Looking Up Instead of Through

You know I said I was taking a sabbatical, but you also know that when something is demanding to be written, there is nothing for a writer to do except sit down and write it. Bear with me because this is a long post.

I’ve been at war with my current WIP. The words are not coming as easy as I’d like, and I am acting like a spoiled child, stamping my foot to get my way. I’m demanding the characters do this or that, and the rebellious jerks are giving me the finger. Quite rightly, too. Because I’m not listening. Not to them and not to what’s happening in my life.

These past months since I moved to San Francisco, my world has been changing. Not the way I usually force change into my life with a flick of my fingers or a blink of my eyes. (A bad habit I picked up along the way so I don’t have to face my ghosts.) This change feels slow and whispery, something beyond my control. I don’t know where it’s taking me, but I can sense it in the air. My priorities are shifting in this immutable way, and it’s like water beating a rock to submission. At first, I kept trying to dodge change by staying in motion. Let me tell you – it doesn’t work. Something so inevitable can take its time coming. Like Rocky, it can wait for you to tire yourself and stop swinging away at the wind. You’d think I’d know this after years of trying to run my life like everything from birth to death can fit on a page in your planner, but obviously it’s a lesson that needs relearning.

So, I’ve been doing these things that I normally wouldn’t. Taking the long way to get places because I like the drive. Sitting in a park to stare at the clouds and dreaming up three absurd things they resemble. Visiting a farmer’s market to buy fresh flowers and taking time to admire them in the window. Growing herbs on my windowsill and being pleasantly surprised by their scent in my kitchen. Laying in the middle of my living room floor and listening to music while a breeze blows.

Stopping. Slowing. Breathing things in. Enjoying the stillness.

My perspective is changing. Rather, I’m doing what writers should do. I’m enjoying the different perspective I bring to life. As people and writers, we get so caught up in trends. The dos and don’ts. The next big werewolf/vampire/angel/dystopian craze. We forget that the writers we remember are the ones who broke the rules first. As writers, it is our job to notice the things most people don’t. We try to say it in a new way that feels familiar at the same time. We help people find the stillness in their busy lives.

Here are some things I’m noticing these days.

This tree looks completely different

when I stand under it and look up

This door is a boring closet door

Except it has this amazing keyhole

And this cool brass plate that reeks of history.

This framed poster and lamp are imperfect

But the scratched, glassless poster reminds me of my brother who drove me to SF to hang it (and break it in the process)

And the milk glass lamp was a gift from my sister who drove to SF to help me place it under this poster.

This cedar chest takes up my dining area so my guests have to eat sitting on my living floor

My brother bought it beat up at an estate sale during a time when he was heavily using drugs. When he showed me the ugly, beat up box, I wanted to cry at how far my brother was gone. A year later, he cleaned up and showed me the beauty he’d seen in this broken thing I’d had no use for. This is carved in the lid that he pieced back together.

And here is my messy refrigerator

With a note from my agent requesting my full, my asthma action plan, magnets from cities I’ve visited, and this note my mom wrote me on her waitressing order pad when I was 14 and nervous for my first day of cheerleading. (She has no idea I would value this, and there is a story in that, too.)

And what about these shelves of frames I’ve had up for nine months – without pictures in them?

And then there are the pictures that speak to me…like this empty chair at a table

or this whimsical, slightly sad girl

Or this whimsical,slightly sad girl (me at 20 with my mom)

The things we carry with us from place to place. The way we see things. They help us to tell our stories. They help us to find the stories in our lives and the lives of others. We forget that when we get caught up in forcing things into our boxes. Try changing your perspective. Be still and look around your life. Lay on your floor to see things in a new way. Hang upside down, if that’s what it takes.

Shh… Wait for it. Do you hear a story forming that’s all your own?

Summer Sabbatical

I'm going old school, baby

School, my day job, travel, and all my online socializing have sucked my free time into a black hole recently. As many of you know, it is too easy to spend what little precious writing time we have in the wrong places. It is WAY past time for me to get down to some serious writing on my novel. To that end, I am taking a brief – I’m talking weeks here – sabbatical from the online world. I may pop in from time-to-time (when I’m dying of loneliness or need a breather), but for the most part, I’m going MIA for the next few weeks.

