Can you dig it?

When I was in sixth grade, I had a really cool teacher named Mr. D. It was the seventies and Mr. D was probably in his late twenties. He had curly dark hair and side burns. He wore flared jeans. He was laid back. Everybody hoped that they’d get Mr. D. for a teacher. I hit the jackpot.

Since it was the seventies and the fifth and sixth grades were housed in the “new addition,” we had classrooms without walls right off of the learning center and a lot of progressive teaching and learning methods were employed -- we engaged in lots of projects, cooperative learning groups, independent learning, free flowing circle discussions and so on. We spent a week in February at Atwood Park doing outdoorsy stuff and singing songs by a campfire to guitar music. I loved it. It was my favorite school year.

In the beginning of the year, after we did a genealogy project tracing our family trees, our first really cool group project was an archaeological dig. First, each group had to make up a culture with its own language. Then we had to make artifacts. Then we had to bury our artifacts in Mr. D’s back yard. Yep. He let us dig up his backyard. A week later we went back and each group dug up another group's artifacts, piecing together what the artifacts said about the made up culture. We followed all this up with a trip to the Field Museum in Chicago.

I fell in love with archaeology for awhile. That love was brushed off many years later in college when I had to choose electives to cover humanities and third world culture requirements. I took two classical civ classes and an anthropology class and seriously thought about changing my major – but archaeology was an “impractical” major and although I wasn’t a practical girl, my parents were practical parents. They didn’t go for philosophy, creative writing, or, sadly, archaeology. Alas, I graduated with a degree in marketing which I hope will finally pay off when I have to self-promote my books.

Lately, my three year old son is into dinosaurs in a big way, so archaeology has been on the brain once again which is why when Macy had a break through on her story last weekend, I wrote her the following email –

Here's something I think is really cool that I didn't know until I undertook this writing journey. Maybe you feel this way, too. You start out with an idea, and different variations on the idea come to you, and you play with the characters, and you like certain scenes you write, but you have this feeling that there's something deeper that you're supposed to do and it's all related to story structure-- so you keep playing with it, keep playing with it, digging, messing around, digging some more until you finally hit bone. You unearth the bones, brush off the dust,-- it feels exciting. You keep digging and find more bones. You start putting the bones together and you think, "Good lord, it was here all along right under my feet."

Before long you have the entire skeleton-- and you're sure that this is it, and you're pumped. Maybe you still need to find a metacarpal or two to complete it -- and, of course, you still have to glue it all together and make it shine. You still have a lot to do, but suddenly it all feels real, like you really are part of the ancient tradition of storytelling-- you are recycling the bones of human stories. And you can do it; you trust in the story. You sort of get infatuated with yourself and the process and you feel the light shining down on you and your story. It doesn't stay that way, but for that moment, however long it lasts, it feels awesome, and the excitement carries you through, and suddenly you're getting up at 5 am despite being a night owl.

Anyway, I felt that way when I found a couple chunks of bone on mine-- and that's how I felt for you when I read the additional back story on yours.

Macy wrote back—

Yes, Al, I see the bones. The excavation is finally happening. Of course, I'm sure I still need to reveal some more -- I've found the rib cage where the heart of it all is, but I'm still unearthing phalanges and other small bones.

BTW -- before I forget -- I think you've got a good blog going here for later in the week.

So here it is-- the blog in question. I love when you can just scavenge through email for your blog. However, I feel I must give a shout out to Clarissa Pinkola Estes, the author of Women Who Run With the Wolves (WWRWW). In the book, she tells the story of La Loba, an old woman who lives in a hidden place that everyone knows but few have seen.

The sole work of La Loba (Wolf Woman) is the collecting of bones. Her specialty is wolves (hence, her name). She crawls, creeps, sifts and digs through mountains, caves, dry riverbeds, soil, looking for wolf bones until she can assemble an entire skeleton. Once she has assembled the bones, she sits by the fire and thinks about what song to sing. (I've found the treadmill works for me if you don't have a fireplace-- and Macy's fire seems to actually be the shower). When she is sure, she stands over the skeleton, raises her arms over it and sings out, until it fleshes out and becomes furred, until it starts to breathe; its eyes open; its tail wags and it leaps up and runs away. As it runs, faster and faster, splashing its way into the river, the wolf transforms into a laughing woman who runs free toward the horizon. (pp.27-28)

Now, clearly a woman with a happily ever after in a great romance novel is a laughing woman, don't you think? Can you totally dig it? (groan, if you must.)

Cheers and happy writing,

Alyson

A few of my least favorite things

The topic for our Sunday Six this week was “Reasons you would throw a book you are reading against the wall." I love this topic so did not want to miss a chance to contribute although I am a few days late. I found myself nodding and laughing through the other posts on the topic as Alyson, Jacqueline and Macy nailed most of my pet peeves (check out their posts from earlier this week!). I did want to add a few of my own, though.

So, what would make me quit reading a book and throw it against the wall? Well, considering that much of the time I’m listening to the book on my iPod, I would tend to refrain from the throwing part no matter how provoked. But I am more than willing to abandon a book if it’s annoying me. And lately I seem to have become extremely hard to please. I think I’m so preoccupied with trying to understand what makes for a great book that my inner critic is on all the time, even when I’m just reading / listening for pleasure.


So without further ado, some of the things that make me switch off my iPod:


Stupid endings.

This seems like one of the cruelest reasons to quit reading, since by the time I’ve reached the stupid ending I’ve already spent the time it takes to read almost all of the book. And if the book was good enough to hold me to that point, maybe it’s churlish of me to consider the experience ruined because the ending is bad. But it’s true: a bad ending can ruin the whole book for me.
-- When there’s a sudden plot twist thrown in that really doesn’t make any sense, just because the author thought that endings should have sudden twists.
-- Likewise, when someone dies at the end, or something similarly terrible happens, because the author thought that would contribute to an emotional catharsis. I like happy endings, but I’ll be fine with a tragic ending if it makes sense. What annoys me is when a tragic ending seems to have been manufactured under the mistaken assumption that it will give the book more gravity, more literary “weight” than a happy ending.
-- When important loose ends are left dangling. Authors shouldn’t throw out baited hooks if they don’t intend to reel them in.
-- When the book doesn’t really end, but just fades away. I think of these as “indie film endings” – you know, those films where you’re expecting the next scene of the story and instead get the closing credits.


Hate at first sight.

This used to be a staple of romance fiction. You could always tell who the heroine would end up falling in love with: the guy who makes her utterly and irrationally furious when they first meet. Jacqueline mentioned how she hates it when the couple bickers all the way through, and I agree, but I especially hate it when they take a completely unwarranted dislike to each other from the first time they set eyes on each other. It’s such a cliché, and besides, how can I like or care about people who would make such ridiculous snap judgments?


The idiot plot.

I think everyone has mentioned this one. As a writer, I understand how this happens: if the characters behaved like normal people, the conflict would evaporate and the story would come to an end. So a woman who’s been shot at in an alley and whose front door shows signs of an attempted forced entry insists that nobody is out to get her and goes unconcernedly on with her life, making her vulnerable to the guys who are, in fact, trying to get her. The experienced cop overlooks the obvious clue. The defendant in a trial fails to share with their lawyer the critical piece of information that would change the verdict. The hero and heroine won’t have the conversation needed to clear up the terrible misunderstanding that is keeping them apart. Making characters into idiots, rather than finding real reasons for conflict, is just laziness.


The beautiful bitch.

I really can’t stand it when the heroine is a nasty spoiled brat, but the hero loves her anyway because she’s physically beautiful. She regularly throws hissy fits, stamping her small, shapely foot or tossing her mane of auburn hair (she almost always had red hair), but he is so captivated by the sight of her indignantly heaving but abundant bosom that he barely notices the tantrums. She’s sexy, so it doesn’t matter if she’s completely annoying. I haven’t seen much of this lately but it used to be such a staple that I carefully avoided any books where the jacket blurb referred to the heroine as “tempestuous” or “spirited”. That was almost always shorthand for “unbearably bitchy”.


No sense of story.

This is possibly the shortcoming that annoys me the most. A fiction book presents a slice from the life of the characters. I’m assuming when I pick up a book that the author is presenting a significant slice of those lives, one where something important happens, one that changes the characters forever. I’m assuming that the scenes and characters will all contribute to the story, that it will build to a climax, and that there will be some kind of resolution. Instead, especially in books with literary pretensions, I sometimes get meandering narratives, collections of seemingly random scenes with no point that never build up to anything and that end without any resolution (see “indie film endings”, above). They may be beautifully narrated, they may have eccentric characters and interesting settings, but they aren’t stories, and they aren’t going to keep me engaged.


What it comes down to is, writing a book that doesn’t commit at least one of the sins mentioned in these blogs is hard. It may be nearly impossible. So having vented, I want to take a step back and salute all those people who take on this nearly impossible task, providing me with countless hours of enjoyment. I hope I can join their ranks one day -- and that I don't commit more than, say, three or four of these sins myself!

He who shirks action does not obtain freedom; no one can gain perfection by abstaining from work - Bhagavad Gita


Aloha from Honolulu. It is a warm Saturday afternoon, and I feel I can tell you all that without the worry of nasty rebuttals. It is finally warming up on the mainland, right?

