How Writing is Very Much Like Painting and Other Arts, Bad News For a Pantser Like Me

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I am currently in the middle of writing the first draft of my fifth (!)* novel.

As with my first effort, Finding Cadence, I’m starting out with a load of vague ideas and a kinda-sorta story line. I have characters, and they all have their own problems (i.e. baggage). I have a situation, which will eventually culminate with a show down of sorts on the biggest, most iconic bridge in America, hell, probably the world (the Golden Gate). Other than that, I have a notebook and a pencil and a bunch of scenes. At this point, I’m letting my imagination do the talking and walking. Somewhere later on, I’ll have to tie these people together and resolve their problems.

This, my friends, is known as the “pantser” method of writing a novel. Being a pantser means you don’t write outlines (because you’ve never been able to stomach them), you don’t use 3×5 cards or sticky notes (because it’s a waste of cardboard and you know how I love trees), and you don’t do any preliminary work, like figure out who your characters are (because you are an artiste and why should you bow to convention?).

Yeeee-ah…

I’ve also written novels using loose outlines and sketched out story lines for my characters way in advance. Consider my Virtually Yours books, where I’ve got a lot of characters and thirty days worth of time to get the story finished a al NaNoWriMo. Thirty days is nothing. I don’t have time to mess around with pretty prose or inner character angst.

Having done both pantsing and outlining, I would agree it’s much easier to proceed when you have a plan. It’s still not foolproof and writing a novel is still daunting, but the work seems to flow more seamlessly.

Writing is a lot like painting a picture. Having done a fair amount of painting (since I was an art major, once, a long time ago), I can say that my best work started out with sketches. Stream of consciousness painting can work, but it’s more like creating without a clue. (It can be done, it’s just a different journey.)

As we all know, I’m a rebel artist. I resist convention. I currently design jewelry, and I’m sassy during class demonstrations.** I have taken pantsing to a new pinnacle when it comes to metals. Me, sketch out a design? You’ve got to be kidding me.***  There is a downside. Oh, if you could only see my scrap-junk-failed projects drawer…

Pantsing is a very interesting way to write a novel. It takes longer and it’s fraught with landmines. You might have to write and rewrite to achieve the desired result.

However, if you’re open to constant change, it is definitely a way of discovering infinite possibilities.

Either way, I’m writing.

__________________________

* I know. Can you believe it? I got from an opening line to a “The End” four frigging times? Unbelievable!

** Ask my teacher, Mary. She will give you an extended run down of what a horrible challenging student I am.

*** That sound you heard was my butt hitting the floor, as I fell of my chair, laughing my ass off.

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Thanking Those Who Have Helped Along the Way

Posted by Joanne Huspek

acknowledgmentsA shot of my Acknowledgments Page, FINDING CADENCE

As a writer, there are some forms of writing that I enjoy more than others.

For example, I relish writing scathing letters to editors and politicians, angry rants to restaurants that have done me wrong, or other customer service related diatribes. That’s because when the emotions are riled, the juices flow easily.

I used to be quite the letter writer back in the day, before the Internet and text messaging. I’d buy beautiful stationery or artistic greeting cards to bleed my feelings onto. Now I don’t have the time to write in this way. (I wonder if Hallmark has experienced a dip in sales???) Thank you, social media, for making my life easier.

And yes of course, I like writing my stories. Writing fiction is the most fun a person can have while sitting in one place.

I don’t mind writing query letters, although thinking about doing so used to give me the willies. Now, writing a synopsis – no, I get no enjoyment at all from that – I don’t know when to stop, and forget about outlines. Can’t stand them, never could.

The one part of the novel I most enjoy writing? It has to be the Acknowledgments page. This is the one page where I can thank everyone who has helped me along the way. After all, not everyone is online, not everyone reads my blog and sweats alongside me while I’m laboring with my stories.

I actually start writing my acknowledgments while I’m working on my novel. In the case of FINDING CADENCE, it was so I wouldn’t forget who helped me, how, and why. This was a novel with many twists and turns, and I had to be reasonably certain that my premise and situations were plausible. I asked for and received so much help along the way. It was a long way, too, and with my advanced age, I tend to forget what I ate yesterday, not to mention who gave me insight or answered my questions. Writing things down is the only way to go.

