Using Calendars to Fill In Holes

Posted by Joanne Huspek

(Just a small aside and gripe: I wrote this entire blog post and it was just eaten by the Internet! I will try again.)

My April efforts for my class, Novel in Nine, fell a bit short. There was out of town company, there was sickness, there were other challenges, but I used the last few hassle-free days to catch up, so my final word count for the month was 38K+, a good showing but no cigar (40K).

My topic today is the use of calendars when writing your story. Not the use of calendars to keep YOU, the writer, on track, but using them to keep your story on track. I’m such a sucker for using devices when I write, like personality questions, color coding, lists, etc., that I don’t know why calendars aren’t a common ‘thing’ with writers. (Or maybe they are and I just don’t know it!) It’s another device I find useful.

I first started using a calendar for writing NaNoWriMo stories, and this is how I wrote Virtually Yours. I assigned each of the characters a day and wrote from their point of view on that day, with the last few days of the month ending up a melange of POVs to wrap the story up. It’s a no-brainer to use a calendar during NaNo, the yearly story telling blitz. You are tasked with writing a first draft (albeit, as we know, a messy first draft) in thirty days – a total of 50K words. As a result of my using a calendar for NaNo, most of my “November” stories are thirty days in duration. They typically start on or about November 1 and end November 30. I will take a monthly calendar page to plot out the action, or use my Hobonichi or other notebook to make one myself.

For Finding Cadence, I didn’t employ the use of a calendar until maybe the third draft. (I wrote this story before Virtually Yours but didn’t start editing until after…way after.) I needed the calendar because the story was very long and confusing to my beta readers. It was so long I ended up breaking it into three distinct parts while I sought to edit out many thousands of words. It was about the same time I plotted the story on a calendar that I found the story was following three distinct movements of a Rachmaninoff piano concerto that I listened to every time I sat down to write. Finding Cadence takes place from early February to October of the same year, and I printed up monthly calendar pages and stuck them together. Using the calendar helped me balance  each of the parts so that they were about equal in actual word count size and story.

Since I’m currently writing a historical novel set in 1898 Colorado Springs, there was much research to be done. Once I began researching, I found that I had to keep the story somewhat ‘real.’ While it’s fiction I’m writing, I’m mentioning actual people and places and events, such as the Antlers Hotel fire (which occurred on a Saturday afternoon, who knew?). I didn’t want a bunch of history buffs nitpicking my story over days of the week!  So I printed out a calendar for the year 1898 so I could visualize the story’s movement. The story starts Monday, July 4, when Silas dies, and ends Monday, October 3. My calendar is on a peg board right in front of me.

I’m making some strides this month. Now that I have much of the novel completed (about 55%) and I know at least in my head where the plot is going, it was time to take down my calendar and update it, along with the random business cards where I’ve written notes. After updating the calendar, I went back into my draft and put notes (chapters) along the way that correspond to the events that I have laid out or have already written.

I’m not writing this story in a linear fashion (although I started out writing it that way!); I have a solid beginning, a fairly good ending, and much in between. What I’m doing now is going back to fill in the holes in the story. The calendar is a constant reminder of the holes I need to plug up with scenes or chapters that I know have to be included before I can be reasonably satisfied with the first draft. The note cards are reminding me of specific things I need to include or work on.

Okay, so I’m a dinosaur but I made the transition from a manual typewriter to a computer. Someday I might graduate from Word to Scrivener. Like on a week where I have time. 🙂

Until then, I use calendars as a visual time line. It keeps me from wandering, which as we know, I tend to do.

 

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Word Count – Schmerd Count

Posted by Joanne Huspek

My current work in progress is coming about through an online class I’m taking with Michelle Richmond (The Year of Fog),  the class titled ambitiously enough Novel in Nine. We students are tasked with completing a novel in nine months.

For some, a nine-month deadline is nearly impossible. I know the feeling. It took me a four long years to finish my first novel. There were times when I felt like giving up, because to be frank, time was NOT on my side. Of course, I was greener then, basically stumbling/typing in the dark, not knowing what the hell I was doing. Practice might not make perfect, but it definitely increases your chances of completion.

Classes are a good way to keep to a schedule, to set small, reasonable goals and attain them. It’s all about the baby steps. Our class happens to include discussion, always helpful in that you realize you’re not toiling alone, nor are you the only one guilty of making mistakes. I was thinking about that today because our “assignments” happen to be reasonable with the possibility of completion within the week. Plus, they’re geared toward being included in the Novel.

