How did I forget to post this?!?

I've decided I'm going to blame every bit of idiocy that I can on that fact that I've been a bit busy lately. (And believe me, there's been a lot of idiocy.)

Ready?

Here goes. Our good friend (and chocolate lover) Steena Holmes is hosting a OMG blog contest with Stina. There are prizes including a query critique, a first pages critique (by Michelle and I) and ...

chocolate!!!

I apologize for the failing to point you towards the contest earlier, but hope I've mentioned it in time for you to still take advantage of it. You have till May 3.

First Page Friday, sort of....

Hi everyone! A while ago, I sent a submission to Nicola Morgan's Submission Spotlight.

Guess what posted today?

So if you have some time, run on over to her post and leave your feedback. It's going to be a crazy day at work, but I can't wait to read all the feedback when I get back...

In the meantime, if you want to contribute to our own little first page posts, see our rules here.

Need a laugh?

You have to check these out. They're the 2009 winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.

For those of you who don't know, Edward Bulwer-Lytton had a way with words. He coined the phrases "the pen is mightier than the sword" and "the great unwashed". He wrote The Last Days of Pompeii.*

He is probably most famous, though, for the first line in his novel, Paul Clifford:

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

Now isn't that proof that you can't win them all? You might write lines that linger in culture and novels that are still in libraries. Snoopy might plagiarize you!

And ... you might also write a first line so heinous that it spawns a contest where folks try to write equally heinous first lines.

First lines you should go read. Here. Now. And don't forget the grand prize winners from the past twenty-six years.

If you're feeling particularly cheerful, please come back and paste your favorite first line in the comments section.

*Facts lifted shamelessly from Wikipedia.)

Relax

Hear that? That's the sound of me taking a deeeeeeep breath.

It's been one of the those months. I've been crazy busy at work. I have some upcoming projects, and I've been worried that I might screw them up.

I haven't had time to write as much as I'd like, and I wanted to have all this work finished by Chautauqua.

And silly as it sounds, we lost a follower today.

I am all about discipline, pressing through, and being committed to one's goal. However, I think it's very, very easy to mistake uptightness for passion.

Uptightness leads to ulcers, deep disappointment with myself and my perceived lack of progress, fear about the future, and a feeling that somehow ... some way ... I should be doing more. A lot more.

It involves copious amounts of chocolate that one is too nervous to even enjoy.

Passion, on the other hand, allows me to pour myself into my writing and write with abandon. Not compulsion. Not fear. Not a need to prove myself. It reminds me that I started blogging because of the awesome folks out in cyberspace (and you are awesome!). Not because I was trying to win a popularity contest.

(Passion also involves lots of chocolate, but you're relaxed enough to taste it.)

It's pretty easy for me to be kind to others. With myself? Not so much, sometimes.

I'm guessing that I'm not the only one who struggles with this. So ... here's a reminder to all of us to be gracious towards ourselves.

I feel better already. : )

p.s. Please, please don't think I'm complaining about losing a follower! (I didn't even try to figure out who it might have been.) I only mentioned it because it made me realize how silly I'd been. I've been so worried that person might wander back and think I was ragging on him/her...

What do you hear?

I've been driving a lot lately. The school I work at is nearly 20 miles away- and then I've been providing homebound instruction after that. More driving!

Thank goodness for books on MP3 player. (Your local library might have a few Playaways. Check. Them. Out.)

But I digress.

You know how you're always told to read your manuscript aloud when editing? Well, listening to other books has been eye-opening as well. Here's what has stood out to me:

Passive verbs are boring. Really. A bunch of passive verbs* sounds boring. The language is vanilla, but it often goes hand in hand with similarly constructed sentences. They all have "he/she/they - is/was/were" pattern. It's mind-numbing to listen to sentence after sentence like that. After a while, I'd end up fixing the sentences.

Aloud. To an empty car: "'The water sparkled.' Okay? Not 'The water was sparkling.'"

Aren't I glad no one was watching me.

