Writing through Familiarity Blindness

Oak leaves are falling and a few yellow sweet gum stars as well. But the temperature was in the low 90’s (32°C) over the weekend, and it seemed silly to hang my autumn wreath and put out pumpkins on the front porch. The Weather Channel tells me cooler air will arrive next week. I hope they make good on their promise.

I developed a fresh appreciation for the asphalt-melting heat here in Georgia when my family and I vacationed in Seattle a few years ago. It was August, but we shivered as we piled into the rental car and set the heat on High. We drove to Mt. Rainier and marveled at the patches of snow. Even in winter, it hardly ever snows in middle Georgia.

Turns out, other places are different.

They don’t serve grits in Maine. And I didn’t see a shred of Spanish Moss in Arizona. For all its glorious wildlife, alligators don’t live in Yellowstone. And when the thermometer reaches 45°F here in the South, and I shiver and complain because I’m freezing, I realize I don’t know what cold is.

I’ve written before about Writing What You Don’t Know. But writing what you know is not always easy.

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lovebugs, photo by Daniel McLendon

How do you describe a place that is so familiar, you take its idiosyncrasies for granted? Sometimes, I’m blind to the details which make my region unique. Peculiarities such as fried okra, syrupy-sweet tea, and lovebugs.

So here are a few tricks that help me write about my home. Maybe they’ll help you, too:

  1. Travel: Visit other places and note the differences.
  2. Take photographs: If you’re having difficulty seeing anything remarkable about your setting, a photo may help. It places distance between you and the real thing. Sometimes you’ll see things you hadn’t noticed before.
  3. Interview people who live outside your region: Ask them what is odd or unique to your home. What is amusing? Annoying? What do they like best? Least?
  4. Interview people who live inside your region: What do they love about their home? What do they like least? What makes them proud? Ashamed?
  5. People-watch: Go to a park or restaurant and eavesdrop (politely). What colloquialisms do you hear? What do the people look like? How do they dress? How do they interact? Here in the South, it’s polite to smile and say “hey” to strangers, but folks in the north eye me suspiciously when I do that.
  6. Research: Read about your town or region. Someone else’s outlook can help you view the familiar through different eyes. One of my favorite authors is Rick Bragg who writes about the South with humor, beauty, and true love.

Bragg’s time in New York gave him a fresh perspective, and my trip to Seattle did the same for me.

When our vacation ended that August, we left the cool, invigorating air of Washington and felt the full force of the Georgia summer upon our return. We landed in Atlanta in the middle of a heat wave, which is saying something. The temperature was over 90°F — at midnight. The sliding doors opened to the Hartsfield-Jackson parking deck, and I can still remember how we groaned when we stepped outside. It was as if we’d hit an almost-solid wall of heat and humidity.

But I’ll take the heat. Like your well-meaning Aunt Martha, who makes the best banana pudding in the world but also makes a habit of buttin’ into everybody’s business, you take the good with the bad. Love, for a person or a place, covers a multitude of sins.

Thanks for reading, y’all.

 

 

 

 

 

Flash Fiction: All the Trapped Stars

A few months ago I challenged myself to write a story under 300 words. Here’s the result at 293.

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All the Trapped Stars

The day after the tornado fell from a starless sky, and like a mosquito’s proboscis, sucked away her house and life as she knew it, Clare sifted through the debris. She searched for irreplaceable things – photos, keepsakes, heirlooms. Two-by-fours and bricks mingled with soggy books and sneakers in a bitter stew.

“Play on the swings while I look, sweetie,” she told her son. “And Luke, keep Sophie away from the rubble. Too much broken glass.”

With a churning stomach, Clare started in what had been the den. She found the cover to The Three Little Pigs, a carboard page from Good Night Moon, Sophie’s doll minus the limbs. A key to a house which no longer existed.

“Find anything?” yelled Luke. Which meant, did you find my Legos?

“Find anything?” Sophie echoed, playfully.

Clare hid the mangled doll behind her back and shook her head.

In the roofless garage, under crisscrossed wooden beams, lay a purple box – wet, warped, but uncrushed. Inside was Grandma Bett’s Waterford crystal bowl.

The cut angles caught the sun and flashed triangles of color, just the way it had on Grandma Bett’s dining room table when Clare, like Sophie, was five. She wasn’t allowed to touch it, so she’d walk around the table to examine the sparkles from different perspectives. She’d count all the trapped stars.

