Sacred writing time & space

Writers need to make their writing time and space sacred. I’ve heard this time and time again, from a variety of sources. And that’s fine and dandy (to use one of my grandmother’s phrases) if you can manage it, but there are many writers, myself included, who find that permanently claiming time and space for writing is extremely difficult. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t use at least the spirit of this idea when we write.

TIME

It’s ironic that I began writing on this topic five days ago, meant to sit down and finish it later that day, and have instead come back to it, first three days later, and then today, having written nothing in the meantime. I think that making time (as opposed to “finding time”) is the key, setting aside time in which I’m not doing laundry, or homework with the boys, or editing, or answering email, or marking papers, or the myriad other things that manage to creep into my so-called writing time. I’d love to be able to be one of those writers who can just schedule their writing time, and keep it scheduled. But that’s just not feasible for me at the moment. Work, family, school, and kids’ activities all have their impact on my schedule, which can change at a moment’s notice, and that’s just the way it is, at least for the near future.

For those writers, like myself, who are crazy busy, I think it’s more quality than quantity that counts. Taking those small, still moments when they come, embracing them, and just writing. That’s the key, as you never know when the next one might come. So if you can set aside a sacred time, by all means do so, but if you can’t, make sacred the few moments that you can carve out in which to write, whenever and wherever those moments might come.

SPACE

In our house, claiming space is very much like staking a territorial claim of sorts. If you don’t keep your territory defended, others will surely invade and overrun it. My writing space, the small doorless room off the back door of our elderly house, is a prime example. It’s the only convenient place to put things when people walk in the door, which means that it rapidly becomes home to sparring gear, hockey equipment, onion bags of soccer balls, school papers, and other random stuff. If I don’t keep my desk clean, the rest of the family rapidly takes it over, which makes it rather difficult to have a clean working space. So I do what I can to keep things tidy, and to at least have enough space in which I can physically write. It’s a constant battle, but one that I maintain for fear of completely losing my space.

Which leads me to wonder if that sacredness of space applies to the act of even temporarily laying claim to a space. It might be transient, like a camping spot, but it’s yours, at least for the time being. While I’d love to be able to have a space of my own that has an actual, physical door with which to keep everything else out, that’s not in the cards at the moment, as space is very much at a premium in our house. So, for the time being, I’ll continue to defend my small space, which may not have the sacredness of some writers’ inner sanctums, but at least it’s mine!

Fear and Possibility

Writing holds possibility, but there’s fear there, too. Some writers can admit it easily, and others can’t. I’m a firm believer in the idea that you need to name your demons before you can exorcise them. Inherent in the fear of possibility is the idea that we somehow won’t manage to show up on the page, that we won’t have any ideas, that what we’ve got to say is utter tripe, that no one will ever want to read what we’ve written, and that we’ll be ridiculed for what we have managed to write. I think a lot of my fear, the primary source of my road block to writing, is making time (not finding time). Making that time requires that I assign writing a higher priority than I normally would, making space for it in my life … not always easy when others don’t always see its value. During the busy winter months, making time to write is difficult, but I’m beginning to see it for what it is, an investment that must be made, and not something to put on the back burner for the elusive day when I “have more time.”

But it’s words on the page that matter most. That’s what I keep telling my students when I teach writing. Even if all I write is “I can’t think of anything to write,” that’s enough. And I’m always amazed, looking back, at what I’ve been able to write when I’ve squeezed in a few minutes, somewhere, somehow. As a primary example, I had a poem published last fall, a poem I literally scribbled on the back of a boarding pass in the Denver airport last year while my youngest son was in surgery in Phoenix and while I was trying to get there for when he woke up (which didn’t quite happen, but that’s another story).

Rambling aside, that blank page (or blank screen, if you write on a tablet or computer) can be a scary thing. There’s always the possibility that my brain’s empty, that everything idea in it has somehow managed to dribble out my ears in a macabre stream, leaving me a hollow shell. When the boys were wee, there were days that’s literally what I felt like, as if I’d been hollowed out, made empty, capable only of changing diapers and endlessly rocking our colicky eldest to sleep that never came. Deprivation, on so many levels, not just sleep, ruled my life, and paradoxically brought me joy at the same time. All of my writing from this period shows that paradox, in a variety of forms. In A Year of Writing Dangerously, Barbara Abercrombie mentions that there’s no way to hide who we are in our writing. That’s certainly true for my own writing. I can’t keep myself out of it, even if I wanted to, and I’m not sure that I do want to, as there’s value in those experiences, in the trials, tribulations, struggles, and outright battles that have taken place, both physically and mentally, over the years.

