Best of Interviews: Mameve Medwed

We'd gotten a question on inspiration, and began thinking of memorable inspirations for stories we'd come across. One we love was the crazy kernel that Mameve Medwed nurtured into Of Men and Their Mothers. Rather than answer the question ourselves, we thought we'd bring back a "Best Interview" so you can hear the story again from Mameve yourself!

Mameve Medwed’s books are known for their strong sense of setting, fully-drawn characters, and plots that build on comedies of manners in the issues that matter most day-to-day: love, children, parents, career, self. Of her first novel, 1997’s Mail, Publishers Weekly noted that “Medwed’s talent is in the details,” and her books have been praised by the likes of Arthur Golden, Tom Perrotta, Gregory Maguire and Anita Shreve. Her book, Of Men and Their Mothers, was a BookSense “Notable Book” last May. She graciously agreed to be interviewed for The Writers’ Group blog, and offers insights into her path through and take on the literary life.

Hannah Roveto: Thank you for sharing your time with us. I’ve read your first four books, already bought the fifth, and the fact that you are known for humor is of particular interest to me. First off, Mail came out in 1997. What was your background to that point? You were writing already?

Mameve Medwed: Thank you, too! Yes, I was writing short stories and had published a lot. Mail started as a short story published in The Missouri Review. I thought I was a short story writer. Elinor Lipman called and said, you know, you need to write a novel. I told her I didn’t know how, and she said, “Nobody does. Take Mail and turn it into one.” So I did it, kicking and screaming. Then it finds an agent, results in a bidding war, and I thought, this isn’t so bad! I felt I never wanted to write short stories again. I love the luxury of working on something for a matter of years. I always panic at the end of a story, worry where the story will go, and will I ever get another idea. Novel writing delays that panic.

HR: How did you meet Elinor Lipman?

MM: I met Elinor almost thirty years ago in a writing class at Brandeis, adult ed, twelve weeks for forty bucks. We hit it off and became fast friends right away, especially since we were the only ones writing funny stuff and we were considered not “serious!”

HR: What did you learn as you grew into a novel writer?

MM: I don’t know what I learned, in that I did it by the seat of my pants. I’d always keep one paragraph ahead of myself. I was so certain I couldn’t do it, that nobody would want it, I didn’t set any limits on myself. I let my imagination spin, went on tangents, moved back and forth in time. I took classes, of course, at the Cambridge Center and at Radcliffe, which were tremendously helpful. I was quite sure nothing would come of it, though. I still feel that way with every novel, that I’m reinventing the wheel for myself.

HR: Did you have a writers group in those early days?

MM: I’ve certainly been sustained by writers groups and seminars, but all the groups petered out over time. They’d work for a while, then they didn’t. I have one reader over the years, Elinor, who’s been a constant. I read her work and she reads mine. Sometimes my agent reads before I’m done, sometimes someone else.

HR: Do you have a formal process or rules any longer?

MM: No. (Laughs.) Ellie send stories chapter by chapter, very polished. I send her big messy manuscripts I’ve certainly gone over a number of times, but I think she has the harder end of that deal. I don’t want to be stopped too early on.HR: If you are asking someone else to read, are there any guidelines you suggest to them?

MM: I’m very careful whom I ask to read. I have to know the person, know they know me. I want brutal honesty wrapped in encouragement. I don’t want to feel like I’m going to go home and fall on my sword; I want a certain professionalism. You need to know if the story works, the characters are real, whether there are any confusions. Is it too long, and so forth.

HR: You’ve said Mail took about three years to write, and your other books have come out at about two year intervals. Can you talk a bit to your process while you write? Do you outline, or know where your stories are headed, and do you have any thoughts on those “messy middles?”

MM: I’ve been told I’m “so prolific.” Of course, between the time you have a book accepted and when it is published is about eighteen months, so there’s been an additional six months or so of time nobody sees. I have very bad habits, or at least, a horrible time starting a new book. First, I’m often in the whole publication-touring-promotion phase for another book, so it’s hard to switch heads. I haven’t given birth to the old book yet, fully. Nothing flows, and that is torture. It’s an exquisite and delightful torture.

I never know the story when I start to write it out. That’s what makes it interesting to me. If I know, then to me the process feels too mechanical. I like the surprises along the way; they keep me going. If I felt I had to analyze or intellectualize the elements, I’d be paralyzed. I used to feel dumb, but I’ve learned to trust the subconscious when I’m in the zone.

