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Saturn Ring Blues

That's a pretty unwieldy title for the post!

I was thumbing through the January/February Analog this morning and read Richard A. Lovett's article, "Making Unreality Ring True: Writer's Tricks for Bringing Stories to Life." I was a little surprised at it because the article is a straightforward how-to-write piece, something I don't recall seeing in Analog much in the past.

That said, it was a darned good article for fiction writers of all sorts, not just science fiction ones. With entertaining examples, Lovett explains the basis for five writing rules that will make work stronger and more believable:
 

1. Write what you know.
2. Know what it is that you know.
3. Make good use of details.
4. Look for details in experience (yours or other people's)
5. Collect information. You never know what will someday be useful.
 

Near the end of the article, he says, "The best writers observe things. Sometimes these are details about the universe. Sometimes they are grand visions that instill the sense of wonder about which science fiction fans wax lyrical. Other times, the observations take the form of details about people or the lives we live: overlooked realities that ring true as they float across the page before us."

Lovett quotes Jane Kurtz, an award winning children's book author, who said, "Writers have good powers of observation. That's more important than imagination."

I tell writers in my classes and workshops that the skills necessary to tell believable stories are exactly congruent with the skills required of a good liar. Good liars, among other things, are masters of the specific detail, the one bit of their story that rings so specific and true that you believe there's no way they could have made it up. Their story must not be lying.

The article is a good one.  If you can get a copy of the magazine, I recommend it.

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Thoughts on NaNoWriMo and Writing Process

  • Nov. 10th, 2009 at 9:14 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
The always thoughtful [info]lmarley is teaching a writing workshops for teens next week, and she posted her thoughts about National Novel Writing Month.  She asked, "How does this exercise teach you how to 'learn and master' style and craft and pacing? If you don't revise, rewrite, edit, and examine, what improves?" 

Her questions got me thinking about the value of sprinting through a 50,000 word month:

I don't think the NaNoWriMo helps much at all with craft and pacing, but I do think there is some value in discovering voice. One of the big problems I see with wannabe writers is that they just haven't produced much, and what they do produce is overthought. Where I see this most clearly is in my creative writing classes where I have them keep 1,000-word-a-week journals. The stories they turn in can be tortured, stilted and mechanical, but their journals often have passages (sometimes very long passages) of smooth, readable, interesting and even compelling language.

I think the difference comes from their mindset and the process. When they are writing for me, they are thinking about all they know about writing and about me as a critical reader. They seize up, write slowly, and kill their voice. But when they write in their journals (especially after we've been doing them for a couple of weeks), they are writing quickly and for themselves.

NaNoWriMo puts writers more into that journal writing mindset. It's okay if it's bad. It just has to be done, and in the midst of trying to get it done, passages with real voice emerge. What they learn from the process is not only to get words on the page, but also to write from a more direct place in themselves--not the heavily filtered place where they normally wring their sentences.

The editing that comes later will be about picking out the good, adjusting the not so good, and tossing away the bad, but they can't do the editing if they don't produce something to edit first.

The cartoon is from the very funny writer and artist, Debbie Ridpath Ohi.  She has lots of other insightful writing illustrations at her site.

Novel Writing Joy

  • Nov. 6th, 2009 at 6:46 AM
Saturn Ring Blues

I'm not a veteran novelist.  In my career as a writer, I've written two complete novels and two significant chunks of novels that I haven't completed yet.  Most of my experience is with short stories, so, while I was writing this morning, I realized how much I'm enjoying the exploratory nature of novel writing.  I feel like (at least in rough draft) I have room to poke my imagination into the corners of my character's lives.  The writing is less pressured in some ways.  In a short story I'm always driven by the idea that every single word has to be bent to the story's ending.  Short stories are about unity of purpose, but the novel doesn't feel that way to me.  Maybe it's because the novel's purpose accretes more gradually than the short story.

In the end, I believe, every word of a novel has to work the same way every word in a short story does.  The words have the same responsibility.  But while I'm composing in the novel, I don't feel the pressure.  I quite enjoy the sensation.