“Look!” she called to the children as she walked to the patio. “Not a scratch on it!” Ha! What were the chances?

Sophie asked, “Can I hold it?”

Clare placed the bowl in her small hands, and Sophie held it up to the sun like an offering.

Then, with the sound of a myriad celestas, the bowl crashed onto the concrete, scattering the light, freeing the stars.

 

 

The More Things Change…

Wodehouse A Damsel book cover

“Unfortunately, in these days of rush and hurry, a novelist works at a disadvantage. He must leap into the middle of his tale with as little delay as he would employ in boarding a moving tramcar. He must get off the mark with the smooth swiftness of a jack-rabbit surprised while lunching. Otherwise, people will throw him aside and go out to picture palaces.”

                           A Damsel in Distress by P.G. Wodehouse, 1919

Note: “picture palaces” = elaborate movie theatres

On Writing Dangerously

Over the weekend, I read Dean Wesley Smith’s Writing into the Dark: How to Write a Novel without an Outline. No doubt, he’s received criticism for his ideas. But I’m not here to add to that.

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image from Pixabay

Smith’s advice runs counter to most books I’ve read. Not only does he recommend writing without an outline, his Rule #3 states that after you’ve finished the first draft, you should not rewrite. Period.

He also says he never rereads his stories after he finishes them.

Yikes! What a terrifying thought! Like choosing a pair of pants and a shirt from your closet with your eyes closed, then leaving the house for a job interview without checking the mirror.

In truth, Smith does reread small segments. His method involves “cycles” of revision. He writes a few hundred words, revises, then writes a few hundred more. He “outlines” as he goes, jotting down a summary of each finished chapter. But he doesn’t know where his story is going. Like Abraham in the Old Testament who left his home “not knowing whither he went.”

Mapping Out the Story

Each day, we live our lives into the unknown. We set goals and make plans to reduce uncertainty, but if we are too dogged with our agenda, we become rigid. Predictable. Boring. And bored.

And this can happen with our writing as well.

I’ve been reading books about story structure, trying oh-so-hard to outline, and using software designed to micromanage my story’s plot, themes, setting, and characters. There’s nothing wrong with approaching the craft this way. It works for a lot of authors.

And yet, I can’t find a compelling reason to keep writing. There’s nothing to explore. I’m bored with the story before I’ve started the rough draft.

Tossing Out the Map

Though I can’t embrace all of Dean Wesley Smith’s recommendations, here are three take-aways from his book:

  • “Enjoy the Uncertainty”

Replace fear of the unknown with excitement, and enjoy the random ideas that take you — and your readers — to unexpected places.

  • “Entertain Yourself”

Don’t forget to have fun! This means playing with a sense of wonder or absurdity:

Your shy, introverted heroine stepped into the bakery for a gluten-free, low-carb, lemon curd Danish, but she robbed the place instead! And the ATM on the corner shot out classified documents instead of cash….

  • “Think for Yourself”

In D.W.S.’s words:

“All writers write differently. And that includes you. My way of producing words won’t be correct for anyone but me. So instead of listening to others looking for the secret, just go home, sit down at your writing computer, and experiment with every different form and method until you find the way that produces selling fiction that readers like and buy. Find your own way to produce words that sell.”

Writing into the Dark is a counterweight for those who advocate extreme outlining. If you’ve lost your creative spark or your enjoyment of writing, this book is for you.

The Best Piece of Writing Advice I Ever Received — A Writer’s Path

by Meg Dowell You don’t know which projects are going to succeed, and which ones are going to fail. Many people assume that because I’ve been writing for a long time, I now do so professionally, and I give advice on my blog, I’m the expert who knows it all. And with that […]

via The Best Piece of Writing Advice I Ever Received — A Writer’s Path

(Re)Framing Rejection Slips

 

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image from Pixabay

I got an email rejection letter today. It’s not the first. 

I printed it out for posterity. Stephen King tacked all his rejection slips to the wall. He thought it was important to keep them, so I will, too. (Not that I’m in the same class as Stephen King.)

“By the time I was fourteen, the nail in my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replaced the nail with a spike and went on writing.” from On Writing 

By the time I was fourteen…

Wow! I need more rejection slips!

They are proof that I’m actually writing and submitting. Rejection letters are not signs of failure, but records of my effort. 