The first draft, I try not to overthink. E.L. Doctorow had a quote about writing a novel: “It’s like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” I keep that over my computer.Once I have about fifty pages, though, I have a place to go. Then I’m really good, have exemplary habits. I can work for eight or ten hours a day and will do at least two pages each day, which accumulates. I let myself write badly; everything including the kitchen sink goes in, what I read in the newspapers, everything. I don’t worry about the middle, because I know I’m going to revise. In revising, I cut huge swathes through it, connect the dots, address continuity. If you allow yourself to write badly the first time through, you use some of it, not other parts, but it’s all there on paper.

HR: So you never know the endings, even in a book like The End of An Error (re-released in paperback last April)?

MM: No. I didn’t. And I don’t know that afterward she sticks with that choice or regrets it, either.

HR: Humor is tricky. What do you think makes it work, if it is something that can be quantified at all? Any tips for someone working in this category?

MM: I don’t think I’m funny. I’m dead serious when I’m writing. That it was funny was a surprise, that people laughed. I suppose it’s my voice, my style. I’ve been on panels, talked about it a lot, and I’ll say that when you’re going to write anything, even humor, it still has to be serious. I do write serious books, about life, love and loss. Robert Stone said it’s the great thing about literature: it makes the world less lonely.To write it, I know the characters have to be real, layered; they can’t be caricatures. The biggest danger in comedy is to have cardboard characters. You need a real person with an inner life. Trollope says that easy reading takes hard writing. You have to go over it a million times to make it seamless, make sure it flows.

HR: When you are ready to start a novel, what sets it off: a moment, a story you hear, a character idea? What inspired your newest book, Of Men and Their Mothers, for example?

MM: I always like writing about mothers and sons; there were certainly experiences with my own mother-in-law that prompt thoughts, and stories I hear. Although then you need to take it and bring it to another level. And class – that’s something we dare not name in our society. For the new book, I’d had some thoughts. Then a somewhat scruffy man was looking for some neighbors, who were out. I told the woman later about him, and she asked me to come over. She pulled a bag from the freezer: breast milk that had been in there for three years or so. Her husband was a lawyer who’d done a pro bono case for DSS and his client asked him to store the milk. The idea of someone’s breast milk in a stranger’s freezer for years… well, that clicked right away with what I was thinking!

HR: What do you like best about the literary life?

MM: I like that I am the god of my domain. I can do whatever I want. And I do love the torture of writing, which gives me the clay to do revision. I like the big feeling of having a book in me, no matter where I go, carrying it inside of me. I don’t like giving up that control once it’s done, when it depends on so many other people, on budgets, reviews and sales. It’s hard to give up the story to that. Most of us are shy, find it hard, worrying about what another person will think even though you know it’s only one opinion; but will it make or break the book? The lovely part, then in turn, is to have a book in your hands, in bookstores and libraries. You get that connection with readers.When you start writing, all you want is to have a book. Then you say, okay, all I want is another book. You’re never satisfied, and each time the anxiety gets ratcheted up, and then the book comes out and that alone doesn’t fulfill you. In the end, it always goes back to the joy and torture of writing your world. Every single time, you have to go back to the writing.

Information on Mameve Medwed’s books, from those above to How Elizabeth Barrett Browning Saved My Life and Host Family, as well as essays and public appearance dates are at http://www.mamevemedwed.com/.

Ronlyn Domingue

Join us in welcoming Ronlyn Domingue as our guest. Ronlyn is the author of The Mercy of Thin Air (Atria Books), which sold to 11 other countries. Her writing has appeared in New England Review, Clackamas Literary Review, New Delta Review, and The Independent (UK). Currently, she’s at work on her second novel. To learn more about her writing, visit her website at www.ronlyndomingue.com.

Here's the question we posed to her...

What is the secret to writing a novel?

A)
I have no clue, but this is what has worked for me the first time. So far, it's working for the second.

1. Discipline. Some people say that a writer MUST write every day. That isn't true. You have to figure out what works in your life. That might take a while to discover. You might plot your story, then write, then revise. You might start to write and watch it evolve as you go. Early mornings or late evenings, all day Sundays--whatever, it doesn't matter--as long as you put your rear in a chair on a schedule that works for you. My current process is to do lots of research and thinking for several years. Yes, years. I take notes, of course, and I don’t have a schedule for this. Once I actually write, however, it’s a serious binge of eight to sixteen hour days, several days a week. I mark this on my calendar, often in ink. (No, I don't have children.)

2. Passion. Love what you’re working on. Even when you hate it, love it. Surprisingly, writing a book presents challenges much like an intimate relationship. Remember what brought you together in the first place.

3. Study. Read what you love over and over again. There's a reason you love those books. Those authors are your teachers. Make a point to read new books every now and then. With them all, take notes, draw diagrams of the structures, and find those sentences that hold secrets in the balance.

