The holiday season is upon us, and I've been contemplating what to give my extended relatives, friends, and total strangers who scratch their heads each time I post a writing-related update on my social networks. And since I believe in giving thoughtful and useful gifts, I have compiled this list of writing terms and definitions to send to all, so you can stop asking me what I'm talking about. I also figured you writers out there might want to give this list to the non-writers in your life. It’s the perfect gift! You're welcome. Happy holidays, everyone!
NOTE: Please let me know if I’ve missed any writing term you need a definition for. I’ll be happy to add it to the list.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
An Accidental Adventure...
Today I'm plugging my post on my other blog. If you know of a child (preferrably 8-12, since that's the target age) interested in adventure stories, please check out the interview I conducted with C. Alexander London, all about his Accidental Adventure series (it's tres cool, I'll tell you that much here).
Speaking of accidental adventures, I thought today would be a good day to share stories about how we writers got started in the writing business. My first attempt at writing for children was definitely an accident, in case you were wondering how an accident and writing connected in the real world.
Oh, you want to hear that story? Well, okay. But it's dull. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Here's my accidental adventure/how I go started in the business for writing children:
You see, I'd been writing stories for adults for years, but I couldn't ever finish one. Usually I gave up somewhere in the first chapter or two, most often when I'd hit a brick wall with the plot and couldn't figure out a way forward (then, as now, I'm a pantser). So I was pleased when I had made it to the middle of a manuscript. The problem I ran into this time, however, was that main characters kept acting like children. I was so irritated at them that I flung the story right out the metaphorical window and took a break until I could figure out how to fix it.
Not long after, my young son was being silly with rhymes, and he giggled when he came up with "enormous porpoise." I knew there had to be a picture book in there somewhere, so I wrote a (badly-written) 5,000-word rhyming story about a porpoise, Dorcas, and her tiny friend, Jose. The book was terrible, but I enjoyed myself so much that I realized the best way to fix my problem of writing characters that acted like children was to...wait for it...write books where the children were the main characters.
Yes, I was a little slow on that uptake.
So, you see, a rhyme by a 4-year-old and a manuscript that will never see the light of day accidentally helped me find my true calling as an author of children's books.
Okay, now it's your turn. What's your story? Accidental or other-wise, I want to know!
*pulls up a chair and leans forward to listen*
Speaking of accidental adventures, I thought today would be a good day to share stories about how we writers got started in the writing business. My first attempt at writing for children was definitely an accident, in case you were wondering how an accident and writing connected in the real world.
Oh, you want to hear that story? Well, okay. But it's dull. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Here's my accidental adventure/how I go started in the business for writing children:
You see, I'd been writing stories for adults for years, but I couldn't ever finish one. Usually I gave up somewhere in the first chapter or two, most often when I'd hit a brick wall with the plot and couldn't figure out a way forward (then, as now, I'm a pantser). So I was pleased when I had made it to the middle of a manuscript. The problem I ran into this time, however, was that main characters kept acting like children. I was so irritated at them that I flung the story right out the metaphorical window and took a break until I could figure out how to fix it.
Not long after, my young son was being silly with rhymes, and he giggled when he came up with "enormous porpoise." I knew there had to be a picture book in there somewhere, so I wrote a (badly-written) 5,000-word rhyming story about a porpoise, Dorcas, and her tiny friend, Jose. The book was terrible, but I enjoyed myself so much that I realized the best way to fix my problem of writing characters that acted like children was to...wait for it...write books where the children were the main characters.
Yes, I was a little slow on that uptake.
So, you see, a rhyme by a 4-year-old and a manuscript that will never see the light of day accidentally helped me find my true calling as an author of children's books.
Okay, now it's your turn. What's your story? Accidental or other-wise, I want to know!
*pulls up a chair and leans forward to listen*
Friday, November 11, 2011
Are You Listening?
You've probably noticed that I'm what you'd call a funny(ish) gal. So it wasn't a big surprise when my first novel (a mystery) turned out to be a humor(ish) book in places. My second novel was a riot--it housed talking geckos and robot pirates and flying space galleons and monkey overlords and a SECRET that could blow up the universe if it got into the wrong hands, which (of course) it did. After that, I threw a funny(ish) sequel to my first novel into the mix, and then attempted a spoof on the Hardy Boys novels of yesteryear.
