What Do You Bring To The Page?



As a writer, I've wondered what do I offer my readers? Do I possess what it takes? What do I have to say that anybody wants to hear?

Lofty volumes of prose line many library shelves. Some deliver profound messages, soothing to the ears. Some hold you spellbound with intrigue or humor. And then some curl the hair on the neck as you quickly turn the page to discover the killer. Besides constantly polishing your knowledge of the writing craft and striving for the title of great storyteller, there's another element to this writing thing.

The author's ability to share knowledge, life experiences, and enlightenments within the context of a story. To make it matter.

What have you learned or experienced in your life that you bring to the page? Many of us bring our writing degrees, our teaching degrees, our years of contributions to magazines, lit mags, newspapers, and we bring awards. Oh, so many writing awards. And, that's wonderful. Commendable, in fact. But that's not what I'm talking about.

To quote Dorothy Allison (one of my favorites.) She made this profound statement at the Maui Writing Conference many years ago. " ... writers come to the page for many, many reasons. In fact many of us do come in the hope of justice! We do come in the hope of balance! We do come with an agenda of love! But I'm telling you now, lots of us start with a desire for genuine revenge."

Do you bring revenge to your written pages? Anger? Truth?

"Are you saying there has to be some deep, dark reason why we write? Can't I just write for fun?"

Of course you can, and many do. But once again, in my humble opinion, the writing that lasts for generations is written from the cobwebbed corners of a writer's mind. Those basements and attics where the writer fears to tread, but goes anyway.

"But," you say, "I write humor."

Ah, yes. Dissect that humor. Much of our humor also comes from pain. You know that old cliche spoken in the midst of anger and frustration ... "We're going to laugh about this later." Laughter through tears ... it's a powerful emotion. Take it to the page.

"Do you mean, then, write what you know?"

Not just what you know, but what you feel. What you've seen. What matters. The gut-wrenching moments in your life that cut deep into your heart. Write about that. Write about the scars. Who gave them to you, and how you healed, or how you still suffer from those scars. Give your character a piece of your life story that you want to share with the world. Dig out the best and worst of your memories, and include them in your stories. Write not just what you know, but what brought you out of a dark spot. What event turned you inside out, not just what made you uncomfortable. Write your passions, your desires, what moves you. Write that.

Those are the guts of a good story. Bring that to the page.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Simple Secret To Writing

I've been thinking the more writers read how-to books, web sites, and blogs on writing, the more confused they can become. The more it stifles their energy to sit down and write that next story.

Most writers don't fear the first draft. We know it's a draft. It's not for public consumption. But what happens between writing that first draft and finishing the book? Hoping to find a nugget of truth, we pour over blogs and web sites and books that tell us what we "need to know" about pacing, voice, character development, on and on ... until it stops us in our tracks.

Writers are artists. As a whole, the doubt and fear we battle is like walking into a swarm of hornets. We just know we're going to get bit.

What happens as a result of that fear? If you are a writer, you've felt it. You know what I'm talking about.

But here is something to consider. Even Donald Maass started somewhere. And I'll bet he'll tell you he's still learning.

You've already gathered enough knowledge to write. You know the middle of the story matters, to show and not tell, to kill your darlings and prologues and keep backstory to a minimum. So while you're in the process of creating, as you write your next story, don't read any more blogs, how-to books, or web sites that tell you how to write. STOP IT.

Stop second-guessing yourself. Just write the story. Let it pour out of your heart. Weep over the keyboard. Burn the midnight oil until you've finished the second, even the third draft. Put your soul into it. Then, my writer friend, you have something to work with. To revise. To hone. To make beautiful. Then you can submit for critique, or to a professional editor for revision. Then you can refresh yourself in a how-to book as you EDIT.

Remember, there are a ton of "experts". Intimidation is a monster. Even the most seasoned writer questions their own talent from time to time. The secret is ... get the story out of you first. Overcome the fear of writing by writing for yourself first. It's the simple truth.

Blessings to you and yours.

Constipated Storylines

Here it is, the middle of August. Already. Where did this month go? Couple of family birthdays, mine included. But the bigger news, I've been working on a book proposal for The Sanctum. A literary agent is interested in shopping the book to the Christian publishers. I have to give it that chance. God always opens doors for me; sometimes I miss it, but sometimes I manage to step through it, in spite of myself.

I'm still struggling with the first draft of the next novel, but (and it's a big but) when I decided to get quiet and quit fretting over it, that's when the characters began to talk again. It's taking a new turn, and frankly, I'm surprised at the direction. Moved to tears over the last chapter, I tucked my tail between my legs and said to my protagonist, Okay, I'll shut up. You tell me the story. Use my fingers, and I'll just clean it up when you're done.

That's what happens when your writing hits a detour. A roadblock. You get constipated and it often becomes a test of wills between you and your characters. They always win with me. Eventually. I'm a storyline softie. I think until you understand the disappointments, the pain of life, you're not as open to the rough road of your characters. Writing the story in your head is difficult enough. Adding in the voices of the characters, it adds a new element. You either fight it, or yield to the seduction.

Sometimes I think that's why our writing improves in the midst of our own aging process. When I was younger, everything had to be perfect. Literally everything. Though I still battle with perfection on every level, I find my edges have softened. In my body, and in my writing. I'm not as hard on myself. I'm more open to my fellowman, and in the struggles of my characters. It's a nasty world out there. And as a Christian, I see many who shut their eyes to world Christ told us to save.

Writing reality is not like watching reality shows on TV. That's not real. They know there's a camera in the room. There's a producer on set. It's not real. Reality can only be found in books. Even if it's fiction. Think about it.

Allowing your characters to speak to you is necessary. Detouring from the outline of the story may save the story. Getting quiet is better than giving up. Wouldn't you agree?

Blessings to you and yours.

The Middle Of The Book

 

 

Back in the ‘sixties when geezers over fifty drove DeSotos and watched Lawrence Welk and kids under twenty drove Volkswagen vans and painted peace signs on their faces and me and my sisters were the only ones on our block who wore bobby socks and saddle shoes, this girl moved two doors down with poker-straight hair and Bob Dylan records and no mother.

Well. Talk about your run-on sentence.

First sentences of any novel should do that. They should pin you to the wall and hold you like super-glue. A first sentence is filled with magic and pierces your heart or peaks your interest to the point that before you know it, you're five chapters in.

But what about the middle of the book? Doesn't it deserve the same?

Lately, I'm finding I've spent as much time on the arc of the story and the chapters following it as I have on that first sentence. Some novels I've read lately have left me flat in the middle. As if the writer had a great idea for the beginning and end, then just filled in the middle the best they could. Sometimes with paragraphs and chapters that have very little to do with the actual story. As a result, my eyes skim over a third of the middle just to find out what happens at the end.

I think the middle of any story should be every bit as thrilling as the beginning. It sometimes answers questions, agreed. Maybe even ties up a few loose ends. But a skilled writer knows how to up the ante, raise the stakes, and turn the tide in the middle pages in ways the reader never sees coming. A good writer can introduce a new character (another rule breaker) or change point of view all while keeping the tone and voice throughout. Keep me enthralled through page 200 and I'll be your biggest fan.

The middle should set up the ending without giving it away. But it's often the most overlooked. It is also where readers find giant pauses. A place they can stuff in their bookmark and put down the book. The question is, are they anxious to get back to it or do they hesitate to pick it back up again?

The middle of the story is where the heart is. Writers, by all means, pay attention to it. Give it as much love as the rest.

Blessings to you and yours.