I'm afraid to say that this is one of those "pimp yourself" posts that I hate so much. I've been putting it off for several weeks, but the time for its relevance will soon have passed, and I feel it must be done. Writers, after all, must do their own PR, no matter how much they loathe the task.
So.
I wanted to give you all, my dear friends on the World Wide Web, a few quick announcements pertaining to the book I recently decided to shove into the proverbial Drawer, titled BEAUTIFUL MONSTER. The first, and most important one is this:
As if determined to spite me for banishing it to the Drawer, the novel has recently advanced to the semi-finals of Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Contest. You can visit its page by clicking this link, and if you're really feeling generous, you can read the excerpt and leave me a wee review.
Second, Ana Mardoll, a dear reviewer who unearthed my book in this same contest last year, interviewed me a few weeks ago about BEAUTIFUL on her blog. You can read that interview by clicking here.
And third, I have recently made BEAUTIFUL available for online download if anyone should wish to read it in full. You can investigate that possibility here.
Whoosh. Okay, now I'm done with that stuff. Time to pimp someone else.
My dear friends at YARN (The Young Adult Review Network) received some exciting news yesterday. They have been selected as recipients of the Innovations in Reading Prize, given by the National Book Foundation (yes, the same people who give the National Book Awards), which is a TRULY big deal, and so awesome for a publication as wonderful as they are. If you've never visited their website, please go now and check out all the great things they're doing. I can assure you that they are on the brink of a remarkable career. (Here is their post about winning the award.)
And finally, a question for you that is totally irrelevant: Since April showers bring May flowers (and pilgrims, yeah), and we are at last into May, what is your favorite May flower? If you could have a bouquet or a pot of one flower right now, what would it be?
This one's mine:
Showing posts with label seasons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seasons. Show all posts
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Some (Cool) Annoucements
Labels:
Beautiful Monster,
Ephemeral,
Gardening,
publishing,
seasons,
spring,
Ways I Am Awkward,
YA
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Raise a Glass to Turnings of the Season
[ATTENTION: This post has almost nothing at all to do with writing. I know. It's weird. I sometimes forget I have ordinary human things in my life, too. But hang in there, and don't judge me too fiercely. I'll go back to being strictly writerly in my next post.]
Oklahoma doesn't get blizzards. Ever.
Except lately.
The last week and a half have felt remarkably like living in the Arctic tundra, or in Narnia, or maybe on a wintry frontier. We had eighteen inches of snow with the first bout last Monday, then an additional four or five inches a few days later, and then today, about four more. This would not be a big deal if we were (like so many other places who had blizzards) a city who knew what to do with snow, but as it happens, Oklahoma is decidedly unprepared for any accumulation beyond two inches. The consequence? Most everyone I know has spent the last eight days caved up in their houses like bears, or hiking cross-country in full Eskimo gear, desperate for some social contact--or just bread and milk.
I've spent the larger part of those eight days working on my WIP (50,000 words! There's an allusion to writing, guys!) or exploring the frontier with my canine friend Ophelia, who turns into an arctic wolf in the snow. Here's proof:
Even if you hate cold weather with all the molecules of your being (like me), it's hard to resist a dog who has this much fun outside. But I'll be one glad little sparrow when Spring arrives.
And speaking of Spring...
I went to see the Decemberists play in Kansas City on Monday. It was unequivocally brilliant (of course), and their new album, The King is Dead--rather more subtle than some of their others--comes at an appropriate time, as one of its primary themes is the changing of the seasons. The first song on the album makes me itch for spring so badly I am tempted to march out into the waist-deep snow on my balcony and start planting petunias.
The lyrics are as follows:
Here we come to a turning of the season
Witness to the arc towards the sun
A neighbor's blessed burden within reason
Becomes a burden borne of all and one
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yolk fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
And this I swear to all
A monument to build beneath the arbors
Upon a plinth that towers t'wards the trees
Let every vessel pitching hard to starboard
Lay its head on summer's freckled knees*
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yolk fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
And this I swear to all
A there a wreath of trillium and ivy
Laid upon the body of a boy
Lazy will the loam come from its hiding
And return this quiet searcher to the soil
So raise a glass to turnings of the season
And watch it as it arcs towards the sun
And you must bear your neighbor's burden within reason
And your labors will be born when all is done
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yolk fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
And this I swear to all
(*My favorite couplet)
I'm going to go ahead and raise my glass to a turning of the seasons. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to move out into the sun again, and watch the world grow. Here's to spring... and to leaves on the trees and blossoms on the Jane Magnolias.
