Loading ...
I Like The Made Up Stuff Best
As I may have mentioned in a previous blog, I was encouraged to teach a writing class at a local community college last spring. I crafted a six-week continuing education course on the basics of fiction writing (ideas, plot, characters, setting, etc.) and it took off. The first session I taught met its student cap, and the second session was within two students of doing the same.
Yay me!
Since the college liked what they saw, they encouraged me to offer an additional class—this one designed to explore various aspects of the creative writing process. And I, being the trained monkey that I am, did just that…
Last Wednesday was the kick-off for my new class and it went really well. We focused on feature articles and the importance of finding just the right lead (not much different than a novel or short story). I was in my element thanks to my days as a working journalist and it showed. Seriously, you can stick me in front of a random subject and time me with a stopwatch. In less than five minutes I can nose out a feature article. And inside seven, I can tell you exactly what my lead will be.
It’s a sickness, really.
Tomorrow night, however, will be a different story as we take a look at something I’ve never tried to write…
Memoirs.
I’d insert a groan here but that would imply boredom. So I’ll stick with something a bit more accurate…
Why the pathetic face, you ask?
Well, I’ve been dabbling with various genres of fiction for more years than I can remember. And I’ve got the journalism thing down pretty well. But writing about myself?!?!?
Uhhhh, I think I’ll pass.
You see, just as fiction is an escape for readers, it’s also an escape for writers. At least this one anyway.
For me, crafting a story is about putting the pieces of a puzzle together—a puzzle where I happily grab for each new piece in an attempt to complete the picture I’ve carried in my head for several weeks or months.
The puzzle that is me, though, isn’t quite so fun. I may know who I am on most levels but I’m still actively assembling all the pieces that make up the whole picture. Some of the pieces are easy to place and manage to elicit a smile or a laugh. But some pieces can be almost painful to set down because they elicit something very different than a smile. One might bring fear, another pain. One might bring uncertainty, another tears.
In fiction, you can always line through a portion of your outline or kill off a character if you find yourself in uncomfortable territory.
In real life there’s no white-out or erasing. And while it can be mighty tempting to toss some of those rougher puzzle pieces back into the box, the picture that is me isn’t me without all the pieces. The good. The bad. And the ugly.
One day, maybe, I’ll work some of those pieces into something I write and maybe it will end up being therapeutic. But for now, fiction is the puzzle I find less daunting. Which is why I’ll leave the actual memoir writing to my students tomorrow night as I stand nearby, ready to offer a slew of researched tips or to read excerpts from published works as necessary. 
Really. It’s either that or drag out the story of the evil poodle who snatched my lunch sack from my tiny hand—making off with my coveted meatloaf sandwich as I waited for the school bus one cold, snowy morning…
So how about you? Ever try to write about something you’ve experienced—good, bad, or ugly? Have you shown it to anyone?
And if you haven’t done either, tell us your own “evil poodle” memory. Surely everyone has one of those, right?
Hugs,
~Laura
Happy Halloween!
I adore Halloween. Love getting to dress up in costumes. And people give you candy! What’s not to like? Although if I’m honest, which I am, I must admit that I’d far prefer salty treats to sweet ones. But a girl can’t have everything.
This year, I’m off with friends to see the Chicago Symphony, who’ve got an excellent program planned: they’re playing the soundtrack to the 1935 film BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN followed by a screening of YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN. Haven’t decided yet what to wear, but I’m thinking that as I’ve just got word that my editor has accepted the revisions I did for my next book, TEARS OF PEARL, which is set in Constantinople, it would only be fitting to dress as one of the sultan’s concubines. Could be fun–and I even brought back from my trip to Istanbul a hat (with veils) that would complete the ensemble. Now if I can just figure out the rest of the outfit. Because this is one occasion on which the trusty jeans just aren’t going to cut it.
How about you?
1. Are you dressing up, and if so, what will you wear?
2. What’s your favorite Halloween candy?
3. Do you think there’s an age beyond which trick-or-treating is inappropriate?
Bonus points to the first man smart enough to go for a Roman general costume. Photographic proof will, of course, be required.
xo
Tasha
P.S. Be sure to vote on Tuesday!!!!!
In Lieu Of…
It’s my birthday this week, and, while I am still this side of one of those big number years, I am - let’s be honest - getting up there. But only to the point that “my special day” feels a lot like any other day and all I really want as gifts are a nice meal I didn’t have to cook and maybe some new socks and some good tea.
