Sunday, October 28, 2012

The Latest Addition


DEAN CROKE

Dean and sister, Sharon
Dean’s adventuresome spirit has led him from stints in the Caribbean, where he spent nine years, to Berkeley and San Francisco, where he spent over ten years.  He has spent much time up and down the west coast, and currently lives points east.  His passion is for science fiction, both near and far-term, although he also writes dark fantasy, action-adventure, and metaphysical non-fiction texts. 
His initial sci-fi book is expected out in early 2013.  It is the first in a series of tomes, reminiscent of R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones, and Peter F. Hamilton’s larger works.  He plans to “rest up” afterwards by releasing smaller, more standard-sized sci-fi novels over the course of the year.  He participates in several critique groups, both in Columbia and online.   

Advice to a Beginning Writer


By Dean Croke

"Get into the flow," as Mihaly Csikszenthmihalyi, author of  Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, would say. Put aside your hyper-rational mind. There'll be room for that later come time to polish your work.

That said, if you're seeing the movie play out in your head vividly, and it's so real and captivating, this doesn't mean it's ready to go. Just that these scenes will likely make it into the book. They feel right on some level to you. Now it's a matter of making them make sense to the reader.

Now's a good time to pick up a book on narrative structure and see how the pieces you put down on paper fit together, how to glue the scenes together, and what missing pieces need filling in.

When you move from that "flow state", which is very right-brained incidentally, in which patterns are entirely clear to you, into "editing state", which is more left-brained, you begin to see how the reader might need more hand-holds, and suddenly how what was so obvious to you leaves the reader entirely lost.

Without three-act structure your reader is lost. But three acts is a lot more than beginning, middle and end. Did you know there are 15 chief beats that a good story must have according the Save the Cat by Blake Snyder? That's not a typo, the number really is 15. Now how many of those are in your story? If any of them is missing, your story won't feel right on some level. Your reader won't feel entirely satisfied, even if he can't articulate why.

You can read a million books on narrative structure and learn something from each of them, but not everything you need. Or you could read one very terse book, and even just a small section of that, and get what you need. Total investment of your time: 20 minutes. It's worth it. I strongly recommend you pick up a copy of Save the Cat. So next time I ask you, where is your "all is lost" moment, you'll understand what I'm asking.

When I mention that your mid-point is a "false high" and so is your "act two climax", you'll understand why that's a problem.

And if I appear flummoxed by why you didn't start your story with a "hook scene", you'll go, "Oh, my God, you're right!"

Or if I say I can't tell the difference between your "fun and games" section and your "the bad guys close in" section in Act Two, you'll know right away what I mean and how to fix it.

Did you know that Act Two is an upside down universe relative to Act One? That the general three act structure follows this pattern: 1) thesis, 2) antithesis, 3) synthesis. So if I can't tell much difference from your act two world and your act one world, you already know that's a big problem.

Did you know that before your hero can enter Act Three, he has to make a decision on a strategic approach to winning the day? And that decision is based on lessons learned from the B-story? Not only does the theme usually come out in your B-story, that's where your hero gains a lot of the strength to overcome increasing obstacles throughout your story.

But again, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know if you've read Save the Cat.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Vision Board for Writers


By Leigh Stevenson


I have created a Vision Board. I reveal this at the risk of sounding woo-woo to the uninitiated. My reason is not so much to “bring” the things on my board to me as it is to remind me of what I want to explore and create space for in my life. It has become a kind
of visual list.

All it requires is poster board, scissors and a few old magazines. If you are artistic, you can create your own drawings. You add to your Vision Board those things that elude you. Those things you never seem to have time for. Place it where you can see it on a regular basis.

As writers we are always dealing with the written word. That’s a given. To add depth and texture to writing, I believe in using all the senses. Thus I have my visual reminder. Some of the aspects of my board represent making time for friendships; reading books in all genres, not just my own; traveling; and exploring poetry. And as is, I believe, the way of the Universe, my life and my writing somehow now encompass these things.

One reminder from the Vision Board that has given me great pleasure is poetry and newly discovered poets. My mother was a poet and writer, and although I’ve been around poetry all my life, my knowledge of it is limited. There are the old favorites; Shakespeare (Goes without saying. The man wrote in iambic pentameter), Dickinson, Keats, Whitman, Rumi, Frost. The list is endless. But what has been a revelation is the newly discovered poets. Among others new to me are Ann Michaels and Mary Oliver. Their words astonish, surprise and often transfix me. Bonnie Stanard, too, of our own Columbia II Writer’s Workshop is not only a novelist but a very fine poet. Her images are fresh and haunting.

So, I must recommend the Vision Board. If only as an interesting exercise, it may have value for you. At best, it could create space for things you didn’t know were missing.






Sunday, October 7, 2012

How to Write People: One Socially Inept Writer’s Hopeless and Sisyphean Struggle to Capture the Complexities of Human Social Behavior in Prose, Part II


By Shaun McCoy

In part I of this article we discussed how human relationships can be revealed by showing differing levels of reciprocation.  This article will take reciprocity one step farther by adding indirect speech.

When two people have different expectations of reciprocation we find conflict, and to cover up that conflict we find indirect speech. Almost everybody uses it, and readers intuitively recognize such cover-ups as natural sounding conversation. So let’s take a look at a real life example. 