I’m a very firm believer of paying it forward, and also paying it back. In a world where courtesy and appreciation seem stretched thin, a public display of thanks takes so little time and means so much.

Next up…paying it forward.

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I Can’t Help But To Write What I Know

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I had written a blog post a month or so back (I’d look for it and link it, but it’s Monday and I’m busy and besides that I’m totally lazy) where I had admitted (more or less) that my novels are based on my own personal experiences.

No, not just the experience of the places, or using people I know to sketch characters, but my own experiences that have touched me so deeply that I could not possibly remain unchanged. Love, loss, grief, misunderstandings, the entire gamut of the human condition.

I piled a heap of trouble on my protagonist in Finding Cadence, but I didn’t have to go far to look for conflict. There are stories all around us, ones that burn and chafe and scar, that make us angry enough to eat rusty nails or joyous enough to have us sob like babies. All you have to do is open your eyes and pay attention, and to open your heart and feel, even if the feelings are devastating.

After he’d read my post, my Editor for Life either emailed me or text messaged me back (I can’t remember) with “What? This is you?”

I’ve been working with the man for four years. What could I say?

Well, yes. And, no. And, duh.

I’m not a tall, leggy blond like Cadence, and while my son is a talented pianist, my husband isn’t a trust fund baby who left me nearly destitute when he died. (My husband is still alive, thank you, and in real life grew up poor and struggling.) But these are my options as a storyteller: I get to pick and choose. I get to take a whim of a story and embellish it or tear it down all I want. I get to hide what I know.

It took a long, long, long time to write this story. That’s because Cadence was my first completed novel. I knew what I wanted to say (sort of) but lacked the skills to say them at all, much less with any style and grace. The result was truly God-awful. I spun it past a few editors, one who wanted me to change the entire storyline. I couldn’t go there; I couldn’t envision the ending being any different than it was.

In the meantime, with classes, and reference books, and editors, and beta readers, with writers who helped by slapping me upside the head every once in a while, with conferences and workshops, I managed to weave together a [halfway-decent-if-I-do-say-so-myself] coherent story. Beginning, middle, end. Story arcs. Hidden themes. A reveal at the end. Maybe not “happily ever after” but at least a light at the end of the tunnel and some growth.

In working on the writing craft, I’ve found that telling subsequent stories gets easier. I’m thinking the next novel (about broken souls who end up in San Francisco and mend through their relationships) won’t take two years to finish or five years to edit and re-write.

The point of this convoluted blog post is that I have to write what I know. My own emotion and soul is the only thing I have as an artist. To try to be someone else would not only be foolhardy, it wouldn’t work at all – at least, not for me.

It’s all fiction, yes, but beneath the words you’ll find a thread of truth.

That’s the key. It’s what I know.

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The Indie-Trad Argument, From My Perspective, or Yes, I’m Self-Publishing

Posted by Joanne Huspek

cadence coverThe cover for my new book.

If you want to be thoroughly entertained and crave a shower of fireworks on the Internet, one might be better served to stay away from the political realm and follow authors and agents embroiled in the brouhaha over self vs. traditional publishing (or as Barry Eisler would say, as he did during the 2014 San Francisco Writers Conference, the indies vs. legacy options). It’s a virtual shit show of information and misinformation, competing opinions, mud slinging, happy and less-than-happy endings, spreadsheets produced with dreamy algorithms, and nightmarish anecdotes. Both factions are passionate. Both have valid points. Both are loud and proud.

Beats TV. With. A. Stick. Yes, even House of Cards.

Even with the path fraught with pitfalls of evil operators (including some small presses) who want to drain the unsuspecting writer of every dime they can scrape together, indie publishing is an option that the modern writer can’t take off the table.  “Eyes wide open,” I always say. It is why I have decided to self-publish my next book, Finding Cadence.

It’s not just the successfully indie-published authors like Eisler and Konrath or the Create Spaces and Author Houses who think this way. I’ve spoken to plenty of literary agents, some of whom encourage self-publishing, for various reasons.