Well, like Alyson I really struggled with what to blog about today. I spent all of today cleaning my house, and it is still not done! I have to say this is probably the second messiest my house has even been in my entire life. There is not one clean surface to eat on. By “clean” I mean non-cluttered. There is stuff everywhere! Laundry waiting to be washed, laundry waiting to be folded, but now so wrinkled that no one will want to wear any of the clothes. Toys, books, mail, home-school supplies, and other odds and ends strewn from one end of the house to another. And the clock is ticking. I only have 2 hours left until the hubby is home from Maui. He is a great guy, but he does get VERY crabby if the house is a mess, and since I am the stay at home Mom, well, you can guess whose job it is to clean it. Which brings me to my blog topic today, actually......

Family Support of a Writer.

Now, I am by no means Cinderella, but I do get a little overwhelmed by the amount of work I do and the amount of help I receive. My hubby works 14 hour days - sometimes 16 or 18 when things in the military world are extra tense- so I feel very guilty asking him to pitch in. However, when I get comments like “You are on the computer again?”, “Did you spend all day writing, is that why the house is a disaster?”, I get a bit irked. Interestingly, there is a flip side to these comments. I also get “ You always talk about being a writer, why don’t you just do it?”

Oh honey, did that fork land in your temple? I am so sorry, I can’t imagine how that happened!

My problem is, and it is highly dubious that it really is a problem, I am married to a Type A super hero. The kind of guy who can diaper a baby, scour the house from top to bottom, cook a four course meal using one pot and a fork, and finish his dissertation on orbital mechanics, all in the time it takes me to drive to the grocery store to pick up the gallon of milk I forgot when I went shopping earlier that day. I, however, am not that type of person. I can barely keep track of what day it is. Knowing this, how do I convince my hubby to let the little things go, like a tidy house, and let my creativity soar? Good question.

My loving offsprings’ particular talent is interruptions. Following Macy and Alyson’s lead, I have been getting up at 5 am to start my day and write before the little ones are out of bed. 5:05 am - “Mommy why are you on the computer?” "Mommy is being a writer today, Go back to bed, please.” “Mommy I am hungry now, can I have a cookie?” “No it is 5am, you can have a cookie after lunch, please go back to bed.” “Momm-” “GET BACK IN THAT BED BEFORE I TIE YOU TO IT!!!”

Ok, I am not that crabby in the morning, maybe by 7 p.m. I can be heard yelling things of that nature. There must be a inner Mommy meter in their head that lets them know when I have risen from my bed. This is the same part of their brain that lets them know that you are on the telephone for the first time in months and all of a sudden they will die if you don’t help them find their blankie, get them a snack, or listen to the latest round of “Mommy, know what?..”

They are still pretty secure in their ego and the whole world revolves around their needs, so I can hardly blame them for that. Following the advise of my AOTP gals, I have explained to them that I want to be a writer, and I think they are getting it. They have stopped interrupting chats, and as soon as they get used to my new writing schedule they will stop interrupting the early morning writing sessions as well. I think they know how bad I want this, and they also instinctively know that I am not willing to sacrifice their childhood to get it.

In order to succeed as a writer, you have to write. Not just chat about it, read about it, and take classes and workshops about it. A writer writes. It is that simple. My plans earlier in life included just that. I was going to be a writer. I was going to live in the woods, on top of a mountain, in my log cabin with a dog. I was going to write. Now I live with 2 cats, two kids, and a man. So not in my plans! But, I would not change a thing, at least most days I wouldn’t.

To continue with my dream, I must meld my fantasy life with my real life and find a workable solution. Life is about compromises and balance. I mean this in both a physical and spiritual sense.

So, what is the answer for winning your family’s support? I guess I would suggest four things:

1. Follow the AOTP gals’ advise: Sit your family down and explain to them how bad you want to write.

2. Give your family a set plan or itinerary. If they know ahead of time what you are going to be doing and what time you will be doing it, there may not be so much resistance. “Sunday afternoons, and Tuesday evenings are Mommy’s writing hours. Please do not disturb Mommy during these times. Mommy will take care of everything before or after these times.”

3. Take the time to organize as much of the rest of your life in order to allow yourself the time to write without guilt or apprehension!

4. Well, #4 just pertains to me, but you can use it too, if you want to: End each day with a glass of good wine.

Here’s to hoping your family is supportive of your dreams and ambition! Cheers!

The Keeper Shelf

I’m sitting here thinking I have everything done for the day (well, not really, but everything that I can do right now), and then I remember: blog.

Yes, I have today’s blog. I’m typing all this in hopes that something will come to me.

……

Nope. Not yet.

…..

Still nothing.

Ok. We’ll stick with nothing.

Maybe I can't think of anything good because I've been contemplating a recent read.

A really good read. Not a flawless work by any stretch of the imagination, but a book that made me sad for it to end.

I like reading books like that – books whose endings are bittersweet. Not that I like the end of the story itself to be bittersweet, rather I like that feeling of ,“Wow, that was great. I’m so sad it’s over.”

As I prepared to go to work today, I thought about the book and considered rereading parts I loved just to prolong the experience of it.

What did I love about the book?

The heroine. She was very real. Her motivations seemed strong. She wanted something very important, but so much kept getting in her way. Her success literally meant life or death, not just for her but for those around her. She was power and strength and vulnerability and love -- all at the same time.

The suspense. I love books where the end just isn’t known until, well, the end. The last several pages of this book floored me. “No…..” I verbalized. Don’t go. You can’t leave. Stay. But the hero had to. The heroine knew it and so did I. Bummer. Big fricken’ bummer. But then, you find out he left for nothing. He thought everything was his fault, but it wasn’t. I like what the heroine said to the real bad guy, “I’m a doctor. It’s against what I believe to kill you myself. But right now I wish you were dead.” Real. Honest. And suspenseful to the last word.

Hope. The book didn’t have a true HEA, but it held out hope that it was possible. I hate books where they end with no hope. No HEA – I can deal with that, but no hope. Crash. I should have put that on my “throw list”. I keep wanting to write this author (a guy) and ask him if he’d consider writing a romance novel sequel to this suspense fiction book. The hero and the heroine are sure to get together again eventually. I’d just like to read it.

The book exceeded my expectations. I like that. It’s a keeper shelf book.

I’ll have to wait a day or two to start the next book I’ll read. I need to savor this one a bit longer.
I want to write the kinds of books people savor -- keeper shelf books. I want to read them, too.

What have you savored recently?

Macy

Unfinished novels: Alyson's Six Reasons Why

Make sure you read Macy's post on this because it's really good. I, once again, am blogging on the fly. I've never thrown a book against a wall or in the trash. However, I have boxed them up without ever having finished them. These days, I do that a lot. I read five or six books a week-- usually three or four at a time. Some of them I speed read, skimming over the lovely landscape descriptions, slowing down a bit when something catches my attention and seems worth more time. Some I read in less than an hour-- beginning, midpoint, end. Can I connect the dots? Do I even care? No? Then box it up. Some I just set down and never pick up again, except to toss them in the donated books box.

Why?

I bore easily. Really, really easily. If you bore me, I'm out of there. The rule of thumb for attracting the reader's attention is fifty pages. Hook them by page fifty. Hello? Page fifty? For me, it's about twenty pages in-- if I'm unsure I check the midpoint to see if it's picked up-- unless it's assigned reading, or I have heard from a reliable source that understands my taste to hang tough and it'll be worth it. What bores me? Lots of landscape and setting description without much action or intrigue. Lack of depth. Superficial conflict. Bullshit. Unrealistic, contrived dialogue. Stupid, boring, unrealistic or goody-two-shoes characters.Melodrama. Sap. Mediocrity. Been there, done that-- nothing fresh or new. White guys at sea unless they are pirates and there's a female character. The sea as a symbol of female consciousness doesn't count.

So my number one reason for not finishing a novel is that it bored me early on.

The second reason is that I can't relate to the characters. I can't relate and I just don't care. Their motivations strike me as silly, or stupid, or cliche, or over the top. There is no insight into the human psyche provided. No new friend to make. Nothing compelling or interesting to carry me through.

The third reason is that the novel just works too hard without ever getting anywhere-- and hence, I have to work too hard without ever getting anywhere. I've read dense and difficult novels and loved them because there was a payoff. But some novels are like those runners who pump and pump and pump and still move slower than molasses. Get a fricking bicycle, and shift it into high gear.

Number four-- tons of action for the sake of action -- car chases, sex, natural disasters, whatever. The sagging middle is propped up by faux issues that don't further the plot in a meaningful way or help the main character along his arc. This typically means the conflict wasn't good enough to carry the story so everything but the kitchen sink had to be thrown in there to make the word count.

The fifth reason is that there's no reason to finish. I figured the whole thing out by the end of act one-- or possibly the midpoint. Maybe I'll check the end to make sure I got it right. Yep, right. No need to continue reading. This one happens a lot.

Last, the book goes a different way than I expect it to, and the way it goes is (a) the boring route, (b) the highly superficial route, (c) an illogical route, or (d) the cheesy route. In other words, the way I expected it to go was so much better than the way it actually goes and I'm sure because I've sped read ahead and, wow, the author really screwed up the damn story. That's it, I'm done.