Yes, funny is my playground.
So it came as quite a surprise when my current WIP wouldn't leave me alone. It's poignant(ish), literary(ish), and completely beautiful. I can feel the main character's longings as if they were my own, and in some ways I guess they are. It's a book about growing up in a dying culture, the culture my mother and grandmother and great-grandmother lived in and passed down to me. It's also about learning to let go. I'm writing this book because it shares the childhood I had but a childhood my kids will never know. I'm writing this book for my grandmother. I'm writing this book for me.
But, as much as I love this book, I realize its genre is a dying culture of its own. You know, one of those quiet books. Today, industry folks use the word as if it was a bad thing. I have serious reservations about ever selling it, but I'm writing it anyway.
Sometimes, there are story ideas that sneak up on you and take up residence on your shoulder. They whisper straight into your ear and don't bother to check and see if you're paying attention. When those kinds of stories start to talk, it's best to listen.
Sometimes those story ideas aren't dressed like the rest of the stories you've written or plotted either. They don't fit your brand or the trends. So what do you do?
You write them anyway.
Don't worry about whether or not you can sell them. Don't worry about whether or not they fit with the rest of the books you've written (or will write). Don't even worry about whether or not they speak to anyone else.
They are speaking to you. Are you listening?
Chances are, once they've finished speaking to you, and you've written them down, they will speak to others, too. Those kinds of story ideas make the best kinds of books. And even if they don't speak to others, you've been transformed by them. That's all that matters, really, because it will make a difference on the next book you write, and the next and the next and the next.
So do the rest of the world a favor and listen. Okay?
Yes, funny is my playground.
So it came as quite a surprise when my current WIP wouldn't leave me alone. It's poignant(ish), literary(ish), and completely beautiful. I can feel the main character's longings as if they were my own, and in some ways I guess they are. It's a book about growing up in a dying culture, the culture my mother and grandmother and great-grandmother lived in and passed down to me. It's also about learning to let go. I'm writing this book because it shares the childhood I had but a childhood my kids will never know. I'm writing this book for my grandmother. I'm writing this book for me.
But, as much as I love this book, I realize its genre is a dying culture of its own. You know, one of those quiet books. Today, industry folks use the word as if it was a bad thing. I have serious reservations about ever selling it, but I'm writing it anyway.
Sometimes, there are story ideas that sneak up on you and take up residence on your shoulder. They whisper straight into your ear and don't bother to check and see if you're paying attention. When those kinds of stories start to talk, it's best to listen.
Sometimes those story ideas aren't dressed like the rest of the stories you've written or plotted either. They don't fit your brand or the trends. So what do you do?
You write them anyway.
Don't worry about whether or not you can sell them. Don't worry about whether or not they fit with the rest of the books you've written (or will write). Don't even worry about whether or not they speak to anyone else.
They are speaking to you. Are you listening?
Chances are, once they've finished speaking to you, and you've written them down, they will speak to others, too. Those kinds of story ideas make the best kinds of books. And even if they don't speak to others, you've been transformed by them. That's all that matters, really, because it will make a difference on the next book you write, and the next and the next and the next.
So do the rest of the world a favor and listen. Okay?
Monday, November 7, 2011
Just Do It...Or Take a Class First?
How many of you writers out there have taken one writing course after another in order to learn how to write (or write better)? Or who went to college for a degree in writing?
I'm curious to know who out there has learned through formal courses and who, like me, is mostly self-taught. I've taken one creative writing college course (which focused primarily on writing poems, thanks to an instructor who had a PhD in poetry and no real love of prose), but everything I've learned has been through trial and error.
I ask because, as a self-taught writer, I see what I think is a strange phenomenon in this industry: writers who compartmentalize.
Now, by that I mean that I am often amazed when I hear of other writers asking for information on one very specific and often narrow category in the writing process. These people gather grundles of information from other writers in order to study this very narrow category before they attempt it on their own.
