Awesome Oregon YA Author Panel

Last night my critique group partner Marla and I had the privilege of seeing a panel of five popular YA authors. The price of admission? Being an Oregonian. Yup, here in the great Northwest we have an enormously talented and supportive children’s writing community. Heck, we have a great writing community in general. But before you pack up your bags and head this way, remember that it rains here all the time. Every. Single. Day. We never see the sun.* Better just stay where you are and form your own writing community. But I digress.

The author panel consisted of Lisa Madigan (Flash Burnout), Lisa Schroeder (Chasing Brooklyn), Laini Taylor (Lips Touch), April Henry (Torched), and Christine Fletcher (Ten Cents a Dance). What a line up! They spoke of many aspects of their journey as writers, but in the interest of time, I’ll only share the two topics I found most interesting.

From left to right: Christine Fletcher, April Henry, Laini Taylor, Lisa Schroeder, and Lisa Madigan

As talented as these authors are, you might think the words just fly unfettered from their fingertips. Not so. Each has her slow days, and her own approach to navigating the traffic jam. When Lisa M gets stuck she works on a more interesting scene that comes later in the book. Lisa S pushes through the hard parts, knowing things will get better eventually. Laini opens a second document, which feels “secret” from her characters and everyone else. A place where she can play with ideas and not have to worry about how silly they seem. April Henry works on another book all together (Laini calls these Slutty New Ideas or Newts—New Weird Things). Christine Fletcher talks about chasing the dragon, meaning that she’s compelled to keep writing through the difficult parts to achieve that elusive rush of a perfect writing day.

I’m with Lisa S and Chris on this I can’t allow myself to “cheat” by writing something out of order, and frankly, I’m too intensely courted by my current characters to flirt with those Slutty New Ideas. I see the not-so-fun-parts of the book as something I simply need to get through, and the exciting, emotional parts as my reward for doing so—my “weekend” after days of drudgery. One problem with writing out of sequence is that things change. I might discover something new in a low-key scene that affects the later scene. If I fall to the temptation of writing the fun stuff first, it might mean more revision later. One point that the authors agreed on was that while some scenes are less exciting to write than others, if a scene is truly boring to you it will probably bore the reader as well. Maybe it’s not necessary to the story.

The authors also addressed their writing process. To outline or not to outline? Lisa M calls it plotting or plunging. She considers herself a plunger, someone who uses the need to find out what happens next as fuel for her writing engine. Lisa S also plunges. Laini said that she initially dives in, but her order-loving brain won’t allow her to do it for long, then she has to work things out so she knows where the story is going. For April, it depends on what kind of book she’s writing. With mysteries it’s important for the author to know who the killer is, but with thrillers, she can get away with ambling along, waiting for the writing process to determine the story. Christine is compelled by the draw of the unknown. She’s said on other occasions that if she knew what was going to happen next in the story, she’d lose the passion to write it. Those of you who know me can predict where I weigh in on this. I’m a dedicated plotter. I hate having to cut scenes, so I reduce the need by making sure I don’t write unnecessary ones to begin with.

One thing several authors pointed out is that it’s those unexpected twists and discoveries that make the “plunging” approach so rewarding. As a fan of outlining, let me set the record straight. You get those moments when you plot, too. In my WIP I can recall two such moments off the top of my head. For example, I knew from my outline that Race and Jess would bond over a welding project (no pun intended) but I didn’t realize why until I wrote that chapter. Race’s life, compromised by a traumatic brain injury, makes him the perfect person to understand how Jess’s childhood has been altered by growing up with an alcoholic mother. They’ve both had to accept a version of “normal” that isn’t like anyone else’s. The idea makes so much sense in hindsight (another thing the authors noted about these discoveries) but it was the process of writing that allowed it to fully bloom.

The biggest danger of outlining is that it can compromise the story’s natural flow. But only if you let it. You have to know when things aren’t working and let go of the reins. Which brings me to my second example, a scene in which Jess’s boyfriend Cody was scheduled to give her hell for keeping a secret from him. But when I put the characters together, Cody had other ideas, giving her his support and understanding instead. And I let him. I’ve found that if you try to force these things, the story stalls. The characters (or maybe our subconsciouses) know intuitively where the plot needs to go.