I'll add one for romance -- the romance doesn't appeal to me because it's too claustrophobic (I hate those lovers who become glued to each other or the guys that are near-stalkers), or antagonistic, or based on lust only ( you just can't see real love developing any time in the near future for the couple in question; in fact, you've known several couples like them that didn't make it so who in the hell cares . . .)

Cheers and happy writing--
Alyson

Book Throwing 101

Ever buy a book that excites you just by the cover, the back blurb, and the first page or two you read? Yeah, I thought so. Me, too. That’s why we buy them, right?

Do you ever get into that book and just forget to pick it back up and finish it? Yeah, me too. I hate that. I hate the big promise that doesn’t fulfill. I hate not wanting to finish.

Then, of course, there are those times when the book is so contrived that you actually think throwing it is a good thing. I don’t think I’ve ever really thrown a book at a wall, but have put some in the trash can. Yes, really, I have. They were books so bad that I, first, didn’t want anyone to know I’d tried to read it. And, second, I certainly didn’t want to torture anyone else. Loan it to a friend? Never!

So, what puts books squarely in the category of throwing? Well, you’ve signed up for the correct lecture series – Book Throwing 101. Let me tell you.

1. To use the words from today’s blog at Romancing the Blog: Sex by the Numbers. Author, Kimber An, says: “The Standard Issue Sex Scene … The hero is always highly skilled (regardless of experience) and selflessly concerned (even if he’s only one step up from a Neanderthal) with pleasing the heroine who is always fantastically pleased. No matter how skillfully written, I’m jarred right out of the story and I toss it over my shoulder.”

Yep, big, whole-hearted agreement. Frankly a sex scene for the sake of a sex scene doesn’t work. I don’t care how sexy you’re trying to make your book. A sex scene is only needed if the characters have no where else to go but the bed (or wall or floor or whatever) – in other words, it has to be part of the advancement of both the hero and heroine’s character arc. It has to increase the conflict. It has to have a point. Otherwise, it’s just soft porn, and I’m not interested.

2. No Real Plot. I think romance authors are often more guilty of this than other writers, well, except some literary fiction – some of which, but not all, leaves me saying, “and the point was?” And, that kind of is the point. Where’s the plot? What’s the problem and how are they solving it? Cause and effect. Stimulus – Response. If I’m going to read about a bunch of nothing except driveling thoughts and beautiful descriptions, I’m not going to get very far. CRASH. Book meet wall.

3. Inaccurate Facts. I love to read sciencey fiction. (Yes, I’m using that word. Again, deal.) However, if you’re going to write about Ebola, bioterrorism, environmental issues, human body physiology, or the like, do your research and get it right. Maybe a lot of people won’t know if you’re not. However, chances are, if someone picks up your book, they’ve selected it because sciencey fiction appeals to them, and they’ll probably know. Example: I was loving, loving, the movie A Few Good Men until the lawyers started explaining how the cadet died. Lactic Acid in the lungs. Argghhh. I walked away. Sorry that just ruined it for me.

4. Stupid Ass Heroine. Actually, horror flicks are more likely to violate this rule than books, but if your heroine is going into the cellar in the middle of the night, where 10 other people died, and she’s not taking a flashlight, and she’s barefoot in a see-through negligee, you’d better have a brilliant reason for doing it. I don’t hang out with stupid people. I’m not wasting my time reading about them.

5. Characters I Don’t Care About. Give me a reason to really love your characters. Make me think they are real people with real problems about whom I have a genuine interest. If the story is character driven, like romances, there aren’t really many other reasons to read the book. I want to meet characters I like and lose myself in their world for awhile. If that’s not happening, well, I won’t bother.

6. If I can Solve the Mystery in the First or Second Chapter. I love romantic mystery/suspense, but if I think I’ve figured it out early on, I’ll flip mid-way to check my progress and then read the last chapter. Done. If I’m not sure or I just don’t know, I’ll keep reading. Simple. Hard. Truth.

Yep, readers are intimidating. And demanding. It’s a lot to live up to. Come on, what makes you throw a book?

Macy

Rambling

So Friday is my assigned day to blog and my mind's been blank. All day. I am participating in a twelve week writer workshop but I don't want to blog about that or my new crit partners just yet because I might give the url to my new crit partners down the road, and we all know impressions change over time. They may not like it that I start out referring to them as Sci Fi Nerd, Prissy Girl and so on.

Other things on my mind? Well, I haven't cut or colored my hair all winter and I'm finally doing something about it tomorrow but who really wants to hear about my quandary over color. I'm sick of the blonde highlights which keep getting lighter and lighter over time. A little auburn perhaps? I like Kate Walsh's color . . .

Speaking of Kate Walsh ( who plays Addison on Grey's Anatomy), what in the heck is up with Grey's Anatomy? I'm totally over it. Still into Lost, however. John Locke blew up the submarine.What a dumb a#s, but then again, it keeps my beloved Jack on the island. I recently saw a Thursday Thirteen about must-see television programs. Thirteen? Wow. I watch Lost and Dancing With the Stars (early faves? The boys with the cute blondes --Fat One and the skater-- and Ali. ). I used to watch Grey's Anatomy and still catch an occasional episode -- caught the whole George sleeps with Izzie thing. Give me a break. All the rest of my thirteen would have to be kids shows, courtesy of my son's taste-- Wonder Pets, Diego, Zaboomifoo, Harry and the Dinosaurs . . .

On a completely different note, Macy's friend of the bed and dinner lists, let's call her Mimi Dish, posted an interesting blog this week which turned into a popular topic on a chick lit list serv to which I subscribe. Basically the question posed was What have you chosen NOT to read that everyone assures you that you SHOULD? Interesting answers on the chick lit list serv-- Life of Pi, anything recommended by Oprah (too depressing), erotica, anything to do with vampires, anything with too much sex and not enough plot, Memoirs of a Geisha. Mimi Dish lists a bunch of books I actually love --Russian lit, Wuthering Heights, The Awakening-- but she lists others that are on my list, too. I have lots of unfinished books, that I've tried to read a few times. More on that on Sunday for our six -- things that make you set a book down and never pick it back up again. I've never actually thrown a book, but apparently Macy has. More on that on Sunday.

I thought about jumping off from some of the responses to Mimi Dish's question to write a damning condemnation of summary dismissal of genres including lit but plenty of other bloggers have covered the topic. Let's just say that I think both literary snobbery and genre reverse-snobbery are so ridiculous. Sure, everyone is entitled to their opinion and some things just won't be your cuppa, but let's take sci fi as an example. I'm not attracted to it. When I walk into a bookstore and see a sea of books, sci fi doesn't attract me -- but if someone recommends a book, I give it a shot. Sometimes I end up enjoying the read and sometimes I don't. Sci Fi Nerd-- oops, I mean Sci Fi Guy-- has recommended a couple of titles. I'll check them out. I don't just say, " I hate sci fi and it sucks," for example. I've also added Ender's Game to my "to read" list based on things Macy has written about it.

Incidentally, I didn't initially call my new workshop friend Sci Fi Nerd simply because he likes sci fi but rather because he writes sci fi and also happens to walk, talk and act like a nerd. On purpose. It's his thing. He says, literally, "I'm a sci fi nerd." I figure who am I to argue-- the whole "if it quacks like a duck" thing. He's befriended me now cuz he thinks I'm a nerd, too. For the record, I'm not. I've always been really, really cool. I may start saying, literally, "I'm an ultra cool, edgy romance writer chick diva" just to clear things up.

Ha! This is the type of rambling blog you get when no topic -- no topic-- comes to you.

I thought about writing about goals. Recently, I've set new goals to finish my novel before the RWA conference. Others in my writing group have set similar goals. A couple have mentioned our old 10k plan -- back in the fall, we were going to write 10k a month with set deadlines and monthly crits. I've since come to the conclusion that good goals have to belong exclusively to you without the added worry of what everyone else wants, unless it's some sort of team effort. Motivation has to come from within, too. My new motto is that to become serious, you have to become serious. It really is that simple. For me.

Saturday is our very last official chat for our Girls in the Basement class. I can't say enough about the workshop. I'm sad about it ending. Thankfully, I'm swamped with the new workshop and we're going to continue on with our gmail group so I may have met another little bit of my tribe. I actually have a made up tribe now in addition to my Girls and AoTP- it includes -- oh, wait-- I'm supposed to be ultra cool.

Okay, enough rambling. This post reminds me of my old coworker Brian, who on occasion would say "I'm not going to do anything useful today. Not one thing--" and then, he wouldn't. He'd screw around all day. I have managed to write a post about nothing. Not one thing. Ah well.

Cheers and happy writing--
Alyson

p.s. this is our 69th post here at AoTP. It seems as though a romance writer should go somewhere with that . . . but I'll just let you play with it in your imagination :)

Non-romance books

It probably goes without saying, but I love to read. I love a book that draws me in and keeps me up all night. I’ve read a lot of books that I’ve just never been able to finish. However, that’s the topic for this weekend’s Sunday Six – what makes you throw a book at a wall AND leave it there.