Bonus feature: Here's a video I snagged at the concert. If you're a Decemberists fan, you'll like it. I promise.
Oklahoma doesn't get blizzards. Ever.
Except lately.
The last week and a half have felt remarkably like living in the Arctic tundra, or in Narnia, or maybe on a wintry frontier. We had eighteen inches of snow with the first bout last Monday, then an additional four or five inches a few days later, and then today, about four more. This would not be a big deal if we were (like so many other places who had blizzards) a city who knew what to do with snow, but as it happens, Oklahoma is decidedly unprepared for any accumulation beyond two inches. The consequence? Most everyone I know has spent the last eight days caved up in their houses like bears, or hiking cross-country in full Eskimo gear, desperate for some social contact--or just bread and milk.
I've spent the larger part of those eight days working on my WIP (50,000 words! There's an allusion to writing, guys!) or exploring the frontier with my canine friend Ophelia, who turns into an arctic wolf in the snow. Here's proof:
Even if you hate cold weather with all the molecules of your being (like me), it's hard to resist a dog who has this much fun outside. But I'll be one glad little sparrow when Spring arrives.
And speaking of Spring...
I went to see the Decemberists play in Kansas City on Monday. It was unequivocally brilliant (of course), and their new album, The King is Dead--rather more subtle than some of their others--comes at an appropriate time, as one of its primary themes is the changing of the seasons. The first song on the album makes me itch for spring so badly I am tempted to march out into the waist-deep snow on my balcony and start planting petunias.
The lyrics are as follows:
Here we come to a turning of the season
Witness to the arc towards the sun
A neighbor's blessed burden within reason
Becomes a burden borne of all and one
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yolk fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
And this I swear to all
A monument to build beneath the arbors
Upon a plinth that towers t'wards the trees
Let every vessel pitching hard to starboard
Lay its head on summer's freckled knees*
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yolk fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
And this I swear to all
A there a wreath of trillium and ivy
Laid upon the body of a boy
Lazy will the loam come from its hiding
And return this quiet searcher to the soil
So raise a glass to turnings of the season
And watch it as it arcs towards the sun
And you must bear your neighbor's burden within reason
And your labors will be born when all is done
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yolk fall from our shoulders
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
And this I swear to all
(*My favorite couplet)
Here you can listen:
I'm going to go ahead and raise my glass to a turning of the seasons. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to move out into the sun again, and watch the world grow. Here's to spring... and to leaves on the trees and blossoms on the Jane Magnolias.
Bonus feature: Here's a video I snagged at the concert. If you're a Decemberists fan, you'll like it. I promise.
Labels:
i love Colin Meloy,
Inner Weird,
Little Asides,
music,
Ophelia,
seasons,
snow,
spring,
these are a few of my favorite things,
things that are pretty,
things that are ridiculous,
winter
Friday, December 17, 2010
Etsy! Quote Mugs!
We interrupt our regular scheduled programming for a quick and exciting announcement:
I now have an Etsy shop! Click here to visit it!
I've been painting quotes and designs on coffee mugs to sell at various art and craft shows for the last two years, but only this week did I finally decide to join the Etsy community. Of course, my timing was terrible, because we're cutting it awfully close to Christmas with shipping, but all the same... I thought I'd let all you wonderful people know anyway.
Here are a few of the mugs I'm selling:
I'll be posting more throughout December and into the new year, so stay tuned.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all! And best of luck getting all your last-minute shopping done...
I now have an Etsy shop! Click here to visit it!
I've been painting quotes and designs on coffee mugs to sell at various art and craft shows for the last two years, but only this week did I finally decide to join the Etsy community. Of course, my timing was terrible, because we're cutting it awfully close to Christmas with shipping, but all the same... I thought I'd let all you wonderful people know anyway.
Here are a few of the mugs I'm selling:
I'll be posting more throughout December and into the new year, so stay tuned.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all! And best of luck getting all your last-minute shopping done...
Labels:
christmas,
etsy,
Little Asides,
mugs,
seasons,
things that are pretty,
words,
writing
Friday, October 29, 2010
Countdown to NaNoWriMo Day Five: Plot
Well, hello there! Welcome to Friday! As it happens, this is a very special Friday, because it is the last one of October, and it opens the door to the final weekend before NaNoWriMo starts. Are you excited? Yeah, me too.