Thank you, Ronlyn, for being our guest. And for those of you who haven't read The Mercy of Thin Air, pick up your copy today. It is a marvelous novel!

The Calm in the Storm

by Hannah Roveto

In the beginning, it was helpful that Lisa, Amy, Lynne and I were in the same place. We all wanted -- had started -- to write fiction. The road to where that would take us stretched out before us all, as it did before Dorothy and her sidekicks (once they'd found the Cowardly Lion, of course).

Years later, we are in different places. I know some writers would love to form a group, and yet they hesitate because they are all in different places. There are challenges, yes, but given the right frameworks, a writers' group is more flexible than you might think.

For us, the fact that we all write fiction is still key. We are dealing with similar essentials, if you make allowances for the genres within the fiction world. We do not do memoir, non-fiction (although we do love to read Lynne's works in progress there!), essays, picture books or corporate freelance types of work as a group.

That we have all come some distance along the path is also key. To paraphrase Lynne at our meeting yesterday, writing is like climbing stairs. You stand at the bottom and see five steps: research, write, edit, agent query, publish. You leap up that first step, push up onto that second step, and all of a sudden, you realize there are not three more steps. There are a thousand and three steps in the writing process alone, you may even have missed a number in the research, and there will likely be a thousand and three steps each in the editing, and the querying, and the publishing. To know that, to be a few thousand steps along and for someone else to still be waiting to take the first step are places that cannot be combined within a writers' group.

That said, what a group does offer, beyond gentle and (loving) not-so-gentle nudges along the steps for writers in different places goes beyond process.

There are points along the way -- starting a new story, doing thoughtful revision, considering edits -- where the mind goes blank. Or worse, where life swirls like a twister and ideas won't settle. To sit with likeminded people, to talk about the joys of words, of possibility, is grounding. This is not to say there is a flash of epiphany, a bolt of inspiration that follows immediately, but in a solitary endeavor, a small and dedicated community centers the spirit and provides a calm spot in the storm that can be the start of something productive. Which is precisely what yesterday's meeting provided to me.

My Mentor

By Amy MacKinnon

I met Stewart O'Nan last month when we both participated in a fundraiser for the Mark Twain House, Writers Read for Twain. He wasn't what I expected, not at all. I thought he would greet each of us with a polite hello and then retreat into himself. If you've read his books, then you might understand why I assumed such a thing. His work delves into the internal lives of his characters, deeply, in exquisite, discomfiting detail. Even his settings, such as the lake in Wish You Were Here, are fully realized characters. His books are often called quiet and it's somewhat true. Like that lake, they are to a certain degree, but we're all well aware of that old adage of what goes on beneath the surface.

That day at the Twain House, Stewart O'Nan was unlike his books: he was chatty, cheerful and kind. We talked quite a bit and when I confided how nervous I was to speak in front of such a large group, before so many of my favorite writers, he and Arthur Phillips took it upon themselves to sit on either side of me in the theater and whisper support until it was my turn. I was quite at ease because of it.

Afterward, I approached him with my copy of his novella Last Night at the Lobster. It is a little gem, 160 pages, and with more heart than most "big books" I've read lately. As he signed, I asked if it was a difficult thing to get it published considering it's length, the fact that it wasn't a big story and came with no discernable hook to promote it. He said it was. But, he added, I didn't listen because I believed in this book.

Though I left inspired, enough to attempt something similar myself, a project I'm working on now that has me hugely excited because of the challenges it presents creatively, but terrified because of the obstacles it may encounter in the marketplace, I thought it was an easy thing for him to say. He is Stewart O'Nan after all. Who wouldn't want to publish him?

And then I read this. His editor at Farrar Straus & Giroux, turned down the manuscript for Lobster. It was Stewart's tenth book and it was rejected. Imagine? Thankfully for all of us, Viking bought it and another, Songs for the Missing, due out next week. Yes, I'm excited to read it too.

Stewart O'Nan has taken great risks in his writing life, he, with the support of his wife (after reading the article, don't you adore her?), made real sacrifices for his writing. His path hasn't been linear, it's more a series of forks: heading north and then bearing west, pivoting east then moseying southwest. He's written thrillers, historical fiction, and a baseball memoir. Though he could have taken the easier route, he chose a journey filled with uncertainty and many, many obstacles. I suspect he did it to honor the integrity of his writing.

I suspect we all should.

Heroes

by Hannah Roveto

We have all heard it, the curse wrapped into bland pleasantry: "May you live in interesting times." Each morning when we wake up and turn on the news or open the papers, we indeed find ourselves in interesting times and few if any of us are feeling settled about them.