Today, I want to blog about books and authors I’ve loved, specifically, the non-romance ones. (Gasp!)

I didn’t start reading romance until later in life. I didn’t read it consistently until my 30’s. Romance novels would never have been allowed in my mom’s house, so I wasn’t all that tempted by them.

I was a nanny to 3 boys in college. Their mom had a whole stack of Kathleen Woodiwiss books, of which I made quick work. Her books were the first romance novels I ever read. That summer was one of the few times I read for pleasure between high school and finishing graduate school. Even after grad school, new to the real world work force, I didn’t have time for a lot of leisure reading or money for a lot of books, for that matter.

However, as I settled into real adulthood, I reconnected with that passion I’d had as a youth and teen – reading.

A great many books have captivated me and captured my attention at the expense of a great deal else.

What non-romance authors held my attention through my late 20’s and early 30’s?

Michael Crichton. I’ve read every book he’s written. I have his newest one waiting in the wings for a road trip I have to take soon. What do I like about his work? Well, it’s technical and sciencey. (Yes, I made that word up. Deal.) I love science. I love it when authors write it well, getting the facts correct and presenting it in a way that’s easy for anyone to understand. I think that takes great skill.

Perusing Michael’s site, I found that he has some great advice for writers and some interesting anecdotes. Here are a few.

Where do you get your ideas for your books? I wish I knew. They just seem to come from nowhere. But often I think people put too much emphasis on the "idea" behind a story, anyway. First of all, there isn't just one idea in a story, there are lots of ideas. And second, an idea by itself isn't worth much until you do the work necessary to get it down on paper. And in the course of doing the writing, the idea often changes. It's similar to the difference between having an idea for a building, and actually constructing the building. The building often turns out differently from the original plan or intention.

How long does it take to write a book? It's difficult for me to say. Usually, an idea "cooks" in my head for a very long time before I begin to write it. During that preparation time I will make notes and do research. The actual writing can be relatively quick---four to fifteen months---but I could the preparation as part of the work. So in that way, The Great Train Robbery was 3 years. Jurassic Park was 8 years. Disclosure was 5 years. Sphere is an odd example: I started it and wrote part of it, but didn't have a good ending, so I stopped. Twenty years later, I picked it up again and finished it in about two months. So: did it take 20 years, or two months?

Check him out if you are so inclined. I’m sure dinosaurs and killer viruses are not what most of you are into, but if you decide to give his books a go, you’re in for an exciting ride.

What other authors have I profoundly loved? The incomparable J.K. Rowling. Yep, waiting eagerly for her final installment.

Who else? Anne Rice. I read her books until the darkness in them started following me. For me, she’s like Stephen King, whom I read voraciously in high school. I have to take long breaks from both their writing after awhile. It’s too dark to consume regularly.

James Patterson is phenomenal. His Alex Cross books are some of the best reads out there. Start at the beginning if you read him. They’re better that way.

Others I’ve loved include Mary Higgins Clark, Sydney Sheldon, Orson Scott Card, Robin Cook, and early Laurell K. Hamilton.

However, lately I’ve read romance much more than anything else – more than sciencey fiction, more than suspense and mystery, more than horror and fantasy.

I changed that with the last book I read – well I’m reading it, but it will be in the “read” pile soon.

On a whim, I recently purchased The Trudeau Vector by Juris Jurjevics. While I have a few POV issues to pick with him, it’s a great read. I’m sure that not everyone agrees with me that lines like, “Houston, the Beagle has landed,” spoken by the epidemiologist heroine when she lands precariously after a harrowing trip to the artic circle, are hysterically funny. However, he nails his characters. He nails his science – except one little slip up about cholinesterase, but most people wouldn’t catch it. He nails a gripping, edge-of-your-seat, sciencey tale full of espionage, killer viruses, bioterrorism, ecological mysteries, and fascinating history of the Arctic’s indigenous people.

What a great read!

Do I still love romance? Absolutely. I need HEA tales. The world is too dark without them. Will I still write romance? Of course, but as always, it will have that suspense or fantasy spin to it. However, every once in a while, I need to feed my inner geek.

Tonight, she is well-fed.

Macy

The Six: Secondary Characters

When I think of great secondary characters, the first thing that comes to mind is the Harry Potter series -- Hermione & Ron, all the Weasleys, the teachers , the ghosts at Hogwart, Dumbledore, Hagar and his animals, and so on and so forth. Truly I think the secondary characters are what make the series so phenomenal. A great story chock full of interesting and fascinating characters , each with their own story.

Others? Well, Grandma Mazur and Lulu in the Stephanie Plum series just crack me up, and there have been other interesting sidekicks along the way.

Notice I mentioned two series. I think in a series the secondary characters have more time to grow on you, develop.

But what about in romance? That's where it gets tricky, at least for me. Why? Because I get so focused on the romance, I often find the secondary characters to be a distraction. I skim their subplots so I can get back to the "good stuff." The first pair of secondary characters that I thought of that I actually enjoyed and who contributed to the story in a way I didn't find distracting was the pair of best friends that hook up after Harry and Sally try to fix them up with each other in When Harry Met Sally.

I also enjoyed the subplots in Natural Born Charmer by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. There the secondary characters who made a difference were Dean's biological parents, an ex-groupie addict and a rock star who hook up again, and Dean's younger half-sister. There is also an old battle ax named Nita who becomes Blue's adopted mom figure over time.

I'm on the fly this morning so I'm keeping it short and sweet. How about you? Any secondary characters that you can point me toward? This week and last, Mayer and Crusie are actually talking about characters and character types at their online workshop. Good stuff. Be sure to check it out.

Cheers and happy writing,
Alyson

P.S. I realize there's not six here. I set some aggressive writing goals to meet the demands of a local writer's workshop that I'm participating in and to finish my MIP by the RWA conference, so I may be in a bit of a muddle for a few weeks. Hang in there with me . . .

Sunday Six ÷ 2

Secondary characters that rock!

I love a good read. The hero and heroine have to be characters to whom I relate well. However, a book with dynamite secondary characters is a real treat because there are just more people to which I’m drawn. I want to know what happens to all of them.

One of the most memorable secondary characters I’ve read recently was Jules Cassidy in Suzanne Brockmann’s Hot Target. I’m slowly working my way through her books, so I know he shows up in more than one of them. However, in Hot Target, he is fantastic. I was every bit as interested in the scenes from his POV as I was the scenes from the hero and heroine’s POV. Jules is a gay FBI agent. He has a lot of issues to deal with in Hot Target – his mission, his ex-lover for whom he still has feelings, and the heroine’s not-quite-out-of-the-closet-yet brother for whom he’s developing feelings. Jules is handled in such a real way that you find yourself wanting to read more about him, rooting for his happiness just as much as that of the hero and heroine. Wow. Very well done.

Another secondary character I loved was Bean in Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game. Bean is Ender’s second in command in a childhood army being trained to wipe out the buggers before they wipe out humanity. Bean is the youngest soldier and the one most guided by logic. He doesn’t let emotion of any kind rule, unlike Ender whose emotions temper his logic to make him the obvious leader. Apparently, Card liked Bean a lot, too. He wrote a parallel book – Ender’s Shadow – which told the same story as Ender’s Game but completely from Bean’s POV. Talk about an interesting study in your characters. Amazing.

How about Acheron from Sherilyn Kenyon’s Dark Hunter Series? I love those books, by the way. She has created an amazing world, and at the center of it is Acheron, a mysterious god-like man who is in charge of the Dark Hunters. He has unusual powers and even his friends speculate about what he really is. It isn’t any wonder that Kenyon’s legions of devoted fans desperately want Kenyon to write Acheron’s novel. Holy hell. I’d buy it hard-cover the day it came out! I think all of her readers are in love with him. And frankly, check him out. What’s not to love?

I’ve been thinking about secondary characters all day, but frankly, these are the ones that most intrigue me. Therefore, for now, we’ll call this the Sunday Six ÷ 2!!!

I can’t wait to read what the rest of the group posts.

Macy

Glass or Steel?

Lately I have felt like a complete poser. Forgive the 80’s terminology, but that is what I feel like. I want to write, I want be a writer, but I am doing very little writing what so ever. Whine Whine! As my Hubby, the Air Force Academy grad, would say... "Wah Wah Wah...I want my milk and cookies!" This blog tonight may not be about writing at all, but there are some things I would like to talk about that may influence someone’s life out there.

As Alyson so sweetly pointed out, my daughter had surgery in Texas last week. This was not her first, nor will it be her last. It was the most invasive, and the second most important. My daughter was injured during delivery due to a failed ventouse and forceps delivery leaving her paralyzed on the left side. She has a Brachial Plexus Injury called Erb’s Palsy. The past 8 years have been a very emotional journey for all of us in our family. Our whole world revolves around Bryn’s physical therapy, occupational therapy, craniosacral therapy, water therapy, dr.’s visits...etc. It can be a bit overwhelming, but it is life. She is an amazing kid and an amazing
fighter.

