Jenny Jensen is deep into a manuscript and unable to come up for air. We’re helping her out by posting one of her articles from our archives. Hope you enjoy it.
I love quotes. I collect them, especially quotes about writing from writers I particularly respect. Since I work with writers of all levels from beginners to veterans, I find that sometimes the perfect quote from an established writer is exactly what I need to reinforce a point – so I use my collection well.
I just took on a new client who sent an outline for her first novel. The outline included a précis of the plot, quick character sketches, a few narrative bits on action scenes and several options for an ending. Buried in these concepts were the seeds of a very fresh new voice. I’m excited; it’s the kind of challenge I relish. It’s the perfect opportunity to ask the right questions, provide possibilities and help guide the story to a solid structure – all of which greases the writer’s creative wheels – the give and take nudging them to the path they want for their story.
The problem was the writer didn’t want to write a draft; she wanted to work with me to get the story full blown in her head then sit down at the keyboard and spit out a finished novel. Oh dear. I imagine there are writers who can do that but they’re as rare as the ivory-billed woodpecker. As Anne Lamott put it in her essay, Shitty First Drafts: “I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much.”
All first drafts suck. It’s a universal law. But it’s where you have to start. “The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.” (TY Terry Pratchett.) So give yourself permission to just spill it, write the most vapid dialog ever if that’s what comes out. It’s OK – it’s a draft. Just get the story out. If you find yourself using more adjectives than Danielle Steele and Judith Krantz combined then this is the place to do it. It’s a draft -no one will ever see it (except me but that’s all right ‘cuz I’ll never tell). Stewart Stafford hit the bull’s eye, “It’s okay to write a cliché in a first draft; it sets a marker that you can get far, far away from in the rewrites.”
That’s what a draft is for – the rewrites. Here’s where the painful process of filling the blank page becomes fun. You see the flaws and get to slash and revise, hear the perfect dialog over the noise of what you drafted, maybe see a new direction in the wreckage. I’ve encouraged my client to write a first draft. I’ll happily work with her from that, but I bet she goes over it first – who could resist? Draft one or draft two, I don’t care. I can’t wait to see it.
I’d been writing for hours. My tired brain and I wandered into the garden. To pull a weed, I sat on the edge of a raised bed. I drifted into stillness. A breeze whispered. After five minutes, or was it ten, a bird…I didn’t dare turn…came to hover not two feet from my head. Whoosh, whoosh. Her wings beat down the air. Whoosh, whoosh.
I am a member of a small bible study group at church. At the beginning of our meetings before we study the words of the Christ, we talk about the past week, about the minutiae of our lives. I told my friends about the bird. Later, during the lesson, I lamented that I did not feel the Christ’s presence with me in my life.
Jose remarked, “Ah, but he was with you.”
“When?” I asked.
“In the whoosh of the wings.”
Since that day, I have begun to deliberately embed in my stories the hand of a loving God.
◊
“Tina, would it be alright, if I borrowed your new knife? You see, I was thinking of getting one, and I wanted to try it out.”
“Sure. Do you want me to bring it over?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll come to you.”
“Is he letting you drive?”
“No, but I’ll take the bus. It’s such a beautiful day. I want to be out.”
At three-thirty in the afternoon, the knife wrapped in a dish towel and stuffed deep into the bottom of my purse, I got off the bus to begin the long walk up the hill to my home. The sun was on the river, like a painting, glistening off the rippling water. The sight of it, like the river had been sprinkled with glitter, transfixed me. I stood staring. Someone had placed a bench on the overlook.
I could sit for a while. I could rest.
My ribs hurt with every breath.
He’d be home at five.
I turned away from the river and the sparkling light. When I reached the rim of the valley and the street on which I lived, I passed by the dead and broken body of a deer, obviously hit by a car. My neighbor, sweet Elkie, ran out to speak to me. “Oh, isn’t it terrible. I saw the whole thing.”
