It's been a while since I've written, mostly because I'm trying to wrap my head around this depression thing. Sometimes it's wrapping around me instead, coiling through my brain and lungs and heart, squeezing tighter and tighter until I cannot think, breathe, or feel. I'm working on it. It certainly won't win. I've never failed at anything, and I certainly won't fail at this.
So back to this post...
I attended the NESCBWI conference this past weekend for the first time. The workshops were so engaging, and the people were just incredible. I'd forgotten what it was like to be surrounded with people who love writing as much as I do. It was better yet because they all write for children, and that's where my heart lies.
I don't want to spend too much time blabbering on here, so I'm only go to describe what I feel has been the biggest thing I noticed at the conference: that I'm extremely lucky. Why? Because I have such an awesome support group of writers.
Over the duration of the conference, I spoke with tens of people. The subject that came up the most was critique partners, beta readers, support groups. Who do you bring your manuscript to once it's completed? How do you know you have what it takes to be a writer? When should you give up? Should you?
To quote agent Lauren MacLeod, "writers are crazy." We are. And we doubt ourselves and our abilities. One moment we feel we've written the next Harry Potter, and the next moment we're curled up in an empty party-sized pizza box with cheese in our hair and marinara down our chins. I've been there. Oh have I been there. And one thing has made a difference through it all. My support group.
Writers, we are not alone. We don't need to go it alone. Finding my group, a group of 2014 PitchWars mentees and alts, has made all the difference. If I need to cry, they're there. If I need to laugh, they're there. If I need to vent, to inquire, to joke, to hope, to celebrate, to staunch the crazy, to share a hotel room even though we'd never technically met (thanks, Rachel!), to find out where the hell in the world makes a pizza bigger than party-sized...they're there.
It's taken me almost three years to find mine, but I saw at the conference, those writers who seemed happiest, who seemed the most sure of themselves, all had their own version of a group. Writing is lonely, and, let's face it, most people don't understand exactly what writers go through, which is why finding a group is so important.
So yes, at the NESCBWI conference, I learned new exercises to open my mind to writing. Yes, I now understand the importance of blending emotions to create more complicated emotions, and I have more confidence adding diversity to my characters. But I also know how lucky I am to be a member of a strong writing group. The conference reminded me of it, solidified it really.
Showing posts with label writers' conference. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writers' conference. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Monday, July 28, 2014
Universe, Give Me a Book Deal
Not so long ago, I was invited to a wine tasting. Being new to wine, I was entirely excited--so excited that even though my husband and I drove 46 straight hours from Montana to Massachusetts and only got home that morning, I was still going to go. In my mind, there would be ten to twenty people all bringing their favorite bottles of wine, there would be crackers to clear our palates, and I would leave with a list of new wines that I would love forever and ever.
It started out great because I saw these little cucumber things, but imagine my disappointment when people started showing up with cases of beer...in cans. I don't drink beer, but I'm a beer snob because my husband is a beer snob. No self-respecting beer comes in a can. Then there was a backyard fire. I hadn't dressed for a backyard fire. In fact, I hadn't even brought a sweatshirt, which I was sure to need.
The conversation eventually turned to people I had never met in situations where they might have been funny if I knew who they were. What did I do? I was rude. I pulled out my phone and started texting the babysitter. We spoke briefly of my daughter's refusal to go to bed and then moved on to the founder of Chinese communism. Yep. That's what we texted about.
Then, someone started telling a story in which she really wanted her husband to get a snow blower. It went something like this: Newly married and in a new house, she experienced her first winter in which she had to shovel snow. She told her husband they needed a snow blower. He said, "We live in the city and only have 50 feet of sidewalk to shovel. We do not need a snow blower. We aren't going to spend two grand on a snow blower." She told him, "That's fine. The universe will bring us a snow blower." Lo and behold, a couple weeks later, someone left one on their driveway for them.