I think over the past eight years I have deliberately punished myself for the guilt I feel over what happened the day she was born. The day before she came into this world, I was carrying two large boxes of water. We were living in Australia and water commonly comes in 4 liter boxes, like cheap wine here in the states. I carried the boxes of water from the market all the way back to the house. Well, it was too much and my water broke, even though I was not in labor. I will spare you the details, but I have always thought...”if only I had not carried the water, then Bryn would have stayed “inside” until full term, and then the Doctor would have.....”...bla bla bla. Somehow I thought everything would be different, if I had just changed my behavior. This belief was further complicated by an acquaintance who quoted a verse from the bible that was something along the lines of “Visiting the inequity of the Father unto the children”. Bryn was paying for my sins. I have been harboring this guilt in my heart for eight years.

When we were in Texas I met an amazing woman from Iraq. She and her husband are both Doctors and on the night her baby was born there was too much fighting outside the hospital, she could not get in and her husband could not get out. So she had to go home and deliver her baby at home with the help of the neighbors. Her baby was delivered by forceps as well. He also was left with a debilitating Erb’s Palsy. You may have heard of his story on CNN or in People Magazine. He and his mother flew to Texas and had his surgery the day before Bryn’s. While our children were recovering we spent some time together. She said the most beautiful things to Bryn. I wish I could recall every word for you, but I was so in awe of her strength and beauty that I can only paraphrase for you.

She told Bryn that she had been thinking about how to explain to her son why this had happened to him and what he was going to need to do as he grows. She told Bryn that people who are born perfectly healthy and grow up easily are like a delicate glass. When they come to face the very difficult things in life they will shatter like the glass. But that Bryn and Karm, because they will face so many difficulties and have to conquer so many hurdles in childhood they will grow to be strong and solid. When they come up against the very difficult things in life they will survive and succeed because they have learned to survive and succeed as a child.

In America many people look at children like Bryn and feel pity, sorrow or anger (at the situation). Here is a woman whose country in in civil war, who makes only $400 a month as a doctor, whose baby is permanently disabled due a series of events leading back to a war started by an outside country; and she is focused on how good this will be for her son. Just hearing her speak was so humbling to me, and liberating. Who am I to think I am so important that I should feel responsible for the the greatest life learning event for my child? There are much greater powers at work here. This is not something to crucify myself over, but something to rejoice over. It takes quite a stretch to change to this mode of thinking, but I am working on it, every hour, literally. I have always known that Bryn would be stronger for her experiences, and I try to remain ever so positive, but I never honestly viewed it as good.

So I guess the human experience, what ever that may be, is mostly good. We are all learning, and traveling through time and we should be grateful for the bumps in the road that life hands us, even the ones that seem cruel at the time. Even though I have gone off the track from writing, I hope this story brings you a little peace too.

From Carly's Wine Blog

My main character in my MIP is a love-cursed sommelier who happens to write a wine blog. Here's an excerpt from her blog--

April Wine

After a long winter, the perfect April wines are fruity, white wines that wake up your senses like a quick dip in a cool lake or a spring fling. The trick is to not be intimidated by those with funny, unfamiliar-sounding names like Prosecco, Pouilly Fumè, Viognier, Chenin Blanc, Riesling, or Gewürztraminer. There is much more to life than pretty boy chardonnays from California.

Incidentally, April Wine is not only the title of my blog today, but also the name of a Canadian hard rock band known for their power ballads. The perfect power ballad wine? Gewürztraminer. There’s that funny name again. As my colleague, Federico, said last night, making the connections, Gewürztraminer is spicy with a good, strong structure. Not too sweet. Oily. Phat. Complete with an umlaut, reminiscent of any German hair band. Queensrÿche comes to mind, a band also known for their power ballads.

Well said, Federico. Unfamiliar with the umlaut? It’s a double dot over a vowel used in German and other European languages to indicate a change in pronunciation.

Despite their German names, Alsatian Rieslings and Gewürztraminers are French and fermented much drier than their German counterparts. This means they can be consumed with a wider range of foods. For most wine drinkers, Gewürztraminer is a love-hate wine because its bold perfume, full-bodied texture and prominent spice can be too extreme for some. Try a mid-priced bottle with Thai, Cajun or Alsatian cuisine before you cross Gewürztraminers off your list.

Happy wining and dining,
Carly

P.S. Need a great gift for April Fool’s day? I have some more funny names for you-- Old Tart, Cat’s Pee on a Gooseberry Bush, Bloody Good White and Fat Bastard Chardonnay. Enjoy!

Okay, okay. I deleted her recommendations and tasting notes because I don't actually include them in the MIP but we all know any sommelier worth her salt would provide them. Plus a few segues are missing, but hey, relax, my brain is mush at the moment, I'm keeping it light and simple. Personally, I'm more of a Riesling chick except with Thai food :)

Happy wining and dining,

Alyson

Wisdom from a Contest Guru (not me)

I just finished contest submissions for the Daphne du Maurier Award sponsored by Kiss of Death (the RWA Romantic Suspense Online Group) and the Touch of Magic Contest, sponsored by CFRWA.

Talk about intense. Having moved recently, I didn’t get to work ahead of time on the submission. Well, I guess I could have, but my story has been undergoing an overhaul and I just got around to the contest stuff late.

However, the pressure to get it done really had me flying along with ideas and words and rewrites. I have always worked better under tight pressure and deadlines. I hate that, but the ideas really flow when the clock is ticking down to a deadline.

I think contests are important for a lot of reasons. Local CFRWA author and contest guru, Catherine Kean, talked to me about contests at our last CFRWA meeting. She believes that contests, more than anything, got her published. She said that having a list of wins and finals to include in her queries finally made editors sit up and take notice.

I happened to come by a copy of the handout she shared in a presentation last year. In it she listed several reasons to enter contests:
Learn the writing craft.
Learn correct manuscript formatting.
“Test” your manuscript before sending it to an editor or agent.
Get fresh opinions from writers that have never before read your work.
Learn to handle rejection.
If you final, you may be read by an agent or editor.
ü Build your writing resume.

I happen to agree with most of those. I hope I’ve learned a lot about the writing craft from my crit group and writing classes prior to entering. However, most of those other skills are best learned via the process of submitting work for review. I think contests are a nice warm up to the real process of subbing a manuscript for consideration.

Catherine told me that her publisher didn’t really deal with medievals, but that she’d won and finaled in enough contests (30) that they gave her a read anyway. The offered her a multi-book contract and she was the first book in a new line they started. Wow.

Not that I want to be a contest junkie, but it’s a place to start. Most contests want your first 15 to 25 pages. I’m looking for contests now that want other things – a love scene, a 750 word meeting, etc. I want some little snippets to put on my query letters. I want to bypass the slush pile. I want to get first choice for pitches at conferences. Most published writers say this is the way to start.

Wish me luck.

Macy

Alyson's Six : Interview with Nick

Today I’m interviewing Nick Buonamici, the hero of my MIP. First a little background. Here are Carly Lockhart’s first impressions when she meets him in her back yard. He’s helping a friend, Ewan, move into the three flat where she lives –

Her attention slowly drifted toward a tall, dark and dreamy guy in his early twenties carrying a customized wine rack across the back lawn. The wine rack was what attracted her attention, but the guy carrying it promptly stole the show. He had deeply tanned, olive-toned skin, sinewy biceps, long muscular legs and thick, espresso-colored curls that grazed his broad shoulders. Although he was totally gorgeous, she lived in a big city where she saw gorgeous guys everyday. That wasn’t what drew her in. Rather, something about him reminded her of a big, playful puppy—easy, amiable, energetic, a wee bit naughty perhaps, but adorably so. She had always loved puppies.

He caught her looking and waved. His smile was devastating. “G'day. You must be Ewan’s new neighbors. I'm Nick.”

His voice was warm, rich and buttery. Did she detect an accent? British maybe, or Australian? Worth investigating. She smiled back.

And a little later –

She gulped. Up close and personal, Nick was a lot more virile than puppy like. He had a square jaw, strong cheek bones, and a slightly hooked roman nose that looked like it had been broken more than once. His lips were impossibly full, especially his lower lip, and his saucer-sized eyes were the color of liquid dark chocolate. Oddly, something about him struck her as familiar. Had she met him before? Surely, she’d remember. Her response to him was most irregular.

Personally, he reminds me of a mix of Eric Bana, Criss Angel, Alessandro Nesta (and other hot Italian soccer players), my dear husband at age 26-30ish, and my son Dante when he grows up.

For our interview, I agreed to meet him at a small airport north of Chicago. He has a pilot license and has just flown into Chicago from an undisclosed location. Apparently, he was on a top-secret photo shoot (although I don't know why in the world it would be top secret).

My first impression when I see him again? Wow! Six feet four or five inches of steely, lean muscle and Mediterranean yumminess. He’s toting all kinds of camera equipment.

“What’s with the camera equipment?” I ask.

“I’m a photographer, as you know,” he says. “Mostly outdoor adventure stuff. Some landscapes and wildlife. Since hooking up with Carly, I also do vineyards and wineries. "

"Tell me more about that."

"Photography or the vineyards?"

I shrug. I want to see where he will go with it.

