Jamie Cat Callan: When the Going Gets Rough

Here's a Thanksgiving treat that won't put on a pound and could lift the weight from your literary shoulders now and again! We promise not to tease you any longer about any guest starting this week, and yes, we are posting her a day early so you can enjoy and ponder her response as you hit the road or the kitchen.

Jamie Cat Callan is a writer and writing teacher extraordinaire. Her work has appeared in The New York Times Modern Love column, to The Missouri Review, to UCLA Magazine. Awards include the PEN Syndicated Fiction Award, the Goldwyn Award in Screenwriting, two First Prizes in the Writers Digest Fiction Competition, a Bread Loaf Writing Conference Fellowship, and several residencies. Her March 2009 release entitled French Women Don't Sleep Alone: Pleasurable Secrets to Finding Love will be her second book on love and romance; she is author of the YA novel Just Too Cool, and she is spending time in Los Angeles these days researching a novel based on adventures she had as a script girl for Meg Ryan.

We invited Jamie to take a question of interest to all writers, whether on our first, fifth or fiftieth manuscript, because in Jamie's spare time she is the author of The Writers Toolbox: Creative Games and Exercises for the "Write" Side of Your Brain, and has taught this right-brain approach not only at Boston's Grub Street, but at Yale University, Wesleyan University, NYU, UCLA, to name a few.

Q: I'm facing a terrible writer's block. Threads head into dead ends I can't get out of and characters don't act or speak the way they should, no matter what I do to force them back toward my outline (which seemed right when I started). What tactics can you suggest to keep things flowing and get back on track?

A) I believe each individual writer possesses a kind of gold--an individual voice and style that is so unique, no one else can replicate it. Sometimes it's hidden in that deep place within that is bound up in love and tears and confusion and joy and secrets. As a writing instructor, I see it as my job to help you find that core--that heart center--where good, strong writing flows. To do this, I use "right brain" technique. I bring games and laughter and even a kind of creative irrationality into the classroom, so that you feel safe to take risks and to jump into that deep pool--where you will find your own gold--your own truth. So when the going gets rough:

1. Leave off the writing each day at a place where you'll be excited to go back. Don't completely "scratch that itch," so that you'll have something to look forward to the next day.

2. Throw scraps of interesting sentences, pictures and even discarded passages from other work in a box next to your desk. When you hit a wall, reach into the box and just go with whatever you get. Use the power of the right side of your brain, that part that's intuitive, nonlinear and slightly wacky, kind of like your third cousin--the one with the sequin eyeglasses and the bright red beehive. It's the opposite of the left brain--that's the more analytical and critical part--perhaps your mother's voice in your head asking you what makes you think you could be a writer.

3. Go for a walk. Actually, Dorothea Brande in her landmark writing book "Becoming a Writer" suggests that any rhymic, repetitive, nonverbal activity will get the juices flowing. When I worked for Meg Ryan and someone asked me to xerox an entire book (a bound book--so it would take hours)--I welcomed it has an opportunity to think and take notes on my own book.

4. Don't ever let the "paint get dry." By that I mean, don't spend too long away from your project. Otherwise, it's harder to re-enter the dream of the narrative.

5. And to continue the metaphor, try "throwing some paint" on the wall. See what sticks. Embrace your wacky-inner-child self. How do I "throw paint on the wall"? First off, I always approach my work as if I'm just going to fool around. I make no demands on myself. If I'm stuck, I like to go out and eavesdrop and use "found dialogue" the way visual artists use found objects to make sculpture. It's amazing how you can get inspired just by standing in line at the CVS prescription line!

6. Hook up with writer friends who will encourage you, give you a deadline, suggest agents, etc. and give you a good boot in the pants, when necessary.

The going is always rough. I think that's just the way it is, and I think that's why we write.

Making a Literary Life Friday: Discoveries

In the spirit of Columbus Day, celebrating Cristoforo Columbo's discovery of a place other people already lived, what have you discovered of late of your own writing, process, or approach to writing that deserves a nod this holiday?

Lisa Marnell
There are two ways to put this. Either, "Trust Yourself", or "Don't let your ADD interfere with your writing." In reading books on writing craft, I rarely hear about the phenomenon of writers completely changing their work, or thinking about changing plot (in a major way) in the final hours. I am so close to the finish line that it must be nerves, or self-doubt, or disbelief.

Amy MacKinnon
I've discovered that before I can became truly immersed in the writing, I must first do most of my research. I need to have that foundation of facts to build a fictious world. Research is one of my absolute favorite parts of the writing process.

Hannah Roveto
I have been reading novels with shifting narrators and viewpoints. Whether I decide to tackle this with the emerging WIP is yet to be determined, but this is definitely a new shore I feel prepared to land upon and explore.