Likewise, NaNoWriMo is a writing-cattle prod device that works well for me. 50K words? It’s nothing in November. I just tell myself it’s got to be done and it gets done. (Probably not agent-ready, but what first draft is?)

Michelle has given us a goal that can be managed easily, 10K words a month.

Here’s the difference between the class and NaNo: It’s about the word count, but it isn’t about the word count.

I don’t know why or how, but in November I can sit down and pump out a couple thousand words in an hour and a half. In the class, I’ve got my eye on the word count at the bottom of the document, but instead of writing as fast as I can, I find myself trying to write as well as I can. Plus, if I know something is coming up in my personal life, I can forge ahead and finish my assignments early, which is what I did in March.

I’m at the point now (about halfway through) where I have a solid story going, including a beginning, the start of a middle, and a pretty defining ending. I know what scenes and plot lines I have to weave in (six more things…totally doable). Many of the scenes I have to fold in coincidentally have something to do with the lesson of the week. This type of writing is more carefully thought out and not so haphazard.

Oh, I’m still a pantser. I’ve got the requisite index cards all over my desk scribbled with information that may or may not end up in the final draft. I’ve filled up my journal with drawings of houses and maps of the area and handwritten spreadsheets of characters and where they intersect and how much time I’ve given them. I’ve got a stack of reference books I’ve purchased from eBay stacked up under my desk.

And yes, I’m still a procrastinator. Just because I know what I need to insert doesn’t mean I just jump into my chair first thing in the morning and start writing. I’ve got a house, bad weather, a web site relaunch, a new puppy, and a part time job, as well as wanting to dabble in the other artistic pursuits that have caught my fancy.

There are upsides and downsides to each method of getting the writing done. The journey is the same; it’s the modes of transportation that are different. The thing is to find the one that works for you at the time and to enjoy the ride to The End.

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Writing is a Struggle, Get Used to It

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Sit down and stay awhile.

The title of this post may sound harsh and unfeeling. I’m not beating up my fellow writers, I’m just stating the facts.

Just like living, writing (or creating any sort of art or endeavor) is a monumental struggle, to begin a project, to maintain enthusiasm, to power through depression and self-doubt, to complete. Completion is the end goal. Believe me, I know. It took four years of struggle to complete the first draft of my first novel, and I’ve heard from others it could take much longer. For me, the first goal was The End. I’d passionately started plenty of projects only to have them fall to the wayside. (Example: somewhere in my house is a crazy quilt I started in 1984, the intent was to give the finished product to my in-laws for Christmas. I got to the point where it is 4′ by 4′, but not big enough to cover a bed. I think my first child derailed this project, but someday I will locate it and finish it.)

My work on my first novel ebbed and flowed over four years. Sometimes I’d be hit with surfer-wave intensity and would ride that wave for days, writing like a crazy person on meth. Other times, the desire to write would dry up to nothing, the edge of the ocean way, way, way out there, practically to China and unreachable, and I’d go weeks without thinking about writing, or I’d think about it and panic because I had basically become unproductive.

Dry spells are made of dread. During one particularly onerous dry spell, a good friend of mine (now gone, RIP) admonished me to at least sit down for 15 minutes and write something, anything. I even tried Write or Die, which did work in my case, eventually. (Why my tag line for the longest time was “I’m writing as fast as I can!”) I went from a hundred words in 15 minutes to sometimes over 500.

I’ll have to admit the obvious: the finished first-draft product was horrible! It was full of broken rules and too many words, bad grammar and head hopping and every wrong turn imaginable. I put it away for two years, because I couldn’t believe I had created a literary disaster. I went on to other novels in other genres (which I finished! it gets easier the more you write), tried flash fiction in an effort to tighten up my stories, and began to put my typewritten poems into digital form. I later came back to the story because it was a good one – just terribly executed. After I got over the stinging in my eyes from reading the draft a few times (I’m not kidding, it was ammonia awful), I set out to edit, and edit again, and again, and yes, a couple of more agains. When it felt right to me, I entered it into contests where I received positive feedback (YAY ME!) so I knew I was on the right track.

Every so often, I’ll pull a copy of the book out, open it to a random page, and read a page or two. While I’ve improved my skills since I published it, I can honestly say it’s actually not horrible! I still feel good about it.

What I have learned along the way is that writing is much like life. It’s not easy. There are days when you don’t want to get out of bed. (Writers seem to be depressed – a lot!) There are obstacles along the way: day jobs, downers in the personal life, struggles with health issues, things that are thrown at you that you can’t predict and sometimes are out of your control to alleviate. You’re tired, your head is full of negative thoughts and fears, your days are too full to sit down for a minute, much less 15 of them strung together, with enough corresponding peace and quiet in order to type.

