A New House

Posted by Lynne

I've never built a house, but I took a wonderful course on building a novel. When I was deep in to a revision of Life Without Summer, I took a course on story construction offered through Grub Street by the smart and talented Stace Budzko. It helped me then, but how was I to know that eight months later, as I delved into crafting my next novel, that things he taught me would flood into my mind with new relevancy.

The elements of our stories are not unlike those of a house. What we know about our characters--how they behave and misbehave--their desires, wants and needs are as important to the writer as the windows that allow light into the living room. Plot can be seen as the opening and closing of doors. Voice--the house's architectural style.

Having built and sold one novel already, I know that building a good foundation is critical to the novel's ability to stand out in the marketplace. For me, settling on point of view is an important first step in creating the right structure, telling the right story. Whose story is it? Which character(s) have the most to gain and the most to lose given the situations and complications I've chosen to write about? When I find the heart of the story, I know it. I love writing in two voices, so for me there is often more than one heart to consider.

At every stage of novel building it's important to use quality goods. For a writer, the raw materials are words. This time I'm finding it even easier to lay down the structure with care, partly because the more I write the more I fall in love with words. Though in truth, I'm confident, because I trust that even when a house is done, there is nothing wrong with moving a little furniture or hanging new curtains. Even brothers and sisters have been known to change rooms, and parents know when it's time to add a room over the garage.

Perhaps the single most valuable lesson I learned from Stace during that weekend in April relates to setting. I will be forever grateful to him for opening my eyes to the idea that setting can be compelling, not merely a backdrop "where characters do their thing". Whether you imagine the places in your novel as pleasing, forbidding or somewhere in between, setting embodies all the places that influence the way your characters see the world and how they respond to it.

Andre Dubus once said, "We enter the fictional world through memory". During my weekend course, Stace urged me to take every opportunity to pry, eavesdrop, stare, and otherwise gather the material I'd need to build a story. Little did he know that the perspectives he offered, I would remember, serving me well in my building projects down the road.

Charming Notes

Posted by Lynne

Just like reading and writing are inseparable to the writer, the content of a book is indivisible from the process of capturing the subject matter and packaging it just so, to gain the attention of readers.

I've always loved to read both fiction and nonfiction, often simultaneously reading one of each. I like a little educational psychology with my upmarket fiction. Finding my pleasure in all things book related, I frequently go to author readings and have observed a few patterns among those who attend.

At fiction readings, the author shares a few tantalizing pages, teasing the audience, while letting them bask in the glory of the prose. During the Q and A that follows, within minutes the conversation turns away from the themes of the work and on to the process of writing. Where do you write and for how long? How many words do you write each day? Do you use a computer or do you write longhand? Have you any rituals of literary significance?

In my opinion, there is as much attention paid to the process of writing as to the content of the book; in some cases more attention.

With nonfiction, for the most part, I've noticed it's all about what's inside the book that counts. The premise or thesis is top dog. The process of writing, and often the actual writing, takes a back seat.

So on the publication of my book-- the one my dear friends at the Writers' Group have been telling you about all week--I braced myself for all inquiries to be about parenting, parenting and more parenting. Don't get me wrong, I didn't really mind that no one was likely to care that I wrote the manuscript using mini-narratives, ones that might draw readers in; I'd hoped they'd see themselves in the story-like descriptions of family life. Or that I'd created a detailed outline of each chapter as I wrote, making certain that I included anecdotes of children of all developmental ages, never once repeating a single child's name or favoring a gender.

I prepared myself to concentrate on how I'd share my views in a nonjudgmental way, hoping I could do my small part to change our culture of blame game parenting, in favor of one of compassionate understanding.

Then one week after my book landed on bookstore shelves I received this email from a reader.

"I have purchased and started Negotiation Generation and it couldn't have come at a better time - with all of the transitions into the new school year. You've hit the nail on the head with the advice and the writing is terrific...Truly, you make the reader feel honored, not chastised, while pointing the way to a better parenting path."

And there you have it. The content and process are united. The reader saw what I painstakingly tried to accomplish. One reader can give hope to the writer that there may be more who see it too.

I am grateful.

If you haven't done so already, purchase a copy of Carolyn See's Making a Literary Life. There is no sweeter thing-- to the giver or the receiver-- than what Carolyn calls the charming note.