Lynne Griffin
Like a good map, editorial feedback points me in the direction of the story. What I've learned is that only I can take the story the distance. And I still believe revision is a wonderful thing!

_____

A few people of note this week:

Congratulations to friend of the blog, Therese Fowler, on the sale of her next two books. Very impressive!

A huge round of applause to Kim Reid for winning the Colorado Book Award for her debut No Safe Place. What an accomplishment!

And finally, three cheers to faithful blog readers Ello, Holly LeCraw, and Ray Anderson for recently signing with their dream agents. Onward and upward!

My Tiff with Bill (W. Somerset)

by Hannah Roveto

Bill and I are having a bit of a disagreement; Bill, of course, is W. Somerset Maugham, and this tiff has gone on for three days. The whole thing started with The Grub Street Rag, which offers news of the local literary scene and tempting class offerings, and my favorite, a quote of the week. This week they reported our dear friend Bill once said: "There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."

When I first read that, I started to agree; on further thought, I had to argue the point. You see, I have started in on Novel Two, unleashing what has been percolating in my head for some months. At the same time, a neighbor called. She has thought of writing and wants to know how to make the dream real. As a result, I had been giving this Rules of Writing A Novel thing some attention, and I have proposed to Bill three rules I think are undeniable.

Rule Number One: Have a plan. Writing a novel is a journey you need to think through a bit before you head out upon it. Say you live in Boston and something inside you has always wanted to travel the U.S., east to west. You decide you want to end up in L.A. You get maps and you plan for supplies and provisions and clothing and lodging; you mark out routes and alternate routes. A novel requires this, too. Some people get very organized and do outlines. Those people actually end up in L.A. with their manuscripts. Other people plan and yet allow for a bit of a surprise; they end up in Portland, Oregon, which meets the goal equally well.

Rule Number Two: Employ sitzfleisch; strong gluteus maximus muscles put to use to achieve what you want. The rough English translation is stick-to-itiveness. Bill can't deny this one. He wrote his first book at 16. He worked on his second book every night while he was studying for his medical degree. He proof-read Of Human Bondage outside of Dunkirk while working as an ambulance driver during World War II. No matter what else goes on in life, you write. And edit. Every day you touch the work in some way. As on any journey, the more you do it, the easier it gets, because those glutei get stronger with every use.

Rule Number Three: Learn and build on your craft. You have a story in you. Break it down. What do you imagine this story to be like when you are done, and what do you need to do to have the craft to produce that book? Plot, characters, setting and other elements of writing are the supplies you need for your journey. Know what they are, and get them onboard. What is the voice? What the heck is voice? Find out. Read. Take classes. Read again. Write it and rewrite it. Edit, fine-tune as you take more classes and refine again. An artist constantly works on craft. What you wrote yesterday was good, if you put your heart into it. What you write today will be better if you want to make it so. What you write tomorrow will be your best.

What you put in the novel is up to you. How you structure it, the story you wish to tell, the guidelines you wish to follow or learn well enough to break are yours to choose. There, it's wide open territory. Bottom line, though, you can start that journey if you follow three rules, and I've given you my suggestions on those. Meanwhile, Bill hasn't gotten back to me with his thoughts, which makes me a bit nervous. Or should I be more nervous if he does respond?

The Trash-Talking Tournament

Posted by Lisa Marnell


There's a buzz at my tennis club in Westlake Village, California. Enough play-by-the-rules games, where players win a game, a set, a match. It gives all of us too much of a predictable, been there, done that feeling. It time for a change. A breath of fresh air. There's a buzz because we might have a trash-talking tournament.

Huh?


Nothing's definite yet, but it seems it would go something like this: players need to keep the ball in play for at least a couple trips over the net, but the idea is that a good trash-talking player will think of something appropriately rude, distracting to the other player, insulting, such that said player would mess up and lose the point. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?



So, it got me thinking. Wouldn't it be great, great fun to take part in a Wimpy-Writing contest? Just think, when a person enters a traditional writing contest the competition is fierce, preparing one's work is very labor intensive. In a Woosy Writing contest (the name hasn't been finalized yet) there could be many categories for judging: Too many Adjectives, Too many Adverbs, Sorry Dialogue, Flat Narrative, the list goes on. If you're too good at dialogue to win a prize, maybe you can't paint a scene to save your life. See! There's hope for all of us.


I know this idea may never catch on. It could die right here on this page in my sad blog entry. But how fun it would be to win a writing contest. I can barely imagine!

Forget the Numbers

by Hannah Roveto

There are approximately 6.7 billion people in the world, with somewhat more than 4.7 billion of us over the age of 15. The world literacy rate, defined as anyone over the age of 15 who can read and write is estimated at 82%. Allowing for my rough math skills, this gets us some 3.76 billion people who, in theory, could or do read books.

