Show and Tell

A Toast of Sorts

2010-12-13T12:41:00.007-05:00

'Ello lovely readers,

I have been MIA recently. My apologies. Days keep flying, and before I know it, another week slips by. No comments on other blogs, no post on mine. The truth is, I'm going to take a breather from this blogging thing. Mentally, I have already started this breather--but it feels good to type that out. More official.

This blog experience has been encouraging, challenging, eye opening, freeing, and all sorts of other ings. You all are so incredible. I have turned to your blogs when I needed someone to say "keep going." I have read your success stories--little reminders that, yes, people still get published. And yes, it's usually a windy journey.

I will possibly contribute to another blog one day soon. If so, I'll put a link to that blog here, before officially closing this one out. Thank you for being part of this blog and my journey so far on this writing road. You rock. I toast you (with eggnog) blog reader, and wish you a very merry Christmas. May your New Year bring all sort of happiness! You have brought plenty to me.

No Safari, Lots of Stories

2010-11-24T19:44:00.004-05:00

I did not go on a safari in Africa. But I did write! Words just poured out of me there. The smell of campfires, the red dirt, the little hands reaching up to clutch yours... so much warmth. Anyone would feel like an artist surrounded by such beauty.

I tend to romanticize things. I know this. But I am not romanticizing the beauty of Malawi. Yes, many of the children I interviewed had faced harsh realities: hunger, abandonment, death. Yet they cling to, and reveal, so much beauty, peace, hope, all that. This astounds me.

Writing their stories enlivened me. I was a little nervous at first--switching hats from fiction writer to journalist. But it didn't matter. A story is a story, and each child's demanded to be told. Have you ever felt like a part of something way bigger than yourself, your writing? Um, yeah, I felt that pretty much all the time.

Someone asked me today if it all felt like a dream. Not yet. I still catch wisps of remembered sounds and sights that serve as a little pinch. No, you weren't dreaming, Sam. Yes, the children you interviewed were flesh and blood--stories made real.

Above is a picture of one such story: the Chokadala triplets. You can read about them here: COTN. If you get a chance, cruise around COTN's website. As someone who has been there, I can say that child sponsors really are changing lives. The kids have pictures of their sponsors taped above their beds, treasure their letters, pray for them... okay, sales pitch closed.

Missed you, lovely readers! Happy Thanksgiving, and I hope it's all kinds of fantastic!

So Long States!

2010-10-26T14:10:00.004-04:00

I have never left the country. (The farthest from home I've flown is New York, which sort of did feel like a foreign land.) But that's about to change, my friends. On Sunday, I am waking up when it's still basically night, chugging a chai latte, and journeying to Malawi, Africa... with writers!

In Malawi, our band of writers will work with Children of the Nations (here!), a movement of people who care for orphaned and destitute children, empowering them to create positive and lasting change in their nations. Empowerment! I love that.

Our part in this movement is to tell the stories of children whose lives are changing through COTN, and to encourage COTN staff and older teens who are interested in writing. This second part is especially thrilling for me. My friend Heather and I went to Starbucks the other day to discuss the format of our creative writing workshop. As we chatted about the elements of story (i.e. characters, plot, setting, theme, etc.), I got this tingle of anticipation. Who will be listening? What stories are bubbling inside them, ready to spill onto the page? Eeee!!!

In Africa, I won't be able to post on this blog. BUT, I will be posting on this one (here!). I'll miss you guys and plan to post again the week of November 15th. I'm leaving you with a pic of a pic of Tenneh Kanu, a girl Jon and I sponsor through COTN. Yes, that pencil is staged.

A Poemside Chat: Take Two

2010-10-19T14:57:00.004-04:00

I haven't started a new story yet. It's not there, and I don't want to force it. So... poetry! That's right, my friends. When the story is still wisps and smoke and not quite graspable, I say, "'Ello inner poet, bring your quill and enjoy some Moosetracks ice cream with me." Here is the inner poet's latest creation:

Phoenix

By Samantha Bennett

Beauty,

Tucked in the ashes,

Hidden among the smolders,

Glowing and remembering,

So bright, so free.

Memories,

Harden and form,

With dashes of light,

Swelling from the dust,

Unfurling, like petals from a bulb,

A phoenix.

Why I Quit

2010-10-13T20:56:00.004-04:00

I quit reading a book tonight. Gulp. I feel a TAD guilty doing this. Now that I'm pursuing this writing thing, I have a better idea of how much work goes into creating a novel-length story. So even though this writer will never know I abandoned their story, well, I still send a silent sorry their way.

I've talked to people who rarely, if ever, quit stories like I do. They hunker down and read until that last period. No matter what. But then there are readers like me, who you must woo to keep engrossed in your story. Which got me thinking... What keeps persnickety (read: loveable) readers like myself invested from start to finish?

Here are my big "must haves" in a story:

1) Sympathetic characters. If I don't care about the characters... Oooh, I wonder if we have any ice cream.

2) A well-paced plot. If I haven't encountered any action or big events in the last few chapters... Hmmm, maybe I could call so-and-so.

3) Some substance. If the story is all frosting and no cupcake... So, I wonder if the library is still open.

What about you guys? Are you committed readers or do you require wooing like myself?

A Forever Type of Read

2010-10-05T20:15:00.005-04:00

Sign of an awesome book: you rush through the door post-run and you're still sweaty, thirsty, and wheezing as you pick up the book to start a new chapter. This was my yesterday. The book was The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen (here!).

You know how certain stories just feel so human? This was one such story. It read like life--heartbreaking, unpredictable, hilarious, all that. And there is a cute boy in it. Always a plus.

So many times during this read I related to Macy. She struggles with perfectionism and, um, *raises hand*, so do I. Throughout this book, Macy discovers that life is messy, and that messy can be freeing. That's what I'm learning too.

Which makes me wonder... Are certain books more powerful for us based on our lives at the time? I think so. I think we carry all our life stuff and dump it onto the pages of a story. But that's what I love about reading. It's interactive. It's a give-and-take, push-and-pull experience. Authors like Sarah Dessen get that, and they let you fill in lots of blanks as you read.

I try to keep that in mind as I'm writing. But it's so tempting to explain everything to my readers, to make sure they're getting it. What do you think? As readers and writers, how much of you goes into a story?

Fresh Snow

2010-09-28T12:32:00.004-04:00

As a kid, I loved waking up after a night snowfall. The yard was a blank page. Untouched. Sparkly. Fresh. I would stand at the window and breath in the glittering canvas of opportunities. Snow men? Angels? Tracks and tunnels? I could create whatever... and then huddle inside with some hot cocoa.