Joe Bastianich was minding his own business, working for a paper reviewing restaurants in New York, when he was ordered to attempt to bribe maitre d’s to see if he could get seated without a reservation. Even though there was nothing illegal about such a bribe, Bastianich reported that he was extremely nervous about attempting this assignment. What he found was astonishing. Twenty dollars was about all that was required to get seated in even the finest of dining establishments. What is of interest to writers, however, are the things that Joe found himself saying as he offered the bribe. 

Upon being told that there were no seats available and that a reservation would be required, Joe would hold out his twenty dollar bill and say: “Could you check again?” or “Is it possible one might have just opened up?”

What odd things to say while offering a bribe. It’s not like he could pretend that he wasn’t offering the money! His words were indirect speech, a cover up for his request for a different level of reciprocity. By offering the exchange, Joe was trying to attain an exchange reciprocity.  Joe’s questions, however, maintain the fiction and feel of the maitre d’s dominance.

Now let’s take a look at indirect speech in fiction.

In the movie Fargo, Steve Buscemi is cruising down the road when he gets pulled over by a police officer. Steve hands the officer his wallet, ostensibly to show his driver’s license, but leaves a fifty dollar bill edging out of his bill fold. I’ll paraphrase below:

“I prefer to handle these matters as quickly as possible.”

He does not say: “Hey, I’ll give you fifty bucks if you make this ticket go away.” His speech maintains the fiction of the policeman’s dominance while he attempts the exchange. 

Indirect speech can cover up any level of reciprocity mismatch, and the speech doesn’t always have to be verbal. A wife in a patriarchal relationship might start vacuuming while her husband tries to watch football on TV. Passive aggressive behavior is almost always indirect speech, and in this example, maintains the fiction of the patriarch’s complete dominance while the wife secretly claims via her vacuuming that she has a right to be angry or ask for attention.

Let’s imagine a girl flirting with her waiter, or a boy with a crush on a girl on an elementary school playground, or a person assigned to torture a prisoner of war. What kind of indirect speech might these people use to cover up the relationships they really want to have?

If your sympathetic guard watches your prisoner be tortured, let’s say in Siberia, and then gives the prisoner a blanket, we might be touched. But imagine how much more poignant this scene becomes when the guard lies, saying “I hate dogs like you” while handing the blanket over. If the reader knows that the statement is a lie and sees that the guard is using indirect speech to cover their true feelings, the scene is no longer merely touching. It suddenly becomes real.

Watch for indirect speech in real life, you’re bound to see it at least once a day. It is yet another valuable tool for making your dialogue snappy, powerful, and realistic.

But wait, is there more? What other gems does cognitive psychology have to offer the writer? Find out in the exciting sequel: How to Write People: One Socially Inept Writer’s Hopeless and Sisyphean Struggle to Capture the Complexities of Human Social Behavior in Prose, Part III

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Writing Non-fiction with Panache



By Chris Mathews

Writing non-fiction does not have to be a dry, pedestrian venture. In fact, in today’s internet world, original ways of approaching real-life events can make the difference between prose that touches people and prose that bores.

In the piece that follows, I tried to inject the simple act of doing a project with my grandchild into a piece that captured the frustration and joy of the experience.


Excavating the Triceratops with Poppy and Granddaughter Sidney Grace

 On Saturday, August 18th, in Ridgeland, South Carolina, Poppy and his granddaughter Sidney Grace Mathews unearthed and reconstructed a triceratops, defined by Wikipedia as a genus of herbivorous ceratopsid dinosaurs which lived during the late Mesozoic period. Forget that scientists now think that this famous, fearsome three-horned triceratops was actually a younger version of the torosaurus. Forget that Ridgeland, South Carolina has never been known for its tarpits (in fact, it barely has a ridge). Forget that this monumental achievement will never be displayed in the Smithsonian.

Poppy and Gracie dug out a triceratops together, using only a small blue, plastic spade and brush. Gracie did most of the brushing, Poppy scraped with the spade. This joint expedition took place in the Mathews’ den atop a glass coffee table.

The team of Poppy and Gracie unearthed this find by extricating a clay egg enclosed in vacuum-sealed plastic labeled Dino World Fossil Kit. Excavating instructions were listed on the back in both English and Spanish:

1. While over an easily cleanable surface or newspaper, remove the dino egg from its wrapper. MarMar, grandma, suggested the kitchen table as the perfect location for this expedition but Poppy wanted a challenge, so he placed a poster sized “No Diving” sign on the clear glass wood-rimmed table.

2. Make sure that the egg is firmly held in place. Carefully, remove dirt using the excavating tools provided (the previously mentioned spade and brush) Wanting results, Poppy left out the “carefully”. After shaving slivers for a short time, he squeezed the clay to smithereens. Gracie reveled in the clay, fragments cascading off the table and onto the carpet, leaving her looking like a street urchin. Feeling the exhilaration of risk-takers, the two opted not to “WEAR EYE PROTECTION” as posted at the bottom of this step.

3. When done removing dirt, clean fossils using the brush. It is very important to remove all dirt from holes that are used to connect pieces to allow a more secure fit. Poppy discovered this important fact as Gracie brushed off the pieces and he tried to force the tiny nubs into the dinosaur’s torso. 