Do not call out the hounds.  I’ll be back in July with more writing tips when I have some serious words under my belt. In the meantime, enjoy the soundtrack from my current work in progress, Interior of a Heart, and know that I am most likely sitting in a Starbucks listening to the same song as you. (Come to think of it, don’t imagine that. It sounds creepy in a stalkerish kind of way. Just listen to the songs, and don’t imagine me at all. Imagine you are sitting ALONE in a car while it storms through the car wash. That’s much better, right?)

Love,

MFA Crash Course: The Winners!

You followed along for ten (well, eight) glorious days of tips. My residency at Spalding University was crazy with every minute of the day accounted for with some lecture, reading, or bit of homework to do. The writers I met awed me with their talent. Some of my favorite moments were spent lounging with friends on the couches in the lobby of the Brown Hotel. A couple of memorable moments included:

• Writers singing impromptu Spalding-versions of The Sound of Music songs
• Cramming into an elevator with four classmates and two actors to watch elevator plays
• Drinking my first bourbon at the Seelbach – where Al Capone used to hang – and then promptly wishing I could spit said bourbon back into my glass
• Hopping into an elevator with a famous writer and being flattered when they greeted me by name only to realize I was wearing a name tag
• The eight gallons of chai tea I consumed. Seriously.
• Coming out of my shell mid-week and shocking people – namely my new mentor – when I went from sweet to snark.
• Meeting several people – Omar, Erin, Marjetta, and more – who I know I will be hanging with at the residency in Tuscany next year. We are going to rock our workshops/cooking classes!

Thanks for playing along through this series! I hope you all learned something from the tips.

And without further ado the grand prize winners are….

Kate Hart wins a query critique from my agent, Laura Bradford

Laura McMeeking wins a 10-page critique from my mentor and writer, Eleanor Morse

Winners, email me at corrine at gmail dot com to claim your prizes.

Thank you again to Laura Bradford and Eleanor Morse for donating their time to my contest!

*On a side note, I should have mentioned that I used Random.org to pick the winners each day, plus the GP winners. I’m really glad to say that no person won twice – quite randomly since every comment counted – and no, I did not intentionally make Kate a winner because she’s my friend. She simply entered every day with stubborn persistence and snarky comments until she won as Lucky #34. I have the Random screenshot to prove it if you like. Congrats to all the winners!

Full Winner’s List:

Day 1: Kaitlin Ward (iTunes Gift Card)
Day 2: Brent Watson (Barnes & Noble Card)
Day 3: Elizabeth Briggs (Amazon Gift Card)
Day 4: Cambria Dillon (iTunes Gift Card)
Day 5: Rachele Alpine (Barnes & Noble Card)
Day 6: Karla Calalang (Amazon Gift Card)
Day 7: Sarah Enni (iTunes Gift Card)
Day 8: Susan Quinn (Barnes & Noble Card)
Day 9: Abby Stevens (Amazon Gift Card)
Day 10: Angie Spartz (iTunes Gift Card)

Grand Prize 1: Kate Hart (Query Crit)
Grand Prize 2: Laura McMeeking (10-Page Crit)

MFA Crash Course: Days 9 and 10

You will notice that there are no tips posted here for Days 9 and 10. The last two days of my residency were a whirlwind of farewell meals, readings, and homework. But no lectures. Spalding posts audio versions of all the lectures on Blackboard, so we have the chance to hear those lectures we missed out on. I planned to include notes from those, but they are yet to be posted.

In lieu of more tips, these last two days of class are kind of like a teacher’s in-service day. You get prizes without actually having to learn anything. All you have to do is:

1. Follow my blog.

2. Post a comment by midnight tonight PST. If there’s something I didn’t discuss, or a question you have about MFA programs, let me know.

3. Win a $10 Amazon card or a $10 Barnes & Noble card. I’ll be giving away one of each so there will be two winners.

4. You will also be entered to win a query crit from agent Laura Bradford or a ten-page crit from author Eleanor Morse.

It’s that easy! I will announce the winners of the crits on my blog tomorrow. Good luck!

MFA Crash Course: Day Eight

***If you are following me AND leave a comment in this thread by 5 PM PST Tuesday, 6/8, you will be entered to win a $10 Barnes & Noble gift card. Plus you will receive one entry each toward the query crit by my agent Laura Bradford and the ten-page crit by writer Eleanor Morse. Full details here.