I still love blank pages. There is something so relieving, so invigorating about a slate wiped clean. A fresh start.

That's where I am in writing. Brainstorming sequels, plotting new story ideas, meeting new characters, and admiring a white page without a single word on it. Eeeeehhhhhwsha! *an internal noise made to signal extreme excitement* I feel lighter. Ready. So, 'ello New Story. Welcome to my world. I'll make you some hot cocoa, and then we can chat while I plot my snow angels, tracks, and tunnels. That's what a blank page is for, right?

Take One

2010-09-21T17:03:00.003-04:00

I write for teens. This thought is never far from my mind when I sit down to type. I spend a lot of time thinking about teens--and the teen still left in me. :) Through my writing, I ask questions of Teen Sam, wrestle with her, and strive to provide encouragement, hope, the stuff that stories address way better than lectures.

It's these musings that led to my vlog idea. Ask people one question: what would they tell the teen version of themselves?

My faithful friend Ashley offered to be my first interviewee. Brave girl. I hope you enjoy our chat... and incessant mug clanking. (The mugs are actually filled with water. Our secret.)

A Bittersweet Taste

2010-09-14T15:49:00.004-04:00

I mailed my manuscript in last Wednesday. *jazz hands* On the drive home, I felt thrilled. And sad and relieved and listless and exhausted and energized and... Um, a lot of feelings. I had spent the last month in a hardcore let's-get-inside-this-character's-head quest. As a result, my character and I became close. So much so, mailing the manuscript felt a lot like a goodbye. (I may or may not have told this main character that I will miss her and love her always. Out loud. Because she needed it. Yup, we'll go with that.)

Explaining this hodge-podge of emotions to others proved tricky. Wasn't I glad? I had finished! Well, yes, I was very glad. But also a little sad. Why the sadness? Because I had released my baby into the big blue world where people might not get her--and might even straight-up reject her. To create is a risky affair. But I guess people say that about living too.

I'm wondering if you have ever experienced this rainbow of emotions. If so, I'm offering you an online pat on the back. You can share some of my Moose Tracks ice cream.

P.S. Highly recommend checking out Heather McCorkle's blog. (here!) She is a rockstar writer with a positive approach to pursuing publication. (How's that for alliteration!)

Sometimes You Need a Big Stick

2010-08-31T21:48:00.006-04:00

Dear Writer Working Through Revisions,

My, you're looking attractive. That frizzy hair? Those red-rimmed eyes? Adorable. Simply adorable.

I know your brain feels like mush. I know having conversations with other human beings is tricky. You've put so many words on paper, how can you be expected to speak them too? In a cohesive order, nonetheless? This is a challenging task indeed.

Take heart, my friend. I have a suggestion to de-mush your brain. And the hair? Well, that will remain frizzy. Shut your laptop and go outside. You can do it. Just for five minutes, even. Take a walk. Preferably with a big stick. Your brain will thank you.

Sincerely,

Fellow Writer Working Through Revisions

(Me with Big Stick)

A Poemside Chat

2010-08-24T21:43:00.002-04:00

'Ello lovely readers! Today I want to share a little somethin' somethin' I wrote in the way of poetry.

Bathed by Samantha Bennett

In the shadow world she lives,
A fallen, lonely place.
In the dark
She clutches a match and strikes light.
A thousand little fires on the countryside.

She scurries,
From pit to pit,
Wrestling to keep the fires in check.
The flames lick, stronger, brighter
Until their tangled light is her horizon.

She moves to flee,
To escape the flames of her hand.
She fights, stumbles,
Her charred skin howling.
Beyond the bend, she spots a seaside lit with stars.

Burns from the fire throb,
Reminders of her fallen world.
But under the jewel sky,
Light tastes so divine,
She tosses her match into the waves and lets the moonlight bathe her skin.

For Bella and Edward, Press Play

2010-08-16T19:55:00.007-04:00

I've never been a huge book listener. Reader? Yes. But no one has read me a story in... two decades-ish. Based on that very precise time frame, I can assure you it's been a while. All that changed Sunday afternoon.

On Saturday, a wise woman in my writers group suggested I listen to Twilight via CD. Since my WIP is also in first person, she thought it might help me to hear--versus, read--how much time Meyer spends in Bella's head. Always up for a library visit, I checked out the CD two hours later with plans to listen to it the next afternoon.

When I got home Sunday, I stared at the CD for a long moment. How exactly was I supposed to do this? Should I sit at the table? Lie on the couch? Hmmm... Mulling over this highly important decision, I made a glass of lemonade and chose the couch.

CD in place, I pressed play on my circa-1990 boom box and listened as a smooth woman's voice began the tale. Meyer's words lulled me into her world, and I closed my eyes to get a better picture. But that felt weird. I obviously don't close my eyes while reading. Keeping them open, however, also felt weird because I had no idea where to look. I tried gazing out the window, but we have lots of wasps in the courtyard; I kept wondering where their nest was hidden. Distracts easily? Um, yes.

In the end, I discovered that I enjoy closing my eyes while entering a new world. Too bad you can't swing that with paper books. I also discovered how often Meyer spends time inside Bella's head. What richness that adds to a story. Writing exercise successful!

What about you guys? Any writing exercises that nudged you out of your comfort zone?

To the Fort We Go!

2010-08-11T15:32:00.006-04:00

I like research now. Despite the years of notecards and highlighters, we've made up. The fight is over. Because Monday was a day of research and Monday was awesome. My current WIP takes place in Fort Lauderdale, a place I visited once in high school. Then, "experiencing the locale" involved sunbathing, re-applying spf 45, and more sunbathing.

Monday's experience was a bit different. Jon (my husband and quite possibly the most patient man in the world) and I made the 3-hour trek to Fort Lauderdale on a mission! Several u-turns later, I (read: Jon) had found all the rights spots and answered every question off my check list. What's more, I stood in the warm sand and admired the same waters as my character.

That kind of research--the kind that connects you with your character--is the rich stuff of writing.

Here are a few pictures from our trip to the Fort!

Candy-colored hotels.

A potential hangout spot.

Ahhhhhh.

A Question or Two

2010-08-03T11:36:00.004-04:00

This week, I've ridden a talking horse, raced across a gritty dessert, and stood close enough to feel the whiskers on Aslan's mane. In short, I've been in Narnia! A lovely place, if I may say so myself.