So how about you? What trick do you use to get yourself unstuck when your story stalls? Are you a plunger or a plotter? Which of these awesome authors has a writing process that’s most like your own?

*Okay, maybe not every day, but we do average only 1953 hours of sunlight hours each year compared to the 3897 you’d get in Phoenix.

A Time for Looking Back

Years ago, when I was contemplating a cross-country move to pursue my dream of stock car racing, a wise friend gave me this piece of advice, “don’t ever look back.” What he meant was, once you make a decision, don’t second-guess it. Don’t waste your time over “what-ifs”. Own your choice, and follow it through. And that’s very good advice. But there are times when it’s good to look back.

Earlier this week I found myself slipping into a funk. Getting up each morning had become increasingly more difficult, because I’d lost faith in my current project. Or maybe I never had it to begin with. My WIP is a sequel to a book I haven’t sold, a book that may well be too far out of the mainstream to make it in this difficult market. So every day, I’d been feeling guilty for squandering my time. But worse than that, I just hadn’t been able to connect with the story. I didn’t care about the characters or the tragedies that were about to befall them. I felt like every word I wrote was drivel, my prose filled with that insidious “was” and too sentimental to ever make it in the edgy world of YA fiction. The only reason I kept with it was that I didn’t know what else to do with myself. The new book idea I’d come up with hadn’t yet ripened enough to harvest.

Then I read a couple of chapters to my husband, something I do to catch typos and places where the prose isn’t smooth. I use him as a guinea pig because reading out loud to myself or the cats is boring, and I like to be able to ask for feedback, even though Bob’s comments rarely go beyond, “yeah, works for me.” The chapters I read were some I’d written in mid-December, long enough ago that they weren’t fresh in my head. And the amazing thing was, I liked them. Sure, there were some rough spots—it is a first draft—but there were also plenty of great metaphors, snappy bits of dialog, and realistic emotions. I even earned a, “well, you really embarrassed the hell out of Jess,” (the protagonist) from my normally monosyllabic husband. This simple, accidental exercise renewed my faith in the book, and for the first time since I started writing it, I felt a real bond with my characters. Since then, I’ve been tackling chapters like the Energizer bunny on an espresso bender.

The lesson in all this is that sometimes we tend to look at what we have left to accomplish, the long hike ahead that seems way too difficult to tackle. We don’t give ourselves credit for the miles behind us, the obstacles surmounted and difficulties overcome. In a world where productivity equals respect, we tend to focus on that next goal, rather than patting ourselves on the back for the last success.

The next time you find yourself overwhelmed, faithless, and buried by what you haven’t yet mastered, take a peek over your shoulder. You may be amazed to see how many miles are behind you, and how many people are watching, marveling over what you’ve accomplished.

Platform and the Tao of Pruning

Last Sunday I pruned a customer’s wisteria. It’s a good time of year for it. The leaves have fallen, so it’s easy to see what you’re doing. Wisterias are beautiful vines that often bloom more than once a year. This particular plant produced almost continuous flowers last summer, from late May through September. The blooms, which hang in long, grape-like clusters, produce a heavenly fragrance. But like anything, wisterias have their darker side: They grow like Jack’s beanstalk on steroids. In a single year they can produce 10 foot whips as big around as a man’s thumb. If they aren’t pruned regularly they’ll overwhelm a fence or trellis in a few years. They become so heavy that they can collapse porches. Though wisterias are one of the most magnificent vines you’ll find, they need constant maintenance.

Photo by nlamore

Social networking is the wisteria of a writer’s life. The community connection, emotional support, and marketing potential bewitch us like the lovely scent of this flowering vine. But after we’ve planted things such as Twitter, Facebook, and blogging within our schedules, we tend to get distracted and forget how easily they can take over our lives. Last year, all the buzz was about building an internet presence, but with the beginning of 2010, talk has turned to the need to do a little online pruning. Even folks like platform expert Christina Katz and literary agent Nathan Bransford have addressed the issue, stressing the need to concentrate on what you’re best at and forget the rest. Sort of the wei wu wei of brand building.

The problem with getting caught up in the huge time suck that calls itself social networking is that it distracts us from the reason we need a platform to begin with—the writing itself. So when you find yourself becoming overwhelmed, pull out your pruners and take a good look at the overgrown mess. Write down all your online commitments. List the pros and cons of each. More importantly, note which things come easiest for you, and which you derive the most pleasure from. Take a snip here and there to bring the monster back under control. Then you can enjoy the enchanting flowers and fragrance without getting strangled by the vines.