Really, that’s what I told my kids - nice socks and a really good loose-leaf decaf.
But it’s got me thinking - you know how you always see death announcements (if you’re morbid like me and like to read them) and they say, “In lieu of flowers…” I started thinking about what I’d like in lieu of presents. (And yes, it has occurred to me that it is a mite sad that my impending birthday would bring me to making analogies to funerals).
So, in lieu of flowers, I would like:
a few more beautiful autumn days, with crisp blue skies, low, fat clouds, and burning leaves before the gray skies clamp down on me.
a day without rudeness - when I drive, shop, or anything else.
and (knowing the GG rule about no politics) just a simple wish that, whatever the outcome, whoever has the right to vote will get to vote and will find a way to get out there and do it, AND that the vote will be fairly conducted and tallied.
There. Simple, eh? What would your in lieu of presents be for your next birthday? Anything you’d like to give to someone else in lieu of presents?
Here a Poll, There a Poll, Everywhere a Poll
I’m tired of the words “margin of error.”
I’m tired of the endless loop of campaign speech highlights; tired of reporters speaking in front of empty, litter-strewn auditoriums or trying to shout over upbeat, blaring music; I’m tired of the commercials, the experts, the analysis.
In short, I’m ready for the election to be over.
Don’t worry. I’m not about to go on a political rant here—Lord, knows there’s enough of that already.
We Good Girls have vowed to renounce all things political on the blog. That’s right, the Good Girls blog is your place for no political news all the time!
But since it is election season and all, I would like to conduct a poll of my own. I know it will be entirely unscientific, but I’m curious about your thoughts on blogs. If you don’t want to participate—that’s fine. Feel free to give this post the metaphorical hang-up that you would give a noisy pollster who interrupts your dinner.
If, however, you’re willing to play along, I’d like to know:
How many blogs do you read regularly?
What types of blogs do you read? Mystery-related or something else?
How often do you read blogs—daily, weekly, or once a month or less?
Are you reading blogs more often or less often than you did a year ago?
Do you post or do you lurk? (Kind of an odd question, I know. If you usually lurk, I’m sure you’re not answering the questions, but come on…don’t be shy. We’d love to hear from you.)
That’s all for this Wednesday. And just think…by next Wednesday it will all be over!
The Deadline Five?
On Friday, Tasha asked GG blog readers to recall the last time they stayed up all night. And while my last sleepless night was less than six months ago (for work purposes), it got me thinking…
About a time when pulling an all-nighter was a common occurrence.
You remember those, don’t you? The all-night cram fests before the mother of all tests in your philosophy, sociology or whatever-ology class?
Uh huh. Those.
Twenty years later, I can’t recall anything that was on the tests, yet I remember—quite clearly—what got me through the night…
Pizza and No Doze. Lots and lots of pizza and No Doze.
Today, my version of an “all-nighter” comes in the form of weeks and weeks of writing as a deadline looms. Sometimes I write late into the night. Sometimes I simply park my backside in a chair and don’t move for eight to ten hours until I’ve hit my goal for the day or made up for the goal I failed to meet the day before.
Either way, the pressure is still there.
Only now, instead of pizza and No Doze getting me through the night, it’s Milk Duds, candy corn, and the promise of a paycheck that guide me toward my deadline.
Lots and lots of Milk Duds and candy corn.
But it works.
And if something works, why mess with it? Unless, of course, you factor in the few added pounds that come with this method of meeting a deadline (think “freshmen five”).
Gulp.
That’s right. Take it from me—a couple of bags of candy corn each week for a month made quite the appearance on the scale in my neurologist’s office. And while my mouth was gaping in astonishment, my nurse was grinning like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary (she takes perverse pleasure in seeing my weight increase). 
But that’s okay. Because once the deadline has been met, the candy corn is put away and I make a conscious effort to avoid junk fo—
Don’t think I can’t hear that snickering, people!
Seriously. I try to be good. Truly.
And then the editorial notes come in. All quite minor (TG)…yet something that comes with another deadline…
Which means the candy corn comes back out (the Milk Duds never left 
).
Sigh.
It’s a conspiracy, I tell you. A c-o-n-s-p-i-r-a-c-y.
So come on, ’fess up… What got you through cram fest in school? And what gets you through a deadline/project now?