My PRO reasons are many, including this brief Cliff Notes version:

1. I have a story to tell. In recent days, I’ve picked the brain of many an artist, including visual artists and musicians. My informal poll shows most artists want their work OUT THERE. Sure, they want gallery time and recording contracts, but reaching that level does not confirm (in their minds anyway) the fact that they are artists. Example: If you create a painting and it sits in your closet, or if you write a song and you never play it in public, is it art? Probably. But art is meant to be enjoyed. If it’s not being enjoyed by a wider public, is it worth the effort?

2. I have limited time with which to get my story out. I’ve read some very depressing stories of late of writers working for twenty years or more before they received a traditional book deal. Twenty years? In twenty years, I’ll be dead, no probablies about it. I’d just as soon begin the next WIP and worry about my next story than to spend that time wishing and hoping and praying for lightning to strike me.

3. The technology is there, why not use it? Back in the day, hell, only ten years ago, e-pubbing and self-publishing books weren’t even options, or they were limited in scope. Aspiring authors had to send out queries, and wait, and wait. And go to church and make offerings to the literary gods. It’s different now. Most people (even dinosaurs like me) are Internet savvy, and if they’re not, there are other people in the world who are. Even after paying for help, in the form of editing services, book cover design, and file conversions, you realize it’s not going to drain the bank.

4. The process is quick. Instead of taking two years from agent deal to finished product on the bookshelves, the indie author can complete the job in two months.

The CONS? There are a few:

1. The stigma of “vanity.” Yes, we’ve all heard the term. Self-publishing equals “vanity” publishing. Vanity publishing calls to mind anyone with a pen (or word processing program) who hastily writes a book and puts it out there for the world to see. Vanity publishing was often full of grammatical errors and/or sported horrific covers. However, the new breed of indie author is different. They’re excellent writers with great stories, and they realize that the finished product reflects on them and the sales of now and future work.

2. It’s nice to have an agent on your side. Yes, having an agent working for you is great validation, and I hope to be on the agented bus soon. Scoring a literary agent is just the first step; next comes selling to a major house. And even though you might have landed an agent, that doesn’t leave you, the writer, to sip scotch while you’re pounding out the next novel. You’re expected to market your work as well. (And remember, days of BIG advances are long gone.)

3. The expenditures of time and money, or “you should get paid for your work, not the other way around.” Yes, it costs a little to self publish. Yes, you’ll be pulling the hair out of your head trying to imagine marketing ploys that won’t leave you looking like a common shill. Yes, writing checks or begging people to buy your book is less than pleasant. I know agented authors who sell 100 books and think this is a good thing. (Yes, it is.) They don’t make enough from writing to quit their day jobs.

4. If you self-publish, you’re just adding your drop to an ocean filled with books, and no one will see your work. Yes, and if you don’t self-publish, no one will have a chance to see your work, EVER. (BTW, the traditionally published authors suffer that same predicament now, competing with a tsunami of books, some of which are interesting and just as entertaining as those traditionally published.)

This is my take: I’ve been writing online for nearly ten years. I’ve gotten paid for some of it, and I’ve not been paid for the rest. If you look at PRO reason #1 above, you’ll see that I’m not writing because I’m thinking I’ll make a windfall from my words. I write because it’s my art of choice.

Does this mean I’m going to stay an indie publisher?

Hell, the no! I’m going to always write, and I’m still going to query what I’ve finished writing. In fact, my dream agent would be Donald Maass and my dream publishing house would be Simon and Schuster. In the meantime, I’ll choose a parallel path and keep to my goal. As long as there are viable options, I might as well explore all of them.

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There’s a Reason I’ve Been Mostly Quiet…

Posted by Joanne Huspek

It has to do with the fact that I’ve been busy getting my novel ready for release.

Can we say “YAY” or SQUEE? Or sympathize and pray for my soul? 🙂

Yes, I’ve decided to publish FINDING CADENCE myself and I’ll go into the reasons why in a later post (I keep saying I’m going to do that, but my notes keep getting larger and larger and I might have to chop my one post into three more manageable ones), but today I will tell you a little about my book by using the world-famous Chuck Wendig’s Ten Questions About [Fill in the Title]. I hope he won’t be mad that I lifted his device from his web site, but I figure if an author can’t answer the ten questions, he/she should probably find another line of work.

So without further ado, I’ll get on it.

