First, the good news! Apprentice Shop Books has released the latest book in the "America's Notable Women" series, this one written by The Write Sisters: Women of the Constitution State: 25 Connecticut Women You Should Know.
The variety of women found in this latest book of biographical profiles is amazing. There are nurses, dancers, astronomers, politicians, writers, judges, and more! You won't want to miss it!
Now, for the not-so-good news. After 712 posts, The Write Sisters have decided that we've reached the end of this great adventure known as blogging. We started fitfully back in 2007, hit our stride in 2008, and have had 5 strong years. Alas, life gets in the way. Interests and goals change. We get older. The continuation of our blog no longer fits for us.
We will keep the blog accessible, so that new writers can browse through our helpful "Mentor Monday" posts. If you're interested in strong women, there's our "Women of Wednesday" posts to mine. If you're a friend of poetry, "Poetry Friday" offerings will remain to delight you with words.
Looking for something particular? Simply use the search box at the top left of the screen, or the blog search box on the right-hand side.
It's been fun! We wish you all the best of luck in your writing, and lots of love in your life. But, for now...
Monday, February 11, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Poetry Friday--"Snowflake"
It's nearly Valentine's Day, a supersnowstorm is heading our way, and I've found the perfect poem!
SnowflakeDidn't I tell you? It's a lesson in science, it's a lesson in love, it's a lesson in hope. It's happiness! How have I never read this before? If you've never come across it, I hope it delights you as much as it has me.
by William Baer
Timing's everything. The vapor rises
high in the sky, tossing to and fro,
then freezes, suddenly, and crystallizes
into a perfect flake of miraculous snow.
For countless miles, drifting east above
the world, whirling about in a swirling free-
for-all, appearing aimless, just like love,
but sensing, seeking out, its destiny.
Falling to where the two young skaters stand,
hand in hand, then flips and dips and whips
itself about to ever-so-gently land,
a miracle, across her unkissed lips:
as he blocks the wind raging from the south,
leaning forward to kiss her lovely mouth.
You'll find the Poetry Friday Round-Up taking place at A Teaching Life. Please stop by.
Photo by nutmeg66.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Re-imagining Revision
Maybe you have hit a wall. "Revision" in your
writing has turned into a series of minor word changes and sentence
alterations. You don't feel as if you are really
revising. You’re simply marking time, waiting for some new thought, some new
way to express your ideas. How to break
out of this funk?
One my go-to solutions at this point is an old book. Revision by Kit Reed was published in
1991 but I still find it useful. It was written for the fiction writer. I'm usually
stuck in a mess of non-fiction or creative non-fiction. Will any of Reed's
techniques be able to help the non-fiction writer, you ask? I do feel somewhat like a trespasser, a
person visiting a church I don't attend. If I sit in a foreign pew and stare at
someone else’s' altar, will God still hear me?
If I read a book about revising fiction,
will it help me out of my non-fiction slump?
I can say that it does.
Kit Reed is ready for doubters like me: "Even attitudes
need revision," she says almost immediately. (p. 4) I have been clinging to the idea that I lack
the ability to go any further with my stories. I read this sentence in Reed's
book and sheepishly recognize that part of my so-called slump concerning this
latest round of rewrites might be a result, not of ability, but the other "A" word: attitude.
Revision, Reed points out, ". . . closes the distance
between you and your audience." (p.10)
So, revision is not about what the writer wants to say as much as what
the writer wants the reader to know. Have I been going about this all
wrong? I was writing a series of
chapters relating the historic development of forensic science. The first story
tells of Paul Revere who identified the war-torn body of a friend from the
false teeth Revere had made for him. As I was writing my Paul Revere story,
members of my critique group kept saying: "We just want to know about the
teeth." I got so caught up in Paul
Revere the silversmith, Paul Revere the father of eight children, Paul Revere the
Revolutionary, that I included all of those things when I should have been
focusing on Paul Revere the maker of false teeth. Kit Reed encourages the
revising writer to stop thinking about the story at a certain point and
focus on the receiver of the story.
My critique group was giving me the same advice.
Reed divides revision into two basic types: 1) draft
writing, draft revision; and 2) block construction (or revising as you go).
(pp. 29 - 32) Draft revisers write the
complete story before beginning revisions. They may make large organizational
changes between one draft and the next.
Block constructionists work on one sentence until it is perfect then
move to the next. They work on one paragraph until it is perfect and so on.