"In a nutshell, I see photography as a vehicle for seizing the day, living a life of passion, adventure, treks, exploration, and truth. Facing death changed my life in that I don't worry about marketing, money or recognition anymore. I just follow my bliss. The wine fits in because it is Carly's passion, part of her bliss, and she's part of mine."

He hands me a picture of Carly and him at a winery next to a jeep packed with camping gear and camera equipment, both looking very blissful. "A picture is worth a thousand words, no? Of course, Ewan's not the best photographer."

Long pause.

"Crikey-- probably not the perfect thing to say to a writer.”

I smile, glad that it’s working out for them. He looks so good you would never guess what he’s been through. “How is it going with Carly?”

“It’s going great,’ he says. “We recently returned from Oz—she met my dad and his side of the family. They loved her.”

‘You grew up in Australia, right? You have dual citizenship?”

“Right. My mum is American. Second generation Italian American. My dad is Australian, but his parents were born in Italy also. My mum and dad met in Italy on holiday. I was born in the States but when I was about two, my mum and I moved to Melbourne to live with my dad. It took them awhile to figure out that they wanted to be together, despite logistics. They have houses here, there and in Italy.”

"Okay, so what’s your favorite type of food? Australian? American? Italian?"

"Italian. Pizza. To Carly’s chagrin, I also like sausage 'n peppers with vesuvio potatoes, Nottoli sausage, of course. Chicken parmesan, baked ravioli, tiramisu."

"To Carly’s chagrin on the sausage because she is a vegetarian, right?"

"Right. If she wasn’t madly in love with cheese and how well it pairs with wine, she’d be a vegan."

"Hmm. Sounds suspiciously familiar. So what type of adventures are you partial to photographing—and participating in yourself?"

“I love it all. My own passion for adventure usually places me alongside my subjects. I skydive a lot. Surf when I get the chance. I've done a lot of mountain trekking by foot and bike. Ice climbing. Back country skiing. Rafting, kayaking. Bungee jumping. It's all good. Race car driving—Bronson got me into that. You remember him, no?"

"Yep, he's a character, pun intended. Still playing rugby?"

"Every chance I get. We travel a lot."

"Favorite music?"

"Rock, preferably hard, dark and classic with some goth elements. I also love blues, especially Chicago style blues and I have been known to dance the night away to old school Motown."

"You sound like a Renaissance kind of guy. "

“What can I say? My ancestors are Toscano-- it's in the blood. That’s six questions, no? I’d like to wrap this up and phone Carly. She’s doing pretty good with the whole curse thing-- no drama-- but if I don’t call her shortly after I land there’s a good chance she could pass out from holding her breath a bit too long—not that she’d admit it.”

He flashes those to-die-for dimples, flips out his cell, and that’s a wrap.

Darn it. I didn't get a chance to ask him how Ewan is doing. Oh well-- there's always next time. Can I just say, what a doll! I’m madly in love with my own creation (but he does have a couple of flaws, I swear.) Luckily, I can live vicariously through Carly (duh!)

For eye candy related to Nick (my inspirations), see the entries below (he, he) including a You Tube video of hot Italian soccer players. I didn't choose the music, btw.

Cheers and happy writing,
Alyson

Hot Italian Football Players Do It Better

Nick's Photoshoot for the Six

Six Questions for the Romantic Lead

My story is about a young woman named Carolyn who travels the Oregon Trail in 1850. She falls in love on the journey. This is an interview from with the young man she falls in love with.

Why do you play the fiddle?
Because it makes me happy.

What do you mean?
I can’t explain it. I need to play the fiddle. I need to play dances. I need to play when I feel sad, when everything is broken. I need to know there’s hope. Music always give me hope.

Why did you leave Ireland?
Because everyone I loved died in the famine. I didn’t know people could be so cruel. I didn’t know until then that people who had plenty could drive others off the land when they were starving already. But I also found out that people who had next to nothing would share what little they had at their own costs. Ah, before those days I was a happy-go-lucky boy who played at the local pub for dances and loved the prettiest lasses who stepped the highest. Now I look for the real person, who they are behind their face.

Where are you going?
Wherever my feet lead. Where the future looks brighter. I thought I’d go to California to make my fortune. I found most of the men were gamblers and some were scoundrels. I found Carolyn going to Oregon. I hear the best farm land in the world is in Oregon. It rains all the time. Never a drought. Never a famine.

What’s the most important thing about this journey?
I’m going somewhere. I’m moving. I’m running away from the hard times. I hope I’m running to the good times. I always have hope.

What is your name?
That’s for you to find out. You’ll know when you see it.

The Six

Since it's no longer Sunday, I decided to just call this one The Six.

A while back, I conducted an in depth interview with my hero. I've posted six of my questions along with his answers below. Originally, I was going to interview him again -- some light questions for the Sunday Six. However, I changed my mind. I like these questions much better anyway. So, I guess I'll let Cris do the talking (Cris, the hero of my MIP, not Criss Angel, the dreamboat in Alyson's last blog.)

Tell me about your last girlfriend, the one you had before my MIP:
Red hair. Bright, auburn hair that always reminded of fall. Green eyes. One of those classic red heads with that shiny hair and light freckles. Petite. She was only maybe 5’3”. Tough as hell, though. No one ever saw that until it was too late for them. (A smile now.)
Once you got to know her, you forgot she was this little woman. She was so damn good at taking care of herself. She was always telling me that I didn’t need to protect her. But that was wrong. Wish I'd known that earlier.

She died, right? How'd she die?
Next question.

Right. Favorite music. So what is it?
Blues. B.B. King. Old Stones. You know – the classic stuff. Even a little CCR. (Hums a little “Who’ll Stop the Rain.)
Ask me about books.

You read?
Hell, yeah. I read. Vince Flynn. Guy’s accurate as hell. Robert Ludlum.

Did you grow up on espionage books and old, soulful rock?
Oh, yeah. Kinda. Loved the spy thing as a kid. And I just kinda got all dad’s old albums when he died. I used to play them over and over. Grandma even said after hearing it that much, she kinda liked the Stones, too.

Your grandmother raised you?
Yeah. She was a great lady. My parents both died in a car wreck when I was only 5. I was with my grandma at the time. My dad had taken my mom to a movie on a “date”. I think he did that a lot. Anyway, I just never went home after that night. I stayed with grandma. She was old, even then. I think raising me took a lot out of her.

Ok, so I'm ending this rather abruptly, but Cris and Kat (the heroine) have been telling me some things about Kat's family that I didn't know. Wow. They're bugging me to get back to the story. Cris wants me to go ahead and write the sex scene. (Typical man.)

I guess I better get back to work.

Macy

Rollercoaster

Criss Angel

There are many reasons to blog. Mine is catharsis. You may not learn much of interest from my entries but all in all I'm providing a pretty accurate snapshot of the things I've been thinking about as I write my first novel. Right now, I'm in a pissy mood. Why? Because I just thought I deleted a photo I uploaded to blogger when in reality I deleted my wonderful blog about the writing life as a rollercoaster. It's late so there's no way in heck I'm reconstructing the whole thing. I have a busy day tomorrow. You'll just have to take my word for it that the first run through was better than this is going to be.

Here's the deal. Today I sent out this rant to my writing group--

This week I've had three new ideas which impact what I've JUST rewritten and part of the damn plot I finished plotting ( Ugh!)-- AND in interviewing Nick for the Sunday Six, just for fun cuz I'm annoyed with my WIP and ready to scream, he told me I have him slightly wrong and suddenly he looks like a tall Criss Angel-- I'll post pics. Fricking A!

Yep, Macy. Roller coaster. ( This was in direct response to an email from M. saying that writing is a roller coaster. We had both had great days followed by all right days followed by nada but distractions for me and a migraine for her. Migraines! What a pain!)

Plus, I have no topic for the blog? Ideas anyone? I don't take very long to write them, I just don't feel like writing about anything. I feel like going to the beach -- a beach much further south than the beaches 'round here-- all day and then dancing all night. A tropical breeze would be fun, too.

Roxy wrote back --Let's all meet at that beach! It sounds great!Aren't those characters annoying? :)

Katrina wrote back-- Maybe you could write about the process of creating a story...those ideas that take forever to appear and those that come in a barrage of thought. It's part of the writing process. I think our minds will forever think of other possibilities. Some we need to hear out and others maybe not so much. It's like the problem of having ideas for other stories when we're chin deep in the current one. It's a challenge for us all to figure out how to filter it, right?

Macy wrote back -- How about the roller coaster?

Samantha wrote back-- Criss Angel! Wow, no wonder you're surprised. The man does have the most spectacular abs -- but I didn't picture Nick in eyeliner! Post those pics, I want to see which ones look like Nick. I agree about the roller coaster, but what really drives me crazy is that mine is going almost all downhill. I figure I'm in the second or third level of the underworld by now.

Jacqueline didn't write back. She is in Texas. Her daughter had surgery and is in recovery right now. She'll be back in Hawai'i tomorrow. We received word that the surgery went well. Prayers and positive thoughts would be much appreciated, I'm sure.

