Just came to me...

I was minding my own business, listening to the soundtrack of the Last of the Mohicans when this scene came to me. It was so powerful I had to stop  and give it life.
Thought I'd share -

The twisted sagebrush clumped together, hard and unyielding.  There is no comfort, warmth or welcome, only a man who stands alone.  The wind pulls at his hair, his clothes, yet he stands unmoved and stares. 

Will she come?

She has to, he will be broken otherwise.

Storm clouds rumble in the distance, he waits. Nothing but the smell of rain reaches him.  No color, bright flower or inviting thing breaks the scene before him, only gray . He searches every detail of the horizon, hoping, praying to catch movement of her approach. The wind howls across the land with nothing to break its relentless energy.  

Still he stands. Still he waits.



Your Story

            Last week I got to tell you all why Chelsea is a great critique partner. This week it is Beckie’s turn!

            Beckie is amazing at character consistency and reactions. I have a tendency to get so caught up in the plot when I’m writing that I accidentally forget to talk about my MC’s emotional state. Or I know I need my MC to stand up to the king, but the way I go about it is completely out of character for her. Beckie is always there to point out that perhaps my MC would be more distraught about being ripped away from her parents instead of joking around in the next scene, or that my MC would never sass the king that way!

            In one of my scenes, my MC reacts passively to what is going on around her, allowing peripheral characters to take the lead for awhile while she kind of follows along. Beckie wrote me a great note along the lines of, “Your MC is coming across as very weak right now. I know there is still a lot of story to go and she will probably grow more, but right now she is not shining. But at the end of the day it is your story and your characters. You know how you want it to go.”

            I really appreciated that she phrased her criticism such that she was telling me how she perceived the scene, but still acknowledged that it was my story and I should tell it the way that felt true to me. I had wanted my MC to struggle more during this section of the book, because I wanted to show her growing throughout the rest of the story. But I had clearly gone too far, and Beckie pointed out that some readers may not like my character (and therefore my story) the way I had written it. So I went back and made her a bit feistier (but not too feisty! Had to leave room for some character development). In the end, Beckie’s suggestions made the scene much stronger.

            I feel like I could write pages and pages about how my critique partners have helped my writing. But this will have to do for now J

Partners in Words

I think Alice had an excellent idea last week. So excellent that I want to do the same. I have the most awesome critique partners ever and to a writer, that's important.

I met Beckie on an author's blog. Maggie Steifvater was holding a Critique meetup for writers who needed partners. I thought to myself, why not? I wasn't quite where I needed to be, novel-wise, but it wouldn't hurt to start a relationship.

So I posted my "call" and Beckie answered! (I was checking out another potential partner too, but she didn't work out.) I connected with Beckie, her writing was great, and she was euthisastic. I had never met someone who was so excited about writing as I was; refreshing.

With my writing, Beckie helps me keep in mind that I need to be better at showing/explaining. I have to remember that my readers can't see the stuff in my head unless I write it properly. She often points out character issues or when she's confused by what's going on.

She also helps remind me of the end goal: Publication. Whenever I'm in my "Don't worry about the boring aspect of writing, because what matters is the story and the quality of writing, everything else can wait" moods, Beckie listens to my opinions and then firmly continues to keep us on track with our goal of authordom. Without her, I doubt I would know as much about the other side of being an author as I do.

My other partner, Alice, I met through Beckie. She asked if she could bring in another person, and I had not problem with that. And after I read a piece of Alice's writing, I knew she had to be a part of this and make our duo a trio.

She keeps me on track with grammar (for I am horrible at it) and continuity. A lot of times I decide to switch something in my story unconciously or forget a detail and Alice is there to remind me. She often envokes me to think about what my characters are actually doing and if it makes sense. And my tenses. Those she often points out as well, thankfully.

Both of my critique partners are great writers in their own right, and I'm glad that they are my partners, dedicated to helping me become the best writer I can be. As I do for them. Not saying I always agree with them, for you can ask either of them and I'm hundred percent sure that they will tell you I'm quite the rebel when it comes to some writing aspects. I'm often the one saying "um no," or typing out long explaining emails why I did something the way I did it. (And then I realize that if I had to explain it that means I didn't write it well enough and I better go back and re-write it)

But without my critique partners my current novel would never would have been written. Nor would it be as well-written. I wish every author had such sweet, awesome, amazing, well-read partners as I.

The Afternoon I met Anne Perry

I can’t decide if it’s more fun to anticipate something or be pleasantly surprised by it.  The afternoon I met Anne Perry I had no idea how exceptional that next hour was going to be. Delightfully surprised.

Anne was the keynote speaker for the Story Maker’s Conference in Utah, last weekend. Her legendary skills are used in a different genre than I normally read, so I was not familiar with her work.  I instantly became a fan. Her beautiful British accent caught my attention first but as she continued to speak, the eloquence of her words surpassed the way she spoke.