The Tao of Creativity

As I peruse blogs and read other people’s books, I struggle daily with a list of shoulds. I should strike every “was” and adverb from my prose. I should add a bunch of controversial subject matter to my stories. I should enter every writing contest that I can. I should build a huge web presence. I should come up with some brilliant ploy to drive rush-hour volume traffic to my blog.

Or should I? Let’s face it—my voice wants to come out more conversational than literary. Edginess is not something that feels natural to my stories, and I don’t think my target audience would like it. I’m not a contest person; words don’t immediately drip from my fingers. In fact, for me, initial ideas are the hardest part of being creative. I am not a daily blogger. Marketing doesn’t come as naturally to me as breathing, the way it does for Shelli Johannes-Wells, and I haven’t been blindsided by any genius inspirations, like Casey McCormick’s Agent Spotlight.

I don’t think I can change these things. Not easily. And the fact is, I shouldn’t. While the writing process takes dedication and hard work, it should also be organic to who you are. If you’re doing what you’re meant to be doing, the creativity will flow. The work won’t seem like work, because your passion and talent will carry you. All these people who I envy and admire aren’t finding their success because they’re trying to be something they’re not. They’re finding it because they’re following their true nature.

The philosophy of Taoism has a name for this: Wei wu wei, “doing without doing”. If you can’t wrap your mind around that, think of water, which is soft and weak, yet can wear away stone. A second concept goes hand in hand with this: P’u, the Uncarved Block. P’u, is a person’s natural state, their innate self, free of prejudices and misconceptions. The idea is that things are most perfect in this state. When you put these concepts together you come up with the following philosophy: By being true to ourselves, rather than striving to be something we’re not, things will come with less effort, and we will be happier.

A lot of envy and self-doubt comes with writing. Not just for the un-published crowd, but for established, award-winning authors. These feelings are a fallacy. A time sink that robs our creativity and distracts us from our work.  We all have our unique strengths, and that’s how it should be. Don’t allow yourself to be distracted from your path by the glitter of someone else’s gifts. Your own are just as dazzling.

Snow Day

Portland was hit with a freak snowstorm yesterday. Well…sort of freak. There was cold air and there was moisture. You’d think the meteorologists could follow a basic recipe and pull the same forecast out of the oven as the local weather geeks, but I think their high tech equipment befuddled them. So while they were relying on their computer models, the rest of us were looking at the thermometer and the Doppler radar and wishing the snow would hurry up and start falling. In the end, the “brief isolated patches of freezing rain” turned into 3 ¼ inches of snow smack in the middle of rush hour. Two of my friends were scared witless having to drive home in it, and my husband Bob endured a 3-hour commute (which would normally have been a 10 minute drive). Meanwhile my inner 10-year-old was turning cartwheels.

How often do you see blue over Portland on the Doppler radar?

I wanted to be able to enjoy the snow, so I left my writer’s nook above the garage in favor of the tiny laptop desk I built last year, which sits in the master bathroom and generally serves as a perch for my other laptop. The furry one. This bathroom is on the second floor and has a 4 x 5 window that overlooks my rather extensive garden, so I was able to watch the snow falling as I worked.  In my office I’d have to be satisfied with an opaque skylight.

To fully enjoy the experience, I listened to the Barenaked Ladies Christmas album. My friends Roxie and Susan have assured me that Christmas itself  is only the first twelve days, and that it’s perfectly acceptable to listen to holiday music through January 5th. The sky slowly went blue and then purple as snow cloaked the trees, embroidering them into an icy tapestry. It got so dark that I couldn’t see the keyboard, but I didn’t want to turn on the light and ruin the magic.

The view out my window

Bob called twice to give me a report on where he was and when he was likely to make it home. He was supposed to cook fish for dinner, and I thought about doing it for him. Then I let myself off the hook by rationalizing that both his ETAs had proved about as accurate as the local weather forecast, so I really didn’t know when to expect him. Instead, I decided to take a walk. I took my recorder along to capture any thoughts I might have for the new scene I was working on then spent the next 40 minutes enjoying colored lights reflecting off the snow and surveying the neighborhood for the obligatory crop of snowmen that sprout up every time Portland gets the slightest sprinkling.