And speaking of which! If you haven’t been around the last few days, you won’t know that we’ve been brushing up on our novel-writing craft this week, with a little help from the workshop notes I brought home from Chautauqua, NY this past July. If you’d like to read the posts from Monday (Creativity & Inspiration), Tuesday (Writing Novels for Young Adults), Wednesday (POV Character), and Thursday (Characterization), feel free to click on the links and join in those discussions as well.
Today’s notes are from a workshop called “Plot: Its Making and Breaking” by editor and publisher Stephen Roxburgh. Mr. Roxburgh had some great advice to share—and I’ll actually be recapping another of his workshops on Sunday to propel us into NaNo World. Enjoy!
- The difference between Story and Plot is summed up in these two sentences: “The cat sat on the mat” vs. “The cat sat on the dog’s mat.” Story talks about a sequence of actions, while plot adds a WHY and makes it all cohere.
- (From ON POETICS by Aristotle) A story must have a beginning, a middle, and an end:
- Beginning: that which nothing needs to precede, and which something must follow.
- Middle: that which something needs to precede, and which something must follow.
- End: that which something must precede, but nothing needs follow.
- Necessity is the crucial element here. It binds the whole formula together.
- Every story starts with an imbalance, or an injustice. The end is inevitable. You will never know the beginning of a story until you know the end. Learn to not fret about the beginning, until you reach the end.
- Most novels have between ten and twelve major scenes, which click together. Often the pieces are out of order, need to be put together.
- You can never see your work objectively—which is exactly how editors and agents will see it. You’ve got to stop seeing your book the way you wrote it. Think of it in these structural terms, and that will help you to step outside it. You need to see the whole arc of the story to see how the little things work within it.
THREE KINDS OF PLOT:
- Plot of Character: Protagonist who starts in one state, and changes. At the end of the plot, there has been a fundamental change of character. In YA, it is usually a character moving from innocence to experience. It is also what most YA novels are. Often start with a character who is in some way immature; there is some imbalance. At the end, the character is somehow reconciled or redeemed.
- Plot of Action: What changes is not the character; it’s the circumstances. It’s about the fate, the fates or surroundings that change. James Bond and Indiana Jones: you are always watching how the character gets out of his scrapes. Picaresque novels. Don Quixote. Charlotte’s Web. “Romance” is Robert Louis Stevenson’s word for plot of action. A reader hunts after incident like a pig after truffles. The first thing you have to do in a book is to kill off the parents. If you don’t lose the parents, how are the kids ever going to do anything?
- Plot of Thought: It isn’t the thought of the character that changes, it’s the thought of the reader. Essentially political communication or nonfiction. Another word for Plot of Thought is didacticism—intentionally teaching something through the work.
EACH story/MS is essentially one or the other. But they’ve all got bits of the others in them. Action always seems to trump character in reader interest. Plot if thought displays the urge to tell rather than show: which shows a lack of confidence in both yourself and your reader—because you don’t believe your story can convey it on its own.
But the competing influence between character and action has to not kill each other off. They have to work together. Remember that necessity has to drive your plot.
You have to step WAY away from your book and determine whether it is a plot of character or of action? What is my central plot? Where is my MC at the end? And is that different from where he was at the beginning?
Modes of Representation:
1.) As it is: Mimetic, an imitation of life.
2.) Better than it is: the Disney version of life. The Utopian vision. (Nowhere.)
3.) Present things as worse than they are. Dystopia.
Most YA novels are Mimetic. Even fantasy can be mimetic. People can identify with it. Prior to the 70s, literature for kids tended to be strictly Utopian. The YA novel, when it officially came along, started to represent the realities of adolescence. But there’s a fine line between representing reality and showing a reality that utterly and wholly sucks. The thing is to be intentional, to be deliberate, no matter what you are doing.
- The most important question you can ask yourself is: How do you want the reader to feel right now? The challenge of literature isn’t to affect your reader, but to affect them precisely as you wish.
- Manipulate their feelings deliberately, incrementally.
- The ending has to be inevitable. Necessary.
Authors tend not to cut themselves any slack. They try to do them all at once.
Several ways to gain perspective:
- Put the MS away for a few months/years.
- Work on something else
- Give it to a trusted reader
- Try to think about your book with some distance.
(Photo Source: http://amscoextra.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html)
Any thoughts?
