A Break from the Break in the Clouds

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Wednesday began a temporary break in the clouds, one that has somehow persisted until this morning. Among my other titles and duties, I am a guerrilla urban gardener, meaning I would rather water things I can eat than I would water grass. It is almost Mother’s Day, and as of Wednesday, I had very little in the ground. By this time last year, all the tomatoes were in, everything mulched, and I was sitting on the deck with a glass of wine in hand. This year my gardening duties have been curtailed by daily precipitation. I cannot garden in the wet, and I sure as heck am not going out in the cold and wet.

During the brief respite of sun and blue sky, I decided to get busy. Who knows, it could snow tomorrow. This is Michigan; anything can happen. While I was mowing my front yard and planting potatoes, I nearly missed that I had placed as a finalist in an online contest. That’s right, I entered a 25 word or less pitch contest, and was one of three who placed! But I wouldn’t have known but for reading my email.

My writing is many things, but being succinct is not one of those virtues I have picked up in my many years on this planet. (Okay… I’m looking over this sentence with serious slashing in the back of my head, but I’m leaving it just to make a point.) I find it difficult to summarize my work in a paragraph or two, and to cut it down to 50 words is 1. heartbreaking and 2. grueling. It can be done (and has been done) but perfect pitches (some say, or anything else I try to do) are so, so, SO hard for me.

I thought I had a snowball’s chance in hell with this contest, but what the hey? You don’t know until you try.

To break down my 96K novel into 25 words? I’m amazed I could accomplish it within the prescribed time, and flabbergasted that my meager offering was one out of 50 (FIFTY!) that managed to catch the eye of the Mystery Agent.

Soo… The synopsis is sent, the first 30 pages, and my fingers are crossed yet again.

And now I see there is another break in the clouds, so I’m off to the nursery to purchase seedlings. Have a great Mother’s Day.

Posted in editing, music, violin, writing, women, life, people, rewriting, womens literature, writing | Tagged , , , , , 2 Comments

Storms in Your Brain Are Helpful When Shared

Posted by Joanne Huspek

For those of you who have been following me (or not), I’ve been laboring over my first novel. First it was to eliminate those pesky adverbs. Then I had to cut down the usage of “family” from ten thousand times in 510 pages to a couple dozen times. Then it was to cut down the 510 pages and 175K words into something more manageable – and palatable – like 100K words.

Now I’m into changing parts two and three. Developmental changes, oy vay.

Part one isn’t so bad. It’s horrible for my character, and probably still too purple-prosey and too long, but it’s one helluva lot better than the original. Now, however, I have to take my main character and somehow have to dig her out of her quicksand.

This isn’t as easy as it sounds. I’ve been reading various novels for inspiration, one a weekend, and trying to gain some insight as to the process of weaving stories and subplots into my own story.

This was easier to do in a novel like Virtually Yours. There I had seven people who were tied together in friendship, all over the country but with individual stories paralleling the main plot. It took a little plotting, and I may be wrong, but I found the process of laying out the book much easier in that case.

When you have a first-person novel like Finding Cadence, it’s different. You are working in one voice, one point of view. It can be done, but revealing the underlying threads is a much more difficult task. This book isn’t so much about situations, it’s about the inside(s) of the heads of the people involved.

This is where brainstorming really helps. My critique group was quite helpful. They were awed by the first part, but the first couple of chapters of the second part were too depressing, the MC becoming so much of a drag that they began not to like her anymore. I don’t need assistance with grammar; I need a major shift in plot.

I’ve seen it done on Twitter. I follow a writer who posts her plots as though she’s talking out loud. Some people respond, too! It’s interesting to watch.

Other writers – especially those who don’t know you very well, or even those who do – are extremely helpful, and not just for the technical expertise. Even if you don’t give them the actual novel to consume, because let’s face it, we’re all busy – writing, of course! – you can kick around different scenarios with fellow writers. “What if this happens? What would be the reaction?”

Brainstorming is necessary. We as artists are too close to our work, and the perspective of fresh eyes is always a positive thing. You just can’t use the excuse “But this happened in real life!” It might have, but honestly, real life is rather boring.