What It All Means, As Suggested by Virgina Woolf

by Hannah

Lisa at Eudaemonia mentioned a few weeks ago she was reading Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse, a book picked off my mother's floor years ago to save from donation. I read it, found it murky but interesting and stuck on my own bookshelf. Back then I was not yet living a domestic life in any way, not yet focused on fiction at a deeper level. Passages spoke to me, and I liked how the perspectives shifted, sometimes paragraph to paragraph, because it reminded me of a movie in which the viewer can hear everyone's thoughts aloud.

Thanks to Lisa, I picked up To the Lighthouse again, and was wowed. Within seven paragraphs in one early spot, Woolf starts with Mrs. Ramsay's point of view on her husband and a specific domestic scene, shifts to the son's viewpoint, includes five bits of dialogue, only one using quotes, then wraps up with Mr. Ramsay's point of view. It works, I swear!

Heaven help the woman, of course, if she'd passed that around for someone to critique. What would people say? The rules are such, the scene is confusing; it certainly won't sell. Still, I have tucked this scene and book away as a Guardian Angel, to use Martha Southgate's term for books that show us outstanding use of techniques and approaches we are ready to dare to attempt.

Even when it was published, this book raised eyebrows. It was experimental, pushed the envelope in terms of technique and theme, blending the two together. How do people think, how do they react in life's small situations in a way that reflects on life's greatest questions?

Woolf does offer an answer. As Lily works on her painting, she thinks about what it all means, considers asking the content poet what he thinks. She looks at her picture.

"That would have been his answer, presumably -- how "you" and "I" and "she" pass and vanish; nothing stays; all changes; but not words, not paint. Yet it would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be rolled up and flung under a sofa; yet even so, even of a picture like that, it was true. One might say, even of this scrawl, not of that actual picture, perhaps, but of what it attempted, that it "remained for ever," she was going to say, or, for the words spoken sounded even to herself, too boastful, to hint, wordlessly..."

Maybe one answer writers look for lies in the rethinking, the pushing of the envelope, no matter what anyone tells us the rules might be, so that even if the work is rolled up and thrown under a sofa, it still exists; no matter what, our visions remain.

Thank you, Lisa!

Finding Your Voice

Posted by Lynne

When I was a little girl, my brother and sisters used to beg me to leave the station wagon, go up to the window and order our ice cream. They didn't really need to plead a case, because I liked taking charge and making my request known, though it was a bit tricky juggling six cones all the way back to the car.

For all the years I spent in school, my teachers never once wrote in my report card, should participate more in class. In fact no one has ever told me to find my voice. I've always had something to say.

If you're like me, writing provides the perfect vehicle to say a lot about many things. After all it isn't always socially appropriate to comment on everything you think and feel. Or perhaps you live quietly, choosing carefully when to speak, but in your writing you can express your deepest thoughts and opinions. Whichever type of person/writer you are--we all need voice.

The best writing has a strong voice. Characters who express themselves in unique and interesting ways. When they speak, whether you like them personally or not, you listen. What would Catcher in the Rye be without Holden's remarks about behavior he finds, "crumby?" Or how about Seth in Toni Morrison's gem, Beloved? I never once needed attributions for Seth's dialogue, I always knew when she was speaking.

Voice. The unique words, body language and tonal qualities our characters possess, set our writing apart from everything else. If you fear what some say about there being no new stories to tell, there's hope in finding voice. No matter what story you're compelled to tell, the character's voice--their view of the world and what's happening to them--changes everything.

Think about any story you've ever been told. Let's take the phone call from the agent story. You know there's a call. You know the news is good. What keeps you listening, sitting on the edge of your seat is the voice of the storyteller. Did she scream or swear? Or jump up and down like a game show contestant or make a grateful sign of the cross. Or did she retain a nonchalant demeanor, hang up the phone and decide to call the agent back to be certain she hadn't misunderstood the offer?

Author, Holly Lisle says, Voice is style, plus theme, plus personal observations, plus passion, plus belief, plus desire. Voice is bleeding onto the page, and it can be a powerful, frightening, naked experience.

You can't have voice if you don't know what you or your characters want to say. Each character in your novel allows you a venue for social commentary. Inhabit them. Ask each one what he or she wants or needs to say, next listen to the ways they choose to speak to you.

Then write it down.