Not dead ends, but detours to different paths.

Stories abound of famous writers who were rejected but persevered, winning literary prizes and becoming best-selling authors. Hemingway. John Grisham. Madeline L’Engle. Rudyard Kipling.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was rejected twelve times before publication. (Not that I’m in the same class as J.K. Rowling either.)

Rejection letters can be excellent motivators, unless you consider them the last word on your manuscript’s value, which you should not do. And they should never be used as an excuse to quit altogether.

Dean Wesley Smith wrote a great post titled “Only You Can Kill Your Writing.”

“…it is always the writer who makes the decision to quit. The failure is always self-inflicted.”

The entire article is worth a read. Here’s hoping you are enjoying the process of writing and collecting your rejection slips with pride.

Details, Details…Mining Your Life for Ideas

 

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Me, with a new idea. Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Ah, there’s nothing like being infatuated with a new story idea.

I’m over-the-moon excited when a fresh tale is brewing in my mind, because this one will be the best ever!  I’m prone to rush headlong into my manuscript, hitting the juicy highlights of the narrative. But the devil is in the details…

The Problem of Weak Writing

“Details.” That’s what my literature professor said I lacked when I (tearfully) asked her why I couldn’t earn more than a B on my papers. What I thought were precise essays were actually vague. And boring.

The fix? Brainstorming. For the next essay, I chose my topic, then I made a list of all the relevant ideas I could think of before I sat down to write. The result? An A. 

Details — especially those involving the senses — breathe life into a story and cast a spell of verisimilitude that pulls in the reader: The hour-glass birthmark on your antagonist’s forehead. The leaning tower of books in the den and the frayed fabric on the easy chair. The way your protagonist’s mouth quivers before she answers her opponent.

Without them, characters are lackluster, rooms are empty, and plot holes abound.

How can you imagine all those necessary details?

Draw from everyday experiences. 

Even mundane items — small things — can lead to big developments. For example, simple clues — a ladybug tattoo, a missing key, a white pill — may identify the murderer in a who-done-it.

I like to carry a notepad in my pocket as I go through my day and jot down my observations, or record them in a voice memo on my phone.

Here are a few little details I noted while doing my morning chores. I may use them in my new masterpiece novella:

  • Outside my kitchen window, the yellow faces of sunflowers swayed in the wind.
  • Bacon popped in the microwave, and the aroma filled the room.
  • I accidentally hit the lever on the mixer while it was in the up position. The paddle spun at high speed and slung muffin batter all over the kitchen — and me.
  • Upside-down bats lined the wooden frame over the barn door.

I might use the mixer episode in a humorous scene as my protagonist tries to impress a potential love interest who works as a chef. Or the image of the bats would enhance a gloomy, suspenseful atmosphere in a mystery. You get the idea.

Natalie Goldberg says this in Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within:

“Life is so rich, if you can write down the real details of the way things were and are, you hardly need anything else….Using the details you actually know and have seen will give your writing believability and truthfulness.”

How do you mine your everyday life for ideas? Let me know in the comments.

Write for Your Tribe

Are You Disheartened?

Have you thought about giving up this writing thing?

Have you wondered if you should devote so much time to this endeavor? Whether you should risk your sanity for it?

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Pixabay

Is it worth all the SACRIFICE when you get so little in return? So little validation. So many rejection letters.

No money. Nil.

Or perhaps your half-finished story has never seen the light of day. You’ve hidden it in a drawer or on a hard drive, too afraid to show anyone. Too afraid to finish.

Meanwhile, your writer friends publish their work, get noticed, climb the rankings on Amazon. A few have published with the Big Five, won Pulitzers, and made millions. These may or may not be your personal friends, but they write the books you read.

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

You suspect your writing is not on the same level as theirs. You feel like a dandelion amongst roses. Like Ira Glass explained, a gap exists between what you admire – your taste – and your ability.

Should You Quit?

Perhaps the better question is, Can you quit?

Discouragement sets in because writing is hard. Believe me, crocheting is much easier. Or knitting.

Can you give it up and keep your sanity? If the answer is yes, then you can take up a more rewarding hobby. Like knitting. (I’m not knocking knitting. I have two projects going right now.)

Or maybe you’ll choose to do the hard thing because you want to write. Or you need to write. And you hate knitting.