Okay, so based on that feedback, I wrote the rollercoaster blog and I uploaded a pic of a rollercoaster and two of Criss Angel. For those of you who don't know, Nick is my main character's romantic interest. As you may have guessed, I have the hots for Criss Angel despite what my neighbor calls his "dirty hotness." That may explain why Nick suddenly wants to look like him-- ha! Funny how that happens. If I go with his new request, I think that his looks would be an interesting contrast to Carly's since I imagine Carly, my main character, as someone who looks like a cross between Kelly Ripa, Jennifer Anniston and Reese Witherspoon, maybe with a hint of Sienna Miller but not quite so trendy.

Anyway . . . back to the rollercoaster thing. Everybody knows that a rollercoaster is an amusement park ride where passengers sit in a series of cars that are linked together. The cars move along a pair of rails supported by a wood or steel structure. The cars are carried up a steep incline by a linked chain. When the cars reach the top of the incline, they roll free of the chain and are propelled downward by gravity through a series of drops, rises, loops and turns. Ups and downs. According to the online dictionary at answers.com, a rollercoaster can also be an action, event, or experience marked by abrupt, extreme changes in circumstance, quality, or behavior.

How about it? I don't really think I have to write out a map showing you the ways in which this applies to the writing life. Productivity and creativity both ebb and flow. The emotions that accompany those ebbs and flows may rise and fall. The initial learning curve is steep -- and never really ends. For purists, rollercoasters are closed circuits, no? The novel itself ought to be a rollicking ride for both your characters and your readers with ups and downs, good momentum and at least one loop where everything turns upside down for a bit.

When it comes to the writing life, there are good days, bad days, confusing days, annoying days, dry days and exhilarating days. The key is that you keep moving.

If you'd like to try to your hand at designing a roller coaster, you can do so at Amusement Park Physics. I like the instructions: You will decide the following - the height of the first hill, the shape of the first hill, the exit path, the height of the second hill, and the loop. When you're done, your coaster will need to pass an inspection for both safety and fun.

Inspection, huh? Think about that-- agents, editors, publishers, readers. Also, if you think about that initial climb, it's somewhat slow but so filled with anticipation and excitement.

Here's my thought on what's been happening with me-- what if the initial climb isn't high enough? The amount of energy the coaster has to complete its journey around the track depends on the potential energy it has due to its height at the beginning. Moreover, the shape of the first hill will determine whether your coaster will stay on track. I think I was so excited to jump in and get started initially that I made mistakes. I made the initial climb too short. I didn't learn enough about my characters, engage in plotting or any of that. I just took off. I try not to get all bent out of shape about it-- despite occasional rants. When all is said and done, I fully expect to feel exhilarated by the ride and ready to write again.

Cheers and happy writing--

Alyson

Good enough?

I stayed home from work today. I cleaned up around here for awhile. (It's an ongoing task since workers are still in and out on a daily basis.) I also wrote some. I edited several pages. When I got stuck on exactly what I wanted, I put down the green pen and moved on to the synopsis.

I find writing a synopsis helps when I'm not exactly sure where I want the story to go. Somehow, just writing all the main points makes it clearer. At 1000 words into what really amounts to a rough summary more than a synopsis, I took a break.

I was frustrated. It just never seems that it's quite good enough. I'm this way about alot of things. Fortunately, the more comfortable I become with a job, the more I'm able to determine what's important and what I can let go. In the bill-paying job, I tend to be very non-perfectionist. I'm better than good-enough, and that's all that's expected.

However, with writing for publication, I feel this intense need to be perfect, to have the perfect manuscript. My characters need to be perfectly motivated. The villain needs to be perfectly revealed at the perfect time with the perfect clues dropped along the way. The heroine and the hero need to kiss at the perfect time, and I need to lead up to that moment with the perfect nuances.

But it goes deeper. I need the perfect word. I've been known to read the thesaurus for a half hour, playing with meaning until the perfect word appears. I've been known to repeat a sentence out loud, playing with word order and choice until the perfect cadence is developed.

I won't throw out any more examples of my quirky tendancies lest you run screaming that I need psychiatric help.

You see, though, writing is new enough to me that I haven't figured out those places where imperfection can hide. I know they are there, but I think I have yet to discover them. That means that I currently erase 900 words for every 1000 I write. I have to sit back and let the ideas come in their own sweet time instead of plowing forward. I have to test out all sorts of ideas. I have to rewrite...alot.

I have to find a reasonable way to work throught the frustrations that accompany imperfection because it's all imperfect now. I have to go through this quest for perfection until I know what it looks like in my own writing. Then I can figure out where to back off and how I can give myself a break.

Why do I do this? Why have I always done it? Today, in my frustration with imperfection I decided to do a little self-discovery and find out.

I looked as far as my Meyers Brigg personality type: INTJ.
About 1/2 of 1% of the population. Lucky me. (sarcasm)

Here are some things you should know about the INTJ.

1. No idea is too far-fetched to be entertained. INTJs are natural brainstormers, always open to new concepts and, in fact, aggressively seeking them. (Well, this is both good and bad for a writer. Brainstorming is good, but you have to know when to stop. Hmm.)

2. Likes looking at information from a global viewpoint, spotting patterns and relationships, that lead to an understanding of the key issues. (This is great. I generally "feel" like I can get a global view of the story, but those pesky details....)

3. INTJs are perfectionists, with a seemingly endless capacity for improving upon anything that takes their interest. (Problem: How do I know when it's perfect or at least good enough?)

4. (but, wait, there's more...) What prevents them from becoming chronically bogged down in this pursuit of perfection is the pragmatism so characteristic of the type: INTJs apply, often ruthlessly, the criterion "Does it work?" (Bigger problem: How do I -- the creator of my story -- know if it works? And what works for one person, doesn't always work for another. So, who do I please? The best and most reasonable answer is myself. Yes, but who else? I can please myself in many ways. What one of those is going to please my readers, editors, publishers, etc.?)

So, having at least identified the problem, I now have to come up with solutions. (Even if you keep reading, you won't find those. I haven't discovered them yet.)

It really is okay, though. I'm one of those people who embrace the journey, even the unpleasant parts. It's all about learning, and even the things that go wrong show me what not to do next time.

Today, I read an article in the most recent edition of Writer's Digest. The article was an interview with Janet Fitch, author of White Oleander and most recently, Paint It Black. After reading the interview, I think I'll buy Paint it Black. It's not the type of book I usually read. It's more literary, and unless I'm in the mood for something like that, I tend to read escapism commercial fiction. However, Fitch said some things in her interview that nailed what I was thinking about today.

She said, "If you hold yourself to high standard, there's always the disappointment that the book on the page isn't the book in your mind. It helps you to have a fair scoop of realism. You have to let go of what you want to do and just say, This is what I'm able to do. Some people's aspirations are very high, and whatever they do they're deeply unsatisfied with. That's a terrible trap for artists and writers not to be able to enjoy something that's imperfect, because everything in the physical world is imperfect."

She also said, "In the arts, your weakness becomes your signature. The fact that your work is imperfect makes it interesting."

Yes, to the first quote. Maybe, to the second one. I'm still debating it.

Obviously, perfectionism is an issue for me, much the same as power is for Alyson. (I'm glad we aren't covering my achilles heel this week.) However, in such a competitive industry, it seems that getting it as right as possible is a benefit.

So, I really do want to know: Does the fact that your work is imperfect make it interesting? If so, maybe I should try to perfect imperfection.

That's all the deep, rambling stuff for now.

Macy

PS. Read the full interview conducted by Mary Curran-Hackett in the April edition of Writer's Digest, pages 54-57.

Power & Authenticity

Here I go again with the Care and Feeding of the Girls in the Basement Class. This week we are talking about power. Lots of butterflies, jangling nerves, metal doors slamming inside my mind. I’m not sure what’s going on with this topic. We touched on it briefly before and it didn’t make me feel particularly weird—but this week, I feel weird. I actually do think it’s related to writing, so bare with me. I’m taking a meandering path but I’ll get to the point. Well, maybe.

Power is a tough topic for me because I have been an underachiever since I hit puberty—a slacker, a party girl, a job hopper, a perpetual grad student. A seeker. Essentially, a person with “leadership qualities” unwilling to lead. A “bohemian philosophe,” according to one group of friends. I tend to think I have to make it as a writer for my life to date to make any sort of sense. To validate my choices thus far.

I’ve avoided power. Over and over again. Why? I’m not sure but the becauses that are surfacing go something like this-- Because I’m afraid I’ll end up feeling responsible for even more people than I already feel responsible for. Because I’m afraid I’m not up to the task. Because I’m afraid that people won’t like me. Because I’d like to just fit in and be like everyone else even though I never have been. Because I have skeletons in my closet. Because I’m damaged goods. Because . . . well, power is oppressive, no? ( It doesn’t have to be but that’s my paradigm.) Because I was taught—trained well-- to hide my light under a bushel.

Now, I’m pretty damn sure I’m doing the avoiding thing in my writing and that is really bothersome to me. What has become increasingly clear to me as we do our Sunday Sixes, and our Girls in the Basement exercises, is that I don’t write or read for escape, romance or a happily ever after. I read for truth and connection—a sense that we’re all part of something bigger than ourselves or anything that happens to us individually, a sense that we’re greater than the sum of what we do or think or commit to. I read to get in touch with my power and authenticity, my humanity, the light that resides in each and every one of us. For the most part, I want all my emotions galvanized. I want to think, I want to feel, I want to laugh but even that’s not enough-- I want a gut check and at least one solid tug at the soul. I want comedy with a bite or tragedy with a kiss and a caress. I want to feel the power of the words, the power of the story, the power of life and love and hope—and even despair. I want to be moved. Preferably deeply.