So this woman continued. She told me her husband wanted a truck. They're sensible people, so after some discussion they decided they had neither the money nor the need for the power of a truck. But what did she say? She said, "If we really need a truck, the universe will bring us a truck." What happened? You got it. Someone gave them a truck, which after $300 in body work looks brand new and works like a charm.
Forgetting my whole texted conversation about Mao, I said, "I like your universe. Could you tell it I want a book deal."
"That's not how the universe works," she said.
If you know me, you know I have a really hard time in social situations. I promptly felt like I needed to go to the bathroom and hyperventilate.
"That's not how the universe works," she repeated. "If you really want a book deal, it's got to be something you need, and it's got to be something you're willing to wait for. The universe doesn't just give you things. You have to constantly give it things first. I'm always doing nice things for other people. That's why the universe gives us things. If you really want a book deal, you have to say, 'Universe, give me a book deal,' and then be willing to wait and give the universe back."
I was duly chastised.
Her husband saved me. "April's a teacher. She understands all about giving without receiving."
But it got me thinking. After I finished WINTER ON BRIMSTONE HILL, after completing and polishing it, I started to put every effort into my query letter. I wrote four drafts before putting a better draft up on Agent Query Connect to be peer-critiqued. Unfortunately, practically nothing came up for help. I had a maximum of 20 hits with only a few vague responses. I entered the New Agent Contest as hosted by Michelle Hauck. My query didn't make it onto anyone's 'maybe' list, but there was a tweet about an LGBT contemporary that might have been mine, saying it was still too much like a draft.Then I saw with dismay that WriteOnCon probably wasn't going to happen this year. And I thought to myself, "But I really needed WriteOnCon to help me with this query. I'm floundering here."
Still, I made sure to critique other queries on the AQC forum; all the while, I started to create a list of author friends who may be willing to take a look at my query letter and tell me where I went wrong.
But what did the universe do? The universe did not bring me a book deal--has not yet, at least. The universe brought WriteOnCon back! My vacation will have ended by then, and I'll have to overlap work with WriteOnCon. I'll be writing lesson plans while critiquing others' queries. So what. I'm optimistic now. With some perseverance, a little luck, and a lot of giving back, the universe may very well bring me that book deal yet.
Oh. Let's not be remiss. Thank you for the wine tasting. Even though I didn't taste any wine but that which I brought, I still learned some valuable information.
It started out great because I saw these little cucumber things, but imagine my disappointment when people started showing up with cases of beer...in cans. I don't drink beer, but I'm a beer snob because my husband is a beer snob. No self-respecting beer comes in a can. Then there was a backyard fire. I hadn't dressed for a backyard fire. In fact, I hadn't even brought a sweatshirt, which I was sure to need.
The conversation eventually turned to people I had never met in situations where they might have been funny if I knew who they were. What did I do? I was rude. I pulled out my phone and started texting the babysitter. We spoke briefly of my daughter's refusal to go to bed and then moved on to the founder of Chinese communism. Yep. That's what we texted about.
Then, someone started telling a story in which she really wanted her husband to get a snow blower. It went something like this: Newly married and in a new house, she experienced her first winter in which she had to shovel snow. She told her husband they needed a snow blower. He said, "We live in the city and only have 50 feet of sidewalk to shovel. We do not need a snow blower. We aren't going to spend two grand on a snow blower." She told him, "That's fine. The universe will bring us a snow blower." Lo and behold, a couple weeks later, someone left one on their driveway for them.
So this woman continued. She told me her husband wanted a truck. They're sensible people, so after some discussion they decided they had neither the money nor the need for the power of a truck. But what did she say? She said, "If we really need a truck, the universe will bring us a truck." What happened? You got it. Someone gave them a truck, which after $300 in body work looks brand new and works like a charm.
Forgetting my whole texted conversation about Mao, I said, "I like your universe. Could you tell it I want a book deal."
"That's not how the universe works," she said.