Truth is, we all have interesting times that go beyond today's headlines. We all have worries and fears, not just about the stock market, but about job security in any year, about our health, about the wellbeing of our friends, family and children. As writers we borrow those jumping heart rates, the crawl of apprehension, and transform them into interesting times for our characters. We create tension, strife, nemeses and tragedy, and we find ways for characters to make their way around, through and beyond, showing the why of how people act under stress and how they might succeed, whether or not they do in the end.

It's a fascinating pursuit we have chosen. We take bits and pieces of reality -- a wince of frustration, the honeyed sweetness of a rose, the angst of being sixteen, jaw-grinding tension -- and filter them through our own unique perspectives. We create a single, fresh reality that becomes a genuine experience for those who read it. What is real and what is made up, we are asked, over and over again. It's all real, we answer, and it's all made up. It is what we make it.

Take the "interesting times" phrase above. Turns out it is a fiction, created perhaps by an English writer around 1900. The real Chinese saying from which it seems to be derived does not involve a curse at all. Instead, it goes as follows:

Heroes are made over turbulent times.

This I like better, for my real life and for my writing. Life is what we make it. We can either feel falsely cursed to live in interesting times, or we can seek heroes made from turbulent times. Better yet, as writers, we get to take it yet a step farther. We have the opportunity to create heroes who rise from fictional turbulence to speak to readers riding the waves of the real world. The challenge to do so can be daunting, but how wonderful it feels to take that chance, and how beautiful the stories are from those who do it well. Lucky, lucky, us to be a part of it, yes?

A Group Grows Up

by Hannah Roveto

What does a writers' group offer to writers who are not just starting out? How is someone who has a full WIP or even experience in the wild world of publishing supposed to use a writers' group?

A friend of mine with two books on shelves recently formed a group with two other published authors and even among the three of them, the questions arose: What do we need from each other? What are the rules and boundaries? One of the writers has a full manuscript and her first need is for a reading and critique, while my friend is in the development stages, turning a script she wrote into a novel. She asked for my thoughts, which was hugely flattering.

I outlined our group's process as established early on, noting that as we evolved, the rules have become somewhat flexible. We meet regularly, not necessarily every two weeks. We don't turn out pages "just because," and still keep the pressure on ourselves to push forward. We do read full manuscripts and here is our process for that:

* Readers follow a piece's progress in chunks. However, as we near the end (Amy or Lynne's brilliant idea) the author holds back the last three or so chapters and rewrites/completes the entire manuscript. The work is delivered as a fresh story with an ending the readers have never seen.

* A complete manuscript is usually the sole work reviewed in a meeting. Pages are delivered in advance, packaged in gray copy center boxes that to us signify excitement and accomplishment. We read and comment on the entire book, from threads to plausibility to line edits.

The value of those comments is in their service to the author, which is more significant than it sounds. As Lynne once wrote, honesty is in the details, but those details can only be processed by the author, something we all recognize fully. The author can feel free to use readers outside the group. And while the author considers any reader's critique as a flag marking something worth review, critique is recognized by the writer -- and the readers -- as opinion. Our role is to point out details that work and don't work, where the strengths are and where challenges might lie. We hope to help make the foundation strong; what the author does with our thoughts is her prerogative. We trust each other enough to know the advice is good, and we take what is needed as a gift, with deep appreciation.

In fact, The Writers Group members have never seen the final manuscripts delivered by our sisters-in-writing to an agent. (A draft once, but no finals.) We have seen only predecessors. What stayed and what went, what was deleted or added by the author -- and in turn, the agent and editor -- is a surprise. Really. And on that note, is everyone ready for a fabulous book being released on the twelfth called Tethered? I'm dying to read it!

Moms Who Write

By Amy MacKinnon

I love this Boston Globe article -- no, not because both Lynne and I are featured -- but because it strikes at the heart of what it is you and I are trying to do: write. We will write no matter the barriers, no matter the external pressures, no matter the doubt. We will write.

Thanks to Grub Street for letting us have the photo taken there. If you've read the article, now you understand why I'm a proud Grubbie.

Copy Edits

Posted by Lynne Griffin

Lisa's story arrived in pictures on Monday, Amy's galley on Tuesday and Hannah's inspiration just yesterday. What did I get in the mail this week? My copy edited manuscript. It is really a thrill to see it, all marked up with purple pencil, with little green Post-its littered throughout.

The process of getting a manuscript through production includes a thorough read by an expert stylist and grammarian. You'd be surprised at how many little details and inconsistencies even the most meticulous writer misses.

Some of you are old pros at this part of the publication process, but for those of you who aren't, let me share how it works.