Below the cut you'll find a bit from this morning's writing.  One of my view point characters, Anitchka Paraskevi, a second year teacher at Low High, is talking to a veteran teacher in the building about her classroom.  Comments welcome.
 
**********

Work in Progress from Low High Sophomores )

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Suite101

  • Nov. 5th, 2009 at 6:49 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
Philip McIntosh wrote a very nice article about how I balance writing and teaching at Suite101.

Every once in a while I'll do an interview via e-mail, and then I'll forget about it.  The article is often a nice surprise (since I've never had anyone interview me and then do a hatchet job--knock on wood).

Right now I'm at my desk at school.  It's 6:45.  Lately I've been using a half hour or so of my time before school to push the novel forward, but at the moment I'm so sleepy I can hardly keep my head up.  My Diet Coke caffeine delivery system is failing.  I need a more radical jump start--a jolt of Red Bull or something.  I wonder if that stuff is more effective if it is mainlined?  Maybe I could turn up some Led Zepplin real loud.

First Signing!

  • Nov. 4th, 2009 at 3:19 PM
Saturn Ring Blues

As I reported earlier today, I handed out the chapbooks with students' poems and short stories in the Write-a-Book-in-a-Year Club at the high school.  The kids were really eager since they had expected the books last week.  We celebrated with donuts, cookies and soft drinks.

The new wrinkle this year is that I told them that it is traditional at a book launch for the author(s) to sign the books.  I taught them the etiquette of signing: If someone asks you to sign a book, you ask if they would like it personalized or not.  We talked about what might go into personalizing a signature, like asking how to spell the fan's name or what to say along with the signature (I often write, "I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I liked writing it"), and then they signed each others' books for fifteen minutes.

Much fun.

Five Music Lessons for Writers

  • Oct. 27th, 2009 at 10:05 AM
Saturn Ring Blues

Here is this week's blog entry for the Write-a-Book-in-a-Year Club at the high school.  It's great fun to put together these little essays of craft and the writing life for young writers.  The web is filled with so much material to share with them!  For this entry, I cruised over to Louise Marley's web site where I knew I'd find good stuff. 

If you haven't read Louise, you should.  I really enjoyed her short story collection, Absalom's Mother and Other Stories, and I'm looking forward to getting my copy of The Singers of Nevya, which contains three novels.

Here's what I shared with the kids:

The writer Louise Marley, who is also an accomplished singer, wrote about the five lessons she learned from music that apply directly to being a better writer.  It turns out that the practices necessary to improve in music are the same for a author:

  • Practice
  • Study
  • Be professional
  • Sing with your own voice
  • Persevere

Marley also stresses the importance of discipline for a writer.  As she says, “Discipline always works. An artist without it is doomed to fail. Great talent can draw attention right away; but the application of talent, the training and practice and organization, the honing and development of it, are what make it last. Talent without discipline is like a lightning storm; you never know when, or where, it might strike, and it’s a darned unreliable source of power.”

Read Louise’s entire essay.

Post your thoughts about her advice here
 

Saturn Ring Blues
I did the exercise with my Creative Writing class, and I made all kinds of discoveries with the kids.  One is that a conversation that has no intrinsic interest, is completely neutral, banal and dull when written without action, description or thoughts can suddenly become interesting if the surrounding words provide interest.

Here's the dullest dialogue exchange I could write:

"Hi."
"Hey."
"Sup."
"Nada."
 
Darned dull, right?  Exactly the kind of needless hello/goodbye social lubricant conversation I'd suggest should be cut from a story.  But it can become part of an interesting exchange like this:
 
     Captain Dangerous pulled the ray gun from her holster and leveled it at the alien's city.  "Hi," she said as her assistant joined her on the hill.
     The grim looking man set up the portable nuclear missile launch control.  "Hey."  He fiddled with the controls, not even looking at his boss.
     "Sup?"  Captain Dangerous pulled the trigger, directing waves of flaming doom toward the enemy of humanity's home.
     The assistant launched the first missle, sending it on its arching way toward another target.  "Nada," he said, his voice dripping with the boredom from having saved the human race for the umpteenth time in a row. 
 