Next, let's look at worldwide book sales. The Bible comes in at about six billion copies, followed closely by quotations from Mao Zedong. Mao was a big seller, folks, followed by the Qur'an and then, interestingly, Charles Dickens, with A Tale of Two Cities at 200 million copies, followed by Lord Baden-Powell with Scouting for Boys. The entire Harry Potter series has sold a mere 400 million books total. Clearly, JK has a lot of sales left to go before every reader out there owns a complete set.

The fact that this is a numbers business is never far from a serious writer's thoughts. Every query explains to a potential agent not simply how wonderful a story is, but how it can be championed in the marketplace. Every agent paints a picture for publishers of the prospects for a particular title, and so on, and so on.

This makes it far too easy to ask when a particular project appears in a writer's head whether to even bother to write it. The subject matter is difficult. A protagonist character is unlikeable. Where is the audience, and will anyone care? We are told to up the stakes on one hand, to add mayhem and fear and create tension, and yet other stories are "untellable," and the ultimate damper, that nobody will buy them.

Garbage. How would you feel about a dwarfish boy who kills his best friend's mother by accident, in a story that delivers commentary on American foreign policy? (John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany). How can there possibly be subjects that are untouchable when there are so many authors already exploring them? Try Jesus' Son by Denis Johnson. Here is a man who feels "most alive while in the presence of another's loss," according to one review. Pick up the lyrical Bel Canto by Ann Patchett or the action adventure bestsellers of Tom Clancy, and between the pages of each you find people compelled by politics, love and honor to do their worst as well as their best. Death, murder, fear, passion, insincerity, longing, hope, honor, familial strife, redemption. It doesn't matter what we write as long as we are true not only to ourselves, but to our craft, to the art of the storytelling as well as the story.

Readers read and will do so as long as writers write well. If you can write a story in a way that carries a reader through, that is conscientious of the reader's needs and pushes at boundaries in such a such a way that the reader is willing to follow, do it. Pull out everything you know, learn what you need to and make that story come alive.

Don't worry about sales, not while you write. Consider only craft and the story. If you start to worry about numbers, then turn them on their pointy little heads. There are more than 3.3 billion people out there who -- in most cases -- have chosen not to own a single copy of Harry Potter, and still they read. Who knows: perhaps they are waiting for a book more like yours.

What it's all about

Posted by Lisa Marnell

As a writers' group we have broken bread together, or more specifically, we've shared many meals; bagels for breakfast and lunches at Grub Street's Muse, dinner at restaurants, dinner at Lynne's. We've dug into tarts, cakes, pies and cookies. We've drunk multiple cups of tea and we've sipped sparkling cider as we've toasted to each other's successes and accomplishiments.

We all managed to get a decent night's sleep when shared a (tiny) hotel room.

When we've car-pooled together, we've managed to find a parking spot for our car in almost-full parking garages in Boston, and we've been able to find said car in said parking spot hours after attending a literary event.

Each of us have shared dreams and disappointments. We've talked about aging parents, loss, and regret.

Over the past four years, we've seen each other's children grow older.

We've problem solved parenting issues; I've benefitted from Lynne's expertise and Amy and Hannah's insights. Yes, we've talked about men and our preferences regarding that subect: big or small, blond or brown-haired, hairy-backed or Olympic-swimmer smooth (we never claimed to be sophisticated).

But of all the experiences we've shared, what I think I love most is reading fresh work from Amy, Hannah, and Lynne, new pages that surprise and entice me. Pages that are e-mailed as attachments are presents wrapped in colorful paper, waiting under a Christmas tree. The creativity of these three women, the places they go, the people they discover (or create) never fail to draw me in.

And Again

by Hannah Roveto

There is something in the air this week. The mysteries behind what drives some people to not simply put thoughts on paper, but to stretch them like taffy, fill in about them like soil around a seedling, spend hours and days and years listening to voices and cutting beautiful phrases in search of a way to communicate something... somehow... have been uppermost in my mind as well. Amy said most poignantly yesterday that her work is driven by a need to "give people comfort in a world of my making," which is the most perfect description indeed for the outcome of her labors.

Why and how we write is how we make sense of the world. I see absurdity everywhere, and the sharp edge intrigues me. The devoted mother known for lobbying on expensive school programs, who drives around town in her SUV, on her cellphone, at speeds in excess of posted signs along roads where other children walk. The new resident who talks loudly about how excited he is at moving to a small town, yet he puts up a fence and hedge that walls him away from the community he seeks. There are layers to these people I find compelling, in whom I find elements of the humor I so love.