There is so much to love about these stories, but here's how the words of C. S. Lewis truly captivate me: they raise questions. Lots of them. Will the kids make it to the castle in time to defend it from the bad guys? (holds breath!) How can Aslan be so good, yet so wild and untamed? Could I betray the others like Edmund did?

My favorite stories raise tons of questions; they keep me invested as the plot unfolds and the characters inch closer and closer to my heart. The questions seep through my walls and, inevitably, invite me to question some aspect of myself. What would I do in that situation? Have I ever felt that terrified? That trapped? That ecstatic?

The kind of fiction that sticks with me rarely offers pat answers to the questions raised. Instead, the story invites, challenges, and lifts me to a summit where I can see beyond what I could see before. That experience can be thrilling, scary, encouraging, jolting, etc. Regardless, it's an experience worth having.

What about you? Do you think questions are important in stories?

A Glass Wall Hall

2010-07-27T10:16:00.007-04:00

25 minutes is an odd amount of time. That's the exact time chunk I had in between meetings yesterday. I could have driven home, stayed for approximately three minutes, and then left again... but that seemed ridiculous. So I drove down to the lake, the same lake that a glass wall reception hall sits beside. Jon and I threw our wedding reception in that hall.

I pulled up close and peered through the glass walls. Time evaporated. I was in my wedding dress again, and Jon and I had an open sea of possibilities before us. I could taste the candy canes we had scattered on the tables, see the twinkle lights on the Christmas trees, and feel Jon's strong arms around me as we twirled around that wooden floor. You know the song from My Fair Lady, "I could have danced all night?" Well, that comes to mind.

As I sat in my car, watching the sun shine through the hall in soft slits, I felt a surge of emotions. I marveled at how a simple reception hall could hold the power to transport me in time. And that got me thinking... What would hold this kind of power for my character? A place? A song? The smell of a certain perfume? I want to know. I want to lay it bare for my readers, letting them into my character's world with honest abandonment.

What about you? How do you tackle this characterization thing?

By the way, check out Carrie Harris' blog if you get the chance. Her book, Bad Taste in Boys, comes out in 2011!

On Multitasking, Yoga, and Arrested Development

2010-07-19T11:22:00.010-04:00

Notice how writers are required to do lots more than just write? We tweet, we blog, we Facebook (is Facebook a verb yet?), we read, we critique, we ________ (fill in the blank with preferred filler activity, i.e. walking around your neighborhood with a large stick). In short, we multitask.

For me, "multitasking" reminds me of a word you would find in an orientation packet, like "synergy." The very thought of multitasking brings to mind manila envelopes, cold conference rooms, and PowerPoint presentations. Eeek! Let me out of the office!

In actuality, multitasking is not confined to an office. Or even a formula. I'm starting to realize multitasking can extend beyond the idea of performing several activities at once, to the concept of planning for several activities throughout your day. (However, I do go through my Yoga routine while watching Arrested Development on Hulu. I love you, George Michael! Can we count that as multitasking?)

Eeek! Planning! I can't escape it. I even own a planner now. Who am I?

What about you? How do you manage the many roles you fill in a day?

By the way, have you guys checked out Kiersten White's blog? Her debut novel, Paranormalcy, comes out this fall!

Tick Tock

2010-07-13T16:13:00.005-04:00

As a person with impatient tendencies, I usually get annoyed when someone says "give it time." Time? What time? That's so vague. You know what's not vague? Now. Now is oh-so-clear and present and all-around fabulous.

But as I trudged through the revision process on my manuscript this winter, "now" wasn't working. My main character still had lots of pain, lots of questions, and little resolution. Oddly enough, so did I. So I took a major writing breather (two months, people! two months away from my baby) to sift through Sam-stuff.

When I came back to the manuscript, I finally understand the deepest layers of my MC's pain, and how her healing would come about. That time away? Crucial for clarity. I needed to, gulp, give it time (she admits grudgingly). If I had tried to push forward regardless of timing, my character would miss out on the bucketfuls of healing I can now pour all over her.

So, okay. Maybe there's something to this timing thing. What do you guys think? Have things had to play out in any particular timing for your writing to soar?

All or Nothing

2010-07-07T16:11:00.004-04:00

Let the waiting commence! Since mailing out my manuscript last week, I have officially entered the has-she-read-it-does-she-like-it-will-she-toss-it stage. This stage, for me, involves lots of BBC murder mysteries (my husband and I once discussed dressing as Poirot and Hastings for Halloween), outside time, and... reading!

I don't read much when I'm in the midst of major writing or revising. I've never learned how to manage the two. I'm either ALL reading or ALL writing. And now that I'm taking a writing breather? Let the reading begin!

So far, I've visited Narnia in my reading travels. What a fine chap C. S. Lewis was. His stories are straight-up magical; so much so, I want to reach out and clutch Aslan's mane like Susan and Lucy. After this read... I'm open to suggestions! What books do you guys recommend? Also, I'd love to know if you read lots while writing or take the all-or-nothing approach like me. :)

Celebration Hair

2010-06-29T15:29:00.008-04:00

(Posing with my lovely friend. I'm the non-pregnant one.)

Hello all! If you read my post last Tuesday, you know this week is very yippee-ish for me. I mailed out my manuscript last Thursday! Hurray! *Running in circles, jumping up and down, talking in an especially loud voice, doling out high fives to husband, friends, strangers.*

In this same spirit of yippee, I tried posting my first vlog. I did my hair, wore makeup, actual clothes as opposed to pajamas, all that. (I don't anticipate future vlogs will get the same treatment. It's like school. On the first day, you wear your fancy-pants outfit. By the end of the year, you're driving into the parking lot with wet hair. At least, I was.)

But Blogger and I had a fight and now it won't upload my video. Grrrr... I'll try to post the video later, but I have no idea when Blogger will feel friendlier. SO, I'll summarize my video: I chopped off my hair! Eeee!!! (See above picture proof!) After mailing my manuscript, I celebrated with a trip to the salon.

I'm a big fan of celebrating. This writing thing is hard, slow, and, for me, brimming with rejection. That's why celebrating the little victories is so crucial. Otherwise? I would probably write all sorts of gloomy stories where my main character never realizes her dream. That is, if I kept writing at all.

So, I urge you to celebrate along the way! For me, that meant a trip to the salon. And chocolate. Always chocolate. How do you guys celebrate?