I am a draft writer. I need a beginning, middle, and end
before I can make any changes. I admire people who can work from an outline or
write the last chapter before they write the first, but I'm not one of those
people. I start each story with a vague idea of what I hope to accomplish, who
my characters are and, if I'm lucky, something of a plot. Even a work of non-fiction needs this basic
plan.
After several revisions, however, when the story seems
"cooked,” Reed reminds us that there is still more to do:
“No matter which method
we choose, sooner or later we come up against that moment when we have written
"the end" and discover we still need to consider one more reading,
for that third major kind of revision: revision to strengthen structure and
story.
This relates to an important
point. There are things you have to do
even after you think you are finished." (p.38)
One of the great mysteries of my writing life is why, after
I've spent so much time researching, reading, thinking, and preparing to write
a story, I can't just skip all the junk and go immediately to a perfect
piece. Kit Reed tells me I'm not alone.
As frustrating as it sometimes becomes, revision is part of the package. She
suggests three ways to tell whether a piece is really done: 1) by reading the
works of others and comparing what you've written. 2) by putting the work aside
and giving yourself distance from it. 3) by allowing outside readers (critique
groups, friends, even editors) to judge whether the piece continues to need
work.
I have done all of these things with past work and the truth
is, they are all helpful. Unfortunately, the answer I really wish for (Someday you'll get it down perfectly in one
try!) doesn't exist.
Reed does provide me with an alternative: a series of
step-by-step questions to ask myself as I rework my latest story. The author
means her book to guide fiction writers. Will her suggestions help me over the
wall I've hit with my non-fiction pieces?
Some do:
Am I saying what I mean?
Are my word choices working for or against me? What about sentence variety? Do I sound like me or the last writer I read?
Is my opening interesting? Does my story
really begin here? Have I added enough
(or too much) detail?
I rethink the beginning to my piece on Zachary Taylor. I had
started with the day he became ill. Does my story really start there? My book is about forensic science. Why is
Zachary Taylor even interesting to a forensic scientist? This story must begin with his death and the
reasons it was considered mysterious enough to warrant forensic research. I
want to grab my audience, too. So I start on the day Taylor died:
"July 9, 1850. The news spread
quickly: the President of the United States was dead. Many, many people were
glad to hear it."
This opening feels better. I have set the time of the story,
the character, and a statement that just might make my reader want to know
more.
As I begin to write a piece on Jesse James, I keep Reed's
question in mind: Am I saying what I mean?
I mean to tell a story about
forensic science so how do I turn an outlaw's story into a story of
science? I must start this story not at
Jesse's death, but at the point his death becomes a forensic mystery. I begin
the story sixty-six years after Jesse's death, when an elderly man claims that
he really is Jesse James. I feel as if I'm beginning to get to the
"teeth" of all my stories.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Poetry Friday--Solitude
There's a short opening stanza of a poem by Galway Kinnell titled "There Are Things I Tell to No One," it goes:
Here are some other snippets from poets on the subject of solitude:
Patricia Neubauer:
Jack Myers:
Mary Oliver:
Walt Whitman:
--Diane
Photo by bendus.
1I find that stanza touching, and I can relate well. We all need solitude every once in a while.
There are things I tell to no one.
Those close to me might think
I was sad, and try to comfort me, or become sad themselves.
At such times I go off alone, in silence, as if listening for God.
In Galway Kinnell: Selected Poems (Houghton Mifflin, 1982)
Here are some other snippets from poets on the subject of solitude:
Patricia Neubauer:
down the hillpath
fallen leaves follow me
into the shadows
In Dreams Wander On, ed. by Robert Epstein (Modern English Tanka Press, 2011)
Jack Myers:
from "100%"
I'm great, 100%, when I'm left alone
and I don't have anything to do
or have to be anything for anyone,
and no one is measuring just how little
or maladjusted I've become.
In Blindsided (David R. Godine, 1993)
Mary Oliver:
from "One or Two Things"
3
The god of dirt
came up to me many times and said
so many wise and delectable things, I lay
on the grass listening
to his dog voice,
crow voice,
frog voice; now,
he said, and now,
and never once mentioned forever,
In Dream Work (Atlantic Monthly Press, 1986)
Walt Whitman:
"A Clear Midnight"Please visit Teaching Authors for today's Poetry Friday Round-Up.
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the
wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day
erased, the
lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing,
pondering the
themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
In Leaves of Grass
--Diane
Photo by bendus.