She was all of five feet, slender, white hair. Her yard boasted a sign, “Wildlife Refuge,” which my husband claimed was her excuse for never mowing.
Hands on her face, she lamented, “It must have been frightened. Ran right out into the street.”
The repulsive, bloated corpse stank. Elkie waved a hand in front of her face. “Phew. Come inside. No one should smell death. It’s not healthy.”
“I can’t. I have to get home. It’s almost five.”
She patted my hand. “You know you’re always welcome.”
I hustled away. After all, I had to be there when he walked in, Tina’s new, strong, unbreakable, ceramic knife hidden in the deep front pocket of my apron. When he turned to put his change in the beer mug he kept by the door…
I trotted up the driveway; my cell rang. It was Holly—my beautiful Holly. I couldn’t answer it. Not now. Not when I was so close.
Ding—a voice mail.
I put on my apron, and nestled the knife into its hiding place. I stood by the door.
Tap, tap, tap.
What?
Outside, a cardinal sat on the window ledge tapping with his beak on the glass.
My husband’s 4X4 roared up the driveway.
Tap, tap, tap.
Holly loved cardinals. “They’re Christmas birds, Mom. Every day, all dressed up for a party.”
My heart raced. I couldn’t breathe. Holly? Did she need me? Was she hurt? I jerked around. My phone sat inches away on the counter. Shaking, I pressed voice mail. “Mom, I signed the lease. I’ve got my own apartment. It’s big enough for both of us. Come and live with me, Mom. You can get out. You can get out.”
He opened the door.
◊
I find that my stories are much more realistic, they ring true, now that I consciously add the whoosh of wings.
Want to know a secret? Volunteering can be your ticket to building a creative career platform.
Other professions have embraced the nonprofit strategy as personally fulfilling and professionally strategic. Lawyers work pro-bono, doctors cross borders to help those less fortunate, retired business people and teachers mentor those who need help starting their businesses or getting over a hump.
But nonprofits need more than counsel, they need the kind of exposure writers, filmmakers and artists can provide. Whether you’re looking for that first portfolio piece or expanding an already established career, aligning yourself with a nonprofit offers you a wealth of creative opportunities. Since you might know others in creative careers, here are some suggestions for writers, filmmakers, artists and even chefs and gardeners because creativity is never limited.
WRITERS AND/ OR FILMMAKERS
Profile a volunteer
Interview the administrator
Chronicle the history of the nonprofit
Write the newsletter
Write content for their website/blog
Spotlight the success stories of clients
ARTISTS/PHOTOGRAPHERS
Paint a mural
Design a fundraising invitation
Photograph the clients
Hold art/photography classes
Design a nonprofit’s newsletter
Design a non-profit’s logo
CHEFS/GARDENERS/ETC
Cook for a fundraiser
Landscape the building
Provide floral arrangements for benefits
There is no limit to the benefits you will receive by volunteering your creative services. You will build your portfolio, be introduced to businesses and clients that are ready to pay for your talent, and, above all, you will have made a difference with your words, your images and your creativity. There is no lack of drama at a nonprofit, all you have to do is seek it out.
Eric, my son and Peace Corps Volunteer who served in Albania, writes plays about his experiences. They are produced in Hollywood and the proceeds benefit the village in which he lives.
Sam, a well-known musician, teaches children stricken with cancer how to play the guitar. Because of his volunteer work, the local newspaper did a front-page article on his efforts.
Cheryl, an aspiring filmmaker interviews people in an assisted living facility and runs those interviews on her website calling attention not only to rich histories but also to her talent behind the camera.
Jackie painted a mural on the wall of a local library. She was credited for her work by the library and her work is seen every day of the year not only by those who visit the library but people who walk and drive by.
The next time you’re looking for a way to showcase your talent, look no further than your community. Your portfolio – and your heart – will benefit from your generosity.
