mystic-lit

November Hill Press Loves Readers! A Long Weekend of Fun and Freebies

2012-02-09T19:58:00.001-05:00

November Hill Press believes in the power of words, the importance of story, and the vision of the unique voice.

We also love readers, and in appreciation and celebration of St. Valentine's Day we've put together a weekend of fun.

Sometime on Friday February 10th, a light, whimsical, romance-filled short called Passion Flowers and Italians will go live on Amazon, and as soon as it does, it will go on free promo for 5 days.

On Saturday and Sunday, Signs That Might Be Omens will be free.

And on Sunday, claire-obscure will be free as well.

Friday through Wednesday, book one in the middle grade Magical Pony School series, Jane's Transformation, is going on sale for 99 cents. And remember: although this was aimed at middle grade readers, it has appeal for horse lovers of all ages.

There's something for everyone!

I think Passion Flowers and Italians would make a nice valentine. In fact, it's OUR valentine to everyone who has supported November Hill Press over the past year. We appreciate it, and we thank you!

thanks again to Dan Holloway and Eight Cuts

2011-12-12T09:32:00.001-05:00

for putting claire-obscure on this wonderful list. It's an honor to be included HERE.

And don't forget - books make wonderful gifts in any season!

and I'm guest-blogging at Workaday Reads today

2011-09-06T15:15:00.000-04:00

Come on over and say hello!

CLICK HERE.

Keith Cronin's terrific novel, Me, Again, launches tomorrow!

2011-09-06T09:10:00.000-04:00

Check out the book trailer. This is one of those books I have waited for and can't wait to read.

Interview today with Unbridled Editor!

2011-08-20T09:39:00.003-04:00

Come join me today at 1:30 pm EST. I'll be sitting in a chair under the big oak tree by the barn, talking with Unbridled Editor John Rakestraw about my novel, claire-obscure.

Direct link to radio show HERE.

eight cuts recommends claire-obscure!

2011-04-06T08:37:00.001-04:00

Coming out of hiatus to report that Eight Cuts has put claire-obscure on their "what we recommend" list!

Eight Cuts is an exciting literary gallery run by Dan Holloway, who says:

there is writing out there that will blow your mind. and you have no idea it’s there at all.

eight cuts exists to champion extraordinary literature from people you may never have been given the chance to encounter, be it a single poem, a performance or a body of novels

Check out the review of claire-obscure and then browse the site to learn more about Dan's work and all the writers he's promoting.

on hiatus

2011-03-21T09:39:00.000-04:00

With so much going on with books and November Hill Press, I've decided to put mystic-lit officially on hiatus. If you'd like to keep up with what I'm doing, come on over to camera-obscura and November Hill Press, where I write about living with horses and donkeys and about all the goings-on of starting a new independent press.

Right now I'm working on a series on the writing life over at November Hill Press. I'd love to see you all over there, sharing your own experiences in the writing journey.

on sale! claire-obscure and The Meaning of Isolated Objects!

2011-03-19T15:28:00.000-04:00

In celebration of the very soon to be released Signs That Might Be Omens, I've put two of my titles on sale at Amazon.

It's a great time to get them both if you're looking for literary suspense - click the covers to the right and go straight to the Amazon pages for more information.

You can get free samples of both at Amazon or go over to November Hill Press if you'd like to read excerpts there.

on editing the very last page of my novel

2011-03-08T18:10:00.001-05:00

This weekend I worked on the very most final edit of Signs That Might Be Omens. This novel was written two years ago and in addition to being workshopped and read by several trusted readers (thank you, all!) was able to sit and simmer, get edited, simmer longer, get edited again, etc. for a number of times between the day I finished the first draft and this past weekend when I aimed for the moment when I add FINAL to the word doc title.

And I am very close to doing just that.

But one thing I discovered when I got to the last page is that while the ending itself - i.e. the way the novel ends - is right, the ending - i.e. that final paragraph - is not.

I did one of those things we probably all do when I got to the end of the book. I typed in what I think of as a place holder paragraph. It had some of what I wanted to say in that last breath of the book, but when I wrote the first draft and got to the end, I think I was so ready to be finished I didn't take the time to actually flesh that out. Thus, the place holder paragraph.

I have tweaked the place holder paragraph with each edit, but it has remained trite and a summary of what I want the ending to actually BE.

All of the above is interesting because it is almost always true that I have the ending before I have the beginning when it comes to novels. But often, that ending is a visual scene, something to write toward, that gets me rolling with the story. By the time I get to the end, I realize that initial scene I was writing toward no longer fits, quite, so I have to adjust the end to fit what happened as I wrote.

In this case, that visual ending scene is earlier in the last chapter, and there is more to be said. So now I'm ready to settle into that last bit of the story and really write it. No more place holding. It's time for the real thing.

Signs will be available on Amazon in the next two weeks. I hope you'll come check it out and let me know what you think.

Meanwhile, how do YOU approach editing the ending of your work? Is it the same or different than editing any other part?

Sheaffer Donkey reviews Jane's Transformation!

2011-02-28T07:58:00.001-05:00

My dear friend Sheaffer has reviewed Jane's Transformation! What a treat to get his hoof stamp of approval.

You can READ IT HERE.

And of course, if you want to read the book itself, just click on the book cover on the sidebar to your right. Or do a search on Amazon.

Thank you, Sheaffer!!

what's going on in my writing world this week?

2011-02-26T17:17:00.000-05:00

It's been awhile since I posted here on mystic-lit, so time for an update on the writing life of one woman who considers writing to be necessary, serious work, a mystical journey, and a huge part of my daily routine. Even when I'm not typing words onto a screen, in some way or other, I'm writing.

You can see on the sidebar that I now have three books available on Amazon for the Kindle. (or for the free Kindle software you can download onto laptop, desktop, iPad, or smart phones of all kinds) Give them a try, and if you enjoy them, I invite you to write a review on Amazon. And to spread the word. I value readers and their thoughts. It's a large piece of why I write and why I embarked on the path of independent pressdom.

This has been the bulk of my writing work this year - getting these three titles formatted, covers designed, and up onto Amazon. Right now I'm doing a final edit on a fourth novel that will go up very soon. To flesh that out a bit, the fourth novel has been finished and edited several times already, but it's been sitting for awhile and because of that passage of time since I looked at the ms, it's being a real pleasure to read it with a fresh eye. I'm tweaking little things at this point, and enjoying the sensation of "did I write this?" It's a luxury to give a ms this much space and time. Although I'm really ready to get it up on Amazon, I'm not in a hurry to get through this last pass.

Next weekend is my monthly weekend writing group, so I'm already gearing up energy-wise for that process. Writing group weekends have grown to be "accelerator" weekends - we get a lot done, and the energy that gets stirred up is incredibly positive. If it weren't for these monthly weekends I'd never be where I am right now with November Hill Press. A big part of my writing life has to do with creating and sustaining a very personal community of fellow writers. This group is the most dynamic piece of that community for me, and really keeps me focused and working.

Other than the editing and publishing work I've been doing, I have a partially completed ms to finish, the first few pages of a new novel, and the complete outline of another novel. All of which are like the carrot on the stick for me - I love editing in general, but I'm ready for the free flow of first draft writing, and I'm careening toward being able to do that full time again in the next few weeks.

Marketing! This is the new piece to my writing life. I suppose you could say it is taking the place of the querying and waiting I had been doing. There was a several-year period where I had an agent and that was a different kind of waiting. That was official waiting. And although I was glad to be there while I was there, I'm relieved now to have something to DO. Marketing never ends, really, and although I'm learning the ropes and I'm not anywhere close to feeling savvy about it, it's fun. I have a lot of creative energy to burn and marketing is one way to let those wheels spin and get some forward motion going.

Speaking of forward motion: in June, I'm teaching a writing workshop called "Creating Forward Motion in Your Writing." There are a few spots left, so if interested, email me. (email link on the sidebar) The workshop is going to be small, writing intensive, and in a gorgeous NC mountain location.

I also have a half-day workshop "in the works" - it's an experiential search for the deeper meaning in your writing. It will involve walking, finding symbols that fit you and/or your work, and incorporating those symbols into your writing life - directly or indirectly. If interested, let me know. I'm still flexible as to dates and am eager to get it set up.

Otherwise I am living with horses and donkeys and Corgis and cats, sharing my writing time with a husband and two teens, enjoying the change of season from winter to spring, and as usual, being showered with ideas and characters and scenes on a daily basis.

What's going on in YOUR writing life?

one very big reason why I am thrilled to be in control of my work via November Hill Press

2011-01-28T14:08:00.003-05:00

GO HERE to see why.

No Kindle? No Problem!

2011-01-15T16:23:00.001-05:00

If you're interested in reading the November Hill Press titles I have available on Amazon but don't have a Kindle, there's a free and easy way to access them on a number of electronic devices, including;

your iPhone

your Windows PC

your Mac

your Blackberry

your iPad

your Android

or your Windows Phone 7

All you have to do is to GO TO AMAZON and download the appropriate free software that will work for you.

It's free, it's easy, and the software will enable you to buy not only my books, but many others, including including friend and fellow writer Dawn Deanna Wilson's wonderful collection of short stories: Welcome To Shangri-La, North Carolina.

Thanks to Dawn for allowing me to use the "No Kindle? No Problem!" phrase. She's brilliant. :)

do you agonize over what you write?

2010-12-18T08:03:00.000-05:00

I was reading a favorite blog the other day on which one of the bloggers posted about the agony of the writing process, specifically the part where one suddenly thinks the writing is terrible, the whole book a waste of time, and the inclination to chuck the entire thing becomes huge.

Now I know this is a fairly common issue for writers. I hear people saying it, and on some level I understand the feeling. But not from experience. I do have fleeting moments when I feel I've gotten off the path of the story, or when I realize something isn't working, but I can't remember any time with any of the six books I've written when I literally thought the work sucked and wanted to toss it.

I've always been the odd woman out when it comes to the writing process. For me, it isn't torture. I don't dread it or do anything to avoid sitting down and writing. I do have a full, busy life, and I don't always write every day. Sometimes I go periods without writing much at all. But I have written six books, and I don't outline, so I do get to places where things slow down. I have to wait to discover where the characters go next. I have to let the work sit so I can view it with fresh eyes. Certainly my revision process is fairly extensive - I go through the phases where things have to be changed, rewritten, corrected, tweaked, etc.

And I don't hate that.

If I hated it I doubt I'd DO it.

I'm willing to accept (of course!) that others may have different writing processes. But the gist of the blog post the other day was that it's normal to agonize, normal to think it sucks, and actually, a good sign that the work is good. If you don't hate it, it probably isn't good.

I heartily disagree. My suspicion as a psychotherapist is that this agony, the sudden hatred of the writing, the story, the characters, the entire work, has something to do with the inner psyche of the writer - and not much at all to do with the writing.

And I'm curious. Do you agonize over your writing at any point? Do you hate what you write? Do you feel like the first draft is crap?

I know my first drafts are not finished material. There are holes, repetition, inconsistencies, and other things that I will eventually fix. But for me, that first draft is magical. That it even gets on the page is a sort of miracle. Where did it come from? How did it form in my head and then onto the screen?

I wonder if simply reframing how we think about our work opens it up to be not just 'our work' - but an experience. A rich, rewarding period in which something grows and matures into something we are proud of. Even during the parts we struggle. Especially during those times.

It takes a good chunk of time to write a poem, or story. It takes a longer chunk of time to write a novel. Why not make the entire process something positive? We have the ability to choose how we view what we do. Why do so many writers choose to agonize and belittle their own work?

What do you think?

meanwhile, in the shade

2010-11-14T10:03:00.000-05:00

by J. Kyle Kimberlin

I found this in the prefatory text of today’s A Word A Day from Wordsmith.org.

Short story writer Guy de Maupassant once wrote, "Whatever you want to say, there is only one noun to express it, one verb to animate it and one adjective to qualify it." As a master of the short story, Maupassant knew something about finding the right word.

While a word has many synonyms, each synonym has its own shade of meaning. A good writer picks just the right shade to paint a picture with words.

Well, that’s true. That’s what we do. Well, it’s what you do, you good writers. The rest of us stare at the sheet of paper until drops of blood extrude from our foreheads, just trying to imagine the vast array of possibilities. By some accounts, English has over a million words.

The truth is that everyone consults the color palate of words, but writers take it more seriously and pursue it as an art. (Or in the case of business and technical writing, a profession.) There is a poet in every man, just like everyone makes music, even if it’s singing in the shower. We’re not all Beethoven, but we’re somebody.

When my nephew was a baby and learning to talk, he would see a telephone and say tonebach. It was the perfect word. But it’s weird that he chose a sound that was closer to telephone than simply phone, since we rarely use the older, larger word anymore. And he used tonebach for everything from a wall phone to a desk phone to the smallest cell phone. How did he know? Because babies are geniuses, that’s how. Words are an exploration for them.

Writing is always an exploration, whether it’s discovering the hidden lives of characters or the perfect way to say you owe me money, pay up.

“A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”
—Thomas Mann

Oh, that’s right. And there are several reasons. Among them is the fact that it is our art, so we can’t stop until we get it as close to perfection as possible, and the last drop of sanity forces us to abandon it and move on. It’s never simply good enough.

There’s the search for something to write about, and that’s usually hard. Though I admit that sometimes for this blog, I just paste in a quote I find interesting, then see where it leads. That’s what I’m doing now. And isn’t that how inspiration works? Didn’t Van Gogh see a field of wheat and follow it into his mind?

Writing isn’t often fun and it isn’t always done for fun. And that’s an extreme over-generalization. But it has some validity, at least for me when I’m wearing my hat of poet and literary writer. It’s all about practice, just like mastering a musical instrument. And It’s about digging for common groundwater, buried streams that run between our lives. All too frequently, the subterranean shores on which they meet are points of pain and grief. Such feelings are common in the lives of human beings.

When William Faulkner – my ultimate, all-time favorite writer – accepted the Nobel Prize for Literature, he said:

I feel that this award was not made to me as a man, but to my work--a life's work in the agony and sweat of the human spirit, not for glory and least of all for profit, but to create out of the materials of the human spirit something which did not exist before.

Then there’s the solitude, the need to find free hours, and the fact that the people around you don’t appreciate that very much. You go off by yourself for long swaths of time, and come back with very little to show for it. Especially compared to someone whose art is The Well-Tempered Clavier or the well-turned chair.

Well, it’s nobody’s fault but our own, after all. We could’ve made chairs, or birdhouses. Or some nice paintings of mountains, rocky coastline or dogs and cats. (Though people might have more room for books in their lives than for chairs and paintings.) We choose to string words together, finding the right ones and the right order for them, and we’re probably stuck with that choice. It’s a calling too easily accepted, but borne with some difficulty.

There was a strong sense of the sacred in my task. She should be borne from her old bed to her place of rest in one fluid motion, as of a bird in flight. Still I wanted to lay her down so badly, just for a minute to shake out my arms and stretch my back. No. All I have to do is this step, then that step. One after another, the next right thing. Like words in their order, or how you tie a knot. Step by step until I get it done. It’s my burden to bear and mine alone. I should be grateful for the privilege. Not every man has half a day to spend on death, let alone kindness.

-- Kyle Kimberlin, Charlie’s Crossing, work in process.

November Hill Press Announcement

2010-11-07T17:28:00.000-05:00

November Hill Press is pleased to announce our first photographic calendar, Partners In Zen 2011, which is available in our brand new Zazzle shop, which you can access via the link on the sidebar to your right.

The calendar features many of the animal partners who appear in the forthcoming nonfiction title, Partners In Zen, which will be released in 2011.

outside the conservatory, and a bit on writing process

2010-11-01T10:01:00.002-04:00

These were a few shots I took outside the conservatory. Once I walked by the door, it was hard to stay interested in what is a gorgeous garden. All I wanted to do was get inside!

Next comes a series of photos at one of my favorite places on the earth. I've been many times but never took photos. This time I did.

I'm labeling these posts as writing in addition to the place names - because for me, seeking out these magical places feeds my writing whether or not I end up using the places, or anything I see while exploring them, in the work itself.

One of the best ways to deal with writing blocks, or to stimulate a new project, is to get away from the desk and go out into the world, especially outside the circle of our everyday routine.

For me, finding places that have been around longer than I have always stirs things up in a wonderful way. I can feel the stories of all the people who have lived there, traveled there, remain there - swirling in a sort of wonderful cauldron of creative unconsciousness. It puts me right in the place where I want to be to access my own stories floating around in the deep places we all carry with us but don't always recognize when busy with our daily lives.

Sometimes I find a path for my story through making my own journey to new or beloved places. And other times, like this one, I feel like the path was already there inside my head, and in a streak of pure synchronicity, I managed to recreate it in my actual travels. I could feel the distinct sensation this trip that I was following the path of the main character in the new book, which is at the moment nothing more than an idea, a premise, with one character vaguely in mind.

And yet as we went from place to place last week, I could feel her becoming more solid, and was able to begin to see a little form coming to the idea. This part of the writing (or creative) process is nebulous and I don't think people write much about it. The focus tends to be on how to sit down and write, getting the words onto the page or the screen. But this part, the part where it's all wispy and not graspable, is in my opinion the most important part.

It's where we trust that the germ of something is worthwhile, and where we allow the unnamed magic to happen without trying to plan it or control it.

It's a valuable time for us as individuals too - allowing ourselves to be in the numinous. It's healing, it's transforming, and all kinds of good things come when we let it happen. Not just in our writing, but in our lives.

new series at November Hill Press blog

2010-10-13T13:05:00.000-04:00

Check it out HERE.

"Chance Favors the Connected Mind" by Steven Johnson

2010-09-26T14:45:00.000-04:00

I LOVE this video. Tweak it just a tiny bit toward writing novels, short stories, or nonfiction, and suddenly you have a wonderful model for the creative process.

when big-hearted writers write beautiful books

2010-09-22T20:42:00.000-04:00

I've posted over at camera-obscura and at November Hill Press about Susan Henderson's debut novel, Up From The Blue, but I wanted to come at it from a slightly different angle here at mystic-lit.

I've been hearing good things about this book for a while, from a number of different people, all writers, and from Susan herself, who has posted about her writing process at her blog, LitPark, and also at The Nervous Breakdown.

If you read Susan's blog posts at either place you quickly see that she is just as interested in what other writers are working on, and experiencing, as she is in talking about herself. It's a rare gift, and I think her generosity of spirit comes through in Up From The Blue.

I had planned to get the book today at our local independent bookstore. I shop at Amazon too and have no problems with that at all, but sometimes, when it's a special book, I like to buy it locally so I can chat with the booksellers and endorse the book not only with my purchase, but my travel time and energy.

After all the chatting about the launch yesterday, I found myself incapable of waiting - and in this day and age one doesn't have to! I went to Amazon, bought the book on Kindle, and proceeded to read it on my husband's iPad.

I read on for half the book, barely even blinking, or so it felt, as I was instantly and totally carried away by this story.

It really does pull you in. The only reason I stopped was because I was exhausted physically and knew I'd pay today if I didn't get sleep! And when I really love a book, I like to slow down so I don't finish it too quickly. This is definitely one of those books.

I couldn't begin to type in all the passages I marked mentally as I read. And now I understand the "lung-stopping" comment Jessica Keener made on her blog Confessions of a Hermit Crab. It's a powerful story but a delicate one too - nothing that hits you over the head. It slowly but surely takes your breath away.

There's been discussion for years now about the internet and how much more accessible authors are as we go to their websites, their blogs, read them on Twitter, etc. There are a few who maintain a low or invisible profile online, but most utilize the internet as a marketing tool and to create community in what can be a lonely and solitary profession.

It's a huge treat when a writer is generous both personally and in her writing. Susan Henderson is definitely both.

And I'm going back to the iPad now to finish this wonderful book.

Jonathan Franzen and Freedom

2010-09-17T22:24:00.000-04:00

I'm reading Franzen's newest novel, Freedom, and since I've done my share of grinching about The Corrections, which I wasn't fond of, and about his remarks about Oprah's audience which got him uninvited to her show, I figured I should also share my experience of his new book.

I hadn't planned to buy it, but then I happened to turn on NPR while driving and caught his interview with Terri Gross on Fresh Air. I was prepared to be annoyed and for the first few minutes I was. But then, as I listened, Franzen described himself as having finally "grown up" at the age of 51, and he also talked about how writing novels is for him "putting the unspeakable into words" and in spite of myself I began to appreciate his perspective. And I became intrigued with this new book.

I started it last weekend, could barely stop myself from plowing straight through 'til the end, but did, because I didn't want to race through it. I'm still reading, generally allowing myself one chapter a night (there have been several nights when I was too tired to read at all) and I'm very much enjoying this story, the writing, and the characters. I am completely absorbed by the people, to the degree that in between reading, I wonder what they're doing, as if they're people I once knew and have been reminded of by something in passing.

Tonight I saw Janet Fitch's write-up of Franzen's appearance at ALOUD in LA, and I love what she had to say about it. Her experience is very close to what mine was as I listened to his interview. And like Fitch, I loved what he said (via her quote in her post) about the novel as form.

It's interesting to have such a disdainful reaction to not only a novel but to the novelist as well - and then, years later, to have such an opposite reaction to the novelist - and his new novel.

Maybe I've grown up a bit too.

it's a press!

2010-07-27T18:45:00.000-04:00

November Hill Press is officially open!

Please visit us at the blog,

on Facebook,

and stay tuned for the website, coming soon.

Forthcoming books include novels:

claire-obscure

The Meaning of Isolated Objects

Signs That Might Be Omens

Stay tuned for more information, and if questions about submissions, please email me using the link on the sidebar.

writing group versus writing partner - what's the difference?

2010-06-26T20:56:00.001-04:00

For years I hosted a writing group at my old office, and each Thursday evening four of us met to read out loud, offer feedback, and give support as we wrote towards publication.

That particular writing group was extremely successful, in that it lasted without much drama at all, for several years, only breaking up when one member decided to pursue botanical drawing seriously, and another moved out of the area.

I think what made the group so successful was that three of us had been in a 6-week writing group setting together and loved each other's work, style of critique, and wanted to keep it going. Our fourth member came to us and hit the ground running. I don't think we could have had a better mesh of personalities if we'd tried.

We were all quite serious at our writing, and I don't recall anyone ever coming without something to read. It was a good group and I got my first novel ready for querying with the feedback of those three wonderful women.

When we were down to two, we actively tried to add a few people. Two were interested but never followed through. One came a couple of times but was intimidated by our intensity - we worked hard and although we didn't expect new members to necessarily follow our lead, I think in the end we realized a group works best if everyone is at the same basic speed.

The two of us worked together as writing partners for another year or so. At that time I think we were both working on new novels and because of our trust and comfort level, were both reading the pages out loud almost as fast as we were writing them - and by the end of the novels, it began to feel a bit like we were each too close to the other's work to offer truly objective feedback.

I think we'd have continued meeting except at that point I moved and meeting was more difficult to schedule. We still offer one another ms critiques though and it's a real gift having someone who has heard/read my work through the years and can offer a "big-picture" take on some of my writing issues. It's a valuable thing to have.

The beauty of a group is the variety of perspectives you get. In our original group, each member had very specific strengths that when all blended together gave us a very top-level critique of the material we were reading.

The beauty of a partner is that while you're getting one person's take on your work, it can be much more intimate and I think the writing process becomes a part of the shared experience. That too is a valuable thing to have.

Right now I have a writing group that has two people in it. :)

We had aimed for more members but couldn't get a commitment to a monthly meeting that by necessity takes place on a Saturday afternoon/evening. What has evolved is what we are calling "writing group weekend" once a month. D. arrives on Friday evening, we generally share some food and drink and look at goals and what we've accomplished since the last meeting, what we want to accomplish, and then on Saturday we set about doing that. Lots of writing, reading out loud, touching base about the "business" of writing and the process, and generally cheering one another on. We do more of the same on Sunday and end with a meeting to set goals for the next month.

It's been like a monthly mini-retreat, and it's been wonderful. Easy to schedule, easy to plan - there are only two of us, so we get to read as much as we want each month. I guess it goes without saying that if you're going to have a writing partner, it should be someone you really click with, and enjoy their work. Mutual respect is key.

D. and I met at a writing residency where we got to know one another over the course of a few years, so by the time this writing weekend group happened, there were no surprises.

What's missing? The variety of perspectives, mainly. Unfortunately, unless I kick my family out of the house, there's not really room for more group members to come for the whole weekend experience we have evolved into.

For now, it's working well. At some point we may want to look at shifting to an actual group again and see if there are kindred spirits who want to join.

Which probably brings me to something that's important when choosing a writing group OR a writing partner: make sure you are both looking for the same thing. That might be a set of willing eyes/ears, or it might be a kindred spirit.

I personally wanted this "group" to share not only feedback about the work, but the joy of the writing life. My hope was that the group would end up lasting many, many years, and that along with the rejections and the waiting and the hope for bigger audiences for our writing, we would also share the good stuff that comes with writing: the craft, the lifestyle, the persistence, the sheer delight in stringing words together.

D. was excited about that. Not everyone would be - some writers want a more business-like approach, others want a social club setting, and that's fine. It's important to clarify that up front. We get a lot of work done when D. is here. But we have a huge amount of fun at the same time. We're in it for the long haul, and we're serious writers. We're also set on celebrating the writing along the way.

