Reading Now:

What I'm reading right now:

Callie's Rules by Naomi F. Zucker (Egmont 2009).



Obernewtyn by Isobelle Carmody





The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing by M.T. Anderson.

NaNoWriMo etc.

I write this from the wonderful Tempurpedic in our Nest's spare room. The heating pad is on, the muscle relaxers are in, and wonderful Nestmate is downstairs, having taken the day off, looking after Chickling who, we've just discovered, has H1N1. This Momma Bird is not a worrier by nature, but it's been a tweetin' crazy week, let me tell ya.

Lots of time for catching up on the blogs however. I love this one. Great suggestions and it's got me wondering. Are you doing NaNoWriMo?

I'm not, but not because I wouldn't like to. Perhaps next year. If you are doing it, I'm interested to hear what tools you're using to find time, write, focus, become inspired, and so forth.

Have you discovered this wonderful writing tool called Write or Die? After using it for one day, I paid the $10 for the desktop version. It's just what I needed. I've written more in three 20 minute sessions (and not all of it complete guff!) than I have in weeks.

One of the first things I teach in my writing classes at *Art School of Note* is using different triggers for Stream of Consciousness writing. I think it may make for an interesting post at a later date.

Music works well for me. I like the Atonement soundtrack (and others by composer Dario Marianelli), Radiohead (and instrumental versions of their songs such as pianist Christopher O'Reilly's moody and glorious tributes), and a piece by New Age musician Deuter called Alchemy which I put on repeat and write to for hours.

What about you? Is it music (and what kind)? Do you use positive affirmations? Do you do morning pages? Have a safe zone? Other triggers, tricks, or treats?

Countdown

Only three months now until my new three book MG series is out. Yay!

Haven't been here much lately due to a car accident (blah, youch) and week long visit from wonderful YA Fantasy Author, Isobelle Carmody. How heavenly it was to walk along the beach together talking books, writing, and publishing day after day.

I'm inspired to finish my current MG novel... just as soon as I get this whiplash seen to...

Back soon.

Note to Self

Write the book that's asking to be written.

I wrote that on a piece of paper and stuck it on my pinboard long months ago for a reason. Sometimes I just need to remind myself.

Flightless

I’m the first to admit that, on some days, a writer can feel a bit self-pitying. I think we probably all really understand that without me going into it too deeply. And besides, I see little point in dwelling on the bad bits of this journey:

• A certain rejection that, even though (like everyone) you’ve had hundreds of them, really does sting because you admired that editor’s work so much and would have loved to work with her.

• The gut-wrenching sickness when, after reading your first three chapters and requesting your full MS, she then sent you an unsigned form rejection.

• The genuine joy and lingering envy (not jealousy) when someone you know gets that agent, that real publishing deal.

• The spiraling frustration that you’re not even close to achieving the level of art and craft you aspire to, let alone commercial success or a decent paycheck.

What is the point in wallowing?

There’s none. There’s no point in even feeling frustrated about all the ideas pilling up, or the complete lack of them, about a lack of time, or a churning black hole lack of plot. ALL grown-ups with responsibilities lack time. And ALL grown-ups get blocked in some area of their lives.

So, I’m taking the advice I always drum into my writing class at Art School of Distinction. I have slipped away to the coffee shop, right now, and I’m going to write. Because I feel like it right now, that’s why. Even though the sink is full of dishes and the email overflowing. Because I’m fairly confident that ten minutes from now, I’ll have no doubt I’m doing exactly what I’m meant to do. I’ll be flying—maybe in fits and starts—but I’ll be flying.

This just in...

I've read two great blogs posts in the wee small hours:

Editor Alvina Ling discusses what her different kinds of rejection letters really mean here.

And Edittorrent lists some more of the things that scream “Amateur!” to an editor.

Enjoy.

I’m snowed under with manuscripts at the moment, but I’ll be back.

Cheep-cheep!
WB

Bad Seeds: Looking and Turning

I never cease to be truly grateful for what I’ve learned about writing from editing other people’s work. But when one reads other people’s manuscripts all day, every day, one starts to notice the same sorts of things over and over and over… and after a time (usually a fairly short time), these things go from being notable and interesting to being downright annoying. Now don’t think I’m becoming complaining and snarky—it is my my job and I love every day of it. If I didn’t love it, I’d hardly be taking the time to share this with you, would I?

But I do believe these are just the kinds of things that don’t belong in a MS. Wordy Bird calls them Bad Seeds. I thought you might find it helpful if I share some Bad Seeds with you every now and then. Because once you’ve really tasted a Bad Seed, rolled it around in your beak and spat out the husk, you may not want to try one again.

Bad Seed #1: Turning and Looking

Imagine Nestmate and I are having a conversation. I might write about it like this:

Wordy Bird kissed Chickling goodnight and flew down the stairs to tidy up the living room. She turned to Nestmate. “Matey,” she said, looking at him, “I note you haven’t done the dishes.”

Nestmate turned and looked at her. “I rinsed them for you,” he said. “Geez, I thought you’d think that was helpful.”

Wordy Bird looked at him. “Nestmate, rinsing the dishes and lining them up so I can wash them, is the kind of help one gives when one wants to appear as if one’s being helpful, but when one’s real intention is to watch the Patriots.”

Don’t you think all this turning and looking is implied? When we have a conversation, we usually face the person and look at them when we speak to them. In regular dialogue, turning and looking is implied. It’s when a character DOESNT turn and look at someone during conversation that it becomes interesting and therefore noteworthy.

For example:

Nestmate watched Tom Brady score another touchdown. “You’re always nagging me,” he muttered.

Wordy Bird studied her toes. “Not always,” she said quietly. She turned and looked at the teetering pile of dishes. “Now are you going to help me, or what?”

The bottom line is this, and it’s about much more than looking and turning: readers, even readers who happen to be small people, do not need to have everything spelled out for them. Not only can it be boring and tedious, it doesn’t leave room for the reader to read between the lines, to fill in the gaps, to imagine.