I know there is nothing wrong with this--it's probably a great way to learn--but I taught myself to write. I didn't use textbooks. I didn't study the writing process.
I just did it.
And then I did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Sometimes I wonder if this more organic way of learning actually puts me at a disadvantage. Because I'll admit that sometimes writers talk and I'm at a loss. I have no idea what they are talking about. They talk about things I've never consciously studied or thought about, but some time during my organic self-teaching I must have picked up and perfected without knowing it. And I only know that because others who have read my writing tell me so. It's like carrying on a conversation with someone with a very thick accent. I should understand them but sometimes I have to ask them to slow down and explain themselves.
But other times I think I might be the lucky one. I do think outside the box, mostly because I never learned what the box was to begin with. I also trust myself more, because this whole writing thing really has been intuitive for me.
So, weigh in, folks. I want to hear your thoughts on this. Do you think your schooling (or lack of it) has helped or hurt your own writing process? And give some examples, please!
I'm curious to know who out there has learned through formal courses and who, like me, is mostly self-taught. I've taken one creative writing college course (which focused primarily on writing poems, thanks to an instructor who had a PhD in poetry and no real love of prose), but everything I've learned has been through trial and error.
I ask because, as a self-taught writer, I see what I think is a strange phenomenon in this industry: writers who compartmentalize.
Now, by that I mean that I am often amazed when I hear of other writers asking for information on one very specific and often narrow category in the writing process. These people gather grundles of information from other writers in order to study this very narrow category before they attempt it on their own.
I know there is nothing wrong with this--it's probably a great way to learn--but I taught myself to write. I didn't use textbooks. I didn't study the writing process.
I just did it.
And then I did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Sometimes I wonder if this more organic way of learning actually puts me at a disadvantage. Because I'll admit that sometimes writers talk and I'm at a loss. I have no idea what they are talking about. They talk about things I've never consciously studied or thought about, but some time during my organic self-teaching I must have picked up and perfected without knowing it. And I only know that because others who have read my writing tell me so. It's like carrying on a conversation with someone with a very thick accent. I should understand them but sometimes I have to ask them to slow down and explain themselves.
But other times I think I might be the lucky one. I do think outside the box, mostly because I never learned what the box was to begin with. I also trust myself more, because this whole writing thing really has been intuitive for me.
So, weigh in, folks. I want to hear your thoughts on this. Do you think your schooling (or lack of it) has helped or hurt your own writing process? And give some examples, please!
Monday, September 19, 2011
What I Learned By Watching a Tree
You read that title right. I have learned something by watching a tree. And not just a something, but a something that was brilliant enough to make it into a blog post. A something so fantasmic, so alarmingly insightful, so....
Okay, fine. I'll stop waxing eloquent and tell you what I learned.
But first, I should explain a few things. The first is that, yes, I am guilty of being a nature lover. I do watch trees. For fun.
The next explanation is this: yes, I'm weird.
Now that we have those basic facts out of the way, let's get to what I learned by watching a tree. This should delight all of you, unless you are devout tree haters, in which case I don't think we can be friends anymore.
So, today I was watching a tree as it shed the first of its autumn leaves. It did so in front of a stream of middle-schoolers and their parents, but I doubt anyone (except me) noticed. It quietly let go of some of its showy canopy and retreated inside.
And I realized how similar I was to this tree. How all of us who are writing for publication are like this tree.
No, I'm not losing my leaves. Bear with me here...
You see, being an author, especially one with an online presence to maintain (which, last time I checked, was just about every writerly person on the known planet), is pretty much like a tree in summer. Our showy canopy glitters in the sunlight for the world to see. We preen and rustle in the wind, and people see us and say, "Gee. That tree...uh, author...is PRETTY." And we like the attention, and we realize how much we love what it is we do.
But then something happens. It could be that we have a book hitting the shelves, and we realize we are terrified of the reviews. Or maybe we are in the middle of a first draft and we realize we have written the worst draft ever in the history of the written word. Or it could be that we receive our one-hundred-and-forty-seventh rejection from an agent--and it was THE agent for us; the one we had placed the last of our hopes and dreams on. Or it could simply be that we realize we are tired of the business of writing. Whatever it is, we start to lose a little of the love we had of being a writer. And, before we know it, we've retreated from the world.