What I’ve also learned is I need heartache and struggle in order to write. If things were a lollypop and gumdrop heaven all the time, I’d have nothing to write about.

I know what it feels like to have a total loss of words. In those cases, I resign myself to baby steps and give myself a break, because I know this will pass. So writers, give yourself room to stumble. Remember this: your writing life, like your real life, will not always be full of obstacles. It won’t be all rain, or God forbid, a bomb cyclone (like the one we experienced in Colorado last week – I might have to use that in a story). Eventually the clouds will clear and the sun will come out and life will be good and words will flow.

Trust me.

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Back Home, and Back to Work

Posted by Joanne Huspek

It was warm enough to take off my shoes

It was an interesting two weeks away from home. First, a long weekend with the San Francisco Writers Conference, this year being held at the Hyatt Regency near the Embarcadero and Ferry Building. I wasn’t sure at first if I was going to like the new digs, as it’s splashy! So very Vegas! Right in the middle of the action! but…I got used to the immense size. The accommodations were top notch, the banquet food yummy, the workshop space HUGE. There was no reason to go outside (plus it was raining the proverbial cats and dogs and colder than usual for February so why venture? except for the brief and nippy Eyespiration walk), so I stayed in and took advantage of all the workshops I could. Of course, I left there feeling totally bereft, like I have done everything wrong since last year, but that’s what the conference is for – to rein me in and keep me on a path. Mission accomplished.

I then spent the next few days at the beach. Thankfully, the skies parted on those days, the sun came out, and I was able to enjoy myself. I spent an entire day with my web designer (for the jewelry site – stay tuned) and felt like I accomplished much there too. I visited with the son which is always nice, even though he is now busy with two jobs. The last two days in California were spent in Fort Bragg, which is known for Glass Beach. (Score! A lot of sea glass! Also blessed with nice days.) I made my escape through the Sierra just before more torrential rain and snowfall. (Can you believe they’ve gotten over 400″ of snow? So far?) The drive home was marked by the appearance of the crud (you KNOW I have to get it sometime during the trip) and of course, treacherous driving in western Wyoming, where the speed limit says 80 mph but with patches of black ice and jack-knifed semis every few miles, driving was belabored and careful. I’m too old to be a statistic. I’ve also too many things left to do.

So now I have returned, to my own comfy bed and my wonderful shower and the husband and dog and cat. I hadn’t written much since leaving the conference, but I made up for it beforehand by writing like a fool on fire. This week’s assignment in my writing class has sparked my interest once again, and I’ve already made quite a dent in my word count.

My assignment… to write the climax of my novel!

I like the idea of writing not in a linear fashion. I took a similar class with Michelle Richmond a couple of years ago and she had us write the last chapter as an exercise. My head rarely works on the linear; in fact, today I printed a calendar for the year in question just so I can see the time line in the way my story will occur. Otherwise I’ll jump back and forth like a crazy person. (This is why it takes me so long to complete a second edit. Sometimes my writing truly makes my head hurt.)

Honestly, this may sound like me patting myself on the back, but things are truly coming together this time! For one thing, I picked a good year (1898) to write about, although I didn’t know it at first, because I picked it out of the ether. My research has revealed so many interesting occurrences that year. My climax is scheduled for October 1, 1898, which also happens to be the day the first Antlers Hotel burned to the ground in Colorado Springs. My main character and her mother are having tea there when the explosion occurs. This corresponds with my character taking a stand and finally asking for (and getting) what she wants.

Now I just have to fill in the holes for the six weeks before the fire.

There are no easy fixes or sure-fire “hacks” (God, I hate that word) for writing. The very first basic thing a writer must do is sit down and begin to write. Nothing happens without the sitting down part (unless you have one of those ergonomic standing desks – then STAND and start writing). It doesn’t matter what you write, it doesn’t matter if they are perfect, wonderful sentences, just start. Write a blog post, or a poem, or a Facebook rant.  Prompts help, both word prompts and visual prompts. Taking a class and being confronted with homework also works. If you’re stuck in a scene, move on to another scene – you’ll probably use it. Take a walk without devices and let your mind wander. Read, either craft books or novels.

Most of all, if you find something that works for you, if you’re blessed with divine intervention and the words flow freely, go with it. Don’t let a moment of creativity slip through your fingers, because take it from me, it can pass just as quickly as it came.