The manuscript was sent to me via UPS with a tracking number--the mere thought of all that work getting lost is frightening. When it arrived, I pulled it from its envelope and went through each page to get a sense of just how much work there would be to do. You see, my job at this stage is to go through and read the manuscript word-by-word. When I get to a correction made by the copy editor--it could be as simple as to add or delete a comma, or as complex as to change a whole sentence, for readability--I am to decide whether or not to accept the change. If I accept it, I do nothing; just leave it and keep reading. If I disagree with the change (and I would if the change interfered with meaning, or characterization, and the like) I write the word STET next to it, which means leave the material as it was written.

Through the manuscript on Post-it notes, there are what are called queries. The copy editor is in fact asking me questions. They can be easy questions such as, do I like the sentence change, to more complicated ones like would this character really do this? I even had to do a bit of research on some queries, like do certain trees hold their leaves as long as I said they did. Great pick ups like this assure a quality read for readers. My copy editor did an amazing job with another important task--reading for consistency.

Enclosed in the package sent to me, is what is called a style sheet. Imagine a set of directions that covers everything from how unique words will be spelled, (one-two punch & hit and run) how dates and times will be managed, (spell out the quarter hour & use a.m and p.m.) and (this is my favorite) a character listing, one that includes physical traits and plot details. It even includes a brief summary of each chapter. I loved seeing my novel captured this way by a fresh reader.

All of this work done by someone you may never meet, but should certainly thank, is a generous gift. To know that someone who loves books took tons of time to read and fine-tune my manuscript is awe inspiring.

My copy edits are done now and will go back to my editor. She in turn will send it back over to production so that the changes can be incorporated into the manuscript. Next step is galley creation, like the one you saw Amy holding this week. Each of these essential milestones take me closer to publication. It's hard work, but thrilling.

Those of you who've gone through this process, feel free to add info I've left out via the comments section. And if you have questions, feel free to pose them here.

The Character is the Story

By Amy MacKinnon

Sunday was a day of decadence.

While my children entertained themselves with painting and books, video games and IMing, while my husband prepared our dinner in the kitchen and my dog chased turkeys in the backyard, I laid on the couch, tucked myself under a blanket, and read a book cover-to-cover. It was divine. I justified it by telling myself it was research and it was.

The book was Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane. No, it isn't as good as his others --Mystic River and the Patrick Kenzie series -- but it does share one important aspect, in fact, the most important aspect of any good story: memorable characters.

I finished reading Shutter Island about 11:00 p.m., long after I should have been asleep. But I stayed with it not because of the plot, though it had that great hook everyone talks about; not because of the pacing, though it had that too; I stayed because of Lehane's protagonist Teddy Daniels. He moved me. And when I closed the book hours after my bedtime, I wanted nothing more than to give Teddy Daniels shelter from this cruel world of ours. I cared for him. Deeply.

That's been the problem with a lot of books I've picked up lately -- great hook, okay pacing, life-altering conflict -- but the characters fall flat. I read 20, 30, sometimes as many as 50 pages and then I close the book. If I don't believe in the characters, feel them as wholly as I do the people around me, I simply don't care to read more.

Jane Austen isn't beloved because of her stories and conflicts, pacing and settings. Her books are still read today because her characters come to life on the page. Ms. Austen didn't think readers would much like her novel's namesake Emma, too flawed, she thought, but that is exactly why we adore her. Emma is a reflection of our misguided desires. Have you read Austen lately? The writing is difficult, the conflicts are simple, and we all can be assured of how the stories will end, and yet her books live on and on because her characters do.

Stephen King isn't the bestselling writer of all time because he writes horror. I don't actually read horror, nor do many people I know who read Stephen King. We read his books because he writes characters who are as real to us as the man three doors down with the bad teeth and taste for Schlitz, the one who calls the ambulance to his home every so often when loneliness gets the better of him. King's good guys can be bad (Larry Underwood) and his bad guys can be unbearably sweet (Trashcan Man). His characters are alive. Just writing about it now makes me want to read The Stand again.
I think about all of this as I write my next book. I want to create people who are as real to you as they are to me. I want you to see the grit and tears caking in Mrs. Martin's crows feet; smell the collective sweat of the room that contains them all; I want you to hear the blood pumping in Edith's ears as she runs through the woods and feel the bruise forming at her hip where the gun butt beats in time to her step; and I want you to know George and his angst the way only George has come to know it.

So Sunday wasn't completely decadent. It was just another reminder of what I need to do to write a good book. God, I hope I can.

A Story in Pictures

Posted by Lisa Marnell

Perhaps I was inspired by the Muse & the Marketplace conference last weekend. Maybe it was the SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators) summer conference flyer that came in the mail, but when I sat down to write early Saturday morning, I couldn't. I did something better.

I am not a visual person, not really. I'm the person who can tell you every song that has been playing on the overhead speakers in a store for the previous twenty minutes. I listen well. I don't need a picture.