And so yesterday afternoon, in between planting potatoes and waiting for the appliance repairman to fix my half-working cook top, I decided to email Mr. Ed and run my problem by him. He’s a nice guy and I warned him I was looking for free advice. My Cadence needs a turning point, an ‘ah-ha’ moment, something that will get her off her duff to begin making positive steps toward growth. Her story needs strong threads interwoven so that she will rise victorious and become likeable.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I can tell you this: the exchange was invigorating! It made me think, and gave me the ambition to forge ahead. Forging is good. I, like Cadence, was stuck in a quagmire.

Time to escape.

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I’m BAAAcck! I’m Back in the Saddle Again

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Ebbs and tides. This is life, and this is the writing life.

They say once you know how to ride a bicycle, you can always get on one and ride away into the sunset. I’m not sure I want to try it on my bicycle, which hasn’t been out of the garage since 2004 when we moved here, but such a plan certainly works with words.

Last night, my dog, the fabulous Princess Grace, was having severe gastro disturbances resulting in a very messy house. Coincidentally, my protag, Ashe, finds the family dog Jim Bob in a similar physical state after he (the hound) devours a dinner of honey buns AND barbecue sauce. Ashe has a fastidious brother to clean up the mess; I had the hubby.

During this fiasco, I was struck by an amazing solution to my first chapter problem.

I’m going to write it like my final chapter! Which, for those of you who haven’t read the book (since I want a few people to actually buy the book), is a series of email sent by my characters which wraps up the loose ends and suggests other plots and twists for the sequel(s).

My first chapter of yore contained a chat room exchange which many (including a great number of agents) found too confusing to read. This was done in order to introduce the characters to the world, but instead resulted in being a lot of noise which did very little to advance the story. I’m going to give it a good stab, but I think visually and psychically, this might be the way to go.

So… dear friends, I am technically back in the saddle again. Once I dust off this major change, I might rant about the economy.

Now for your listening enjoyment, let me include the following:

Gene Autry, for my gentler readers.

And Steven Tyler, who rocked then and rocks now.

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To Borrow a Line from My Other Blog: It’s My Pity Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To

Posted by Joanne Huspek

The one good thing about being a writer: You get to make up all kinds of stuff in your head, transfer it to the written word, and glory in your obvious gift of converting language into entertainment.

The one bad thing about being a writer: Real Life.

Real Life has taken the wind out of my sails in the last ten days. There is the impending death of a family member – no picnic, to be sure; spring, when the yard beckons for attention; summer, when the Real Job heats up; and the antics of my children (yes, even though they are grown – responsibility doesn’t lessen, it just morphs into a different monster). So I have not been writing as much as I should.

I like writing, really I do. I’ve done it continuously since my mother handed me my first pencil. However, my mother was not a fan. I leaned toward scathing pieces from the get-go. In fact, a little known ironic anecdote: I was thrown out of Catholic school for a little story I wrote on a dare. I have always pushed the envelope.

My mother gave me a Remington typewriter that weighed about 25 pounds for my high school graduation, wished me well, and advised me to “stop writing stuff that makes people angry.” Then I entered my twenties, went to college, and partied a little too hard. No direction. My very first novel typed on that very same typewriter sits in a box in my basement somewhere. No, it’s not complete. I ran out of steam after 100 pages or so.

Being an adult means making choices, like working to eat. I did that. I got married. I had kids. I love my family, but Real Life really sucks the time away from the creative side. So what did I do? Made time for me. It was easier to do when the kids didn’t need me as much. Before that, I felt guilt for being selfish.

And so started art classes and writing. I’m totally amazed that I have completed two novels. Two entire books with the words “The End” at the bottom of the last page. This is epic, my friends. I have so many balls up in the air, it’s a miracle I can complete anything.

My first completed novel needs major work. The second has been majorly worked on, and I thought it was ready for submission. I thought I was ready for the standard rejection. There are literally thousands of people writing novels and only a small percentage ever snag an agent or ever get published in the traditional sense. These facts made for a nice buffer, and I’ve been handling my “sorry, not what we’re looking for” s with aplomb.

This week’s rejection was different.

I was told my novel concept might be too novel to be published. (I agree, it’s different. But too unusual to be published? That was crushing.)

Huh. I then went into Pity Party mode. For about a minute and a half. (Okay, a day and a half.) I ate a lot of fast food and chased it with chocolate and soft drinks. While chocolate is a writer’s best friend, fast food and soft drinks aren’t usually on my radar. I now have a pimple the size of a quarter (location kept secret because it’s quite embarrassing) for all of my gluttony.