4. Never force the pieces together. If they are not fitting, check for dirt in the holes. Poppy jammed the nubs of the legs into the tiny holes, but only managed to reconstruct a three-legged Triceratops with tail and horned head. Each time Poppy wedged the last leg in its hole, another leg fell off. The plastic legs matched the light tan carpet exactly so finding one that dropped was not easy. After twenty minutes of dropping, picking-up, and twisting legs, Poppy had taken on the demeanor of a mad scientist. Sidney Grace, however, did not lose confidence in Poppy. She just kept playing with the clay, spilling a few crumbs on the carpet as MarMar gleamed with pride at the two with a look of “I knew it wouldn’t stay on the table”.

Finally, after blowing profusely in the holes and delicately washing and blow-drying these tiny orifices, Poppy assembled the Triceratops on four legs. Sidney Grace was impressed, even though Poppy failed to mount the two back legs in the two holes provided on the plastic stand shown in the illustration, deeming the stand “for nincompoops”. After the two proudly gazed at their tiny monstrosity, Marc, Sidney Grace’s dad and Poppy’s son, proclaimed “naptime” for the smudged-face waif.


Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Writing for Episodic TV


By Kimberly Johnson

Ba-ba-badaa. With those three beats, everyone in America knows that Law & Order is on the tube. Cue the fluttery flutes and wait for the get-down-with-it guitar riffs, and suddenly the men and women of law enforcement are policing the NYC streets for the next 60 minutes.

I’ll admit it—I watch Law & Order for the actors (Ice-T, Jerry Orbach, Chris Noth). I really stay tuned because of the thought-provoking storylines. Enter Rene Balcer, the Emmy-winning producer of the NBC crime drama. Balcer, a Montreal native, held several writing jobs on the set: a show runner, an executive producer and a head writer.
After watching a show featuring Robin Williams, I thought: How does journalist/freelancer/part-time wordsmith secure a gig in Hollywood?

I pulled up The Writers Guild of America’s website and clicked on the Writing for Episodic TV section. The WGA provided tips for my pursuit for fame and fortune:

Tip #1: I need a spec script. This is Hollywood talk for a work sample that has not been paid for nor commissioned. Opinions vary on whether I should write a spec for a TV show, a pilot or a screenplay or submit an original body of work. Glen Mazzara, a former executive producer of The Shield, sums up: “When I was trying to figure out how to break into the industry as a TV writer, someone explained to me that a spec TV script is your version of an episode of a show currently on TV. You pick a show that you like, that you feel you can write, and write your version to show as a writing sample. It has no connection with the actual series.”

Tip #2: I need an industry insider to read my spec script. For a fresh-off-the-bus type like me, a freelance writer must network. I found this WGA’s advice very helpful: “Resourcefulness and determination are common themes. Remember, all you have to do is impress one “right person,” a person who can hire you to write a script or who can put you in a room with a person who can hire you, and you’re on your way.”

Tip #3: I need an agent, I think. Writing a good spec script is the best way to pique the interest of an agent, according to the WGA. It provides a list of Guild approved agents and agencies for members and non-members.

Later on tonight, I’m watching another episode of Law & Order. But this time, I’m taking notes on dialogue, plot, conflict--you name it, so I can start work on my spec script. I’ll let you know if I need an agent.

 

Sunday, September 9, 2012

What Value Do You Give Your Writing?

By Bonnie Stanard

Way back in 2008, the Columbia II workshop took a moment during its meeting to write down advice we would give a person beginning to write. At that time, the Richland County Public Library had declined our request to reserve their large conference room, and we had begun a search for another place to hold our meetings (which is another story).

In giving advice, many of us took the opportunity to remind ourselves of things we already know but too often forget. My notes from that meeting include platitudes we’ve heard before but may be worth repeating.

1. Believe in the importance of your writing.
If you’re like me, you have often felt like you’re the only person in the world who cares about your writing. Discouragement is often subtle. Your well-meaning spouse tells you how to better spend your time. You get into an argument over space in your house for a desk. You can buy a new DVD player, but the budget can’t afford a writers conference.

To your friends and family, “writing” is never a good excuse. Your mother-in-law is offended if you write instead of visit. Your friends think you’re dodging them. Your neighbor suggests you’re a hermit. It’s a hard battle, and what makes it harder is that the fight is against people you love. And in the end, when you insist on your time to write, you’re made to feel selfish, as if you’re the problem.

2. Get feedback from folks who will give honest thoughts.
It’s hard to underestimate the benefit of a well-run workshop. People who write will approach your work dispassionately and are likely to give honest appraisals, since they have nothing to gain or lose. We get false readings from spouses and friends, who give us well-meaning comments that won’t offend us.

3. Spend more time with people who write and value writing.
I’ve found that as a subject of conversation, writing can’t compete with USC’s football team, golf, the latest way to cook a casserole, or where to go for a good hamburger. Not that I’m interested exclusively in writing, but the average person seems to have zero interest. Fortunately, I now have several good writer friends and I value their company.

4. Read current works in the genre in which you like to write.
If you’re a good painter, you know other painters and what they’re doing; a good banker knows other banks and what they’re charging; a good doctor knows other doctors and their treatments. A good writer knows what other writers are doing.

5. Write, write and then rewrite – every day, if possible.
We’re all busy. We hardly have time to eat or gas-up the car, so how can we find time to write? Write while waiting in line at the post office. Scribble while eating a sandwich. Spend your vacation alone with your computer. Give up cooking, gardening, and/or shopping. Let your spouse go to Waffle House for supper. Put the kids to bed with peanut butter sandwiches. Read number one again. Your writing is important.

