Microfiction Monday: St. Thom and the Dragon

Welcome to Microfiction Monday, at Stony River: a writing life, where a picture paints 140 characters, or even fewer.

[Hate counting letters and spaces? Try Design 215's character counter, which will count for you as you type. Microsoft Word will count for you too, of course, as part of its word count feature under the 'Review' tab.] Here's this week's picture, and my story to go with it.




Knowing dragons are both greedy and gullible, St. Thom used a bit of his wizardry and gave the fiery one a really good deal on a timeshare. (139 characters)

Posting late this week after spending three days at the rainy but still lovable Oregon coast. This week's MM is inspired by one of the MM gang whose MMs are always a hoot.

Have a great week, everyone.

The Name of the Bear

O creative namers, all of your suggestions were so good. Had I but world enough and time, I would dress my muse up in all manner of outfits and use each of those names for one day of the week. (E.g. Monday it's Sir Montmorency Montague; Tuesday it's Oso Inspired; Wednesday it's Bear Abel... etc.) But, lest my muse fall into an identity crisis, I feel I must pick one...

And the winner is...

Susan at Stony River with William Shakesbear (at least until my Shakespeare novel is FINALLY completed. I kid you not: I am on rewrite #6 and mulling whether to change from 1st person POV to third. Any of you in the trenches who have undertaken anything similar: how did it go for you?)

And now off to see if Mr. Shakesbear will compose me a sonnet.

Microfiction Monday: The Wooden Spell

Welcome to Microfiction Monday, at Stony River: a writing life, where a picture paints 140 characters, or even fewer.

[Hate counting letters and spaces? Try Design 215's character counter, which will count for you as you type. Microsoft Word will count for you too, of course, as part of its word count feature under the 'Review' tab.] Here's this week's picture, and my story to go with it.



The witch crept into the monks' choir. Destroy her, would they? She had other plans. Before the psalm's final note, they were shiny wood. (137 characters).

(If you have time, fair friends, please read my previous post and come up with a name for my new bear muse. Though it might be hard to beat Susan's.... Thanks, and have a great week.)

This Bear Needs a Name!!

In my previous post, I mentioned the bear I won at the SCBWI-Oregon conference. When I thanked the bear's maker, Bob Griggs, for his workmanship, Bob told me that I had to name the bear.
This bear is going to be my muse. Those of you who are good "namers," please take a stab at giving him/her a suitable nom de plume. (As you can see, there's an actual plume to hand!)

Conference Download, Part 2

The best thing about going to writing conferences is rubbing shoulders with other writers. The childrens' writing gang seems even friendlier than most--and I was lucky to have four other members of my critique group there: Cliff, Barbara, Lyra and Rosanne. (Collectively, we are Tale Spinners at least on our GoodReads page.)

I listened to keynotes from three NY editors. Christy Webster is an editor at Random House and she shared info about writing "Step into Reading" books. Anna Bloom, from Scholastic, works on series books and talked about both character-driven series (think Ramona or Judy Moody) and concept-driven series (39 Clues or Goosebumps). Sha handed around a whole stash of books for us to leaf through. The third editor, Little Brown's Kate Sullivan, spoke on plot structure.

I also attended two workshops. One, by agent Michael Stearns, was called Plot Mechanics 101 and was delivered with humour and aplomb. I would write it all out, but I'm not the world's most accomplished typist. (Here's a link to a similar talk he gave elsewhere.)

The second workshop was given by writer Michele Torrey: The Query and Onward. I found it fascinating, as Michele had sold a number of books directly to publishers and gave us very detailed instructions on how to do so. She was an excellent and engaging speaker.

Finally, there was the great door prize give away. Cliff and I waited through about half an hour of people winning--and then it was revealed that a sizeable number hadn't even had their tickets placed in the raffle! we stormed the stage for a second crack at the prizes. Zilch. then, it came down to the grand prize, a handmade teddy bear, stitched together by SCBWI member, Bob Griggs. The woman whose number was called said she didn't want it, so another ticket was drawn: MINE.

So I walked out a winner in so many ways. SCBWI-Oregon is great, and I have to thank Judi and Robin for a great conference. They are bright, funny people and set a marvellous tone for the proceedings.

And now off for yet more revision...

Conference Download

Last Saturday, I attended the SCBWI-Oregon spring conference. I went last year as well. I like the camaraderie of this group, and they have a number of workshops given by editors, agents, and other writers. Last year, my friend and critique group partner, Cheryl, did two marvelous lectures on Point of View and on secondary characters. I learned a lot.