I can take the same four words of dialogue and put them in a nursing home as a conversation between a pair of octogenarians who have fallen in love with each other, or between two strangers in a car, racing toward a cliff, or between two boys in a juvenile detention facility who loathe each other, etc.

My personal goal is that dialogue be interesting on its own, like the clever lines of a good play, but the exercise shows that neutral sounding dialogue can come out in an interesting way, if the context is good.

Punctuating Dialogue and an Exercise

  • Oct. 20th, 2009 at 6:57 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
Both my Creative Writing class and the two sophomore classes are writing short stories this week.  I want them to use dialogue, but dialogue is not a skill taught for any other kind of writing except for stories, and I realized I didn't have an exercise that addressed the punctuation problems.  So, in my unending pursuit of reinveting the wheel, I came up with this handout and exercise this morning.  I will undoubtably tweak it after you folks point out the glaring errors.  (I'm tickled by how my little example at the end turned out, by the way--I can see that it would be fun to play around with that, like rewriting it from Josh's point of view, or by having one of the characters furious at the other, or by having one of the characters trying to conceal a secret, etc.  Lots of possible variations)

I have several other dialogue related exercises, and, of course, a whole lecture devoted to the theory and practice of writing dialogue.

Punctuating Dialogue and a Dialogue Exercise

 

Punctuation rules:

 

-          Quote marks indicate that what is within them is exactly what the character said.

o   “Let’s go to the store for groceries!”

-          A quote mark introduces the quote and ends it, regardless of how long the character speaks. 

-          Ending punctuation marks go inside the quote marks.

o   “Larry is a great guy, but he can’t tell the truth.”

o   “Must you always invite your mother to go with us on a date?”

o   “I hope you brought the marshmallows!”

-          The dialogue tag is a part of the sentence that includes the quote. If the tag follows the quote, the first word is not capitalized. If the tag precedes the quote, the first word of the quote is capitalized.

o   “That’s a great car,” he said.

o   She said, “Would you put the cat out?”

-          A comma separates the dialogue tag and the quote. See previous examples.

-          A dialogue tag can interrupt a line of dialogue. When the dialogue continues after the interruption, the first word in the quotes is not capitalized. Notice the comma after the first part of the quote and after the dialogue tag.

o   “I wanted to see you,” Juliet said, “but my mom doesn’t like your family.”

-          In most cases, start a new paragraph when you change speakers, even if this creates very short paragraphs.

-          Do not put quotes back to back in the same paragraph so the quote marks are beside each other.

 

A Punctuation Exercise:

-          Choose a partner.

-          One of you will serve as a secretary.

-          Start a conversation:

o   Ask your partner a question.

o   The partner answers.

o   Follow up your question with another or a comment on the answer.

o   The partner replies.

-          Write down the entire conversation, punctuating it correctly but do not use dialogue tags or interrupting description, action or thoughts.  It might look like this:

 

“Are you practicing with the band tonight?”

“Yeah, we qualified for state, so we’re doing extra time.”

“Congrats! Where’s state this year?”

“Colorado Springs. The same place we did it last year.”

 

-          Now, rewrite it with interrupting description, action or thoughts before or after each line of dialogue. Be sure to punctuate it and paragraph it correctly. It might look like this.

 

Andrea tried to sound casual. “Are you practicing with the band tonight?” If Josh wasn’t busy, she would ask him for a ride home.

He smiled. “Yeah, we qualified for state, so we’re doing extra time.” His long hair had fallen across his eyes in a way that she found infuriatingly cute.

“Congrats! Where’s state this year?” She bit back her disappointment. He was always so busy!

Josh drummed his fingers on the table, probably tapping out the rhythm of one of their performance pieces, his mind clearly thinking about anything other than her.  “Colorado Springs. The same place we did it last year.” 