There is no safe journey to writing, to getting words onto the page. There’s introspection, memory, and lived experience, and there’s imagination, inspiration, hope, and love, all melted together into a chimeric muse that both torments and inspires. Writing isn’t easy, and I don’t necessarily think it should be, but it’s a necessity, as essential to who I am as my kids or breathing. Writing isn’t something I choose to do. It’s something I have to do, almost as if it’s an itch that’s just begging to be scratched. The only cure is to write.

Reflections

It's been almost two months since I posted ... not because I didn't have things to talk about, but because of a distinct lack of time (due in part to family commitments, work, and a nasty viral bronchitis that's pretty much side-lined me for the past 3 weeks).  This has been quite the year, with some significant ups and some even more significant downs.  I'm glad to be moving forward, with all that the new year, and the promise of a new start, brings.

I have a lengthy list of blog posts to write and share, an even longer list of writing projects for 2014, and a bit more writing time this go around, so here's hoping for a more prolific (and consistent) writing year.

So here's to the year that was, and to the year that will be.  Happy New Year, everyone!

Small town living

I had another post almost set to go when inspiration struck.  In talking with @MattKruchakCBC  the other morning about suburban sprawl and moving to a small town, I couldn't explain in 140 characters why moving out of the city was one of the best decisions we've made.  So rather than finish the article I was working on, this essay on small town living got written.   

Small Town Living

When we moved from the city to a small town seven years ago, I don’t really think we knew what we were getting into.  Or, at least, I didn’t.  I grew up in a Vancouver suburb, so moving to Main St. in a small Saskatchewan town was a bit of a culture shock for me.  But I had the perception in my mind that we were making a change for the better, and I can say now that I wouldn’t move back to the city, not unless it became an absolute necessity.

What drew us originally to a rural town was the cost of housing, which was substantially lower than in the city.  We were able to afford a larger house, on a significantly larger piece of property, than we’d have been able to afford in the city at the time.  And we’re not tied to a big mortgage, which means that we’ve been able to go more places and do more things than we might otherwise have been able to do.

There’s a sense of community here that I had never experienced in any of the cities in which I’ve lived.  People know each other, and look out for each other.  The disconnect that some people experience—particularly larger cities—from family, from friends, and from neighbours just isn’t here in a small town.  We’re not “bowling alone,” to use Robert Putnam’s phrase, and there’s a depth to our social capital that I’ve never seen elsewhere.  To put it bluntly, we’re invested in our community, and invested in each other. 

That investment can certainly have its down sides.  Yes, there are disagreements, and long-standing feuds that newcomers will likely never understand—like why the Town and RM councils seem to have difficulty working together.  But we can’t all agree on everything.  And it’s difficult, at times, for this socially-liberal, fiscally conservative feminist to see things from others’ points of view.  On the plus side, I’m getting better at biting my tongue when saying something just won’t do much good, which is a valuable talent to develop.  And people do know everyone’s business, at least to an extent.  When we got a new cat, a stray kitten found not far from the ferry road, people across town knew within minutes.  Although that’s partly my “fault,” for posting on Facebook that we’d retrieved it.  But, in all honesty, the intimate details of our lives are still intimate, unless we’re inclined to share.

In light of sharing, the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” comes to mind.  Living in a small community has reinforced my belief in this concept.  In the early summer, there were packs of small boys running rampant through my yard, and if my boys disappeared, I had a pretty good idea of where they’d gone.  We know their hockey coaches, their Kindergarten teacher has visited our house, and they’re already beginning to contribute to volunteer activities within the community, this year helping to get toys sorted and cleaned for the Christmas Miracles initiative, along with delivering suppers to Mrs. Claus when she gets so busy she forgets to eat.  They have many wonderful, positive role models in their young lives, which is a blessing, to be sure.

