This weekend I took out the manuscript that's been neglected for months, mainly due to busy schedules. I had intended to do some writing for it, but here's what happened instead.
I read from page one. Laughed at jokes I'd forgotten about, cried at a certain scene, and found myself wanting to keep going, even as my eyes got heavy. Couldn't remember who wrote what most of the time-- the style was flawless and uninterrupted.
I tweaked a comma or a word change here and there, but nothing major (we've already done so much revision to what's already on the page). Didn't do any new writing until about chapter 16. Wrote a rough draft, 3-page backstory. Read up to about chapter 20 with at least 100 pages to go. And I want to read more.
The verdict? This book is gonna rock.
Seriously, I love this novel. I love its stories and its characters, and I've already written a post about wanting to live in its world. I love that it's a collaboration between my friend and me.
We both know we're at the point that any additional writing is really going to happen when we're both in the room together. That day is coming soon. (Yay!) Of course, I wish it was done now, all perfect and polished and published and on the shelves. We even know what we want the cover to look like. Patience, I have to tell myself. This is the manuscript we intend to query. This is worth waiting for.
At some point the conversation about self-publishing being so time-consuming (when do we have time to write what we intend to publish?) is likely going to resume on this blog. But for now, I'm savoring the moment. A good weekend of reading good writing.
Deep breath: Inhale. Exhale.
Nice.
Meanwhile, the FREE Ordinary World special preview ebook has gotten 130 hits, the blog interview has gotten over 75 viewings, and I've sold a half-dozen copies of Faking It, all since Thursday. (Not to mention the sales of the Kindle version since reducing the price to 99 cents.) Thank you to everyone who tweeted about it, posted something on Facebook, and downloaded a copy. Please post something about it on your blogs or elsewhere, if you can. I would be so grateful!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Lulu blog interview is up!
CLICK HERE to watch my interview with AJ McDonald about Ordinary World. You can download the excerpt right here on my blog (remember the spoiler alert!), and find out how to win a signed copy of FAKING IT via Twitter.
Thanks again to Carol, AJ, and everyone at Lulu. I think the interview is great (although why do I always look like I'm slouching in a chair?).
Enjoy!
Thanks again to Carol, AJ, and everyone at Lulu. I think the interview is great (although why do I always look like I'm slouching in a chair?).
Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
always put your characters somewhere they don't want to be
When we're not discussing Pop Tarts or trying to stump each other with lines from The West Wing, my twin brother and I talk writing. He's the one who always gives me the best advice, all of which he learned from other writers. For example, he told me to "always start as close to the middle of the story as possible". This came to him via Kurt Vonnegut. Like Stephen King, he admonishes me when I litter my manuscript with adverbs. And then there's the advice he gave me from Larry Gelbart: always put your characters somewhere they don't want to be.
Gelbart was likely thinking in terms of comedic effect when he dispensed this advice (and that's how I often use it), but I find it works well for any story that warrants conflict. And really, if there's no conflict, then what kind of story is it?
Think about it: On Northern Exposure, Joel Fleischman is stuck in Cicily, Alaska, away from his beloved New York. On M*A*S*H, Hawkeye is stuck in Korea. On Gilmore Girls, some of the best scenes are "Friday night dinner" at Lorelai's parents' house, a condition of the elder Gilmores paying for granddaughter Rory's tuition. And how can I not include Josh Lyman's disasterous press conference while CJ is forced to sit and watch it in her office, her mouth swollen after emergency dental surgery ("I had woot canow") on The West Wing.
In FAKING IT, there were a number of places Andi didn't want to be, whether it was in Devin's apartment stripped down to her underwear in broad daylight, or a freezing cold movie theatre, or a bad first date. More so, Andi began the novel not even wanting to be in her own skin, not wanting to be Andi. Hence, that someplace doesn't necessarily have to be physical in nature, but situational. Someplace could be a state of mind.
Characters need conflict. They need to have their back against the wall, be put in a position where either fight or flight is required. The funniest characters succumb to fits of temporary insanity, the wrong choice at the wrong moment with a series of consequences that fall like dominos.