Chickens & Writing: A Love Story

2010-05-04T13:29:00.002-04:00

by A.S. King

Earlier this year, it occurred to me that my past life as a rare poultry breeder helps me through the business of writing and publishing. I said as much on Twitter, and people demanded a blog, so here we are. Now, I'm a little strange compared to a lot of people. I was self-sufficient once, so I'm frugal and careful. I don't take loans from banks or buy stuff I don't need. I don't make a lot of friends or go out that often. I like to keep my life simple, like The Waltons or Little House on the Prairie. In a way, this is how a chicken breeder thinks. Or, at least, this chicken breeder. It's how I think as a writer, too. Simple.

To start, I don't count my chickens before they hatch.

There are a lot of ways to lose unhatched chicks. If you're incubating artificially, it's as easy as losing electricity or forgetting to add water for the proper moisture content. And that's leaving out the possibility that you candled the eggs incorrectly, and you're trying to hatch unfertilized eggs. (Always a bummer.) If you're using a broody hen to hatch your eggs, she can decide halfway through to stop sitting. She can peck the crap out of them one night in a fit of bored insanity.

In publishing, imprints shut down, options get rejected, books get dropped, tours get canceled and contracts fall through. In writing, ideas fail, deadlines loom, and some days it's just impossible to write or write well. So, the idea of selling a book that hasn't hatched yet seems like a crazy risk to someone like me. And I was never the type to daydream about movie options and red carpets either. I do the work that's on my desk and hope to sell it. It's very simple. And I'm always about to write the next book, so if those eggs don't hatch, there are others incubating. This isn't to say I'm not optimistic. I'm one of the more optimistic people I know. But I've been around long enough to know that shit happens.

Fact: Chickens poop.

Yes, chickens poop. And they can't work a shovel or a wheelbarrow, so you have to clean it up. Sure, once those chicks hatch and dry off a bit, they are cute as all get out. But they start pooping from day one. The first weeks hold risks. You have to keep them out of anything with corners or else they'll be squished to death by their siblings. You have to make sure no predators can attack and you need to put the brooding light nice and low to keep them warm enough. And of course, the basics--food and water and cleaning up the poop.

I doubt I need to point out the obvious parallels here. If you're reading this, I'm guessing you already know that sometimes, there is poop in writing and publishing. I'm not complaining. I love my job. Revision and mucking out the chickens are two of my favorite things to do. Yes, we already knew I was weird. But here's a totally awesome thing.

Chicken poop makes great fertilizer.
I used to make poop tea. Ew! Not to drink! To water my crops with, of course. And those crops fed me. See? Good things can come from poop. In fact, as fertilizer goes, you can't do much better than chicken poop. It's so hardcore you have to dilute it.

When I'm writing a book, the poop also comes from day one. Characters go flat. Premise might go off track. Plot can go in the wrong direction. Best to look at these things as learning experiences. Make some book-poop tea. Turn the flattest character ever into someone readers will never forget. Make a bore into an adventure. Same goes with publishing-world poop. When a door closes, a window opens, even if you can't see it yet. Keep writing, keep working, keep improving. Whatever you do, do not leave the poop in the coop. Ignoring poop never leads anywhere good.

Surely some of you are totally grossed out by this whole thing already. Ew. Poop? Poop tea? I'm aware this isn't a common way of thinking. I'm aware that poop tea is weird. I'm aware that I am weird and I am okay with that.

In birds and books, sometimes weird is good.

After a few years of breeding standard laying hens, I became a rare chicken breeder. For the most part, I bred birds called Blue Orpingtons. The thing about Blue Orpingtons that made them so darn rare was the genetics. Ready for this? If you want white Orpingtons, you breed two white Orpington birds. If you want black Orpingtons, you breed two black Orpington birds. But if you want Blue Orpingtons, you can't just breed two Blue Orpington birds.

Breeding two Blue Orpingtons will yield some black, some white, some black with white speckles mottled, and some white with black mottled. To get an ALL BLUE brood, you have to take a white with black mottled hen and breed her with a blue rooster. That's why they're called rare. And the most money I'd ever get is for the white with black mottled hen. They don't look like they'd be the most valuable. (Actually, they look kinda scruffy.) But they are.

People will drive a long way for rare birds.

People will drive an hour or two for common birds.
They'll drive up to four hours for rare blue birds.
But for a white with black mottled Orpington hen? Uh, chicken people will do crazy things for one of these. It means they can skip that extra step. They are guaranteed fluffy blue treasure.

In publishing, I don't think there are any shortcuts to fluffy blue treasure, even though every writing magazine seems to advertise a hundred of them on every other page. I do think people will go a long way to buy rare birds, though--the birds that broke away from the flock somehow. In writing, no matter what genre, this is what you want to do.

In chickens, most buyers want $5-a-head laying pullets. They really aren't concerned with breed, usually. They just want fresh free-range eggs to eat. But there is a particular type of person who will buy rare birds. I call them crazy chicken people. I was one, so I mean no offense. Crazy chicken people are all about rare or weird birds. They probably have a peacock perched on their fence who spits at you when you walk by. Their back yards have usually been transformed into what looks like a mini-zoo of coops and runs. They take their job very seriously. And their boots always have chicken poop on them.

Publishers need laying pullets and broiler cockerels, and a good, hearty rooster that will do its job. They need the brand names you know, that you see in the refrigerated section of most supermarkets and have poppers in them to tell you when they're ready. If you are a writer, you want to be this for your publishing house. You want to be John Grisham, Nora Roberts or Judy Blume. However, not all writers will end up the popular Perdue roaster with a popper, and that's okay too. Usually, becoming an overnight success takes a few decades of hard, focused work. Finding the voice that makes you a rare blue Orpington will probably take a few tries.

I think most fiction editors compare to crazy chicken people. They are always on the lookout for a rare bird that broke away from the flock. They will certainly spot a scruffy-seeming white with black mottled hen and know well what they've found. They know that there is more than one type of chicken out there, their boots are very messy, and they know what to do with a shovel.

While I'm on the subject.

I should mention there tons of different types of rare birds. Some are hearty, some aren't. Some are huge, some are tiny. Some breed easily and lay a lot of eggs. Some lay few eggs that are harder to hatch. I bred Modern Game Bantams for a while. They were the coolest birds ever. But they were so hard to hatch. Really hard. So, for me, they were even rarer than my other rare stock, because I'd be lucky to get five fertilized eggs from them before I'd hatch. And then only three would hatch right. And then, maybe only two would survive.

Sometimes, that's what happens to my books, too.

In relation to books and chickens, here are some interesting random thoughts:

Different chickens need different types of houses.
All chickens roost. But some chickens roost higher than others.
Some chickens can fly high enough to escape the coop.
Some chickens grow up to be slow chickens who peck at themselves.
Some chickens have chronic health problems.
Some chickens get eaten by foxes.
Some chickens just die without any warning.

This brings me back to the first point about counting chickens before they hatch. Because any of these things can happen before the bird is 21 weeks old and ready to sell. Anything can happen to your book, too. But at least with breeding poultry, it happens within a reasonable time frame.

Chicken breeding, like publishing, requires patience.
(Only chicken breeding goes so much faster.)

So so so so so so so much faster.

If you lose patience, you are prone to desperation.

In desperation, really sick chickens can seem healthy. I know this because before I knew better, I drove three hours to buy a breeding pair of Sussex chickens. I bought them, brought them home, and within days, realized just how sick they were. I had to quarantine them far away from my other birds. By the second week, the hen became eggbound. You do not want to know what has to be done with an eggbound bird. I will only tell you that it involves Vaseline.

Desperation causes human beings to lose all sense.
(It leads to Vaseline, people.)

In publishing, desperation is something you want to avoid. Yes, I know you've written two/four/seven/fifteen books and have been collecting rejection letters for years. I know your family members are starting to avoid eye contact. I know this frustration very very well. But look around. Do you think those magazines would be full of all those shortcut advertisements if they didn't know that we're desperate? If they didn't know we are weak? Oh they know. They know the same as the weird lady who sold me those sick birds knew that I had driven three hours, and there was no freaking way I was going to drive back home with no birds.

But now, after the Vaseline, and knowing the events that unfolded over the next two weeks which were disappointing, hard to watch, and ended in burying $70 worth of birds, I can see very clearly that a three hour drive home with no birds would have been far better. I'd gone temporarily crazy and turned into a collector who just wanted more. I'd become greedy and entitled and forgot that chickens were supposed to be fun.

And that's the trick--to keep it fun.

Sure, in the end, books are products to publishers just like chickens are products to chicken breeders. But to writers, books are more than just something someone will buy. And to me, chickens were more than just birds I would eventually sell or eat. Hatching chicks was great fun. Some birds became more like pets than eventual dinners. Edna, one of my first laying hens, loved to visit us in the house and perch on the half door to sunbathe. Virgil, the duck with the gammy foot, was like a son to us during his short time on Earth.

And of course, books are more than things we buy. They're part of our lives and our deeper experiences. Writing books, for most writers I know, is an exciting experience akin to sailing around the world. Yes, there is all that work involved, and cabin fever, scurvy, bad storms and rocky seas, but there is amazement and enlightenment around every bend, and when the story of the journey is told years later, it sounds like fun. I'm always surprised when my tales of self-sufficient living and breeding chickens make people say WOW! But looking back, while it was a lot of work, mostly, it was fun.

One last lame cliche. I don't put all my eggs in one basket.

I guess for me, the trick to keeping it fun--both writing and breeding chickens--was to make sure neither thing was the key to feeding my family. Back then, I was lucky to get paid for teaching literacy, the same as I'm lucky now to get paid for running a business. So, really, unless you're Frank Purdue or JK Rowling, a plan B is always a good idea. I think that's probably true in any business that involves as much risk as ours does. Plus, if we concentrate too much on the money--the publishing, the supermarket, the royalty statement-- we can apply too much pressure and lose sight of why we do this, and all the great things we're learning by doing it, and our work is poorer for it.

In the end, there are as many types of books as there are birds, and a lot of fun to be had with both. I think the most important thing to remember is--if you want to make money off of either, you have to keep producing.
Be reasonable. Be careful. Avoid anything that leads to Vaseline.
Bok Bok. Get typing.

A.S. King's short fiction has appeared in a lot of great journals and has been nominated for Best New American Voices. Her first young adult novel, The Dust of 100 Dogs, was published in February 2009 and was an ALA Best Books for Young Adults pick, a Cybils Award finalist and an Indie Next List pick for teens. Her next novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz, is due in October 2010 from Knopf, and her third, Everybody Sees the Ants, will come a year after from Little, Brown.

writing group weekends - what I'm celebrating this year in the writing life

2010-03-21T09:22:00.001-04:00

There's nothing quite so wonderful in the writing life as a Saturday night on the monthly writing group weekend, when my fellow writer friend and I are sitting in my garret, taking turns reading our work out loud to one another.

Last night was especially nice, as the window was open, spring lay on the other side of the screen, and I could hear the dogs across the lane barking at deer.

And inside the garret, D. read several sections from her novel-in-progress, which was a treat to hear. After we discussed her pages, I read three chapters from my pony book, and we discussed those.

It's pure pleasure to walk down the stairs at the end of such an evening, with notes on pages and a clear idea for edits. We always end up discussing the big picture too, and that leaves a lovely residue of hope and determination to take into the next day.

Which is today - and since this writing group goes on to Sunday, I'll do some editing, do some more drafting, and we'll read again before D. heads back home.

There have been years when I didn't need this kind of interaction about the writing, but in 2009 I realized I wanted this back in my writing life, and fortunately D. felt the same and is willing to come once a month and make this happen.

It's spring! If you're writing and not quite content with how it's going, make a change. Find a way to celebrate the good stuff that comes with the writing life. In my case, it was finding some writing company again - someone to share the good stuff and commiserate the difficulties.

In April we're considering a joint retreat to the magic mansion, because we have big goals for May 1st and having that extra time and protected space will help us achieve them.

I'd love comments about what you're doing differently this year in your own writing journey. Or, if you're carrying on as usual, what you're celebrating in your writing life that works.

the future of publishing

2010-03-18T16:35:00.003-04:00

the psychology of trying to get published

2010-03-12T09:56:00.001-05:00

This is not a long-thought-out post, but for the past day I've been pondering the psychology of writers and particularly the psychology of trying to get published.

What is it about the process that sends some writers running, and keeps others prisoners for sometimes years of their lives?

Obviously there's no one right answer, but I think it's useful to look at this question for ourselves as we engage and/or disengage from the process.

For me, someone who loved writing English papers and getting the grade and the feedback, the process of querying agents, going on submission, etc. is largely about being chosen and given positive attention for something I already know I do well. The personal nature of writing - putting stories and characters and entire worlds "out there" for judgment is risky and scary on some levels, but so rewarding when even one person loves it and champions it.

I've been thinking about this as I make a shift from "trying to get published" to "publishing."

What happens when I skip over the part that feeds my writer ego?

It means I go directly to the readers, who either buy or don't buy, love or hate, embrace or ignore, my writing. I go straight to the riskiest part.

The responsibility is all mine. No agent can be held accountable for selling a mediocre book. No editor put his or her stamp of approval on the manuscript. I did the work of writing, the additional work of editing, and I move on to the work of getting the book "out there." With no hand-holding or praise for doing so.

Looking back, I realize now that having an agent (both of them) was in itself a mostly wonderful experience. It held status. It was like having an English professor who loved my work and the semester wasn't going to end. The years of having the agents were in some ways blissful years. But the bliss didn't extend to a sale, and I cut loose twice in an effort to find that first book a home.

During the tougher times of recent years in the publishing business, I've wondered a few times if I should have stayed with the agents. Safe in the haven, writing away, feeling secure that I was in that coveted place most writers want: being agented.

Certainly it would be easier than returning to the merry-go-round of querying.

When I look at what I want from writing, it's mostly to write the books that transform ME, in the hope that they might also transform OTHERS.

I'm in a different place than I was 7 years ago, when I first queried and had a whirlwind of response, and got very caught up in the excitement of being chosen and assured that my book was big and that it was just the first step in a long career as a writer.

It's time (for me) to jump the ship of "trying to get published" and swim in the open seas of "publishing."

I don't advocate this for everyone, but I do advocate a measured pause in your process: ask some questions of your writer self, evaluate where you are, and make a clear plan for moving forward. Whichever path you choose, the active intention of renewing that choice is a powerful thing.

new writing posts coming soon!

2010-02-10T08:51:00.003-05:00

Thanks for indulging one of my personal causes here the past few days, but prepare for a return to posts on the writing life. I have two guest blogs lined up and am excited about both of them.

If anyone reading has a guest blog, use the link to the right to contact me. Always open to new material here!

NO ROLLKUR

2010-02-07T10:02:00.005-05:00

The FEI is holding a closed-door round table meeting on Feb. 9th to discuss the training method known as rollkur, or hyperflexion, which involves pulling and holding the horse's muzzle to his chest. This practice is known to have many negative effects on the horse, both physically and psychologically. Gerd Heuschmann, the lone voice for the horse at this meeting, has my support and appreciation as he presents his case "for the good of the horse" along with petitions and letters saying no to rollkur.

You can read more at my other blog - camera-obscura.

Please take a moment today and tomorrow to think positively about the outcome of this meeting. It will make a difference.

currently reading: Alice I Have Been

2010-01-30T19:16:00.003-05:00

Just wanted to recommend Melanie Benjamin's novel, Alice I Have Been, which is a fictionalized account of the life of Alice Liddell Hargreaves, otherwise known as Alice in Wonderland.

The story is compelling, the writing lovely, and I'm sad to be nearing the end this snowy evening.

a poem for winter solstice

2009-12-21T11:49:00.008-05:00

A friend, neighbor, and fellow writer, Judy Hogan, sent out a beautiful holiday missive this year, which talked about living a life full of gifts, and how the artist's gift, while it can be bought and sold in the marketplace, must also be given away freely.

In our community Judy does this regularly, and her holiday missive is the most recent example. It ended with this lovely poem, and Judy kindly gave me permission to post it here:

AN INDISPUTABLY IMPORTANT GRAIN OF SAND

by Judy Hogan
16 November 15, 2009

For my parents, children, grandchildren, friends, fellow farmers, and WCPE's Deana Vassar

Looking back, I see the gifts flowing like

a river, steady, rain-swollen or barely moving.

Once its waters spring forth in a young life,

as mine did early, they never hesitate.

Gifts are a normal mode of travel, of greeting

new acquaintances. They take you to new

lands, where you are welcomed and given

more than you can ever hope to return.

When your money runs low, you can worry

or keep giving gifts. If your hands feel

empty, give yourself, your smile, friendliness,

your belief in other people's courage and

your own. Give your words, the images

you conjure to remind yourself of the

sacred quality of every lived life, every

strand in the great net of Being. Then the

late gold cosmos and many-hued zinnias

will bloom for you, even those the wind

has knocked sideways. The chickens with

their newly groomed white feathers will

gather near you for over-ripe figs and

whatever gifts mid-November still offers

before the frost. You will bake cakes and

gingerbread for the children. Wrap jars

of homemade pickles and preserves; give

away your reflections from another year

lived through and learned from. Failures

are as important to share as successes.

We all fall and have to get up again.

When I look back, I see how each time I

found my way again from the all-consuming

dark back into the realm of the sun, I made

a path for someone stumbling along behind

me. We may feel alone, but we never are.

Hands take ours, we are hugged, the voices

of our grandchildren laugh with us. We

couldn't now lose our way if we tried.

A circle of joined hands

holds us tight in its embrace.

*******

You may visit Judy at her website to learn more about her offerings to writers, and go HERE to sign up for her springtime poetry class.

couldn't resist this - happy holidays!

2009-12-16T19:02:00.002-05:00

Her Morning Elegance, by Oren Lavie

holiday shopping for the writer who reads

2009-12-01T11:51:00.024-05:00

Happy browsing and shopping! If you're an author with a book available, I invite you to use the link in the sidebar to send me your info. I'll add listings as I receive them, and this post will stay up top through the month of December.

At the bottom please see names of the wonderful independent booksellers local to me. I encourage you to use them if you can.

Kelley Harrell's Gift of the Dreamtime:

Elaine Klonicki's offerings, including THIS ONE:

Lauren Baratz-Logsted's Crazy Beautiful. It's a YA novel, a contemporary re-visioning of Beauty & the Beast, about a boy with hooks for hands and a gorgeous girl who meet on their first day at a new school.

And her Sisters 8 series, for the tween readers on your list:

Bull's Head Bookshop - 1530 Daniels Bldg. UNC Chapel Hill, NC

City Lights Bookstore - 3 E Jackson St. Sylva, NC

Malaprop's Bookstore-Cafe - 55 Haywood St. Asheville, NC

McIntyres Fine Books - 2000 Fearington Village Ctr. Pittsboro, NC

Park Road Books - Park Road Shopping Ctr. Charlotte, NC

Pomegranate Books - 4418 Park Ave. Wilmington, NC

Quail Ridge Books - 3522 Wade Ave. Raleigh, NC (they have an online store)

Regulator Bookshop - 720 Ninth St. Durham, NC

The Country Bookshop - 140 NW Broad St. Southern Pines, NC

mystic-lit holiday shopping invitation

2009-12-01T08:27:00.004-05:00

I'm having a camera-obscura holiday shop starting later this week, where "locals" both geographically and cyber can share their creations.

It occurred to me just now that this would also be a great idea for mystic-lit.

If you're an author with a book for sale, send me a comment with cover image and link to wherever you choose for people to see (and perhaps buy) your book. Can be your website, Amazon, local indie, etc.

I'll also be listing all the indies local to me.

I'll collect comments (won't publish them here, unless you're just generally responding to the idea) for the next week and then post one big post for everyone to see. I'll leave it up through December.

Happy holidays!

The Writer’s Middle Finger: Part Three

2009-09-21T07:01:00.002-04:00

(Dealing with the business of publishing a book while remembering what really matters.)

by A.S. King

By now, you know how I feel about writing advice. If you don’t, here’s the gist: what works for others may not work for you. What works for you may not work for others. In many ways this mirrors the kind of thinking you will need to get through the business side of this journey, as well.

But I want to make this clear. Your writer’s middle finger is for when you’re writing. You have to save it for the important stuff. Save it for the days when you doubt your own vision or gut or read advice that makes you feel confined. Once you publish a book, you will feel the urge to raise that finger in all sorts of directions, but say it with me, reader, “Books are like snowflakes. I want to make a blizzard.” (If this seems obtuse, read The Writer’s Middle Finger Part One.)

If you use your writer’s middle finger to flip off things you can’t control, it will lose its magical powers. Sometimes it’s easy to forget why we started this journey. Which is why today’s blog is about a few things that might suck, because they come along with being a published writer, but do not deserve our valuable middle finger.

Dealing with negative reviews and commentary

Everyone has a different way of dealing with bad reviews and commentary. If you must look, try to have a sense of humor. When I got my first snarky review, I was pretty bummed out for a few days. I wanted to say stuff about it. I felt defensive and angry. But what could I do about that review? Nothing. Reviews are like haircuts. Of course, if you get a bad haircut, it will grow out. Unfortunately, bad reviews do not grow out. But tell me: is a bad haircut a reflection of you? Or the hairdresser?

If you try to please every complainer who writes you a letter, you will make very boring books. (If I was to remove what some people complained about from The Dust of 100 Dogs, I think there might be two pages left.) If you’ve published a book, there’s a decent chance someone will think it should be set alight. If these people approach you in person, smile and nod.

Remember this: "What other people think of you is none of your business." –Unknown

You have an even more powerful tool than your writer’s middle finger to deal with this stuff, if it tends to bug you. Break Up With Google. Stop Looking at Reviews. Stop Caring About Negativity. Then, Write More Books.

Dealing with the publishing business

Editors and agents move or quit or get fired. Publicists get you a gig at an empty warehouse with rats for an audience. Your local Barnes and Noble treats you like month-old garbage. Contracts fall through. Books don’t get stocked. Co-op gets pulled. Promoting gets tiring. The list of hurdles is long.

Set your own goals and adjust accordingly. If you don’t like online promotion, or touring or school visits, that’s fine. I like bookmarks, but some people swear by postcards. You set out to write children’s books, but you found yourself writing a memoir or a science fiction novel? That’s fine. Keep at it. Adjust your sights. There is no wasted time when you’re writing. Everything you write will be practice for the next time around. And there is no doubt about this—the publishing business is not in a hurry.

A successful author friend said to me recently, “Remember when you used to think that when you reached a certain point, it'd all be gravy?” What a smart guy. It’s never gravy. It’s a job. It requires work and involves stuff that might piss you off some days. But it’s good—with all its weirdness and uncertainty and its knack for moving at the pace of a stoned tortoise. Without the publishing business, we wouldn’t meet editors who make our work sparkle, or publicists or booksellers or librarians or fans. Without the publishing business, we would not have an outlet for what we love to do most. You are responsible for juggling the love and the bullshit. Only you can dictate just how many balls you have up in the air at once. (For the record, I try to only juggle the love, man.)

The separation of writing and business

I keep the writing and the business in different mental rooms. That way, it’s easier to remember what my number one job is. I wrote for fifteen years without being paid a penny. You probably did, too. So when you finally make a buck off this? Remember what the most important thing is. Writing. Snowflakes. Blizzard. Block out the uncontrollable bullshit. You may think that because you’re getting paid money, that it makes the business more important than the writing. But you did this long before you got money for it. You did it for free.

Here’s my theory: The uncontrollable bullshit is what the money is for. Eating the toasted craptart that is getting a bad review and licking the melting poopsicle that is getting unsolicited criticism from your child’s teacher or a guy who knew you in grade school. The money is for dealing with covers you might not like, or a new editor who can’t remember your name.

Here’s my cure: Each time something negative happens to you in this business, write yourself an imaginary $100 check as compensation. Then, go back to the desk, stretch your middle finger, and write for free.

A.S. King’s short fiction has appeared in a lot of great journals and has been nominated for awards. Her first young adult novel, The Dust of 100 Dogs, was published by Flux in February 2009 and was an Indie Next List pick for teens and has been nominated for YALSA's Best Books for Young Adults. Her next novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz, is due in Fall 2010 from Knopf.

The Writer's Middle Finger: Part Two, Reprised

2009-09-17T20:21:00.003-04:00

(On Avoiding Disappointment.)

by A.S. King

So, you’re ready to write what you want to write. You’re ready to ignore dumb advice and name your characters Saffron or Millicent and have them drive obscure cars named after small South American mammals. You’re ready to hoist those middle fingers and say, “Screw you world! I’m gonna write something TOTALLY ORIGINAL and not think about what shelf it might land on in a bookstore!” Some business-minded readers are shaking their heads. This is not the way to sell books. True, maybe. But I think it’s definitely the way to become a writer.

Growing a writer takes time.

Do you remember those people in junior high school who arrived in Izod sweaters, then met the weird girl in class, and suddenly chopped their hair, layered on the eyeliner, and bought a Clash album? Those might have been the same people who moved up to high school and traded in their Clash album for rap music and a pair of baggy jeans. I mean no offense to anyone who did this. We all did this in our own way. We were growing and learning and figuring out who we were. Bravo to us. But it took a while, remember?

I like to think that writing has an adolescence period, too. Like life-adolescence, writer-adolescence is an awkward and exciting time, filled with the influence of whomever you allow in. Be careful. A few cynical thoughts from the wrong people can steer you away from yourself. There are plenty of bullies and downers and know-it-alls in this business – people who want to startle you with publishing “facts”. You need to remember why you’re here. You want to write, right?

