Time to Get Busy!

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Summer is OVER!

No, you don’t get it. Summer is soooooo over… I’m so loving it.

Most of you know we run a business. Heck, I’d be a bag lady if I had to rely on writing for a living, so I have to do something. Even with my talents in other areas (jewelry, gardening, art, etc.), these pursuits are not to be relied upon to provide a box of macaroni and cheese at the end of the day. Summer is our business’s bread and butter – and pickles, and steak and lobster, and cereal and ice cream – and we have to use those receipts to live on the rest of the year.

You don’t know how many times during a cold and wintry (and cash-strapped) January that my husband emerges from his office shaking his head, saying “I’ve got to sell the motorcycle (or insert large object of his affection here) to pay the taxes (or college tuition or insert other large ticket item here).”

So when the going is sweet and cash is flush, we attack it will all the gusto two persons of our middle age can stand. It’s been raucous, it’s been crazy, it’s been seven days a week for the last three months.

The rush is officially over. Now my adult children are back on the Left Coast, leaving me with a quiet, clean house. Tthe teenagers are back in school, and I actually have a minute to breathe. I’ve also been able to finish the books I started reading back in May, so reviews are forthcoming.

And I’ve been doing a very good job of sticking to writing. Staying away from the time-sucking social media has helped. You know I love you, Facebook and Twitter, but I can’t get a thing done if you’re on my desktop! So instead of following my gaggle of interesting peeps, I’ve been holed up in my bedroom plotting out new twists and turns.

More later. I’ve got to get back to work.

 

Posted in editing, music, violin, writing, women, life, NaNoWriMo, people, rewriting, Uncategorized, womens literature, writing Comment

A Farewell to Borders

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Last week, I decided to make a trip to Borders and pay my final respects. Actually, I wanted to see if all the publicized horror stories reported in the papers were true: That a trip to Borders was like watching a ghost town appear right before your eyes, that the remaining employees were zombies with the customer service helpfulness sucked right out of them, that the sad sales floor resembled a pool of piranha circling in anticipation of the last 75% sign to go up.

I have to report that none of the above were true.

Certainly, my local, favorite Borders in Birmingham is the upscale, flagship store. Two stories, brick and glass, roomy, it had a kick-ass coffee bar and lots of comfortable chairs. Although southeastern Michigan suffers in this bad economy (and suffers, and suffers some more), the stores and the people of Birmingham have yet to get the memo on the recession. The Birmingham Borders has always teemed with customers, the parking lot just as full in the middle of July as it is during the Christmas rush, when I’ve witnessed car wars for spots and the resultant fender-bending crashes.

Borders was stuffed full of customers the other day when I went to bid farewell.

Okay. I know. I don’t need more books. With a “To Read” list towering over me, threatening to topple and break my leg, what I really need is time to finish reading everything I have set out to read. I entered Borders with the sole intent of taking a short trip around both floors and maybe scoring a few pretty notebooks for my purse.

Somehow, I got caught up in a mood. Not a sober mood, but a celebratory mood. I wasn’t sure if I should feel embarrassed, or if I should join in. Have you ever been to a funeral service where people are laughing and having a good time? You want to remember the good times, but you also want to maintain an air of somber respect.

This was the Birmingham Borders last week.

So the coffee bar was shut down. So the books were pulled into the center of the store and the store fixtures stacked on top of each other. So the computer screens were dimmed. You’d never know a fire sale was going on in the face of impending bankruptcy. I’d never seen so many families with young children poring over books. So many older couples holding hands, their baskets full of books. Even the single shoppers like me were picking up the books, running our hands over the spines, checking out the covers and blurbs. (I myself prefer a physical book over the electronic kind, as I find reading from the page easier on my eyes.) Perhaps our rapture was over the discounts (at 20 – 40%, not exactly deep), or maybe it was because we all loved the books.

Which led me to wonder, especially in a high-revenue store like the one in Birmingham – WHAD HAPPENED??? At one time, a big-box company like Borders was going to eat up all the small booksellers. Independent book sellers, while a staple in trendy places like New York City or San Francisco, are like finding the proverbial hen’s tooth in metro Detroit.

It was only a few months ago that Borders (based in Ann Arbor) announced they would be moving to downtown Detroit as a cost-cutting measure. That announcement brought hope – something like the hope before chemo. Now all we have is the wake before the burial.

As for me, I came away with more than a few pretty journals. I bought several classic books I had wanted to re-read but didn’t have in my library. I bought some 2012 calendars, hoping that next year will be better for book sellers, authors and readers. I bought some light, trashy romance novels. I figured I needed a happy ending where girl gets guy and both ride off into the sunset.