National Day on Writing

  • Oct. 17th, 2009 at 1:23 PM
Saturn Ring Blues

October 20 is the National Day on Writing.  This is an event that was created by the National Council of Teachers of English, NCTE,  “to help make writers from all walks of life aware of their craft.”  (Wouldn’t you think that a bunch of composition teachers would choose a more efficient way to name their organization, like calling it the English Teacher National Council and save the use of two “of”s?)  The U.S. Senate passed a resolution on Oct. 8, declaring Oct. 20 the National Day on Writing!

Colorado organizations are celebrating the day in a variety of ways.  The Denver Writing Project has linked to the NCTE who has created a gallery for writers to post their work at http://galleryofwriting.org/galleries/366137.  Anyone can post their poems, stories, etc. for the world to see.  It will go public on Oct. 20, but you’ll be able to post work until June of 2010.  Colorado has its own gallery at http://www.galleryofwriting.org/galleries/55020.

Douglas Hesse, the director of writing at the University of Denver and Colorado curator in the digital National Gallery of Writing, has written an interesting article about the future of writing in today’s Denver Post, entitled “Put Forth Our Best Writing Selves.” In it he discusses what he sees as the future of writing in a twitter, instant-message, chat board, text messaging, blog dominated reading environment.

We’re all writers.  What can we do personally to celebrate? If you're also a teacher, what can you do in your classroom on the 20th to celebrate your student's writing?

Writing Advice: How Do You Finish?

  • Oct. 13th, 2009 at 9:16 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
I got the following e-mail today:

Dear Mr. Van Pelt:
 
I am a senior in high school, and took out your book Strangers and Beggars out from the library.  I really enjoyed your off-the-wall stories, especially "Finding Orson,"  "Shark Attack: A Love Story," and "The Death Dwarves."  I was surprised to learn that you were also a teacher.
 
Truth is, I am an aspiring writer who also wants to be a teacher.  I try to write short stories  and longer stories occasionally but usually do not finish them. Can you give me any hints on how to finish my stories and on writing in general?  Thank you.
 
Here's my reply:

Thanks for your note.  I'm glad you enjoyed the stories.

I'm envious that you are working on your writing at such a young age.  I knew that I wanted to teach when I was a high school student, and I sort of had an inkling that I wanted to write too, but I didn't get serious about it until I was almost 30.

Finishing stories can be hard, but I found mostly that I couldn't finish stories because I was too willing to walk away before they were done.  What I do now, if I don't know where the story is going next, is I go back to the stuff I've already written in the story and work on that.  So, sometimes a writing session could be advancing the story by adding new words at the end, and other times the writing is deepening and improving what is going on in the middle.  Since I don't always pay close attention to description when I'm adding new words, it almost always is productive for me to go back and make the scenes more rich.

Some other writers would give you different advice about going back, by the way, since for some people going back is the death of the story.  It is possible to tinker around too much with what you've already written and never get back to telling the story.  Their recommendation is to plunge ahead.  Push yourself to keep going to an end, any kind of end, since the real work is going to be in the revision anyway.  You have to decide for yourself what works best (or you'll come up with something entirely different that works for you).

So, how would you answer this question?  Do you have sage advice to young writers on how to get to the end of writing projects?

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Watch Those Stereotypes

  • Oct. 12th, 2009 at 7:45 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
I received an interesting reaction to "The Radio Magician" today from our school librarian.  She's reading the collection and came upon this sentence in the title story:  "In the shadow of the room behind the door, he saw a secretary looking at him, a prim blonde with dark-framed glasses, like a librarian."

She went into a mini-rant about librarian stereotypes and how everyone thinks that librarians are frumpy spinsters who wear orthopedic shoes and are obsessed with silence. 

That is not the image that rises to my mind when I think about librarians since librarians are my favorite people.  I probably have a minor crush on the idea of librarians which came from watching The Music Man at an impressionable age (remember Marian, madam librarian?).