Your characters will tell you where they want to go, and if you listen closely, you'll find out exactly where they don't want to be, which is exactly where they belong.
Gelbart was likely thinking in terms of comedic effect when he dispensed this advice (and that's how I often use it), but I find it works well for any story that warrants conflict. And really, if there's no conflict, then what kind of story is it?
Think about it: On Northern Exposure, Joel Fleischman is stuck in Cicily, Alaska, away from his beloved New York. On M*A*S*H, Hawkeye is stuck in Korea. On Gilmore Girls, some of the best scenes are "Friday night dinner" at Lorelai's parents' house, a condition of the elder Gilmores paying for granddaughter Rory's tuition. And how can I not include Josh Lyman's disasterous press conference while CJ is forced to sit and watch it in her office, her mouth swollen after emergency dental surgery ("I had woot canow") on The West Wing.
In FAKING IT, there were a number of places Andi didn't want to be, whether it was in Devin's apartment stripped down to her underwear in broad daylight, or a freezing cold movie theatre, or a bad first date. More so, Andi began the novel not even wanting to be in her own skin, not wanting to be Andi. Hence, that someplace doesn't necessarily have to be physical in nature, but situational. Someplace could be a state of mind.
Characters need conflict. They need to have their back against the wall, be put in a position where either fight or flight is required. The funniest characters succumb to fits of temporary insanity, the wrong choice at the wrong moment with a series of consequences that fall like dominos.
Your characters will tell you where they want to go, and if you listen closely, you'll find out exactly where they don't want to be, which is exactly where they belong.
Monday, August 31, 2009
the getaway
My writing partner in crime had a rough week, and in what was clearly one of those temporary-insanity-as-a-means-to-restoring-sanity moves, proclaimed that she no longer wanted to do the very thing she's devoted the last three years of her life to. On the verge of graduation, she proclaimed that she wanted to chuck it all. The thing that caused sleepless nights, panic attacks, mind-numbing hours of studying, and practice practice practice.
All while occasionally co-writing a novel when she found a spare minute, day, or week.
We've all had those moments. Hell, my mother HUNG A SIGN ON THE DOOR: Buy One, Get One Free, when my twin brother and I wore down her very last nerve. I've had teaching days when I swear I'm a fraud, and never want to set foot in a classroom ever again.
Writers occasionally want to throw their computers out the window (although, as my good friend Elspeth recently wrote, thank goodness for that Delete key). Doctors want to take up fly fishing. Heck, I'll bet the president is wishing he stayed home on that cold day in Illinois two years ago and played Guitar Hero instead.
So, as a sign of solidarity, I offered to run away from it all with my writing partner, my friend. Open the very cafe in which the bulk of our novel takes place, complete with cookies and reading nooks and regular customers to sit around and debate the really important stuff -- Culture Club vs. Duran Duran. Drake's Cakes vs. Little Debbie. Aaron Sorkin vs. David E. Kelley. And so on. Just say the word, I said, and I'm there. I'll even move back up north and live amongst all those Red Sox fans again.
And don't think for a minute that there wasn't some little part of me that wasn't kidding.
Of course, we came to our senses. This would be the only cafe that opened late and closed early -- I am so not a morning person. Besides, she's too damn good at what she does and she knows it. And there's all those aformentioned Red Sox fans...
We miss each other, and we miss working on our manuscript. Our momentarily proposed getaway was really testament to the world we've created through our collaboration. We're writing the book we want to read. We're creating a place in which we wouldn't mind living. We're listening to the voices of those we love dearly, and telling their truths.
This is just one of many reasons why I love writing. It's a magical camera that makes the world happen through my lens. And it all happens with words.
We can't wait to finish our manuscript and get it into the hands of readers. Perhaps it'll be shared by coffeeshop dwellers gathered around a table, discussing things over lattes and cookies, like trying to guess which one of us wrote which part, or who the protag should've ended up with, or who's going to play whom in the movie.
You know, the really important stuff.