I [psychically] cried about several things, including my rejection(s), my fence falling down, the state of the economy, the absence of the wire wrap teacher (because I like her and she’s funny but she has a broken toe and hasn’t been to class in a couple of months), our tax bill this year, and the fact that every weekend it’s been rainy and cold instead of warm and sunny. I also pitched a fit about my muffin top, my husband’s office (still looks like a bomb exploded), and some of my lesser favorite employees.

When I came out of my funk, I started writing. I also started reading. Here is an amazing blog post about failure. Son of a gun, but that was timely. Here is another about manufacturing writing time. Thank you, I needed that. Then a writing friend sent me this link, which caused me to laugh heartily. Of course there is the famed Rejectionist, whose current post has more to do with fashion than being rejected. I liked that.

That being said, the Pity Party is officially over. It’s time to get busy.

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The Dreaded Re-Write Strikes Again… and Again

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Last week, I sent no query letters out for the review of discerning agents. Why? Well, after letting a couple (three, four) writers read the first chapter of VIRTUALLY YOURS, I decided it needed more PoP! more ZiNg! A better FiRsT sEnTeNcE!

So yes, Mr. Ed. While I’m taking your many months of insight, collaboration, and experience to heart, I’m afraid I’m going to have to go against your recommendation. Only on the first chapter. The elements will remain, but my first page is going to WoW!

On the other book: FINDING CADENCE will suffer yet another re-write. This is because my other editor thinks it’s not good enough. I agree. I think I have captured the angst, the pain and suffering, and laid down so many pitfalls, I should have named my character Pauline. But somehow I have to turn it around and make her stronger.

I’m finding it a difficult task. I’m not used to writing outlines for books (I normally start typing and keep going until I have something tangible to play with), and mine sucked Big Time. The conundrum. What is my turning point? When does my character get good and mad and when will she fight back?

I also need some good guys. I’m no man-hater, but I certainly have the Horrible Guy down pat.  Perhaps my vision of them is rather clear. I also enjoy reading about bad boys – love that dangerous quality, I guess. I have a Nice Guy for a husband; maybe I should study him for a while.

As for Clementine, I’ve given her two potential love interests, even though she is not really interested (so she says) in love. I’m thinking she needs some conflict between her and her best friend, Maya. She’s the unlikely cupcake business partner, especially since she is allergic to frosting.

And, I’m short not one, but two people today at the Real Life job. Not only that, but this week is our state’s spring break for high school students. This is a deadly combination, folks. I’ve already had problems up the wazoo, and it’s not even noon yet.

Back to writing. I will be chipping at it ever so slowly today.

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A Lesson in Courtesy, and I Didn’t Even Have to Participate

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Rich Text Article first published as A Lesson in Courtesy, and I Didn’t Even Have to Participate on Blogcritics.

What a dust up in the blogosphere this week! We’ve seen these train wrecks before, but never on the scale of this.

For those of you who wants the Cliff Notes version, Big Al reviews books available on Kindle. Many books available on Kindle are self-pubs, or e-pubs. I imagine in the world of self-pubs, there are good books and bad books, just as there are in print form. His review of Jacqueline Howlett’s The Greek Seaman, caused the author to appear on his comment thread. She spewed expletives, and while 1. this is the Internet, and 2. I have no sound on my computer, I could literally hear her screeching.

We’ve seen this before: authors getting worked up and ornery over reviews. While I understand the burning need to defend oneself and the work of art (i.e. baby) they have created, starting an online flame war is not likely to win many friends and influence people. At least, not toward the positive.

It took an hour for me to read the comments, many of which were entertaining. I did not comment. What else is there to say?

Like Big Al, I sometimes write book reviews and I sometimes receive free copies of books from publishing houses. Unlike Big Al, my mantra is, if I can’t write a gushingly positive review, I’ll write no review at all. Not that Big Al’s review of Ms. Howlett’s work was all that scathing. A review is a subjective thing, as are books. There are books I’ve read and wondered “How the hell did this get on the New York Times bestseller list?” There are others that I tweet and review and push on my friends and employees, because those books are great and seem to get no press at all.

Big Al pointed out the flaws in Ms. Howlett’s books, and he did so without malice. It seemed a rather tame review. Even in subsequent comments, he maintained a level of professionalism he should be congratulated for.