We’re relative newcomers to this small town, which is close to celebrating its 105^th birthday.  We live in the “Newton house,” even though our last names not Newton, we won’t ever be part of the town’s inner circle because our grandparents weren’t community founders, but we’re still a contributing part of this small community.  We work to keep tradition alive, doing odd things like giving out wieners (!) at Hallowe’en, serving on various boards and committtees, and generally contributing to the community’s social capital.  We may not always agree with our neighbours, but we’ll always be here to lend a hand … and I think that spirit is one of the most important gifts we can give our children.   

And chaos ensues!

I've been meaning to post, and every time I've thought I might have a few moments, something's happened.  Whether it's one of the dogs absconding with the little green army men, the boys staging a full-scale Star Wars / Angry Birds / Skylanders battle in the living room, or the recent mouse invasion (which we so are not going to talk about), I just haven't seemed to have much time.  Add to that the boys' fall activities, which are almost all into full swing and, well, it's been busy.

No, let's rephrase that:  in reality, it's been a crazy few weeks around here, which isn't unusual, except that those weeks have included the publication of two major projects that have taken up most of my "spare" time over the past several months.

Wolves and the River of Stone

This month will see the publication of Eric R. Asher's next book, Wolves and the River of Stone, the second in the Vesik series.  If you enjoyed the first, you're in for a treat with this book ... with lots more of Damian, Foster (everyone's favourite fairy), and lots of action, along with the obligatory American Civil War references.  The cover reveal just took place (awesome, isn't it?), and the official book release is slated for October 22.  Oh, and before I forget, here's the back cover blurb:

Philip, Zola’s boyfriend from one hundred and fifty years ago, is not nearly as dead as we thought. I really wish he was. Not only has he kidnapped Zola, but he’s raising an army to scour humanity from the earth. Hopefully the local werewolf pack will help. What could possibly go wrong?

Wolf Willow Journal

In addition to the editing for Eric's latest book, we've been busy putting together the first issue of Fish Creek Press' literary journal, Wolf Willow Journal.  The issue was released online last night, and ebook versions were released earlier today.  We're certainly excited to see the work of so many talented authors between its pages, and under our imprint.  Here's to many, many more wonderful issues!

Revisions, and why we do them

It's that time of year again, where teachers and students get down to the business of learning.  As many of you know, I teach writing.  And part of writing, and of teaching writing, is revision.  I have a fairly short assignment that I'm doing with one of my classes, one for which I asked students to submit a draft last week so that I could go through and suggest changes.  Only about half the class sent drafts to me originally, then I had a few stragglers submit theirs after the initial ones were returned.  I still have yet to see about a quarter of the assignments.

After the first batch of suggestions and edits, I told students several times to re-submit their work so that I could go over it again.  Less than half of those who submitted have done this, but more are trickling in now that I've begun to hand those back.

Those that haven't submitted drafts by now are out of luck, as the assignment's due next week and I don't see them again until Tuesday.  Of those who've only submitted a first draft, several have asked why they'd need to submit again, considering, as they put it, "You've already corrected all the mistakes, so why bother?"  Then there's the third group, some of whom are horrified to receive a second edited / commented draft that seems to have more writing on it than the first.

I think I'm going to have to put a handout together on the stages of editing, explaining what instructors (and editors) are looking for in the various drafts of a document.

Personally, I like to do at least four sets of revisions.  The first set focuses on larger problems, the most significant of which are barriers to reader comprehension.  The second set focuses on logic, flow, and (for technical writing) accuracy of content.  The third set involves a closer look at document flow, and a first-pass detailed edit.  It's not until the fourth set of revisions that I'm looking to do a detailed copy edit ... and that's if we've managed to get to this stage, as sometimes I have to do two or three passes looking for and fixing barriers to comprehension.

The long and short of it is that multiple edits are needed, especially if you want to produce the best possible document, whether it's a technical report, a poem, or a novel.

Rejections

I'm in the process of making final selections for the upcoming issue of Wolf Willow Journal.  It's been an interesting process, and one that I'm really enjoying.  But I'm fast approaching the point at which I'm going to have to send out a bunch of rejections.  And I'll admit that there's good work that's been submitted that I likely won't accept because it just doesn't fit with where the issue is going.