Publishing and writing are two completely different things.

Only fifteen years ago, it was hard to find out about publishing. You had to buy Writer’s Market books and read trade magazines and find real flesh-and-blood humans to talk to about how to write a query letter, or what a royalty statement meant, or how to double check your contract. Now, with the internet, we can find out a lot about publishing in a matter of days – which is a great thing and also not a great thing. I’m all for being educated, but I meet a lot of writers who are over-interested in the publishing side of things before they really start writing. After a story or two, or even a novel, they ask, “When should I just give up?” Give up? Give up what? Are you writing? Are you enjoying writing? Isn’t that what you’re here for? “I do like writing, but I thought I’d be published by now.” I understand this. I understand that it’s nice to be rewarded for hard work. I understand the need for concrete success. I also understand that every time you tell someone you’re a writer, the person asks, “Are you published?”

For this scenario and others, I feel fortunate that I grew my writer’s middle finger in a cave. No internet, no email. No outside opinions, no unsolicited advice, and no dangerous comparisons. Once I got a computer, my worst procrastination enemy was solitaire. I didn’t talk to anyone about writing. I didn’t read about query letters or the publishing world – I don’t think I knew what a query letter was until I was writing my third novel. I’m glad I didn’t, too. My writing pretty much sucked.

Here is a picture of my writer-adolescence.

While you suck, embrace your suck.

Really. Stop taking yourself so seriously. Writing isn’t everything. It probably isn’t going to make you much money. It especially isn’t going to make you money in the beginning, because we all suck then. Yep. Beginners suck. Saddle up. Set realistic goals and have some fun. Work until you can tell what sucks and what doesn’t, all by yourself. You don’t want to be one of those totally-sane-yet-tone-deaf American Idol contestants, do you?

On one hand, you can ask every passerby, “Do these jeans make my ass look fat?” and you might learn something about other people’s perceptions from their answers. On the other hand, you’re the only person who matters. If you think your ass looks fat in those jeans, no one else’s opinion counts. Once you embrace your suck, you are less likely to believe it when your mom says your sucky story about robot kittens is “Just wonderful!” but you’re also more likely to believe it when your gut tells you how good something is, no matter who doesn’t like it. (Because someone will always dislike it.)

While you rock, embrace your rock.

Life is hard is hard enough without having to fight yourself through the good times. Don’t be one of those downers, okay? When you finally get a story or poem accepted, say, “Yay!” and not, “Whatever,” and when you get suggestions or rejections, try to learn from them gracefully, but hold your ground about your ideas. Anything can work if it’s done well, no matter what the so-called experts say. In your beginning years, celebrate every improvement and aim always for better writing. This leads to a healthier personal writing environment – which you’ll need, because one day, if you keep at it, you’ll be juggling copy-edits, future proposals, promotion, and events while you’re writing the next two books. There will be no room for negativity.

Isolate yourself from time to time. Turn off your internet. Blow off your writer’s forums*. Stop reading the deal pages at Publisher’s Marketplace.** Listen to your gut – even if it suggests something completely insane. You will know when you are on the right path for you. I once owned a Human League album and had a hair tail that I dyed pink. I once wore a white beret and pierced my nose. While I loved both looks, and know they served their purpose, I’m still glad neither made it to the author page of The Dust of 100 Dogs.

*The author would like it known that she loves her writer’s forum (Backspace – the best $40 you’ll ever spend) and is not trying to say anything bad about writer’s forums.
** Similarly, I love Publisher’s Marketplace and mean no offense to it or anyone affiliated with it.

A.S. King’s short fiction has appeared in a lot of great journals and has been nominated for awards. Her first young adult novel, The Dust of 100 Dogs, was published by Flux in February 2009 and was an Indie Next List pick for teens and has been nominated for YALSA's Best Books for Young Adults. Her next novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz, is due in Fall 2010 from Knopf.

The Writer's Middle Finger - A Reprise

2009-09-16T15:38:00.007-04:00

In advance of Part Three of A.S. King's wonderful series The Writer's Middle Finger, (coming MONDAY 21 September) I'm reprising parts one and two today and Friday. Enjoy, and feel free to comment. Amy will be stopping by next Tuesday to check in.

Meanwhile, read on and get your sled ready. (you'll understand why when you get to my favorite A.S. King quote on writing, below)

-billie

The Writer’s Middle Finger

(How to grow it, groom it, love it and stretch it)

by A.S. King

Last winter, I hit a bump. A big bump. I forgot why I write.

Here’s the relevant backstory. I wrote seven novels over twelve years before I found an agent. It was nearly fourteen years before I eventually sold a book. What I want to write about today is what I possess, and what many of you possess, that makes us continue writing and investing ourselves for such long stretches of time without the so-called ‘success’ of publication.

This winter, when I came down to my office day after day with a big empty nothing where the novelist in me used to be, unable to pinpoint why I even have an office, I considered these things. How did I get here? Why did I want this so much? And how do I get it back?

How Did I Get Here?

By the time I’d written a few books, and submitted them, and had them rejected, I’d learned to overcome the frustrating, heart breaking road I was on. Frankly, I learned to write with my middle finger up. I’d had it with the changing fads I never fit into. I didn’t want to do what the how-to books told me to do. I didn’t aim or outline. I didn’t learn a formula for fiction. I didn’t read the right books for pleasure. I didn’t join internet writing groups. I stayed away from advice and articles and books about writing. This wasn’t about selling. It was about learning. So I wrote – what I wanted to write – with my middle finger extended.

Sheer stubbornness. It’s how I got this far. (I bet it’s how you got this far, too.) How else does a person write for years in the land of continuous NO?

But then the YES came.

And you can’t give YES the middle finger.

Why Did I Want This So Much?

I’m not sure if this happens to every writer who finally sells a book, but I felt a massive pressure to hurry up and write another one to sell. In my case, The Dust of 100 Dogs sold as YA, so I knew I wanted to write another edgy YA. That’s where I was this winter, when I hit the bump.

I’d trudge down to the desk, in hopes of inspiration. I’d write openings and more openings. I’d wade through pages of notes, or unfinished manuscripts. Or – God love me – I even revisited the novel that we shopped first and never sold. I realized that this – the writing the next book thing – was the hardest part of writing. And yet, it’s the whole reason we started to write, right? To…keep writing? I found myself in the oddest position. I’d sold a book, which was wonderful, but now I had to sit myself down and write the next book, which was no easier than the last ones I’d written. Actually it was harder, due to non-existent inspiration, total lack of purpose, and a growing awareness of ‘my career.’ (Though, since I don’t believe in writer’s block, I did manage a few shorts, which helped keep me sane.)

Then, something great happened.

In late February, I was skimming the internet for sites with tips for writers and I found so many of them teeming with awful, limiting advice! One should always write in a particular tense and never use certain POVs, and never use certain words (big ones) and should also always name their character Dirk or Sally, because they are so-called ‘strong’ names.

I’m sure it’s true, to some degree, that to sell in certain arenas, a book has to closely resemble all books that came before it, but the idea that there are strict rules in this way, in any genre, was simply ridiculous to me. And invigorating. Because finding advice so poor reminded me that I needed to find my middle finger again to write another book.

Tell me what tense to write my book in? (See it going up?)
You say I can’t write in second person? (You see it don’t you?)
Tell me what to name my characters? (Dirk sees it.)
Don’t use big words? (Can you visualize me hoisting my medial dactyl?)

Suddenly, I remembered why I wanted this. I wanted this because I wanted to write books. I wanted this because I wanted to write books I would love to read, even if nobody else did. I love books that much. I love the process that much. My process – void of Dirks and Sallys, sometimes in multiple tenses, often from several points of view, occasionally requiring a dictionary. It may not follow all the so-called rules, but it’s mine.

(Books are like snowflakes. I want to make a blizzard.)

And How Do I Get it Back?

On my birthday in early March, I drove through my old hometown on an errand. This is still a complete novelty for me, because I never thought I’d move back to the US, let alone anywhere near my hometown. It makes me oddly chirpy. I relax, or something, when I’m there. I passed a place I used to work. A story setting came to me, and a theme. Two characters formed in my head on the bypass home. Later that day, I pulled over into a church parking lot and jotted down the plot idea.

Four weeks later, I was done with the 60k first draft.

After spending January and February staring at the screen, wondering where the novelist in me had gone, without warning, I was me again. Because I remembered to exercise my middle finger and allowed myself to write in frowned-upon tenses, in four points of view, covering bizarre and awkward YA subject matter, while incorporating enormous words as part of the plot. What started out as a boring drive across town to buy organic rice ended in this multi-colored stack of scribbled-on paper here on my desk.

I May Still Fail

The book may not sell. Every one of us shares the murky long game this business offers, no matter what kind of books we write and no matter how many we sell. But I’m starting to see this as a good thing. Without something to rebel against, to make me explore my own fears and deep corners, I am uninspired. Without boundaries to push, or hurdles to clear, I grow lazy. Without something to flip the bird at, I’m bored.

So it’s good for us to read bad advice and get rejection letters and endure the next distant relative who asks, “Have you sold a book yet?” with that mocking smirk on his face. It’s good for us to toil in the land of NO. It’s fuel for the bubbling pit of stubbornness and crazy determination we need to do our job long enough to finally succeed. It is the perfect environment to grow and groom your writer’s middle finger.

The trick is, no matter where you are in your journey, to remember to stretch it.

A.S. King’s short fiction has appeared in a lot of great journals and has been nominated for awards. Her first young adult novel, The Dust of 100 Dogs, was published by Flux in February 2009 and was an Indie Next List pick for teens and has been nominated for YALSA's Best Books for Young Adults. Her next novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz, is due in Fall 2010 from Knopf.

gearing up for fall

2009-08-18T08:49:00.005-04:00

Just after Labor Day, I'll be gearing up for new clients (go HERE for more on my psychotherapy work) and setting several dates for fall writing workshops which can include sand tray work and/or ground experiences with the horses and donkeys.

The workshops typically last from 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. and tend to be useful in jump-starting new projects, getting current projects moving forward, and moving through stuck places in the creative process. These are lots of fun and include lunch.

In addition to the writing workshops, I'm offering individual coaching sessions to address a variety of writing issues. These can be scheduled at your convenience and will utilize a sliding fee scale for affordability.

This fall I'm also interested in creating a monthly writing/supportive group intended to fuel the creative process. As facilitator, I'll provide exercises and opportunities, and the group when formed can decide how it will evolve. There will be a reasonable fee per person and I'll provide snacks.

If interested in any of the above, send me an email - billie AT billiehinton DOT com. I'd love to send you more information!

good blogging going on today at:

2009-07-27T09:36:00.005-04:00

Jessica Keener's new blog, Confessions of a Hermit Crab. It's all about home and what it means, and Jessica invites (and gets, which is rare) in depth dialogue with her readers.

Murderati, where Pari Noskin Taichert is talking about writing with honesty.

reveling in the final edit

2009-06-23T09:12:00.015-04:00

by Billie Hinton

This morning I was paging through the current Moleskine notebook to see if I had missed any notes to self about the ms I'm editing. Often, when working through an edit, I will jot down notes in the Moleskine so I don't get bogged down with details I need to follow up later. It's easy enough to make a note and then come back to it.

This month I'm closing in on the final edit of the current novel. I want to get to the last page, close the Word doc, and send it on to a reader.

Last year around this time I was on a writing retreat doing a final edit of the previous novel ms, and I wrote down my goals for the week in the notebook. I didn't remember them being so clearly stated and generic to my process.

Check the movement and flow of the plot.

This involves reading through the entire ms in one sitting, with an eye out for inconsistencies, sticky spots, and dangling threads that need weaving in more carefully.

This is the read that generally reveals all the serendipities of the unconscious mind that enter the writing process unknowingly. I always find details I'd written in for no apparent reason in the first draft that in a final draft link up with other details, foreshadow events, set up moments of realization for the reader, and serve to connect the story. Like a series of dots that end up forming the final picture.

There are always a few that need a final touch, but mostly this step and this read get me really excited about the whole of the book and set me up to carry on with the rest of the edits to come.

Write the ripples.

The second read-through looks at sub-plot and how it ripples through the main story. My books tend to be quite layered and complex, and much of the "story" has to do with how each character's flaws and growth impacts that of the other characters.

I think of each character as a stone that when dropped into a pond, sends out ripples that impact everything else.

So this read looks only at this part of the story: the layers and how each character's ripples intersect.

This can be a complicated part of the process. It's one that requires (for me) a hard copy of the ms that can be spread out on the desk (or floor) and that can be manipulated as needed to look at sequencing issues. I often hold pages from different parts of the book side by side, one in each hand, to see two pieces of the story at the same time.

Illuminate the language.

I tend to write big and pare down later, and that part of the process has already been done by the time I get to a final edit. This step involves reading through once again with any eye only to language and expression. I often find in this step that the paring down worked, but needs tweaking, very lightly, to find that final sense of nailing things down in a spare, but elegant, style.

With this step I work with a dictionary (my favorite is the OED condensed 2-volume set) and a thesaurus close by. I frequently get into a trance state during this read, where there is a sense of words floating in the air around me, and all I have to do is reach up with the pen and hook them by the edges. This might be my favorite part of the writing process. It has a great deal of energy associated with it, and feels almost magical at times.

This is one part of the process that particularly seems to thrive when done on retreat, where one has Silence, space to leave pages strewn hither and yonder, no interruptions, and access to nature or simply a different environment to stimulate the brain if things get stuck.

Dive deep.

This read is the one where I take a last look at motive and personality, mystery and connection, and look for places where I held back, or let the characters off a bit too easy.

I have a tendency to protect the reader and my characters, and although I keep this in mind throughout the writing of any novel, it's this last edit where I take the harshest look at the places where I only allowed myself to scrape the surface.

My visual image while reading through for this issue is that I am swimming through the novel, page by page, and when I come to places where it feels like I am up for air, I dive deeper, looking for the underlying emotion that is almost always lurking further down.

Sometimes I choose to keep the story in that spot near the surface, and sometimes I discover that the deeper issue is critical and needs raising.

This is where looking at what is back-story and what is relevant to the story being told comes to the forefront, but whatever the final decision as the writer, it's important to the depth of the book as a whole to make these choices conscious and deliberate.

Part of the joy in this final edit process is also knowing there is a new project, usually one I'll be first drafting, waiting in the wings. Like books in my "to be read" pile, I have to have "stories to be told" jotted down or in some early stage of progress.

It's comforting, and it also serves to push me through to the finish line with the novels in progress.

calling for blog posts

2009-06-18T14:28:00.002-04:00

We're looking at a 3-day heat blitz here and I'm hoping that means at least a few writers are staying cool and working.

If you'd like to submit a post for consideration here on mystic-lit, click on my name in the side-bar and send it on!

thanks!
billie

Faking It In Fiction

2009-06-08T07:00:00.003-04:00

by Elisa Lorello

Thank you so much for hosting me on your blog. I’ve been a reader of Mystic Lit for almost a year now and always find inspiration and insight in each post.

First, I’d like to tell you about my novel FAKING IT, which is currently available at Lulu.com in print or download, Amazon, Quail Ridge Books and Music in Raleigh, NC, and Baker Books in N.Dartmouth, MA, if you’re a New England reader. You can also follow me on Twitter@elisalorello, my blog “I’ll Have What She’s Having," or on Facebook at the Faking It Fans fan page.

FAKING IT is a romantic comedy set mostly in New York City (think When Harry Met Sally meets Sex and the City). Andi, a thirty-something writing professor, meets Devin, a handsome, charming escort, and proposes an unusual arrangement: lessons in writing in exchange for lessons on how to be a better lover. When Andi and Devin break the rules of their contract that forbids them from seeing each other socially and become friends, complications ensue. FAKING IT is witty and fun, yet also has some poignant moments. It’s the perfect summer read, one that doesn’t take itself too seriously and makes for a great escape by the pool, in the backyard, or at the beach.

I’d also like to talk about one aspect of the writing process that I’m asked about quite a bit. Many readers ask me if FAKING IT is autobiographical. I assure them that it’s fiction, but I don’t deny that I used a lot of what I knew from my own experience as a jumping off point.

As a professor of academic writing, I often tell my students to “write what you know.” This happens either as the result of rigorous and active research (you become an expert on any given subject), or that which is inherently known, the result of your experiences growing up in a certain neighborhood, family, or set of circumstances, for examples. Or, you can combine both research and experience.

I can think of several popular writers who put these ideas into practice. Many of Stephen King’s novels, for example, take place in rural Maine, or New England towns. Richard Russo also writes about the small, blue collar town because he grew up in one. Woody Allen’s protagonists are typically short, Jewish guys with red hair and glasses living in Manhattan. And Nora Ephron’s characters are also Manhattan-dwellers, journalists, avid cooks and/or readers. In fact, her novel Heartburn was loosely based on her marriage (rather, the demise of it) to Carl Bernstein.

But is there a fine line between writing what you know and autobiographical writing?

In memoir, writers sometimes take creative license to enhance certain details or fragments of time or people that memory has washed away. The memoirist needs to be very careful to not cross the blurry line between nonfiction and fiction. The fiction writer sometimes does the opposite, and enhances place or character nuances with artifacts from reality. In FAKING IT, for example, Andi comes from suburban Long Island, just like me. Her brothers are musicians, just like mine. She’s a writing professor, also like me. At the time, I relied on many of these familiar cues because I had little faith in myself as a fiction writer. I saw myself as a creative nonfiction writer, a memoirist. And yet, the more I wrote, it became clear to me that I was telling her story, not mine.

But what is the difference between the truth and the lie?

Pablo Picasso once said, “Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth.” The late Donald Murray claimed that “All writing is autobiographical.” Devin and Andi debate these claims in the novel, but I think both claims are right, to a degree. For me, fiction writing is about two things: nurturing the what-if, and exploring a truth in the form of a story. The what-if is typically born out of something to or of which I’ve been a witness or a participant, directly or indirectly. It could be the result of reading someone else’s story (another claim Murray made: “As we read someone else’s story, we read (and subsequently write, parenthetical thought mine) our own.” For example, when I read Richard Russo’s novel Straight Man, I identified so strongly with the politics and absurdities of Hank’s Railton College colleagues that I drafted my own academic farce.

A truth, then, must be explored, or denied, or avoided, or manipulated, but eventually revealed. Is this truth mine, or is it my protagonists’? Is it my story, or is it theirs?

In nonfiction, it’s mine. In fiction, it’s theirs. But their truths undoubtedly make me examine my own. And I’ll use whatever artifacts I can to tell the story that brings that truth to light, in fiction or non.

Which stories have you read that bring you back to your own? What lies make you realize your truths?

Elisa Lorello is the author of Faking It and soon to be released sequel, Ordinary World. She also teaches first-year writing full time at NC State University. For more information go to her website.

excellent opportunity for editing services

2009-06-05T09:03:00.004-04:00

Friend and writing mentor Peggy Payne is offering a 40% discount on all her editing services through June 30th.

I can't recommend Peggy highly enough - she read the first book-length monstrosity I wrote years back and was key in helping me pull the plum out of that very large pie. Later on, she helped me nail down the beginning of the 'new' book, which went pretty far down the road to publication.

Peggy has a gift for helping writers find the strengths in their works and build on them. If you've been wanting editing assistance, the reduced rates are a real bargain.

a day of writing with horses and sand

2009-04-28T08:58:00.003-04:00

A Day of Writing With Horses and Sand

(no experience with horses necessary, no mounted work)

Two dates available: Friday May 29th OR Saturday May 30th (you are welcome to register for both days if you like)

10 a.m. - 4 p.m.

Come to November Hill and work on poetry, fiction, nonfiction, journalling, or anything you like, in the company of horses, miniature donkeys, and myself.

Schedule for these days:

10 - 10:30: introductions and intentions for the day

10:30 - 12: time with horses and donkeys

12 - 1: writing time (you may work on your own or do guided writing with me)

1 - 2: lunch - bring your own, beverages provided - with discussion

2 - 4: time with the sandtrays

Cost: $75 for the day (reduced this year to help with budgeting in these tighter times)

Email to register HERE

New Opportunities For Chatham Writers

2009-04-22T14:58:00.011-04:00

by Judy Hogan

Chatham County, where I live, in Moncure, the southeast corner, is setting off a whole new opportunity for creative writers, both as teachers and students. When I suggested to Carl Thompson, Director of Continuing Education in Chatham and one of our County Commissioners, that the college could begin a Creative Writing Program, he said, "Do it."

So Maggie Zwilling, the Community Service Courses Coordinator, and I put together a committee, which has worked hard to design a program and to find teachers. The biggest dilemma was getting the word out, but we've had the able help of Forrest Greenslade, who does promotion for the Chatham Artist Guild (our Artists' Studio Tour is well-known in these parts and farther afield, too). Karen Pullen, who is a mystery writer with two books with an agent and a new MFA in Popular Fiction from the University of Southern Maine, has been quite helpful as we developed this, as has Chris Bouton, who had been working with the Writers' Program at Chatham Arts.

They'd been offering writing workshops each year, but had decided to stop, so her energy and ideas were very welcome. Maggie kept us informed of how the college administration worked, and eased our way through the obstacle course, as needed. Kim Overcash, who teaches college English classes, threw in her perspectives. We were all strong-minded types, but out of our discussions and perspectives, we've created something we're all proud of. I think the variety of courses from 20 different instructors for the 2009-10 academic year, will offer many people something they'd like.

We kickoff this new venture with a gathering open to the public on Sunday, April 26, at the Pittsboro Campus, very close to downtown Pittsboro, just west of town on Business 64, 1-4 PM.

Margaret Maron, a nationally known, best-selling mystery author will speak on her Writing Life. Attendees will be able to meet most of the instructors, ask questions, and give feedback in smaller groups by genre (fiction, poetry, creative non-fiction, and children's literature).

I'm holding my breath. It has been a dream that's now edging toward reality. Chatham is close to Raleigh, Durham, Chapel Hill, Sanford, not that far from Asheboro, Burlington, Greensboro, Southern Pines.

Will the students come for a Saturday workshop or a weekly class? Their fees will pay the instructors, and we're hoping to pay them more than community colleges generally do, assuming the students arrive. Please spread the word about our excellent instructors, published and experienced. North Carolina has a strong teaching experience over the years. Successful writers, like Maron, are willing to share. Our website will be added to the Central Carolina Community College website in July, and you may contact me HERE for more information.

Thanks, Billie, for the opportunity to blog. I myself write traditional mysteries, and when I get a book published (working on that now with Sisters in Crime and their Guppies group (Great Unpublished)), I know I'll need to blog. Nothing like plunging in. So I have.

Judy Hogan, founding editor of Carolina Wren Press (1976-91), has published five poetry books and two prose works, Watering the Roots in a Democracy and The PMZ Poor Woman's Cookbook. 25 years of her extensive diaries are in the Special Collections at the Duke University Library.
Judy was a founder of the N.C. Writers' Network and served as its first chair from 1984-87. Judy teaches journal and poetry writing at CCCC in Pittsboro and also offers some workshops at her Hoganvillaea Farm in Moncure. She's a freelance editor and writing consultant and chairs the Creative Writing Program Advisory Committee at CCCC Continuing Education.
She sells bread, eggs, herbs, vegetables, fruit at the Pittsboro Farmers' Market on Thursdays from April-November. Her writing focus since 2007 has been on traditional mysteries, which she's in the process of publishing, with the help of Sisters in Crime and the Guppies.

The Greasy-Elements Approach to Writing

2009-04-19T20:34:00.000-04:00

by Peggy Payne

Writing or practice of any art form—or, for that matter, any kind of problem-solving—relies heavily on one intermediate skill: Greasing the Elements.

I realized this while doing the Word Jumbles in my local News & Observer. As you probably know, these puzzles are scrambled letters that must be unscrambled to make a word.

The hardest way to do a Word Jumble is to sit and think hard in a methodical way. That is finally effective and so it’s my fallback strategy, but it’s the slow laborious route: the number 3 way.

The quickest method (number 1) is when the word magically leaps out of the jumble at first glance. That works with both art and word puzzles. The answer simply appears. With fiction, these pop-up ideas usually pop out of prepared ground: I’ve worked on the scene, then put it aside and done something physical like driving or gardening, organizing objects or taking a shower. Then the ideas burst forth.

But of course that doesn’t always happen. So there’s number 2, the middle way, the Greasy Elements method, halfway between magic and hard labor. Using this technique with a Word Jumble, I view the five or six letters as big detached forms, each about six feet high. Pale green and translucent, as it happens, but that’s not so important. What’s important is that they’re slippery and wobbly. They slip and slide all over each other until they come to rest in the right order. Takes a minute longer than magic but is faster and more effective than say trying out each letter as Letter One and so on….

So in writing fiction, it works the same way. Let the elements of a scene—the people and place and circumstances slip and slide all over each other until they click into place on the page.

Remember the movie Apollo 13? Tom Hanks and crew were up in the spacecraft and something went wrong, and he radioed in an unforgettable tone of totally-controlled emotion: “Houston, we have a problem.”

What happened then on the ground was that the head guy threw together in a pile all the physical elements that the astronauts had available to them in their cabin. Engineers gathered around that pile of stuff and started fitting pieces together in different combos. They pulled together the gizmo that was needed and just in the nick of time, and were able to tell the characters in the air what to do.

That’s how it works with objects. With words and ideas, it’s the same: you throw the elements in a heap and see how things act on each other and combine and recombine. It's amazing what energy they carry.