Then I went home and tried to figure out where the nearest Barnes and Noble is, and prayed for their continued existence in the modern world.

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Monday Morning Mash-Up

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I AM A LAZY WRITER!

Okay, maybe I’m not lazy, but I have the procrastination moves down pat. Okay, maybe I’m not the World’s Biggest Writing Procrastinator, maybe I have Writing ADD.

Nope. I’m lazy.

Why do I say this? The Internet tells me so.

Maybe not in so many words… The one good thing about being a writer and having access to the Internet is Monday morning. Honestly, I could turn off my computer the other six days, and Monday would be the key I’d want to waste my online time on.

(Of course, I’d have to adjust that rule for Donald Maass’s Tuesday Twittering. For a minute.)

I started this post last Monday before life got crazy; however, it’s not any different this Monday. For example, here’s a really good article on self-publishing by Bob Mayer, who’s one of my new writing gods. And for all you sh**** writers out there, there’s this article on the slash and burn. And of course, since I’m in the revise and revisit mode of my novel, this article likening the process to the infestation of bedbugs makes for an interesting read.

And the twitterverse is buzzing over BookEnds strategy for e-pubbing. Lots of comments on that one, folks.

For a wry look at the writing process, one can always find a laugh or two, and a gem of knowledge, from the Rejectionist.

Monday morning has now morphed into Monday afternoon (a scorchingly hot Monday afternoon), so I’ll take this moment to shut down the salt mine and go for a few hours of writing time – in air conditioned comfort.

See. I’m not really lazy. Just overwhelmed.

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Writing Outside the Lines

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Just when Real Life sucks all the energy out of your Writing Life, Real Life II comes crashing in like a hippo in a bakery and totally flattens all of your cupcakes.

Really.

One of my other “hobbies” is making jewelry. I’ve always been an artist, and doing any number of things with my hands is a necessary part of my day. I play guitar and violin (poorly), have always drawn, painted, thrown pottery, written poems and stories, knit and crocheted, sewn…well, you get the picture.

This year, I joined the Michigan Silversmith Guild and am displaying my vast collection (nearly two years’ worth) of twisted and wired creations during the upcoming Ann Arbor Art Fair. I am hoping to unload enough to at least come out even on what I spent in supplies. For those who know me, my passions are not performed out of love of money, but love of the art. So…I’m not holding my breath. If I can recoup some of my investment, I’ll be happy. If not, c’est la vie.

I’ve spent the last month or so shining up my baubles, cataloging them on a spreadsheet, tagging them with microscopic tags and placing them in teeny-tiny plastic bags in anticipation of the show next weekend.

And of course, it’s been hot, and of course it’s been busy, and of course, other things happen that can knock a writer off course.

Like having a friend die. Death is awful, and there’s been a lot of it in my life lately, and this wasn’t exactly news. The death wasn’t as bad as having to see the body before the hospital removed it from the room to the morgue. In a word: awful. But I’m always shaking out the cloud to see what the lining looks like. Silver, yes. I can use some of my experiences of the last couple of weeks in my writing.

All of this Real Life discord is in the past (I hope). So now to writing.

In addition to all of the projects I have on the front and back burners, I have decided to write a paranormal romance short story. Before you say, “But you don’t know how to write a paranormal romance!” let me say this: Sometimes it’s good for a writer to think outside the pen.

That’s right, scribble in the margins. Take two lines instead of one, or write two lines on one blue ruled line. Use a red Sharpie. Write outside the lines. Explore.

I recently took Jeremy Shipp’s writing class (again). Jeremy Shipp writes fantasy, and most of the people who took the class write fantasy. I write mom-lit, an older version of chick-lit, meaning sassy female situations with children. So why did I feel the compulsion (twice) to take a writing class from an author who doesn’t write in my genre?

Because he’s good!

Let’s face it. A good writing coach can help you no matter the genre. A good writing exercise can open up a world of possibilities you might not have thought possible otherwise. It really doesn’t matter if the exercise has anything to do with your genre. Reading a variety of books can be just as enlightening, once you deconstruct what makes the book good.

That’s why I decided I would branch out when it comes to reading. I read my first paranormal romance this year. I had never before been drawn to the idea of vampires, blood-suckers, or dead people, but was given a book and took it out for a spin.

I found I liked it.

Back to the paranormal romance: It’s not my genre of choice, in fact, I don’t think of my “usual” writing as being romance (though there are romantic elements at play) but I decided to give myself an exercise.

It’s coming along nicely.

Perhaps I should stick with what I do best, but it’s good to stretch your wings and push the envelop a little. You never know what you’ll find on the other side of the flap.