6. Balance new writing projects with sending out submissions—both are vital.
I resent spending time with submissions, especially since 99% of them will be rejected. But as we’ve said in workshop, it’s really hard to get published if you don’t make submissions. On a positive note, making submissions is getting easier. Many journals are in the process of switching to online submissions managers.

Of all these suggestions, the most important one to me is the first one. When I lived in Chicago I had the good fortune to workshop with Eloise Fink, who gave me confidence. Even at that, for years I left my writing to suffer the slings and arrows of criticism without much support from me. It’s taken a long time, but I now feel that regardless of what anybody else thinks or says, my writing has promise. And it’s worth my effort.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

SCWW Conference - Special Labor Day Weekend Offer

By Ginny Padgett

2012 SCWW Conference – October 19-21 – Myrtle Beach

It’s that time of year again. School is back in session, football returns to fan-filled stadia and South Carolina Writers’ Workshop holds its annual conference.

Here’s the latest conference news. The early-bird registration rate ended yesterday (September 1), but if you register by September 15 and email me at ginnypadgett@sc.rr.com and tell me you saw this blog, I will extend the $50.00 discount. Additionally, I’ll extend the deadline for purchasing a manuscript critique to September 15.

Registration remains open until October 17; however, you’ll pay full price and only pitch and query-letter critique appointments remain for sale.

I hope you’ll join us for the conference. It’s an excellent opportunity to network with other writers and industry professionals, hone your craft, expand your knowledge of publishing trends…and who knows, come away with a book deal! It’s going to be a great weekend for writers in South Carolina.

Take a look at the weekend activities that will mark the 22nd SCWW Conference. (See http://columbiawritersworkshop.blogspot.com/search/label/Ginny%20Padgett) You can go to www.myscww.org/conference/ for all the information, including links to registering for the conference and making your Hilton reservations.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Eggs, Milk and a Keyboard: Ingredients Needed To Write for a Food Review

By Kimberly Johnson

I’ll admit it…I’m a foodie. I watch the culinary shows (even, The Chew). I download the instructional videos. I will spend my next-to-last-dollar on a cookbook.

Last Sunday, I perused the aisles of a local mega bookstore and ooh’d and ah’d over Lidia and Ming. And just before I got hungry, I forked over the cash for Jamie’s Kitchen (Jamie Oliver) and Paula Deen’s Southern Cooking Bible.

At home, my kitchen turned into a full production set that would rival the one on Food Network. I tried out Paula’s Tomato Pie recipe. The ingredients were simple: four tomatoes, basil leaves, mozzarella, cheddar cheese, and mayonnaise, to name a few. The tools of the trade were modest: a deep dish pan, a grater and the oven. In Paula’s original recipe, she combined grated mozzarella, cheddar cheese and mayonnaise. I substituted plain yogurt for the mayonnaise. The result was a tasty treat that I may fix for brunch. Suddenly, I realized that I am good at cooking, eating and writing. But, I wasn’t sure about selling my two cents to an audience. So I hopped on the Internet to discover ways to write a cookbook review.

The experts offered this advice for the beginner reviewer:

#1: Select two or three recipes from your favorite cookbook and sample them. This way, you can get a feel on the author’s cooking style to write a comprehensive assessment. I cheated. I tried just one: Not Yo’ Mama’s Banana Pudding from Paula’s Just Desserts book.

#2: Explain why the book is unique. That’s what Garrett McCord (blogger with Food Blog Alliance) does with his entries. “For example, how does the author explain the use of ingredients in baking better than other authors? By setting the author and subject apart from the overcrowded world of food literature you detail their importance.”

#2: Discuss the author’s flair, presentation and photo arrangement. Let the reader discover the best (or worse) part of the book and don’t give away too much information.

#3: Identify the format. Be sure to include the title, author, and the general theme of the cookbook. Comment on the quality of the photos.

#4: Summarize your impression of the recipes and cooking style of the author. Set a rating system.

Writing a cookbook review seems like hard work. I’m going put my keyboard and taste buds to the grindstone. And hopefully, I can get someone else to spend his or her next-to-last-dollar on Paula Deen.

Sources: www.ehow.com, www.foodbloggersofcanada.com, www.foodblogalliance.com

Sunday, August 19, 2012

How to Write People: One Socially Inept Writer's Hopeless and Sisyphean Struggle to Capture the Complexities of Human Social Behavior in Prose
PART I