All while occasionally co-writing a novel when she found a spare minute, day, or week.
We've all had those moments. Hell, my mother HUNG A SIGN ON THE DOOR: Buy One, Get One Free, when my twin brother and I wore down her very last nerve. I've had teaching days when I swear I'm a fraud, and never want to set foot in a classroom ever again.
Writers occasionally want to throw their computers out the window (although, as my good friend Elspeth recently wrote, thank goodness for that Delete key). Doctors want to take up fly fishing. Heck, I'll bet the president is wishing he stayed home on that cold day in Illinois two years ago and played Guitar Hero instead.
So, as a sign of solidarity, I offered to run away from it all with my writing partner, my friend. Open the very cafe in which the bulk of our novel takes place, complete with cookies and reading nooks and regular customers to sit around and debate the really important stuff -- Culture Club vs. Duran Duran. Drake's Cakes vs. Little Debbie. Aaron Sorkin vs. David E. Kelley. And so on. Just say the word, I said, and I'm there. I'll even move back up north and live amongst all those Red Sox fans again.
And don't think for a minute that there wasn't some little part of me that wasn't kidding.
Of course, we came to our senses. This would be the only cafe that opened late and closed early -- I am so not a morning person. Besides, she's too damn good at what she does and she knows it. And there's all those aformentioned Red Sox fans...
We miss each other, and we miss working on our manuscript. Our momentarily proposed getaway was really testament to the world we've created through our collaboration. We're writing the book we want to read. We're creating a place in which we wouldn't mind living. We're listening to the voices of those we love dearly, and telling their truths.
This is just one of many reasons why I love writing. It's a magical camera that makes the world happen through my lens. And it all happens with words.
We can't wait to finish our manuscript and get it into the hands of readers. Perhaps it'll be shared by coffeeshop dwellers gathered around a table, discussing things over lattes and cookies, like trying to guess which one of us wrote which part, or who the protag should've ended up with, or who's going to play whom in the movie.
You know, the really important stuff.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
the blog list is back!
I'm not only celebrating that my blog list is back and I can catch up with some of my favorite bloggers and friends (and further my procrastination), but that I checked something off my To-Do list.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have some blog-reading to do.
Enjoy, friends.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have some blog-reading to do.
Enjoy, friends.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
a Lulu of a day
This morning I recorded a video blog interview at Lulu.com headquarters in Raleigh, NC, just down the road from the NC State campus. It was my first time visiting the restored building (complete with tractor on the roof), and I was graciously welcomed and given a tour. This opportunity came to me as the result of a post from Lulu on Twitter, and from there it all fell into place.
Aside from the friendly staff who greeted me and took the time to show me around, I was impressed by the magnitude of the operation. When an indy author works with a POD company such as Lulu, it's easy to miss the human face when the interaction is all electronic. How lucky I was to get an inside look!
The interview went well -- I read a little bit from FAKING IT, and put in a plug for ORDINARY WORLD as well. I was also told that mine is the first video blog interview -- woohoo!! I'm a trend-setter!!
The video will be posted to the Lulu.com blogsite on Sept 3rd. (Stay tuned for more reminders.) You'll also want to see the interview for a couple of special giveaways, one of which you'll notice right here on my blog in my storefront -- a free download of a sample from ORDINARY WORLD. (Spoiler alert!! Reading this will give away the ending to FAKING IT!)
(On a side note, the cover for the ebook sample is strictly temporary -- the actually OW book cover is still in the works, but I know it's gonna be great.)
There a a bunch of good reasons to seek an agent and a traditional publishing deal. And yet, being an indy author continues to reward me with readers, new friends, and tons of support. I am grateful for it all. Thank you again, Lulu.com, especially Carol, AJ, and Nick, for your hospitality this morning. Can't wait to see the finished product.
In the meantime, I keep writing.
Monday, August 24, 2009
awestruck: what The Beatles and Aaron Sorkin have in common
Ah, my poor neglected blog! I was hoping to get a post in sooner, but as they say, "better late than pregnant"...