Workshop: Met with the four writers in my workshop, led by Julie Brickman. We did an in-class writing assignment to play with alternate POVs. Here’s my experiment with second person, and an answer to a challenge a friend made one night while drinking bourbon at the Seelbach Hotel – to try my hand at creative non-fiction.

You thought she was a hypocrite when she wouldn’t let you cut your hair. It fell past your waist in tangles and sometimes you dreamed it braided itself into a brown rope that strangled you. It seemed to get in your way, wrapping around your arm, your throat, your shoulders like creeping vines, and you hated it. Worse, your mother had a pixie haircut and had for as long as you could remember. Her ridiculous insistence that a seventeen-year-old girl should have long hair made you feel invisible. Your wants, your wishes, your womanhood hidden.

So one day you convince your aunt to trim an inch or two off. You look at yourself and see a hint of something you could be. It – the cutting – becomes addictive. You sneak around for the first time in your life, and the song of the scissors hisses through you. Until she confronts you, screaming, “You think I don’t know you’ve been cutting your hair?” And you think the hours of screaming don’t fit the crime – your first rebellion, but then she tells you, “Go ahead and chop it all off. I don’t give a shit,” and you forget the niggling doubt.

Should I? and Would I dare? whisper in your ear. You walk into the bathroom and know you will dare. Scissors in hand, you pull a hank of hair over your breast and snip… Whole inches fall and you are Samson-reversed made stronger with each cut. She finds you like that – scissors cutting away. Your eyes meet in the bathroom mirror. Pause, pause, pause. Without a word, she leaves the room , and you finish up before admiring your new do.

It’s not until weeks later you realize that you cut away some part of her love. You learn how jealous she was of your easy relationship with the aunt who made the first snip, but it’s too late by then.  She shows less interest in your life, and you no longer have a place to hide.

Lunch with Friends

Graduate Student Readings: Three of the graduating students read from their thesis work. Very inspiring.

Lecture: Online Marketing for Writers
Lori A. May, Lecturer
Lori A. May is a writer and Editor-in-Chief of Poets Quarterly and she shared her tips on social media for writers. I’m not going to share everything Lori said since she partly makes a living by sharing this info. Instead I will link you to her site. J   http://loriamay.com/

• Social media is about marketing your writing, networking, and “literary citizenship” (cheering on the arts).
• If you begin your social media strategy after your book is out, it’s too late. It takes time to build up a following, especially as a debut author. Start now even if you don’t have a book out.
• Your web, email, and blog are your online business card/portfolio. Be professional. Also use your name and get your URL set up with your name. This says “I am a writer and I take this very seriously.”
• Blogs should be professional while sharing your personality.
• When deciding which social media sites you want to use, try observing them first to watch the activity. Don’t try to do everything. Decide which ones work for you and put your focus there.
• Reciprocate support of other writers, and be a valued literary citizen.

Lecture: What Makes a Story Matter?
Eleanor Morse, Lecturer
Eleanor Morse discussed what takes a story from entertainment to a work that matters on a deeper level.

• Five elements of stories that “feel significant” include: the creation of something new; they connect us with a humanity beyond the self; they contain honest, intense emotion; there is movement; and the description of the finite introduces us to something immense.
• How should the writer approach a work like this? With a) curiosity and willingness to face the unknown; b) a vulnerability and honest emotional involvement, and c) absence of self-consciousness.
• Loved this quote! “Writing is not looking over itself to see how beautiful it is.”  (Not sure who said this.)

Cross-Genre Assignment  Follow Up: Performances of Elevator Plays
We gathered in groups to perform the elevator plays we’d written, cast and practiced. If something can be excruciating and funny at the same time, this was it.

Dinner with Friend: followed by Homework and More Homework, plus enlightening conversation with same friend

MFA Crash Course: Day Seven

***If you are following me AND leave a comment in this thread by 5 PM PST Thursday, 6/3, you will be entered to win a $10 iTunes gift card. Plus you will receive one entry each toward the query crit by my agent Laura Bradford and the ten-page crit by writer Eleanor Morse. Full details here.

