Turning Things On Their Ears

I think one of my favorite things about reading and writing is the turn of a phrase. When we think of turning something on it's ear, we know what that means even if the item being turned doesn't actually have an ear.  But these kinds of images add richness to our language.

Years ago I began a writing a book.  I liked the opening, but when a friend read it she pointed out my trite phrases such as "sizzling bacon."  At the time I thought, "How else can you describe the sound of bacon cooking?"  Anything else, in my mind, sounded second rate.  Thankfully I've learned a little since then.

I enjoy the actual writing of stories, but it is a fun challenge to stop for a moment to consider one sentence, one action even and how it can be described in an unusual way.  For instance, we may think of autumn leaves falling gently down or we could say they waltz with the wind, being safely deposited on a soft seat of grass when the music stops.  Or we could describe that leaf as an animal of some kind, such as: the leaf, crouched like a waiting tiger, watches for the perfect moment to leap from its perch to the waiting grass prey below.  Or what if the leaf falls during a rainstorm?  Then it could become a soldier being pelted with rainy shrapnel, finally dying, face down in the mud.

The possibilities are endless, and so much fun to think of.  If you have a favorite leaf metaphor or image, please share.

A Scene Outside Your Window

If you're old enough to remember M*A*S*H, you might recall the episode where Radar decides to become a writer.  Wanting to improve his writing he signs up for a correspondence course.  The first assignment is to describe a scene outside his window.

I've thought about that.  Easily you could have five people describe the same scene and have five very different passages.  So, is there a "best" way to go about a descriptive passage?

When I had a short stint as a homeschooler, I remember some of the writing assignments from our chosen curriculum.  The directions indicated that you should describe a scene from right to left or left to right, or otherwise in a logical manner.  This type of assignment always made me uncomfortable.  Shouldn't a description be more free-flowing than that?

I think the balance should be somewhere in the middle.  I know when I read a description of an item or scene in a book it frustrates me when I can't create a picture in my head from what is written.  I also believe a technical description would be boring.  Take the following examples.

If I wanted to "define" the scene outside my window it might appear like this: Out of my four-foot-square window, a portion of my side yard is visible.  On the left is a row of bushes, still devoid of leaves.  Six feet to the right of this, along the far edge is a large oak tree.  It's trunk is gnarled and branches don't begin until twenty feet up.  Beside this is a pine tree ... (you get the idea).

If I try to find the middle ground, allowing you to create a picture in your mind, and giving you the impression that you actually cared enough to want to build that picture, if might be like this:  The morning sun paints the scene outside my window before leaking inside to warm my toes.  I can tell it's late morning since the early birds have already abandoned the bushes along the yard edge.  I scan towards the middle of my yard to the stately oak tree, reaching it's aging branches to the heavens.  Occasionally squirrels twists 'round it's gnarly trunk, but the limbs of the nearby pine tree periodically block my view of their upward progress, allowing them to play an unintentional game of hide-and-seek.  etc.

I imagine if you took a "crack" at the scene outside my window, your words would vary greatly from mine.  And that's okay, because it's what allows me to be a writer in the first place.  If we all wrote the same way, there wouldn't be over a quarter of a million books printed each year in the US alone.  Hopefully, this year, one of them will be mine.

It's a Conspiracy

Has a good book ever kept you up at night?  I've spent many a night reading "just one more chapter."  But there are also those books that keep you awake thinking about them.  Whether it be a scary passage or a thought provoking one, you might lay in bed not able to put your brain to rest.  

In that last few days, I've had to face the fact that I will not get a good night's rest until I've finished writing my book.  I go to bed, but then I lay there for an hour or so writing conversations in my head or planning twists, turns and revelations.  I have a pad of paper on my nightstand where I jot down ideas as they come.  But, lately I haven't used it, because the thoughts are just too long.  I am going with the hope that I will remember enough in the morning.

So, given the above trend, a few nights I have just decided to give into the urge and stay up late writing.  The house is quiet and I am alone, undisturbed.  It's a great time to write.

But either way this book is keeping me up nights.  My own book seems to have conspired against me - haunting me until it is finished, disturbing my sleep and taking over my life.  And it's not even a horror story!