Tragedy informs my writing, in a different way. Private conversations around the most horrific of experiences make me wonder at the human capacity for strength, at how people get up and live their lives the day after, and the day after that. Yet they do. The spirit is an incredible thing, bruised and torn and damaged and yet loving and laughing and hopeful. I may not write about sorrows -- some I simply cannot -- but the idea of this force of life hovers over me.

In the end, I process the world best through humor. It may seem Pollyanna-ish to some, but I would argue that humor is a protective weapon. I admire writers who take the most vital emotions and experiences and create those moments in which we see a bit of ourselves, and that prompt a smile against all that is rational. Mark Haddon's father in A Spot of Bother thinks he has cancer, has an adulterous wife, and is but one of the characters brought together in the slow progress toward a wedding that creates much discomfort. Nick Hornby's A Long Way Down has those four strangers who decide, independently, to end their lives. How can these stories be funny? They are about unbearable things, written with great sympathy, yet it is how they are written that takes us by surprise, against our will, and -- whether or not the character does -- makes us see possibilities.

This is why I write and how I hope and try to write. Capturing moments in which the odd quirk becomes not only a possible downfall, but also the thing that drives us forward. Naming the fears we hide that show themselves despite our best efforts in ways strangers then cannot possibly undertand. Revealing moments of recognition and against all odds, creating a smile of understanding as to where the hope lies.

Choose to Write

Posted by Lynne Griffin

I love September. It's time for a fresh start. Positive outlooks and enthusiasm abound. Even my teenagers like being set up for success with clean rooms and tidy desks, new notebooks and a handful of good pens.

As a writer intent on revising my second novel, I deserve a new set of goals and an optimistic plan for achieving them, too.

Here's my four point plan for getting back to basics.

Schedule writing time
I write my appointments with writing directly on my calendar, just like every other important meeting I make time for.

Write down specific tasks I want to accomplish this month
I assign realistic target dates for completing chapters or polishing parts of my manuscript.

Feed my brain
My best writing happens when I exercise, eat right, and get seven hours of sleep a night. A sharp mind is critical to my ability to concentrate and work through challenging sections of my novel.

Feed my muse
When I read a short story, some poetry, or excerpts of a favorite novel before writing, it's as if I'm putting out an invitation for inspiration to find me.

So many writers lament there isn't time to write. Truth is, if you buy into that kind of thinking, there won't be. I'm of the mindset that we all have the same twenty-four hours a day to do with what we will. I choose to write.

The Essence of Us

by Hannah Roveto

I didn't know it was Wednesday this morning. Between the holiday weekend and the trips to Staples and Target and signing my name to a thousand papers, between a store grand opening and some national media outreach for my client, and between the pages of the revisions I have been doing between it all, I lost track of the days, as we all do.

Funny, but the post forming in my mind even over the weekend was about rushing, about looking ahead so often that you forget to look around at where you are and what you are doing. Living the moment.

The reason for this kernel of an idea was an article written by the wonderful Kathleen McKenna in a local magazine on some writers' group that has been churning out pages of material for quite a long time, the result of which are books like Tethered, Life Without Summer, and... yes, more to come, we are sure!

To Amy's post last week, many people have approached me to comment on the story, offered their support and best wishes, which has been lovely. Over the weekend we were at the beach, kids swimming to and from the float, when a neighbor with whom I have one of those nice wave-in-passing relationships made it a point to come over specifically to say she'd seen the story. So used to looking ahead am I that I said yes, the group is wonderful, and in a rush of words, explained that I am finishing my revisions (last inning!) and expect to send agent queries this month. (Didn't I once swear I would never make excuses?)

A slow smile came across her face as she said, "You're doing something that is all yours, something just for you all the time. I think that's wonderful."

All my forward-motion, rush-to-what's-next line of thinking came to an abrupt halt. The bustle of the beach, the shouts of the divers off the raft sharpened. I thanked her, and inside thought, hey, it IS cool! The smile didn't come off my face for hours.

Whether or not it's writing, it is important to do something that speaks to your soul, to follow that desire to do... something... to be someone beyond how you are defined in relation to other people. Every stolen minute or every stolen hour (or couple of hours!) with a story is a bit of Being Hannah, and that makes it all the more pleasurable. When I returned to my revisions the next day, I enjoyed them more than I had for weeks. And today is Wednesday, and I am writing now, working some, and writing some more before the door bangs open this afternoon. In the moment. Doing what we love, all for ourselves. What is better than that?

A Writer's Retreat

Posted by Lynne Griffin

I admit I work a lot. Yet to me writing is where work and play come together, it's the definition of being in flow. I don't mind working long hours, I often write six days a week. I have no anxiety around spending an entire day on one paragraph or tossing out a whole chapter in favor of going in a new direction with my work-in-progress. I love the challenge of writing the novel, but I still love a good vacation.

