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Image courtesy of Flicker.

Just in time for the holidays…

I am at my childhood home as I write this. Each time I come back here, a flood of thoughts comes to mind. Like the fact that I am Catholic (albeit fallen and can’t get up) and my mother (converted) would tell us every Christmas that Baby Jesus fell from the sky, right into his little manger. Just like magic! It was a much cleaner drop than, say… from a stork, and he managed to land in a perfect, Godlike manner.

It’s a ridiculous story told by a recent immigrant and convert, but I believed her interpretation of the Birth of Our Lord – for a long, long time. I was naive and it took an awful lot for me to wise up. Looking back, I realize that her little white lie covered up the fact that she really didn’t want to go into the reproductive systems of Mary and Joseph. What better way to give birth than to just drop from the heavens? (I know I would have liked it more than the real thing.)

This caused me to think, especially now that NaNoWriMo is over. (I have my 50K or so words, but this means nothing.)

Just because you have a draft doesn’t mean it’s all over. Your 50K or so words are not perfect. Your writing will not fall from the sky, hitting its target without a bruise. It takes a great deal of thought, a lot of work and persistence, and the willingness to adjust before a book is ready for anything besides a dark corner of your basement closet.

Case in point: My first novel. It took two years of NaNoWriMo and then some to write the first (awful) draft. The only words that made sense in that version was “The End.” Going through the 175K words that first time made me want to heave. So I put it away (in disgust) for a year.

Eventually, I decided the story was good but the execution was terrible. Then came three years of editing, with various editors. Again, again, and again. I learned the first draft was woody and stiff, my characters more like caricatures, and I wobbled between genres. Once I beefed up the characters, chose a genre, eliminated 50K unnecessary words – starting the story on Page 72 helped – the job was not yet complete.

No. The more I thought about the story, the more I wove in themes. Musical themes, social themes. Everyone had a secret. I broke the book into three distinct parts to coordinate with a piano concerto. The first, the stage set with heartbreak; the second, healing begins; the third, overcoming adversity and starting anew. It took a long time to edit, much blood, sweat, and tears, but I’m pleased with the end result.

With my current NaNo effort (which stared out as a “Christian” novel, but will end up more YA with a sweet story), I can already see where I’ll have to work on my characters. I have a story line set up, complete with plenty of conflict and a resolution, but have decided that my novel would be more interesting if everyone had a secret.

This rambling post is to remind you that your first effort, while probably good, is not your best. If you’re an honest writer, you know that your writing does not just fall from out of the blue. It takes hard work to produce your best. It takes trial and error, but eventually, you will have that perfect baby.

Happy editing!

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powerpuff

Yes, this is what I feel like. Blossom, the amazing Powerpuff Girl!

You see, I’ve been kicking ass on this year’s NaNoWriMo.

Saturday, I added up my words and found I had over 26K! And this with taking days off!

How did I do it? I have a few tips you might want to consider. Try them or not, it’s working for me.

  1. Don’t care about the outcome, otherwise you’ll expend good writing time on worry. You’re not in a race with other writers; you’re trying to improve the level of output.
  2. Likewise, as you’re writing, don’t go backwards over your words to tweak them. Tweaking/editing is done in December, after the NaNo sprint has been completed. When I’m on a roll, I won’t even use quotation marks for dialogue. Punctuation can come later.
  3. Instead of writing a linear story, consider writing characters. My current story has three characters, all of which will have their own voice in the novel. I’m writing each one in a separate Word file. The same event is happening to each of them, and I’m telling the story from each one’s decidedly different point of view. (Another reason to have different files for different characters – you won’t have the total word count niggling at you. You’ll have to do as I did, add up the counts once in a while. I did this with Virtually Yours – seven characters, seven files.)
  4. If you feel like you’re drained of inspiration, consider getting a writing prompt book to get the creative juices flowing. I am currently using Story Starters by Michelle Richmond, but any prompt book will help. This is a great book for building characters, as some of the exercises explore background without getting into back story. Everyone has a reason for doing the things they do.
  5. Sit down whenever you can and sprint write. You don’t need hours; every 15-20 minutes is enough, if that’s all you have.

As for me, I’m going to complete my Day Job work as quickly as I can. I have a date with NaNoWriMo and destiny.

Good luck to all of you writers, and see you at the end of the month!