The other day I was in my car. I had forgotten to bring my audiobook with me, so I popped in Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. I hadn't listened to it in ages.
I grew up listening to the Beatles. They were extended members of my family. My brothers are musicians and one is a recording engineer because of the Beatles. I can sing their harmonies, play any of their songs on my guitar (provided it's in the key of G, E, D, or A -- in other words, the easy stuff), and more. I'm no stranger to Pepper.
But the other day, something struck me. I heard something that I'd never really paid attention to before -- the guitar overdubs in the Reprise had a distinctive sound as opposed to the bass and drums. Naturally, I called the Pepper guru (my brother Mike), and asked him about it. It turns out that my theory of how it was done was close to how it was actually done, and I was quite pleased with myself for having such a perceptive ear. I was equally pleased to be able to have a conversation with Mike and not sound like a complete idiot. I love to hear him talk about it. The passion in his voice is as inspiring as the album itself.
Mike and I continued to discuss other technical nuances, and once again I marveled at the final product of this album. The Beatles get credit for the great music -- that's where it all starts. But Geroge Martin, Geoff Emerick, and the assistant engineers get all the credit for going beyond the bounds of recording and asking "How can this be done?" instead of settling for "It can't be done" or "It's never been done before." I am simply astounded by the engineering, the sound of it all, not to mention the hows and whats and whys of it.
Meanwhile, I've been watching Season 1 of The West Wing since buying the DVD box for a fab price at a used bookstore (all I need are Seasons 2 and 4, and Sports Night!)
I watch episodes of The West Wing the way I listen to Sgt. Pepper: in awe.
So many episodes of TWW -- in Season 1 alone -- stand alone as short films, cinematic pieces of art. Just as Pepper starts with the music, TWW starts with the writing. I will never stop talking about Aaron Sorkin's talent, his orchestral-like compositions of dialogue, his penchant for telling a story and/or putting two characters into a room together who disagree on something. Sorkin considers himself a playright first and foremost, and so many episodes of TWW can be performed as such. When he left the show at the end of Season 4, the show kept being nominated for Emmys and was one of the better dramas on television. But that's all it was for me-- another drama on television. It had lost its heart and soul, as far as I was concerned. Imagine the Beatles without John Lennon.
But what makes TWW so great are all the other elements -- acting, directing, music, lighting, set design, props, etc. These are the equivalent to the reverbs, overdubs, mic settings, orchestral arrangements, track bouncing, etc., of Pepper. And, like all those who worked on Pepper, each one is at the top of his/her game. It's downright synergistic.
And don't get me started on rhetorical appeals. TWW is so fabulously rhetorical and so full of pathos that I must stop myself from taking Season 1 to class with me and doing a complete analysis for my students (I'm afraid I'd be the only one in the room having any fun.)
Recently on the Aaron Sorkin forum "Questions for me" on Facebook, Aaron Sorkin himself responded to a conversation between a couple of writers about listening to music while writing. Two of us, myself being one of them, commented that we couldn't listen to music while writing (what we had failed to clarify was that by "writing" we meant "typing").
His advice:
"Don't do it while you're writing--do it while you're thinking. Or not thinking. Listen to music in the car. You'll hear an old song you liked when you were in high school and suddenly the lyrics will mean something new to you."
He's right, of course, and so much of this kind of musical interaction serves as the inspiration for a scene or bit of dialogue or a character's motivation. Pepper doesn't necessarily inspire the ordinary. Pepper inspires synergy. It piques my curosity, and makes me want to break each song and listen to it piece by piece.
As does TWW. Such works of art inspire me to be at the top of my game while simultaneously taking my breath away. Better still, they bring me joy and keep me close to people I love.
My point?
I'm not sure. I suppose it is this: find your own Sgt. Pepper or West Wing. Find the creative masterpiece that knocks your socks off, and draw from it like water from a well. Let it quench your own thirst to create, and sustain you through the dry spells. Let it taste good and cool you off or warm you up and feel all gooey and happy inside and out. Swim in it. Bathe in it. Or just float.