Peggy Payne is author of books including the novels Sister India, a New York Times Notable Book, and Revelation, screen rights purchased by Synergy Films. She has written for most of the major American newspapers and many national magazines. She is a manuscript/career consultant to other writers and blogs at Peggy Payne's Boldness Blog.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, or the waves, for that matter?

2009-04-05T19:13:00.016-04:00

by Margaret Martin

Life, as he showed his friend, is to be savored. And you can't just read about it in a book -- but you can certainly have a good time looking for it.
-John Baxter

Recently a friend sent me a link to a CBS video, Paris is for Book Lovers, which I watched with a smile throughout. Now I understand, he said. This makes you just an amateur! I had read a review of John Baxter's new book A Pound of Paper not long before, so the ghosts of bibliomania were lingering in my memory. "Ghosts" always applies to my love of words and writing, and what I feel is a natural urge within us all to express ourselves.

I have always loved words and the landscapes they created within me, yet my love affair dramas, its peaks and valleys, were often also confusing, and, at worst, downright depressing. Words and their authentic nature as energy units, as poetic pearls, their way of mixing images, emotional expression, simply awaited the "pure servant," I thought. Therefore my task was to BE that pure servant. That's where both the problem and the solution comes in. Images haunted me, in dramatic colors, sequences, and sounds which often were entertaining and sometimes frightening. They became frightening when I thought to capture them, to study them, as Nabokov might his beautiful blues (butterflies).

Often the images I tried to capture seemed distorted when on paper. A writing class professor once said, if you want to write for National Geographic, or ask for humanitarian donations, this is not the place for you! I tried to glean from his comments some help in "toning down" the image to find the truth of the feeling, with only a little success. I still did not understand how to relate the images and sensations within my mind to the way I perceived my everyday world.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, in his One Hundred Years of Solitude, gave me a gift, as did Lorrie Moore, Carole Maso, Michael Ondaatje, Neil Gaiman, Virginia Woolf, of course the venerable William Faulkner - many more. Following the crumbs or meals I found with these, I eventually found my map that displayed to me the perfection of us as energy first and matter second. Sensory memories all have natural patterns that can be clearly defined when we do not fear our own minds and their power to create. Love inspires our creativity.

Wright Morris, one of my favorite writers as I was growing up (in college and after), taught me the wonderful way that one image can anchor an experience, and how that one image can begin to move and change shape and form as a mind makes its way, creating experience. A mind "on a tear" can lose control, as on a wild motorcycle ride escaping from the law-makers whose laws you have broken, just as a mind calmed and inspired can be awed by the poetic beauty of how life forms change and grow.

Ancient philosophers wrote in ways that displayed layers of thought, the simple luminescence of a mind reflecting itself, knowing it, and polishing the mirrors as new senses expressed themselves. Joseph Campbell, Josiah Royce, Kathy Oddenino all add to my reinforcing the strength and beauty of "knowing myself" and coming to know the world as I do.

I was born the third of triplets to parents from the American South, grew up in Africa, and came to settle for a while in a few different places in America, now Chatham County, NC. I carry my panorama of visions and views and my experience changes me every day.

The smell and sight of our frangipani tree which we sat in as four and five-year-olds, the dry corn stalks and mud stools we stepped on and ran through, the squeals of laughter as we fell together in the sand pile. The thick harmattan dust from Sahara sand, seemingly so far away and unknown, the brilliant blue water against red clay at the rock quarry where we swam some hot afternoons.

The dreams of thunder, rain, and musical bracelets against wrists and ankles, the sound of seeds shaken in gourds as drums played. The caravan of figures I saw in my dreams now smiles and waves. Now, this Spring wind tells me of the weather elsewhere, what's coming and going, and my computer hums in its own little world. The occasional flashes of fear or frustration complete themselves as strands in my own pearl necklace as my nerves tell me their stories and we go on, healing, changing, living the stories of our lives.

M.E. Martin was born the third of triplets to Southern Baptist missionaries to West Africa, where she grew up. She has lived (happily) in North Carolina since 2004, and published her book Sensing Infinity: Finding the Love of My Life, in 2007. She blogs at: It's A New World Every Heartbeat.

The Agony and Ecstasy of an Emerging Writer

2009-04-05T15:47:00.016-04:00

by Greta James

I’m blogging for Mystic-Lit with this quote by Sylvia Plath taped to the wall:

And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
~Sylvia Plath

This posthumous statement from Ms. Plath reassures me that I should not let self-doubt keep me from writing. It’s not the first time she has helped me.

Forty years ago, she unknowingly provided encouragement through The Bell Jar. I was a young mother and wife then. Her fictional and/or autobiographical account of lifting a metaphorical bell jar in which she felt trapped and stifled was, when I read it in the early 60’s, the first time I knew that I wasn’t the only person who felt that way.

Until then, depression easily trapped me in a bubble which floated near the ceiling. People who thought I was in the body with whom they were interacting had no idea that “I” was really hovering over their heads. Ms. Plath helped me escape.

The now empty bubble awaits another ensnarement, but is not to blame for my agony. It’s the process of writing which is responsible for both my agony and ecstasy.

I can best describe my process of writing by depicting it as a pendulum. It’s my understanding that if you start a pendulum swinging in one direction, after a few hours you will notice that it is swinging in a quite different direction. I don’t know how this happens with a real pendulum but I think I’ve figured out how my metaphorical pendulum works.

In a typical week I write approximately four hours daily. This is fun, pure fun. It doesn’t matter if I’m working on my first novel (almost eight chapters of approximately 16 pages each) or on the short story which is in the editing stage. My daughter loves the short story and she’s a discriminating reader who has no problem with giving solicited constructive criticism.

Prior to June 2008 I worried about being bored in retirement. No way! When I’m writing, time flies. Whether I’m finding out what the characters are going to do next, researching something, trying out different descriptive words or phrases, it’s a blast!

I registered for the NC Writers’ Network Conference in April and can’t wait to attend the all day workshop of Five Ways into a Story (Fiction) with Quinn Dalton.

Same way with registering for the Triangle Area Freelancers 2009 Nonfiction Writers' Conference. I’ll get to hear Peggy Payne’s keynote address and learn about The Craft and Business of Freelance Writing. Life is good.

I scour the shelves of the PTA Thrift Shop and Habitat’s Home Store for books about writing or writers. Nirvana!

That’s the ecstasy.

How do I agonize? Let me count the ways.

I actively search for opportunities to learn more about writing, all kinds of writing. Then I wonder if I’m avoiding the work of writing. I think of “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.” What if I’m the epitome of those who can, write. Those who can’t, go to workshops, read books, attend conferences, read about writing, or (in this case) write about writing.

I go to a writing workshop and, as always, learn something(s) new and helpful. I meet another published author and we’re networking. But…I compare myself to her and start to focus on what I haven’t done instead of what I’m doing.

Having finished the rough draft of the short story, I send it off to my first reader (daughter, Jeri Lynn). But I become focused on my mortality because I discover that MY memories are not the same as those people involved in the actual events I borrowed for my story. Somehow this led to my speculation that I may not be long for this world.

Weird? Perhaps, but that focus on mortality probably got its jump start from a recent comment made to me. I was leaving a writers' group in which we had been encouraged to READ. On the way out, someone said, “Life is too short. I’m not going to waste my time reading.” I later ask myself, “If life is so short and I’m sixty-five, am I’m wasting time writing?”

Now, trying to summarize this process of writing, I’ve reviewed what I’ve written, pinned wet laundry to the clothesline, and meandered outside to the front yard to watch the fascinating killdeer with their faked “broken-wing” dance.

I’ve decided that I am acting like the killdeer, but that’s okay. The killdeer flops around on the ground, wings spread, to distract predators from its nest of eggs. My dance of distraction is agonizing. I’m protecting my precious nest of writing by agonizing.

Greta James' bio:

Retired teacher and social worker, AB Education in English and Speech from Glenville State College; Master's in Social Work from WVU. Taught Special Education. Have done all kinds of social work, Protective Services, Health, Community Mental Health, Private Practice. Was one of the first Adult Basic Education Teachers in WVA. Related to Jesse James. My only published writing was a short story in my college paper annual contest back in 1960-something. Love to travel, camp, read, be entertained by grandchildren. Lived in Chatham Co. since 1980. Native of WVA. Considering enrolling in the soon-to-be implemented Creative Writing Program at CCCC which is a certificate not a degree program. Regardless of outcome, writing has opened up a whole new world for me. Gray headed but still think of myself as a blond. Often laugh to keep from crying, as taught by Mom.

Greta James also has a blog: To Write Is Right.

second call for local writers

2009-03-30T18:00:00.005-04:00

I had two responses to the previous call, and one follow-through, which we enjoyed a couple weeks ago. Thanks, Doug!

Second call for Chatham County writers to guest blog here on anything to do with writing - the process, the craft, the lifestyle, publishing, etc. I do ask that guest bloggers commit to visit the blog while your piece is up top and respond to any comments that come in. That's just good blogging etiquette, and a great way to make connections.

Instructions on how to submit are to your right, on the sidebar.

Peggy Payne and Judy Hogan have both promised blogs, so stay tuned - I know whatever they offer will be good. :)

a little blessing from third grade

2009-03-26T09:22:00.000-04:00

by Billie Hinton

For the second time in two weeks I awakened to dense fog, and today I've been infatuated with the way the soft white causes other things, like open barn windows, and wet tree trunks, to stand out in stark relief. Which is intriguing, that something so untouchable and ethereal brings out the sharp edges of the things it surrounds.

For some reason, today's fog made me remember third grade, which was the year I was skipped ahead to a fifth grade class. It was a hard year for me, but for a part of that year we had a student teacher, whose name I can't recall, but I do remember the way she looked.

She had an intense passion for teaching and particularly for literature and poetry, and one of our assignments was to write a poem and then prepare it for display.

The poem I wrote was titled Mr. Mist and although I do not remember it entirely, I can recall a few lines, and the fact that the poem personified mist as a man who came wearing a "brown hat and cloak." I clearly remember being very excited about using the word cloak, which I'd obviously read in a book and while no one around me ever used that word, I loved it and wanted to incorporate it into my poem.

We had to read our work out loud, which was difficult for me, as I was very shy. It was also difficult because my audience, the fifth graders, had all written very funny, silly limerick style poems and mine was so serious and full of metaphor and imagery they just sat there while I read it, which I took as negative critique of the highest order.

The student teacher had pulled me aside earlier in the day to tell me how wonderful the poem was, and to praise the various elements I'd used, most of which were new to me. She was clearly excited about my work, and I remember her giving me a little hug, and saying how proud she was to hang the poem on the bulletin board. I'd copied it in newly-learned cursive handwriting and taped it onto a piece of bright yellow construction paper, and the incongruity and intention of that choice also made her smile. I explained that I wanted to make the contrast visible - the sunshine yellow paper for a poem that was all about mist and darkness.

That I recall all these details so vividly, all these years later, makes it obvious that her attention that day meant a lot to me, and I'm sure it was one of the earliest moments when I felt like someone else saw me for what I felt I was - a writer.

And how perfect it is that today, surrounded by mist and fog and the dark shapes made more intense, that wonderful feeling has come forth again, fully formed, a little blessing.

First-Person Scoundrel, Deferred

2009-03-14T11:29:00.001-04:00

by Doug Berg

You’ll see lots of writing in first-person that looks like it’s trying to show what a good person that writer is. That’s because, with a bit of practice and an ounce of native talent, you learn early how much easier it is to tell lies on paper than in person. You can be far away when someone reads your lies. They can’t see your eyes.

The temptation is strong: it’s not a lie if you believe it yourself. While you’re across town, cooking up—that is, suspending disbelief in—another scheme, your reader is enmeshed in some inspiring tale of a soul in tortured search of purity.

You dress your strumpet in pretty words and dare all to deny that truth is beauty. You satisfy your readers’ wish to identify with something a little higher up than their own craven selves. You take them away from their true selves for a while and make them feel like better people. Better than the crumb-groveling, tail-end of the conniving pack that they are.

And they can’t get enough of this stuff. It must be habit-forming, judging by the way the shelves are full it.

Maybe the writer can feel the same effect during the process.

If writing is a type of thinking, you get an opening line and go from there. Maybe you end up elsewhere from where you’d be if you had merely thought it. Maybe lying about what a goodie you are ultimately gets boring. Truth has a way of creeping in. Enter a type of writing that features a first-class scoundrel as narrator, the bad guy as narrator, the characterless character.

Dostoyevsky and many others came up with that idea, but it may have been Edgar Allen Poe who pioneered the idea of the first-person scoundrel. Then along came James M. Cain and took it to a new level: the first-person scoundrel, deferred. You know from the start that a Poe narrator is a baddie.

In Cain’s The Postman Always Rings Twice, you’re with the guy for a while before he does something nasty. It’s said that Postman inspired Albert Camus to write The Stranger. Poe and Cain wrote short stories and novellas. The Stranger stays with the guy longer and squeaks across the finish line as a novel.

First-person scoundrel is a hard form to sustain. It’s great fun for a while, but can become somewhat of a straightjacket. An addiction. Even the worst among us need to pretend we’re good sometimes. Enter the first-person scoundrel, deferred.

Addictions do have a way of moving from entry-level, on to the hard stuff. But you’ve only bought yourself a little time. You discover you can’t take yourself on a picaresque crime spree for more than fifty thousand words without running out of steam. Once you write that death scene, you’re going to want to bring in a few fresh points of view.

And what about that death scene? The hangman’s noose has been overdone. The noose gives you a night of flashbacks before the warden comes—all of which help you make it to that hundred thousand word mark. Start off with a hint at what you did to land yourself in this cell, get them reading your list of flashbacks, hold out for that carrot on a stick of a deed that finally got you caught. But before you know it, you’ve had to abandon your first-person scoundrel; you’ve gone either Damon Runyon or Don Giovanni.

And since you signaled that you were a bad guy from the start, you never get to try a shot at first-person scoundrel, deferred. You’re hardly breaking new ground here—worse, you’re failing in your shameless attempt to pander to the desires of others to be entertained.

Say you determine to avoid those pitfalls, instead getting your extra mileage out of the first-person scoundrel, deferred. Soon you wander into the wasteland that is the novella. Eventually you find yourself out beyond that seventy-five thousand word mark, but it brings little comfort. You might at this point want to take stock of how you’ve been spending your time.

Say what they will, they can’t deny that you look like you’ve had a whale of a good time. But be careful: that may be all they can say.

Doug Berg is a self-described “recreational writer” who lives with his wife in Chatham County.

call to local writers

2009-03-11T09:11:00.004-04:00

(photo by Matthew Cromer)

Writers in Chatham County have recently come together in what is to be a monthly writers' morning out, and in appreciation I'd like to offer a call to fellow writers.

If you live in Chatham County and write, consider submitting a guest blog post to mystic-lit for publication here sometime in March or April.

Take some time to sift back through the archives and familiarize yourself with what mystic-lit is all about. If you have something to say about writing, its process, the craft, getting published (or trying to!), or the lifestyle of the writer, put it in an essay and send it to me.

Feel free to add photos if they add to the piece.

And if you happen to use Blogger already, it makes it really easy if you write the essay in Blogger, copy and paste, and send it to me in that format. If not, I'll do that part for you once the piece is accepted.

A big thank you to Al Manning for pulling this group together.

The Writer's Middle Finger: Part Two

2009-01-11T09:49:00.008-05:00

(On Avoiding Disappointment.)

by A.S. King

So, you’re ready to write what you want to write. You’re ready to ignore dumb advice and name your characters Saffron or Millicent and have them drive obscure cars named after small South American mammals. You’re ready to hoist those middle fingers and say, “Screw you world! I’m gonna write something TOTALLY ORIGINAL and not think about what shelf it might land on in a bookstore!” Some business-minded readers are shaking their heads. This is not the way to sell books. True, maybe. But I think it’s definitely the way to become a writer.

Growing a writer takes time.

Do you remember those people in junior high school who arrived in Izod sweaters, then met the weird girl in class, and suddenly chopped their hair, layered on the eyeliner, and bought a Clash album? Those might have been the same people who moved up to high school and traded in their Clash album for rap music and a pair of baggy jeans. I mean no offense to anyone who did this. We all did this in our own way. We were growing and learning and figuring out who we were. Bravo to us. But it took a while, remember?

I like to think that writing has an adolescence period, too. Like life-adolescence, writer-adolescence is an awkward and exciting time, filled with the influence of whomever you allow in. Be careful. A few cynical thoughts from the wrong people can steer you away from yourself. There are plenty of bullies and downers and know-it-alls in this business – people who want to startle you with publishing “facts”. You need to remember why you’re here. You want to write, right?

Publishing and writing are two completely different things.

Only fifteen years ago, it was hard to find out about publishing. You had to buy Writer’s Market books and read trade magazines and find real flesh-and-blood humans to talk to about how to write a query letter, or what a royalty statement meant, or how to double check your contract. Now, with the internet, we can find out a lot about publishing in a matter of days – which is a great thing and also not a great thing. I’m all for being educated, but I meet a lot of writers who are over-interested in the publishing side of things before they really start writing. After a story or two, or even a novel, they ask, “When should I just give up?” Give up? Give up what? Are you writing? Are you enjoying writing? Isn’t that what you’re here for? “I do like writing, but I thought I’d be published by now.” I understand this. I understand that it’s nice to be rewarded for hard work. I understand the need for concrete success. I also understand that every time you tell someone you’re a writer, the person asks, “Are you published?”

For this scenario and others, I feel fortunate that I grew my writer’s middle finger in a cave. No internet, no email. No outside opinions, no unsolicited advice, and no dangerous comparisons. Once I got a computer, my worst procrastination enemy was solitaire. I didn’t talk to anyone about writing. I didn’t read about query letters or the publishing world – I don’t think I knew what a query letter was until I was writing my third novel. I’m glad I didn’t, too. My writing pretty much sucked.

Here is a picture of my writer-adolescence.

While you suck, embrace your suck.

Really. Stop taking yourself so seriously. Writing isn’t everything. It probably isn’t going to make you much money. It especially isn’t going to make you money in the beginning, because we all suck then. Yep. Beginners suck. Saddle up. Set realistic goals and have some fun. Work until you can tell what sucks and what doesn’t, all by yourself. You don’t want to be one of those totally-sane-yet-tone-deaf American Idol contestants, do you?

On one hand, you can ask every passerby, “Do these jeans make my ass look fat?” and you might learn something about other people’s perceptions from their answers. On the other hand, you’re the only person who matters. If you think your ass looks fat in those jeans, no one else’s opinion counts. Once you embrace your suck, you are less likely to believe it when your mom says your sucky story about robot kittens is “Just wonderful!” but you’re also more likely to believe it when your gut tells you how good something is, no matter who doesn’t like it. (Because someone will always dislike it.)

While you rock, embrace your rock.

Life is hard is hard enough without having to fight yourself through the good times. Don’t be one of those downers, okay? When you finally get a story or poem accepted, say, “Yay!” and not, “Whatever,” and when you get suggestions or rejections, try to learn from them gracefully, but hold your ground about your ideas. Anything can work if it’s done well, no matter what the so-called experts say. In your beginning years, celebrate every improvement and aim always for better writing. This leads to a healthier personal writing environment – which you’ll need, because one day, if you keep at it, you’ll be juggling copy-edits, future proposals, promotion, and events while you’re writing the next two books. There will be no room for negativity.

Isolate yourself from time to time. Turn off your internet. Blow off your writer’s forums*. Stop reading the deal pages at Publisher’s Marketplace.** Listen to your gut – even if it suggests something completely insane. You will know when you are on the right path for you. I once owned a Human League album and had a hair tail that I dyed pink. I once wore a white beret and pierced my nose. While I loved both looks, and know they served their purpose, I’m still glad neither made it to the author page of The Dust of 100 Dogs.

*The author would like it known that she loves her writer’s forum (Backspace – the best $40 you’ll ever spend) and is not trying to say anything bad about writer’s forums.
** Similarly, I love Publisher’s Marketplace and mean no offense to it or anyone affiliated with it.

A.S. King recently returned to Pennsylvania after a decade in Ireland. Her short fiction has appeared in numerous journals and has been nominated for Best New American Voices 2010. The Dust of 100 Dogs is her first young adult novel and will be in fine book stores around February 1st, 2009. You can find more here: www.thedustof100dogs.com .

The Cosmos of Relationship (reprised)

2008-12-27T11:56:00.004-05:00

by Joseph Gallo

The Cosmos Of Relationship

First off, I want to thank Fabienne for her post last Friday, which helped spark this post into being. She got me thinking well beyond my brain’s ability to do so without consequences.

For those of you with your televisions still plugged in, Carl Sagan's seminal 1980 series Cosmos will air on the Discovery Science Channel beginning January 8, 2008, Tuesday evenings at 9 pm EST.

Why do I mention this? Because there runs a rich thread of associative relationships throughout the series, one that I find of metaphorical similarity here among us as writers and explorers in our own writes.

It was those relationships that intrigued me when I first watched Cosmos. These universal interrelationships continue to capture my daydreaming now in nearly every aspect of my mostly mundane daily life.

Sagan’s unbridled and childlike enthusiasm as narrator of this wonderful series, his reverence in and for the cosmic wonder and awe that dwarfs and magnifies the sum total of our human experience, is what I connect with most.

It is what I try most to impart to my writing students to develop and nourish foremost in their desire to write: a practical and authentic reverence for wonder and awe. I can get downright militant on this point.

If you can not stand alone and look up into the night sky with the endearing embrace of what it is to be alive, to recalibrate your proper size and position, to overlay against that glorious shimmering backdrop all the trivial matters of one’s daily struggles, and to nurture the humbling cognizance of all you do not know and cannot imagine, then you will likely never write anything essential or compelling.

It is the standard before which I hold myself every day.

This came natural to me when quite often, as a child, I would walk along the perimeter of the schoolyard fence at recess knowing that I belonged out there as much as here. I was certain my star people would return for me any moment and I would travel to attain my proper education and learn the true range and scope of my being a human being.

Relationship: Where am I in my own life? Where am I in the lives of others? What threads bind and break, what stories are being told, and which remain, as yet, untellable? Where do I fit in my own skin? Have I allowed room for growth and do I make space for all my universes?

If you make time to watch Cosmos, whether for the first time or a timely reviewing, I would urge you to immerse yourself in the many interconnections, micro and macro, Sagan presents and addresses. Place yourself among them in the context of your daily and writing lives. Ask questions. Imagine answers.

In the 1997 film, Contact, based on Sagan’s 1985 book of the same name and released just seven months after he passed away, there is a scene that always gets me right to the core. It happens when scientist Dr. Ellie Arroway (Jody Foster) is hurtling at superluminal speed through a vibrant wormhole via the travel pod designed by alien neighbors who previously send an encoded message for its construction.

She stops in her journey for a moment before a pageant of lush stars with a burgeoning core of light pulsing in a black womb of space and, as she looks with widened wonder, says, “Some celestial event. No words. No words to describe it. They should’ve sent a poet. So beautiful, so beautiful. I had no idea.”

I literally cannot stop myself from quietly shuddering tears and nodding my head in agreement during this scene. I want to be there. And for a few magic movie moments, I am. But I really want to go. I want to go again.

Whether or not I will have any conscious thought of it, I will, in time, go for real. Not as the first poet in space, perhaps, as I’ve long wished to be, but as I re-elementalize back into all that conspired to make me.

Whenever I look up into the night sky I know that is where I will eventually return. It is my retirement home. Yours too. We are, after all, as Sagan says, starstuff.

On this note I want to share a poem I like a lot on this first day of the new year and wish you all a creatively prosperous 2008.

Muons Are Passing Through You

This is what is: You are walking down an empty road
in the middle of the night. The poor moon drips weak
light on you like waxy tallow and it makes you cold.

Your lover has informed you that your services are no
longer needed and your heart feels like a cancer, your
own soul is like a thorn you have been stabbed with.

Dark hedges line the road and there are voices
whispering within them: they are the voices of the
lost, the damned, the many who will be legion.
And they know your name.

And this is true: You are a stardust person.
Muons are passing through you as you read this.
Cosmic rays are building you up and breaking you down.
Seas are evaporating, gases are freezing into planets,
planets are spinning off into the void.

Hold out your hand and watch the pions dance,
watch your nuclei exchanging forces with the universe,
watch the miracles ebb and flow as endless joy
folds into endless silence and everything is
everywhere all at once and it goes on and on.

And here is more: The infinite is already in you.
It is in you and of you, and it may save you.
But if it saves you, it will give you no choice.
So go down the road. Be death, be stardust, enter
the duality known to the generations who are vanished,
who left behind this double image, but only half
the message, just the instructions for how to begin.

~ Eleanor Lerman (from Our Post-Soviet History Unfolds)

by Joseph Gallo

Chrimbo Dindin (reprised)

2008-12-24T10:04:00.005-05:00

by Joseph Gallo

I doubt many of us will get much writing done today. Or online reading or blog commenting. Most of us will be spending The Big Day with family, friends, among acquaintances, attending religious services, or preparing feasts for sharing the bounty of the season that is living in 21st Century Western Civilization.

Some of us will be alone. By choice or circumstance, by accident or by graces far wiser than we can ever hope to fully comprehend, many of us will be alone with only the company of our own reflection. That usually means something might well get written.

And if you’ve ever been alone on Christmas Day, then you know what of I speak. If you’re American, you’re hard-wired to want. The object of our want may change, but the underlying wanting of whatever it is is imprinted in our consumer DNA as if by clever and continuous gene splicing.