And I want to write the types of stories I like to I read.

I tend to resist the label “deep” (or “intense” as my friend, Victor, relentlessly referred to me) because, heck, we’re all “deep” in one way or another. In truth , my tastes are very eclectic. However, I do like to play in the deep end more often than not and maybe, just maybe, I have to start saying that aloud and harnessing the power and beauty of it rather than brushing it off or making light of it. I’m passionate about the soul, truth, human nature, the human experience, life and love. While I do enjoy a good romantic comedy, I also love old school writers like Austen, Faulkner, Bronte, Roth, Dostoevsky, and Shakespeare, who tell timeless stories with such social, psychological and spiritual insight that the stories almost hurt because they’re so keen, so sharp, so well-observed. Yes, the reader says, that’s exactly how it is.

That’s powerful.

While I was grocery shopping and pondering my resistance to power, I picked up this month’s Oprah Magazine. The theme of the March issue is authenticity. I had an epiphany of sorts as authenticity and power intermingled together in my mind while gazing at the cover photo of Oprah in green. When you think about it, who in the world is more powerful than Oprah? Not many people. What makes her so amazing is that she harnesses her power for good.

I'm still in "quote mode" from the Sunday Six last week so here are a handful of uplifting quotes on authenticity from the magazine —-

“Be what you are. Give what is yours to give. Have Style. Dare.”
--Stanley Kunitz, from Journal for My Daughter

“True guilt is guilt at the obligation one owes to oneself to be oneself. False guilt is guilt felt at not being what other people feel one ought to be or assume that one is.”
--Ronald David Lang

“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”
--Nora Ephron

“Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be.”
--Fanny Brice

“It’s important to use your voice, whether you are effective or not.” –Patti Smith

“I think of [authenticity] as a commitment, a passion. Seeking and trying to tell the truth. Truth is important in a world that is changing so constantly and so quickly. And searching for authenticity becomes even more urgent in a world increasingly dominated by virtual reality.” – Christiane Amanpour

“Your authentic self cannot rely on other people’s validation. Now, note that this is coming from an actor; I am a professional applause seeker. Yet I know that when you are genuinely genuine, there will invariably be people who don’t accept you. And in that case, you must be your own badass self, without apology. At some point, the importance of being real makes you stop caring about what others think. Ever had that kind of moment? It feels good. Strong. It cures the disease to please.” –Katie Goodman

“We know it when we see it and we love the people who live it—the ones we can count on, always , to be brazenly, exhilaratingly themselves. . . Authenticity is the real deal: speaking up for what you believe in, refusing to be ruled by the desire for acceptance, listening for the difference between the impulses that move you and the fear that holds you back.” -- Oprah Magazine (no author named)

Okay, so what is my point here? I believe that to be powerful, you have to be authentic, especially as an artist, and I haven’t been entirely authentic. I think, perhaps, I’ve danced around this topic a few times here. Obviously, it’s something I’m grappling with now that I’ve finished plotting and dived back into writing. Sometimes I think I get so caught up in what publishers may want, what my critique partners like, what seems to be selling, what other writers say or are doing, that I forget to dig deep. To protect the authenticity of my work. To respect the authenticity of others’ work. We were all born to be brazenly authentic. If I can figure how to do that in my own writing, my storytelling, then I will finally embrace my power and use it for good—to entertain, empower, heal and uplift others.

Cheers and happy writing,
Alyson

Lines I Wish I’d Created…

Ever hear or read a line of dialogue and think, “Oh! Why couldn’t I write or say something that clever or moving or brilliant?” I do that quite a bit. Of course, to cement those moments in my mind, I write them down.

My collection of quotes spans books, articles, TV shows, movies, and even live verse off the lips of the speakers themselves. I especially love wit, clever word choice, beautifully descriptive passages and meaning on multiple levels. Below is a sampling of my collection. I admit, some are silly, but that’s what I enjoy about them. None are particularly romantic, which makes me think I need to note more of those.

The Spoken Word:

“I could be on fire and she wouldn’t even try to put me out.” My brother-in-law, Greg, said this when I asked him how engrossed my sister was in the X-Files.

“I knew the writing on the wall, I just didn’t want to read it.” - Unknown

Michael – “She’s obsessed with me.”
Maria – “Well, I guess that makes two of you, then, doesn’t it?”
- Roswell

Liz – “This can never be normal, Max.”
Max – “What’s so great about normal.”
- Roswell

Martin – “I’m sorry if I f****ed up your life.”
Debbie – “It’s not over yet.”
- Gross Pointe Blank

Dawn – “When do I get to patrol?”
Buffy – “Not until you’re never.”
- Buffy

“Not only has the shit hit the fan, but it’s aimed smack at us.” Quoted from an interview with Norma Barzman

Descriptions:

“Davy’s kiss tasted like Vodka and disaster.”
- Faking It, Jennifer Crusie (You knew I was going to quote her, didn’t you?)

Another from Crusie:
“Six feet two of broad-shouldered, dark-haired disappointment stood there, looking as startled as she was, and her treacherous heart lurched sideways at the sight.”
- Hot Toy in Santa Baby

Regarding Mrs. Darling, “The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her.”
- Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie

A last one from Crusie’s Bet Me:
“He was in profile now, talking to David. The man should be on coins, Min thought.”

The collection I drew from wasn't as large as I remembered and I now want to bulk it up a bit more, and I want to reach higher to create clever quotable lines myself.

Katrina

Lines I Wish I’d Said

“You had me at hello.” Dorothy says this to Jerry Maguire in the movie of the same name. Jerry has just finished telling her, “You complete me.” (What a great line to be told, btw!) And she knows. The words don’t matter. She knows. “Shut up, just shut up. You had me at ‘hello’”.

I love lines like that. Simple. Eloquent. To the point. Powerful.

I tend to like two kinds of lines. Those, like the one above, that are so simple I couldn’t ever actually think to say them myself. I tend to be wordy, to try to say things every possible way. Therefore, the simplicity of such a great line frequently awes me. Simple. Concise. Clear. Perfect.

The other kind of line I like is wordy and eloquent. It has a complicated rhythm to it, it’s depth woven intricately into the carefully constructed sentences.

Take the following line. Gemma Doyle, the protagonist in Libba Bray’s brilliant book, A Great and Terrible Beauty, says, “I don’t know yet what power feels like. But this is surely what it looks like, and I think I’m beginning to understand why those ancient woman had to hide in caves. Why our parents and teachers and suitors want us to behave properly and predictably. It’s not that they want to protect us; it’s that they fear us.”

Gemma was raised in India. She’s one of those girls that naturally thinks her own thoughts. Her world is colored differently than that of other girls raised in the late 1800’s British culture. She sees the repression of her culture for all it’s worth and aptly summarizes her feelings about it, hitting the issue at its heart.

I wish I’d said, or even thought, something like that. Growing up in small town Texas, even in the 1970’s and 80’s, was not altogether different from late 1800’s England or Middle America 1950’s. Appearances were everything. I wish I’d been as astute at 16 as Gemma. Perhaps being able to so succinctly identify the root of it all, like she did, would have provided some measure of peace.

When we decided to tackle this topic on the Sunday Six, I panicked a bit. All my books are still boxed. Boxes and boxes of books, awaiting my book shelf and permanent desk. I didn’t have the luxury of flipping through the pages of loved favorites to rediscover lines that stopped me by their sheer profoundness.

Of course, I did dig through the boxes a bit to come up with the remaining three lines, but those previous ones hit me square. I’ve loved them every time I’ve heard them.

These others… well, I’m not sure I wish I’d said them, but they were profound in the context of the books in which they were written, nonetheless.

From Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card –
Ender has defeated the buggers. Near the end of the book, he wants to board a starship and fly away and live forever. He tells his sister, Valentine, that he needs to leave because he’s almost happy there. She tells him to stay, and he says, “I’ve lived too long with pain. I won’t know who I am without it.” How poignant and honest. I think a lot of people feel that way. What a powerful line.

“Frankly, my dear. I don't give a damn." Yes, the line from Gone with the Wind is a bit cliché now, but I’ve said it, or my variation of it. I’ll probably say it again.

For my final one (it counts as both 5 and 6, since it’s in at least three of Karen Marie Moning’s highlander books), I’ve included the Druid binding vows that several of Moning’s characters use to marry one another. What beautiful words! “If aught must be lost, ‘twill be my honor for yours. If one must be forsaken, ‘twill be my soul for yours. Should death come anon, ‘twill be my life for yours. I am Given.” If I wasn’t already married, I might just use those vows.

I’m sure I’ll come up with a dozen other lines later this week, but for now, I need to get back to my MIP. I have a couple of contests I want to enter by Friday. I need to try out a few changes I’ve made. The contests seem as good a place as any.

Bye for now.

Macy