If you know me, you know I have a really hard time in social situations. I promptly felt like I needed to go to the bathroom and hyperventilate.
"That's not how the universe works," she repeated. "If you really want a book deal, it's got to be something you need, and it's got to be something you're willing to wait for. The universe doesn't just give you things. You have to constantly give it things first. I'm always doing nice things for other people. That's why the universe gives us things. If you really want a book deal, you have to say, 'Universe, give me a book deal,' and then be willing to wait and give the universe back."
I was duly chastised.
Her husband saved me. "April's a teacher. She understands all about giving without receiving."
But it got me thinking. After I finished WINTER ON BRIMSTONE HILL, after completing and polishing it, I started to put every effort into my query letter. I wrote four drafts before putting a better draft up on Agent Query Connect to be peer-critiqued. Unfortunately, practically nothing came up for help. I had a maximum of 20 hits with only a few vague responses. I entered the New Agent Contest as hosted by Michelle Hauck. My query didn't make it onto anyone's 'maybe' list, but there was a tweet about an LGBT contemporary that might have been mine, saying it was still too much like a draft.Then I saw with dismay that WriteOnCon probably wasn't going to happen this year. And I thought to myself, "But I really needed WriteOnCon to help me with this query. I'm floundering here."
Still, I made sure to critique other queries on the AQC forum; all the while, I started to create a list of author friends who may be willing to take a look at my query letter and tell me where I went wrong.
But what did the universe do? The universe did not bring me a book deal--has not yet, at least. The universe brought WriteOnCon back! My vacation will have ended by then, and I'll have to overlap work with WriteOnCon. I'll be writing lesson plans while critiquing others' queries. So what. I'm optimistic now. With some perseverance, a little luck, and a lot of giving back, the universe may very well bring me that book deal yet.
Oh. Let's not be remiss. Thank you for the wine tasting. Even though I didn't taste any wine but that which I brought, I still learned some valuable information.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
#8 Critique Partner Series - Tightening Up Sentences
I am in no way a professional. I don't have a fancy education to back up writing (that is reserved for mathematics), but I do know what I like to read and I do know when I read something that doesn't quite jive for me. So WELCOME to my CRITIQUE PARTNER SERIES! Much of my advice you can find everywhere else on the internet. None of it is professional. Annnnnd BEGIN!
#8 Critique Partner Series – Tightening Up Sentences
I took a short hiatus from my CPS because I needed to recharge after an invigorating week at the writers' conference. Now I'm back, and having workshopped LitD, I want to take a moment to talk about one thing I learned. Let's start with that lovely television series we all know and love: Law and Order. Now let's talk about the most well known part of Law and Order: the DUN DUN. What I love about the DUN DUN is all the force packed into it. You hear that sound and you know justice has been served.
After workshopping LitD, the fabulous Paul Cody told me that my sentence structure and grammar were all where they needed to be. The problem with my writing was my DUN DUN. My sentences say, "DUN DUN...dun."
Here are a couple of before and afters:
Before: I think about it for a moment.
After: I think for a moment.
Before: I inhale and few deep breaths before returning to my bed.
After: I inhale deeply before returning to bed.
Before: My thoughts break off when I hear a noise--something akin to a thud--from outside my window.
After: I hear a noise--a thud--outside my window.
Before: Perhaps she is lost and afraid to be out beyond curfew.
After: Perhaps she is lost and afraid.
Before: The boy shouts at her.
After: The boy shouts.
Before: She releases the can, and it rolls into the shadows.
After: The can rolls into the shadows.
And so on.
Notice how each new sentence is more succinct. Each says the same thing as before, but now they're better. They pack more punch. Justice is served. DUN DUN!
My Question for you:
What are some of the things you do tighten up your sentences?