I was reading a post on one of my Facebook groups yesterday, where an author was bemoaning the fact that she'd sent a particular piece out five times, and received five rejections.  She was ready to give up.  There were the usual "editors have no idea what they're doing" responses, and there were the "I had to submit 200+ times to get x published" responses.  I've had work accepted the first time I've sent it out, and I've got other work that's been submitted numerous times, to no avail.  That seems to be the way it goes, with publishing.

So, what next for the poor writer?  Perseverance and belief in yourself are one key.  Making sure to do thorough market research is another key.  Submitting the best work you possibly can is another, and one that I harp on again and again because, well, it's important.  But none of these guarantee publication.  That's up to us fickle editors, unless you choose to self-publish.  But do remember that a rejection isn't necessarily a critique or comment on your work ... sometimes, it's excellent, but it just doesn't fit.

Perception and misperception

I'll admit it.  I'm a bit of a grammar snob.  Okay, more than a bit, but seriously people, if the first impression you're going to make on someone is through the written word, would you mind proofreading what you're sending out before you hit ?  The source of my ire this evening is a tweet from a popular provider of literary services, a tweet that suffered from a case of plural/apostrophe confusion.  I'm sure they're nice people, but I certainly wouldn't want my work edited by someone who gear's up for things.  

Snarking aside, there's a reason people suggest time and time and time again that your cover letter--whether for a poem, short story, article, book, or whatever--should be perfect.  This is the very first impression that people have of you and your work.  And, perception being what it is, we tend not only to favour first impressions, but also to hang on to negative first impressions.  Not what you want to be doing, especially if your intention is publication.  

So while a typo might be an oversight, the resulting misperception on the part of the reader about your grammatical prowess (and thus your overall writing abilities) is going to be difficult to change.  Take the time to carefully proofread everything you send out, otherwise you might find yourself the victim of misperception.  

Thinking about writing

We're back home, with a mountain of stuff to unpack, after having spent seven weeks at the lake, with somewhat limited Internet access; hence the dearth of posts over the last few weeks.

I'd love to say that I wrote lots, every day, but it didn't happen.  I was too busy having fun and doing stuff with the kids, and while I didn't do a lot of actual writing, I did do a lot of thinking, which got me thinking about thinking about writing.  Convoluted, I know, but there's a point here, if only a small one.

Sometimes, it's the thought that counts the most, the time spent behind the scenes before we put pen to paper and begin writing.  It's all the daydreaming, pontificating, whatever-you-want-to-call-it that we do when a character or idea is born.  It might not be present on the page that particular day, but a few scribbled notes is usually sufficient for later, for remembrance.  It's time spent exploring ideas, options, and the minutiae of a character or idea, background work, if you will, for when that character of idea is brought to life.  And it doesn't always have to happen before, but I really do think that it needs to happen to add the depth, breadth, and real-ness that our characters and ideas need.

So while this brief post, written in the midst of a seeming sea of Rubbermaid tubs begging to be unpacked, might seem only tangentially related to editing, I'm a firm believer that putting the thought into characters and ideas before editing is something truly worth thinking about.  Off now to ponder my latest project while putting away a summer's worth of clothes, toys, and other detritus.

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers: Where the People Are

It's been a busy, busy summer so far, and I'm just beginning to reach the almost caught up stage, just in time for things to get busy again in a few weeks.  In the meantime, I've been doing a lot of reading and editing, during which one thing has stood out:  where the people are.  I don't mean missing characters, or where they are in relation to your setting.  What I mean is where they areas the action's happening.  

I've read a few books lately where characters seem to teleport into and out of scenes on a regular basis. You think you left so-and-so back in the restaurant, and suddenly they're in the thick of the action ... but where'd they come from?  Were they there all along, or did they just appear?  Readers need to know.

So, when it comes to self-editing, take a close look at each scene and/or chapter, and at the characters who appear in it.  Is it obvious that they were present all along, or are they lurking in the corners, doing their best wall-flower impressions, only to leap into the action when they're needed most?  Continuity is important, as it prevents readers from being pulled out of the story by awkwardness, and a little bit of attention to detail in instances like these can go a long, long way.

Suggestions for new writers: Read, read, and read some more.

I've spent some of the morning reading through submissions for the fall issue of Wolf Willow Journal, and am, in between virtual meetings, trying to get submissions for novels and poetry chapbooks ported to my iPad so I can read them (and make notes) while we spend Thursday and Friday travelling to our summer house.