However, this Saturday, I searched images online. I looked through photographs from my dad's old place in New Hampshire. For my YA story to come to life, I needed to see the place I was writing about. How could I write about December in fictional Sugarton, New Hampshire, with now-drying Southern California mountains watching me from my window. And the birds! They were lovely, yes, but quite the distraction. So, I searched for photos that would bring me to my protagonist's world. Take a look at my album: photos taped on the wall above my laptop now.




The bowling alley where I first saw Rose, the real Rose, a girl with stringy hair and not enough change for a Coca Cola.






The house Rose returns to after her hospitalization. This is the start of my novel, and this picture helps me visualize Rose's home. It's dark. It's dreary. Her house is actually half this size. It's not somewhere she wants to be. I found this photo on Google images.

















This is the storm that arrives the night that Rose walks to her friend Ava's house.




Here's the ski hill where, well, you'll have to buy the book. And I have to finish writing it.

Writing Routines

Post By Lynne Griffin
Painting By Carolyn Jundzillo

Pastel buds bursting or about to burst, days warm enough for long walks ending at the beach for a dip, the local ice cream shop is open for business. In my beautiful seaside town, spring arrived just in time for the schools' April vacation. Though my son still has an entire term to finish, like most teenagers, he's in a summer state of mind.

Parents tell me, one of my most useful tag lines in NEGOTIATION GENERATION is if you can predict it, you can prevent it. If a child, or adult for that matter, behaves the same way time and time again, that's person's behavior is predictable. So when it comes to my writing routines and my children being off from school this summer, I can already predict they're going to have to change. The children and the writing routines.

My present writing routine includes seeing everyone off to jobs and schools, coffee in hand, I tackle responding to email and planning upcoming programs. Once the to-do list is under control, I start reading and editing the pages I wrote the previous day. That puts me in the writing zone, and pulls me into the story, and then it's time to write new pages. Without distraction, I can write for hours. Afterschool activities for my son and commuting for my husband, leave me plenty of time to arrive at my writing saturation point. I stop and then take care of other correspondence or household responsibilities until the house becomes alive again.

As of May 9th, things will change. My daughter will be home from college and in another month my son will finish his sophomore year. I have a lot of summer experience telling me I'll have to alter my routine. Everyone knows teenagers love to sleep in. So on the days neither is up and out to a job, along with my husband, I plan to write first thing. Hours of revision to my work-in-progress complete, I'll be able to handle the inevitable distractions that come once they're up and the phone starts ringing, plans ricocheting around the house until things get settled and their off for a few more hours.

Like a mother knows she should sleep when her newborn is sleeping, I know to write when my teenagers are out of the house. You never know when they'll return, with friends in tow. Since I love having a home where my children's friends feel at ease, I plan to be in a state of mind to welcome them. I know I'll only feel this way if I get my writing in. Nothing agitates me more than having my writing plans thwarted, for any reason. I can let it go one day, maybe two, but repeatedly losing time to write puts me in a foul mood. Fortunately my children respect this.

Here's where my predicting the challenge of writing in summer comes in handy. As a family, we've already begun a conversation about general routines for summer. Who will work and when, and when friends can come over and when the house is a no friend zone. My children--and their friends--support my writing and love the fact that I've written a book, they're proud to say I'm a soon-to-be-published novelist. I fully expect little will get in the way of me achieving my writing goals this summer and I'm certain of this because not only am I willing to make changes to my writing routine, but I've honestly and without hesitation told my family what I need them to do to aid me. Of course, I also predict there will be snags in the plan, but overall I expect it will go well.

So how do you predict your writing routine will change when the beach and your children are calling? What seasonal changes can you make to ensure you'll still achieve your writing goals?

Journals

Posted by Lynne Griffin

I have a thing for journals. I love quality stationery, mechanical pencils and pens that glide across the page. Right now if you were to go into my office closet or peek in a desk drawer, you'd find more cloth bound books and brightly colored pads of paper than I'll need for some time. These are my tools, and I can't write without them.

The stationery is for charming notes, the pens and pencils to enhance the writing experience. The journals are my most versatile tool used to capture the journey toward completing a novel. I don't use my journal in the traditional sense, a daily entry highlighting the day's activities and feelings associated with my life. I keep one for each book I write and in each I keep tidbits of ideas for my work-in-progress. In it I have vital information that will never find its way directly into the novel, but details that are essential to a tight, well-crafted work.

Here are a few of things I write down.

• Each character's age and the month of their birthday, along with their relationships with other characters. (For example, I don't want a character to be an older sister at the beginning of the novel, and later claim she's the younger of the two.)