Bob was home when I returned, starting a fire in our new woodstove. It was 7:45 and he didn’t feel like cooking the fish, so I threw a frozen pizza in the oven (the gourmet kind, not one of those cheap Totino’s things that taste like cardboard soaked in catsup). We watched the end of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off as we ate dinner in our newly remodeled front room with the fire warming us and charming our noses with the rich scent of wood smoke.

My friends and hundreds of other commuters had a miserable time last night, and I hope everyone got home safely. But I had a great evening. And I am counting my blessings.

T-minus 2. Where’s the Pause Button?

Here it is, the 23^rd of December, Christmas rushing down on us like a jet plane coming in for a landing. No turning back now, folks!

I figured something out when I was a still a little kid. Presents were cool and all that, but the minute they were opened, the magic was over. It was the anticipation of Christmas that did it for me. The idea that people everywhere were on the same page, participating in something that was a little whimsical, a little kid-like. That’s a cool thing when you’re a child, getting a peek of grown-ups reverting to a younger, less practical self.

Every year, I’m more and more reluctant for Christmas day to arrive. I just don’t want to let go of that extra layer of happiness that covers everything going on in December. Yeah, I’m having a great time with my friends…and it’s Christmas. Sure, I had a good writing day…and it’s Christmas. Woo hoo, I got everything crossed off my to-do list…and it’s Christmas!

The season isn’t long enough for me. I don’t know how much more of it I want, maybe a week or two. Just enough that I’m ready for the next thing on the calendar.

This year we got ripped off, due to the way Thanksgiving plays musical chairs with the end of November. The Christmas season can begin as early as November 22^nd or as late as the 28^th. This year it was the 26^th, which means we lost four potential days of the season. Does that mean I can keep celebrating until the 29^th?

Actually, I have a better plan. In the book I’m working on, it’s the Christmas season. Many people recommend that a writer submerge herself in an environment that helps her connect with her story. Creating a soundtrack to play while writing is one key element. So I’m giving myself permission this year to keep on listening to all those holiday favorites. Hey, it’s in the name of literary progress, right?

Nighthawk Alarm Services in Carver - west end of display

Center of display

East end of display

I’ve Been Elfed

I couldn’t find a decent photo of my husband, so I substituted an alpaca. Shhhh! Don’t tell him!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Pre-Christmas Letdown

I have a confession to make. I already have post-Christmas letdown. How lame is that? Yeah, it’s only the 21^st. We have 4 days of Christmas left. But each time I hear a Christmas carol, I wonder if this is the last time for the season.  Every spare moment is spent listening to these songs, because I just can’t bear the idea of going 11 whole months before hearing Jimmy Buffett sing Christmas Island again.

Right now I have the perfect combination, gray soggy weather outside, Christmas tree flickering cheerfully, Bing and Burl on the stereo, and a pile of presents on the floor (complete with kitties in the wrapping paper).

What do you mean we aren't helping?

Things have not been going as smoothly as I’d like with my WIP. I took a couple of days off last week to bake Christmas cookies and somehow I lost my momentum. I’m getting a few words down, but it’s a stumbling, awkward process. I’ll put the characters together in a scene, knowing I have to get them from point A to point B, but not having a clue as to how to get around the bottomless pit in the middle. I’ll stare at the screen, check my email, get up to put on another Christmas CD, check the Doppler radar, then stare at the screen some more. Occasionally a character will say something, and I realize, there’s my way in. If I could only get those moments to happen more frequently.

Ah, well. I guess it’s time to go elf myself. Happy holidays!

Wildly Wet and Wonderful

What a deliciously drippy day. It’s rained 1.38 inches here in Milwaukie since yesterday afternoon, and from the Doppler radar it doesn’t look like it’s in any hurry to quit. Perfect writing weather. In fact, yesterday I cracked that 2000 word-a-day barrier for the first time since I started my current project. It’s a ridiculous goal, I’ve discovered, because I tend to do a lot of editing as I write. And a lot of staring blankly at the screen. I’ve reevaluated what my daily progress should be, but it was nice to make the goal at least once.