I'm currently scarfing down lunch, with a chaser of scalding hot espresso, while weeding through a pile of submissions.  I'm also adding to my list, which I'll post later this summer, of things poets (and other writers) should not do, under any circumstances.  But I've gotten sidetracked, which is wont to happen when I'm multitasking, so I'll rein my thoughts back in and set them back on their proper course.

Probably the single most important thing I can suggest new(er) writers do is this:  READ.  And don't just read a little.  Read a lot, an awful lot, then go read some more.  Read within your genre, read outside of it.  Read the good, the bad, and the ugly.  You'll learn something from all of it.  Now, go read even more.  Yes, I probably sound like I'm standing on a soapbox, preaching.  I am.  For a reason.  Reading will help you improve your writing!

One of the reasons that I suggest this is that reading gives you a broad perspective on how other people choose and use words, and to what effect.  It's one thing for me to tell a fledgling writer to broaden his or her use of language.  It's quite another to send them delving through various genres of literature, to see what others have chosen to do with language.  I can tell a new writer that Milton's language is full of vivid imagery, but that same writer is far, far better off to actually go read Milton (including Paradise Lost) and make notes on the passages and phrases that really strike a chord.

Now ... go read a book (or five)!

Self-editing for fiction writers: Character sketches & character continuity

It's been a busy week around here as I'm winding up a couple of editing projects, getting some of my own writing organized, and getting ready for summer holidays.  Part of my organizing was creating extensive character sketches for one of my works in progress.

I haven't always been a big fan of character sketches.  After all, the sketch doesn't end up in the finished work, so there's part of me that looks at it and thinks it's a waste of time.  As an editor, however, I can say that these are one of the most valuable things you can write for your work.

Writing is, for many of us, an organic process.  Many fiction writers eschew outlines, and those who do use these find that sometimes characters develop minds of their own and go off in unexpected directions.  This is one place in the editing process that character sketches can really help.  If we know that we're dealing with a 100-year-old vampire, are we going to expect that same character, on a whim, to start behaving like a whiny teenager?  Likely not.  If we have a complete sketch of that character, we're going to have a far better idea, as writers and editors, of (1) how to identify when a character is behaving "out of character" and (2) how to fix that behaviour so it is in character.

My best suggestion, to improve character continuity and ensure that characters behave and react appropriately, is to make sure that you know what is appropriate for that character.  It might be as simple as creating a one-paragraph character sketch, describing the character from his/her own point of view.  Or it might be more complicated, involving a character "interview" using a tool such as the Proust Questionnaire or one of the many other character questionnaires available online.  Regardless, it's time well spent.  And anything that decreases editing time is a good thing, in my books!

Staying out of the slush pile: Cover / submission letter hints

I've been going through submissions to both Fish Creek Press and Wolf Willow Journal this morning in anticipation of doing a bit of reading over the weekend.  If you're like me, you've done a bit of reading about covering letters, synopses, and the like before submitting your work.  Or maybe you've ignored convention altogether.  Regardless, I'm quickly beginning to see why some work doesn't get read, and a lot of it has to do with covering letters.

Just like a job application, for many editors and presses, the cover letter (or email) is the first thing we read.  In a job application, the purpose of the cover letter is to get your resume read.  In publishing, there's little difference, because your cover letter's entire purpose is to get us to read the first page of your submission.  So please, put a bit of effort into it.

Personally, I don't particularly care what your publishing credentials are, what you've published, where it's been published.  These are nice to know, but because I'm an editor by trade, I'm not even as concerned with polish as some other editors and publishers might be.  What I am looking for, however, is a spark of *something* that I just can't define, that little *pop* that makes me want to know more about your character / topic / whatever.  Without that, a work falls flat and, as an editor, there's only so much I can do, which is why a slightly rough manuscript with verve has a far better chance, at least with me, than a perfectly polished one that's lifeless.