• The names of all my minor characters and where they fit into the story (Boy can these people get lost in the shuffle.)

• The book's timeline (If it's Tuesday in Chapter one, what day is it in Chapter twenty? I fear I'll write a story where it's always Friday. Keep in mind, readers love to find these glitches in a novel, but they remove the reader from the story and thus interrupt flow.)

• Page counts of chapters (While it's fine to have chapters of varying length, I like to know how my story's structure is falling into place. Later I can decide to combine or expand certain chapters to fit the overall structure.)

• Lists of resources--print, web, and people-- that I can go to for story details (Authenticity of details is a post in and of itself)

• Interviews completed (For my work-in-progress, I've completed several interviews that have added incredible information I'm using to inform plot, character and setting. I don't know when I need this info until I'm writing and suddenly I need it, and I want to have it handy.)

• Notes related to revisions that will need to be layered into a subsequent draft (While I revise the writing from the day before each morning before I write again, I don't go back to the beginning, even if something is revealed to me in say the middle of the novel. I capture the notes in my journal and then in revision I'll know to add details or make changes. For example, a minor character in my work-in-progress had children in chapter three, but by chapter twenty-eight it was clear it was better if he didn't. Note to self--remove his children from chapter three)

The most significant use of my journal is during writers' group. During critique of my pages, sitting quiet, unable to speak, I write. I write down the positive things Amy, Lisa and Hannah say, as well as the constructive feedback. I do this for many reasons. For practical reasons, I have to know what's working and what's not. If I don't have the feedback to review later, I won't recall specifically what was discussed. I might think I'll remember, but likely I'll miss something. It also provides me with the ability to review the notes for themes. Is one character inconsistently relating to another character? Do a number of chapter beginnings overdue exposition? Is a particular subplot missing the mark in places? Taking accountability for the things that consistently emerge, absolutely makes for a stronger novel. Thanks to my journal, I won't miss any of these.

The process of capturing feedback is in itself a means of making positive change. Remember I'm a teacher, and teachers know that the act of writing down what you need to change is the first step toward embracing the change. The process of writing it down raises awareness and centers new thinking in a place of conscious thought. And it doesn't hurt to have the details that made your writers' group gasp, cry, or smile written down either. The positive feedback is a source of comfort on days when the writing is hard.

So how do you capture the nuances and tidbits for pulling together a strong work? We've written a number of entries about the art of writing, but I strongly believe in the science of it too. Work habits can either enhance or interfere with the process of writing a novel. Care to share some of the habits that work for you?

A Room...

Posted by Lynne Griffin

Of one's own? With a view?

Virginia Woolf believed every woman should have a place to write her fiction, along with the personal liberty to create art. E. M. Forester built a novel juxtaposing characters between rooms and views. Those characters depicted trapped inside were considered uncreative and conservative, while those outside were forward thinking and open minded; his room with a view the perfect metaphor for the intersection where the best traditional ideals meet avant-garde inspiration.

Where writers think and create should be conducive to laying mind, body and soul open to storytelling. The decor and tools available, befitting the creative process, will be as unique as the story that emerges on paper. Who among us would knowingly welcome any additional obstacles to the already wearying creative process?

Up until Monday of this week, I have written my nonfiction in one place and my fiction in another. Writing parenting articles and books was my day job, the work taking shape in a typical office setting. Desk against the wall, nothing proved distracting; no phone call or printer buzzing would interfere with meeting page goals or word limits.

My fiction was written on my laptop. Making a distinction between time for writing work and my creative outlet, I'd park myself in one of three places in my home--a comfortable window seat with double hung glass and cushy pillows, or a chair given to me by my mother stationed overlooking my backyard, or a simple dining room chair parked facing the front yard. Any window would do, I simply needed one to open me up to all the possible directions my characters might choose to travel.

Last week after finishing a chapter in my work-in-progress, then talking to my web designer about how to incorporate my present book and my soon-to-be-published book into my new site, my editor emailed asking me to submit my dedication and acknowledgment pages for Life Without Summer. Suddenly it hit me--I write novels for a living. Yes, I realize it took me a while to fully grasp this.

To fully embrace my multifaceted writing identity, I recognized that I could incorporate my room with a view with my room of one's own.

So with my dear husband's help, my office has been transformed. Over the weekend, we cleaned and tidied, organized and reconfigured. My desk was dragged away from the wall and turned out to face the window. A new bookcase and a pair of matching lamps brighten my space and my outlook.

It's only been a few days since I staked my claim to this space in a new way, but every minute I've spent sitting in that chair has felt marvelous.

It's my very own room with a view. Do you like it?

If you know of any websites with more photos of author workspaces, please share links in the comment section. I love seeing where authors receive their inspiration to create great books.