And now, I must finish my chapter.

Write on.

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The After-Conference Cool Down

Posted by Joanne Huspek

Don’t sit here unless you have a super absorbent towel.

It’s the Monday morning after the San Francisco Writers Conference, and I’m sitting in a motel a couple of blocks from Ocean Beach. Because while downtown San Francisco is Disneyland and Las Vegas wrapped up in New York with a side of Tokyo and Hong Kong and a teaspoon of Peru (don’t ask), the core of the city is too much stimulation for this simple girl to experience for more than a few days at a time. I need the decompression of a cold, windy beach, minimal traffic, and good coffee right next door.

The same goes for conferencing. I attended well-rested, open-minded, free from work life worries and personal life drama, in the best mental shape of my writing life ever, yet still after three and a half days, one must step away and allow the absorption to take place. I’m concentrating on my “other” love and web site today, and try not to think about what I’ve learned at the conference until at least tomorrow morning. A certain amount of distance is necessary to obtain perspective.

The conference is a good thing, a necessary thing for me. It’s an inoculation, a gentle reminder that in the year that’s transpired since the last conference, I’ve fallen into bad habits. Or lazy, bad habits. I learn about what’s new, I see old friendly faces and meet new, mostly old, friendly faces. I choose a couple of small, easy fixes for my writing, or my web site, or my marketing, and will work on those items. I revel in the enthusiasm of the young writers, and commiserate with fellow compatriots who have pledged to toil on for the long haul.

Writing anything, be it a novel, memoir, poem, or blog post, is work, hard work. It’s not a lottery ticket. Writing is an art you will not instantly be fabulous at. (I think I’ve said that elsewhere.) It doesn’t come easily (although now it’s coming much easier, but that’s the practice factor at play), especially with external forces constantly tugging at you, trying to derail your progress.

Information is a wonderful thing, as is camaraderie and validation. But it means nothing unless you put the information to work, you forge the friendly banter from the initial hello to a lasting friendship, and you take your talent to higher levels to live up to the praise.

I’m here, still walking in the wet. Still thinking of plot twists and character development. Still fighting the good fight.

Still writing.

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On the Way to Conferencing

Posted by Joanne Huspek
I <3 writing

I’m timing this post to be released when I’ll be on the road driving toward San Francisco. Depending on what time I leave the house (hopefully early enough to avoid Denver rush hour, slow time appears to be between 3-4 a.m., the rest of the time it’s a zoo), I want to say it will be released to the Internets when I’m on the road somewhere west of Cheyenne, Wyoming.

Now that I’m living in Colorado and equidistant from both of my children (one in Michigan, the other in San Francisco), I’ve decided that driving to either destination is the best option. Airline travel takes a lot of time: you drive to the airport, you hassle through the TSA lines depending on whether or not your ticket says “pre-check” (which it sometimes does – how I don’t know) or not, you draw the lottery over an upgrade, a draw you normally lose; there are connecting flights to catch (or miss), maintenance issues which may delay you, deplaning at your final destination (when you’re in row 42, you might as well take a nap), waiting at the baggage claim and hoping your psychedelically colored bag hasn’t been mistakenly routed to Kenya, traveling AirTrain to the rental car building (a short trip also fraught with pitfalls – I nearly took out a Japanese tourist once, by accident, when my bag and I tripped on the escalator and fell on him), waiting at the rental car counter for hours, etc., etc.

No wonder I’m exhausted by the time I arrive at the conference! It normally takes me three days to acclimate to the jet lag, and by that time, the conference is over and I have a terrible case of conference crud (one year I had the crud DURING the conference, which was no fun at all) which takes all of a week to eradicate, or at least get under control.

No. Driving is the best option. I’m in control. It might take a little longer, but my nerves (and my gray hair) will be better for it. I won’t have jet lag. I’ll have hours to sing along with Tom Petty radio, or to imagine the Old West as it was 150 years ago. I’ll have carefully packed snacks: fruit, granola, nuts, hard boiled eggs, my own bottled water that won’t cost me $8 at the terminal bookstore. I’ll have my own car, which I won’t have to clean out a rental at the end of ten days and hope I didn’t leave my glasses or my Lipitor prescription in it. It will be a two day trip, or a day and a half, or, if I’m feeling particularly spry and alert, I might go for it in one very long day and save myself a stop in Elko, Nevada. (One extra day with my son.) My son says to bring chains for the pass between Reno and the western slope of the Sierras, but I have an extra day built in just for such an emergency. I-80 is a major artery; they’re not going to let 30 feet of snow stop a major vein of commerce between the Left and Right Coasts.