Hugs,
~Laura
Ammie Come Home
In honor of Halloween I thought I would share a recommendation for one of my all time favorite ghost stories, Ammie Come Home by Elizabeth Peters. I first read this novel in Junior High. I promptly read it to my younger sisters (who loved it as much as I did, getting teary-eyed with delicious little chills of terror at the spookiest parts). Actually, it wasn’t until I was reading the thing outloud that I finally realized I’d got the title wrong: until then I was still calling it AMY Come Home. That’s how fast I read it the first time through.
It begins as a lark — a harmless diversion initiated by Washington, D.C., hostess Ruth Bennett as a means of entertaining her visiting niece, Sara. But the séance conducted in Ruth’s elegant Georgetown home calls something back; something unwelcome … and palpably evil. Suddenly Sara is speaking in a voice not her own, transformed into a miserable, whimpering creature so unlike her normal, sensible self. No tricks or talismans will dispel the malevolence that now plagues the inhabitants of this haunted place — until a dark history of treachery, lust, and violence is exposed. But the cost might well be the sanity and the lives of the living.
My favorite ghost stories combine romance and mystery with the supernatural, and Ammie Comes Home does all that. Plus Michaels puts in just enough laughs. It’s pretty much there on my top 100 books of all times (because, seriously, what book lover has a list of TOP TEN BOOKS?! What kind of book lover is that?)
Any Halloween recs of your own? Oh, and what costume are you wearing this year?
Questions, questions, questions….
I’m sitting here cozy, loving a rainy autumn night, having just finished a spectacular read, starting to let the seeds of a new book form in my head. Don’t have much yet. Just the setting (in broad terms). And one line that I want Colin to say to Emily (which undoubtedly won’t end up in the novel). I find that when I’m in these early stages, when I don’t even have enough to begin research, I’m mainly letting my subconscious percolate–if I think too hard, the ideas slip out of my grasp. Which means I’m in dire need of distraction. So tell me:
1. If you’re a writer, what’s the hardest part of writing a book? If you’re a reader, what’s the best part to read?
2. What’s the most exotic place you’ve ever visited?
3. What’s the most luxurious purchase you’ve ever made?
4. When’s the last time you stayed up all night?
5. What song can you not stop listening to?
Have a great weekend!
xo
Tasha
P.S. A very happy birthday to Christina Chen yesterday and Laura Caldwell today!!!!!!
Writer In Training
I’m in training today for my other job. Not fun on a blog day. But it got me thinking. What kind of training did I/do I have to do for this - my real, my fave, my-someday-again-please-God-only job?
I’ll leave you all with a few “training tips.”
First, read this gal - early and often. You won’t regret it. She is the font of all crime knowledge, a fine writer, an incisive critic, a fab editor (take it from one who knows - she was editor for ShotsUK at the time), and a great tour guide for getting through the streets of Manhattan. She is Sarah Weinman and she is God-dess.
Of this page, I have read more than half. Since I am only “partly-kinda-sorta published,” you may not want to read any I would recommend. But seriously, Stephen King’s On Writing is a great inspiration, Patricia Highsmith’s is in the same vein, Noah Lukeman’s tells you why an agent might toss your ms out early in the reading, Donald Maass lets you in on what to do with it so he too might not do the same. This guide to editing prevented much hair-tearing. And this finally explained to me the how-to for suspense versus the how-to for mystery. This Eudora Welty was my first - given me for my birthday by my late father when I was just a wee gal.
There’s the DorothyL listserv, Murder Must Advertise, and the listservs and meetings of MWA, Sisters in Crime, and SCWBI (for those of you who hope to fill the minds of the young and suggestive).
Did I mention this list of everything on Cluelass? Devour it. Digest it. Then, hopefully spit it out in the form of a sparkly, fresh and witty piece of prose. Bon chance!
The Last Computer Died at Noon
We are a laptop family. I can’t imagine going back to our old desktop. I like the portability of the laptop and I’m so used to typing on the laptop keyboard that full-size keyboards throw me out of my normal typing rhythm. We have two laptops—his and hers because we were both using them for work and fighting over the remote is enough stress for any marriage.
Anyway, we’ve had them both forever. Well, I’ve had mine about four years, which is positively ancient in computer years.
Don’t you think we should have an equation for technology items similar to the equation for dog years? You know, one dog year equals seven human years. One technology year equals how many human years? I’m thinking, at least ten.