Don't spend too much time describing your character's internal state. In one story, the author would occasionally give a physical description that showed what the character felt. And then he'd tell us what the character felt. And tell us again. Of course, this much-described emotion occurred during tense parts of the novel. So instead of finding out what happened next, I had to listen through several more sentences about the character's inner state.

I confess that such mistakes led to excessive eye rolling, an occasional pound on the steering wheel, and loud pleas to the author to just tell me what happened next, already.

Repeated words. I don't always notice if I read the same word in a paragraph.** But I sure notice when I hear it again and again. This also applies if only one word is used in a specific situation. Someone might always be referred to as foreboding, or mysterious, for instance. Time for a thesaurus, folks. If I know the word the author is going to use before I hear it, that word is waaaaaaayyy overused.

I've loved listening to books while I drive. If you're curious, I never stopped listening because of the above mistakes. I think it was partially because the plots were interesting, and partly because I was a captive audience.

None of the mistakes are new to me (or you, I imagine). However, it's one thing to tell or be told about those mistakes. It's different when you experience them. I don't want anyone who reads my story to have a similar reaction.

I'd love to know whether you read your manuscripts aloud and if that helps you. What do you notice? And if you do listen to books, are there any aspects of the writing that rub you the wrong way?

* any form of "to be": is, are, was, were, etc.

** My fellow Slushies would point out that I don't notice if I write the same word repeatedly.

Alot of laughs

I found this link over at the Pub Rants blog. Enjoy the much needed humor- and the introduction to the Alot.

And if you feel like it, come back here and share your language/ grammar peeves in the comments section. Extra points if you provide an explanation that allows you to be civil when you come across the mistake. (I like the eagle/no caps explanation myself.)

We're going to Chautauqua!

Exciting news!

Michelle and I both applied for scholarships to the Highlights Writers Foundation Workshop in Chautauqua, New York.

We found out this week that we're both going! There was a bit of drama in the whole process. I found out a while ago that I'd been awarded a scholarship. But Michelle didn't hear anything for weeks.

And weeks.

She discovered Friday that her e-mail notification had been sent 12 days ago; she just never got it.

As you can imagine, there was rejoicing all round, as the picture clearly shows.*

Now I know there are some Highlights alumni (hi, Tess and Fran!) out there- and perhaps even some folks who will be attending this year. Please identify yourselves! And I'd love to hear any comments you have about the whole experience.

*I'm the tall one, and Michelle (like all grammar experts) is the cool one with shades.

First Page Friday, #5

Yay! We have more first pages! Many thanks to Steena of Chocolate Reality for contributing them. We do ask, given the name of her blog, that you eat chocolate while working on your critique. (Or at least think chocolately thoughts.)

It's a rough, I know, but sometimes you just gotta do what needs to be done.

And on that note, here are Steena's first pages.

Megan's hand rested against the closed door. The silence coming from inside the room cried out to her, calling her with its lonely song. Today she would give in to its haunting melody, embrace it and pray she would never hear it again.

As she twisted the handle, she closed her eyes knowing the sight would break her heart. Tendrils of light spread along the carpet and crept up towards the ceiling. The soft pink curtains were open, the sunlight engulfing the room with its welcoming warmth. I keep them closed. She eased her way into the room, one step at a time, her toes sinking deep into the Berber carpet while keeping her gaze fixed on the open window ahead of her.

Princess decals decorated the rose colored walls, pictures of Cinderella, Ariel and Belle intertwined with stickers of sparkling crowns, steeple castles and framed crayon drawings. A sad smile settled on Megan’s face as she viewed the pictures her four year old drew with loving detail. Her favorite frame held a picture of a castle, complete with a queen and king, both wearing extra large crowns over their poufy hair while they held hands with three tiny little princesses. The last picture her daughter had drawn, right here in this very room.

Megan reached the bed and set her hand upon the wood frame as she closed her eyes. She could hear Emily's squeals of delight when, at the age of two, she found her princess bed in her very own princess room. Soft white sheers hung over a handmade wood frame. They draped across the top, where tiny little stars had been ironed onto the sheers, and they hung over the ends, and down the sides. Soft pink fabric encircled the side pieces, creating an opening on either side of the bed for the little princess to enter at will. In the evenings Emily would ask for the curtains to be drawn. She felt safe inside her bed. Megan wished she were there now.