Monday, January 28, 2013
It's All About The Story
Have
you ever put down a book after reading it and asked yourself, “How did this
ever get published? And where was the
editor?” Have you ever said, “I write so
much better than this. My dog writes
better than this.” Have you ever
wondered how these books, and these authors get published, while you’re sitting
there with a technical masterpiece that no one shows the slightest interest in? If that’s the case, you may want to look over
your masterpiece one more time with an eye not
on the writing, but on the story.
Most readers,
adult or children, do not read books because they can’t get enough of wonderful
metaphors. Those who do are probably
picking up literary novels, not commercial best-sellers.
Most
people read for story. They want to be
able to fall into the life of someone doing something exciting, or different,
something they would probably love to do themselves, but never will. People who read romance are in it for the
romance. People who read historicals
want to be brought to another place and time.
People who read horror want to be scared. And people who read adventures want the
adventure. Your job as a writer is to give
them what they want, in whatever genre you choose to write in.
So what
is your story about? Is it something new
and exciting, or is it the same old stuff writers have been writing about for
ages? If it is the same old stuff, have you given it an original and exciting
twist, something that makes it stand out from the rest? Does it contain tension and suspense? Is there conflict, a reason to keep turning
the pages? Do you make your reader feel
what the main character feels?
Look at
the success of the Eragon and Twilight series.
Neither is particularly well written, but each writer told a story that
worked for millions of readers.
Millions, not thousands.
Eragon
was a hero’s story, a boy goes on a quest.
It’s been done a million times.
Why was Paolini’s such a big success?
Because everybody dreams of being a hero, everyone wants to win, and he
gave them that opportunity in the pages of his books. And there is something about dragons that
appeals to so many. But the biggie, I
think, is because he followed a formula that so many best sellers seem to have
- the chase, the escape, then rest, think, regroup. The chase, the escape, more rest, rethinking,
and regrouping.
Paolini’s
characters do this continuously throughout the story until the climax. It’s Tolkien’s formula in Lord of the Rings. It’s the formula used in so many suspense
thrillers. The tension and suspense
never let up, and the conflict continually grows bigger and bigger.
Was it
a conscious decision of Paolini’s, or had he simply learned it through osmosis
while reading others? I don’t know. But it’s there, and it works. For millions.
Constant action, constant movement, and always a new problem. The reader has to turn the page because
they’re involved in the story, and they don’t care if Paolini used lay instead
of lie, or if his infinitives are split.
Meyer
also used an old story that’s been done a million times – boy meets girl – a
typical romance. But she gave it a great
twist. The boy her heroine falls in love
with is a vampire. And she didn’t stop
there. She didn’t make her vampire a
typical vampire. She reinvented the
vampire to suit her story.
So, how
many teenage girls are there who don’t love a romance? And how many romance readers, teen and adult,
are there in this great big world of ours?
Enough to keep Harlequin in business for years and years and years. And how many of them are going – A romance
with a vampire? That’s different. I
gotta check that out.
Then
there are the horror readers. A vampire
falling in love with a human? And a love
triangle between a human, vampire and werewolf?
I gotta see what that’s all about.
And let’s
not forget the paranormal readers, who like to delve into the lives or vampires
and werewolves and anything else unexplainable.
Meyer gave readers something they hadn’t seen before, something that
appealed to a broad range of people - people who bought the book on just the promise of a story, and once they
started reading, they didn’t care about her overuse of adverbs and bad dialogue
tags.
Now
this isn’t to say you should just write your story and forget about the quality
of the writing. I believe Paolini and
Meyers were writing to the best of their abilities at the time they wrote their
books. It seems evident when reading the
sequels, where the writing gets progressively better. The point is it really is all about the story. If
no one is interested in what you have to say, the fact that you say it in a
lovely way doesn’t matter. Put a very
well-written, okay story on an editor’s desk, along with a badly written but
fantastic story, and I think an editor will choose the better story every time,
regardless of the writing, because the writing can always be made better, and
it can be done easily. It takes far more
work to make a dull story exciting.
So
what’s the lesson here? Well, there are
several.
Even if
you’re a beginning writer, if you have a great story to tell, you can get
published.
If
you’ve been writing for a number of years, and your writing skills are pretty
good, but you still can’t seem to sell anything, perhaps you should reconsider
what you’re writing about.
And when
you do write that great story that everyone wants to read, take the time to
rewrite it as well as you can because, if a great story, badly written, can
sell a million copies, imagine how many copies a great story, wonderfully
written, will sell.
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