1. Tell us about yourself; who are you?

Wife, mother, business owner. I MAKE time to write. I began writing as soon as my mother put a pencil in my hand. (Cliche, I know. She regretted it, especially after I was expelled from Catholic school for…writing.) I enjoyed some local success in high school, some journalistic endeavors in college, 100 pages of a first novel (still in my basement – somewhere).  Then came life and I figured eating and putting a roof over my head was more important than art. Marriage, babies, when the babies went to college, I started writing again. It’s a full circle.

2. Give the 140 character pitch.

Recent widow learns ugly truths about her husband, her best friend and herself. She overcomes financial and personal hurdles to find peace.

3. Where does the story come from?

While obviously the story is fiction, you may pull threads of it from my life. I drew much on what has happened to me, my time in Michigan, Colorado, and my love for San Francisco. How music has played an important role in my life. There are parallels with the son in the story and my own son, both classically trained pianists, both attended the San Francisco Conservatory, both with a soft spot for Rachmaninoff. The list goes on and on, but remember…this is fiction.

4. How is this a story only you could have written?

See #3. Plus I’ve felt that ultimate betrayal in the way Cadie experiences it – enough of a blow where it leaves you incapable of functioning. I wanted to get that across, as well as the healing.

5. What was the hardest thing about writing FINDING CADENCE?

There were many. The first one, getting to “The End.” It took two years. After that, cutting and editing. My first draft was 175K words. It took some convincing for me to see I didn’t need all the words. After that, editing became a matter of tightening.

6. What did you learn by writing this book?

Everything! This was my first completed novel and I made all the rookie mistakes you can think of. I took classes, I bought reference books. Somehow I turned a mindless stream of consciousness blob into a story with an arc, a reveal, and everything!

7. What do you love most about this book?

It’s cohesive and makes sense. It’s a book about adversity and hope. I love how it’s finished (finally!) and I can move on to other projects.

8. What don’t you like about it?

Dare I say it? I don’t know if it’s “literary” enough. I know it shouldn’t matter, I should write my best story and let it go. I went for literary with this one, and don’t know if I succeeded.

9. A favorite paragraph from the story (the fourth paragraph):

Carter, consistently late, would be later still because of the storm. A fine pinot, first a glass, then more, kept me company. Hours of waiting on my husband turned my annoyance to vexation. Outside, my wind chime collection banged hard against the garage wall, the once soothing tinkles replaced with dissonant clatter. I remember thinking, if Jackson were here he could name the pitches of each steel and copper rod, contralto A flats clanging against high C sharps. Behind the discordant score, the wind’s relentless, anguished caterwaul vying for attention.

10. What’s next for you as a storyteller?

I have two completed manuscripts to edit and query. One is Virtually Yours Forever, the sequel to my first novel, and a YA tentatively titled Acorns and Oaks. There are other 100 page starters that beg to be completed too. I’ll be busy, no doubt.

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Hunting and Bagging the Elusive ‘Write’ Time

Posted by Joanne Huspek

It’s Monday, and my Real Life plate runneth over. Our office survived four days of painters, which is no easy task.  (Think trying to paint around an explosion, and you’ll know what the painters had to deal with.) Today’s enrollments are way up (must be between sport seasons, or the fact that the snow is finally melting – now everyone wants to drive). It’s a payroll week. Last Thursday, we got our curriculum approved by the state (finally), so I’ve spent the last three days making manuals – through the obstacle course that was my office full of painters. The house hasn’t seen a thorough cleaning in I don’t know how long, which caused my husband to dust my bookshelves yesterday. It was either that, or the spider building a high-rise cobweb condo was going to make his digs permanent.

When I tell people I write, they wonder how I can squeeze it into my day. I can firmly attest that it’s not easy. Making time to write is like going on a safari. There’s only so much time to get things done.

Writers write. Dreamers talk about it. ~Jerry B. Jenkins

As a writer, you have to do more than WANT to write. That part is easy. The hard part is sitting your butt into a chair and making it happen.

You don’t find time to write. You make time. It’s my job. ~Nora Roberts

The thing I’ve learned since beginning to write again: Writing is a commitment. It’s a flower you have to water, it’s a pet you have to feed. That means daily, people. I find if I skip a day, I feel terrible, like I forgot to breathe.