I'm digressing a bit, but it's because I'm passionate about books, about writing, and about stories, above all else.  So how does this help you write a cover letter?  Well, you'll need to make sure you've covered the basics (the who, what, why, etc.) of your submission.  Then edit your letter.  Please?  I received one the other day where the word "editors" hadn't even been spelled correctly.  Then give me a reason to keep reading.  Just as with a job application, I want to know what's in this for me as an editor, as a publisher, and most importantly as a reader.  Why should I read your manuscript?  What's there that I won't find anywhere else?   

Look at examples (and there's lots of those available), but make sure that yours is uniquely ... well ... yours.  Put some personality into it, and don't (heaven forbid) just copy and paste something from the Internet.  Editors do know when that happens.  Really.

Best of luck with your submissions!

Self-editing for writers: Don't edit while you write!

You've got an awesome idea, and have only to get it down on the page.  So you sit down, pen in hand (or fingers on keyboard) and you start writing.  Only you don't like the look of your first sentence, so you go back and revise it.  Then you look at the next two, which aren't stellar either, and revise them.  You write another sentence, then discover another error with your *first* sentence, so you go back and revise that, then an error leaps out from the sentence that you've just written, so you fix it.

STOP!  This kind of writing leads to two things:  a perfect first paragraph, page, chapter ... and nothing else because you haven't written anything else.  Too busy editing, you've forgotten about writing.

I know it's difficult.  We all want our writing to be perfect, but that doesn't mean it has to start out that way.  Words on a page (or series of pages) first, then revise and edit.  Please, please, don't edit while you write.  That way lies madness (and a heaping pile of unfinished manuscripts)!  So don't forget about your writing.  Do it first, and fix it later.  There'll be plenty of time for that when your manuscript is complete.

Introducing Wolf Willow Journal

It's been busy around here for the last month.  In addition to beta-reading for Tricia Ballad's Daughter of Oreveille, editing the sequel to Eric R. Asher's Days Gone Bad, and editing for Raymond Douglas Chong's latest book of poetry, I've had a few other things on the go.  And, surprise, surprise, these other things include more writing and editing.  ;-)

After more than a few minor delays (life happens, eh?), my publishing company's newest publication, Wolf Willow Journal, has its very own, brand new website and is now open for submissions for its Fall 2013 edition.  

Are you ready?

I'm inching toward the finishing touches on my spring project, which got delayed when the youngest broke his arm and needed a *lot* more care and attention than normal.

Things are slowly falling into place, and I hope to be able to make the official announcement by the middle of the month.  In the meantime, I'll admit that I'm getting excited to see this project come to fruition ... and am even more excited that there are still two more to come this year, as editing and publishing become a larger part of my writerly life.

Self-editing for fiction writers: Starting over

Have you ever had one of those moments, when a manuscript gets rejected for what seems to be the umpteenth time, with a short form letter, and you think:  but I *know* this is good?  I think most of us have, and if you haven't, you're pretty damned lucky ;-)  Yes, there are famous writers whose work was rejected many, many times before it was published, but there are also those who went back to the drawing board, redrafting their work time and time again.  And that's where I'm going to suggest that you start again, from scratch.

I have a couple of short stories floating around in the moment, both of which were finished at the last minute (yes, even I don't follow all of the rules all of the time), which did manage to get shelved for a few days before that final edit, but something about each doesn't quite sit right with me, even now.  The one has issues primarily with the final scene, so I'll revisit that one another day, but this week's major writing project is the revision of second of these two stories.

This second story's premise is sound, the plot line is good, but it doesn't quite strike home the way I'd like it to.  My solution?  Rewrite the whole thing, from scratch.  I've got my notes, there's no dithering around about what happens, but I need to tell this story in a different way.  I'll likely keep the perspective the same, telling things from the point of view of the protagonist, but there are other details that I think should change, and which will change, if I can keep myself from referring to the original draft.

It sounds a bit odd ... after all, you've already written the story, so why re-write it?  But it can and does work.  You may not keep the second draft, but you may find that there are elements of that second draft that, when pieced together with the original, make a much, much better whole.  Sometimes it's just a change in perspective, other times it's a change in tone, different details ... the myriad ways in which the human mind works.  So try it out.  See what happens.  You just might surprise yourself with the results.

Self-editing for poets: Kill your darlings

Okay, okay ... I know it's a cliche, but sometimes they're the best thing to use because they epitomize what you're talking about, so it makes sense to embrace them, at least once in a while.  I've been doing a lot of poetry editing of late, of both my work and my clients' work, and the one thing I'm really noticing, at least in my own, is that sometimes (okay, to be honest, it's most of the time) those lines that you think are just perfect ... they're the ones that have to go.

