentioned in a prior post reminds me of a couple different articles I read at Holly Lisle's web site in the section for writers. If you've never checked out Holly's web site, put it on your list of things to do. There's oodles and oodles of good stuff!

In an article entitled "A Little Bit of me, A little Bit of You, Our lives as Fiction Fodder" she writes about the audience of the mind. Here are a handful of excerpts--

My secret audience-in-my-head consists of Mark Twain, C. S. Lewis, my high school Advanced Biology and Honors English teachers (as they were in 1977-79, NOT as they are today), and the person I expected to be but somehow failed to become.

I didn't actually set out to speak to these five people in my books. That just sort of happened . . . but the subconscious has deep reasons for choosing the audience it creates. . .

As you sit down and give this some hard thought, you'll discover an elite band of people you're truly speaking to when you write. If you acknowledge each of these people and what you have to say to each one in your project, you'll discover several things.

First, you'll have an easier time pulling relevant incidents from your personal experiences and translating them into meaningful fiction.

Second, you'll find that you're more satisfied with the work you're producing. The instant I become wholly involved in my fiction, I become a much happier person. The most miserable writing experiences in my life have been those that carried no personal risk for me.

Third, you'll find that essentially straightforward, simple plots become complex, developing multiple story lines and erupting with characters and details that you had not planned and could not have anticipated.

Fourth, and perhaps most importantly, your fiction will matter to others to the extent that it matters to you – and by putting yourself into what you write, you will ensure that you have something to lose. When you risk yourself, you care about the outcome.

All right, so I'm borrowing quite a lot from Holly, but I love this idea and she explains it so well. Who is the audience in your mind, your elite band of readers and what do you hope to convey, express, give to them?

I'm still pondering this. I didn't want to over think it so I just jotted down the first names that came to me and I came up with a pretty lofty group -- Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Sheryl Crow, Macy O'Neal and my writing group, and the younger me, before I met my husband.

Why? Well, Jane Austen wrote sharp, witty romantic comedies in which the heroines came of age and found love. Her observations were keen. She stuck to the world that she knew. And she didn't falter or grasp at straws. She stayed true. I think of her as the one who keeps me on track. Don't lose sight of what you want to write. If you write about what you know, there will be universal truth in it. She reminds me that women's fiction matters-- it can be "classic." I want to tell her what courtship is like here and now with similarly keen observations (I have a ways to go on the latter!)

William Shakespeare -- does that need an explanation? He reminds me to stick to the form because it works, but to play within that form. He also reminds me to entertain the crowd while providing insight into human nature. I want to tell him what I've found to be true about human nature -- that he was so right-- and I want to entertain him as much as he has entertained the multitudes. ( Yep, lofty.)

Sheryl Crow . . . hmm. I've been listening to a lot of her music while I write and she reminds me to be brave, to put my soul into it, to be true to my own voice. I want to confirm her belief in happily ever afters.

Macy and my writing group remind me to accept all feedback graciously, to work my tail off, to set goals, to keep daydreaming, to not put in too much back story, to be real, to keep the pace moving without skimping on the internal conflict, to not get too far-fetched and that sometimes brevity is a good thing. They inspire me, cheer me on, keep me on track, offer fresh ideas. For them, I want to write the best draft possible and make sure I get the sexual tension right-- I also like to throw in a couple of hot sex scenes because a few of them seem to like that. Ha!

The younger me-- well, I want to tell her that love must prevail, to hang tough, that's it is going to be okay, and that I've made our dreams come true-- that yes, indeed, we're brilliant, soulful and prolific writers. I also want to make her smile.

I may, of course, revise the group tomorrow, or think of others. For now, it looks like I have my work cut out for me!

Cheers and happy writing, Alyson