The conversation reminded me that when I try to write the words of the movie in my mind that those same words may play a slightly different movie in my readers' minds.  There's nothing I can do about it.  That's the imperfect nature of our ability to communicate and the shortcomings of language.

 

How to Have a Successful Book Signing

  • Oct. 11th, 2009 at 2:46 PM
Saturn Ring Blues
Saturday was my book launch signing at Hastings Books in Grand Junction.  I've done all my local book launches at Hastings because the book manager there supports local authors, and she's done all she can on her end to help make the signings a success, which includes contacting the newspapers before the event, putting up signs in the store announcing the signing a week before, ordering enough books (and some extra copies of my other books), setting up a comfortable and visible signing area in the store, and then checking with me several times during the signing to ask if I need anything.  She's a saint.

My signings in town have all been successful.  In each case the bookstore has been happy and so have I.  Every time I've mentioned how I did on line, though, I've received mail from other authors who either haven't had good signings, or they're getting ready for their first, to find out what I do.

I know why there are questions too.  I've been at signings where I've sat the entire time looking lonely and pathetic with a pile of books on the table and an unused pen in hand.

So, here's what I know:  The real secret to a great signing is . . . wait for it . . . to be Neil Gaiman. 

Being famous, popular and having reputation can do quite a bit to attract a crowd.  I know that sounds obvious and flip, but the fact that most authors are not famous, popular or have a reputation means that they need to help the bookstore make a signing successful.

Here's what I do:
  • E-mail an announcement of the event to all my friends in the area about a week ahead of time.
  • Contact my more distant friends and relatives who might be willing to have me buy the book for them at the signing (the more books the bookstore sells, the more likely they will be to let me do another one later).
  • Snail-mail postcard invitations to the same set of folks (some people remember e-mails better--some like to post a physical copy of the invite on a bulletin board.  Besides, the postcards are cool.  I make the template on my computer then get them duplicated on the very nice color copier at CopyCopy.  It's about a quarter a postcard.  I mailed sixty of them).
  • For this signing, I had a poster of the book cover made at CopyCopy.  It's a beautiful reproduction of the art.  At 18 X 28 inches, and mounted on foam board, it is visible from dozens of feet away and announces very visibly what I am signing.  I'll be able to reuse it at other signings.
  • Make sure the signing is in all the local newspapers' "upcoming events" calendars (this may duplicate some of the bookstore's work--we talked about who she contacted).  My contact to one of the newspapers generated an interview and article about me and the book.
  • Send a press release to the television and radio stations who cover the local arts scene.  In a couple of my signings in the past, the stations have covered it as a news event.  We're a slow news area.  LOL
  • Contact the local book clubs.  We have six of them in the Grand Junction area.  The bookstore provided the contact addresses.
  • Contact the local science fiction clubs.  We have two in the area.
  • Contact the local small press publishing association.  They have monthly meetings which I have spoken to a couple of times.
  • Contact the writing workshops in the area.
  • Contact the high school and middle school librarians.  The schools all have book clubs, and there are science fiction/fantasy fans by the bucketful in the schools.  I also have offered to do book/author talks to their groups.
  • Put up fliers at the public library on the community bulletin board.
  • Contact the high school and middle school English teachers who teach Creative Writing or Science Fiction.  I make the same book/author talk offer.
  • Put a postcard invite in the on-campus mailboxes of the college's English department faculty.
  • Put up fliers on the college student center community bulletin board and on the English department's bulletin board.
  • Let my students and parents at the high school know that I'm doing a signing.  Also announce it to the faculty.
  • Brought candy to the signing.  It's amazing how many people will approach to grab candy and stay to talk about the book.
  • Brought handouts for educators to the signing.
  • Brought handouts with a brief description of my other books.

As you can see, it is possible to do quite a bit more to promote a signing than just showing up at the bookstore at the scheduled time.  We sold out all the books yesterday that Hastings had ordered and then ten more that I had brought with me.  We also sold copies of my other three books, including one fellow who decided he needed a complete set of my titles and bought all four.