Now, you are probably wondering why on earth I would share such a depressing story. This isn't my usual earth-shattering, amazingly inspiring posts, you are thinking to yourself. In fact, you are ready to take the tofu burger and fries that you are eating and squash them into your computer screen in the hopes of forever blotting out the drivel you just read.
But if you did, then you'd miss the other half of this post.
And that is, that I have learned more from watching a tree.
You see, I have learned that a tree is a magnificent creature...er, plant. Because it has learned that, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to turn inward and focus on what matters most. In this case, its roots. And if it does so during those months where being a tree is a difficult thing to do, then soon enough it realizes that the spring sunshine is just around the corner.
So trees don't give up. They don't wither and die in those cold winter months. Instead they forget about that showy canopy and focus on the roots. And if they do, soon enough they are rustling in the summer sunshine once again.
So, the moral of this story is: there is a season for everything, and sometimes it's not only okay but imperative that we focus on our own roots..our writing (our stories). If we can leave the worries of this business behind for just a little while, it makes all the difference when it is our time to blossom.
So go ahead. Be a tree. I, for one, won't call you crazy, even if I am a little weird.
Okay, fine. I'll stop waxing eloquent and tell you what I learned.
But first, I should explain a few things. The first is that, yes, I am guilty of being a nature lover. I do watch trees. For fun.
The next explanation is this: yes, I'm weird.
Now that we have those basic facts out of the way, let's get to what I learned by watching a tree. This should delight all of you, unless you are devout tree haters, in which case I don't think we can be friends anymore.
So, today I was watching a tree as it shed the first of its autumn leaves. It did so in front of a stream of middle-schoolers and their parents, but I doubt anyone (except me) noticed. It quietly let go of some of its showy canopy and retreated inside.
And I realized how similar I was to this tree. How all of us who are writing for publication are like this tree.
No, I'm not losing my leaves. Bear with me here...
You see, being an author, especially one with an online presence to maintain (which, last time I checked, was just about every writerly person on the known planet), is pretty much like a tree in summer. Our showy canopy glitters in the sunlight for the world to see. We preen and rustle in the wind, and people see us and say, "Gee. That tree...uh, author...is PRETTY." And we like the attention, and we realize how much we love what it is we do.
But then something happens. It could be that we have a book hitting the shelves, and we realize we are terrified of the reviews. Or maybe we are in the middle of a first draft and we realize we have written the worst draft ever in the history of the written word. Or it could be that we receive our one-hundred-and-forty-seventh rejection from an agent--and it was THE agent for us; the one we had placed the last of our hopes and dreams on. Or it could simply be that we realize we are tired of the business of writing. Whatever it is, we start to lose a little of the love we had of being a writer. And, before we know it, we've retreated from the world.
Now, you are probably wondering why on earth I would share such a depressing story. This isn't my usual earth-shattering, amazingly inspiring posts, you are thinking to yourself. In fact, you are ready to take the tofu burger and fries that you are eating and squash them into your computer screen in the hopes of forever blotting out the drivel you just read.
But if you did, then you'd miss the other half of this post.
And that is, that I have learned more from watching a tree.
You see, I have learned that a tree is a magnificent creature...er, plant. Because it has learned that, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to turn inward and focus on what matters most. In this case, its roots. And if it does so during those months where being a tree is a difficult thing to do, then soon enough it realizes that the spring sunshine is just around the corner.
So trees don't give up. They don't wither and die in those cold winter months. Instead they forget about that showy canopy and focus on the roots. And if they do, soon enough they are rustling in the summer sunshine once again.
So, the moral of this story is: there is a season for everything, and sometimes it's not only okay but imperative that we focus on our own roots..our writing (our stories). If we can leave the worries of this business behind for just a little while, it makes all the difference when it is our time to blossom.
So go ahead. Be a tree. I, for one, won't call you crazy, even if I am a little weird.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
She'll be coming to Seattle when she comes...for Kidlit Con!