Tari Lynn Jewett lives in Southern California with her husband of nearly thirty years (also known as Hunky Hubby). They have three amazing sons, a board game designer, a sound engineer and a musician, all who live nearby. For more than fifteen years she wrote freelance for magazines and newspapers, wrote television commercials, radio spots, numerous press releases, and many, MANY PTA newsletters. As much as she loved writing those things, she always wanted to write fiction…and now she is.
She also believes in happily ever afters…because she’s living hers.
https://twitter.com/TariLynnJewett
To celebrate being July Featured Author of the Month, Tari’s giving away one signed paperback copy of her first romantic comedy, #PleaseSayYes. For a change to win Tari’s book all you have to do is leave a comment on one of her posts this month (July 2019). She will be posting on the 1st, 7th, 14th, 21st and 28th. There are, of course, a few rules:
Tari’s giving copies of her ebooks to anyone who would like one—but this offer is only good for the month of July!
Lucy Vaughn, aka @LucySchoolmarm, can’t believe her eyes when she wakes on New Year’s morning to find a message from a secret admirer on her favorite social media site, and everyone in town sees it!
Each day he posts a photo giving her a clue as to who he is with a message letting her know he intends to ask her out for Valentine’s and the hashtag #PleaseSayYes. Before she can decide what to do, the posts go viral, and the whole world weighs in on whether she should say yes or no.
Should she take a chance? Will social media bring them true love, or keep them from finding each other? Only chocolate, wine and advice from her girlfriends can help her now.
#ValentinesIsComing #SecretAdmirer #PleaseSayYes
A note from Tari: Welcome to the Charmed Writers 2019 Flash Fiction Anthology! Charmed Writers is a special group of authors who support each other, learn together, share their knowledge and write together. We write in various genres and are at different places in our careers. In these pages, you’ll find stories from USA Today, NY Times and Amazon best-selling authors, from authors well on their way to achieving those goals, and new voices being read for the first time. There are science fiction and fantasy stories, historical flashes, romances and so much more.
We hope you enjoy our stories, find some new favorite authors and that you’ll join us in our Facebook reader group The Charmed Connection.
Happy Reading
Tari Lynn Jewett
From a Cabin in the Wood featured author is DT Krippene. DT is a contributing author in the recent BWG’s paranormal anthology, Untethered. A man buys a house for a price that is too good to be true, until he discovers the bizarre strings attached in “Hell of a Deal”. He’s also contributed articles for the Bethlehem Writers RoundTable with “Snowbelt Sanctuary”, and “In Simple Terms”.
A native of Wisconsin and Connecticut, DT deserted aspirations of being a biologist to live the corporate dream and raise a family. After six homes, a ten-year stint in Asia, and an imagination that never slept, his annoying muse refuses to be hobbled as a mere dream. DT writes dystopia, paranormal, and science fiction. His current project is about a young man struggling to understand why he was born in a time when humans are unable to procreate and knocking on extinction’s door.
<
p style=”text-align: left”>You can find DT on his website and his social media links.
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Writers have an abnormal predilection for planting themselves in a chair like a lone desert cactus, surrounded by nothing but sand, and wait for the words to rain. How is that even remotely natural?
After a writer’s conference last year, I took some time to reflect on what I’d learned, what I’d heard before, and why the hell I was still writing.
Our keynote speaker was NYT Bestseller, Bob Mayer, a former Green Beret who wrote the Area 51 series, as well as 70 other titles in fiction and non-fiction. We listened to advice on the standard elements of plot, story structure, character, the importance of tight narrative, and dangers of going off on tangents that don’t move the story. Anyone who has read my article from last year, ‘The Perils of Captain Tangent – a Pantser’s Writing Journey‘, knows I have an issue with side stories that end nowhere.
Bob shared a harsh lesson given to soldiers wanting to be Army Rangers, one easily applied to writer success. “Everyone stand up, look at the person on the right, then look at the one on the left. Only one of you is going to make it.” He reminded us that only five-percent of all writers ever finish a book, that five-percent get to the point of publishing the book, and five percent of those people ever get anywhere with it. In simpler terms, earning enough to buy a case of Yuengling beer is like winning the lottery.