Last week, my family and I took our annual trip to Maine. The house we rent lakeside, in the Sebago region just outside Portland, is magical enough to draw my husband and me away from our career and home responsibilities. More astounding is its ability to coax two teenagers away from friends and technology. It's a just us, no TV, no laptop trip, and it has been for fourteen years.

And while you can take the writer out of her office and away from her computer, you can't take the writing away from the writer. Here's a glimpse inside what I call my writer's retreat.

I've always baked a pie using wild Maine blueberries. This year in honor of Patry Francis, author of The Liar's Diary and her tradition of making a pie for the muse, I made my version of the literary blues pie.

Before

After

Some of us couldn't wait for the after photo to be taken before diving into the pie.











In Portland, ME, in the wonderful independent book shop, Books, Etc... I couldn't resist searching out Tethered. My daughter thought a photo was called for.




Lost in a family game or puzzle, or while sipping a glass of wine from a local vineyard on the dock at sunset, I worked out a structural change in my novel. It was so easy to see things clearly sitting there.



And of course, I read. Thanks to a recommendation from Michael Lowenthal, I've now added another novel to my top ten. Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates is perfection!

I loved The Shack by William P. Young, The Rest of her Life, by Laura Moriarty, and The Unthinkable, by Amanda Ripley, too.

So I'm back now and ready to begin working again in the traditional sense. I still have my memories of the time I spent with the people I hold most dear and I look forward to next year when perhaps I'll walk into Books, Etc... in Portland and find a copy of Life Without Summer on those shelves.

Dreaming

Posted by Lisa Marnell

I was away last week - spending time in BEAUTIFUL! Santa Barbara and beyond, but I'd love to play catch-up with Friday's MLLF question: What's Cool About The Writing Life?

My answer is simple. It's cool to daydream.


Just yesterday, I was walking back from our neighborhood pool, I meandered along a series of walkways that are hidden away by stone fences and pine trees. I was so very alone. It was delightfully relaxing. And yes, of course, I was thinking about my WIP. How could I not be? That ten minute walk was time I gladly share with my characters.

What, I wondered, should be Ava's reaction when she finds out Rose is in danger again?

Just how friendly should I allow my two main characters become?

It's fun - to daydream. It's a lovely perk of being a writer. I get to be a child, to daydream, to fantasize.

Ah, did we choose writing or did writing choose us?

Choices

Posted by Lisa Marnell



I'm happy today.



Late last night I finished a first draft of Frozen Rose, my YA novel. Hurrah! I woke feeling a sense of relief.

Over the past six months, I've changed the plot at least five times. I had figured out characters. I had established a setting that was magical to me. Though it should be hard to delve into mid-winter New Hampshire as I write mid-summer in sunny California, I managed. I'll admit to closing the blinds in my study and turning on the air conditioning a few hot afternoons. Being surrounded in my many photographs of New Hampshire mountains certainly helped as well. No, getting into my novel, wasn't ever a challenge, but knowing what my characters were going to do was hard for me.


Choices. Commitment.

Deciding that a character will follow one route and not another is something I haven't read much about in writing books on craft. But making choices about the direction for my novel has weighed me down for a long time now. I discovered something. It's easier to have a main character kind of lie, kind of cheat, kind of steal, than to decide on one course of action such as, My main character is a compulsive liar, or My protagonist, when challenged will cheat every time.

In Tethered, Amy's recently released novel - I'm still amazed and blown-away proud - she made choices. Some of them were difficult. But those choices were believable, realistic, and, from a writerly point of view, raised the stakes. Her choices made her novel the gripping and emotional story that it is.


In deciding which direction to take with my YA novel, there was one bit of advice, some wise words I copied and taped above my laptop. My mini-poster reads:

Fiction isn't written to make readers happy.

Its purpose is to jangle their nerves,

Make their hearts race,

Give them goosebumps,

and disturb their sleep.

Words to live by, writers!

Oh, I'm pleased.

My Gorgeous Cover

Posted by Lynne Griffin

My thanks go out to Executive Art Director, Michael Storrings for creating the perfect cover for Life Without Summer. And to my team at St. Martin's, please accept my gratitude for taking the time to get the cover just right.

The Hot Seat

Posted by Lisa Marnell

According to Donald Maas …

“If there is one single principal that is central to making any story more powerful, it is simply this: Raise the stakes.”

Donald Maas is a literary agent, president of Donald Maas Literary in NYC. In his book, Writing a Breakout Novel, he goes on to suggest that many writers cannot answer that question of what will happen to the protagonist if he doesn’t reach his goal. Too often, he reports, writers sit dumbfounded; we love our characters and we simply HATE to see bad things happen to them. Not good. Stakes aren’t high enough.