And a random question because I'm curious: How many of you write with a clear intent of craft inside your head the whole time? In other words, are you able to write--actually WRITE, not edit--with clearheaded motives and editorial goals, or does some other part of you take over like a vehicle driving itself and keep you from being intentional until you're either away from the MS or approaching it with a red pen?
Just curious. I'm the unmanned vehicle, in case you couldn't tell.
Labels:
Chautauqua,
craft,
gold nuggets,
inspiration,
NaNoWriMo,
seasons,
technique,
writing
Monday, October 11, 2010
Sometimes Gypsies Wear Motley
VAGABOND SONG
by William Bliss Carman
THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry 5
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her, 10
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry 5
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her, 10
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
Since it is October, I think it's high time for an ode to gypsies. In my life I have wanted to be a gypsy more than anything else, except possibly a writer--or a mermaid. Gypsies have all the fun, as you can see.
If you are a gypsy, you can do things that ordinary people only dream about. For example:
- You can keep a monkey as a pet.
- You can wear long, swirly skirts and lots of bangles.
- You can dance in public to a banjo and a fiddle and a tambourine.
- You can have your own horse.
- You can eat your meals around a campfire while laughing and singing with all your friends and family.
- Your clothes can clash horrifically, and no one will judge you.
- You can go barefoot all the time.
- Your hair can be in snarls, and people will think it's pretty.
- And best of all... you can live in one of these wagons, (also called Vardos):
(link)
(link)
(link)
(link)
(link)
For more photos like these, you can visit this flickr link, and become drunk on love for gypsy life.
The more I think about this fascination, the more I see how it has trickled down from childhood and affected my life now. The way I dress, the way I write, the way I hope. My character is as influenced by the things I loved as a child as it is by the things I love today. Sometimes I think I haven't grown up much at all, I've only piled knowledge and experience onto my childhood self. That underneath this mask of twenty-something, ambitious, mature (ha!) young woman, I'm actually just a little girl who loves gypsies and mermaids and puppies.
Your turn! What has been alluring to you all your life? The adventurous gypsy life? The cutthroat high seas? The fairy tale world of castles and knights and princesses? Have those tastes carried over into your adult life and continued to shape the person you are today?
If you could spend a month living any other kind of life, what would it be?
Labels:
Autumn,
being a kid,
gypsies,
Motley Monday,
seasons,
these are a few of my favorite things,
you being you
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Look in Thy Heart and Write
A few quick things.
1.) It is September! I don't love fall as much as spring on principle (winter inevitably follows fall, and I hate winter), but I have to admit that I'm giddy with the approach of autumn this year. Crisp weather. Apple pastries. Pumpkins. Jazz music. Tea. Mmmm. So let's celebrate September!
2.) I've got some serious tunnel-vision at the moment--due to my own self-enforced revision deadline--but I wanted to break out of it for a moment to share a quote that has endlessly inspired me over the years.
I don't know what you're up to today, or this week, or this freshly-minted September, but if you're working on anything that isn't slipping onto the page as easily as an oily fish, I hope you'll take Sidney's Muse's advice. Today, tomorrow, whenever you find time to work on that little chunk of your soul that you've translated into words and plunked line by line onto the page, I hope you'll look in thy heart and write. Because that is, of course, where the best of our work comes from. It's so obvious, and yet so easy to forget.
Happy Thursday, dear Reader, and Happy September!
1.) It is September! I don't love fall as much as spring on principle (winter inevitably follows fall, and I hate winter), but I have to admit that I'm giddy with the approach of autumn this year. Crisp weather. Apple pastries. Pumpkins. Jazz music. Tea. Mmmm. So let's celebrate September!
2.) I've got some serious tunnel-vision at the moment--due to my own self-enforced revision deadline--but I wanted to break out of it for a moment to share a quote that has endlessly inspired me over the years.
"Biting my trewand pen,
beating myself for spite,
'Fool,' said my Muse to me,
'Look in thy heart and write!'"
-Sir Philip SidneyI don't know what you're up to today, or this week, or this freshly-minted September, but if you're working on anything that isn't slipping onto the page as easily as an oily fish, I hope you'll take Sidney's Muse's advice. Today, tomorrow, whenever you find time to work on that little chunk of your soul that you've translated into words and plunked line by line onto the page, I hope you'll look in thy heart and write. Because that is, of course, where the best of our work comes from. It's so obvious, and yet so easy to forget.
Happy Thursday, dear Reader, and Happy September!
Labels:
Autumn,
inspiration,
Little Asides,
Muse,
quotes,
seasons,
writing
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