Workshop: Met with the four writers in my workshop, led by Julie Brickman. We studied various forms of first person POV. On Wednesday, we also studied ways to use second person and alternate POVs.

• Second person POV is generally used to show a voice that is alienated from itself. A good example is Jay McInerney’s Bright Lights, Big City where the protagonist is devolving into a drug additiction.
• A POV that uses “we” can be used to demonstrate a collective voice. In the short story example we read called “We,” the collective was a group of women newly married who lose their identities while caring for young children.
• Both of these POVs would be hard to sustain in a longer work, which is why Jay McInerney’s novel is one of the few examples out there.
• POV you choose for your work should reflect your character. How close can you get to them? How together are they?

Student Readings: 3^rd and 4^th semester students read from their works or act out their plays. It’s a good opportunity to practice reading your work in front of a crowd.

Lunch with Friends: I had lunch with new friends. I swear hanging with these people is like sitting down with people you’ve known your entire life.

Plenary Craft Follow Up: Follow up to “Le Mot Juste” Lecture from Day Two
Sena Jeter Naslund, Lecturer
We each had to turn in examples of literature where we thought the authors had managed to surprise and delight the reader with unexpected language. She called students to the stage to read their examples and discuss them briefly.

Lecture: Early Loves, Lasting Influences: D.H. Lawrence’s “Women in Love” and Virginia Woolf’s “To the Lighthouse”
Robin Lippincott, Lecturer
Robin Lippincott was inspired early on by these two works. The thinking involved in these two novels helped him to develop his own work.

• Lawrence often used landscape as a metaphor the emotion in his work. He had a willingness to “convey the changing, quixotic nature of relationships.” His writing taught Robin to “be true to myself and trust my vision.”
• Woolf said “I write not to a plot but a rhythm.”  I love this quote!
• Woolf applied form to her novel, To the Lighthouse, imagining it in an “H” shape with the beginning and end of the novel covering hours and the center compacting a decade into a very short space.
• This lecture reminded me that studying poetry and the rules of formal poetry in particular can help a writer to understand rhythm and structure.

Cross-genre Assignment – Elevator Play Follow-up Practice: We were assigned to teams of six people and each person had to write a 60-90 second play that could be performed in an elevator. At this meeting, we cast the roles and practiced each other’s plays. As an introvert, I was mortified. As a writer, it was AWESOME to see my words acted out and see the reaction from others.

Celebration of Recently Published Books: One playwright performed a piece he was commissioned to write to help his city fall back in love with their local NFL team. Hilarious!

• Eric Schmiedl (playwriting), Browns Rules

• Marcia Dalton (Fleur-de-Lis Press author), The Ice Margin

• Kira Obolensky (playwriting), Raskol

• Louella Bryant (fiction), Full Bloom

Buffet Dinner at Brown Hotel: Two words for you, my friends – CASH BAR. After dinner, a new friend and I hung out discussing how the opinions of friends and family – real or imagined – can have an impact on our work. I love getting into these deep conversations with writers.

In-class Workshop Assignment: We were asked to try out a POV we had discussed. I chose multiple first person, but didn’t get very far – I tend to be a slow writer, especially when writing in class. Here’s what I wrote on the spot. You’ll notice I never got to the second person’s POV. Oops.

In a town engorged with concrete and oily exhaust, Delilah’s Café smelled of pancakes, sticky maple syrup, and home. I watched the woman herself skate through the place, twirling to avoid six-year-old Luke Murray, dipping under Dolores’ tray of plates held aloft by one meaty arm, and lunging forward to save a glass in danger of Frank’s clumsy elbow. From 6AM to 3PM, Delilah moved to some internal tune, gliding about her second home with grace my mother would have envied. In my six months of spectating from my booth seat, I’d only witnessed a single skip in her rhythm…a tiny blip that caused her wide, open smile to curtsy on one side. Her eyes had not widened in surprise when I confessed who I was. She had paused at the counter, a wet rag clinched in her hand that she’d been using to scrub the counter. Nothing more. No clue to how she felt about seeing me, the daughter she’d given up eighteen years ago. I would have thought she felt nothing if not for that dip in her smile.

*These tips are all my own paraphrases. This blog series is not sponsored by Spalding or its faculty