 

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Are we all excited?

Tomorrow, November 1, is the first day of NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. You know, the month where writers around the world sign up with glee, intending to pump out 50,000 words in 30 short days.

For those who are math-challenged, that is 1,667 words per day.

For those writers who are challenged by something more than math (laziness, procrastination, fear and loathing), November 1st is a day of trepidation.

I’ve participated nearly every year since 2005. I’ll admit, some years I take a break due to family issues or maybe edits of other writing. I’m not exactly an expert on November writing, but I can offer some words of advice. Take them or leave them, because admittedly, I am a writer without a clue.

  1. It’s nice to have a plan, but you don’t need one. I’ve utilized two NaNoWriMos to write Virtually Yours and Virtually Yours Forever. Talk about success in NaNo, but there was a reason. One was a love story in 30 days; the other was a wedding in 30 days. These two novels were planned long in advance; I knew the characters, the story lines, the subplots, the Big Reveals, and since the stories progressed linearly, as in day by day, it was fairly easy to make the mark of 1,667 words per day. But again, I say, YOU DON’T NEED A PLAN! Just WRITE! Here are a few ways you can accomplish that.
  2. Write random scenes. You don’t have to start at Page One, Chapter One. Instead, imagine yourself in your characters’ world and write out a scene. I can guarantee you that a scene is usually more than 1,667 words. You might not use the scenes you write, but it’s better to have more words than less, especially during the first draft stage.
  3. Write random dialogue between your characters. I often do this as practice. Writing dialogue has always been problematic for me. Even though I’m much improved, I still shy away from doing it. It’s always been easier for me to internalize what the characters are saying instead of actually saying what they are saying. Don’t use tags, in order to make the most of your time. You can always add the attributes later. If you want to note the way the characters are reacting (sadness, anger, lust, etc.), I’d definitely add notes.
  4. Write about your characters. Tell yourself in words what he/she looks like, what they like and dislike, what kind of clothes they wear, if they have an accent, what their quirks are. Outline their family history. Expound upon where they live – the house, the city, the state. This may seem like a deviation from actually telling the story, but is helpful in developing your characters as real people. It also adds to your word count.
  5. It’s nice to have a designated time or place, but not necessary. In past years, I’ve said to myself “3 to 5 p.m., in my comfy chair,” but let’s face it, life is too full of drama sometimes.
  6. Likewise, don’t limit yourself to the computer. Carry a notebook and pen at all times! If you forget or don’t like to write passages in longhand, be smart and open up your smart phone. There’s an app called “Notes” – use it! When you get a chance, you can transcribe your writing into your word processing program and add to your word count.
  7. Remember, this is not a race! It’s not a race against others, it’s not even a race against yourself. NaNoWriMo is meant to encourage good writing habits, meaning writing something every day.
  8. Don’t beat yourself up if you haven’t completed a novel by November 30. As stated in Number 7, the intent of NaNoWriMo is not to complete a novel.

Now, my fellow writers, get a good night’s sleep tonight and go get ’em!

See you at the end of November.

 

Posted in books, editing, indie publishing, Joanne Huspek, music, violin, writing, women, life, NaNoWriMo, reading, rewriting, Self publishing, VIRTUALLY YOURS, VIRTUALLY YOURS FOREVER, womens literature, writers conference, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , Comment

I am armpit deep into a major developmental edit, trying to accomplish most of it before NaNoWriMo, so I really don’t have much time to spew about my life or to wonder about whether or not I’m editing correctly. (I’ve thrown in the Paperclip Method, as well as index cards and handwritten notes, and all I have to show for it is a major headache.) So, instead, I will entertain you with a piece of creative writing, an assignment from the 21 Moments class I took last year.

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The Fish

When you were a baby, I watched you sleep. I had to make absolutely certain you were still alive, still breathing. For hours, I saw your chest rise and fall, your lips slightly parted, two perfect soft hearts lined in violet red. Your eyes twitched with baby dreams. I wondered, what could you possibly be dreaming of, my little boy who had yet to experience life.

I marveled at your skin, so pale and covered in a paler, soft fuzz. A furry caterpillar across your brow, one that rarely moved. The dark hair, so long on one side. Toes and nails of perfect pearl. You were a porcelain doll, a breathing miniature human.