Her hand caressed the white coverlet as a single tear wounds its way past her cheek. Megan climbed onto the bed, her body weary and curled in a ball, wishing the pillow still smelled of baby powder. She closed her eyes, wishing she could imagine her daughter lying beside her, but the image seemed distant. She pictured Emily's tiny body snuggled up against her chest. Megan's arm ached to hold her, her hand wanting to smooth her baby's soft blond hair. The curly hair of a stuffed lamb met her fingers instead. Megan pulled it close, bringing it to her face. Her tears soaked its fur as silent sobs shook her body.

Process and Emotion

I’ve been thinking about the role that my emotion plays in writing.

Now I’m not the overly emotional type when it comes to writing. I’m horribly pragmatic about it. So pragmatic that few things irritate me more than folks asking about Process with a capital P.

(This is different from process, which just means, how do you get your thoughts on paper?)

But there are those who mean Process. And that irritates me because Process implies glamour, genius, and weekly dates with your Muse who gushes about your prose and how you surprise even her.

Capital-P Process is a horrible concept because writing is really just ... writing. It isn’t glamorous and you rarely feel like a genius. In fact, you learn all the ways in which you are far from genius. Your Muse arrives only after you’ve been pounding out dreck for quite some time, hoping to discover the heart of a scene.

Even then, she’s a little tetchy and asks for a cup of coffee because you can’t expect her to look at your work until she’s had a bit of caffeine.

The process (lowercase p, mind you!) of writing isn’t always euphoric. As Nathan Bransford blogged, it's often more about willpower than anything else.

And yet...

I’m learning that the best part of my stories are the ones that engaged me on a deep emotional level. I know I’m on the right track when I’ve gone over a scene a million times, and hit the point where I care.

We all have those scenes that wrote themselves and just sing. But I also have just as many scenes- scenes necessary to the story- that are easy to leave at good enough, at merely well-written. I’m learning to do some unglamorous digging until I find that one aspect that moves me to curiosity, anger, or compassion.

Because, really, if I was bored writing the scene, why won’t a reader be bored reading it? Yes, writing is about the process of getting (and keeping!) your butt in a chair. But the point of that work is capturing scenes that speak to the heart and mind.

Writing should never be an choice between work or emotion. It should always be about both.

So what about you? What role does emotion play in your writing? How do you keep at it day after day until things are just right? I’d love to know how you do it. It’s amazing all the different ways we get our stories on the page.

Review of Ferradiddledumday by Becky Mushko

Ferradiddledumday: An Appalachian Version of Rumpelstiltskin by Becky Mushko, copyright 2010, folklore, ISBN 978-0-9842449-1-1

Becky Mushko’s Ferradiddledumday is a delightful variation of the Grimm’s fairy tale of a young girl spinning straw into gold. Becky has taken this European story and given it an authentic Appalachian flavor.

Throughout her story one learns about the plants and animals common to the Appalachian Mountain ecosystem, as well as the farming practices and culture of the Blue Ridge Mountains of the 19th century.

Unlike the original version where the father’s boasting puts the young girl’s life in jeopardy, here the economic struggles common to this era and place threaten the family homestead. Like the Grimm’s version, the young daughter must give her first born to the leprechaun-like creature unless she can solve the mystery of his name.

The illustrations by Bruce Rae are as rough hewn as the hard scrabble life of the Appalachian people.

Becky includes a study and discussion guide for teachers who are studying folk tales. This guide covers multiple disciplines: literature, geography, history and science.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this tale because of its authenticity to the life and times of Appalachia. Also there are sufficient differences between this and the Grimm’s version that makes it an interesting read.

The author provided a copy of the book for this review.

Nicola Morgan's new book!

I think many of you know Nicola Morgan's website. (For those of you who don't, you need to visit now. It's a great resource for writers. And she loves chocolate and wears amazing boots.)