We are stubborn creatures . . .

Thursday it was 80 degrees where I live.  In the morning, before school, my six-year-old and I went through his shorts from last year, looking for a pair that fit.  He wore those shorts with great joy and gusto throughout the day.  It was a beautiful day.  It was also fleeting.

Saturday morning I was doing some writing, seated near a window.  When I thought I heard rain I opened the curtains to be greeted by SNOW!  It snowed steadily for ten minutes or so.  I know this happens in Spring, but still, it felt like a low blow.

However, a short time later, I found myself on my way to Home Depot.  I was looking for a few gardening tools.  It seemed strange given the snow, but I knew the weather would change and I wanted to be ready when it did.

You would think that the snow would be a deterrent to most, but not so.  When I arrived at Home Depot I was greeted by a full parking lot.  Apparently we are stubborn creatures.  Snow will not stop us from making plans and working towards fulfilling those plans.

I think when we read novels we take the same approach.  As long as we have hope that a novel will    fulfill some kind of expectation, be that tying up lose ends or ending on a positive note, we are willing to slog through the times when a character disappoints us or deals with struggles.

And once we learn that we can trust an author, just as we have learned to trust the spring, we will give him or her a little more leeway.  I hope, in the future, that I can earn that trust.

Writer's Block - of sorts

We've all heard of writer's block - staring at a blank page, wondering what to put on it.  I'm dealing with a somewhat reverse writer's block.  My book is going so well that I have a hard time putting it down.  I got ready for bed last night, and instead of actually going to bed spent another hour writing.

Right now, I'm anxious to get going on my book again.  So, I sit staring at a blank blog.  What to blog about?  I don't know, because all I can think about is my book!  So, sorry, but this is it for my blog today.  (I'll make it up to you in my book.)

A Life of Its Own

It seems that I have just given birth to my first novel.  If you have followed me for a while, you will recall that I finished writing my first book late last year.  That was a loose memoir.  Since then I have turned my attention to fiction.  And it has been an enjoyable journey.

But in the last couple of weeks, my first novel actually came to life.  I've been writing on it a lot longer than that, but it just took off and has gained a life of its own.  I eat, drink and sleep the characters and their interactions.  I lay down at night and can't sleep because the thoughts and ideas won't stop.  I have paper and pencil on my night stand for my hastily scrawled notes of who needs to say what to whom, and why.

It is a living, breathing thing, larger than myself.  There is no way to stop it now.  It's like Godzilla in New York, only I don't think I could kill it if I tried.  But that's the beauty of it - I don't want to kill it.  I love it.  I'm excited by it.  It's not work anymore.  I'm not having to expend effort to figure out where I need to take the plot or how to introduce a clue.  Instead things are just popping into my head - constantly!  Is this what it feels like to be an author?  I sure hope so, otherwise "the voices" in my head might be hard to explain.

Tilting At Windmills

I seem to be tilting at windmills lately.  I have taken on as my special cause my TV and internet service provider.  I seem to be making a call in their direction every month as I take exception to their billing practices.  No, I haven't switched, because yes, they do fix the problem and then compensate me for my trouble.  So, if you don't figure in the cost of my time, I'm still coming out ahead.  And the actual TV and internet service are what we want.

But isn't it great that I can tell you I am tilting at windmills and you know what I'm talking about.  You can thank a writer for that.  This phrase comes from Cervantes in his classic Don Quixote.  I have a soft spot for this story, having performed in the musical version, Man of La Mancha, in my youth.  And somehow I have a soft spot for Don Quixote, trying so hard to do what he thought valiant even though in reality it was something else.

What power good writers have.  I would like to have that kind of impact upon a reader, even if new idioms aren't created because of my written word.  But alas, that's such stuff as dreams are made on. (With a thankful nod to Shakespeare.)

Curious Beings

We are, by nature, curious beings.  Take for example Wednesday evening.  The day was full of thunder and lightning storms, some of the thunder shaking the house.  Shortly after one large clap two police cars with lights flashing and sirens screaming raced past our house.