If you don’t write the book, the book ain’t gonna get written. ~Tom Clancy

Unless you are fabulously wealthy and have gobs of money to live on while you write, you’ll have to work. This means there must be a conscious effort to carve out a niche for your “write” time. For example, I’m doing it right now. I’m taking a half hour break from the disaster that is my life to write this blog post.

A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit. ~Richard Bach

Your “write” time doesn’t have to be hours. You can find it in shorter segments. Right now, I’m doing the Writer Mama 21 Moments, because right now, 250 to 400 words a day is all I can spare. I find myself looking forward to the prompts each day. The upside is that my little moments are shaping up to be the basis of my new novel.

Technique alone is not enough. You have to have passion. Technique alone is just an embroidered potholder. ~Raymond Chandler

It’s true that the more you write, the more you write. I’ve spent the last year in a massive edit. There was an urgency to finalize my work. At first, it was hard to commit to an hour or so (or more) a day in order to see to the end of my goal. With practice, exercising your mind on a regular schedule is much like exercising your body. It gets easier. You get an adrenaline rush.

Writing is hard work; it’s also the best job I’ve ever had. ~Raymond E. Feist

The best thing that a writer, like any other artist, can do is to fill your time with creativity. I’ve given up on most TV. I don’t have time for it. I’d rather fill my head with my own creations, or the creative works of others. If you’re serious about writing, you’ll keep your eye on the prize. Use whatever precious moments you might have to hone your craft. And if you need a word of encouragement, reach out to other writers. Yes, even me!

You’ll find putting yourself on a schedule will be time well spent.

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Writing: On Which I Yield to the Idea of a Muse

Posted by Joanne Huspek

A long, long time ago (holy cow, five years ago!), I wrote this article about kicking my muse to the curb.

Thanks to a workshop at the San Francisco Writers Conference this year, I have changed my mind.

When I first started writing – back in the day when dinosaurs ruled the earth – I subscribed to the idea of a muse. My muses would invariably take the form of human beings. Most likely, they would be human being males that I was romantically involved with, or were men I longed to be involved with, or were guys who had snubbed me and therefore I wrote as a way to beat down my enemies with the power of my words. I’d never really puzzled through the fact that my relationships (i.e. muses) were somehow compelling me to write, that they were responsible for my thoughts. All I knew is that I was most prolific in times of conflict and angst.

As a writer, it’s nice to have a fairy godmother muse to sit on your shoulder. She can tap you with magic dust whenever you need her and voila! you begin to type as though your keyboard is on fire and you only have twenty minutes to get it down before it spontaneously combusts, Mission Impossible style.

Yee-ahhhh… That might work for some people. I happen to be more pragmatic. If I don’t cattle prod myself to write something everyday, I’d never have completed three novels. Which is why I decided back in 2009 to kick my muse to the curb and set a schedule.

Five years after writing that article, I wandered into a SFWC workshop totally by accident (because the workshop I’d wanted to attend was standing room only and I really needed to sit down) with Lisa Tener regarding writing in the zone. She insisted that we must find a muse, and went about describing other writers’ various muses: mice, insects, old men, young children, birds, etc. Dictionary.com’s definition is the goddess or the power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, thinker, or the like.

Our first task was to close our eyes and imagine ourselves going down a path in the woods toward a house where we would then introduce ourselves to our muse. We’d ask for direction and guidance.

(You can imagine here how I reacted. With total skepticism. And with horror, as I had killed off my own muse a long time ago. If I revived my muse, I feared he/she would probably kick my ass in retaliation.)

I decided to humor her and play along, but when I got to the house (invariably located in Golden Gate Park) and opened the door, instead of a room, I walked onto the large plain of Ocean Beach.

I mentioned this, and Lisa said, “Yes! That’s good. Water can be a great muse, and the ocean is vast.” Whodathunkit?

Later on, as I was sorting through my handouts of the day, I thought about using the ocean as a muse. Haven’t I been doing it all along? Isn’t that why I return to San Francisco on a regular basis? To stay by the beach, walk near the water, fight a biting wind, collect my thoughts? Isn’t this where my stories are born? My attachment is so great, I’ve used the photo of the Richmond, taken from the beach, on my blog. This photograph has been enlarged and framed and hangs over my bed, so when I feel a need to connect to Ocean Beach, I can look at it whenever I want.

I might have wanted to deny my muse, but I will no more. After all, it’s been there the whole time.

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