Crunch

2010-06-22T10:19:00.006-04:00

When I closed my laptop last night, I had stains on my tank top, bloodshot eyes, and the kind of frizzy hair that only comes from long bouts of revising. Why the crazy art teacher look? What happened to living all balanced? Well, my self-imposed deadline for mailing my manuscript is Thursday. That's in two days. Bring on the frizz.

I talked to my sister yesterday in the midst of this revision mayhem. Warning: phone conversations should not be attempted three days before a self-imposed deadline.

"I think I might come visit in August," she said.

"Coconuts," I said.

A pause. "Why are you talking about fruit?"

"I'm a little out of it."

"Yeah, I sort of figured that out."

I don't anticipate phone conversations to get any easier until post-Thursday. But I'm almost done!!! Did I mention that? Yippee!!! I love you, Manuscript, I really do. But it's time for someone else to read you now. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Promise. Just part of the process.

Some Old Roommate Love

2010-06-15T15:13:00.006-04:00

As a freshman in college, I lived with the coolest girls in Orlando. And Florida. And quite possibly the entire globe. For example, we once wore feather boas to a Mexican restaurant and watched Calender Girls in the same night. All sorts of cool.

Last weekend, I got to see these lovely ladies for a beach day reunion. There was lots of sunbathing, ice cream, laughing, a knarly pre-thunderstorm walk, and heaps of old pictures.

At different times, each of the girls asked me about my writing. Now, I usually feel a little self-conscious discussing my story because, well, I'm still working on the same manuscript one year later. My pace already feels slow. When I say it aloud? Even slower.

But these girls didn't mind my snail-esque pace. They wanted to hear all about my writing. They listened, asked questions, cheered me on, and totally reminded me why freshman year was such a blast. One of them even wrote this on my Facebook wall: "I am so proud of you for writing and pursuing that dream. So many people want to but never give it a go. Keep it up!" Um, have I mentioned how much I adore these women?

As a writer, I need lots of encouragement. It sort of bothers me how needy I am in this department. The actual process of writing is such a solitary activity, but I fail miserably if I don't then open it up to others. Whether through critiques or friendly encouragement, I need others with me on this path (hopefully!) toward publication. And if they want to wear feather boas, all the better. :)

What about you? How have you been encouraged lately?

The Traveling Sponge

2010-06-08T13:53:00.003-04:00

This weekend, I get to don an I-will-actually-wear-this-again-because-it's-so-cute bridesmaid dress and watch one of my best friends since childhood get married. Yippee!!! Parties, old friends, hotel room service... what's not to love? (Okay, I probably won't order off the room service menu because it's ridiculously expensive. But still. It's nice to know that if an emergency arose and I absolutely needed a chocolate shake, someone would promptly deliver it to my room.)

The wedding is in Kansas City, a place I visited a few times during my pre-writing days. But now that I'm pursuing this publication thing, travels are a little different. I'm a sponge. What if I'm walking down the same street as a future character? I notice smells, catch the vibe, watch the people, note any oddities that make a place particularly unique. Basically, I turn the knob on my observational tendencies to the max.

Can you guys relate? Have you ever fallen in love with a place, knowing you will see the same setting again in your story?

On Dumping Info

2010-06-02T18:14:00.003-04:00

I had a 30 minute conversation yesterday with a very kind olive planter named Tony. Why was I talking to an olive planter, you may ask? (Please do because I'd like to answer!) Well, I'm tightening my manuscript to resubmit, and I wanted to verify a few facts. But as I listened to Tony talk about his life's passion, I forgot about verifying facts and pictured ways I could weave more information about olives into my story.

Heady with thoughts of silver leaves and smooth oil, I rewrote my olive orchard scene and had my love interest orate all the knowledge I had just learned. Here's the problem: my love interest wouldn't offer that much information. About anything, really, but especially not about olives. Also, explaining the history of olives didn't add to my characters or plot in a meaningful way. The info--however interesting to me--didn't belong in my story.

So I deleted my additions and focused on polishing the bit of olive info that did fit in my manuscript. Hitting that backspace key HURT. I had to take a break after and secretly apologize to Tony. Do you guys have the same problem? As a reader, I can usually spot info dump and it irritates me. But as a writer? That backspace key just looks cruel.

Brainstorming Buds

2010-05-25T16:41:00.003-04:00

If we're not willing to brainstorm, our novels won't progress much. Solving puzzles, exploring options, asking "what if?"... these are all integral parts of the writing process. For me, brainstorming is one of the most freeing aspects of storytelling.

During a brainstorm session, I give myself permission to write down whatever flows through my head. This typically leads to all sort of mundane, not-at-all-clever thoughts scribbled on a page. At Starbucks, I once listed all the drinks you could order there. Helpful? Um, not so much. But it's brainstorming. Anything goes!

Last night, I brainstormed with a fellow writer via phone. She was trying to pen down her main character's story-worthy problem and wanted to invite a new perspective into the conversation. Our talk went bueno. We've always shared a natural rhythm, a give and take when it comes to communicating that cements an ideal brainstorming foundation. In the past, I too have called her when I need to talk out a story bump.

I'm wondering how you guys feel about opening your story to another's opinion. It's one thing to present a written manuscript to a critique group and quiet another to invite someone into the brainstorming stage. Do you prefer to keep your baby locked from outsiders until she's grown up a bit? Or do you invite others in during incubation? Would love to know your thoughts!

Why Hello There

2010-05-19T16:02:00.000-04:00

I introduced a new character to my story last week. This wouldn't be a huge deal except that I've spent years with my other characters. Yup. My main character and her entourage have shared space in my brain since the beginning of 2008. This new character? Approximately one week.

I feel a little sorry for NK (new kid). I wonder if she feels like a guest actor on a TV show. Wouldn't it be intimidating to join an established cast with all their inside jokes, easy rhythm, and chemistry? I like to think the other actors would reach out to the newbie and make her feel comfortable. Which is what I'm trying to do for NK.

Even though she's fresh to the scene, NK is meshing well. I like the added flavor she brings to scenes, the way her personality grates against another character's. It's cool to see how one added ingredient can change the entire overall tone and texture of a creation. For that, I want to hug NK and tell her I love her and assure her my manuscript will feel like home soon. Promise.

What about you guys? Are you wary of bringing in new characters or are you okay with upsetting the scale?

Cleaning Closets

2010-05-05T09:45:00.004-04:00

I felt like I was on the show What Not to Wear on Sunday. I met up with my sister-in-law Jessica (check out her blog to see some brilliant photography!), and my friend Ashley for some Target shopping. Fancy? Heck yes. My favorite part of the trip was watching Ashley. With Jessica's gentle nudges, Ash veered away from safer options and tried some more daring outfits that totally matched her sparkly personality.