Nicola's new book, Wasted, is being released May 3rd. She just started a blog dedicated to Wasted with all sorts of giveaways and other good stuff. So, run on over and visit.

I know Nicola won't need it, but we wish her all sorts of luck with this new release!

Author Interview with Jame Richards

Jame Richards is a member of the Class of 2K10. Her debut YA novel, Three Rivers Rising: A Novel of the Johnstown Flood is historical fiction. Here is a synopsis of the book, which will be released April 13, followed by the author’s interview.

Celestia is the vacationing sixteen year-old daughter of a wealthy Pittsburgh businessman, and Peter is a local teen from the opposite end of the social strata. Peter has temporarily escaped the start of what will likely be a life in the coal mines -- like his father -- by finding work at the resort for the fabulously wealthy of Pittsburgh which is situated on the edge of man-made Lake Conemaugh. We know from history that the dam creating the lake -- perched 450 feet above Johnstown, Pennsylvania -- will fail on May 31, 1889, and that over 2,200 people will perish thanks to the destruction caused by the sudden release of 20 million tons of water. Nearly a year before that fateful event, while Celestia is summering with her family at the resort on the lake, she meets Peter. These two teens are among the characters who narrate in prose poetry this tale of the filthy rich and exceptionally poor as the clock ticks down to the day of disaster.

You mentioned that all your vacations as a child were spent visiting museums and historical sites. Did you visit the site of the Johnstown flood as a child with your family? If so, did it leave a lasting impression on you? Can you describe that impression? No, we didn't visit Johnstown in ye olde browne station wagon, which means it may very well be the only national monument, park, tomb or museum that we missed. But I do think that, in general, all the historical sites we visited prepared me to be a writer of historical fiction. They definitely made a lasting impression: for example, I often dreamed at night that I was fighting in the Revolutionary or Civil War, or that I was hiding from soldiers in a false cupboard. The past felt very real and alive to me---still does. I could walk into any restoration or living history museum and start carding wool or something.

Was there something in your background/education that made you such a good writer of verse? This answer also goes back to my childhood and my parents. Both my parents are extremely creative, they have extensive vocabularies and they are always reading. So I had access to as many books as I could consume and my mother often read the same book at the same time. Everyday was book group in our house: at the breakfast table, we'd analyze our dreams and see how our nightly reading seeped into them, then we'd try to predict where we thought the book was going, etc. We still do this, just over the phone now. And I mention dreams because I think the language of dreams is similar to that of poetry (and literature, in general). Symbolism. Emotion. Transformation. Don't you wake up sometimes and say, "What a dream! That would make a great book!" As far as my education, I think I probably had the same exposure to poetry that most folks get in a public school and liberal arts college. For some reason I didn't shut down when I heard the word "poetry" the way others seemed to do. I love stories and I'll take them in any form. I didn't really plan to be a poet, but when I decided to try writing, poetry came naturally.

Other than the genre that you already write, what other sort of book would you like to attempt? A picture book would be ideal for my poetic style---I hope---but I haven't crossed paths with the right story idea yet. I'm trying my hand at a middle grade historical fiction work in progress, but usually when I try to write MG, it gets older and older until its YA by about page three. Contemporary YA sounds good, too. I love to make people laugh, so I'd like to try humor, or humorous elements. I guess I'm open to any genre.

At what point in the writing process do you prefer to have other people read your work? Do you want feedback at the first draft stage, or once you’ve done all you can with it and don’t know where to go next? In the past, I've always tried to make everything as perfect as possible before showing anyone, but I don't think I'll have time for that going into the future. I write very slowly! So, I'll need to know if something's not working far sooner now. I'm getting much more comfortable with showing early versions to my critique group or mentor. My word of caution to other writers: don't spill the whole story to your group before you write it! Save the energy for the page.

What is the question you never get asked but are always dying to answer? Q: What's your super power and what's your Kryptonite? A: My super power is telling apart all kinds of diet cola. My Kryptonite is artificial cherry flavor (shudder).

Thanks, Jame, for visiting with us! We wish you great success with your book.