So, yes, it's true. The lovely folks at Kidlit Con have graciously extended another invitation for my blogging buddies from that other blog and me to speak to the attendees. We won't tell them how crazy that idea is, because...SHHH...
...come closer...
...we don't want them to know that I'm just making things up as I go along.
*whistles*
Anyway, This year, it's all about group blogging, and I am thrilled to have some bona fide smart people speaking with me: the very talented Rosanne Parry and the amazing Katherine Schlick Noe. I think we were invited to speak because of them, quite honestly.
So, for those of you who might be coming, make sure to stop by and say hi. I'll be the one up on stage, for an hour, at least.
Now, I must pack. Where are those clear Ziploc bags for my things, anyway? They are all the rage at aiport terminals, I hear.
...come closer...
...we don't want them to know that I'm just making things up as I go along.
*whistles*
Anyway, This year, it's all about group blogging, and I am thrilled to have some bona fide smart people speaking with me: the very talented Rosanne Parry and the amazing Katherine Schlick Noe. I think we were invited to speak because of them, quite honestly.
So, for those of you who might be coming, make sure to stop by and say hi. I'll be the one up on stage, for an hour, at least.
Now, I must pack. Where are those clear Ziploc bags for my things, anyway? They are all the rage at aiport terminals, I hear.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Mixed-Up Middle-Grade Skype Tour has left the driveway!
So, many of you know about that other blog I work on. I try to keep the two blogs separate, since I know not all of you are middle-grade authors or have middle-grade kids.
Well, I'm breaking my "never the twain shall meet" rule today. You're just gonna have to deal with it, I guess.
That's because, on rare occasions, we do these really cool, super amazing, lots-of-love-and-work-involved projects to help get books (and their authors) connected with middle-grade readers. And it just so happens that today is one of those days.
Today our Mixed-up Middle-Grade Skype tour begins!
Each season a group of middle-grade authors donate a full-fledged Skype visit to a school, group, or club. And this time around we have the following authors:
Sarah Aronson (BEYOND LUCKY)
Tami Lewis Brown (THE MAP OF ME)
Kathy Erskine* (MOCKINGBIRD)
Bruce Hale (CHET GECKO MYSTERIES)
Uma Krishnaswami (THE GRAND PLAN TO FIX EVERYTHING)
Erin Moulton (FLUTTER)
Jennifer Nielsen (ELLIOT AND THE PIXIE PLOT)
Tricia Springstubb (WHAT HAPPENED ON FOX STREET)
*Yes, you'll notice this National Book Award winner has graciously donated a Skype visit. I want to be just like Kathy when I grow up.
So if you know of anyone who might be interested in winning a visit with one of these middle-grade authors, please send them to this blog post about our giveaway.
And please spread the word via Twitter, FB, G+, or your own blog. You can even link to this cool YouTube video all about our project:
Well, I'm breaking my "never the twain shall meet" rule today. You're just gonna have to deal with it, I guess.
That's because, on rare occasions, we do these really cool, super amazing, lots-of-love-and-work-involved projects to help get books (and their authors) connected with middle-grade readers. And it just so happens that today is one of those days.
Today our Mixed-up Middle-Grade Skype tour begins!
Each season a group of middle-grade authors donate a full-fledged Skype visit to a school, group, or club. And this time around we have the following authors:
Tami Lewis Brown (THE MAP OF ME)
Kathy Erskine* (MOCKINGBIRD)
Bruce Hale (CHET GECKO MYSTERIES)
Uma Krishnaswami (THE GRAND PLAN TO FIX EVERYTHING)
Erin Moulton (FLUTTER)
Jennifer Nielsen (ELLIOT AND THE PIXIE PLOT)
Tricia Springstubb (WHAT HAPPENED ON FOX STREET)
*Yes, you'll notice this National Book Award winner has graciously donated a Skype visit. I want to be just like Kathy when I grow up.
So if you know of anyone who might be interested in winning a visit with one of these middle-grade authors, please send them to this blog post about our giveaway.
And please spread the word via Twitter, FB, G+, or your own blog. You can even link to this cool YouTube video all about our project:
Thanks for sharing if you do. I really appreciate it!
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