When I'm doing a signing, I try to be gregarious, approachable, and not a salesman for the books (pushiness is a turn-off, as is aloofness).  I talk to folks about the books they are carrying, what kind of stuff their kids like to read, and anything else that comes up.  The key for me is to stay engaged.  A book signing is not a passive event.

A signing can be a great opportunity to make contacts and/or set up more events.  This signing went so well that I was able to convince the books manager that she could do a group signing for local authors in early December.  The advantage of a group signing is that each author will attract their own crowd, but book lovers love books of all kinds, so more books are likely to be sold to folks I wouldn't ordinarily meet.

There are other strategies to use at book signings that I didn't use.  I didn't make bookmarks, for example (which I never have thought have been productive).  Nor did my family come to the signing wearing tee shirts with my book cover printed on them and a label on the back like, "The author's mother," or "The author's youngest son"  (I didn't plan that one--they did it as a surprise).

I think a signing is an opportunity to have a lot of fun, but it takes a little time and planning.
Saturn Ring Blues
Half the problem with helping writers to write better, and getting students to read better, with more sensitivity and awareness, is that poorer writers and readers are always looking at the forest and failing to see trees. For reading, this is particularly obvious for poetry. The poor readers want to understand a poem as a gestalt immediately and take it in in one great gulp instead of focusing on the nuances of word choice, the delicacy of line breaks and the appropriateness of figurative language. This is the same problem in reverse of the poorer writer who can't see that although a story or poem has a total number of words, the words have to be chosen carefully. Sloppiness and carelessness at the word choice and sentence making level produces unhappily unfulfilling work.

Whew, that's a long intro, and it sounds excessively theoretical, but there is a practical way to teach it, to help readers and writers.

One way is to do "found poetry" exercises. Found poetry is the taking of prose passages (like a newspaper article or a paragraph from a novel), and, without changing a single word or punctuation mark, recasting the words as a poem. I did this yesterday with my A.P. English kids and The Great Gatsby. Fitzgerald works particularly well for this kind of exercise because he is a rich/dense prose stylist. Putting line breaks into his prose reveals this. Here's an example from one of my students:

Again at eight o’clock,
When the dark lanes of the Forties
Were five deep with throbbing
Taxicabs, bound for the theater district,
I felt a sinking in my heart.

Forms leaned together
In the taxis as they waited,
And voices sang,
And there was laughter
From unheard jokes, and lighted
Cigarettes outlined unintelligible gestures,
Inside, imagining that I, too,
Was hurrying toward gayety and sharing
Their intimate excitement,

I wished them well.
 

Or this really interesting one another student made.  Notice that he used typography tricks to emphasize the lines:
 

A Story of the West

And the real snow,

Our snow,

began to stretch out beside us

and twinkle against the window,

     and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by,

A sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air.

We drew in our deep breaths of it

as we walked back from dinner

      through the cold vestibules

Unutterably aware of our identity with this country

for one strange hour

      before we melted indistinguishably into it

Again.


One of the very cool parts of this exercise is that as the kids typed them, I sat with them and showed them the effect of different line breaks.  Changing the break changes the effect in sometimes quite startling ways, and the kids could see it.  They were suddenly involved with language in a deeply specific way.  The writing of this novel was no longer a forest but a collection of really interesting trees.

As an experiment, I took a couple of stories still on my computer that were rejected from an editing project I was doing a year ago.  I looked for paragraphs that I could turn into poems this way but found they resisted the process.  As poems, they had numerous silly, empty lines that had nothing of interest in them.  Linking verbs, vagueness and cliches suddenly leapt out.  To stretch the metaphor, their forest, which seemed clearly diseased to me, was made up of a lot of sick trees.