For writers who’d never heard it before, the eagerness visibly drain from their faces. Reality bites. For me, the message I took away had less to do with sobering statistics I already knew, or the writing process I’ve been refining for years.
Growing up, I had an imagination fueled on nuclear ether. I tried to harness the chaos of that imagination by penning it on paper. A bit intense when gripping a pen, my fingers cramped within an hour. I got a D+ in high school typing class, unable to master a typewriter without buckets of whiteout and erasable bond paper. It would take access to a modern word processor and the ability to backspace and delete with impunity, before I struck up the nerve to start writing again many years later.
Thirty-plus years traveling for corporate America offered ample opportunities at boarding gates, on flights, and hotel rooms to write. While living overseas, I landed a non-paid gig writing articles for a local travel magazine. It was fun, and I acquired a small fan base.
Back to last year’s conference, they asked, “Why are you writing, and what’s your goal? How passionate are you about what you’re doing?”
Hell of a question. What do I want to be, besides thirty-years younger? I remembered a book I’d read about rebooting life when the distraction of a workaday world subsided. It asked similar, tough questions like, what gave me passion in my younger years. What was it I dreamt of as a kid?
The answer: I enjoyed times alone inside the chaotic ether of my imagination. After rendering to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, I wanted to mine that creativity and put it in words.
The stories came easy, but understanding the mechanics of plotting and structure was a different breed of cat. I can quote the basic laws of chemistry, but dangling participles was something I learned on the fly. My first 300-page attempt was a laughable exercise that encouraged (I am a writer, I am, I am, I am), and depressed me (Dear Occupant, thank you for your submission, but …). Not having a pedigree that comes with a Fine Arts education, I had a steep hill to climb.
The journey took me on a rediscovery of subjects I’d glossed over in secondary school, like grammar. The proper use of commas was enough to send me to the nut house. Thankfully, Word spell check kept me from giving up entirely. I networked with authors and joined writer groups. Surviving a critique process from fellow writers is not for the weak-hearted.
I went to conferences to learn about the business of getting published. Rejection by the hundreds required the skin of a stegosaurus. With the prolificacy of traditional and indie publishing (an unending tsunami of content in Bob Mayer’s words), being published today is akin to the lone salmon swimming downstream against the horny hoards going the opposite direction during spawning season.
“Old dogs must learn new tricks”, Bob Mayer said. Exhuming a passion, buried for decades in a lead-lined box of adult obligations, can be one of the hardest things in a person’s life. It felt good to hear a professional corroborate what I had to learn on my own.
I’ve published a few short stories, but have yet to find a market for the five books I’d written. A wonderful agent tried to market two books I wrote a few years back, but no takers. It amazes me that she still answers my emails after those first attempts. Her advice to me – keep writing.
Don’t have to ask me twice. Hell, I can’t help myself. When I’m not writing, I’m thinking about writing. I lost count how many times my wife caught me pacing a room with a blank look, lost in a scene inside the kaleidoscopic pandemonium of my imagination, when I should be cutting the lawn.
I just finished my sixth novel. Given the commentary from trusted beta readers, I still have some work to do. It isn’t because the story sucks. It’s about making it as good as it needs to be. I’m getting closer.
I’ll end it here. I have a story to edit. Have to make my own rain.
Oh, and the hyperactive muse who won’t let me sleep at night, is egging me to start a new idea.
Hmmm – wonder if I can do both at the same time?
A native of Wisconsin and Connecticut, DT Krippene deserted aspirations of being a biologist to live the corporate dream and raise a family. After six homes, a ten-year stint in Asia, and an imagination that never slept, his annoying muse refuses to be hobbled as a mere dream. Dan writes dystopia, paranormal, and science fiction. His current project is about a young man struggling to understand why he was born in a time when humans are unable to procreate and knocking on extinction’s door.
You can find DT on his website and his social media links.
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
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La Noche Before Three Kings Day is a perfect holiday tale.
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