Look at Harry Potter. (Oh, how I loved that series). And think about the stakes, the personal stakes to Harry. Voldemort killed his parents, brutally, and tried to kill Harry as well; he was just a baby! Now, Harry has discovered he is a wizard – how cool is that – and he has this wonderful new life in front of him, away from those dreadful Dursleys. Harry has so much more to fight for now. He has friends now, a muggle-friend no less, Hermione would be first on Voldemort’s list. The stakes are high. Back comes Voldemort into Harry's life.

In his chapter on plot, Donald Maas holds that we, as writers …”must be willing to push characters into situations that you would never go near in your own life.”

I’m afraid I’m too nice, and frankly, I don’t like where I’ve put my protagonist. Chapter 18 gives me a downright icky feeling. But, I tell you, she's staying put! One of our writer’s group members once said something wise. In fact, she’s said many wise things, but one sticks with me and gives me comfort. I paraphrase her words but the gist was this: “It shouldn’t bother us when our characters find themselves in an awful situation because we, as writers, are the ones to help them out of said situation.”

I do love a book with high stakes. So, I’ll keep putting my fiction friends into that mess. I must; I want to write fiction.

Call Me Crazy!

by Hannah Roveto

Consider this quote from this week's Grub Street Rag (worth checking out even if you don't live near Boston for the header quotes and the contest):

"Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.” ~ Meg Chittendon

How many times have you tried to explain what it feels like to write to a non-writer? "The characters tell me what to do." "What did you say? I was in Chicago." (You are sitting in Boston.) "I had my head stuck in the dryer, and it came to me: I needed to kill Aunt Elizabeth."

Okay, so we sound crazy. Why, then, do we get a pass while someone else might be carted off to the psychologist? Because, as is evidenced by the posts Monday and yesterday, we take those far-off lands and those imaginary people and through determination and craft and utter magic, we make them real not just for ourselves, but for others. They can see them, too. Once we release our creations into the world, they are public spaces, public entities. Others will talk about them, wonder about them, maybe take them on as their own (fanfic, anyone?).

Don Juan DeMarco is one of my favorite movies, a somewhat treacly fairy tale brought to life by an amazing cast. Johnny Depp plays a young man who insists on wearing a Zorro costume, explains that he is Don Juan DeMarco, descended from the Don Juan. He wishes to die at the hands of his arch-enemy, and waits atop an L.A. building demanding the man be brought to him. The police bring in psychologist Marlon Brando, a man about to retire, living his everyday life at the office and at home with Faye Dunaway. The young man tells him the story of his life, what has brought him to this point where he waits for death. Is it true? Is he crazy? His world is compelling and yet he wants none of it; is it really part of our world, or not? It is interesting to watch this movie with writers and non-writers alike.

I saw Don Juan over the weekend, was musing about what is real and what is not and the overlap between them the day before the Grub Street Rag above appeared in my inbox. Coincidence? Not if you believe in the Muse, and in voices telling you to keep at it, to keep making things appear out of thin air for the world's amusement.

(On a less philosophic note, it occurs to me that the Writing World does not have a name for Non-Writers, and yes, I am borrowing from J.K. Rowling in this analogy. Or does Muggle work in this case, too? Suggestions?)

Reclaiming the Room of My Own

by Hannah Roveto

Carolyn See's Making A Literary Life is oft-quoted here, far beyond our tribute to her each Friday, for good reason. Her words inspire, demand, coach and make us laugh in recognition. Charming notes, for example, are among her advice. She says to send one every day, which I don't do. I did send one off this very week, though, and two last week.

My favorite chapters depend on what's happening in my life. At the moment, the best one is Chapter Five: Pretend to be a Writer. She asks, "if you were a writer, what would you want (to make you feel like a writer)? Hemingway wanted to spend his life outside the borders of the United States... Richard Ford must have wished for a madly dashing trenchcoat, because I saw him once, at a reception... swathed in a madly dashing trenchcoat." Anne Rice travels with "an endless supply of Tab." And so on.

What I need most to feel like a writer is the very thing counseled by Virginia Woolf. Room. It doesn't necessarily need to be of my own, but it needs to feel like it's my own. What brings me to this is the fact that I am sitting in my office surrounded by papers that sit at waist-level -- my husband's description, not mine -- on the futon pull-out sofa, the table, the chairs and yes, on top of the vacuum cleaner. My chair is filled with children's game CDs and the brush of the vacuum, in fact, so I am perched as I write on its very front edge.

Ten years ago the room had a desk and the futon couch. Then it took on some files. Then another desk, to hold the old computer for the kids to use when we upgraded. We got a cat, and our house is small, so this room is the only one with a door that shuts that is not a bedroom. You get the idea. It was looking like a large walk-in closet with the cat as the final addition.