By ShaunMcCoy

We’ve all met them, the people who are people people. They have an intuitiveunderstanding of their fellow human beings which allows them to give touching gifts, make funny jokes, and avoid awkward silences even with people they don’t know. Were these people to write, they would write realistic characters who’d pop off of the page like a celebrity foldout book.
But what if we’re not people people? Well for us, there’s cognitive psychology.
Now, mind you, I’d never recommend that you seek psychological help in the traditional sense; after all, I like you just the way you are—particularly that silly little way you have of trying to pass off your personal brand of insanity as being “eclectic.” No really! It gives you character. And you’re a writer, too, so I expect you to be comprehensively kooky. But cognitive psychologists have discovered some gems that have raised my character development to the next level, and I bet they can do the same for you. So let’s look at the Principle of Reciprocity and how combining this with indirect speech is a better way to make your characters appear to be real than the more traditional method of asking your readers to experiment with hallucinogens.
Now you’ve certainly noticed that there are differing levels of expectation for different relationships. We experience reciprocity in communal(family), exchange(friends), and dominance(your superiors or subordinates) on a day today basis.
For instance, if I invite you to my house and communally offer you some sweet tea, I’d be miffed if you tried to pay for it. Whenever there is a break in reciprocity expectation there is often serious tension.
So let’s see this in fiction!
In Conan the Barbarian, Conan, having become a jewel thief, gets drunk with his accomplice, the warrior/babe Valeria. She tries to steal a ruby from him, breaking their reciprocal relationship. Rather than react negatively, Conan unexpectedly gives her the jewel as a gift. He not only forgives her transgression, he offers a communal brand of reciprocity while doing so. This interaction makes their affection suddenly believable.
If I need my feminist protagonist to have a working relationship, I might have her alternate paying for dinner with her date. This mimics a communal reciprocity. If I want her relationship to be on the rocks, I can automatically lower the reader’s expectation of their intimacy by having her split the check at every meal—which doesn’t even mimic reciprocity at all. While these transactions are only a hint towards their relationship’s health, such hints can develop a resonance with the rest of the clues the author drops.
Playing with levels of reciprocity between your characters gives your fictional relationships a level of legitimacy that separates them from the ho-hum interactions in your competition's stories. Imagine a girl flirting with her waiter. Imagine a boy with a crush on a girl in an elementary school playground. Imagine a person assigned to torture a prisoner of war. How can these people show that they want to change their levels of reciprocity?
But does this technique alone give your fictional relationships the much needed veneer of legitimacy which will separate your prose from pack? No. Using Indirect Speech in conjunction with a touch of body language and the Principle of Reciprocity, however, will make your characters come alive.
Well, what’s Indirect Speech, you might ask? What body language is the most effective in accentuating the interpersonal dynamic of our protagonists? What do Joe Bastianich, Steve Buscemi, and Steven Pinker have to do with all of this?
Find answers to these questions and more in: How to Write People: One Socially Inept Writer’s Hopeless and Sisyphean Struggle to Capturethe Complexities of Human Social Behavior in Prose, Part II! (coming soon).

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Personal Experience Trumps Research


By Fred Fields

I have a complaint with Rush Limbaugh. He sounds so logical and knowledgeable and smart. But every time he talks about a subject I know something about, he seems to be just a little bit off the mark.
That happens too, on occasion, when I read an article or a book. The author's research may be correct according to the time of writing, but is not correct within the time frame of the action in the published piece. Or his research may have turned up false information.
Our world changes more in a decade today than it used to change over a hundred years. And I'm not just talking about medicine, computers, and flush toilets. People today live longer, and we're also bigger, stronger, and faster than our ancestors. We can do things they never dreamed of. Consequently, we think differently.
We can get in our car and go to the same store several times a day if we forget something. But during horse-and-buggy days, they had to think more efficiently.
Research is important, and done correctly, will put us on the right path. But nothing takes the place of personal knowledge and experience.
If one is writing a piece about a lawyer trying a case, it is more authentic if the author has experience in court and is familiar with differences in the laws over time. If your story is about the military, it helps to have served and to know about changes in tactics and materiel.
My point is that we are ahead of the game when we write about something we know.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Bio-Fiction


By Alex Raley

From time to time, most of us have been drawn to write a something based on our own experiences. I have often been so tempted. The results are usually disastrous. What you get, one might title “bio-fiction,” which is a beast to handle. I am not talking about a memoir or historical fiction. Those are totally different with their own problems.

Early in my writing I tried a story that I hoped would become a novel. I was actually writing my own history. As I wrote, facts were pouring onto the page. Conflict was nonexistent and there was no story line to guide the reader, just a series of events. “Boring” does not begin to describe the results. Fortunately, the effort never saw the light of day. In moving everything from an old to a new computer the bio-fiction piece flew into space to await an alien to decipher it. Even with her three eyes, she will not find anything there.

Sometimes a real event does click, but you do need a thought line that gives substance to your writing. My wife and I sat in the garden reading the morning paper. My wife said, “Look at that little creature.” There was something smaller than a midge moving across the paper. I took that situation and wrote a poem in which I posed a series of thoughts that interested me. The poem won an award. Who would think that a small creature could become a poem?

Bio-fiction should not be confused with non-fiction which usually is a well-organized telling of an interesting event or an essay in which personal thoughts are presented and developed. I like to read essays by good writers, because you can learn so much about writing, Essays need the same intensity of focus found in good fiction. Good essays are highly organized and have the climax of good fiction.

When my son and his wife had their first child (an adorable girl), I chose to write a non-fiction piece to remind him of many things I wanted him to hear once more. All the events in the piece are true, but they are organized to lead to the final paragraph (not unlike fiction). I began by opening a box in the garage which had been there since he was nineteen. All the items in the box led to an expansion of the story. That piece was published in a literary journal.

At the beginning of this blog I related how poorly my early writing dealt with personal stuff. I even coined a word to describe those efforts, “bio-fiction.” I still have massive failures writing stories from personal experiences, but sometimes I seem to be successful. How does that happen? I read. So much can be learned from reading.