What I want today has nothing to do with anything that can be purchased by any means whatsoever. I want my children to be happy and to live their lives boldly, free of guilt or regret. I want health care and adequate sustenance to be made available to all who need it. I want rigorous selective licensure for cell phone users and their IQ’s must surpass their pant size. I want a European girlfriend and to marry again one day—soon, please.

I want atom bombs to molecularly disintegrate in their sleeping silos as if by magic. I wish for wars and rumors of same to cease permanently and forever and their mongerers shot off into space in the booster rockets of dismantled warheads. I want all presidential election advertising to be made criminal and punishable by 20 years in mime school. I want January 2009 to get here like 7 years ago.

This morning I happened to catch a few minutes of the third Austin Powers movie, Goldmember. There is a silly scene between Austin and his fajah (father) played by the affable Michael Caine. They engage in a recollective exchange in hipster-Soho-slang, subtitled with an English translation of the meaning of their purposely inane Britticisms. One of their colloquial expressions caught my ear and, one more time, I laughed out loud.

It was something I wish each of you, my fellow Mystic-Litarians, whether surrounded by love with your family or alone with your firelit shadow: a feasty Chrimbo dindin. That would be, of course, Christmas dinner in the parlance of the cravatted paisleyed übercool.

If after you’ve duly devoured the Yule bird, dispatched the trembling dumplings, and carved your name curdly into the figgy pudding, make a moment and write something. Before you nod off to the lacey strains of one more rumkissed eggnog, scribble something, anything, small and insignificant, like this, perhaps, if only to mark this moment that you are alive, that you breathe and believe that all things wondrous might yet be possible.

So Happy Chrimbo Dindin and a Merrybum Shaggalot to all!

Christmas Eve (reprised)

2008-12-21T23:45:00.002-05:00

by Joseph Gallo

Most of us have dear memories of holiday traditions with family and friends. This is one of mine, a way to memorialize my maternal grandmother and the little accidental lessons we learn about what the true spirit of giving is all about.

Tamales

These houses in East L.A. are all built of corn husks and masa.
The same familiar smell of sopa fideo leads even the most blind
into a kitchen where there is always an abuelita in seamed hose
and short-heeled black shoes cauldroned at the stove
stirring cantos in the broth that sings just about ready.

As a boy, I hunted for those savory pieces of miracle meat
hidden like jewels crowned in seasoned Mexican angel hair
curling in tides of delicate spices steeped first in Gramma’s
heart, then in black Chihuahuan cast iron.

It’s Christmas Eve and the couches are cold and covered
in clear plastic. The tree is afire with colored light as sainted
votives move playful ghosts across communion-white walls
in this living room. The plastic is for me, the brusero,
a thin shield against all the food and dirt a young hellion
can devil onto brocade cushions pristine as collection plates.

This is the year Gramma will break her wrist after slipping while
carrying the first tray heavy with wrapped red, wrapped sweet,
sweating and steamed from the tamale line where the daughters,
the cousins, the aunts, shoulder to shoulder, the sisters—the
women—have midwifed something divine to be adored.

And this is the year Gramma will go to the hospital, have her wrist
set and cast, return home and resume wrapping right where she left off.
Sweet ones, red ones, no fuss, say no more about it. The men will find out
about it when their empty beer cans bring them in for more between rounds
of patio recountings of infamous fighters: Rudy Navarrone, Julio Reynoso,
Hector Braca, Ernesto Morales, and of course my Uncle George.

The cold weather has kept us kids inside and guessing by weight, shape,
and vigorous shaking as to which might be whose. Then, by accident,
we discover instant refried beans as we slide across the couches
making farts on the fitted plastic and laugh the candles right out!

This year the tamales are sweeter somehow and Gramma is smiling,
Manishevitz wine in her pale hand, glinting ornaments from her glasses.
And as we eat I watch her, amazed she has not said a single word about her wrist
which surely throbs like a fractured bell in her silent bones, and I see that joy
is suffering wrapped in Christmas bandages and corn husks, red and sweet
as candy canes, swollen and breathless when the toys at last march out of the tree.

Joseph Gallo
December 1992

coming this week - reprising Gallo

2008-12-21T09:34:00.004-05:00

Last year mystic-lit contributor Joseph Gallo graciously offered posts for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year's Day. He blew all of us away with every one of them, and I'd like to make those three amazing posts a regular part of our holiday season here on mystic-lit.

Starting tomorrow, they will appear again. If you missed them last year, come by and be prepared for a treat.

And happy winter solstice to all.

writers READ

2008-11-24T19:32:00.006-05:00

Karen Dionne, of Backspace, came up with this nifty way to support authors (as well as our local economies if you buy local and indie) in this tough economic environment.

I'm making my list and will be posting it soon.

more wise words

2008-11-05T23:21:00.000-05:00

One must have chaos in oneself in order to give birth to a dancing star.

- Frederick Nietzsche

Possible Places

2008-10-24T09:38:00.001-04:00

Possible Places
by Joseph Gallo

I woke up earlier than I needed to on this fine October morning.

Outside my window, shattered crystal droplets beading silver mercury on the green grass; dew-laden webs scattered like spiral galaxies caught in the bushes after passing too close during the night; three autumn oaks glazed in amber by some unseen source just now parting the veiled mountain ridges.

And before telling myself the story of who I am and what I might accomplish in the brief chapter of this day, I find myself traveled in time and standing amid the clustered consoles of record racks and the bank of soundproof stereophonic listening booths at Wallichs Music City in the Eastland Center Mall of West Covina, California.

It is 1963.

Lying on my bed, I find myself looking around.
It is much smaller than I remember.
Back then it was grand and cavernous.
Dreams lived there.

The storefront glass is sparkling beneath giant cursive letters that spell out Wallichs Music City in shimmering white hot lights ten feet tall. Inside on the walls, long-necked broadswords hang fretted and stringed in sixes and twelves whispering Rickenbacker, Gretsch, Fender, and Excalibur in an enticement of electric nobility.

Atop wide display cases that cut canyons into deep aisles, a still life snared in silent skins thunders metalflake, booms and crashes in gleaming Zildjian gold, grooved with glorious bolts of splashed accent lighting.

One of these Crown jewels, a red one, would soon come home with me to become my very first drum kit.

Keyboards and orchestral instruments, hard cases and speakers, fresh reeds and guitar picks, sticks and thrones, hi-hats, amplifiers, mics, stands, cables, and all mysterious manner of emerging electronic devices charging my curiosity with a palliable overload of awe.

Everything is set perfectly positioned and articulated, beckoning in long strands of vanishing points like time machines capable of immediate transport to any present or future coordinate in the cosmic clock of sonic creativity.

I want to play them all.
I want to travel lost to wherever they wish to take me.
Set the controls for the heart of all that remains yet possible.

Thus this morning, in my bed, I am keenly aware of a recollective excitement. There is a clipped rhythm to my breathing and a palpable itch aches in the fingers of my expression.

An idea comes to me like a returning migratory monarch: This is a place of possibility.
A place where, for me, possibility exceeds probability.
But just barely.

I consider for some moments and ponder.
Exhilaration thrives mainly at the threshold of potential and what is bravely possible.
I find comfort in this somehow.
I think of other places that make me twitter and twang.

Stationery stores—All that trembling blank paper, sheeted elegance and unembellished coarsity, fine surfaces slipped gracefully amid the rough-hewn. I adore the look and feel of hand-bound journals, empty unlined notebooks, and unstained parchment flecked with clumps of textured blemish causing a dipped quill to consider before proceeding. Which brings me to writing instruments. I marvel at the brazen balance of a precisely arpeggiated pen whose ink sings operatic from behind the throaty aria of a unique and napely nib. Exquisite envelopes, caressable cardstock, the blanker the better.

Art supply houses—Their varietal pre-stretched and rolled-up canvases; ranging expanses of brushes arranged in cross-patterns not unlike zebra on the black grasses of a dusky savannah; pastel sticks and paint tubes, layout-board and palette knives; lettering appliqués and graphite pencils, easels and palettes; watercolor and aquarelle pads of every imaginable sketch and size, and a thousand alien things of artcraft I cannot guess as to the secrets of their utility.

Fabric stores, foundries, glass and leather emporiums, carpentry shops, bakeries, research laboratories, architectural firms, plant and baby nurseries, schoolrooms, shipyards and democracies all have their relevant and peculiar potentials for possibility.

Machine shops and hardware stores hold a similar fascination for other minds. Tools that in the craftsman’s hands deploy their myriad uses in the building of engines or rockets, for example, make for a far different music to an ear quite dissimilar to my own.

I’ve no interest whatsoever in constructing seamless plots of cabinetry or cobbling tongue-in-grooved wainscoting; hanging drywall for a dandy rec room or building a bird house to kindly accommodate the migratory.

I’ve never once wished to build anything other than the propulsionless spacecraft Frank Junker and I designed at our desks in the fourth grade. It was a brilliant machine that could never achieve lift-off in anything under an inch let alone orbit. Its pencil-rendered blueprint caused the two of us to be called into the principal’s office not for reprimand, but for praise and commendation.

It didn’t work.

In spite of that failed laudatory goad to consider engineering as a viable course of creative vocation, I became a poet and writer, artist and musician, actor and teacher. No matter how meager-by-comparison they may be, the worlds I build and visit occur on paper and flourish in soundwaves by fingered or respirated instrumentation that I manipulate toward some meaningful conclusion. Often they continue on via optic nerves and auditory canals into the individual and collective imaginations of those who read, see, or listen to these humble constructs.

As an instructor, I continue to actively ply and share the sum total of my suspect knowledge and considerable experience with my eager students in an effort to guide and inspire, develop and
foster, cherish and commend.

But as I am quite happy to create in my own chosen arenas, I am equally glad that there are those who engage in their own significant ventures because each, too, is an undeniable expression of art. Without them I would have to ride a three-legged pony or walk wherever I needed to go. And shiver the thought timbers of having to drink curdled room temperature kefir.

Without their legion efforts, I’d most likely be living in a lumpy, vole-infested field trying to stay out of the rain in a lean-to fashioned of lashed branches woven through with tied reeds and fronds, sniffing squirrel holes for food, and talking on a coconut shell cellphone not unlike those celebrated exiles had to do on Gilligan’s Island.

I suppose it can be reluctantly said that even a nuclear weapon is an artform, albeit a potent one, capable of destroying every single other artform and artformee on the planet. Now there’s a happy thought.

Like the places listed above, much the same can be said of bookstores, libraries, and art galleries. However, those places tend to encompass and represent more the outcome of possibility. Certainly inspiration seeds mightily within their archives and showings, but they remain for me more venues of creative result rather than commencement.

And nevertheless supremely necessary, I might add.

Places of possibility.
That was why I woke up earlier than necessary today.

What places do you find that embody the extraordinary potential of the possible?

Joseph Gallo
October 21, 2008

wise words

2008-10-21T12:20:00.000-04:00

From Ursula K. Le Guin:

An interviewer once asked her advice for writers, and she replied:

I am going to be rather hard-nosed and say that if you have to find devices to coax yourself to stay focused on writing, perhaps you should not be writing what you're writing. And if this lack of motivation is a constant problem, perhaps writing is not your forte. I mean, what is the problem? If writing bores you, that is pretty fatal. If that is not the case, but you find that it is hard going and it just doesn't flow, well, what did you expect? It is work; art is work.

a real treat for word lovers

2008-10-04T17:12:00.001-04:00

by Billie Hinton

Roy Blount has a new book coming out called Alphabet Juice: The Energies, Gists, and Spirits of Letters, Words, and Combinations Thereof; Their Roots, Bones, Innards, Piths, Pips, and Secret Parts, Tinctures, Tonics, and Essences; With Examples of Their Usage Foul and Savory.

In it, Blount writes:

To me, letters have always been a robust medium of sublimation. … We're in the midst of a bunch of letters, and if you're like me, you feel like a pig in mud. What a great word mud is. And muddle, and muffle, and mumble. … You know the expression "Mum's the word." The word mum is a representation of lips pressed together. … The great majority of languages start the word for "mother" with an m sound. The word mammal comes from the mammary gland. Which comes from baby talk: mama. To sound like a grownup, we refine mama into mother; the Romans made it mater, from which: matter. And matrix. Our word for the kind of animal we are, and our word for the stuff that everything is made of, and our word for a big cult movie all derive from baby talk.

What are we saying when we say mmmm? We are saying yummy. In the pronunciation of which we move our lips the way nursing babies move theirs. The fact that we can spell something that fundamental, and connect it however tenuously to mellifluous and manna and milk and me (see M), strikes me as marvelous.

Life Experience Enhances Writing

2008-09-25T08:54:00.002-04:00

By Devon Ellington

I started writing and publishing as a child. In addition to being a lifelong writer, I’ve also worked my entire adult life in the theatre, with forays into film and television. I read my first Shakespeare at age 8; I saw my first Broadway show at age 12. I’ve had dual careers most of my life.

The downside is spending weeks living in a state of perpetual exhaustion, because, like the life of all freelancers, it’s feast or famine. That’s manageable in a single career, but when you have a foot planted firmly in each career, when you’re feasting, you’re sometimes too tired to taste the bounty.

The positive side is how much working in theatre, television, and film has enhanced my writing, both in a practical sense and an artistic one.

How Theatre Helped My Craft

My writing covers a wide range of both fiction and non-fiction. I publish under a half a dozen names. I write plays. I wrote plays in high school, mostly comic mysteries. I moved away from writing in college, because I was studying film production and working my way through film school by working in the theatre. Once I landed steady off-Broadway work, spending a great deal of time with actors, one of the biggest complaints I had from them was the scarcity of good monologues for women.

So I started writing some. I’d write for actress friends who had auditions. 90% of the time, if they used one of my monologues, they’d get the job. Part of it was because the monologue was written for that particular actor’s strengths, personality, and cadence. Part of it was because the monologue was different. I’ve worked in casting. In auditions, you tend to see the same half a dozen monologues fifty to sixty times in a three-day span of auditions. If an actor brings in something different, you immediately perk up because you’re so darned relieved not to hear the same old thing again.

From monologues, it was a natural progression to dialogue and then complete plays. My plays have been produced in New York, London, Edinburgh, and Australia. Cloverleaf Productions, here in New York, is producing my comic noir mystery Till Death Do They Part in January of 2009. One of the reasons I can write plays that are produced is that I understand the structure.

A writer who doesn’t frequent the theatre and has dreams of being a playwright is at a disadvantage. You can read hundreds of books, but unless you’ve actually experienced what it’s like to be in a production, it’s going to take you much longer to get the hang of it.

Because I’ve spent so much time working backstage and in production, I know how to write to production specs. That doesn’t mean “writing on spec” the way most writers think of it. That means knowing the budget and technical limitations of the company for which you write. In other words, instead of writing A Play and assuming I’ll find an agent who will land it with a Broadway Impresario (who are few and far between these days), I work in two ways: I write from character, with relatively small casts and limited technical requirements and I look at specific theatres and write to their needs.

Till Death Do They Part is a prime example. The theatre company ran an ad looking for new plays. I responded with my credentials and samples. The producer liked them. We talked about the cast size, the production needs, the location (their work is site-specific), the style of play their company does (comic noir mystery). I came up with three ideas and pitched them to the producer. The producer liked all three. I rapidly wrote two of the plays. She liked the first, but suggested a few changes, mostly having to do with style rather than plot or character, and technical needs. I started rewrites on the first and sent her the second. She loved the second, suggested a few tweaks, and we went to contract. I had left the time period a little open, anywhere from the 1930s – present day, although stylistically it was more 30s/40s. As her creative team worked on the play, they settled on more specifics and we tweaked the script to reflect that. I take what I learned of their needs from this play and that helps the rewrites of the first play, in which she is still interested, and it will make writing the third play even easier.

In addition to production specs, the years I’ve spent backstage in theatre listening to shows night after night has helped me with dialogue and character. Dialogue is one of my strengths (I teach workshops on it several times a year). Sometimes, first drafts of my novels or short stories start in script form and I adapt them. By spending so much time listening, watching, and reading plays, I learned how to move the story along through dialogue, and through characters speaking as they perform actions.

I often get frustrated reading a book, especially something that’s supposed to be suspense or action-oriented, when everything comes to a grinding halt every time the characters speak to each other. Most people are capable of talking as they are performing actions – walking, going grocery shopping, cooking, etc. Of course, plenty aren’t; hence all the car accidents because people are on their cell phones. But, in fiction, you can make your characters more capable of multi-tasking than they are in real life. And, whether people can do it competently or not, people tend to do more than one thing at a time.

On top of that, every individual has a unique cadence, a unique speech rhythm. Actors create speech rhythms for their characters, overlaying the character rhythm over the actor’s natural cadence. One of my favorite things in rehearsal is to make tweaks to align the two rhythms, so it sounds like the actor makes up the words in the moment. That is the perfect collaboration between actor and playwright. It’s not just the playwright handing a script over and the actor bringing it to life; it’s the small details that evolve out of working together that take the script beyond what either could do separately.

Backstage as Setting

Until I prepared a stack of backlogged manuscripts for publication over the past few months, I did not realize how often I use backstage in theatre or film as a setting for my work.

Quite a few books are set backstage in the mystery and chick lit genre. Very few of those authors have ever set foot backstage and it shows. Or they might have spent a few days backstage at the local community theatre and think they can write about Broadway. The stakes and atmosphere are entirely different between off-Broadway and Broadway, between regional theatre and Broadway, and certainly between community theatre and Broadway. A writer who thinks spending three days wandering around a community theatre qualifies them to write about Broadway is delusional. The technical specifics about the way a production is run, the backstage slang, the camaraderie and shifting alliances, the personnel structure backstage are all vital to making it believable. They might have spent a single day wandering around before a performance or at intermission; maybe they even interviewed an actor or two. But they don’t have a clue as to how the actual production runs, and they always have the stock characters of the bitchy leading lady, the ingénue, the drunk or vain leading man, the snippy gay chorus boy, etc., etc. Do these stock characters exist? Yes, but when you’re working eight shows a week on a long run, sometimes years, cooped up together in a small space on nights, weekends, and holidays, there’s not much room for such indulgences. The best shows onstage are usually pretty laid back offstage.

“But that doesn’t make good drama!”

Well, actually it does, if you add a catalyst to make something happen during THAT PARTICULAR performance that changes everything. People’s moods are cyclical, and so are those backstage. There will be days or even weeks when the entire production is in a bad mood; if it’s going to survive, the production has to get over it, or has to get rid of troublemakers. One vitriolic person can poison a production.

Both film and television work very differently behind-the-scenes than the theatre. They are much more hierarchal, much more about power struggles, and a bunch of useless middle management executives trying to justify their jobs by meddling in areas in which they have no knowledge and can’t be bothered to learn. Often these people are cut from fiction (they should be cut in life, too, but that’s an entirely different argument) and aren’t missed. But, again, there’s a language unique to behind-the-scenes, and a way productions are run. It’s vital to get the details right if you want the piece to be believable. Each production has its own unique character, its own energy as an entity, but there are also certain ways the work gets done to stay within budget and on schedule. It’s the writer’s job to get it right.

HEX BREAKER was a fun because I got to both assimilate and make fun of some of my experiences working behind the scenes. Have I ever encountered zombies on a film set? No, although after a series of 16-hour days, I’ve sometimes felt like one. Have I gotten annoyed at crew members sniping at each other? Of course. When people are tired and cooped up, they can get bitchy. Do things go wrong and you have to think on your feet? Yes. Would a prop guy demand a stick used by the cop to pick up the dead snake be returned for continuity? Absolutely.

Do I know actors with the attributes of Nick, Billy, Cady, and Ian? Sure I do. Are those characters specific actors? No. They were inspired by specific people, but, as the story grew, they grew away from those inspirations into their own people. Do I know conniving directors like Vince? Too many, but he’s not based on any one specific person. Zig and Randy are based on two of my favorite wardrobe people, people with whom I’ve worked regularly – I even used their cadence in the dialogue – and yet, they are also their own people. The working relationships among the crew, between the crew and the actors, and the way wardrobe is set and struck in the trailers is all based on actual experience. It’s those specific details of the way things work that make the setting believable, and allow me to take the readers on the leap of faith that one of the crew members turns into a zombie – an actual one, and not just from lack of sleep!

My life became my research, and it gave me a firm foundation to then take the leap into imagination.

Whatever your life experience, it can enhance your writing. Does it mean you should only write what you know? Of course not. Write what interests you. But at least have the respect for the people in the line of your interest to do thorough and careful research. Learn the details of daily interaction and that will make the setting and background of your story live and breathe as much as your characters and your plot.

Bio:
Devon Ellington publishes under a half a dozen names in both fiction and non-fiction. HEX BREAKER, the first Jain Lazarus adventure, was released by Firedrakes Weyr in 2008. Visit the HEX BREAKER site at: http://hexbreaker.devonellingtonwork.com, and her blog Ink in My Coffee: http://devonellington.wordpress.com for more information.

Q & A With Author Roberta Isleib

2008-09-12T06:00:00.000-04:00

Roberta Isleib's newest novel, Asking For Murder, is available NOW. After reading and reviewing it earlier this week, I posed some questions to Roberta, who graciously agreed to stop by and visit with us today.

My questions and Roberta's answers follow. But it's not too late - if you have questions, simply use the comment feature!

Billie: Roberta, I'm curious - did you do any trays yourself in your
research for the book?

Roberta: I've never done a tray, but now I'm impossibly curious! Once I
realized that my sandplay therapist would take a big role in this book, I
started to do more research. My psychologist character, Rebecca Butterman,
was covering for her friend's patients while this friend was in the
hospital. I found a wonderful therapist in Exeter, New Hampshire (Sally
Sugatt), who answered all my questions. She described what her office looked
like, how she launched her patients into sandplay, what exactly they might
say and do in the sessions, and then what it all meant. And months later,
when the plot evolved, I called back with more questions. Things like:
"Suppose Rebecca finds a tray filled with figurines in her friend's home. I
want the tray to appear to contain a threat. What shall I put in it?"

Sally would say things like: "If the tray is something the therapist
constructed at home, she's not censoring her choices." or "Threats can be
present in a sand tray on both a conscious and an unconscious level." And I
would type those pithy comments right into my pages as though they'd come
from the sandplay expert Rebecca consulted.

Only after I'd finished the book, did I visit Sally's office. Wow! Such a
fascinating experience. I'd love to take a course in this medium some day.
And make a tray or two myself.

Billie: As a therapist with intentions to publish, I'm interested in knowing
if your clients know about your novels? How separate (or not) do you keep
your two careers?

Roberta: I'm no longer in practice so the question of keeping careers
separate isn't so relevant. I don't use material from my former
patients--that would be unethical. Now if someone else tells me about a
problem, that's a different story! LOL

Billie: Is this an ongoing series?

Roberta: this is the third book featuring Rebecca Butterman. DEADLY ADVICE
came out last year, and PREACHING TO THE CORPSE this past December. In
Deadly Advice, Rebecca returns home to find her neighbor an apparent
suicide. Of course, she's wracked with guilt, feeling that as a psychologist
and advice columnist, she should have been able to help the young woman. But
the girl's mother suspects foul play, and soon persuades Rebecca to
investigate.

Preaching to the Corpse picks up at the holidays a couple of months after
Deadly Advice. Dr. Butterman gets a call in the middle of night from the
minister at her church. He's being questioned by the police after going to a
parishioner's home and finding her dead. The murdered woman was the leader
of a search committee charged with finding a new assistant pastor after the
previous assistant left in a rush. Rebecca learns that the committee was
divided and has to wonder if someone tried to eliminate the competition.

So far, there isn't a contract to continue the series, though I definitely
have ideas for others. A psychologist is a natural detective, because of her
curiosity and the people around her wanting her help. And I've left plenty
of loose threads that could be followed.

Billie: Tell us, if you don't mind, a little about Sisters in Crime and what
it offers to aspiring authors.

Roberta: Sisters in Crime was founded in 1986 by a small group of writers
including Sara Paretsky and Nancy Pickard, and has grown to an international
organization with over 3400 members. SinC began by monitoring review space
in newspapers and pointing out potential biases to reviewers. The group
found that a book written by a man was seven times more likely to be
reviewed than a book by a woman, important because libraries and fans make
choices depending on reviews.

Over the past twenty years, SinC has continued to combat discrimination
against women in the mystery field, educate publishers and the general
public as to inequities in the treatment of female authors, raise the level
of awareness of their contributions to the field, and promote the
professional advancement of women who write mysteries.

The publishing world is changing and our current goal is to figure out how
to continue to support women crime writers even as publishing gets more
challenging. We will be thinking of ways to strengthen our chapters, help
our published authors get the most out of their books, and educate our
pre-published writers. It’s an amazing organization! I truly knew no one in
the publishing business or the mystery field when I started to write. The
New England chapter has come to be an enormous source of support and energy
for me and I’m honored to be part of the national leadership.

Billie: And thank you so much for visiting us here at mystic-lit!

Roberta: thank YOU for having me!

Roberta Isleib's Asking For Murder - A Review!

2008-09-07T13:56:00.009-04:00

Rebecca's good friend, a social worker who does sandplay therapy, is found beaten and left for dead. Rebecca searches for clues in her patients' sand trays to track a would-be killer.

She can only hope the clues are buried within easy reach.

When Roberta Isleib's newest book, Asking For Murder, arrived in my mailbox, I was already intrigued. I am, after all, a sandplay therapist, and a writer who utilizes sandplay in working with other writers.