Then came phase two. At Ash's request, we headed back to her house for a good-old-fashioned closet cleaning. Jessica took her stance in the closet. I took my stance on the bed. (Please note that I, martyr that I am, assumed the stance that involved lounging and lots of pillows.) Section by section, we worked through Ash's stuffed closet. When Jessica found a faded t-shirt circa 1998, Ash balked.

"But YOU gave that to me, Jess," Ash said.

"When?" Jessica said.

The answer was sometime in middle school.

As Jess explored Ash's closet deeper, she found tons of off-beat, cute clothing we had never seen Ash wear. Some still had price tags. Because of all the clutter, Ash had simply forgotten the more Ashleylike clothes were even there.

That got me thinking about revising. It's a similar process. Discarding the old so what remains shines all the brighter. Chiseling away, piece by piece, to expose a story's glittering underbelly. Of course, there's the occasional simile (or comfy sweater) we keep because, well, we NEED it. And isn't it still pretty? And doesn't it make us all sentimental just admiring it?

By the end, Ash had became quite the pro closet cleaner. And the clothes remaining definitely represented my vibrant friend. Even Stacy and Clinton (hosts of What Not to Wear) would have agreed.

Weird Writing Friends

2010-04-27T16:05:00.005-04:00

First, I would like to give a huge thanks to Wendy Ramer for awarding me the oh-so-shiny-and-pretty Stylish Blogger Award. (See, shiny AND pretty.) Thank you, Wendy! I can't take too much credit for this award, as I know nothing about graphic design and hired the fabulous girls at RV Designs to beautify my blog. Who doesn't appreciate a company with an RV in their logo? Really, that's brilliant.

Here's where I get to pass this award on to three stylish bloggers:

Jennifer Daiker at unedited--love her vintage backdrop
The girls at Sisters in Scribe--the feather pen feels so Austen-esque
Molly Hall at Writer Mama Dreamer--like the backdrop and hummingbird combo

Check out the their links and Wendy's!

Ahem, and now I am switching gears. Yes, that was my transitional statement. Which is allowed because I am now, officially, stylish. (Er, my blog is anyway.) SO, last night I hung out with H, a good friend and fellow writer. During dinner, our talked turned to characterization, voice, all that story stuff. Ten minutes later we were interviewing each other in character. Meaning, I would ask H a question and she would answer as her main character.

Somewhere between eating my sweet potato and answering questions as a fictional person, I realized this might be strange. Since I grew up doing theatre--where crawling across the stage during drama exercises is completely normal--my meter of strangeness is a little off. I voiced my concern to H and we both acknowledged the oddness of the situation. And then we continued the interviews.

Don't you love having weird writing friends?

Unfinished Business

2010-04-20T11:16:00.010-04:00

For years, I felt this deep angst when I thought about my unfinished manuscripts. They were hard-copy examples of my failure, proof that I could dream... but not do. Whenever people asked about my writing, I would smile and nod and say something like, "Oh, it's definitely a process." Only my works in progress weren't actually progressing.

Then I heard an author talk about how many false starts she had before finishing her first published manuscript. She accepted this as part of the process. (I wish I could remember this woman's name because I seriously owe her a cookie bouquet.) Her words freed me. I stopped looking at my unfinished WIPs as trash; instead, I saw them as paint on my pallet, tools I needed to complete my future work of art. Each project had taught me tons about the craft of writing.

I have since learned how to finish manuscripts, adding even more paint to my pallet. I'm hoping my whole life will be a process of collecting colors in order to create more vibrant creations. And, man oh man, does that relieve some anxiety. While I don't think it's wise to justify a chronic inability to complete a writing project, I do think it's healthy to give yourself room to explore and breath in this writing thing. And that may mean a few unfinished manuscripts lingering on your laptop or in your desk drawer.

Girl on a Hot Shed Roof

2010-04-12T13:46:00.004-04:00

I locked myself out of the house. Yup. Through the window, I could see my keys, rebellious, not at all where they were supposed to be. I could also see my beloved laptop and outline note cards. So much for an afternoon of working on my manuscript. Or maybe...

Maybe the sliding glass door upstairs was unlocked. I surveyed the shed, which came pretty close to the balcony, and decided to make the climb. I stepped onto the fence and pulled myself up. Seconds later, I was crouching on the shed's roof on all fours. Unfortunately, the gap between the shed and balcony looked way smaller from the ground.

I admitted defeat and climbed back down. My friend H (who is fabulous and generous and a mean badminton player) came and picked me up. We went to Panera where I spent the whole afternoon separated from my laptop. After the initial mourning period, I relaxed and did a different kind of writing. On blank note cards, I wrote about the events of my last week, how I felt about everything, all that. I spilled my guts via pen. Cathartic? Um, yes.

I don't do that very often. Since I'm a fiction writer, that's mostly what I write. It took physical separation from my laptop for me to switch gears. I'm wondering if any of you journal. If so, do you find it helpful? Do you ever draw from journal writings when you create a story? Or maybe you're like me--someone would need to lock up your laptop first. :)

A Turkey Scavenger Hunt

2010-04-02T16:00:00.003-04:00

I called my sister as soon as I got in the car. "Mo," I said. "You are not going to BELIEVE what just happened in the grocery store." I proceeded to tell her the following story.

My shopping trip had gone perfectly normal until I got to the register. As I was setting my purchases on the conveyor belt, I realized I was missing a pound of turkey. I checked the bottom of the cart, the ground, my purse... no turkey.

"What's wrong?" the cashier asked me.

"Um, I'm missing my turkey. Could you hold my stuff for a second? I'm gonna retrace my steps."

"No problem," she said, and I set off on my turkey scavenger hunt. Unfortunately, I had chosen this specific night to pick exactly one item from every section of the store.

"Have you seen a bag of turkey?" I asked an employee in the milk section. "I lost it." I felt like a character in a picture book. Any second I'd learn a moral.

"Nope," he said, openly grinning, not at all trying to hide his amusement at my loss.

It wasn't until I looped back to the deli/produce section that I spotted my bag of turkey lying on the bananas. Even now, I can't tell you why I left my turkey on bananas. Apparently it was a good idea at the time.

I rushed back to the register where the cashier was waiting with a smile.

"You found it?" she asked.

I slapped the bag onto the conveyor belt. "Found it. On the bananas."

"Hmmm," she said.

"No idea why," I answered.