I need to pause here and tell you about our neighborhood.  We live in an area of homes built about fifty years ago.  Some of these homes house the original owners, while others are home to young families.  Our home is situated on a corner of two roads which access most of the neighborhood.  So, it's not unusual to see an ambulance rush past.  (We wonder if the frequency is due to the elderly residents in the area.)

But Wednesday evening was different.  These police cars were serious about where they were going - no pausing in the intersection, and they were booking!  A few seconds later a third police car rushed past, and then a fourth, fifth and sixth, in quick succession!  A minute or two later an ambulance passed.

Now, aren't you already wondering what happened?  So were we.  We reasoned out that it was not a fire, like might have been caused by the lightning in the area, because we didn't see any fire engines.  Although later we thought about the location of the fire stations and realized they would have traveled to where we saw the police cars disappear by a different route.

So, what could it be?  We thought about different options.  The ambulance didn't indicate a traffic stop or drug bust.  As I described, we are by two access roads, but they are not main roads, so it appeared to be something within the residential areas of town, but a typical 911 call - say for a heart attack wouldn't have warranted six police cars.  A car accident didn't seem likely, again, within a residential area with low speeds and those SIX police cars.

I tutor an eighth-grader in math, and he showed up a few minutes after the excitement passed.  He had seen nothing on his way to our house, but he was just as curious as the rest of us about the goings on.

Is your curiosity peaked yet?  I would love to tell you what happened.  I was so curious that I searched the internet for the police blotter.  I read about some interesting things, but none of them occurred Wednesday evening.  I'd love to tell you what happened Wednesday, but I can't, because I don't know!

I suppose the reason we have books of fiction is that we are curious beings.  And I also suppose that most of them conclude, tying up loose ends along the way, because we don't like not knowing what's going's on!  (And if you have any ideas about what could have happened, please let me know!)

Opening Lines

I've been thinking lately about opening lines of novels.  It started with picking up A Tale of Two Cities, with the famous, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of time . . ."  (We usually quote that part, but the first sentence - being Dickens - goes on for the first paragraph.)  I believe a first sentence is every bit as important as a good plot.

The first line can intrigue you: "I never knew dying would feel this way" or "Jak couldn't remember for sure, but he didn't think potatoes tasted this way on earth, or for that matter they weren't pink either." or "If I could only quiet my breathing, maybe he wouldn't find me."  First lines can foretell endings: "Who knew that I, who hated children, would end up the loving mother of ten." or "A firing squad seems a fitting end, even if I don't want to die." or "I never would have known that an olive branch would mean so much."  (Okay so, that last one wasn't a story I made up.)

I realize that I'm going about picking books all wrong.  I read the jacket cover; I'm even intrigued by titles.  But I think I'm going to start opening to that first page and checking out the first line.  Did this author care enough to capture my interest in one sentence?  I hope in the future I'll be able to do that for you.

Are You Surprised?

My six-year-old has a favorite phrase of late: "Weren't you surprised?"  He may say, "Weren't you surprised that I practiced my piano so fast?" (two minutes to practice three songs - am I supposed to be proud of that?) or "Weren't you surprised I picked a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for my lunch?" (he only eats them three times a day!) or "Are you surprised that I'm wearing this shirt?"

As a parent, I can play along and be "surprised," but I'm guessing most people wouldn't actually be so.  I'm understanding that this is the key to fiction writing.  As readers, we want to be surprised, really surprised. Predictability is mundane and boring - why waste time reading something where you know exactly what will happen and when.  We may even be content to understand the end if how to get there is a mystery.  Some books will even start with the end and then the rest of the book is the flashback to lead to that end.  This can even heighten our enjoyment as we wonder how it is even possible to end there!

You may think I am talking only about mysteries or suspense novels, but I am not.  If you are reading a romance, do you wonder who the girl will end up with or how or why?  In historical fiction, how will real life events impact your fictional characters.  I just finished a novel with a minor character named Benedict.  I only know two Benedicts: Eggs Benedict and Benedict Arnold.  I kept wondering how this Benedict would betray the main character.  I was not let down in this, but I was surprised.