And I enjoy a good mystery.

Within the first few pages I was not only caught up in the story but was very impressed that the author had done her research. Rebecca, the main character, also a psychotherapist, made the distinction between sandPLAY therapy and sandTRAY therapy. That's the kind of well-researched detail that I appreciate, and I was not disappointed.

Since this is a mystery, I won't reveal plot details. But I started reading at bedtime, read beyond the usual time I allot for before-bed reading, and the second thing I did upon waking (first was to put on my glasses) was to pick up the book and read straight through to the end, which took me totally by surprise.

What a treat to have sandplay woven so deftly into the plot of a mystery!

From Roberta Isleib's website, some bio info:

New Jersey born clinical psychologist Roberta Isleib took up writing golf mysteries to justify time spent on the links. Her first series, featuring a neurotic professional golfer and a sports psychologist, was nominated for both Agatha and Anthony awards.

Roberta's new series starring a Connecticut psychologist and advice columnist debuted in 2007 with Deadly Advice. She says the work of the detective in a mystery has quite a bit in common with long-term psychotherapy: Start with a problem, follow the threads looking for clues, and gradually fill in the big picture. So this career move turned out to be a natural progression! Roberta is passionate about portraying her psychologist character as a competent professional (with flaws of course!)

Roberta is the president of National Sisters in Crime and the past president of the New England chapter. She lives with her family in Connecticut.

And more, for our readers. Roberta has graciously agreed to blog here this Friday, responding to not only a few questions from me, but those any of you might have for her. Please use the comment feature to leave comments and questions for Roberta, and come back on Friday to read her response.

My questions for Roberta:

Roberta, I'm curious - did you do any trays yourself in your research for the book?

As a therapist with intentions to publish, I'm interested in knowing if your clients know about your novels? How separate (or not) do you keep your two careers?

Is this an ongoing series?

Tell us, if you don't mind, a little about Sisters in Crime and what it offers to aspiring authors.

And thank you so much for visiting us here at mystic-lit!

is there such a thing as writer's block?

2008-08-20T17:00:00.005-04:00

(I Dream of Rain, courtesy of Matthew Cromer)

There's an interesting discussion going on at a popular writers' forum about writer's block. It's becoming clear from the comments that it's an extremely personal issue, that many people have issues that sound similar to what we typically call writer's block, but call it something else, and that some people feel there is no such thing. That if you want to write, you write.

Like everyone else, I have my own feelings about this, and my own experience. I have lived through some stuck places with my writing. Times when I wasn't writing and didn't quite understand why. Other times I wasn't sure where to go with a piece and simply needed time to let it simmer. Right now I'm not writing daily and I know it's because of the time of year. Late August is always a stagnant time for me.

I also know a number of writers personally who have struggled mightily with this issue, and tried a number of things to overcome it.

So I'm very curious about this whole thing, and would like to ask the readers here:

Is there such a thing as writer's block?

What IS it?

Do you have a different name for it?

Have you experienced it?

How did you move out of it?

-billie

words flow

2008-08-11T22:46:00.003-04:00

It is too early to go to sleep (10:30) and there is a full moon and there is music coming from downstairs and flooding the trees outside my window. And tonight is onc of those clear, mystic, confident nights when the words flow. The Rachmaninoff Third was coming through from New Orleans as I was driving back from work. I sat in the car and listened and stared at a light and thought, "I will do it. I WILL do it," then this suddenly emerged as "I am doing it." I am there.

-Gail Godwin, from The Making of A Writer: Journals, 1961-1963

If you're working on a novel, or any creative project, these are magic words indeed. Do it. Be in the process of doing it. Actively. That's what will get you through to the end.

Happy August, everyone.

Coming in September:

Sept. 8th: I'll introduce Roberta Isleib's newest mystery, Asking For Murder

Sept. 12th: An interview with author and Sisters In Crime National President Roberta Isleib

And if you'd like to guest blog here, send your blog for consideration - via the link to your right.

billie

Why I Don't Live at the P.O.

2008-08-11T06:00:00.003-04:00

by Kim Church

Fifty-one years old, and for the first time I’m mailing a novel manuscript to an agent. I don’t even know how to assemble the manuscript box. The way that looks right can’t be — when you open the box the sides fall away and the pages spill out. So I go with the way that looks wrong but works.

Still, I wonder if there’s another way, a secret right way only a real writer would know.

(This is the sort of question you can’t ask a more experienced writer: "Is there something you’re not telling me?")

Months ago, anticipating this moment, I ordered a nice manuscript box from an online writers’ supply store, and some corrugated cardboard pads to keep the pages "smooth during shipment," but my supplies never came, and my emails to the online company were never answered.

So I’m using a cheap box from Staples, and bubble wrap to keep the pages smooth.

"Just as well," my brother tells me. "I’m sure Kurt Vonnegut never used a fancy box." My mailing label is simple and elegant. A friend designed this stationery and I’ve been using it for years. I like it so much I plan never to move or change my phone number.

In the address, underneath the agent’s name, I’ve included the names of the two writers who have recommended me. This is how the agent wants it done.

The package looks good. Sturdy, handsome. I wonder if the post office will make me use one of their special mailers. Just in case, I print a second label, since the address needs to read just so.

I’m using the Capitol Station downtown — it’s closest, and there’s always parking. Before taking my package inside, I kiss the address label for luck, a trick I picked up from a friend who’s had a lot of success lately. I’m wearing lipstick, so I have to fold my lips together tightly.

There are three clerks on duty, no waiting. I size them up and settle on the one in the middle, an older, gray-haired lady who looks kind and competent.

"I’d like to send this overnight," I tell her. "And I need to use the mailing label I’ve already printed. Can I?"

"Yes," she says, but hands me an address form to fill out anyway. For tracking, I assume.

She opens an overnight envelope and tries to slide my box in. It won’t fit. She tries to force the box, and tears the envelope.

"We need a bigger envelope," I say.

"We can make this work," she says. She takes out her scissors and cuts the envelope down the side, then wraps it around the box and fastens it with blue tape.

"I don’t want that tape sticking to my box," I tell her.

"Don’t worry," she says, "it’ll come right off." More tape.

"Why can’t we just use a bigger envelope?"

"This one’s fine." More tape. She’s using blue tape like rope, winding it around and around the box, not bothering to smooth it. It’s getting all bunched up. Imagine the agent’s disgust when this ugly, unopenable thing lands on her desk.

I tell the clerk, "She’ll never be able to get into it."

"Oh, she’ll get into it," the clerk says, as if she personally knows the agent and knows her to be the kind of person who zestfully rips into any package that comes her way, the uglier the better. Meanwhile my box is strapped up like a busted suitcase.

"You don’t understand," I say, my voice going high and quavery. "This is important. It needs to look nice."

More tape.

"It’s my first novel. I want it to be met with a kind eye."

"If you want to get it there overnight, this is how it’s going." She takes out the tracking label she’s had me fill out. She lays it on my box.

"Oh, no, not that," I say. "I told you, I need to use my own label. Mine has information this one doesn’t."

She sticks on the handwritten label anyway, with an air of I’m-just-a-civil-servant-following-procedure-ma’am. But we both know: she is punishing me. For every aspiration I’ve ever had. For thinking I could start a literary career at my age.

Give in, she’s saying. Give up. This is the U.S. Post Office.

I look around, trying not to cry. People are lined up behind me now, waiting, their faces dull and impassive. They look like sheep. People who just stopped in to do some simple thing, who wouldn’t presume to write a book and then tell a postal worker how to mail it.

Off to one side I notice a kiosk of mailing supplies. There are priority mail boxes, nice ones, big enough to hold my box. I grab one.

"If I use a priority box can I use my own label?" I ask the clerk.

"Yes," she says, "but it won’t get there overnight. Two to three days and there’s no guarantee."

"I don’t care. Just please take that wrapping off. I’m sorry for the trouble, but I’ve worked on this book for years, and I want it to look nice." I turn to the people in line. "Sorry," I tell them.

No one looks at me. No one is on my side.

To her credit, the clerk doesn’t argue, not even a grunt. She starts unwinding the miles of blue tape. She was right about one thing: it comes off easily.

When she’s finished, I take my box back, slide it into the priority mailer and attach my label. There. Beautiful.

"You want delivery confirmation?" the clerk says.

"Does it cost extra?"

The clerk almost smiles. She almost gives herself away. She’s hoping I’ll say no, no confirmation, save a few cents. Then the minute I leave, she can turn around and chuck the whole thing in the trash. The people in line will cheer.

"Never mind. Yes, I’d like confirmation. Please."

She fills out a little yellow sticker and places it — crooked — over the edge of my label, covering my return address. In her small way, obliterating me.

---

Kim Church has work appearing or forthcoming in Flash Fiction Forward (Norton), Short Story Omnibus (Great Books Foundation), Shenandoah, Mississippi Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, and other journals and anthologies. She has just completed her first novel.

if you're looking for some good info on writing

2008-07-27T19:33:00.004-04:00

Head over to Murderati and read Alexandra Sokoloff's post from yesterday and Toni McGee Causey's post today.

Both posts prompted me to sit down and take notes for the current edit.

Smart ladies and good writers who share what they know, and they each have two novels out with number three on the way. If you haven't read them yet, head to your nearest indie bookstore and give them a try!

writing the ripples

2008-07-14T06:00:00.008-04:00

Toni McGee Causey, in a recent post on Murderati, wrote:

Writing is capturing a ripple, from the point of impact.

I've been pondering this since the moment I read it, applying it to my novels, and savoring the image, and the ripple, it creates with each one.

Her statement captures what I believe is the essence of a good novel - where that point of impact, what's at stake, the piece of action that sets everything else in motion, starts the series of ripples that becomes the story, the rest of the book. It's a beautiful way to look at one's own work. Does my story have a point of impact? What is it? Am I, the writer, capturing all the ripples?

I'm especially attuned to this right now because of the way I'm editing the second novel ms. Making a subplot more prominent was very much like dropping a stone in the water of the novel and following the ripples out to the edges. This means that as I edit forward, I'm often then going back to the very first page, where I read through, following the new ring out to make sure it's clear and that indeed, I've accurately captured it.

A series of circles.

The writing becomes a turas, a journey, a pilgrimage, the Celtic practice of circular, spiraling prayer and meditation.

Writing my novel was walking in, circling, to the very center of the labyrinth. Editing it is the walk back out.

Later in the week I'll be making a pilgrimage to my favorite writing retreat, where my days will involve circling between:

room

kitchen

walking

visiting the stables

veranda

The very act of moving from one space to another, and the freedom to do it at will, with no other responsibilities, opens the creative gates wide. Following all those ripples.

*******

I have set aside Friday-Sunday July 25-27 and August 1-3 for individual Writing in the Sand sessions in my Raleigh office.

These sessions utilize Jungian-based sandplay to work through stuck places in your writing, deepen story and character, and jump-start new writing.

Sessions are generally 1.5 hours and the fee is $100.

If you choose to schedule and pre-pay for more than one session, a discount is applied as follows:

2 sessions for $175.

3 sessions for $225.

You may schedule the additional sessions back-to-back or on different days/weekends.

If interested, use the link on the sidebar to email.

Famous Writers in North Carolina

2008-07-07T06:00:00.003-04:00

text and photo by Mamie Potter

If you are from the Triangle area of North Carolina, you might read the title of this post, yawn, and move on to find a more interesting blog. For those of you from other parts of the country, let me explain this phenomenon. You see, we have so many famous authors in our region. In the grocery store, gym, concerts—they’re everywhere. I thump watermelons while chatting with Angela Davis-Gardner; her son was in my summer camp. I sell used books on the sidewalk with Margaret Maron and share photos of my messy closet with Peggy Payne. I have twice heard the intimate details of growing up in the mountains of North Carolina from Reynolds Price. Jan Karon lived across the street for years. Dan Gearino winks at me over my oyster dip at his readings. Kaye Gibbons and I exchange stories of having three daughters. See what I mean? We can’t get away from them.

It’s not only in the Triangle either. We have famous writers all over the state. I’ve composed a church bulletin so Allan Gurganus could “preach” and bellied up to the bar with our former Poet Laureate, Fred Chappell. I’ve seen Tom Wolfe without a white suit and used to chat regularly with Nicholas Sparks in the “Book Nook” before anyone knew his name. I sang along with Lee Smith, Clyde Edgerton, and Susan Ketchin to “Wayfaring Stranger” a time or two. I’ve slurped spaghetti at church with Doris Betts. You cannot even leave the state and get away from them. In New York I saw “Light in the Piazza” and ran into Elizabeth Spencer in the lobby!

Experience has taught me that our locals actually need us. Several years ago, Nancy Olson, owner of Quail Ridge Books, asked me to have dinner with a soon-to-be-published author. I met this unassuming gentleman and answered his questions about what audiences want to know at readings. Well, I said, they want to know where you do your writing and at what time of day. With a pen or computer or typewriter? Who are your favorite authors? What advice do you have for fledgling writers? Did you do a lot of research for your book and if so in libraries or on the Internet? For the most part, I told him, the questions are seldom challenging. You’ll do fine, I said, patting him on the arm. The writer? Charles Frazier.

So much familiarity leads us to take advantage of our writers. Randall Kenan probably darts around the corner every time he hears my voice. He’s come to recognize it because I’ve cornered him at cocktail parties to talk religion, and every time I lead a discussion of Susan Ketchin’s The Christhaunted Landscape I ask him to be the guest speaker. Margaret Maron has written quite a few local citizens into her novels for charities and will be asked many more times because she’s so prolific. With true southern gentility, these talented and generous souls always oblige.

When I travel to other parts of the country, I like to visit an independent bookstore or two. One of my first questions is, “Do you have any autographed books by local authors?” If the person doesn’t look at me like I’ve suddenly appeared from outer space, he or she assumes a bored expression and leads me over to the nature or cookbook sections. There I’ll find beautiful photography of the local landscape or inventive recipes using local food. Sometimes I’ll find a book or two by someone who settled in that area because of its climate or universities and has been claimed by the locals as one of their own. Very rarely, mainly on the West Coast, I’ll see a signed copy of a novel by a famous author from the area. I could pity their lack of native literature, but why should I? For prominently displayed on their front tables are books by our writers, our North Carolina writers, and they get to share in the abundance that we take for granted. Lucky them, lucky us.

Mamie Potter has never been published and very much appreciates Mystic Lit for giving her this opportunity. She looks forward to saying the next time, “Her writing has appeared on the very prestigious “Mystic Lit.”

midsummer mondays on mystic-lit

2008-07-06T12:36:00.003-04:00

Thanks again to A.S. (Amy) King for waking us up in midsummer... and to the following writers for stepping up to the plate!

July 7th - Mamie Potter

July 14th and possibly 21st - Billie Hinton

later July - Joseph Gallo

August 4th - ??? - open for submissions

August 11th - Kim Church

and coming in September:

interview with Roberta Isleib, author and current President of National Sisters In Crime

a poet's july 4th tale

2008-07-05T09:21:00.004-04:00

Joseph Gallo, one of mystic-lit's original and most beloved bloggers, has posted an amazing tale of his July 4th and the wildfires in California on his blog Yarblehead.

Everything Joseph writes is offered with deep insight from the eye of a poet and illustrated with stunning photographs that offer yet another layer of experience to his stories.

I highly recommend clicking over to read his latest post. It speaks to what we as writers hold dear, but it also speaks to what we as humans face when we come up against forces of nature.

Last night, July 4th, my biggest concern (neighbors setting off fireworks in close proximity to my horses) was mostly alleviated by nature's force. A thunderstorm rolled in and dampened the fireworks. The horses stood in the safety of their barn, together, with plenty of hay and water and fans running to mute the booms and cracks. My fear of fires starting from stray firecracker sparks were rained out.

Reading Joseph's post today makes me realize what bigger issues we could be facing: transporting animals and humans to safety, losing a home and a farm, and finding our way out of such a loss.

Are You A Cheese?

2008-07-01T07:30:00.011-04:00

by A.S. King

Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese.
Billie Burke

Let me start by telling you: I am 38. I have no problem at all with being 38. I don’t think it’s too old or too young to write novels. Sometimes I hear writers talking about a relative age a person should be to start writing or publishing and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t think anyone knows what age anyone else should be to start anything. Sometimes I hear it implied that in writing, age equals substance. That makes me likewise uncomfortable.

I started writing novels at 24. While I was writing some of my first books, my practice books, I met a contemporary who told me, “You’d be a fool to attempt a novel before 40,” which I thought was a pretty silly thing to say to a woman who had already written two novels. It took me three more to start getting it right. Would I have got better quicker if I’d have started later? I don’t know. I don’t care. Why must we affix reasons to everything? All I know is that I’m 38.

Same as Harper Lee knew she was 33 when she wrote To Kill A Mockingbird. And Tolstoy probably knew he was 37 when War & Peace was first published. I bet Hemingway had a vague idea that he was 30 when A Farewell to Arms came out, and F. Scott Fitzgerald knew he was 29 when The Great Gatsby was released. (Updike? 28 when Rabbit Run was published. Amy Tan? 37 for The Joy Luck Club. John Irving was 36 when he published The World According to Garp – his fourth. And Salman Rushdie won the Booker with Midnight’s Children around 35.)

Don’t get me wrong. I know Twain published The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn when he was 49 and Marilynne Robinson, Gilead when she was 61. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, came out when she was 43. My favorite writer, Kurt Vonnegut Jr., published God Bless You Mr. Rosewater at 43, Player Piano at 30, A Man Without A Country at 83 and Breakfast of Champions at 51. I love them all.

From this, I hope you’ve gathered that I don’t think a writer has to be a certain age to write well. What I do think – and I think it quite vehemently – is that a writer has to work hard to write well. I think a writer has to be open-minded to write well. I think a writer has to put in the time – the hours of ass-in-chair – to write well. It’s something that’s unavoidable in this line of work. Like a musical instrument. Practice. Have Patience. Repeat. It’s not something you can learn by osmosis while you’re busy doing other things.

Recently I met an 18-year-old writer whose parents are not so keen on her chasing this particular dream. I explained the financial realities of the business and advised she find something she really likes to do – writing-related or not – something she could see herself doing forty hours a week to pay the bills without losing too much energy or time for her writing. I told her about the contemporary who told me I shouldn’t attempt a novel before 40 and explained that if I’d have taken that advice, I’d have, well, nothing. Because I should still be waiting around to attempt my first novel, right? And anyway – an 18-year-old is no more or less entitled to a publishing contract or a writing career than a 40-year-old or a 65-year-old. What matters is that – to be a writer, you have to write.

So okay – some people will say that anyone younger than them got lucky. Some will say youngsters don’t have enough life experience to write a good novel. I guess they can say what they want. This is such a hard business on writers, I just can’t see the point in highlighting our differences when we’re far more similar than we are dissimilar – no matter what genre or medium, no matter what stage or age. Some people will say, after they read this, that I just don’t understand. They’ll say, “Oh Amy – you’re too young to understand what it’s like to be 50 or 64 or 46 or 72.”

My answer? Can’t talk. Writing.

A.S. King’s work has appeared in FRiGG, Literary Mama, The Huffington Post, Washington Square, Word Riot, Amarillo Bay, Natural Bridge, Eclectica, Underground Voices and on Lit103.3. Her first young adult novel, The Dust of 100 Dogs, will be published by Flux in February 2009.

stay tuned!

2008-06-29T11:54:00.002-04:00

Sometimes good things, including blog posts, come in bunches. There are a couple of good posts coming, and another one I'm thinking of writing myself, so stay tuned for the next week or two and be sure to add your comments to the mix.

And if you were pondering sending one your very own self, send away!

call for blog posts

2008-06-23T15:13:00.005-04:00

I'm planning to run at least one new post in July and August.

If you'd like to offer a submission, read on:

Take some time to read previous posts and get a feel for what mystic-lit is about.

If you like what you read here, take the time to comment. The writers appreciate it. I appreciate it.

Do you have something to say about writing that you feel would fit well here? Craft, process, lifestyle, publishing?

If you're still reading and agreeing, and you'd like to submit a post, ask yourself one more question.

Will you be available to come by when your post runs and respond to comments?

If so, use the link on the sidebar and submit a post!

IMPORTANT: Posts must be formatted using Blogger html. If you don't have a Blogger account, it's easy and quick and free to set one up. I simply don't have time to re-format posts and images. Write it in Blogger draft, copy and paste to the email, and I will be very happy.

Once your post is submitted I'll let you know either way if I'd like to run it here.

Thanks - and enjoy the summer!

A Note From Billie

2008-06-01T23:15:00.003-04:00

Mystic-lit has been on a hiatus since April, due primarily to my own time constraints and decision to cut back on extra commitments.

However, A.S.(Amy) King just sent me a post that is so wonderful I simply had to put it up. I hope you'll scroll down, read this amazing, insightful post, and comment if you feel so moved.

Thanks, Amy, for awakening mystic-lit and giving us something to keep us going as we type toward the next novel, short story, poem, submission, query letter, etc.

The Writer's Middle Finger

2008-06-01T23:02:00.004-04:00

The Writer’s Middle Finger

(How to grow it, groom it, love it and stretch it)

by A.S. King

Last winter, I hit a bump. A big bump. I forgot why I write.

How Did I Get Here?

Sheer stubbornness. It’s how I got this far. (I bet it’s how you got this far, too.) How else does a person write for years in the land of continuous NO?

But then the YES came.

And you can’t give YES the middle finger.

Why Did I Want This So Much?

Then, something great happened.

(Books are like snowflakes. I want to make a blizzard.)

And How Do I Get it Back?

Four weeks later, I was done with the 60k first draft.

I May Still Fail

The trick is, no matter where you are in your journey, to remember to stretch it.

mystic-lit is on spring break

2008-04-06T18:37:00.009-04:00

Update on 6 May 2008:
Sadly, mystic-lit is closed. Feel free to peruse the archived posts, some of which have links you can follow to other interesting places on the web. You're always welcome to visit me at camera-obscura.
Thanks so much for visiting here. Enjoy the writing journey!

billie

Guerilla Marketing: Thinking Outside the Box to Promote Your Book

2008-04-03T08:00:00.007-04:00

by Mary Kennedy Eastham

We all want readers to to love our books as much as we do. But unless you're famous, which means you already have a built-in audience, the challenge is to get that book into as many hands (and hearts) as you can. Here's what's worked for me in the promotion of my debut book of poetry and prose, 'The Shadow of a Dog I Can't Forget', a Runner-Up for Best Poetry book and Honorable Mention winner in the Do-It-Yourself Guerilla Marketing Los Angeles Book Contest.

...I took an online course called 'Buzz Your Book' with uber promoter MJ Rose who self-published her first book 'Sheet Music' and now has five fiction books and two non-fiction books out. "I left advertising to write fiction," she says, "only to find that to stay alive as an author I had to get back into the ad business." Her course introduced me to ListServs and on-line promotional opportunities, got me thinking about ways to tag-team my book with writers doing similar stuff and helped me come up with a tagline for my book: new poems for readers who like their words wrapped in silk. Because of her, I sucked it up and joined MySpace and Facebook and put up a map of the world in my office where I post beautiful silver stars in the states and countries where my book now resides. I blogged and guest blogged and joined everything related to books and writing to include Shelfari, Technorati and lots of Yahoo Groups.

...I love great lines from movies. One of my favorites is: "The first rule of Fight Club is to never talk about Fight Club." The opposite is true when we're promoting our books. ALWAYS talk about your book. I'm never obnoxious, I just gently say:
"Hey, my first book is out. You can get it on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com or from me. And if you'd like to write a review on Amazon, that would be awesome." I was amazed at how many people came into my life because of this book. It wasn't always easy. People that you thought for sure would help you don't and people that you barely know emerge as shining stars in your life. It renews your faith in mankind to just ask for a little help and actually get it.

...I went the Book Club route rather than the bookstore book-signing route. Writing is so isolating. It's fun to get out and talk about your book and get feedback from people who have read it. My sweet friends in New York City, Massachusetts and Portland, Oregon threw book parties for me where I showed up, had great food and wine in their beautiful homes and talked to their Book Club members about my book. My goal is to do a Book Club reading once a week. So far, it's just been word of mouth, although I continue to ask more people if their Book Club would like having an author visit.

...I stood in a line of THOUSANDS in San Francisco hoping to get a copy of my book into the sweet hands of Sarah Jessica Parker as she launched her perfume Covet. She says she never leaves the house without a book. I gave myself a quick calligraphy lesson, bought a beautiful pen, beautiful ribbon and a beautiful decorated envelope that I slipped my book inside with a hand-written note to SJP. Little did I know she would be surrounded by body guards and that you had to spend ninety bucks to buy the perfume to get a personalized autograph. PLUS, I hated the smell of the perfume. I refused to be knocked down, however, so while I stood in the line knowing I would not get near her, I got to work the crowd and tell people about my book.

...I contacted best-selling author Greg Hurwitz on MySpace suggesting that we should do readings together calling ourselves the Crime Writer and the Poet. He graciously declined but promised to buy my book.

...I'm obsessed with design and architectural magazines and most things creative. Whenever I see an article about a creative person that I think might relate to my book, I send a personalized note and a bookmark.

...I'm planning to send a note to the book reviewer at PEOPLE magazine with this opening line: "New writer sells 10,000 books herself." Of course that isn't EXACTLY true but it will be if PEOPLE does a review of my book.