Read. Help stamp out bio-fiction.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Playing Tennis with the Net Down


By Bonnie Stanard

Robert Frost was quoted as saying, “Writing in free verse is like playing tennis with the nets down.” I would ask, If you’re playing tennis with the nets down, are you playing tennis?
Free verse is usually defined as verse without meter or rhyme. Most poetry I read today is free verse, whether we classify it by form as narrative, lyric, sonnet, etc.

Take a look at the excerpt below from “Nightclub”, written by former poet laureate Billy Collins and printed without its versification. Is this poetry or prose? 
You are so beautiful and I am a fool to be in love with you is a theme that keeps coming up in songs and poems. There seems to be no room for variation. I have never heard anyone sing I am so beautiful and you are a fool to be in love with me, even though this notion has surely crossed the minds of women and men alike.
Prose poems have enthusiastic defenders. This is a poem that “appears as prose, but reads like poetry,” according to www.poets.org. I’d like to know what reads like poetry means. Prose poems throw out meter and rhyme as well as versification. What meaningful difference is there between prose poems and flash fiction? For poets to stake a claim on prose can only mean the genre is desperate for an audience.

Some poets are staking out territory in music. Poetry on Record, a CD collection, includes several poets reciting to music. I have to wonder when some writer will come out with a CD collection of, not lyric poems, but “song poems” with a trio knocking off a beat in the background.

Poetry slams, defined as performance poetry, have emerged as competitive events. In this case, the success or failure of a poem depends not so much on the merits of the writing as the performer’s ability to entertain. Written representations of these poems convey less in terms of drama or substance. 

Fiction writers rehash characters and plots that have been around since the first written words. They’re able to make prose interesting for the contemporary reader without abandoning the devices that serve the style, things like dialogue, foreshadowing, symbolism, narration, point of view, etc.

Poetry, rather than redefine rhyme and meter, is becoming prose, music, or drama. In the 20th Century, rhyme morphed into assonance/dissonance, and meter went from structured beat/lines such as iambic pentameter to syllabic and blank verse. Why have we abandoned rhyme and meter rather than pioneer revolutionary varieties? Surely there are more avenues to explore. Aren’t there?

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Put More Drama Into Your Writing—Creating Conflict in Your Dialogue


By Chris Mathews


Dialogue in writing can set mood and establish character, but without one essential quality dialogue can also derail any story.  Good dialogue must contain conflict.  Conflict drives drama and conflict drives all good storytelling.  Where conflict is lacking, usually, so is drama.   In the play GARGOYLES, a one-act I published, I mentioned the importance of the two gargoyles using ornate Latin-derived words to establish a medieval quality to their dialogue.  But the characters would have been little more than intrusive onlookers if I had not been able to define a clear relationship between them.  Notice where the first conflict between the two helps to define their relationships, provide humor, and bring the gargoyles into the modern story they are observing:

FIRST GARGOYLE.   Stone silence…

SECOND GARGOYLE.   Mocks mankind’s folly.

FIRST GARGOYLE.   Demons dwell in eaves…

SECOND GARGOYLE.   Caught in granite guffaws…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   We outlast your short time…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   Withstand your orangutan rantings…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   Your humanegomania…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   Your acid haze…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   Corrodes our veins…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   So permit us…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   From our lofty perches…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   To comment…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   To criticize…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   To cajole…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   To view from afar…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   To scrutinize with a looking-glass…
FIRST GARGOYLE.   To provide comic relief…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   Though these humans provide their own quite well.
FIRST GARGOYLE.    We will be their funhouse mirror…
            SECOND GARGOYLE.   Grotesques.
FIRST GARGOYLE.    It takes a grotesque to know a grotesque.
SECOND GARGOYLE.   In bas-relief.
FIRST GARGOYLE.    We entreat you to observe…
SECOND GARGOYLE.    The intolerance…
FIRST GARGOYLE.    The hypocrisy…
SECOND GARGOYLE.    The passion…
FIRST GARGOYLE.    The insidiousness…
SECOND GARGOYLE.    The vainglory…
FIRST GARGOYLE.    The truth-tellers…
SECOND GARGOYLE.   And the liars…
FIRST GARGOYLE.     The dreamers…
SECOND GARGOYLE.    And the quashers of dreams…
FIRST GARGOYLE.    The religious zealots…
SECOND GARGOYLE.    And, of course…
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Of course, what?
SECOND GARGOYLE.    Of course, what what?
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Don’t mimic me!
SECOND GARGOYLE.    You mimicked me!
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Mimicked me, you?
SECOND GARGOYLE.     You me mimicked!
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Enough!
SECOND GARGOYLE.    Of course, what we are about…
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Which is?
SECOND GARGOYLE.    Demons.
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Real?
SECOND GARGOYLE.   Or imagined.
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Either way.
SECOND GARGOYLE.    Shhh!  They’re scheming.
FIRST GARGOYLE.    Dreaming dreams no mortal ever
dared to dream before…

How is the conflict created between the two gargoyles?  I believe it occurs when the Second Gargoyle rants pretentiously, “Of course, what...” [bold italics]. With this hint, she (the Gargoyles in the original production were played by two female actors) may know more than the First Gargoyle sets the two in a tizzy, characterizing the relationship throughout the play and creatings a lot of fun for the audience as they watch their elaborate attempts at one-upmanship.  They pave the way for future conflicts at this moment when they clash, but they also assure the audience that they will entertain. Conflict drives dialogue.  It is immediate. The characters listen intently to each other so they get what they want from each other--an advantage.