Writing Fiction and Nonfiction

Posted by Lynne Griffin

Next month--March 24th to be precise--I will be teaching my first writing class at Grub Street. I've been teaching at the graduate level for years, such things as techniques of counseling, group dynamics, effective teaching, curriculum design and writing for publication. But never writing to writers.

I can't wait.

In every writing class I've taken, the instructor uses the equivalent of an icebreaker, in the form of a writing exercise. While I don't mind them in class, I'm not one to use them personally to limber up my synapses or to work out my writer's block. Like sharing work in a writing class, I think their use can be risky. Beginning writers may feel intimidated. Advanced writers annoyed with what could be perceived as a time waster.

So I've decided, and I'd love your opinion on this, to start my workshop off respecting something everybody has and most people like to share. Opinions.

Each time the writers' group meets, before and after we critique pages, we discuss the subtleties of the writing process, and the complexities of the marketplace. Our individual and collective experiences are a tangle of thoughts, feelings, and actions that together shape our personal opinions.

Imagine sitting around a table, in a setting that inspires. With ground rules for respecting everyone's opinion established, and expectations that everyone who'd like to share can share, we'll challenge our thinking.

Here are just a few of the opinions I want to discuss with my students. Feel free to weigh in.

1. Excellent writers know exactly how they work and why their process is effective.
2. Writing nonfiction and fiction are two completely different experiences; they can't be compared.
   
3. A writer limits the likelihood of success if he or she divides time between writing fiction and nonfiction.
   
4. Agents don't represent writers who choose to write in a different genre once signed for another.
5. For the writer with a multifaceted writing identity, the marketplace won't know how to market the writer.

So what do you think? For these and other questions I'll pose, there are no right or wrong answers. Only opinion--formed through the personal experiences of the students. I hope getting a discussion going on what could be perceived as controversial topics will spice up my workshop. Feel free to toss more questions my way or offer your thoughts on the ones listed above. I'll report back after I run the class. Wish me good luck.

The Evolutionary Process

by Hannah Roveto

The Group met last night, Amy at one end of the table and Lynne at the other, Lisa on the opposite side of the length of the table from me (well, the phone sat on her placemat), all in our usual spots. At the close of each meeting we pick the next date, assuming it will be two weeks from that night unless someone has a commitment. As we discussed who would have pages to share, the issue of where we all are in our various projects came up, and in turn, process.

Lynne mentioned she knows now how she seems to work best on first drafts, starting without an outline and, well, she can tell you herself at some point. Despite plugging away daily on revisions, I do have my second protagonist and her cronies tapping on my shoulder, and Lynne's comments made me realize how I seem to work best, which is of course, nothing like how she works. It also made me appreciate what I've learned from Novel Number One from a craft standpoint.

You see, stories come to me in scene fragments: a character with a problem, those immediately around him or her. I see other moments, not necessarily in order. Maybe tension rising again toward the end, or a battle of wits between two people trying hard not to fall in love. A first line of a chapter a third of the way through. In the past, I didn't know what to do with these bits, how to wrangle them into something workable, effectively, relatively efficiently. I drew out one, then another, tried to envision them in some order, write between them. Trust me, not a good idea. Some sections worked. Some, well, to be polite, did not. My process made me crazy.

By learning about fiction writing through Novel One, how it all needs to hang together, about form and structure and purpose, I can see how to work within my process.

In spare moments, I have begun putting the flashes of Novel Two on paper in one place, rather than on stickies and in small notebooks that scatter the house and my bag. Finishing Novel One is the priority, so I put away the notebook quickly, but when Novel One heads to Agent City, I am ready with questions:

*Who exactly are my characters, major and minor? The characters who seem minor at first may turn out to hold the most important clues, so everyone who shows up on the doorstep has to be recognized. I don't fill out those long questionnaires on each character, but I do start a page in a binder for each one and jot down the details that come to me. Appearance, challenge, personality, age, needs, and this gem from a great teacher: what the character thinks of the others who've shown up, as well.

*What are the plot threads that I can see in those moments, again, major and minor? What does the main character need to do, to learn, to experience? How does that affect the others, and in turn, what are their issues and journeys, respectively?out and I will pull out:

*Setting. Where do these little vignettes take place? Are they in the big city, a seaside village, a small town on the Plains? Why do I see them there, how does the setting influence them?

*Finally, what seems to be the overall premise? Why does this story need to be told and then, point of view, who is the character(s) most suited to tell it?

Even with only a few pages of notes gathered in the next couple of months, I can draw out enough from each vignette to create something more comprehensive. From there, even with an outline of a few rough strokes or even none at all at least at first, I can dive into that new world waiting to be created with confidence.