Now if I could find time to finish the other works in progress, I might have a nice little library.

Posted in editing, music, violin, writing, women, life, NaNoWriMo, rewriting, womens literature, writing 2 Comments

The Story Within The Story

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I come from a very large family, with lots of siblings and even more cousins. Even though my sisters and brother and I shared the same parents (and my cousins the same grandparents), our view of our collective upbringing varies wildly. I notice this more now that I have children of my own. There’s only two of them, but according to them, their childhoods couldn’t be more different. When I get together with my sibs and relive old times, it’s like conversing with five strangers.

I’ve noticed the same with those in my high school class. Some are new friends, connected late in life by Facebook and reunion dinners. Others I’ve been friends with since the very beginning. No matter what the history, our recollections can be unique, if we can remember them at all.

We’re all different, and our stories are different, even though the principals and the plot are the same. Even though we live through the same crisis, at the same time, our brains will never see the same facts in the same way.

A good novel weaves the stories of all of its characters seamlessly, not just the antics of the protag and the antagonist. I’d never noticed the careful crafting of a good book before; I was too busy enjoying myself to take it apart, but there are typically stories within the story, interwoven like a hand-loomed sweater. You need all those loops, not just the main show.

I used to rather stupidly write from the top of my head, with little forethought to plot or character development or story lines or arcs. Hell’s bells, I was on a tear. Who had time to think? I was writing as fast as I could. Those “minor” components could be added later, tweaked and polished once the words “The End” came into view. (Boy, was I a rube!)

I now realize (after a lot of revision and editing and plot changes on the first two stories) that it’s a whole lot easier to begin plotting and character development before you sit down at the computer and begin pounding out dialogue.

Last summer, Mr. Ed gave me a series of assignments to complete before he began editing. One was to describe each character and their story. He knew each was unique, but they all came out sounding like…ME. (All of them are me, but they’re also not.)

My first thought was “Oh, come on. You can’t see them? One’s overweight, one’s a beauty queen, one’s gay, one’s down-home and honest. One’s a gadabout, one’s a middle-aged mom. You can’t see that?”

NO, he couldn’t see them that way, mostly because I hadn’t written them that way. I knew who they were and what they were doing, but no one else could see them. In deconstructing the characters, I realized I hadn’t really seen them in the way I wanted them to appear. That’s because I took the lazy-man’s way out of it and told more than I showed.

Boring.

In the last week, I’ve taken my other WIPs and done the same thing: List the cast of characters and write a sentence or two about their story. Because, you know, their view of the proceedings has necessarily got to be different than my protag. They’re not just pawns on the chessboard; they all have stories of their own. I wrote each in long-hand in my notebook (ecosystem – I’m cured from Moleskine), and when I forget about a personality quirk or trait and it all melds together, I can open it up and find my true characters.

It was a good exercise. Now back to writing.

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Shot Down in Flames and Archives

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Let me preface this post by inserting this:

Of course, this particular song about being shot down in flames has absolutely nothing to do with writing, querying, rewriting, the publishing world, or literary agents. It’s an awfully happy song about a man looking for lust in all the wrong places, and being a horse’s ass while doing it. Let’s say I need a pick-me-up right about now, so I chose this wonderful piece of early AC/DC. (I’m a closet AC/DC fan, of the works before Bonn Scott died. I know; it doesn’t really mesh with the Bach Partita side of me. What can I say? I’m multi-cultural.)

Yes, readers, non-readers, writers and those who don’t really care, I have received yet another rejection letter today. That makes two this week. Woo-hoo!

I would cry, but I’d rather not think about rejection at this point. Besides, it’s hard to justify any rumination of auto-responses. Why waste the time?

I’ve been having a hard time lately writing. ANYTHING. I don’t even open my checkbook, and I have no ATM card, so if you can imagine being in the mindset of cleaning out the car for spare change – yes, that’s me. I missed two CITIcard payments in a row. But, things are improving. Last week, I wrote a rather scathing letter to American Airlines and mailed it to their Dallas headquarters. For my two attempts at expressing my dissatisfaction, they sent me two eVouchers.

I need approximately five eVouchers in order to feel better. Back to the drawing board.

Yesterday, I left work early and decided to write. After my latest critique group get together, I realized I have so many pots on the stove, nothing is getting cooked.

So I started by opening up some files that haven’t seen the light of day in months. And I discovered a few things:

1. I totally forgot some of the stories I wrote. Swear to God! As I was reading, I realized that some of them aren’t half bad. Some are pretty humorous. Some don’t even sound like me, but I know they’re mine, because no one else is writing for me. Working the archives was like cleaning the closet; there in the back recesses where the centipedes live, is a pair of flawlessly stitched, perfect pumps. Next to them is a cute chemise with the tags still on them. And next to that is a purse I’d forgotten I owned. My computer is much like my messy closet. It’s the gold mine! or at least a pyrite mine! of unique ideas and sassy words and scenes strung together with a little more than glue and duct tape.