The other day I was in my car. I had forgotten to bring my audiobook with me, so I popped in Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. I hadn't listened to it in ages.
I grew up listening to the Beatles. They were extended members of my family. My brothers are musicians and one is a recording engineer because of the Beatles. I can sing their harmonies, play any of their songs on my guitar (provided it's in the key of G, E, D, or A -- in other words, the easy stuff), and more. I'm no stranger to Pepper.
But the other day, something struck me. I heard something that I'd never really paid attention to before -- the guitar overdubs in the Reprise had a distinctive sound as opposed to the bass and drums. Naturally, I called the Pepper guru (my brother Mike), and asked him about it. It turns out that my theory of how it was done was close to how it was actually done, and I was quite pleased with myself for having such a perceptive ear. I was equally pleased to be able to have a conversation with Mike and not sound like a complete idiot. I love to hear him talk about it. The passion in his voice is as inspiring as the album itself.
Mike and I continued to discuss other technical nuances, and once again I marveled at the final product of this album. The Beatles get credit for the great music -- that's where it all starts. But Geroge Martin, Geoff Emerick, and the assistant engineers get all the credit for going beyond the bounds of recording and asking "How can this be done?" instead of settling for "It can't be done" or "It's never been done before." I am simply astounded by the engineering, the sound of it all, not to mention the hows and whats and whys of it.
Meanwhile, I've been watching Season 1 of The West Wing since buying the DVD box for a fab price at a used bookstore (all I need are Seasons 2 and 4, and Sports Night!)
I watch episodes of The West Wing the way I listen to Sgt. Pepper: in awe.
So many episodes of TWW -- in Season 1 alone -- stand alone as short films, cinematic pieces of art. Just as Pepper starts with the music, TWW starts with the writing. I will never stop talking about Aaron Sorkin's talent, his orchestral-like compositions of dialogue, his penchant for telling a story and/or putting two characters into a room together who disagree on something. Sorkin considers himself a playright first and foremost, and so many episodes of TWW can be performed as such. When he left the show at the end of Season 4, the show kept being nominated for Emmys and was one of the better dramas on television. But that's all it was for me-- another drama on television. It had lost its heart and soul, as far as I was concerned. Imagine the Beatles without John Lennon.
But what makes TWW so great are all the other elements -- acting, directing, music, lighting, set design, props, etc. These are the equivalent to the reverbs, overdubs, mic settings, orchestral arrangements, track bouncing, etc., of Pepper. And, like all those who worked on Pepper, each one is at the top of his/her game. It's downright synergistic.
And don't get me started on rhetorical appeals. TWW is so fabulously rhetorical and so full of pathos that I must stop myself from taking Season 1 to class with me and doing a complete analysis for my students (I'm afraid I'd be the only one in the room having any fun.)
Recently on the Aaron Sorkin forum "Questions for me" on Facebook, Aaron Sorkin himself responded to a conversation between a couple of writers about listening to music while writing. Two of us, myself being one of them, commented that we couldn't listen to music while writing (what we had failed to clarify was that by "writing" we meant "typing").
His advice:
"Don't do it while you're writing--do it while you're thinking. Or not thinking. Listen to music in the car. You'll hear an old song you liked when you were in high school and suddenly the lyrics will mean something new to you."
He's right, of course, and so much of this kind of musical interaction serves as the inspiration for a scene or bit of dialogue or a character's motivation. Pepper doesn't necessarily inspire the ordinary. Pepper inspires synergy. It piques my curosity, and makes me want to break each song and listen to it piece by piece.
As does TWW. Such works of art inspire me to be at the top of my game while simultaneously taking my breath away. Better still, they bring me joy and keep me close to people I love.
My point?
I'm not sure. I suppose it is this: find your own Sgt. Pepper or West Wing. Find the creative masterpiece that knocks your socks off, and draw from it like water from a well. Let it quench your own thirst to create, and sustain you through the dry spells. Let it taste good and cool you off or warm you up and feel all gooey and happy inside and out. Swim in it. Bathe in it. Or just float.
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