#8 Critique Partner Series – Tightening Up Sentences
I took a short hiatus from my CPS because I needed to recharge after an invigorating week at the writers' conference. Now I'm back, and having workshopped LitD, I want to take a moment to talk about one thing I learned. Let's start with that lovely television series we all know and love: Law and Order. Now let's talk about the most well known part of Law and Order: the DUN DUN. What I love about the DUN DUN is all the force packed into it. You hear that sound and you know justice has been served.
After workshopping LitD, the fabulous Paul Cody told me that my sentence structure and grammar were all where they needed to be. The problem with my writing was my DUN DUN. My sentences say, "DUN DUN...dun."
Here are a couple of before and afters:
Before: I think about it for a moment.
After: I think for a moment.
Before: I inhale and few deep breaths before returning to my bed.
After: I inhale deeply before returning to bed.
Before: My thoughts break off when I hear a noise--something akin to a thud--from outside my window.
After: I hear a noise--a thud--outside my window.
Before: Perhaps she is lost and afraid to be out beyond curfew.
After: Perhaps she is lost and afraid.
Before: The boy shouts at her.
After: The boy shouts.
Before: She releases the can, and it rolls into the shadows.
After: The can rolls into the shadows.
And so on.
Notice how each new sentence is more succinct. Each says the same thing as before, but now they're better. They pack more punch. Justice is served. DUN DUN!
My Question for you:
What are some of the things you do tighten up your sentences?
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
CWC 2013 in Review
This year I attended the Colgate Writers' Conference located at Colgate University in Hamilton, NY. If you want the short version, here it is: AWESOME! If you want the long version, read on.
Sunday, June 16:
I made the 4.5 hour drive from middle of nowhere Massachusetts to middle of nowhere New York. Colgate's campus is lovely, and my only issue upon arriving was not being able to determine what was a road and what was a sidewalk. Upon asking, I was told that if it looks like I can fit a car down it, then drive down it. What I learned: my car fits down every "sidewalk," even the one that leads to a set of stairs. Do NOT drive down the stairs.
My two-year-old helped me pack my suitcase. It wasn't until I was unpacking when I discovered she thought I needed a pair of her socks to take with me.
The welcome reception terrified me, and I spent most of the time 1.) wishing what I wore matched the wall paper better, and 2.) grateful for the lovely Maria--a Sicilian non-fiction writer who made me feel right at home. I then dined with three lawyers/writers. Readings by the awesome Jennifer Haigh and Bruce Smith = awesome.
I met my group-mates--those individuals with whom I would spend the next week working out the kinks in our novels--and the intense Paul Cody.
Monday, June 17:
It was exactly 5:00 am (or thereabouts) when I discovered there was no coffee station. I mean, seriously? Don't writers mainline coffee? Why the heck wasn't there coffee until 7:30? This girl wrote about it in her evaluation.
I then spent the rest of the day in workshops and other talks. Readings by Dana Spiotta and J. Robert Lennon = love.
Tuesday, June 18:
There still wasn't coffee until 7:30. Why, oh, why must they torture us so??
Today, I was under fire. My group-mates gave me feedback on LitD, which I then ate with a hot dog (because I relished it!). Paul gave me some fab advice about querying and agents. Let me tell you, I feel a million times better about LitD! Later that afternoon, I read part of LitD to the attendants. Afterwards, my heart and head swelled just a little.
Readings by Brian Hall and Jennifer Brice = Wow. Jennifer's essay sang to me--seriously sang to me. I bought CASTLE by J. Robert Lennon (and then spent the rest of the conference too chicken to ask him to sign it).
Wednesday, June 19:
More awesomeness of the sort I've already described. Here's the beautiful early morning view. The only thing this view was missing was the coffee...which I didn't get until 7:30. *sigh*
Readings by Greg Ames and Joni Tevis = Beautiful. I toted John's book around all day. I had about twenty opportunities to ask him to sign it. Did I do it? No. What I did do was see the Manhattan String Quartet in concert. Hey, if it's not baroque, fix it!