...I want to contact Oprah and say, "I'm not pretending something happened to me (aka James Frey), I'm not the daughter of a President (apparently Jenna Bush has some book out and it's not about PARTYING), I'm not a celebrity with a stalled career or who's just been released from rehab or a politician with an ax to grind. I'm not a faux chef or a trainer to the stars. What I am, Oprah, is a girl who is committed to great storytelling using my forever love of words. That's why I call myself a Word Actress letting my characters perform different roles on paper which is of course weaving my own needs, my own fantasies, my loves, my loss and my joy into the poems and stories I write. Make me a Literary Star, Oprah."

...At an awards ceremony yesterday in San Francisco where I've been a judge for the past eight years it was suggested that another way to increase sales of your book is to write a forward to someone else's book. It increased sales for the writer who suggested it.

I've come to believe we need to reinvent our book's future every day. Having a product, my blessed book, has created so many possibilities for me. Last week, my literary hero, the extraordinary poet Lyn Lifshin contacted me to say how much she loved a poem from my book. In a small, quiet moment I realized I'd made it. I'd succeeded at my dream.

When she isn't promoting her book, 'The Shadow of a Dog I Can't Forget,' Mary Kennedy Eastham is trying to finish 'The Possibilities of Love,' a collection of short stories, and 'Night Surfing,' her first novel. For more details about her life and work, check out her website.

Research: When and Where to Cut (part 3 of 3)

2008-03-31T08:00:00.001-04:00

by Devon Ellington

In the third draft, I go back and cut. The Red Machete is my best friend. I cut and cut and cut and cut. I feel the rhythm of the overall piece, the rhythms of each individual character. It’s orchestrating the story, balancing all the different elements, finessing the language. Will a different word give a stronger shade of meaning to this sentence? Then change it. Will a deeper description pull in the reader without slowing the story? Add it. Does this four paragraph description sound too much like a walking tour? Cut it to three sentences, or have the characters cover the terrain in dialogue or while discussing something else (called a “walk and talk” in film). If you want to get in a detail about a particular stone wall in a city, the character can pause and lean against it while talking to another character. You can give us the texture of the wall, its age, whether or not there’s graffiti on it. Or two characters can talk while walking down a cobblestone street and one will trip – and that’s how we’ll know they’re traveling over cobblestones.

After this process, I send it to the trusted readers (I LOATHE the term “beta reader”; it sounds like a videotape to me). And I’ll read it aloud or I’ll ask some actor friends to read it for me. Since I’ve spent so many years in the theatre, most of my work is heavily character and dialogue driven. When I hear it read, I can tell where to make additional cuts, and where I’ve left holes that need to be filled in either with more dialogue, or, more likely for a story meant to be read, more description.

If and when something “feels wrong”, I go back and check the research. Sometimes, as you write, you will remember with complete conviction, a particular piece of research. As you revise, you will become more and more convinced, in your gut, that it doesn’t work. Always trust your gut.

Go back and check the research. Sometimes, in the flushed passion of inspiration, we mis-remember. Our brain changes what we’ve learned to fit the heat of the moment. Later, when we cool down, we find the mistake.

Or, your research might be perfectly correct and still not work. You may need to tweak plot elements. Maybe this wasn’t the right choice. Maybe, although that’s “the way it is”, it doesn’t serve the story. So you have to go back and find something else within the internal logic of your story that serves it better.

Research covers geography, social customs, speech, music, and the way things work. Good research adds texture to a good story, drawing your reader even further into your world, and encouraging the reader to make return visits.

*******

Devon Ellington has published dozens of stories and hundreds of articles under a half a dozen names. She writes the column “The Literary Athlete” for The Scruffy Dog Review. Her plays are produced in New York, Los Angeles, London, Edinburgh, and Australia. To keep up with her projects, visit Ink in My Coffee.

Little Bit of Housekeeping

2008-03-30T16:33:00.007-04:00

by Billie Hinton

A few tidbits on this rainy Sunday afternoon:

-I have another Writing With Horses/Journaling With Horses workshop forming for late April. If you're interested in details, click on my name to your left and I'll be happy to send all the particulars via email.

-My blog camera-obscura is active and I welcome new visitors and commenters. Come on over and say hello!

-If you have any interest in synchronicity and talking/sharing about its presence in your life, come visit my blog Synchronicity Tea at the Scarab Cafe. It's been online for about a year and finally went live a few weeks ago. I'd love some conversation.

-If you are interested in guest blogging here, now's the time to get in touch. I have three guest blogs lined up for the next few weeks and if no one steps up, mystic-lit will be going on a hiatus. I'm focusing more on writing than "writing about writing" these days and don't have the time to fill in with posts here. If you have ideas for a guest blog, click on my name to your left and let me know.

-And finally, a big thank you to all the readers here and especially to the readers who comment. It makes blogging so much more fun when you get responses, and part of what this blog is all about is the interchange among writers, about writing. If you're a regular reader but haven't commented, jump in and say hello. Either way, I appreciate your coming by.

Layers

2008-03-27T08:00:00.002-04:00

by Fabienne Worth

When you ski, it’s a necessary way to dress. When you travel, it’s what you expect from life. And when you write, that’s what you try to conjure into being.

I thought about that last Saturday night when the moon caught my attention. Halogen bright, motorcycle fast, the phosphorescent globe wove its way at full speed in and out of a tweedy pattern of clouds. It shifted from second to second from full bright exposure, to various modes of backlighting, dissimulation, and disappearance.

I am sad I didn’t think of taking a photograph. I wonder if anybody out there has.

Another reason I thought about layers is because I just returned from a trip. A skiing trip to spend a week with my 2 sons, one of whom lives in Taiwan. Before I left I wondered how the trip would go. Would my sons get along? Would we still feel like a family? Would there still be snow?

To all these questions I am glad to report the answer was yes, but my idea of “the perfect vacation” was nonetheless re-configured by my falling abruptly on an icy steep slope. Instead of skiing, I was now seeing doctors, getting X rayed, buying crutches and wondering why I still acted like a ten year old when I am on a ski slope.

Yet the accident made the trip more memorable, the vacation more like “real life,” and those three people scattered around the planet feel more like a tight-knit family.

In the plane home I read an article about the “carbon imprint” of flying. I forgot the figures, but I remember they can’t compare with the damage I inflict on the earth with my AC and my car on a yearlong basis. We were just above the Southern tip of Greenland, and I left the magazine to stare through the porthole at the tip of the plane’s wing, and at the white stripes of ice melting into the ocean. I did take a snapshot.

Now I am home and instead of my full fledged routine I bask in the glory of having filed my tax return. These two hours of desk work yesterday required three hours of lounging on a chaise lounge to iron out, but they were accomplished! I count my blessings. Just a cracked pelvic bone, no shattered hips or femurs, a brain that still works, a mood that improves, and a sunny day out there. Who knows? Soon I may be able to weed my driveway again. And somebody reading this may have real interesting stuff to say on the layering topic. It may be called palimpsest, metaphor, subtext, irony or who knows what. The floor, I mean the blog, is open.

Using Research in Your Work (part 2 of 3)

2008-03-24T08:00:00.002-04:00

by Devon Ellington

Now that you’ve spent those hours and days walking the geography, reading the books, rooting through the archives, what do you do with it all? How do you use it in your work?

I compare it to seasoning when I cook. I’m not going to dump an entire bottle of pepper into the soup. I’m going to sprinkle it in. You use your research the same way.

Just because YOU have all the information doesn’t mean the reader needs every detail. You need to pick and choose what to share with the reader in order to both further your story and enrapture the reader so he or she keeps turning the pages.

Details, especially sensory details, enhance writing and entice the reader into your world. Too many details can overwhelm the reader and bog down the story. So how do you find the balance?

Until you’ve got a long track record and lots of experience, it won’t happen the first time you write it. Metaphorically, you get to dump the whole bottle of pepper in the soup and then scoop some of it back out.

In my process, the first draft tends to be the skeleton. It’s character driven and I’m moving as fast as I can to vomit it all out on the page, because, for me, until it’s all out there, I have no idea what I have. That’s true even with a detailed outline.

I use the second draft to overwrite. I go back and fill in the sketchy scenes. I follow tangents. I explore every possibility as far as I can.

I think it’s important, in the second draft, not to worry that you’ve got too much. This is where you need too much. This is where you need to overwrite. Don’t worry about bogging down the piece. This is still not a draft you’ll send out. This is for you. Indulge all of your senses. If necessary, rewrite certain scenes from each individual sense and see what it gives you. The scene will suffer from sensory overload, but remember – you will cut in the next draft.

Check your geography. If it’s a real place, you want to get it right. I often do something I call “stretching geography”, where I create a fictional town and stuff it next to a real town in the area I’ve set my piece. If it’s a world you’ve built, check for consistency. Unless you’ve got a palace that teleports (which would be much easier on the staff), it can’t be on the east side of the capitol city in one chapter and the west side in another.

Check how things work, especially if it’s not something with which you’re familiar. If your character is a professional pilot, go back to the notes you took during your research. Relive the time you were in the cockpit. If you’ve put a “placeholder” in your first draft, make sure you fill it out in the second, or it will sound like you don’t know what you’re talking about and were lazy. On some level, it will alienate your readers, even if they’re not conscious of it.

Check time frames. Are the days and nights logical? I read a piece recently where scenes specifically happened on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, scenes happened that night, and then more scenes the following morning, where the characters still called it “Christmas Day”. This drove me nuts. It was the day AFTER Christmas Day, and the lapse in logic made me suspicious of several other things I might have otherwise let slide.

Check logic. How did they get from Point A to Point B? You can skip the actual travel if locations are clear in both scenes and movement between is implied. Have you started a tangent or sub-plot and left it hanging? Have you unintentionally left loose ends? Readers will notice.

If you deviate from the known, acknowledged characters of historical figures in your fiction, mention it and the reason in an author’s note. There are many readers well-versed in history. Let deviations from known facts be choices, not mistakes.

*******

Devon Ellington has published dozens of stories and hundreds of articles under a half a dozen names. She writes the column “The Literary Athlete” for The Scruffy Dog Review. Her plays are produced in New York, Los Angeles, London, Edinburgh, and Australia. To keep up with her projects, visit Ink in My Coffee.

Don't P*** Off the Bookseller

2008-03-20T08:00:00.002-04:00

By Lauren Baratz-Logsted

I enjoyed myself so much gassing on here the last time I guestblogged at Mystic-Lit that Billie was kind enough to ask me back. Then too, since she knows some of my history – that I was a buyer and seller for what was then the biggest independent bookstore in the northeast for 11 years – I guess she thought it would be interesting for me to talk about what authors, particularly first-time authors, can do to maximize their relationships with booksellers.

First, an illustrative story.

My manager used to tell of how when she first was hired at Klein’s, one day an author came in demanding to know why his book wasn’t out front. Not knowing how to handle it, she got the owner. The owner said to the author, “You know, you’re right. I think we should make a pyramid of all your books, a huge pyramid right in the middle of the store.” The author went away, thrilled. A few minutes later, my boss went up to the owner, a stack of the author’s books stretching from her hands to her chin. “Where do you want me to start the pyramid?” she asked. “What are you, crazy?” the owner countered. “Put those back.” And that was that.

There’s a moral in this story, and it goes like this:

DON’T P*** OFF THE BOOKSELLER!

Really, booksellers can be some of an author’s best friends. But if you start off on the wrong foot, it’ll be hard for you to recover.

Too many authors go into bookstores acting like they’re celebrities and that the booksellers should just do whatever they’re asked. Maybe in more remote locations, booksellers are thrilled to see a “real-live author.” But the store I worked at was in Westport, CT. You couldn’t swing a dead cat in my store without hitting an author or an actor. We were not easily impressed. And really, I don’t think any bookseller is impressed by a prima donna attitude.

I hear a lot of talk online about guerilla marketing. Some of the strategies suggested include taking copies of your book and covering other people’s books with them or moving a stack of your books to a more prominent position. “Hmm, I think my book should be on the front table! Ooh, or how about right in the window?” To all of this, I say: Please don’t do it. Booksellers will notice – some booksellers, especially chains, have involved charts that say exactly what goes where – and they will know it is you. They will not be amused, they will think you are obnoxious, and none of this behavior will make them want to give your books preferential treatment. Ever.

The one thing along those lines that I will agree is acceptable is if your book is against the wall or shelved in a particular section and only shows its spine, you can turn it into a face-out if there’s space.

Gee, it sounds like I’m mostly just throwing DON’T’S at you. Perhaps it’s time to get more positive.

So what can you do? You can introduce yourself politely. You can ask if you can sign stock and, if you are allowed to, you can ask if they have Signed By Author stickers and further ask – oh so politely – if they’d be willing to give the books a more prominent position now that they are signed. No matter what response you get, smile and say thank you. If you’ve been nice all along, you might get what you want. People like to help nice people.

Being a person, a real human being, as opposed to Pompous Author, helps too. So if you have local stores you frequent, in addition to letting them know what a big celebrity you are now, ask them about business, find out their names, ask what books they’ve read lately that they’re most enthusiastic about. Again, people are more inclined to help nice people than pests.

What else can you do?

Well, if you’re lucky enough to have a book-signing, be gracious no matter how large or paltry the turnout. If it’s the latter – and those happen to nearly every author – that’s the time you really need to let the bookseller know how grateful you are. You can always offer to sign all the stock they’ve brought in for the event. Again, if you’ve been gracious, they just might let you.

Really, there’s no harm in asking for things and people are often happy to help those who ask in the right way.

Be thankful. Some authors will list booksellers who have been kind in the Acknowledgments section of their books. Booksellers like this attention. Promo meister J.A. Konrath has acknowledged hundreds of booksellers in his books. I’ll bet they love him. I’ll bet that when he asks for something, if it’s at all possible for the person being asked to accommodate him, he gets it.

So, summing up:

Be a person, not a pest.

Oh, and also? No matter what any bookseller does or doesn’t do for you – if they do nothing at all – enjoy the moment. You’ve done what so many people dream of but never accomplish: You’ve written a book and it’s been published.

*******

Lauren Baratz-Logsted will have had 12 books published by the end of 2008 in all sorts of genres and she hopes you will buy some of them. You can read more about her life and work at laurenbaratzlogsted.com.

Research (Part 1: Why and Where To Do It)

2008-03-17T08:00:00.004-04:00

by Devon Ellington

Research often trips up writers, especially those fairly new to the life. First of all, when should one do research?

My answer: Almost always.

I can hear the newbies squeaking already. “But I write fiction! I make it up! I don’t need to do research!”

Buck up, bunny, yes you do.

Are you setting your story in a real place? You better learn the geography of place. You’ll lose the several million New York-based readers if your character walks out of a bar in Greenwich Village, turns a corner and is suddenly in Central Park – unless there’s teleportation involved. If you’re writing about the South, but use Yankee vernacular, you’ll lose the audience unless your narrator is a displaced Yankee. Part of successful storytelling is a foundation of logic: geographic, plot, and emotional, that is then layered with imagination.

Even if you’re writing fantasy, the world you build needs to have its own internal logic. The development process for both Earth Bride and another upcoming science fantasy novel is among the most detailed preparation I’ve ever done. I spent hours with volumes of a nature encyclopedia and reading physics texts. At every plot point, I ask myself, “Is this possible?” , “Within the context of the world, if I want X to happen, what are the laws of physics on this particular world that it needs to fall into?” You can create new ways for things to work on other worlds, but they must be consistent within the logic of the world you build. If something is not consistent, it needs to be addressed, either because it’s a plot point or a fluke. Carelessness doesn’t cut it.

Sometimes research is as simple as looking something up on a map or reviewing photographs. Sometimes, it’s a bit more complicated.

Where do you do research?

Again, much of this is determined by the nature of your project. The internet is a great place to start, but let me emphasize that it’s only a starting point. You’re not going to get what you need from Wikipedia.

I love libraries, historical societies, and archives. I am a big believer that primary sources will give you more than someone else’s interpretation of a primary source. Diaries, letters, and newspapers give you the voices of the time. For instance: I’m doing research for a project that will be set in Philadelphia during the American Revolution. I did some research online. Given my limited time in the city and the scope of what I needed, I decided to walk around a few locations, but my main focus would be on the archives of the Historical Society of Philadelphia. I researched addresses, times, fees, etc. I emailed the HSP with questions as to appointments, credentials, materials. Most archives will not allow you to bring in bags or work in pen. Mechanical pencils are a wonderful invention, and that trusty old tablet works just fine. Some archives have plug-in capacity for laptops, but always ask first.

In spite of the research, when I walked around the sites with my camera, they were all closed for renovation, painting, etc. Not one of them had the information on the websites. If I had called, I might or might not have gotten the information. I didn’t call because I didn’t want them to think they had to wander around with me. I’m in such an early stage of research that I don’t have the right questions to ask a guide yet. Next time, I’ll know better.

Meanwhile, the HSP was above and beyond what I hoped. Among the primary sources, I discovered and read the diary of man who, at the time of the Revolution, was a lawyer. He ran into Franklin on a regular basis. He served under George Washington. He talked about the difficulties of living in the city under British occupation. When he talks about Washington’s famous Delaware crossing, I got a chill. I knew how it came out, but he was writing in the moment, and, for him, anything could happen. I held this man’s life in my hands, watching it unfold before me. It was thrilling.

Another example: In my novel Tracking Medusa, I have several scenes set inside and outside of the main branch of the NY Public Library, and a major chase scene through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I visited both of those locations, armed with both notebook and camera. I took dozens of photos at the Library and close to a hundred at the Met (all with permission – if the signs say “no photos” you MUST respect that). I also walked every step of the chase sequence at the Met, making notes. I chatted with some of the guards and we brainstormed possibilities. When I sat down to write the scenes, I had the photos on a board in front of me, and the notes nearby. It added texture and credibility to the scenes.

And sometimes, you wind up doing research without knowing it. I paid a visit to the Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology in Philadelphia, thinking it would be interesting. Not only did I find information that was relevant to Tracking Medusa, but to the two upcoming books with those characters. Again, I took dozens of photographs (with permission) and took extensive notes.

How do you get access to archives?

Most of the time, you can just ask. I usually email ahead of time. I don’t necessarily go into detail about the project. I do say I’m a writer and I need to do some research on X,Y, Z. I read through the site FIRST, so I don’t ask questions that are already answered. I show up on time. I respect their guidelines, and don’t try to get away with anything. I’m friendly to everyone at the location. I do as much research ahead of time as possible. For instance, with the HSP, I was able to look at their catalogue online, so I came in with the call numbers of material I wanted. It saved a lot of time.

Take extensive notes. If you can make photocopies of some documents or photograph them, do so. But take more notes than you think you need, and source everything. Make sure you have the details of where you got your information. This isn’t about proving it to anyone, it’s about knowing to where to go back if you need to double-check information. Sometimes you approach material one way, it doesn’t work, and you want to try something else, but want to refresh your memory from the primary source.

Also keep track of the people who help you, who answer questions, track down materials, etc. Send a thank you note to the archive. Put them in the acknowledgments. These historians and archivists are the unsung heroes of writing.

If you have geographical questions, the tourist board or the chamber of commerce is a good resource. If it’s a how-to question, as in, how does something work, find someone who does it and has a passion for it and ask for an interview and demonstration. Or contact your local university to find an expert in the field.

People love to discuss their passions. Most of them are happy to spend a few hours sharing those passions with you. Do preliminary research and come in with questions. And really LISTEN to them. You might find that what you wanted for your story isn’t how it works. So, you have to either adjust your piece or figure out a logical way to make what you want to happen still happen. Don’t cut someone off because the explanation/demonstration doesn’t fit your preconceived ideas.

Research, for me, also opens new windows of inspiration. I may walk into the archives looking for information on one particular topic, but I’ll come out with ideas for a dozen or more stories. Far too many writers mistakenly believe research limits their creativity. In reality, it opens you to limitless possibilities.

*******

Devon Ellington has published dozens of stories and hundreds of articles under a half a dozen names. She writes the column “The Literary Athlete” for The Scruffy Dog Review. Her plays are produced in New York, Los Angeles, London, Edinburgh, and Australia. To keep up with her projects, visit Ink in My Coffee.

With a Bow To Virginia Woolf

2008-03-12T09:00:00.005-04:00

by Billie Hinton

I have this long-time thing about Virginia Woolf. Starting at about age 19 I became obsessed with her books, her diaries, and then her life. I read and re-read her novels, in between reading biographies that connected the lines between members of the Bloomsbury group: Virginia Woolf, E. M. Forster, and Mary (Molly) MacCarthy, the biographer and essayist Lytton Strachey, the economist John Maynard Keynes, the painters Duncan Grant, Vanessa Bell, and Roger Fry, and the critics of literature, art, and politics, Strachey, Fry, Desmond MacCarthy, Clive Bell, and Leonard Woolf.

Once, in my early twenties, in a fit of despair over some young man, I dressed up as Virginia Woolf and went to the local drag bar. In the ladies' room, a different young man was putting on make-up in front of the mirror. He looked up and said "Oh my god, what a flawless gown! What's your name?" I answered. "Virginia Woolf."

I decided in the moment that if he got it, if he knew who she was and what it meant for me to masquerade as her, it would erase my despair completely.

"Oh, honey, that's the most beautiful name I ever heard! And so unusual!"

When I swept dramatically back out to the drag show, the drag queen pulled me on stage and serenaded me. Somehow, my attempt at descending into despair that evening didn't work out. How could it when no one made the connection?

Years later, Michael Cunningham wrote the sublime novel The Hours, which I read one page at a time it was so perfect.

I decided last week to officially set my first novel aside for awhile. The list of people who have read and praised that book knocks my socks off, still. It has been agented, submitted, praised, and rejected. It's time to give my focus and energy to the next one in line.

Sunday morning I was bemoaning the state of literary fiction. Bemoaning the books that take up coveted slots in the forthcoming catalogs and on debut fiction shelves.

I opened the daily Writer's Almanac email from Prairie Home Productions to find this literary note:

Literary and Historical Notes:

It was on this day in 1913 that Virginia Woolf delivered the manuscript for her first novel, The Voyage Out, to the Duckworth Publishing House. She had been working on it for almost seven years. She first mentioned it in a letter in 1907. She wrote, "I have wasted all my time trying to begin things and taking up different points of view, and dropping them, and grinding out the dullest stuff, which makes my blood run thick."

By 1912, she had written five drafts of the novel, including two different versions that she worked on simultaneously. Between December 1912 and March 1913, she rewrote the entire novel one more time, almost from scratch, typing 600 pages in two months.

The book was finally accepted, and then she had to work on correcting the proofs. She found the experience of re-reading her own work in print almost unbearable. She had a nervous breakdown, and spent two years recovering. The experience helped persuade her and her husband to start their own publishing house so she wouldn't have to go through the agony of submitting her work to others.

The Voyage Out was eventually published in 1915, but it didn't sell well. It took 15 years to sell 2,000 copies. Critics don't consider it a great work, but among the novel's cast of characters is a woman named Clarissa Dalloway, a character who would stick in Virginia Woolf's mind for more than a decade until she wrote an entire novel about that woman called Mrs. Dalloway (1927).

I commiserate. I insisted that my husband listen to me read out loud the blurb from a newly-published debut novel currently getting a lot of attention, followed by the excerpt on Virginia Woolf. I admit that I was egging on despair. I wanted someone to Get It. The injustice of it all. My husband replied, "There you go. Start your own publishing house."

I have to say this: if I did, it would be about bringing new voices into print. It would have nothing to do with profit.

But I'm not sure I have the energy to start a publishing house and WRITE NOVELS at the same time. So I'm sticking to the writing and making a bow to Virginia Woolf. I'm so glad she persisted as long as she did.

*******

Further down in the Literary Notes in Sunday's email, I read that it was also the birthday of Vita Sackville-West, another important person in the life of Virginia Woolf and a wonderful writer and gardener in her own right. She said, and this resonates powerfully with my life today, "I suppose the pleasure of country life lies really in the eternally renewed evidences of the determination to live."

May we all press forward in this business of writing, with pleasure and determination.

A Writer's Self-Consciousness and Self-Management

2008-03-10T07:00:00.003-04:00

by Peggy Payne

I’ve just made a tiny discovery as I sit here at my keyboard loosening my fingers to write my post for this blog.

Here it is: When I’m posting on my own blog, I’m unhesitating and plow in at top speed and say exactly what I’m in the mood to say. However, in writing for this shared space, I feel as if I’m being watched and assessed.

What’s important about this: it’s showing me again that I haven’t vanquished that inhibiting cast of mind.

Probably none of us ever defeat it completely; though, after 36 years freelancing, four books, etc., I’ve made so much progress along these lines that I sometimes get deluded and think I’m rid of it.

This re-glimmering of it in my view today is a good reminder to be sure the channel is open between my fingers and my conscious mind and my roiling unconscious vat. This means not letting other folks lodge themselves in the pipe.

What I’ve learned about doing this comes down to a few gimmicks combined with a sort of equilibrium that has developed through all these years of writing for publication.

On gaining equilibrium. Some of us come to it faster than others, simply because of our temperaments. In some ways, I’m on the very slow end of that spectrum. I’m bad about trying to please others. On the other hand, I was a lot quicker, for example, at getting to the point where rejection is no longer personal, it’s simply extremely inconvenient.

Because every artist, no matter how successful, goes through a lot of very difficult interface with the distribution world (You like that euphemism?) and a lot of wrestle with ourselves, we all have the opportunity to develop this balance.