Yesterday I moved every piece of furniture except the desk before me. I swung the couch to a different corner, the wicker basket in front of it, like a reading area. I put the files in a different corner. I went to Target and bought a bookshelf and a TV cart that will become a printer cart. Today I will put together the cart, I will rearrange this table. I will put the papers where they go or (gasp) throw them out. Tomorrow or Friday a nice man is going to come and take care of my computer and make it not spit system error messages at me every five minutes. By this weekend, folks, I will have a room in my house that holds two working, healthy computers -- mine in a separate, special corner -- and a futon couch and files, but that is airy, better organized, and feels like a creative space instead of a waystation. I will be (more) bumped and bruised and sweaty and tired and very slightly poorer, and far far happier, all because I re-read Carolyn See and took a look around and realized, you know, that's what I really need most.

I don't know what any of you need; maybe it's a certain coffee, a certain pen, the private car with driver that See needed due to physical limitations and began to see as her special requirement. For me, for now, the room is all. My entire mindset will shift, open, widen, relax. I will feel not only like a writer, but like a writer who has a place of her own.

Dimensions

by Hannah Roveto

The surest sign of summer is the clonkety-clonk of large and growing feet around my house. Two voices have joined the cat and I, insisting they are exhausted when asked to do something, and bored beyond belief as soon as I let them rest. One critical detail: we are the only family in town, in New England, in the U.S. and perhaps the world to not have a gaming system.

Not that we aren't considering a system, although not as an immediate option or even a summer addition to our home. Not that the system wouldn't replace limited time on the TV, computer, and DS and come with rules. We haven't made the leap yet, and we are hesitant to do so. We do not see it as anything we really want. "Augh!" They groan, eyeballs spinning. "But why not?"

Because... I want them to live in three dimensions. Instead of playing Guitar Hero, one kid actually plays the guitar and the drums, and the other sings and is thinking about keyboard lessons. Instead addition to watching tightly edited television, one kid makes and edits videos and has done one for a local grocery. Instead of playing Dance Dance Revolution, one kid dances, dances on stage and can play both goalie and kick goals. Because both my kids are a bit obsessive and I worry it will be a battle to keep the primary focus on the 3-D worlds they have found for themselves in that time and space that being bored allows just before you decide what you want -- need, in your soul -- to do with your time.

Then I hear this: "You spend all your free (!) time on the computer." True enough. I spend my time writing, creating new worlds and new beings whom I need to see in three dimensions in order for others to experience them as well. I need to relive long-ago family vacations spent in piney campgrounds, or the feel of a baseball bat in my hands when it connects with the ball, or the summer spent working at a veterinary hospital, the sweet smell of disinfectant and the musk of dog and cat, and the paralyzing tension in the steps of a German Shepherd being brought into a room soon after an old, ill dog was put to sleep. I need to remember how a face crinkled just so with laughter, the precise pitch of a shriek of happiness and not anger, whether a particular person strode or lumbered or sashayed. I need to pull from the 3-D world to build a dream in the 3-D world: a real story, start to finish that may make its way into the real world some day.

I want my children to know how to live in three dimensions and to find their dreams. I want them to be bored, to have space and time to find what they want most in themselves, to nurture it themselves, to live it for themselves. Maybe because I waited so long in my life to dig deep and push my own dreams forward, I am being a bit obsessive myself on this issue. I freely admit this. What's the big deal, right? Maybe it's enough to realize that there is a 2-D and 3-D world at all, and that the rewards of 3-D are richer and fuller. Maybe by living life in 3-D and leading by example, we can all show -- rather than tell -- children in our lives and others as well how to realize their dreams in multiple dimensions, too.

Dancing and Writing

Posted by Lynne Griffin

I started my artistic life off as a dancer. Not a Dancing with the Stars kind of dancer, a So You Think You Can Dance kind of dancer. Lyrical, contemporary, jazz and ballet, with some musical theater on the side.

When I was growing up, dancing and dancers were part of everyday life. Variety shows featured big dance numbers, award shows had them too. Before your wedding you brushed off your dance shoes, perhaps you hadn't danced publicly since elementary and middle school dances, where you were taught ballroom.

Growing up in my small town with pretty traditional parents, I'm grateful that art, music, dance and the written word were so well-respected. Neither artistically inclined, my parents supported my love of dance, and books. As surprised as I am that my artistic expression left the dance floor and found the page, I see parallels in these two art forms.

In every novel, capturing mood is essential to story telling. And while some stories are darker than others, taking you to places you dare not go, changing the way you think about things, so can interpretive dance. Some beautiful novels, like dances, are termed quiet, their message simple and beautiful. A novel can inspire a dance. A dance can tell a story.

There's a connection between art forms, as I see it. I'm thrilled to see renewed enthusiasm for dance in our popular culture. It makes me want to take a class. Or create a character who's at home on the stage.