Oh, and once again proving the genius of kids if you'll let them worry a problem long enough:  One of my students was trying to come up with a title for her found poem from Gatsby.  She'd chosen the moment in the story when Tom Buchanan discovers that his lover, Myrtle, has been killed by Gatsby's car (Daisy was driving, of course).  The student really was struggling, and I was just about to suggest that she entitled it "The Accident," but she found a nearby line in the text that worked much better.  You'll see what I mean when you look at the whole poem:

It Was a Yellow Car

He reached up on his tiptoes
and peered
over a circle of heads
into the garage,
which was lit
only by a yellow light
in a swinging wire basket overhead.
Then he made a harsh sound in his throat,
and with a violent thrusting movement
of his powerful arms
pushed his way through.

Writing Pace

  • Sep. 29th, 2009 at 9:52 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
Earlier today I said I was doing some "sprint writing" before school, which provoked an e-mail from a friend about what I meant. "Sprint writing," is a writing mode I shift into when I have a small space of time to use, or if I'm stuck. My tendency is to sprint in 250-500 word bursts, which can take anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes. If I sustained that pace I'd be nearly Lakeian in productivity, but most of the time I'm not in sprint mode.

I have another pace that is much more leisurely and contemplative when my writing time is open ended, say on a Saturday when the family is not in the house. That pace involves a fair amount of rereading, tweaking, and mostly small additions to the text at a time, like an insertion into an earlier scene or maybe just a new paragraph at the end before I'm back to rereading. If I'm really open ended, my writing time will be broken into chunks too. I'll write for thirty minutes, and then take a shower while I think about what I've done and what I want to do next. Then I'll go another half hour of writing before I'll go wash the dishes, back in thinking mode. I have a bunch of thinking mode activities to fold into the writing time: shower, dishes, lawn mowing, watering, cleaning, etc. Once, when I had all the time I wanted, I quit writing, climbed into the car and drove from Grand Junction to Delta and back (about 90 miles), so I could think my way through a problem.

By the way, when I'm composing, I never think of the last page of the draft as "the end" of what I've done so far; it is the leading edge. I like the image of me standing on the last paragraph of the manuscript so far, shining my flashlight into the blank space in front of me to see what I can see.

When I'm in the slow mode I sometimes kick into great bursts of language that can go a thousand words or so without interuption. That doesn't happen as much as I would like, though. Mostly I poke about at the 500-words per hour pace.

The funny thing is that I don't see a difference between the quality of writing when I'm sprinting or I'm in slow mode. Typos show up often when I'm sprinting, and I'm more likely to see a sentence like this one I wrote this morning: There’s twenty-two stones for children all under two who died within two months of each other in 1896.

I must have had "two" embedded in my brain as I wrote.

Do you find that you have different "paces" of writing?  Can you shift in and out of them?  Do you find some projects work better at one pace rather than another (like writing a novel as opposed to a short story or a poem?).

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Teacher Buffoonery: Student Language

  • Sep. 24th, 2009 at 8:32 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
Teaching gives me ample opportunity for embarrassing moments.  This morning's was a classic one.  My sophomores are writing personal reflection essays.  Today they were working on them in the library while I wandered from table to table checking the pulse of their writing.  One of the tables was filled with girls.  This is the honors class, a bright, funny, articulate lot.  I've learned to expect anything from them, so I wasn't completely taken aback when one of the girls asked me, "How do you spell 'do me'?"  

O.K., I was a little taken aback.  

But I plunged in anyways.  I explained that it was a colloquial expression, and that it was two words, not one.  I went on in this pedantic vein for about a minute before the girl said, "I mean like death and destruction.  Like an adjective."  Another girl at the table said, "Oh, you mean 'doom' with a 'y,' right?  Doomy?"

That's what she meant.   Argh!

Then, in the next period, I had a chance to hear student language making at its best.  We were talking about words that were difficult to rhyme yesterday, so a boy in the class had spent the evening, evidently, thinking about one of our tough rhyming words.  He announced that he'd solved one of our problem words with this poem.

When I think of you the world is purple
Because you are sweet like maple syruple.
 
Rat-a-tat-tat.