This image originated on KGW News Channel 8 Doppler radar

Normally, I’m not one to use word count as a target, but I’ve been having a lot of anxiety over this project and my ability to string words together, so I needed some concrete proof that I’m making progress. It’s not the total words that are important so much as alleviating the fear that I’ve “lost it.” I take comfort in knowing that many of the writers I’ve talked to struggle with this same anxiety.

Last night, to further fuel my creativity, I took a walk in this lovely, gray December rain. It felt so good after that alien mix of clear skies and highs in the 20s we had last week. There’s something soothing about being wrapped up in a soggy Oregon nimbostratus hug. I had to laugh when a good Samaritan pulled up beside me in her SUV. “Would you like a ride?“ she asked. I guess she couldn’t conceive of the possibility that somebody might actually choose to walk in this drizzle.

How about you folks? Do you enjoy a good soaker, or are you a hold-out for blue skies no matter what time of year it is? What’s your favorite “writing weather”?

No Battery Required for this Laptop

We have a new kitty. Back in May, my husband, Bob, had to have his faithful old cat Domino put down. Domino was about as laid back as a cat could be, loved tummy rubs, and had a purr like the roar of a thousand seas. Infinitely loyal, he was a great “starter” cat for a life-long dog person. Domino liked me, but he adored his daddy.

About a month after he died, we decided that we should get another cat because my 89-year-old mother-in-law, who lives with us, needed a companion. She lost her Scotty dog three years ago. Margaret has a real soft spot for animals and will do anything to avoid hurting their feelings. When Domino would exert his cat-itude by lying in the middle of the newspaper, Margaret meekly read around him until he went away to attend to more important cat business. Since she stopped driving this year and doesn’t get out much, we thought she needed someone to keep her company during the day. So we went to Paws no-kill shelter in West Linn. After looking over all the kitties, who were named for celebrities, we chose a little long-haired calico who had been given a lot to live up to when they dubbed her Michelle Obama. (Note to Paws shelter:  I don’t think the real Michelle Obama is a biter. Though Barack might have a different opinion on that.)

It's amazing what accessories you can get from Chico's these days

We re-named her Laptop, hoping to give her a hint. When we got her home we discovered she liked to hide. The second day she hid so well that 10 hours passed before we found her huddled under the entertainment center. Eventually she grew to trust and now she’s an extremely sociable cat, but she still loves to crawl into and under things. Some days she opens and closes the lower kitchen cupboards just for fun. She doesn’t go inside, I guess she’s just making sure the pots and pans aren’t having a catnip party without her.

Laptop likes her window seat

The day they made Laptop, the personality machine must’ve been stuck on full throttle. Not only does she do the typical tail-on-fire rampages through the house (spinning out on the recently uncovered hardwood floors) but she’ll also play with anything. Last summer I caught her tossing a recently-harvested carrot around the kitchen.

On another occasion she entertained herself by batting around imaginary toys. And most recently, the Christmas decorations have been her favorites. Now tell me, how does a cat figure out that window clings are something that can be removed? They’re completely flat. Laptop came up the stairs with one in her mouth the other morning, giving that guttural moan that warned us not to mess with Frosty, her prey.

Have cat, will travel

I’ve never had a cat as vocal as Laptop. She has an extensive repertoire of meows, coos, purrs, and grunts. Every time I walk in the house she comes running to greet me, chattering out a stream of meows as if she’s telling me all about her day.

Another habit she has is tail flipping. Most cats express themselves with their tails, but the odd thing about Laptop is she uses hers the way squirrels do when they communicate with each other. That little flip in a backward direction, as opposed to a normal cat “swish”. I swear she does it just to give me attitude. When she’s annoyed she’ll turn around and give me that “talk to the tail” gesture.

Laptop has many hobbies, but her all time favorite is watching the toilet flush. She never tires of this game. Every time she hears it she comes tearing along, plants her front feet on the seat and peers inside. It’s like prime time for felines.

Bob and I have a tradition of making our own Christmas cards, which feature our cats. This year we decided that Ms. Personality needed to be on them. I figured I’d have to go through the usual hassle of trying to get her to cooperate while I posed her in various cute positions. Instead, she volunteered herself by climbing the Christmas tree as I was decorating it. Miracle of miracle, my camera was nearby. So, for those of you not on my card list, here’s a virtual holiday greeting for you.

Going out on a limb to wish you season's greetings