Who doesn't love being the girl on top of the piano?

by Hannah Roveto

A friend sent me a YouTube video yesterday, you know the kind, that has been mass emailed by people all over the world for months and months. In it was footage of tiny Connie Talbot, who came close to winning Britain's Got Talent last year (Simon Cowell's U.K. TV talent competition). Maybe you've seen it, maybe not. I often delete these things, but then again, I check chain emails claiming to serve some altruistic purpose against urbanlegends.com.

I was moved to tears by Connie. I admit to being in a particularly schmaltzy mood these days, but my thoughts afterward reflected more, I hope, than a bad case of over-sentimentality. Three ideas that have made me smile for the past 24 hours:

One: When someone has real talent, it will be noticed. Some creative people ignore the bubbling sound from within, even for years, as the path it leads to might be (a) impractical, (b) insufficient for bill-paying purposes and/or (c) put one in a position to be critiqued and criticized publicly. If you are known around the gray cubicles or in volunteer subcommittees as "the writer," then everyone is telling you something you need to hear and do something about.

Two: If it comes from a pure place, there is power. You can want something with your whole heart, but you have to want it for the right reasons. To be famous is not a reason. To make money is not a reason. To do it because you love to do it, because you do it in your sleep, because you are miserable when you can't do it, now there's a reason. There is a pure place deep inside you, and if you cultivate it -- the trick to it all -- you will succeed.

Three: Sometimes it is better to be older. A postscript on Connie's story, for anyone feeling equally schmaltzy who links to her performance, is that Cowell's record company came back to the Talbots and told them they believe in the future of this little girl, but that she is too young to launch a real career in the music industry. Kudos to them for having the backbone not to turn a six-year-old into immediate paychecks. There were other companies less ethical, but I hope the Talbots heard the full message and understand that bright lights and applause are frosting on a grindingly hard and brutal industry. Sometimes maturity -- of the artist, not those around her or him -- is truly essential equipment in tackling a dream.

Bottom line: If you want to fly over the rainbow, ask yourself, do you have the wings for it? If yes, then do you have the strength for it, or the willingness to build up that strength? And if yes again, well, get out there and fly. Start low but head high. You don't ever be the one to be stuck on the ground at the end of the day wondering why, then, oh why, didn't I.

Pitches, Pens, and Preferences

Posted by Lynne Griffin

Musing on the posts this week on capturing your story in a pitch, being true to yourself as an artist, and preferred work habits, I saw a theme, a common thread. Everything comes down to a matter of taste.

You can write the snazziest pitch ever, but if one of the main characters is a ghost, a cowboy, or a dog, I probably won't be stepping up to the register to plunk down my debit card for a hardcover. Now I'm not saying there's anything wrong with ghosts, cowboys or dogs, I'm just not that into them, so I rarely choose to read stories about them.

I enjoyed reading Amy's post about Alicia Keys's philanthropic work, and I admire her integrity as an artist. But I don't particularly care for the kind of music she sings. This is more my style.

Quality pens and fine paper are marvelous for writing charming notes, leaving messages for family, or thanking supportive friends, and I love a beautiful journal, but I prefer to write fiction on a computer. (I agree whole-heartedly with Hannah about the frustrations of working with technology.)

Before you write to convince me I should love cowboys, R & B, and writing long hand, consider your own preferences. I'm not terribly stubborn about mine, but I accept them. It doesn't mean I can't be swayed to read something I ordinarily wouldn't, when it's suggested to me by a reader I respect.**

It's merely an issue of preference. In my opinion, if all writers and readers were identical, there would be no art. There wouldn't be any reason to discuss literature; we wouldn't bother to read to think or learn new ways of seeing the world. Here's the thing--I know some people will love my novel and some won't. I can long for stellar reviews and a wildfire of word-of-mouth, but at the end of the day, I know some won't connect with my artistry. I hope reviewers will get what I tried to accomplish, and of course, I want them to recommend it. I'd love to hear readers tell other readers LIFE WITHOUT SUMMER is a must read. Yet just as I have preferences, I need to respect the preferences of readers, knowing my novel isn't for everyone.

Here's another of my preferences: I chose to be positive. I'm not expending a lot of energy on those who won't care for my kind of story. Instead I'm doing my best to connect with readers looking for upmarket fiction about family, forgiveness and the struggle to find hope in healing. My marketing and publicity efforts are targeted and crafted to find my readers. People who want what I have to offer. I know they're out there. It's my job to find them.

**Novels I love about ghosts:
Portrait of Jennie by Robert Nathan
Eva Moves the Furniture by Margot Livesey

**Novels I love about cowboys:
Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid by William Goldman

**Novels I love about dogs:
Dogs of Babel by Carolyn Parkhurst
Lassie Come Home by Eric Knight