And so, with every round of difficulty, we can pretty much trust that we’re building the useful protective sheath around the pipeline between the creative juices and the work: keeping the judges and critics and their voices out of the way. I’m convinced that viewing the experience in that way insures that it eventually leads to that result.

On in-the-moment gimmicks: First, two resources.
*1. A book that has really helped me a great deal, Unlock Your Creative Genius
*2. Immodestly, my “boldness blog” which is devoted to this subject

For now, here are a couple of sample techniques for moments when you’ve sat down to write and are having to wrestle with the voices of other people.

*1. Take note of your physical state, and what’s going on that might be triggering any anxiety. The simple noticing of tension helps in interrupting it. And knowing the physical cues and their triggers will teach you how to make changes.

I once caught myself in a moment of performance anxiety and noted that my chest muscles felt tight, breathing shallow. Knowing it didn’t change it. But by chance, I then talked with someone for a moment, and noticed that as I did so the tension vanished. I then plunged directly and successfully into work. And I’d learned what to do the next time.

*2. Write down on another sheet of paper or in a different document what seems to be the problem. This can help in two ways. You’re acknowledging the difficulty and physically putting it aside. And/or, the “problem” can take you to the very heart of what you’re writing.

Once I was badly stalled and up against a deadline on a travel story about North Carolina for The Washington Post. I wrote down on a scrap of paper what, after a moment’s thought, I felt the problem to be: “This is a travel story about home, and that is not an easy assignment.”

My statement of the problem became the lead of the story.

Another example, close at hand, this post: the writing is about the problem I was having as I sat down to write. The technique doesn’t always work that easily, of course; but it’s pretty good.

Any gimmicks that work well for you that you’re willing to share?

once upon a time

2008-03-06T07:00:00.003-05:00

(by shara)

and then, once upon a time, a long long time ago in a country that was different and not so different from this one, there was a little girl just like you, and you'll never guess what happened to her one day when she went walking in the woods on a spring morning when the birds were singing and one bird in particular was singing a beautiful liquid jazz and the girl strayed far off the path and had many wild and frightening adventures but this all turns out good in the end, it's okay, hush little baby, don't you cry it's summertime and mama will buy you all the mockingbirds and pretty little horses your heart desires, she would, if she could, but she can't.

that's not the way the story goes, says the little girl, and the mother smiles, or doesn't.

you never know what mother will be like in these stories, the sainted tree dropping dresses like blossoms, or the wicked one, glancing over her shoulder into mirrors all the time, hearing the footsteps of some grimmer lover in the sound of your blossoming feet, your new confidence and daring.

yes, the teacher must be surpassed, and the lady of the nests and pathways must destroy the one to make the other, and then the other again, made new, made whole, in its own appointed time.

now you're being cryptic, mother.

I'm being cyclical, dear. there's a distinct difference. it's all a matter of scale, and distance. when you're older you'll understand.

and then, the mona lisa smiling, and the hands folded just so inside the green shawl.

the story will be along shortly. some things just take a long time in the telling, and most of the telling happens on the inside. but then it's late at night when everyone's asleep, or early in the morning when the frogs stop and the birds start. right at that moment, and no other. in that particular moment, the line draws itself, the words rise as if of their own volition on the page, or the screen, or into the air. it's time to start the storytelling.

The Naked Novelist

2008-03-02T17:44:00.005-05:00

by Dawn Deanna Wilson

Don’t get too excited. It’s not THAT kind of blog entry.

Thanks again to Billie for letting me guest blog on Mystic-lit. It is truly a wonderful blog.

My second novel, Leaving the Comfort Café has just been released by The Wild Rose Press—a small, traditional, royalty-paying press that specializes in electronic and print formats. It’s actually a romance publisher, though I don’t consider my book the typical romance per se. I’ve really enjoyed working with the editor there, and if you have any romance stories of any length, I’d recommend submitting to them. Their submission guidelines are at TheWildRosePress.com. They also sponsor chats with different authors once a week. Feel free to go to their website and click around the podcasts, contests, and they even have a section called “In the Greenhouse” where I believe they have some writer’s tools and other information.

For books the length of mine (which is technically considered a novella at 62K words), they offer the book in print and electronic format. The Wild Rose Press contracts with Lulu.com POD for the novella length books, and I think they contract with another company for the full-length novels. For the record, I’m very pleased with the job that Lulu did. I wasn’t sure what to expect from a POD printer, but I have to admit that the paper and print are very crisp.

Following are my reflections on what it’s like to hold my novel and be…well, completely naked.

Of course, I don’t mean NAKED --- I just mean metaphorically naked (which I assume you’ve already figured out because we are, after all, writers.) After the author copy of my novel arrived and after euphoria settled and after I bandaged my bruises sustained from dancing around the living room, I realized…mom’s going to read this…my niece is going to read this…my boss is going to read this…my SUNDAY SCHOOL teacher is going to read this…

I’m not saying that we should write only to please everyone --trying to please everyone conjures images of the fable of the boy and his father who ended up carrying their donkey instead of riding him—but what I am saying is that when that whenever our printed matter goes out there, we are completely, and utterly, unprotected. To some extent, as writers, EVERYTHING is an extension of our psyche. Those who know me will laugh, knowing that inspiration for the “Snake Lady” on page 2 was born from an incident as a community reporter when a citizen showed me a snake he had killed…by bringing it into the newsroom and holding it under my nose.

For some reason, this nakedness didn’t seem to impact me when writing non-fiction. I was a newspaper reporter for 7 years and it always seemed like I was telling other people’s stories. But when a work of fiction---especially a novel or novella—springs joyously (and blessedly) onto the printed page, everyone assumes (correctly or not) that we have an intimate connection with the characters. Or that we are the characters. That it’s not really Austin I’m writing about, but actually that guy who dumped me my senior year of high school. It’s kind of like airing your dirty laundry in public---even if it is just imaginary laundry. At worst it leaves us feeling somewhat unprotected, but at the same time infinitely, infinitely, infinitely grateful.

So here is something I’m going to keep in mind:
Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.

There are thousands of incredible writers out there who, for whatever crazy reason, have not been published. If being completely honest with myself, I must admit that many of these unpublished writers are much more talented than I. Every victory—no matter how large or how small--is a blessing. We can’t let nakedness and vulnerability rob our joy. For right now I’m not going to question, but just enjoy the ride. I’m not going to worry over the fact that my nakedness may make a former professor or another writer wonder why I used a comma instead of a semicolon, or why some may question why this character is doing A instead of B.

As writers, we realize our books are, in many ways, like ourselves---and sometimes, we just have to let them go and find their own way in the world, and simply hope that others love them as much as we have.

It is what it is.

Thanks for letting me guest blog. I’ve just started a blog of my own called Novel Trails, where I follow the journey of trying to promote my novel (because unless you have a big publisher and big $$ behind you, many times promotion falls to the author.)

You can visit my website at www.dawnwilson.net and (insert shameless self-promotion here) you can order my book at www.thewildrosepress.com.

Assorted and Sundry

2008-02-28T09:00:00.006-05:00

by Billie Hinton

Writing workshops/update:

Registration for the March 1st Writing With Horses workshop is now closed.

The March 22nd Writing With Horses workshop has one opening left.

A new date, April 5th, has been added.

And an additional workshop, Journaling With Horses, is now on the calendar for April 12th.

Writing in the Sand workshops will be scheduled for late April and early May.

If you are interested in any of these workshops, please inquire via EMAIL.

*******

Predators and Editors' Dave Kuzminski, along with Miss Snark and a number of other folks, are being sued. If you have ever utilized the P&E website to get information about reputable agents and agencies, or read Miss Snark's witty, dead-on accurate replies to questions we all need answered when beginning the query process, here is your chance to give back. You can donate to the legal defense fund HERE.

*******

I used to say when I was twenty-something that I'd write my first novel while pregnant with my first child. The romantic image of being large with child and composing great literature simultaneously made perfect sense to me. Once I was actually pregnant, and many things had the power to make me physically ill, including an actual book on the shelf in my writing room, I decided to wait on writing that first novel. Five years later, in 1999, I finally began.

I've decided that having my real birthday this year is reason enough to leap forth. This is the year of the book.

What are your goals about getting your work into the world?

breaking news!

2008-02-26T15:12:00.001-05:00

I just saw on Publishers Marketplace that our recent guest blogger, Lauren Baratz-Logsted, just sold another book at auction!

Congratulations, Lauren! You're a powerhouse!

Billie

Eleventary

2008-02-25T08:00:00.000-05:00

by Joseph Gallo

Whenever I step into an elevator several things occur simultaneously. If occupied, I quickly assess the lay of the land. In an elevatored emergency, who can I count on as an ally? Who should I regard with suspicion or fear and how many people do I wish to place between them and me?

Are the people closest to the button panel the type of folk I want to cede the power of DOOR OPEN and DOOR CLOSE when my life may well be in the balance between Floor 12 and Floor 14? Who, if after say a night clogged in the shaft, might suddenly turn cannibal and commence dining on me and my co-elevatees?

And if any women are present, with which of them might I begin the arduous process of replenishing the Earth once the imagined emergency has mercifully passed and rational order has again been restored?

If the elevator is empty, I’ve often said aloud as I stepped in (and with greatly exaggerated aplomb to no one there): “So this is how it all ends then.”

Writing a new piece is not too unlike this.

The blank page dings open and I step in. What’s there is there and what isn’t, isn’t. It’s no good forging imaginary alliances with that which I cannot accurately assess. Neither does it make sense surrendering to invisible forces armed with terrible slingshots of vapor.

In other words, learning to work with what I have to work with on any given day can deliver me straightaway to the penthouse suite, or, after repeated and stagnated pressing, back out and down the corridor to the broken escalator around the corner.

If the former happens and all conspires to bring about something with a beginning, a middle, and an end, then I sign my name and call it a piece. (I use the word piece in lieu of poem or poemette or poetic pentalogue or prosaic plumfumery).

If the latter happens, it becomes a long hard trudge up as many steps as I care to pretend I’m in shape for. But I do it anyway. Why? Because on any given day I might be utterly wrong in my evaluation. I may not realize that I am already on the floor I need to be on, but I just haven’t left the elevator.

Writing is hard work.

Ask any writer who has spent eons staring black holes into the Great White Void of la page blanche or wasted unproductive hours broken down on the side of the road whittling the hardened past deadline spatter from his or her windshield.

Stranding the right words in the right order for the right effect across a blank page is the merry business of every tale dresser since the day’s hunt caused cave walls to speak and bear witness to the grand purpose of the human story.

It takes just a much time to write a bad piece as it does a good one. Why then write a bad one? If what you hear in your blood causes you to lose sleep and forgo sustenance, chances are you either have an inner ear infection or you have something to say.

And in saying it in a form of writing to be shared with the world, you then have something to hear and learn. It is the great gift of our shared stories.

In spite of dire circumstance, against insurmountable travail, in the face of overwhelming injustice, above unimaginable wonder and before unparalleled beauty, the world needs its story told.

For reasons not fully understood, our kind finds hope in such things. Think on that next time you press for the elevator and see what floor you take it to.

Joseph Gallo
February 18, 2008

a note for the week's end

2008-02-22T08:58:00.008-05:00

by Billie Hinton

I'm excited to say that this marks mystic-lit's 100th post! What a wealth of content we have here - the archive is a treasure chest full of good stuff. Thanks to all the contributors who have made it happen!

You may have noticed that the format here at mystic-lit has changed. The rigors of getting new content up daily and ensuring a regular and timely response to comments proved to be more difficult than I thought. So I've chosen to slow things down a bit and focus on posting new content when the blog author can be available to interact. It's more fun that way!

Eventually this new routine will find a rhythm but for now it's random. So check back regularly and don't forget to look at previous posts for ongoing conversation. There are often new comments filtering in beyond the first day.

I also invite you to explore mystic-lit contributors and commenters at their own sites. I always find interesting reading when I click on names and follow the links to other places.

You're welcome to visit me at camera-obscura, where the talk ranges from horses to life on the farm to writing, all with a side of zen.

Feel free to share your own links in the comment section.

Or, if you prefer, share what I'm calling the "hinge sentence" of your work in progress, or a work you love. The hinge sentence is the line, usually somewhere in the center of the piece, where everything turns around, or shifts into higher gear.

I've become obsessed with looking back to the middles of novels I've read to find that place. So far, every one I've looked at has this sentence. For me, this speaks to the idea that there is an organic sense of story structure - many writers tap into it without conscious thought.

Have a great weekend - back next week with a new post!

Depth of Vision

2008-02-21T09:00:00.005-05:00

by Jem Hopkins

Just before surgery, a cloth is draped over my face, covering it completely except for a flap to be opened over the eye being operated on. The cloth adheres to my forehead and cheek, but otherwise is light and comfortable.

Unseen lights overhead haze the cloth, arctic blue, the color of my kitchen before I painted it last summer. I can breathe. So far, so good.

A large, opaque green mega-contact is maneuvered into my anaesthetized eye. I think of David Bowie in “The Man Who Fell to Earth,” noting the awareness that this procedure hurts, though I feel no direct pain. Now half of my vision is green. Very green. Kelly green. But my eye is safe. I relax another degree.

The cloth flap is closed over the eye, causing a brief plunge into darkness, until the other eye refocuses on arctic blue.

The flap opens again, the surgeon’s head lamp illuminating the green so intensely that the mind surrenders the arctic blue and registers only green.

Many things are happening, but all I see is kelly green, arctic blue, or darkness, as the surgeon repeatedly opens and closes the flap.

This phenomenon is familiar. What does it remind me of?

I wait.

Yes, that's it - a microscope. As the table of a microscope is raised or lowered, different aspects of what is being examined can be seen.

Looking at sugar crystals under the scope, what at first appear to be semi-translucent black rocks (when lit from below) are pulled into focus, revealing the perfection of crystalline geometry. Then, as the upper lamp is switched on, the crystals light up, offering more subtle perfections and imperfections.

This phenomenon is, again, familiar. What does it remind me of?

Writing, of course. Specifically, the levels in our stories.

The first level holds the twists and turns of the surface story, be it sugar or spice.

But as we are pulled closer, ever closer, patterns emerge. There is a deeper order here.

Light comes in from above, and suddenly we can see all the way through.

The surgery ends, the green lens is lifted, the cloth pulled away.

Now only the healing remains.

It occurs to me that this is what I want from my work. That when all the false structures are pulled away, what remains, heals.

Juggling Genres

2008-02-18T06:00:00.003-05:00

by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

My first novel was published in July 2003. By the end of 2008, I will have seen 12 books published with my name on the spine: five contemporary comedies for adults, The Thin Pink Line, Crossing the Line, A Little Change of Face, How Nancy Drew Saved My Life, Baby Needs a New Pair of Choos; one literary Victorian suspense novel, Vertigo; one anthology I edited and contributed to, This Is Chick-Lit; one serious YA novel, Angel’s Choice; one more humorous YA novel, Secrets of My Suburban Life; one tween novel, Me, In Between; and two books for younger readers, the first two in a projected nine-book series called The Sisters Eight, co-written with my husband Greg Logsted and our daughter Jackie. Plus assorted short stories, essays, blogging and guestblogging.

I realize the above is an awful lot of me-me-me, but please try to bear with me-me-me, for there is method to my-my-my madness.

There’s a nugget of publishing wisdom, usually spoken by certain agents, that goes something like, “Never try to sell meat in your fish market.” This ties into all the noise you hear about “branding” these days that states that new authors should try to establish a brand for themselves, becoming known for doing one thing and doing it well, so that consumers will come to regard the author as a reliable source for a particular form of entertainment.

I think this is fine if an author is 100% certain she will always want to write one kind of book and that this will satisfy her. And it’s fine if the branding plan does work out that way and you become Danielle Steel or Stephen King. But what if it doesn’t turn out that way, you are first published as one kind of author, having chosen that route because you thought it would be easiest, but now want to try other things? You know, even John Grisham got tired of writing legal thrillers all the time.

Here, then, are my reasons for diversifying to the degree I do (please keep in mind, I’m not trying to write a prescription for the rest of the writing world, merely myself):

1) I’m a complex human being, as are you all. This means that there’s not just one side of me: yes, I’m funny, at least people tell me that; yes, I’m serious; yes, I’m interested in time periods I’ve never lived in; yes, I’m in touch with my inner teen and younger. But I’m no one of these things to the exclusion of all others.

2) I like to explore a variety of themes and it’s impossible for all the themes in the world to be addressed in one format. Some themes are only suitable to Victorian erotic suspense while if you try to address the same themes in a book for younger readers, well, you get yourself arrested.

3) Writing in a wide range of fields and always adding to the range keeps me fresh. I never feel like I’m writing the same book over and over again because I never am.

4) Writing in a wide range of fields and being published in them means I get to go on living my dream, which is to be a full-time working writer. You see, the sad truth is that most publishing contracts broken down book by book don’t amount to a fortune. Why do you think so many literary novelists work at universities? Yes, I’m sure that some of them love to teach, but not all. And the same is true of commercial novelists, working in other professions to support their writing habits. If you can write in more than one area, though, and if you can attract various publishers who are interested in those different areas, then you can actually make a living wage in this insane business.

So that’s me: insane, working like crazy, and loving every minute of it. As for not selling meat in my fish market, well, I like to think of myself more as a supermarket, hopefully an upscale one, where readers learn to come for the variety of experience. And my fans bear this out, many of them buying whatever I write, be it Victorian erotic suspense or books for younger people. To those faithful readers, Lauren Baratz-Logsted does represent a brand, only not quite in the way that the publishing gurus would have you think a brand should be regarded.

Lauren Baratz-Logsted has already name-dropped all 12 of her books above, so she doesn’t need to do that again here. If, however, you are interested in reading more about her life and work, you can visit her at www.laurenbaratzlogsted.com.

An Affair With Words

2008-02-17T06:00:00.004-05:00

by Sue Ivy

I’ve had a love affair with the written language since I saw my very first book. As a precocious child, my favorite place in the world was the library. To me, it was as sacred as a church, only more hallowed, for it contained endless volumes full of wonderful words. And stories! Oh the stories! There was action, adventure, romance, drama, comedy—whole worlds drawn in words that fed my imagination and inspired my soul. Then there was the bookmobile—a giant magic bus filled with books—delivered right to my door! What could be cooler than that?

While other kids my age collected comic books, trading cards, Matchbox cars, action figures, and dolls; or pursued various sports, I collected words: song lyrics, poems, beautiful inspiring quotes, and favorite passages. And I penned a few of my own.

A shy and sensitive student, I was turned-off by math, sports, and academia in general but found solace and creative inspiration in language and art (and woodshop). My writing received high praise and a couple of favorite teachers nurtured and encouraged my budding talent. After high school, there was no money and little desire to attend college right away, so instead I entered the work force full time and attended the school of life. College followed a few years later—and again I excelled in writing, both creative and technical.

The technical writing and other computer-based work wasn’t terribly artistic but paid the bills. I continued to collect favorite quotes and to write creatively now and then. With the advent of email I had begun to share my growing collection of quotes with family and friends scattered around the country. Most of the time the quotes I select are my own form of self-motivation or self-talk, but it’s remarkable how often I get replies from recipients who say the quote seemed as though it was meant specifically for them—just what they needed to hear that day. Each time I get a similar message, I find it strengthens my sense of interconnectedness, even with people miles away and years apart. And it reinforces my belief in the awesome power of the written word.

Fast approaching mid-life and bored silly with my job, I embarked on a quest to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I decided what I really wanted was to be a gypsy—to live full-time in an RV and travel the country. Now I just had to figure out a way to make a living to support a mobile lifestyle.

My close friend, Elaine, had embarked on a successful freelance writing career (www.klonicki.com) and with her encouragement, I started to think about doing the same. After all, with a laptop and internet connection, I could write from anywhere I happened to be. Perfect!

Having long been inspired by the words of others, I felt a little intimidated. Could I ever write as beautifully as those who’ve inspired me? Friends and family assured me I had talent, but could I make a living as a writer? Would anyone want to read what I write?

When I expressed my concerns to my friend, she reminded me to “compare fair.” Most of the people I admired had been writing for a very long time, many professionally and some with extensive literary education. Therefore, I wasn’t being fair to myself by comparing my ability with theirs at this fledgling stage in my new writing life.

She recently sent me a quote that further strengthened her point: “We are all born with wonderful gifts. We use these gifts to express ourselves, to amuse, to strengthen, and to communicate. We begin as children to explore and develop our talents, often unaware that we are unique, that not everyone can do what we're doing!”—Lynn Johnston

And so I’ve embarked on a new adventure. Sharing words, uniquely mine, and looking forward to hitting the road. With a new-found energy and confidence found through writing, I’ve also discovered talent for digital photography and artistic imaging. I’ve recently set up shop on CaféPress.com, www.cafepress.com/enchantedcorgi and I’m working on creating my own blog and website. The sky’s the limit!

Fun with religion

2008-02-16T08:48:00.004-05:00

by James Protzman

As I confront the reality that my book will indeed be published, I find myself focusing more and more on what my family will think. I'd always imagined that I was "above" worrying about such pedestrian matters, but it appears I am not.

What am I most worried about? The kinky sex scenes in the backseat of a car? Mutual masturbation in an Airstream trailer? The frenzied fucking in a sweet little doublewide? No. I'm worried about what they'll think of my commentary on religion.

It starts early in the book:

Later that night he polished the thick circle of silver to a gleaming glow, discovering enough strange engravings to qualify for latter-day sainthood. Like Moses on the mountain with his magical commandments, like old Joe Smith and his wondrous golden tablets, little Gary Gray took the symbols for a sign. The bracelet’s whispery voices made him Jesus overnight.

Then moves on to Unitarians:

When he eventually joined New Hope, Frank wouldn’t have predicted that his favorite part would be the Pagan Studies Circle, a quirky refuge for spirits seeking something more than mainstream mysticism. At New Hope, the UU Pagans happily coexist with the UU Christians, the UU Jews, the UU Agnostics, the UU Buddhists, and the UU Atheists. All of whom anchor New Hope just slightly to the left of tofu, according to Frank.

Then the militant Baptists:

The first thing visitors notice about the New Gate of Heaven Baptist Church is the steel. Thick engineered beams diving to the ground like spider legs covered with slick corrugated skin. In the belly of the beast, rows of cushioned pews lead to a stage covered with fluffy white carpet, the blue aisles cordoned off for the choir, the red ones for the multitudes. Before you get to those soft seats, though, you have to pass the greeters, a tight platoon of bull-necked men stuffed into black suits, with starched white shirts and American flag ties. The Gatekeepers. A few good men, dressed to shill for the Sunday morning crunch.

And then the fundamentalist Christians:

What it is that attracts Sally Susser to Preacher Joe Peters would be a puzzle to anyone seeing the odd couple standing side by side. But beyond the confines of the Halifax Grill, such sightings are rare. As the fundraising maven of Duke University, sweet Sally is always turned out with style and grace, and can ill afford to be seen on the arm of Preacher Peters. Yet somehow they manage to hang together, bound by shared obsessions with sex and brand new Jaguars.

It was the automotive angle that spawned their affair two years ago. Joe had walked into the Carolina Jaguar showroom and found Sally sitting in the silver XK8 he intended to buy. Five fucks later, the car was Sally’s, a leased symbol of love from the good Preacher Joe.

Though Sally would never tell Preacher Joe outright, his toothless gumming of her well-worn clitoris is the single treat that keeps her coming back for more from the raunchy reverend. And though Joe Peters would never tell Sally outright, the chance to savor the smooth flesh between her surgically crafted thighs brings a thrill he can’t resist.

One of these passages is really going to get me in trouble.

time

2008-02-15T07:14:00.003-05:00

(by shara)

it often takes me a long time to get moving. I joke with my husband, telling him I'm a tightly coiled spring, sitting back, observing. seeing patterns, waiting for right time, no sense uncoiling too soon or too late and who knows when the right time is? certainly not me. does anybody really know what time it is, ask the boys from chicago. the older I get the more the question makes sense to me and the answer seem to be both endless fun to discuss, and also of no importance at all, time being an artificial construct and all those lines on the calendar just a grid to hang a system in, personal, political, industrial.

animal time, now that's sensible.

child time. thirteen children on the dead end street today, riding bikes, playing basketball, whispering confidences, stirring up trouble, playing in the mud, asking for snacks. they know it's spring, the kids and the birds and the green things popping up. they don't care what the calendar says, they don't know calendars.

I know it's spring, I've been painting it on the wall in the shed for some time now, weeks, though it only occurred to me last night as I was watching what I thought were random and unconnected layers of brushstrokes transform themselves into bearded irises, though of course it's too early for them. but they're stirring, if you were careful enough you'd hear them. there are birds singing lately, over the bamboo in the backyard and in the ornamental cherry tree out front, birds singing songs I haven't heard since last year, so if they're not spring birds come round again they're fall and winter birds singing a new tune, and that's fine too. everyone wants a change right around the middle of february. and who am I to keep track of who sings what and when and why, at least not in any sort of imperial decreeing sort of sense - if a winter bird wants to sing a spring song I don't think it does anyone any harm. it's not as if the bird is confused as to who it is, if it senses the who of itself at all, who knows the mind of birds?

I don't, of course, though I do catch a bit of the song in translation now and then, and add my own faltering harmonies when moved to do so, as a sort of thank you. an acknowledgment of the experience. not a well done or a gee I wish I could sing that. just a friendly note wavering through the air, a wayfaring stranger's sort of song, a sharing of the road.