I can take my time if I want. Or not. I haven’t decided.

This year will be my tenth San Francisco Writers Conference. Ten years. If you read the very second blog post on this very blog, you’ll see where I started: writing about my first San Francisco Writers Conference. I had a lot of dreams back then, not to say I don’t have them now. My dreams now aren’t the dreamy dreams of a fresh writer who had just finished her first (massively huge) manuscript. Dreams are good, as long as a guiding hand of reality steers in the background. I have no illusions of a client hungry agent tapping me on the shoulder to offer me a six-figure deal. That might happen for some people, but if it happens to me, I might have a heart attack and die.

Money is nice, but that’s not why I write (or draw, or create jewelry, or weave baskets). I subscribe to some writer blogs that say you MUST be in it to make money. I’m sorry, but after fourteen years of writing (again) and ten years of conferencing, I still have to disagree.

I write to tell a story.

Some of them are surprising stories, totally different from my favorite reading material. The one I’m working on now? A girl in 1898 Colorado Springs? If you would have told me a year ago I’d be writing about this girl and her struggles, I would have laughed at you and said what-kind-of-stuff-are-you-smoking-can-I-have-some. I didn’t even think about this girl until after the first of January 2019. And the one right before that, political shenanigans ripped from the headlines? Again, mad laughter.

The truth of the matter is that there are stories all around us, and most of them are multi-layered, and many of them compelling. Good writers can pluck a story from anything or anyone. The trick (or skill) is to write the best book you can and portray the characters so that they’re relatable and real. Once you achieve that, the entertainment value is apparent.

You can still learn a lot from ten years of conferences. Learning never ends. Every year, I learn something new and am grateful for the venue and the knowledge it affords me. Every year, I go in thinking “I am a sponge; give me something to soak up.”

If you go in thinking you have a chance at winning the lottery and leave disappointed that the conference failed you because you got a couple of eye-rolls from agents during your speed dating hour, you’re missing the point. Attending a conference of this magnitude is winning the lottery.

And now I must pack.

See you on the other side.

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The More You Write…

Posted by Joanne Huspek

When it comes to creative pursuits (of which I have a few, and the list is growing), the old adage is true: Practice, practice, practice.

I took a pine needle basket class. This is my first effort. Not the best, but I can practice.

No matter what you choose to do, you’ll find you won’t produce perfection on the first try. I learned this with my jewelry. I started out playing with beads, which was a no-brainer. But when I moved to metal, it was trial and error BIG TIME. I would come back from my Tuesday class and practice like a crazed woman. For example, I would make 100 wire rings (or 50 coiled bracelets, or whatever) between Wednesday and Monday, and most of those were crap. I have in my office what I call my “laundry basket of shame” – all of my failed projects that are too ugly for words. (Also too ugly for the light of day.) And yes, it’s a laundry basket. I’m keeping them to possibly re-do at some time in the future (metal can be melted and I’ve got nice stones in those failures), but mostly I keep them as a reminder of where I started and where I am now.

What I’ve noticed in the last few years is that with more practice comes more skill, and I’m not contributing to the junk pile as frequently as I did when I first started out.

I would imagine it would be the same with any endeavor. I’m fairly certain Tiger Woods didn’t come out of the womb with golf club in hand. I occasionally golf, and I can tell you there is no such thing as innate talent, only that to come out of the day with a decent score takes a lot of consistent practice.

The same is true with writing. From experience, I know you can’t just sit down and take off with your pen or computer and expect the result to be anything but…well, flawed. Telling a story is an art form, and with any art, there must be practice. Lots and lots of practice.

It does get easier. Just as now I can wire wrap almost in my sleep, when I write, I make less and less of the stupid mistakes I made after finishing the first draft of my first novel. I don’t linger over passages anymore like I did with Book #1 – if I find myself getting bogged down, I’ll move on and come back later. The second novel was a little easier. The third even more so. I’m not much of a plotter, but now I’m aware of my foibles (like writing rambling back story and writing like I speak), and I know when to stop and when to kick it into gear. I’ve learned that if I write as fast as I can, even the worst of my writing has a value and can be used (with much editing). And I’ve learned to take small snippets of time and fill them with writing. (Right now, I’m filling my Hobonichi with short poems. They’re rough draft poems, but I’ll get to them someday.)

The lesson is, once you plant butt into chair: The more you write, the more you will write – and the better you’ll get at it.

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