After I told my sister this story in the car, there was a pause of silence.

"Why didn't you just have the deli slice you a new pound of turkey?" Mo asked.

I blinked. "I didn't think of that."

And I didn't. Not once during my turkey quest did it ever occur to me there was another solution to the problem.

As a writer, I usually see my story from one particular angle. It's my comfy angle, the one I've worn down a bit. So when I discover a plot hole that needs fixing or a character that's falling flat, my first instinct is to approach the problem from my comfy angle. But sometimes (read: most of the time) what I need most is a brand-new angle.

That's why it's so fantastic to have a critique group, friend, sister, someone look at your story with fresh eyes. They can save you from heaps of backtracking by introducing you to Shiny New Angle. Soon, Comfy Angle and Shiny New Angle merge into this fabulous ah-ha! moment. Eureka! Your writer's block is cured, and you didn't waste time backtracking around your manuscript--or the grocery store. Whichever the case may be. :)

Revealing My Cards

2010-03-31T17:47:00.004-04:00

Okay, I can drop my poker face and reveal the answers!

1. (I've taken over eight years of Spanish and still can't speak it fluently.) False. I've taken more like five years of Spanish and, alas, I am far from fluent. Although I like to pretend that I am. Often.

2. (My dad has played the Kool-Aid Man.) False. My sister concocted this truly-80s lie as a kid and her teacher actually believed it. At parent-teacher conferences, the teacher even asked my mom what it was like being married to someone in the entertainment industry. :)

3. (I was been bitten by a cottonmouth snake when entering my courtyard.) False. I was bitten by a snake in my courtyard but it wasn't a cottonmouth. And bitten might be a tad generous description. I had fang marks but no insertion point. Ick!!!!! Just thinking about that memory makes me squirm.

4. (I've been in the musical Oliver! three separate times.) Nope. But I have been in the show twice. "Please, sir, can I have some more?" "MORE?"

5. (I've played Capture the Flag within the last year.) I wish! Capture the Flag is by far the most fabulous game ever. Anytime I'm with a large group of people and I sense they might go for it, I make the suggestion. Sadly, it's been over a year since my last game.

6. (I've dressed up as dental floss for Halloween.) Ding ding ding! True! In middle school, I dressed up as dental floss and my friend Stephanie dressed as toothpaste. My costume involved a large box and rope tangled in my hair. Stephanie wore a cloth-covered bucket on her head. Cool? Oh yeah.

7. (I read the Twilight series in a week.) True! After watching the movie, I practically ate those books. Team Jacob. That's all I have to say about that.

8. (I watch White Christmas two times a year.) Nope. Great movie, great tunes, but I only watch this once a year. "Sisters, sisters..." I could definitely handle some of those costumes. :)

Thanks for your guesses and thanks again to Nicole @ One Significant Moment at a Time for this fun award!

Poker Face

2010-03-29T12:54:00.007-04:00

So, Nicole @ One Significant Moment at a Time gave me the Creative Liar Award--which is actually very sweet of her. Thanks, Nicole!

The rules of this award are to write six lies about myself and two truths. Your job is to guess which ones are true. I am so thankful this little game happens on a blog instead of face-to-face. I've played a similar game in person and my poker face is horrendous. Like, burst-into-laughter-when-you're-lying horrendous. Here goes!

1. I've taken over eight years of Spanish and still can't speak it fluently.

2. My dad has played the Kool-Aid Man.

3. I was been bitten by a cottonmouth snake when entering my courtyard.

4. I've been in the musical Oliver! three separate times.

5. I've played Capture the Flag within the last year.

6. I've dressed up as dental floss for Halloween.

7. I read the Twilight series in a week.

8. I watch White Christmas two times a year.

I'd like to pass this award onto some of the first writing bloggers I started following:

Stephanie @ Stephanie's Blog

Kristan Hoffman

Heather @ Heather's Odyssey

Abbi @ Breathe and Write

So did my poker face hold? Can you pick the two truths from the lies? I'll reveal my truths on Wednesday (trying to stick to a M, W, F posting schedule!). I hope you'll check out the bloggers' sites linked here!

When It's a Red Lobster Night

2010-03-25T14:30:00.000-04:00

The first time J (the husband) and I tried making mashed potatoes, we wound up with a very starchy soup. Since this experiment, we've created a few successful meals. For example, we make a perfectly edible chicken pesto pizza. And burritos. I have nearly twenty years of experience blending beans and cheese on tortilla shells. (In fact, my friend and I ate so many burritos as kids we actually made up a song about beans and cheese. But that's another blog post.)

Since J wasn't working last night (yippee!), we decided to make a meal together. Yesterday evening, I looked up a few recipes online that would incorporate the mahi mahi we have in the freezer. The recipes I found either involved anchovy paste, a bazillion spices we don't own, or soaking the fish in some substance for two hours. Um, I started looking up recipes at 6:00 pm and J would be home around 7:00 pm. Plan much? Totally.

That's when I remembered the Red Lobster gift card in my wallet from Christmas. I texted J: Merry Christmas! He picked me up an hour later and we had a real-live date night. AND I got a whole hour of writing time. Cheesy bread and an extra hour of chapter edits? Win-win, my friends.

Maplessness

2010-03-19T16:50:00.007-04:00

My sister Mo is in town, and we decided to make Wednesday an official beach day--despite the cloudy, cold weather. As we drove down A1A, raindrops hit my windshield. I assured Mo the drops were "sea mist," not to be confused with rain. Rain is not allowed on beach days.

Even though the sky looked ready to spill the entire time, my sister and I got nearly two hours of layout time. We then hurried to the car, because really, you can only handle goosebumps for so long before you need Starbucks.

Thus began our adventure: a search for Starbucks. As I drove down the Cocoa Beach strip, I was shocked by the absence of green awnings. Really, Starbucks? I thought you were taking over the planet.

Mo and I merged onto 528 and then did what any freezing, caffeine-deprived girls would do--we got off on the next exit. Starbucks couldn't be far. We curved along back roads, passing overgrown palms, pastel beach houses, and approximately five elementary schools in a 2-mile radius. Even though Mo had a general idea of the Old Florida area, I loved our maplessness. I felt spontaneous, adventurous, like the kids on The Goonies.

Eventually, we found a main road and a Barnes and Noble with a Starbucks inside. But honestly, I enjoyed our scavenger hunt way more than my chai latte. Adventure--big or small--captivates me. I think that's one of the reasons I enjoy writing and reading. In books, stakes are constantly rising, tension tightening from one chapter to the next. I LOVE that.