Now I watch you sleep, my heart heavy with concern. Your breathing is labored, not steady. Your skin is stained red, not a healthy rose, but a dull, almost brick color. I couldn’t wake you after a day and a half. Panic filled my chest, one already bursting with worry.

Life is tenuous. It takes very little to tip the scales.

I considered calling the hospital. I won’t bother 911, they’ve already received enough calls from this address. The doctors might say something encouraging, something that will tamp down the alarm.

Your breathing seems suspended, but you’re not holding your breath. It’s shallow, that’s all. I touch your hand; it’s burning. You said you didn’t feel well. Is it sickness, a bug, or something more substantial? I bring soup, but you won’t awaken. I finger my phone, the numbers are typed in, but I don’t hit SEND. Instead, I pray my boy will wake up and talk to me. I hope he will take a sip of the chicken noodle. I pray to God he will give my son a baby dream, so he will dream like he did when he was two months old.

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I am the one person on earth who would never consider myself to be highly intelligent. If I were, I’d probably be a billionaire by now, but we know that’s not happening, so… yeah.

I’m smarter than most, but not smarter than the average bear. This also may be age-related, but I also find it increasingly more and more difficult to see things in their true light. Too many years fogged by repetitious activities. Bad habits are really hard to correct.

Why the morose musings?

Last week, I finally received the complete edit to Virtually Yours Forever. With editorial notes at the end. Finally.

I wish I’d received those editorial notes, oh, say about four months ago, before I deluded myself into thinking this work was ready for prime time.

Oh, well, that’s why I employ my Editor for Life. He’s supposed to slap me around once in a while. (Thank goodness he’s in California, and I’m in Michigan.)

So the bad news is that I have some serious developmental editing to complete.

The good news is that the light bulb finally went off above my head. (This is always good news.) After reading the editorial notes, I went over my outline. Ugh. He was right. Fatal flaws all over the place. It’s all very daunting, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little hard work and elbow grease.

Unfortunately, this past week, I’ve been engaged in a place sans computer or internet. However, I always carry my trusty notebook with me. And a hard copy print out of the MS.

Part of my problem with this novel was the timing was off. As with Virtually Yours, VY4ever takes place in a 30 day time frame. When writing so linearly, it’s best to make use of a calendar.

editsI also employed this method writing Finding Cadence. One can get very lost in a seven-month story.

Doing this allowed me to see where my holes were. I need tighten up the time frame. I’ll keep the same words, just put them closer together, and delete anything that isn’t advancing the story. (There’s a lot of that going on as well.)

The other problem is that some of my moms aren’t carrying their weight. (This is my fault, obviously.) Three of them are shining, the other three – meh. I experienced this problem in writing the first book as well. I *know* my stronger characters very well; it’s the ancillary ones that are difficult, probably because they are so not me. These characters either need some sort of drama to muddle through (oh, how I remember doing this for the first book!) or what I already gave them as problems to be fleshed out a little more. Either way, I have to step outside of myself and give them the attention they deserve.

Smaller problems included changing the age of one of the kids; speeding up and researching snowfall patterns; I’ll also change the names of the celebrities I mentioned who are way-out-there characters in the story line. One, the Real Donald Trump is running for president, and I can’t put him into my book now. Not using that name, anyway. I’ll still need his persona, his helicopter and private jet, and his high rise building, but he’ll be fictional now.

So yes, I have my entire month planned for this edit. I’m still on track (I hope!) to a winter release.


And for some more good news?

I’ve come out with a print version of Virtually Yours, for those of you who are digitally challenged. You can purchase a copy on Amazon, or if you can wait until I receive my shipment, and purchase one directly from me, which of course will be autographed by the author. If you are interested in obtaining a signed copy, please contact me at

jlhuspek [at] msn [dot] com or leave a message here or on Facebook.

Happy reading!

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I have been armpit deep into a major developmental edit for the last eight months. It’s one that has delayed my getting Virtually Yours Forever off the ground and into the query queue for nearly a year.

VIrtually Yours Forever (72dpi 900x600) smallMight be the cover. Not sure yet.

Keep in mind that before I decided to go off the deep end and explore the possibility of adding a parallel plot line and three more characters, I thought the book was done – finished – completed. I’d edited it at least three times with my ED4Life, and ran it by another independent editor for a second opinion just to be on the safe side. (The second opinion was glowing, by the way. And this from a women who had not read the original novel.)