Thursday, June 20:
More awesomeness. Got to listen to Lorelei Sharkey's presentation about self-publishing. If you're into kink, buy her book! It's illustrated. Readings by Mark Doty and Marjorie Celona = Sorry guys. I was too tired to pay attention. I promise I heard lots of beautiful words, though. My mind was too exhausted to register them. My mind was too exhausted to ask John to sign my copy of his book, too.
Friday, June 21:
I woke to write a poem--a very bad poem. But the mattress muse inspired me. More awesomeness. Lunch with Leslie Daniels on the grass = Score! She answered so many of my questions that she was probably sick of me by the end of the meal. Readings by Leslie = Fun, and Paul = Moving, so so very moving. Do you know what else was moving? Me. As in, I moved in the other direction, instead of asking John to sign the damned book.
Saturday, June 22:
Yes, there was still a craft talk and a workshop. And! And! I finally finally finally got up the nerve to ask John to sign his book. Confetti! (Virtual, not literal confetti though. That stuff's a mess to clean up.)
Then, there was lunch with Kathi and Alan. The restaurant must have known writers were going to be around. They felt the need to put a disclaimer on their menu.
Commence the 4.5 hour drive back to Massachusetts (where there was a detour that took me 10 minutes out of my way). I was greeted home by a deer but otherwise empty house.
Huge thanks to all my writing peeps out there who made this week memorable. I'll list you by name and in no particular order, but know this list isn't complete. If I left you off the list, it's not because I don't love you. Thanks to: Dave, Alan, Dave, Kathi, Paul, Gopal, David, Paco, David, Maria, Jan, Martha, Dave, and Kevin. (And yes 36% of those people are Davids, and yes, they are all different people.)
Here are my group-mates. Unfortunately, we're missing a Dave in this photo.
So, would I go again? Heck yeah!
Oh! I almost forgot! My poem. Note: I am *not* a poet.
An Ode to the Mattress
Your daughter is beautiful
and yet you do not want
anymore kids, you said.
Tossing from side and then
to side when I do not sleep
I say, No. Colgate's mattress
has reminded me of pregnancy.
This mattress ain't for sleeping.
Grandma was a scary lady,
big and plush and Polish.
Lying on my belly reminds
me of this
There is no give for curves here.
Grandma's got Monster Boobies,
do I?
This mattress ain't for sleeping.
The writers creep back to their dormitories
from their imbibements of colorful and noncolorful drinks
Their voices, hollow, echoing, unreal
drift through my open window.
When I can make out their words, I hear
Bondage and Sadomasochism.
This mattress certainly ain't for sleeping.
But tomorrow
Tomorrow I will plunge into the musicians' mosh pit
and then.
Sunday, June 16:
I made the 4.5 hour drive from middle of nowhere Massachusetts to middle of nowhere New York. Colgate's campus is lovely, and my only issue upon arriving was not being able to determine what was a road and what was a sidewalk. Upon asking, I was told that if it looks like I can fit a car down it, then drive down it. What I learned: my car fits down every "sidewalk," even the one that leads to a set of stairs. Do NOT drive down the stairs.
My two-year-old helped me pack my suitcase. It wasn't until I was unpacking when I discovered she thought I needed a pair of her socks to take with me.
The welcome reception terrified me, and I spent most of the time 1.) wishing what I wore matched the wall paper better, and 2.) grateful for the lovely Maria--a Sicilian non-fiction writer who made me feel right at home. I then dined with three lawyers/writers. Readings by the awesome Jennifer Haigh and Bruce Smith = awesome.
I met my group-mates--those individuals with whom I would spend the next week working out the kinks in our novels--and the intense Paul Cody.
Monday, June 17:
It was exactly 5:00 am (or thereabouts) when I discovered there was no coffee station. I mean, seriously? Don't writers mainline coffee? Why the heck wasn't there coffee until 7:30? This girl wrote about it in her evaluation.