But I also think it's good for me to shut the book, close the laptop, and go make some adventures in the real world. Real life stuff recharges me, and I definitely want my writing to read as charged. What about you? How do you balance real-life adventures with made-up ones?

My Corner

2010-03-13T16:04:00.007-05:00

I moved to a new school in fourth grade. The kind of school where everyone else had known each other since kindergarten. While I found the transition a bit tricky, this school had a major redeeming factor: the library. No joke. This library had a massive fairy tale section, bean bags speckled throughout, and one very sneaky corner with a padded window seat.

This seat was hidden from view by giant bookcases. I spent hours in that corner, happily sojourning with brave characters in exotic lands. My favorite stories usually involved female knights, dazzling sword fights, journeys at sea, desperate lovers, wicked kings--bring on the twists and turns!

I HATED when the bell rang and I had to return to class. That meant trading my beloved book characters for kids I didn't know very well. One time, I just didn't get up when the bell rang. I stayed put and wanted to hide in my corner the rest of the school day. Unfortunately, my teacher noticed my absence. Knowing my tendencies, she called the librarian and asked her to search the library. The librarian eventually found me, but she looked a little guilty about it. She chatted about the power of stories the entire time she escorted me back to class.

It's good for me to remember that padded window seat. My hours spent there directly affect my time spent now. Authors captivated me in that oh-so-cool library, so much so, that I now want to create the same experience for someone else. Preferably as they sit in their own secret corner.

What about you? What are some of your first book memories?

Tricking My Brain

2010-03-09T22:19:00.003-05:00

I majored in Psychology. When people hear this, they typically say, "That degree must work well when you're writing characters." And it does, to an extent. It's good to know personality traits, matching tendencies, all that jazz. But honestly, I rarely think, "So-and-so is such a sanguine!" Still, I do apply a particular lesson from my psych studies to writing.

Senior year, I took a class called Neuropsychology, and our teacher loved talking about the power of rewards. He explained that our brains crave rewards. That's why kids behave like little angels for a mere sticker. It's a reward! Thus, it's awesome.

During the writing/editing process, I have all sorts of rewards in place. For example, if I write 1,000 words, I get to Twitter it up. If I edit a chapter, bring on the blog visits. Of course, there are some things I never use as a reward, since they shouldn't be dependent on my writing progress. But many activities (read: eating chocolate) are definitely fair game.

What about you? Do you every play mind games to keep the word count coming?

Ahem, Contest Announcement!

2010-03-02T10:00:00.004-05:00

'Ello all and a happy Tuesday to you! The lovely Guinevere at This Is Not My Day Job is holding a contest for her 101+ followers. Go to her blog to check out the details and to possibly win All Unquiet Things by Anna Jarzab or Scones and Sensibility by Lindsay Eland. Or a fancy handbag. Because writers need books AND style. :)

Good luck!

Muscular Forearms

2010-02-25T23:27:00.006-05:00

I have gone skiing, tubing, and running with people way faster than me. So I know what it's like to wake up and, thanks to soreness, discover muscles in your body. But I have never had sore forearms. Until now.

Three days ago I decided to be social and escape manuscript revisions for a couple hours. J (the husband) and I headed to our church's gym to volleyball it up. I hit the ball a few times and was thrilled when it actually made it over the net. I liked the team aspect of volleyball and started to relax. But then it came my turn to serve. Oh my word. Why is the white line so very far from the net? Who came up with that idea? Some power-hungry referee? "You know what would be fun? Let's have a person stand on one end of the gym and make them hit a ball all the way to the other side of the room. That would be entertaining."

When I finally figured out how to fling my arms in the exact formation to send the ball over the net, I discovered a whole other component of serving: aim. Just because the ball goes past the net does not mean it will be in bounds. Nope. There are other white lines that mercilessly limit your chances of a successful serve.

Luckily, I was playing with very patient people. They let me serve, re-serve, and serve again. They did not mock my weak forearms. With their coaching, I even hit that one perfect serve. The one that started behind a certain white line and stayed between two other lines. Victory! Of course, the next time I served it didn't go over the net. But still. There was that one sweet moment. And I get to remember it every time I move my forearms.

Note cards, it's not you. It's me.

2010-02-23T22:12:00.002-05:00

Note cards and I have officially made up. After years of ill will between us, we are on the road to reconciliation. And I have Mr. Bickham and his book Scene and Structure to thank. While meeting with my writers group last Tuesday, I discovered some serious structural issues that needed addressing in my YA sci-fi. Hence, a Wednesday trip to Barnes and Noble to purchase Scene and Structure.

Mr. Bickham is a fan of note cards. In fact, he wants you to have a note card for every scene in your book that discusses the scene goal, conflict, and disaster. He also expects a card for every sequel--those strings that connect your scenes. Well, if you read this post, you know about my previous aversion to all things research. Including note cards.

On Thursday, I made a trip to Walmart and grudgingly tossed a few packages of note cards into my shopping cart. I would give Mr. Bickham's method a shot. One shot, to be exact. At home, I pulled up my WIP, played Gilmore Girls lightly in the background, and broke open the cards.

At first, I stared from blank note card to manuscript to card again (repeat process). But then I actually used my pencil. As I wrote down certain elements--scene goal, conflict twists, disaster--the scene cemented in my mind. I even made a few tweaks to raise the stakes, adjust pace, etc. The next card was easier to fill out.

Now, nearly a week later, I have a thick stack of scenes/sequels and a solid grasp on my story. Yay for note cards! They are welcome in my shopping cart any day.

What about you? Do you outline before you write? After or during? Are there any particular books on the craft you recommend?

Research Via Golf Cart

2010-02-17T20:31:00.009-05:00

I wrote my first research paper in the third grade. The topic was Chinese footbinding. In the spring, I titled my big project Cloves: The bloody history. (Opting for "bloody" over "spicy," third-grade Sam preferred to shock over amuse.) As a fourth grader, I went more mainstream and researched the fascinating lives of kangaroos.

Given my early/over exposure to research, I developed a deep aversion to notecards, highlighters, encyclopedias, and the Dewey Decimal System. Sorry Dewey. This, ahem, distaste, stuck with me for years. So much so, that my first manuscript was a MG fantasy completely void of any researched elements.

Since writing that manuscript, however, I've had to confront the "r" word. I have olives to thank for that. And a golf cart. While writing my first YA, I wondered if you could grow olives in Florida and searched the web. I found the Olive Branch Tree Farm's website, and after clicking through pictures of olive trees, I craved more. I wanted to touch the silver leaves, taste the fat olives, smell the sandy soil, all that jazz.