The current novel that I am working on prominently features apples.  On the surface that doesn't sound very exciting.  But will you be surprised by how they figure?  I hope so.  I do indeed hope so.

Some writing jobs are better than others

One thing I've noticed about being a writer is that, by in large, writers support each other.  It's really an amazing thing.  We are somewhat in competition with each other, but I think the view is that there is room for all of us.  I know I would be lost without my writer friends.

So, it is with sympathy that I view the technical writers that work for the IRS.  It all stems from one sentence I discovered in publication 525 about miscellaneous income.  Apparently there are lots of types of income that should be included on the "Other income" line on your 1040.  Publication 525 states, "Bribes. If you receive a bribe, include it in your income."

Really?  On the "Other income" line, it also states, "List type and amount."  So, all of you out there taking bribes, makes sure to list "bribe" and include the amount in your other income!

See why I feel sorry for those technical writers?  Can you imagine that conversation?  "You want me to include WHAT?  Are you serious?!"

I suppose there are times when it's nice to be an anonymous author.

This Morning

It's easy to write about things one is passionate about.  The emotions are strong and the source material can be endless.  I surprise myself at times when these passionate feelings surface.

I have five children, so it's no surprise that children and family are important to me.  But there are aspects of motherhood that I've become very laid back about.  By the time you get to the fifth, you're just not as uptight about little things.  So, when I feel stirrings of being overprotective, it catches me by surprise.  Thus it was this morning.

I walked my youngest to school today.  He is in first grade and very independent.  He wanted to walk because his older brother walks, and he wants to be just like him.   We arrived at the corner that is kitty-corner to the school.  I waited on that corner while the crossing guard helped him cross one street and then the other.  I watched as she placed her body in a position to shield him in the best way possible.  When he finished crossing one street and swiveled ninety degrees to cross the other, she moved her body so she could  see his every move, planting herself in the middle of the road in the place of greatest danger.

My son then walked up the sidewalk towards the drive through in front of the school.  At that point the teacher on duty moved into the middle of the driveway lanes to block traffic so my son could safely cross.

I was profoundly touched by these two women and their willingness to put themselves between danger and my son.  I get choked up at the thought.

All of this is even more poignant because this is the first day back from spring break.  It was a spring break extended by one day because of Sandy Hook Elementary.  That tragedy prompted our school district to reevaluate security.  After that was done, they needed a day to train and update teachers and staff about new security procedures.  The teachers and staff returned to school yesterday for that training and our children enjoyed one more day of vacation.

All of these people: teachers, staff, and crossing guards are willing to put their lives on the line for my son and others' sons and daughters.  That is heroic.  That's something I can write about.

It was just what I wanted ... or was it?

I recently finished reading a popular novel.  It was clever and gripping.  It was intriguing.  I quite enjoyed it.

Well, I mostly enjoyed it.  The main character ends up in several dangerous situations.  And every time she was able to escape unharmed I breathed a sigh of relief.  It was just what I wanted.  But when that happened for the fourth or fifth time I was actually surprised.  Was there no real danger after all?

Admittedly, I read books differently now that I am writing.  I'm constantly trying to learn how to make my craft better.  So I do question things a lot, breaking things apart from a writer's perspective, to understand how to construct them for myself.  It makes my reading experience very different, in some ways better, in some ways worse.

Understanding this, I reevaluated the lack of real danger in the book I read.  It didn't sit right for the danger to never be realized.  But there was conflict of a different nature.  I suppose the author wanted to focus on that.  Also, it is the nature of this book for the reader to imagine where the story goes over the next twenty years or so after the book ends.  If the outside danger had been real, the future would be left far too uncertain.  As it is, the reader can be quite assured of a positive future outcome.

I really do like happy endings.  Since I can make sense of the author's decisions, I imagine it should all be settled.  Why then do I wish she had put more pitfalls in?  Maybe it's the realist in me.  If my life can have troubles, and I overcome them, what shouldn't some fictional character have them as well?

To end my ramblings of the mind . . . I read to learn, and I think I am hesitant to have things fall apart for my characters, but I shouldn't feel that way.  Pitfalls will make them better characters, just as pitfalls make us better people.