I then spent the rest of the day in workshops and other talks. Readings by Dana Spiotta and J. Robert Lennon = love.
Tuesday, June 18:
There still wasn't coffee until 7:30. Why, oh, why must they torture us so??
Today, I was under fire. My group-mates gave me feedback on LitD, which I then ate with a hot dog (because I relished it!). Paul gave me some fab advice about querying and agents. Let me tell you, I feel a million times better about LitD! Later that afternoon, I read part of LitD to the attendants. Afterwards, my heart and head swelled just a little.
Readings by Brian Hall and Jennifer Brice = Wow. Jennifer's essay sang to me--seriously sang to me. I bought CASTLE by J. Robert Lennon (and then spent the rest of the conference too chicken to ask him to sign it).
Wednesday, June 19:
More awesomeness of the sort I've already described. Here's the beautiful early morning view. The only thing this view was missing was the coffee...which I didn't get until 7:30. *sigh*
Readings by Greg Ames and Joni Tevis = Beautiful. I toted John's book around all day. I had about twenty opportunities to ask him to sign it. Did I do it? No. What I did do was see the Manhattan String Quartet in concert. Hey, if it's not baroque, fix it!
Thursday, June 20:
More awesomeness. Got to listen to Lorelei Sharkey's presentation about self-publishing. If you're into kink, buy her book! It's illustrated. Readings by Mark Doty and Marjorie Celona = Sorry guys. I was too tired to pay attention. I promise I heard lots of beautiful words, though. My mind was too exhausted to register them. My mind was too exhausted to ask John to sign my copy of his book, too.
Friday, June 21:
I woke to write a poem--a very bad poem. But the mattress muse inspired me. More awesomeness. Lunch with Leslie Daniels on the grass = Score! She answered so many of my questions that she was probably sick of me by the end of the meal. Readings by Leslie = Fun, and Paul = Moving, so so very moving. Do you know what else was moving? Me. As in, I moved in the other direction, instead of asking John to sign the damned book.
Saturday, June 22:
Yes, there was still a craft talk and a workshop. And! And! I finally finally finally got up the nerve to ask John to sign his book. Confetti! (Virtual, not literal confetti though. That stuff's a mess to clean up.)
Then, there was lunch with Kathi and Alan. The restaurant must have known writers were going to be around. They felt the need to put a disclaimer on their menu.
Commence the 4.5 hour drive back to Massachusetts (where there was a detour that took me 10 minutes out of my way). I was greeted home by a deer but otherwise empty house.
Huge thanks to all my writing peeps out there who made this week memorable. I'll list you by name and in no particular order, but know this list isn't complete. If I left you off the list, it's not because I don't love you. Thanks to: Dave, Alan, Dave, Kathi, Paul, Gopal, David, Paco, David, Maria, Jan, Martha, Dave, and Kevin. (And yes 36% of those people are Davids, and yes, they are all different people.)
Here are my group-mates. Unfortunately, we're missing a Dave in this photo.
So, would I go again? Heck yeah!
Oh! I almost forgot! My poem. Note: I am *not* a poet.
An Ode to the Mattress
Your daughter is beautiful
and yet you do not want
anymore kids, you said.
Tossing from side and then
to side when I do not sleep
I say, No. Colgate's mattress
has reminded me of pregnancy.
This mattress ain't for sleeping.
Grandma was a scary lady,
big and plush and Polish.
Lying on my belly reminds
me of this
There is no give for curves here.
Grandma's got Monster Boobies,
do I?
This mattress ain't for sleeping.
The writers creep back to their dormitories
from their imbibements of colorful and noncolorful drinks
Their voices, hollow, echoing, unreal
drift through my open window.
When I can make out their words, I hear
Bondage and Sadomasochism.
This mattress certainly ain't for sleeping.
But tomorrow
Tomorrow I will plunge into the musicians' mosh pit
and then.
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