So J and I visited the farm. Anthony, an olive expert and very patient man, drove us down rows and rows of olive trees, answering all of my questions. I took some notes, but since I had a tape recorder, I spent most of my time listening to Anthony talk and enjoying the view. On the seat of that golf cart, I redefined research--well, research for this particular writer.

Research is experiencing your story in the flesh. It's exploring scenes with your senses so your characters can too. Granted, this example shows a very limited scope of research and writers of historical fiction do way more than visit olive groves. But it's a start. And it's a step up from numbering notecards related to Chinese footbinding.

What about you? What is your stance on researching before writing or researching in general? Have you ever done anything fun as a result of research?

Roller Skates and Free Drinks

2010-02-12T11:37:00.014-05:00

The first thing I noticed was the metal detector. Apparently roller rinks have changed since the last time I went skating--ten plus years ago. After buying our tickets, my friends and I walked through the metal detector, chose our skates, and laced up. As I awkwardly rolled/stepped toward the rink, I could barely contain my excitement. Lights danced on the floor. Music flooded the room. Flashbacks of blissful birthday parties at Skate East, Wichita's finest rink, came to mind.

For the first few laps, my legs wouldn't stop wobbling. I fell a couple times but decided that was just part of the learning curve. Bit by bit, my legs strengthened. Several songs later, I was even roller dancing (def: flailing your arms in interpretive gestures while preferably remaining upright). When the the DJ announced speed races for the 18-and-up group, I prepared to dominate. I followed J (a.k.a. The Husband) and some of our friends onto the rink. There were about fifteen racers total. I was the only girl.

The horn blared and I took off. Almost everyone flew by me. I lowered my body and swung my arms, making up techniques as I went. Since it was just one lap, the race didn't last long. Everyone beat me except for J. And I have sneaky suspicion he stayed behind in case of further fall-idge. Given my less-than-stellar performance, I was shocked when the DJ in the striped shirt handed me a free-drink ticket.

"But I didn't win," I said.
"The winning guy and girl both get a free drink," the DJ explained with a grin.
"Oh." Laughing, I took the ticket. "Want a drink?" I asked J.

Minutes later, J returned from the refreshment stand. Even though his drink was only slightly larger than a dixie cup, I admired my trophy with satisfaction. Walking through the metal detector was totally worth this.

Laser Tag

2010-01-31T22:38:00.004-05:00

I fastened my vest. I lowered my chin. I positioned my gun, fingering the trigger. The lights dimmed, the music soared. My heart ticked faster and faster. This was laser tag. The stakes? Respect.

"It's go time," someone whispered nearby. I took off running. Where? I had no idea. Strategy? Despite discussing tactics with the resident laser tag veteran, I had no idea. Everything I'd learned faded to the background as my adrenaline rushed forward.

My vest swung from side to side, banging into my rib cage. I gritted my teeth and reminded myself that this was war. Well, er, tag. But still. Laser tag. I pointed my gun at everyone I saw. "I'm on your team!" someone reminded me, running by. Right. Same color, don't shoot, I repeated silently.

That's when I realized I was prancing. And laughing. I shook my head to refocus. After ramming into an opponent, squatting in corners to wield the element of surprise, and even throwing a few over-the-shoulder shots, I strode out of the arena in a confident daze. Surely I had dominated. Surely I had left the other players dumbfounded by my grace and agility. They would discuss my mad skills in reverent tones for years to come.

Then I read the score card. My name was not in first place. Nor was it in second, third, fourth, fifth... My plan: laser tag birthday party next month. Redemption is near.

A Nashvillian Surprise

2010-01-26T09:46:00.014-05:00

The mission: B and Sam drive from Orlando to Nashville to surprise E. Before crossing the Georgia state line, B and I were already brainstorming surprise specifics. We decided strolling up to the door and saying "hi" was far too obvious. So, when we reached E's neighborhood, we parked and B wrote a note saying, "There's a surprise waiting for you under the stairs." Which is all sorts of creepy. I told B to draw a smiley face to lesson the disturbing factor. Instead of drawing a regular one (you know, two dots and an upturned line), she drew an actual face that was smiling. Even more creepy.

Disturbing note in tow, we snuck to E's apartment. B hid under the stairs while I laid the note on E's welcome mat. Then, I knocked and sprinted down the stairs, tripping but moving in a general downward direction. I reached our hiding place just as E opened the door. (See picture.) B and I waited as E read the note, probably panicking. But then she saw us through the stair slits. Success! She was shocked. We laughed, we hugged, we savored the moment of surprise.

As you can see, I LOVE surprises. That's why I'm story obsessed. My favorite part of reading or writing is unraveling a story to its end. After reading a page turner, I sit back and enjoy the satisfaction of knowing. Same goes for writing a manuscript. When my characters yank me in unplanned directions, I write like crazy to find out where they're headed. So, as important as the revising process is, there's nothing quite as magical for me as penning that first draft.

What do you think? How important is the element of surprise in storytelling?

All Ears

2010-01-21T13:34:00.008-05:00

My friend H and I went for a run last night. Normally we meet at Starbuck's to write it up. But H recently moved to my side of town and we decided to add running to our list of buddy activities. On our run, we didn't talk about writing much. When you're gagging on air and regretting the sandwich-and-chips-combo you downed ten minutes ago, you can't talk about much of anything.

A few months ago, the silence would have killed me. Sanguine that I am, I usually feel compelled to fill in blank spaces. How was your day? What's new with your life? What's your favorite color? Any question or comment will work. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, filling silence, but I'm discovering that thinking time is not wasted time (as Madeleine L'Engle discusses in her book Walking on Water). Just because H and I didn't talk, our time together was no less valuable.

Writers need thinking time. Apart from reading or writing time. Time where we don't fill in the blank spaces, but instead, we revel in them. That's where stories live, I think. So, starting today, I want to be more deliberate about calming down enough to listen. Hopefully it won't take a lack of oxygen induced by running to keep my mouth shut.

What do you think? How imperative is thinking time to the writing life or life in general?

'Ello Web World

2010-01-20T19:14:00.005-05:00

Big day today. I finally joined the league of bluebirds and decided to blog it up too. Blogs and tweets are supposed to taste better together, so here goes! My posts will cover writing, daily happenings, that sort of thing. Many posts will relate to the quest of getting published. Hope you enjoy!