Saturn Ring Blues

I don't trust inspiration.  In fact, I barely believe in it.  Yes, it is true that occasionally the idea for a story has hit me almost fully formed, and that I've felt like a conduit for a flow of words so powerful that I could barely stand in the torrent, but in general, writing happens because I write, not because the gods have breathed something in me.

I like the idea that I'm in charge of my muse.  Here's how I took charge: I sat down to write without a clue of where I was going, but I didn't allow myself to get up until I'd written something.  The beauty of this practice is that almost always, by the end of ten minutes of writing, I'm "inspired."  Seldom do I get to the end of a ten-minute writing session where something interesting (to me) hasn't happened.

Those that study the act of writing tell me that writing is "generative," and I believe it.  I will get somewhere if I start writing.  I try not to overthink it.  Just write.

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Weak vs. Strong Writing

  • Sep. 18th, 2009 at 11:17 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
The sophomores are writing personal reflection essays, so I was talking to them about some of the features of weak writing vs. strong writing.  I could have easily said mediocre student writing vs. exemplary student writing, or, if I wanted to extend it, unpublishable writing vs. publishable writing.

The lessons are the same whether I'm talking to a room of 10th graders or facing a workshop full of earnest adults who would like to write publishable prose.

There is an entire discussion around each one of these categories, and writing is way more complicated and subtle than a simple table of weak vs. strong traits, but starting simple gives me room to move into the more complicated later.

Weak Writing
Strong Writing
abstract
concrete
vague
specific
telling
showing
literal
figurative
linking/helping verbs
action verbs
 
From what I've seen in the slush pile and what editors tell me, the most obvious problem with a majority of the manuscripts that are immediately rejectable does not reside in the quality of the story they are trying to tell.  The problems are at the sentence level.  The writers simply can not produce strong enough writing to be published.  That is why an editor can reject a story based on only the first page or two.

My chart doesn't contain everything, of course.  If I added more categories, I would do a cliche vs. fresh expression category next.  It's pretty easy to reject a manuscript if there is a "deafening roar,' or a "searing black," or the "unfathomable emptiness of space" on the first page because the language is depressingly familiar.  But I didn't want to get into that with sophomores on the first day of this essay discussion.

My Two Lives Intersect

  • Sep. 17th, 2009 at 3:56 PM
Saturn Ring Blues
Tonight is parent teacher conferences, unbelievably enough (it feels like school just started!), so I'm sitting in the gym at a banquet table that I share with another teacher, waiting for parents to talk to me about their kid.  This exercise goes until 7:30 tonight, and I'm already bushed.

The hope is that there will be some gaps between parents (like I have right now while I'm doing this post).  I'll add words to the novel in the gaps.  This is a perfect demo of what I talked about a couple of weeks ago about  using small snatches of time to write.  The atmosphere is chaotic, there are conversations going on around me, at any time I could be interrupted: it's like writing in a coffee house without the opportunity for a scone or hot chocolate.

Thank You Mr. H_____

  • Sep. 17th, 2009 at 6:02 AM
Saturn Ring Blues

On my question of why older writers would sometimes write a name by just using the first letter and then an underline, like "Miss B_____ came to tea," the consensus is best summed up by[info]kmarkhoover (Mr. H_____) who said, "It was a way to protect identities and sometimes to make the reader believe the place or person was real and needed to be protected,"  although I liked Mike Resnick's suggestions best: "The simplest answer is usually the best: they couldn't spell the names."

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A Writer's Obligations

  • Sep. 16th, 2009 at 11:09 AM
Saturn Ring Blues
John Scalzi being very funny (and accurate) about a writer's obligations.

As a much less visible author than John Scalzi, I mostly get asked to read student's novels outside of class, and, some times, years after they had me as a teacher.  Also, because the school where I teach knows that I write on the side, I'm the default secretary/historian to any meeting where I'm in attendance. 

Let me say now about that: yuck! 

Also, the school secretary asks me to edit her monthly newsletter too (I'm not a particularly good editor, by the way--I don't have that eagle eye for typos and other errors, as any regular reader of this blog can tell you). 

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