I'm not sure why this is, but sometimes I suspect that these lines are meant to be the behind the scenes essence of the poem, something that needs to be written, but which shouldn't remain on the page.  Sometimes, I'll write a poem that's darling-less, but not often.  Usually there are one or two (or more) lines that I look at and say to myself, "This, this is just perfect."  Then I cringe, knowing full well that those are the very lines I will likely need to cut.  It's amazing, too, the impact that these cuts will have.  Somehow, other lines and words that were good, but maybe a bit flat, spring to life.  Then, with a bit of pruning of the remaining lines, the poem shines just a bit more brightly.

So give it a try ... take those darlings and push them to the side, and see where your newly bereft poem takes you.  And if you can't quite bear to part with your darlings entirely, you can always save them for another day, another poem.  I have an entire section of my poetry journal that's devoted to poem-less darlings.  What I'll do with them?  No idea.  BuUt at least they're not entirely gone.  ;-)

Writing in circles

I actually had a bit of quiet writing time this morning, courtesy of a new Skylander the boys got yesterday.  I had some recent research sitting in an Evernote folder, my list of upcoming theme deadlines on my desk ... and a very blank page staring back at me.  It's times like this where I end up writing in circles, or so it seems, but those circles can certainly bear fruit, although not always in the way you expect them to.

The I'd chosen to work on this morning was, ironically, work.  I had an idea half formed in my head, one I'd been kicking around for a few days.  But once I put the character on the page, she just sat there like one of those chipboard figures.  Static, not moving, and very, very stock.

So, after a glare at the page, I poured another cup of coffee and sat down to write circles around her.  Questions emerged, like why she was stock, what things could I change about her, about the situation, about the story in general?  I wrote about work, about women's work, about perceptions of work, of differing valuations of work, of paid and unpaid labour, and many, many other things.  I didn't exactly get the short story I'd sat down to write written, but I did end up with a lot of material I'll be able to use for other projects.  I got to thinking about what I didn't like about her (she was too much of a wimp, no backbone) and what I didn't like about her husband (seemed to have been teleported into existence from the 1950s).  I've got a pretty good idea of where I'm going to take this story (and character) from here, and have some pretty extensive notes, but I'll come back to her later.

This kind of writing feels odd at first.  The easiest way to describe it is "brain dump," where every single thought that comes into your brain gets written onto the page.  No editing or censoring allowed.  You'll be amazed at the weird directions your mind goes, but when you go back through what you've written (which I don't recommend doing for a day or two), I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at what's lurking there.

Self-editing for fiction writers: Character "voice" in dialogue

I sat down this morning, requisite cup of coffee in hand, to take a close look at a short story I'd written a few months back.  It's one of those stories, the ones that you know have a good character and good plot arc, but there's something a bit off that you can't quite put your finger on.  This particular piece has been workshopped twice, to a bevvy of wonderful comments, but the slight problem lingers, which irks me.

A close inspection now, after having shelved it for a few months, revealed a small, but significant problem:  the main character's voice wasn't appropriate in the dialogue.  She's in her early sixties, children grown and gone, a housewife (how I hate that term, but that's a story for another day) with little confidence in herself and her abilities, grew up in the late 50s, and is a consummate worrywart.

She doesn't say much, 28 words out of 727, and only two lines of dialogue, which was part of the problem.  Those two lines were significant, which had been my intention, but I hadn't looked closely enough at exactly what she was actually saying in those two lines.  And therein lay the problem.  She'd lost a bit of her lack of confidence (and for no apparent reason), her words displaying a surety about herself that she shouldn't have possessed (a surety I only caught when I went through and read the dialogue, and nothing else, aloud).  A few minor changes, along with the addition of a bit more nonverbal communication on her part, and I'm pretty sure the problem's solved.

Congruency and consistency across and within characters is important, so make sure, when editing, that your character's dialogue (and "voice") match the character you've constructed.  Also, because dialogue is meant to be spoken, it's a good idea to read it aloud.  If your character doesn't quite sound "in character," it's likely that they aren't.