 Usually when a keynote speaker presents at one of these conferences, a dull murmur of conversation continues throughout but not with Anne. The entire room was silent. She is a recent convert to the LDS church, a lover of poetry and a legend in the industry.  Her entire address had threads of writing advice, poems, life lessons and mentions of deity woven beautifully together.

The only way to describe it was magical.  The kind of magic, that gives you goose bumps, steals your breath and makes you wish everyone you knew could hear it with you. Ultimately I sat there wondering how I had been so lucky to hear it myself.

The next day I snuck into Anne’s class to hear two more hours of her wisdom but this time is was centered solely on the craft of writing.  I had to sneak because I hadn’t signed up for it to begin with.  I’m so glad I did.  She said things like “Keep it simple, cut out repetition. Write from the heart.  Don’t describe a scene, tell how the characters feel about being in it.  Create echoes throughout your book. Shimmering is a great word to write once, not fifteen times. The scent of something can be powerful.” She made me want to write better, research more and be elegant.  I realize being elegant is not necessarily a character trait of a great writer but I wanted to do it anyway.  I wanted to have tea, use a British accent and talk about white roses in the moonlight. 

Anytime you have an experience that elevates you, inspires you, makes you want to be a better person, I believe you should cherish it.  Speaking as someone who loves to write, I say you need to write it down, you have to.  Write it down in every detail so that you can go back and live it again and again.

That’s the way I felt after meeting Anne Perry, inspired.



And

            A good critique partner is hard to come by. You want to find someone who ‘gets’ your story, but isn’t so in love with it that they’re just a cheerleader and can’t offer advice to make it better. You have to find someone who can articulate their feelings, instead of just saying “this character isn’t working for me” or “this part of your story just dragged on.”

            I’m so lucky that I have two wonderful critique partners, Beckie and Chelsea. I wanted to do a little 2-part series about some ah-ha! moments they’ve directly influenced in my writing.

            I’ll start with Chelsea. The first time she read part of my story, she bluntly told me, “you have a problem with the word ‘and.’ That conjunction sneaks into your writing everywhere!”

            I reread my chapters. She was completely right. I used ‘and’ all the time! But what really blew my mind was that I had NEVER noticed before! And once she pointed it out, it was so obvious. My use of the word ‘and’ totally threw off my sentence structure, making my writing sound repetitive.

            Chelsea is never shy about calling me out on things either. In one scene, my MC shoots a bow and arrow. In the margin she commented, “Alice, I’m sorry, but have you ever held a bow and arrow before? Because it doesn’t sound like it.” Busted. I have pretty thick skin so I appreciate that she can just give it to me straight.

            Next week, Beckie!!!

A Night at the Theatre

I rarely get to go to the theatre. And I'm not talking the movie theatre. I'm talking about the people-acting-in-person-in-front-of-you theatre. I love it. I love the feel of being there, of experiencing something that has been around for years. The only problem: Tickets are pricey. But, I just got paid and they were showing Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. The ONE play I've always wanted to see. Couldn't pass it up.

And it was so worth the money.

The Indiana Repertory Theatre, in Indianapolis has one of the most awesome troupe of actors. (I may be biased since I live here, but the statement still stands.) And they did an excellent job with Shakespeare's comedy. They were casted perfectly. Lysander was adorable, simply adorable. And Puck...he was perfect.

But while watching the play it hit me. Shakespeare wrote this play, over a hundred years or so ago, and it is still making people laugh. How many authors or people in general can say that about their work? I giggled at how Lysander and Demetrius were fighting over Helena. I laughed as Puck ran about the stage, making mischief. I had tears in my eyes as the players were trying to put on their play for the wedding party.

The fact that Shakespeare can make people laugh, cry, and feel even in a completely new century and country, is amazing to me. People all around me were in tears, and you could see on the actor's faces that they were enjoying themselves. At one point they were evening stifling laughter themselves.

Granted, it was sometimes hard to understand what they were saying, through all that old English and flowery language, but the gist of it was there. And Shakespeare knew his audience. He wrote both for the nobility and for the common people, and therefore had aspects that appealed to both.

As a writer, this is a skill I would love to learn. I want to make people smile, laugh, cry, yell, feel with my writing. This is my ultimate goal.

My night at the theatre was time well spent. Not only did I get a lovely couple hours of fun entertainment, I also came away with a sense of purpose as a writer.

I highly recommend going to the theatre when you get the chance. It's a different style of storytelling, that could impact your own. And if A Midsummer Night's Dream is showing, go. \

Just go.

"The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact,"
-Theseus, from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream

Partners in Art

There is just one thing that I want right now, more than anything. And that is: a desk.

Not just any desk. But a writing desk. Someplace where I could sit and just write. To have the space needed to plot or keep track of characters. Instead of what I am currently doing-laying in bed. This is the only place I have to write.