And maybe you’ll decide that success isn’t measured by rankings or money or even popularity. Maybe success means making a small difference in the world.

Your Mission, If You Choose to Accept It

STAY THE COURSE. Don’t give up.

No one else can write with your unique perspective, with your experiences, your voice.

You might object, “Too many voices are clamoring to be heard already!”

But none of them are yours. You are the only one who can write your way. You are the only one with your voice.

If you study the craft, if you do the work, you WILL inspire someone else. If your story, poem, picture or post can help one, anonymous person, is it worth it?

Keep writing. Accumulate a body of work, and your influence will grow. You may not win a Pulitzer. You may never make a bestseller list. But you will reach the right people – your people – with your authentic words.

It’s about writing — and sharing — one true thing.

Be yourself. In time, your voice will find readers. Your readers. Write for your tribe.

Are You Lost in Writing Fog?

 

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Pixabay

Panic at 3500 Feet

One bright morning, my husband and I flew in his little Maule MX-7 from our crooked, grass strip to his parent’s house sixty miles away. As we cruised toward the sun, a few cotton-ball clouds dotted the patchwork of fields below us, but the skies above were clear.

Ten minutes later, a solid white blanket cloaked the ground.

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Photo by Life Of Pix on Pexels.com

Fog is intimidating when you’re on the road, but it’s downright hair-raising from the air, especially for this white-knuckle flyer.

After vowing silently never to fly again, I pointed out the obvious to my husband. “We can’t land in this!”

“It’ll lift before we get there,” he said, his hands firmly on the control wheel.

We followed the straight line on the GPS screen until we reached the destination point — his father’s farm. We circled the area and searched for an opening in the clouds but found none.

Anxiety taunted me: What if the fog doesn’t lift for hours! The plane will run out of fuel!

We circled again. I prayed, HARD. After one more go-around, the summer sun burned a hole in the fleecy cover, and we were able to land.

Despite my doubts, my husband knew what he was doing. He had studied the forecast and knew the weather conditions – dew point, temperature, and wind – were improving.

How Are Your Writing Conditions?

Sometimes, even the most conscientious scribblers inadvertently create their own WRITING FOG — a hazy state of confusion and bewilderment. Momentum slows, and finishing — or starting – a project becomes a tricky prospect.

If this occurs while you’re working on a story, you can’t see where the plot is heading. Or maybe your theme becomes fuzzy.

You may encounter Writing Fog between projects: one work is complete, but your vision for the next is blurry. You become disoriented, panicky, uncertain of your goals. You’re afraid you’ve lost creative energy. You’re afraid of crashing.

What Causes Fogginess?

Lack of planning. When I was a homeschooling mom, I was a dedicated (compulsive) planner. I scheduled every thirty minutes of my day. If I didn’t, I couldn’t get the laundry done. Or the meals. Or anything.

But I reached a point where my ever-increasing To Do list was making me nervous. So, I swung to the opposite extreme and NEVER made a schedule. No plans, no calendars, no lists. This also had its problems, such as missed appointments, late bills, and a serious lack of focus.

Winging it with your writing will give you similar results. That’s not to say you must write a fifty-page outline before you draft your story. And it’s okay if you can’t envision exactly what your next project will be. But a little planning can prevent you from getting lost. Think of it as GPS for authors.

Over-thinking.

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Pixabay

This condition is a symptom of the never-ending, futile quest for Perfection. It’s a trap. A labyrinth of circular thoughts which leads right back to Start, or worse, to No-man’s-land. When you over-think, you edit beyond the point of practicality. Is revising your work for the thirty-ninth time really going to make a significant difference? Or are you simply stalling? Finish the thing already. Excessive analyzing stems from not trusting yourself, which leads to another pitfall…

Too much advice. I love my writing podcasts, blogs, vlogs, courses, books, and #writingtips. But they can be too much of a good thing. All the brilliant but conflicting voices become a jumble of blah, blah, blah, until I don’t know what to believe. One expert says to create extensive character profiles; another says to allow characters to grow organically. Who’s right? In the end, you should go with your gut.

Over-dependence on others’ advice makes you passive. Passivity leads straight into the pea-soup of self-doubt and indecision.

If you’re in a muddle, and you can’t see the next story, the next scene, or the next sentence, consider whether one of these three conditions is to blame. Here’s hoping the mist will clear and bring your thoughts back into focus.