On the other hand… Jacqueline Howlett has caused an Internet splash and held more than fifteen minutes of fame, but nothing good will come from it. If she ever approaches an agent or publishing house, the first thing the respondent will do is Google her. (Don’t you? I do all the time.) Nothing is ever erased from the Internet, no matter how you back-pedal or delete. Unless she changes her name, this eruption of bad behavior will likely follow her for the rest of her life.

Let this be a lesson in courtesy, for writers and everyone else in the world. Some people might like what you do, might like who you are, might agree with your political leanings or your choice of rap star versus Justin Bieber. They might prefer the way their mother cooks roast beef and not Arby’s, they may feel loyalty to American cars over foreign brands, or they may want to live in the woods with the bears instead of in the city.

Artists are entitled (sometimes compelled) to create. Once you put it out there, it’s there for the world to see. It had better be perfect (which is why I haven’t e-pubbed anything – yet). Once released, you lose your right to be indignant over subsequent comments.

Authors should keep in mind these things when it comes to critique and reviews:

1. It’s not personal. Not unless your mother or your ex-husband is the reviewer and you can prove it’s personal, let it go.

2. Grow a thick skin, because if you’re on the Internet, you’re going to need it. Not everyone loves you, not online, not in Real Life.

3. Keep your mouth shut. Someone likes your work. And even if no one on the planet likes your work, YOU do. If you don’t have faith in your work, you might as well go back to your day job.

4. If you find a burning urge to debate your opinion, do so privately. Public displays are great for us rubber-neckers, but not so good for you.

5. For God’s sake, DO NOT use the *F* word in comment threads, particularly if you’re a writer. A sprinkling here and there in a manuscript is one thing, but a writer should be able to come up with a more genteel metaphor. As in the Real World, overuse of the word does not make you look cool – it makes you look crass, uneducated, and rough.

Finally, consider your critique to be an aid to making the next piece better. Big Al brought up some very valid points regarding grammar, spelling, and purple prose that would likely help Ms. Howlett with her next project.

If she listens.

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My Second Million Words

Posted by Joanne Huspek

I know this post is totally off the wall. I’m procrastinating. I should be writing an outline. 🙂

I know a writer who is very mathematical when it comes to her stories and novels. She uses spreadsheets to map out how many words each chapter contains, and strives to have each one uniform, with almost the same amount of words or pages.

She knows exactly how many words are on each page, and how many she writes in a day. Using a spreadsheet, she can easily add up all the words she has ever written.

I’m not quite that logical. In fact, some of my chapters are considerably smaller than others. Some of my articles are considerably longer, especially if I get on a tear and really start to rant.

They (who?) say your second million words are better than your first million. The first million is mostly crap, as I can attest. I suppose this theory is based in part on Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers. This book explores the premise that in order to be good at anything, one must practice the activity for at least 10,000 hours. Roughly speaking, at 40 hours a week, that’s about ten years of work.

Translated to writing (I only WISH I had 40 hours a week to write!), a prolific writer might hit a million words in a few years. I decided to add up my words while waiting for a guy to give me a quote on replacing my fence.

While blogging at the ominous Orange Haze at the far end of the Internet, I probably wrote 1,000 words a day, sometimes more, sometimes less. In a little more than two years, I figure my word count for the Orange Bubble was around 500K. When I look back, much of it was not very “literary” but it was awfully damned fun.

Add to the early blogging one very large, epic, and completely unreadable novel of 175K, another around 100K, and a novella of 40K, and three WIP in the 20-40K range (they are all related to each other, so I’m doing them in tandem), my blog here, my work elsewhere, and we are talking about a substantial pile of words. If you toss on that stack everything I’ve ever written, including the folk songs of the 1970s, the 900 love letters of the 1980s (to my husband), and the myriad of letters to teachers excusing my kids for orthodontia and begging their forgiveness for my kids’ rowdiness in the 1990s, I’m fairly confident that my lifetime total word count is well over a million.

*sigh*

Now that it’s been established that I’m on my second million words, I think it’s time to concentrate on quality, not quantity. Although there is something positive to be said about an embarrassment of words. Too many, and you can cut. Too few, and you have to kick the imagination into gear to fill in those missing moments.

It’s also time to get serious. Which is why I’m now going back to my outline.

 

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