When I consider it that way, it’s no surprise that it began having problems. First it was the battery, then the power cord. Next up was the big one, the motherboard. No problem, I thought. I’ll send it off, have it repaired, and it’ll be back in ten (or less) business days. However, I had to pick myself up off the floor when I learned the price of the repair. I could practically buy a new laptop for what it was going to cost.
So that’s what I did, but not without extreme anguish and remorse. See, I’m one of those people who get attached to their techie things and don’t want to upgrade. There’s probably a special Luddite category for me, but since my laptop seemed to only operate when the moon was full, I decided I had to upgrade.
My new laptop arrived and I spent several hours loading software, one of the main reasons I didn’t want to switch to a new computer. However, the worst is over and I can get my mail, print, and even look at my photos. The file swaps are almost complete and soon I’m sure I’ll be just as fond of this laptop.
Since I do get so attached to my laptops, I think this one needs a name. I haven’t found just the right one, yet, so feel free to post suggestions.
Strange thing though—as soon as the new one arrived, the old laptop began functioning perfectly.
Well, as long as you didn’t bump the power cord.
Or open or close it.
It’s been demoted to the kid computer and they can use it for Internet research and games. As long as they DON’T MOVE THE POWER CORD!
So, how about you? Are you an early embracer? Do you jump on new technology with delight?
Or, do you cling to what your “classic” technology? What’s the oldest piece of technology you still use?
Drivel
Hey, GG blog readers. I’m experiencing a rare flare-up of the ms and it’s got me feeling kinda blehhhh. So, in the interest of keeping all whining to a minimum, I figured I’d cheat on blog duty this week and just give a few mindless bullet points.
*“There’s never enough hours in the day.” I remember hearing that expression when I was a kid—mostly from the grown-ups in my life—and discounting it as adult gibberish. Boy was I dumb. While I manage to stay up on things, I never feel as if there’s time to get ahead. Just about the time I get my freelance assignments, teaching stuff, kids’ activities, and other assorted must-dos knocked out for the week, it’s time to do it all over again. And I find myself standing there, looking around, wondering where the heck my writing time went…
*Took myself to see “Nights in Rodanthe” Friday afternoon. I settled into my seat with a box of Milk Duds and no expectations/preconceived notions at all (other than I like Richard Gere and Diane Lane).
The movie itself was okay, nothing extraordinary. Until about fifteen minutes before the end…
Diane Lane’s character suffers a loss that devastates her into a deep depression. In several shots you see her in different places (her room, her kitchen, her porch, etc) yet she’s mentally unreachable. That, in and of itself, wasn’t the part that got to me. It was the way her daughter stayed by her side through the whole thing. Not talking, not cajoling, not questioning. Just simply being there. I tried valiantly not to cry—stared up at the ceiling in my trademark way of trying to ward off tears. But eventually I couldn’t hold it in any longer and I literally wept. One of the three other people in the theater stopped and gave me a hug when it was over. Pathetic, huh?
*Spent the weekend in Chicago. The weather was great. The people wonderful. Had difficulty navigating a few minor curbs with my left foot but this too shall pass… In the meantime, I’m already looking forward to another weekend jaunt to this beautiful city in the very near future. I. Love. Chicago.
*With my latest mystery manuscript behind me (at least for the moment as I await editorial feedback), I’m finally getting to work on a new project. I figure I’ll give another romance a whirl and see if I can hit pay dirt once again. And as agonizing as it was to write my first-ever sex scene…apparently I did it well as it received special mention when it was bought! 
*I’m looking for a female character’s name that has a shortened version. One that’s different enough from the formal version as to warrant initial confusion. Like Katherine/Kat. Any thoughts?
*My 13 year old took a big step in growing up this past weekend. She opted to take part in a youth retreat through her school despite the fact that none of her friends were going. That took guts and I’m really proud of her.
*A rally for a presidential nominee is a big deal. McCain was in my neighborhood yesterday morning. I’d have been more excited if I wasn’t one of the people who’d suffer greatly under his healthcare proposals (specifically no coverage for pre-existing). But I am, so I wasn’t.
*Getting in/out of your home when secret service is swarming like fireflies can be a real pain in the butt-oosky. I think even the scarecrow people on my front porch were checked as a potential security breach. Ay yi yi.
That’s it. I’ll come up with something better next week or else I’ll find a guest blogger.
Hugs,
~Laura