               





Sunday, July 15, 2012

First Amendment Blues


By Laura P. Valtorta

Recently I’ve been pondering our American right to free speech, guaranteed by the First Amendment, and how our American outlook makes this difficult to achieve sometimes.

The first time I thought about this, I was showing one or two chapters of my memoir to a writer at the University of South Carolina whose work has been accepted by the literati as worthy of publication. That doesn’t mean he’s a bestseller. His writing is considered worthy.

This fellow read my chapters and told me I had better watch out about writing against certain current beliefs. I should think twice about stating “there is no such thing as race,” for example. That might not be accepted by publishers.

Biologically speaking, my statement is true, and scientists realize this. People have varying shades of skin and different eyes. If humans were actually divided into “races,” we would not be able to have sex and reproduce together. The categorizing of people has resulted in untold evil, but I guess I’d better not anger publishers by stating any unpopular observations.

Also, Americans are not allowed to talk about communism. The subject of communism and who is communist is discussable at any coffee bar in Italy. Communists were American allies during World War II. Italian communists are quick to distinguish themselves from Stalin, but otherwise they’re pretty comfortable talking about their beliefs. They believe in following the law. Most of the Sam’s Club-type stores in Italy are communist cooperatives. You buy a membership and get discounts.

So when did communism become a taboo subject in the United States? Back in the 1950s with Senator McCarthy? It’s just a political party.

I would prefer to live in a county where I can write and say what I believe, as long as it’s non-threatening. If I happen to agree with Governor Haley once in a blue moon, I’d like to be able to say it without getting jumped in a dark alley or threatened by email. Freedom means honesty and elasticity of thought, even when the subject matter is unpopular.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

It Starts With a Good Sentence



By Kimberly Johnson

To borrow a phrase…it starts with a good sentence. That’s what I’m searching for this week. With a keyboard under my fingers, I am pecking out the right words to flush out my professional biography. With the 2012 Conference around the corner, I want a polished biography in hand before I travel to Myrtle Beach in October.
I know there are professional writers out there (I ran into several websites), but I want to put in the sweat equity.
Right now, I am stuck and the can of lemon-flavored Pledge is empty. Yeah, I got a top-notch resume, but I want something to grab the attention of agents such as Regina Brooks, Bernadette Baker-Baughman and Stephen Barr.
The goal of a personal bio is to get noticed in a good way, but my dilemma is how to write one without …um, you know, bragging.
I got some questions. I need some answers. I jumped on the Internet to find them.
Question 1: Who is my target audience? That’s easy: Regina, Bernadette and Stephen.
Question 2: How long is a personal bio? For online posting, it can be longer that one paragraph. For print work, one to two paragraphs is fine. I should write in third person, first person is too informal.
Question 3: What are the particulars to include in the bio? I need to let Regina and other agents know about my hometown, work experiences, awards/achievements and highlight my social media platform (blogs, websites, Twitter handle, Facebook page, Pinterest etc.).
Question 4: How can I grab an agent’s attention? Bernadette reads zillions of bios in a month—how can my bio catch her eye? This is the part where I should grab her with unique tidbits: I love cartoons, just saw Madagascar 3. I collect teapots. And, I don’t eat grits. I can make an impression on her with my paralegal experiences and newspaper reporter background.
Question 5: Where can I get some tips? I found seven tips to build a better bio from the University of Massachusetts career services blog. The blog suggests including a mission statement or a vision statement in my bio. It seems like a good approach to introduce the reader to my raison d’etre of writing. (http://umassalumni.com/career-blog).
Well, I have a lot more questions and not enough space to list them. So, I’m going to grab my resume, my unique tidbits and begin my draft.
 


Sunday, July 1, 2012

Find Your Magic

 By Leigh Stevenson

We choose to write in a way that speaks to us. Fantasy, history, memoir, essay, fiction, non-fiction, Twitter, Facebook, Blogs. It doesn’t matter. Whatever the form, what matters to most writers is that our work also speaks to others.

What is that magic thing that makes someone pick up one book and reject another? Follow one Blog and not another? Topic? Genre? Cover Art? Author? You could go crazy trying to figure it out. One thing I have learned after years of research is that opinions on the subject are just that. Everyone has one and everyone has advice. If you choose, you can read every blog, book and article on the topic and still be utterly confused.

What I have learned for sure is there are no rules. Aside from a good grammar check and edit you can pretty much throw out every other have-to. For every supposed “rule” there is someone who has broken that rule and been published.

You could just stop. It would be a lot easier. Or you could decide to get on with it and make your own rules as you go. Sure it’s hard. You can immobilize yourself with the immensity of the challenge and trying to figure out the “tricks of the trade”. Being a writer is hard enough without trying to second guess what will sell in the marketplace.

Along with the joy of writing, I have found that a large part of the creative process is a lot like running into a wall again and again. Then there’s the slogging through the quicksand of rewrites and editing and more rewrites. Not that much fun. We persevere, even so.

The best I know is to check your grammar, find a good, honest, knowledgeable writing partner and/or writing group and try to enjoy the process.