But then came this idea… This crazy idea that would bring the story into current times. That would add a layer of whacky. That might spin off into a screenplay. (Definitely could see this on the screen, oh, yes!)

This story line would need a ring of authenticity, so I enlisted a former employee who happens to work for the Feds to point me in the right direction. He can’t give me specifics, but I hoped he might okay the gist of what I was going for, or reel me in if I was totally off the wall.

And while I think the idea has merit (if I can pull it off), I think my original idea has merit, too. It’s not like there wasn’t enough going on with the Virtual Moms; if anything, their plates were not just full, but overflowing.

Which has lead me to the current train of thought: Can a writer tweak too much?

I know with other areas of the arts, yes, yes, you can fiddle too much. Take painting. You can add and add until your vision is obscured by busy-ness. You can get too close or fret over tiny issues that a random observer isn’t even going to notice.

After all, less is more, right?

On the other hand, an artful layering will be picked up – and appreciated – by discerning eyes.

As artists, we tend to worry about the finished product. Is it ready? Could I have done more? Will people enjoy it?

And so, the conundrum. At some point, you have to trust your heart and your judgement. You have to step back and let it go. Hope for the best, and move on to the next project, because worrying is not productive.

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Yes, I’m still working on my work(s) in progress.


https://www.flickr.com/photos/superfantastic/166215927/in/photolist-fFUcR-qw1igh-9yobFu-9yob4h-ahbVQh-ahbVQU-ahbVPW-eeyY5M-aa63H9-ptwuzW-ahbVQG-ahbVPf-bqnFTw-bWQGU-77SbA2-7xzGd6-tbxSqV-5jg2zy-6FhjJd-9crNam-aiMJT1-7PC8rQ-6PPjpP-37fGU8-6JNJRk-9ykbtx-dSZYCR-25kHDR-4um46A-fmXy7c-e1sxjy-7VmH6t-dkA7nP-9ykakx-4b1hQC-eXezT7-9ykbXK-9yo9XG-9yka4g-gE1Vjn-9yoayw-7F4xRE-4qFJrB-2KwzhL-6JSPuh-brcWkd-dTqn3K-poFQfi-fosJvk-8YS64a

Photo courtesy Creative Commons.

I loved the way she smoked cigarettes.

Yeah, we know smoking is bad for you. Cancer. Heart attack. Tarry kisses tinged in ash. An expensive addiction. It’s a disgusting habit. Yada-yada.

I’d always been enthralled with the way she executed her vice, her movements a poetry. She’d extract the cigarette from the package, using the tips of her long, painted nails, a perfect manicure at the end of long, slender fingers. After the cig had been freed, she’d tap the end of it against the pack gently, one, two, three times – no more – before balancing the stick between her first and second fingers of her right hand. The filter poised near lips that first pouted against entry, but relented. Usually sparks came via someone else’s lighter, but she’d do it herself in a pinch. The first exaggerated draw, a slight escape of smoke from the corner of her mouth, before she sucked it in. After the exhale, she’d extend her right arm away, an ebb of vice, a pregnant pause.

She’d sit pensive after that first puff, her eyes clouded over, her face slack. She’d left our world for her own, perhaps considering what might have been instead of her current reality. Maybe she dreamed of being the mistress of a mansion. I knew Grandma had lived in one, back in the day. She’d told me the stories of the grand staircases, the stained glass, the carved friezes. There had been butlers and maids and flouncy party dresses and all the ice cream you could dream of. But Grandma was gone now, along with the trappings of privilege. We’d been relegated to a matchbox of a house, where the windows leaked air and rain and the kitchen cabinets didn’t shut right because the hinges were bent and rusted. Where worn coats were mended and a full stomach was a guilty pleasure.

“Mama?” I tapped her arm, the free one.

She roused as if from a dream and scowled at me. “What? What do you want now? Can’t I get one minute of peace?” Her words snapped, short and mean, but she held the cigarette with the elegance of a society girl.

“I’m hungry, Mama.”

She glared at me, tapped spent ash onto the tray, before lifting the cigarette to her lips, drawing long. She closed her eyes and journeyed to her faraway place, taking the scenic route to a location without interruptions.

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