I cannot have a desk. Because I share a room with my sister. There is no space to be had. Since I was seven I have shared this little room with my sister. We've had ups and downs, and there were times where I wished I could just shove her out to the garage to live. (She's horribly messy, and while I'm not the definition of organized myself, I do have a semblance of order)

Nowadays we get along great and understand each others differences in taste and personalities. She's an artist-a good one if I may say so-and so has her artsy stuff all over the place and sometimes the room reeks of paint. I'm a writer so I have books in piles at random places and often am up late tap-tap-tapping on my keyboard while she's trying to sleep.

But there is one thing that I cannot do without. That is: my sister.

She listens to all my plot lines and character arcs, pokes holes in them often, and encourages me. I point out the flaws in her art and applaud her as she works hard on a masterpiece. We can always count on the other to be truthful, nothing held back. I get her, she gets me.

I've learned to appreciate my sister, that I have someone who is so supportive and caring of me.

I still want my own room with a nice writing desk, though.

Coming Out of Your Shell

 

             If I had to pick five words to describe myself, none of them would be along the lines of ‘Outgoing.’ I’ve just never been one of those people that can walk up to a stranger and start a conversation. I get nervous, I don’t know what to say. Or I just ramble on until the other person can politely excuse herself and wander over to the punch bowl.

            So when I went to my first writing conference almost two years ago, I found a nice chair in the corner of the room, by myself. I had my water bottle and my notebook and my pen. I was ready for the day.

            Except the conference was more popular than I had anticipated. Soon all of the chairs were full. I ended up sitting next to a lovely woman who immediately smiled and introduced herself as Mary. She asked what I was writing.

            I had never spoken about my story out loud. Besides my husband, no one even knew I was writing at the time. But I couldn’t tell her “nothing” or “none of your business.”

            “It’s an urban fantasy.” Saying those words out loud was scary. But at the same time, it made my writing feel real. I wrote an urban fantasy novel.

            Mary’s eyes lit up. “I love urban fantasy! Tell me about it.”

            So we talked.

            I told her about my story. She told me about her paranormal romance. We sat next to some other women at lunch and exchanged more stories. That day, I talked to six different people about not just our plots, but the life of a writer, our struggles, our victories, our dreamsfor our novels. Seeing their passion made me excited about their stories, and excited to talk about my story as well. I found that I could hold my own in a conversation if the topic was something I was passionate about.

 

 

            If you ever find yourself at a writers’ conference, don’t be afraid to strike up a conversation! You already know you have something in common, and you could be making a life-long friend.

Wonky

Sometimes you do something so scatterbrained you have to set down and think about it. I found myself setting down on a bench in sunshine yesterday morning doing just that.

I woke up early yesterday morning, made a list and packed my bags. I wanted to be at the Marriott in Provo, Utah at 11:30 for a writer’s conference.  The activities started at 12:30 so I thought arriving there an hour early would give me enough time to check in, get settled and head down to whatever ballroom they had reserved.  I pulled into the parking terrace at 11:28 feeling pretty good about things. Unfortunately my normal routine is to run a bit late, so I was doing really well. With my hotel confirmation in hand, I headed into the classy hotel lobby and waited my turn to check.  I looked down at the dates listed the paper. May 9 through the 11^th.

What?!

It was May 2.

Then the hotel desk clerk was ready for me. I think his name was Matt.

Matt: “How can I help you today?”

Beckie: “I really hope you can. I think I scheduled my room for next week instead of this week and I’m here for the conference. ”

Matt: “Are you here for the Women’s Conference?”

Beckie: “No, the LDStorymakers conference.”

Matt: “That’s next week.”

Beckie: ???

Matt: “…so your reservation is correct. Yours rooms will be ready for you on the 9^th through the 11^th.”

Beckie: “….ok.” Stares at the ceiling as if the answers as to how she could screwed-up by a whole week would be written there in red.

Matt: “Can I help you with anything else?”

Beckie: Smiles pathetic smile, “No thank you.”

I walked outside in the sunshine, looked up at the blue sky. Thought of my favorite swear word that starts with Sh… and saw a bench. I sat on it, looking at my car and trying to decide what I should do next.

Matt came out for some reason and joined me. I liked Matt. He was Samoan I think, with a nice blue blazer and a big smile. He sat down, asked me if I would come back next week, I said yes. I told him I was a little overwhelmed because I had  not only made arrangements at work but with my six kids and had everything ready for the conference. He said he understood completely. We sat some more. He said I should go shopping for the day and not go back to work.

 Like I said, I liked Matt.

After calling my husband and my boss, I decided the same thing.

The day was not a loss. I shopped for things I really didn’t need but enjoyed buying anyway and ate my favorite chicken wrap at Red Robin. The day wasn’t as good as my conference but overall, not bad.

So if you every find that you’ve done something a little wonky, I suggest finding a bench in the sun and a friend named Matt.