And then, once in a great while, there is a moment when everything comes together. The words are right and the sentences flow and you say to yourself, “I can’t believe I actually wrote that”. You find your own magic, not someone else’s version of it.


Thursday, June 21, 2012

A Tome, Extensive Research and a Good Story


By Alex Raley


Big books were the norm in college and graduate school.  I also read such books for pleasure, but as I moved forward in time I found tomes rarely held my attention.


Recently a friend passed on to me a novel of 847 single-spaced pages. How could I tell him that I don’t read tomes? I kept it for six months without opening the cover. Then in January, 2012, I realized that I was 80 years old. To read the book might take the rest of my life. I knew I’d better get on with it.


I found myself buried in a page-turner: Stephen King’s 11/22/63. Why was this book gripping my mind? On the surface, the novel did not appear to be worth 847 pages, but an analysis of how King kept my attention began to turn up some answers:
·        The novel has a theme that is always present, though, its pinnacle is close to the end of the novel.
·        There are several subplots that are interesting in their own way. King weaves them into the overall story and theme.
·        The characters in all the plots are skillfully drawn.
·        Details flow as easily as the dialogue. In fact, most of the story and details are moved forward by dialogue.
·        The novel takes an almost overworked time-space-travel idea and makes it a great tool to address King’s philosophical stance.
·        Yes, King is philosophical here. He poses the question of whether we should tamper with destiny, even if this were possible. He takes his main character back in time-travel several times before he takes a firm philosophical position, which piles on more intrigue for the reader.
·        The work is based on an amazing amount of research. So much research that one has to forgive an occasional mishap. King can afford a research assistant, but he also visited many of the sites himself.
·        11/22/63 has plenty of gory actions to please all King lovers. For those who don’t like gore, the final trip back in time erases most of the blood and guts. You are left with only a memory of the gore.


We have all been surfeited with how-to workshops, but I found that a reading and analysis of King’s novel gave me examples to hang my hat on. This was not someone telling me what to do but my own examination of a successful author’s work. I tried the same examination on the work of a little known author. I easily could see why he is little known.


The next time you are tempted to pay for a how-to seminar, try reading and analyzing the work of a good author. It’s cheaper, and you might even be entertained while you are being informed. 

Monday, June 11, 2012

I've No Idea if There Are Devils in Your Details, But Dollars to Donuts, There Be Money in Your Minutiae!

By Shaun McCoy

If there's one thing I'm not, it's detail oriented. When dealing with my car keys and anniversaries I'm as clueless as a cage fighter in Bed Bath and Beyond. You could even say I hate the small stuff. As a writer, however, I love them details. A good detail makes a scene or character as real as New Jersey. A bad one slows down the story, confuses the reader, and degrades your work. But how can we tell the difference between the good minutiae and the bad?

A Mundane Detail is a Good Detail

I never would have guessed this one on my own. I had to be shown this by superior writers. I once read a scene where a character tossed her car keys onto the counter. The reality of that moment frightened me.  Why did none of my scenes pop into life like that? I told myself that it was because I wrote Science Fiction and Fantasy. Those kind of details just aren't found in my genre, I thought.

I can be dense at times.

The things people do and see every day are the best details. You only really need one, maybe two, to make a scene count. You want me to know something about a surfer? You could tell me about his blond hair, bronzed skin, and glistening muscular torso all day, and it wouldn't mean diddly. But if you tell me what kind of wax he uses on his board, all of a sudden I know the guy. 

This is true no matter what the genre. In fact, the more outlandish the thing you are describing, the more amazingly powerful the minutiae become.

What is a description of the magnificent wings of the dragon when compared with the vibrations of its heartbeats that you can feel through the cave floor? How real is the piercing gaze of the Medusa? Not very. But if you tell me about her mood when her hair molts you'll find you've got my attention. You want a swordsman to come to life? Tell me about what kind of leather grip he puts on his sword. 

How could I best know a golfer? What brand of clubs does he use? Does he have an idiosyncratic preference for a 9 iron in an odd situation? By all means, tell me about the long hair on the guitarist. You almost have to. But tell me also about the color of his favorite pick, or the callous on his thumb as you shake his hand. 

One or two of these mundane hits should be all you need. Our imagination will do the rest.

A Sensory Detail is a Good Detail

Human beings have five senses, don't forget 'em. Very few things come to life like the description of getting smacked across the side of the face with a freshly baked blueberry muffin. If you're reading a scene, and you find that it's too abstract, pick a sense that you missed and throw it in there. You may be amazed by what comes out.

A Detail that Meets Expectations is a Good Detail

When wandering about the universe in which we inhabit, we have become accustomed to being able to gather certain information. If this information is lacking, the realism of the scene suffers. I for one, couldn't give two durns about whether the main character's dog is a Border Collie or a Pit Bull, Labrador mix. I'm not a dog person. But a ton of people are, so you bet your buttons that if I have to mention a dog in a story I call up a friend of mine to ask what breed of dog they own.

I've run into this problem in my current project with guns. In addition to guns, cars, bicycles and musical instruments also need extra exposition. If the thing has a cult following, you better make sure you give it its due.

Conclusion

Minutiae are wonderful for your story, but they can also weigh your narrative down into the dark bog of the non-published. They're kind of like salt. A little makes a bland meal lovely. A lot gives you high blood pressure. Flavor as appropriate!

Now where did I leave my car keys…???