I realized I needed to get off my lazy, sorry, fat, unsympathetic ass and get moving. Luckily for me (and thanks to my Mr. Ed), I have acquired all kinds of strategies for mapping out my stories. These include writing them down in my trusty notebooks.

I’m so much farther ahead now than I was a year or so ago. 🙂

2. Dr. Wicked is a freaking genius. I feel like PayPaling him again, just to properly convey my appreciation.

3. Friends are priceless. Writing friends, even more so.

Now I’m going back into the archives. You never know what you’ll pull up.

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A Random Thought: The Elevator Picture

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I sign up for a variety of email blasts, most having to do with writing or writers, but some having to do with business or music. The nice thing about email blasts is that I can pick and choose which to read, and don’t have to write myself sticky notes on which web sites to visit on a regular basis.

One of my favorites is the weekly e-zine sent out by Jeffrey Gitomer. I signed up after purchasing a copy of his LITTLE GOLD BOOK OF YES! ATTITUDE, at the San Francisco Airport. What is funny is at the time, I hadn’t even started writing my first novel. Now that I think about it, I began writing the first novel on the plane ride home from that particular trip, probably minutes after finishing the book.

The most notable Jeffrey Gitomer trait is that he is enthusiastic. I’ve read many of his books since that day in 2007, and dare I say it, the man is never, ever down. A tiny book, like his green, red and black books, it’s packed with a lot of heart-thumping yet congenial energy. You can’t help but be swept into his positivity. Life might have pitfalls, but with a few tweaks and attitude adjustments, we can overcome!

The YES! attitude is a quality that translates across all lines in one’s life, be it business, relationships, children, and yes…even writing. I can be a cynic, a bitch, a naysayer, a purveyor of doom and gloom, yet once a week, Jeffrey Gitomer bumps me back into a positive rail.

Today’s Gitomer newsletter included an intriguing article on elevator pictures. As writers, we all know about the dreaded elevator pitch. The elevator pitch is also a standard with salesmen, which might explain why I never went into sales. Being naked in front of a bunch of people is not one of the things I like to do, and there is nothing that more closely resembles naked vulnerability than an elevator pitch.

The first time I tried speed dating with a bunch of highly regarded and therefore intimidating literary agents, I landed ker-plop on my face, with egg and everything else on it. Elevator pitching is all about confidence, a succinct delivery, and something about you that makes you memorable.

The actual pitch and the working it down to twenty-five of the most powerful, compelling words you’d ever want to regal an agent with is the easy part, in my opinion. You can critique your pitch with your writing friends, or pick up Katharine Sands’ book (or hear her speak, she’s phenomenal!) and work your pitch over until it’s sleek and, in her words, “POPS!”

Confidence can only be generated by the author (meaning YOU!) so if you’re not feeling it, perhaps you’d better look your work over and revise and edit until you DO feel it.

As for personal memorability: I recall discussing my first pitch-fears with a noted online author. “What do I do?” His reply was to wear a low-cut red dress. I opted for red, but decided to leave out the low-cut. I’m selling a book, not my services. But it did lead me to wonder…these agents see hundreds of hopefuls at dozens of conferences every year. What is it that makes me stand out among the rest?

The answer most “writers” would want me to say is The Story, stupid. But, wait…no! Like those copier, pharmaceutical, or siding salesmen, it’s not just the product. Think about it; I know I have chosen plumbers and car dealers not only because of the service or product, but also because of the personality of the salesman. It’s the “je ne sais quois” that gets the business every time.

After following agents on Twitter for a year, I gather that they’re not only looking for the next great book, they’re looking for an author who would make their job easy by having the personality to sell, to become a wag, to be memorable as well as prolific. While I don’t know the percentage of published authors who were picked up at a conference during an elevator pitch, I do know that a sparkling pitch followed by a stellar manuscript equals an author whose personality naturally bubbles.

Back to Andy Horner’s article on elevator pictures: Taking this concept to the realm of the agent-writer elevator might not be such a bad idea. And it’s not just the red, low-cut dress or the Steampunk jewelry. People these days have a limited capacity for words, especially in a world full of computers and smartphones, YouTube and Twitter. According to him, words are just too “2D” for most people.

I’m not going to share any of my ideas for the elevator pitch of the 21st Century, but I can tell you that my future pitch just might include pictures.

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