This year, I had actually written "The End" on one of my novels. The novel is about Shakespeare and, when I saw the conference schedule, the agent attending was from an agency named Upstart Crow--an appelation flung at Shakespeare by a jealous contemporary. Was the Shakespeare connection a sign from above? I decided it was, and sent in my first 10 pages and synopsis to be critiqued by this agent.

I had a critique last year on a different novel, and it hadn't gone particularly well, so I kept reminding myself not to have delusions that the agent would be swept off his feet and beg to sign me the minute I walked in the room. (I did indulge in this dream from time to time, though. Couldn't help it.)

The day came, sunny for Oregon. My mood was upbeat. I got my schedule and saw I was to meet with the agent at 9. I made my way up to the room where the critiques were to be held. As I got off the elevator, I ran into a woman I'd met last year. Then, she'd been ecstatic because an editor had asked her to send in more of her work; this time, she looked deflated. Apparently, MY agent had told her that, though she wrote well, she would have to change the beginning of her story. (I have to insert here that the agent used to be an editor, and a pretty highly regarded one at that.)

I slid into the room. The agent was sitting at his desk, rubbing his eyes. I introduced myself to him. "You are British," he exclaimed. "Makes sense now." (For the life of me, I can't seem to eradicate that British voice from my writing.)

His next statement was "Tell me where you're at in your writing." A good omen; I felt it in my bones. He wanted to know if I had a plan, an idea of a career. I told him what I was working on. He nodded, then set to work on his critique.

What impressed me the most was that he had nearly two pages of comments. And they started off with compliments: lots of "likes, loves, and funnies."

But then came the "nevertheless." He had a number of points for revision. I was moving way too fast. I needed to slow down. He gave me homework: to map out the first few chapters of Bruce Coville's Magic Shop novels and understand how Coville paces his work.

And then... when my revision was done... well, he wasn't taking on any more clients, but there was an agent at his agency who was. "Query him and tell him I sent you."

Wow! Sounds like the perfect opening for a query letter...

The agent's note ended with: "Good luck on revisions, thanks for the read, and don't forget to write!"

I've mapped out some Coville chapters. I'm revising like a dervish. Tomorrow, I'll let you know how the rest of the conference went, after I came off cloud nine.

Microfiction Monday: Bess's Bounty

Welcome to Microfiction Monday, at Stony River: a writing life, where a picture paints 140 characters, or even fewer.


[Hate counting letters and spaces? Try Design 215's character counter, which will count for you as you type. Microsoft Word will count for you too, of course, as part of its word count feature under the 'Review' tab.] Here's this week's picture, and my story to go with it:






Hearing the news of the British coalition, Bess decided to send a present to Cameron from her larder. He looked like he'd like canned fruit. (140 characters)

Wednesday's Words of Wisdom for Writers (and Everyone Else too),

From The Pocket Muse by Monica Wood



"My friend Alyson Hagy, whose writing makes me swoon, gave me the best writing advice I ever got:

you have to be willing to write badly"

(The Pocket Muse is a great source for ideas and inspiration).

This advice is hard. Life is short, and the willingness to write badly--meaning that it will all take ever so long until, fingers crossed, it comes out good--is tough. I've just finished a first draft and I know I wrote badly. I can't bear to look at it, which is a good thing, 'cos it's going in a drawer for at least a month.

On the other hand, I'm brimming with a new idea. It's grand, it's sparkling... am I really willing to write it badly?

On an upbeat note, the Oregon SCBWI conference is this Saturday. One whole day of writing and writers. I'm very willing about that!

Microfiction Monday: Karma and Dogma

Welcome to Microfiction Monday, at Stony River: a writing life, where a picture paints 140 characters, or even fewer.


[Hate counting letters and spaces? Try Design 215's character counter, which will count for you as you type. Microsoft Word will count for you too, of course, as part of its word count feature under the 'Review' tab.] Here's this week's picture, and my story to go with it:

Tashi puzzled over what the High Lama told him. If "my dogma ran over your karma," where else had the dang dog been? Underfoot, it seemed.



(What else can I say? It's been a busy week--although not as busy as Susan's. Good karma to all.)

Wednesday's Words of Wisdom for Writers (and Everyone Else too)

Cheffing and scribbling

As a previous post about the musician Jamie Cullum indicated, I'm always on the lookout for stories about other professions that resonate with my idea of what it is to be a writer. Yesterday, I came across an article in The Oregonian about the well-regarded Portland restaurant, Paley's Place. I've never actually set foot inside, even though it's been a jewel in the Portland dining scene since 1995. It is owned by chef Vitaly Paley and his wife, Kim, who runs the front of the house. (When I sell my first book, I'm heading there for a shindig! What say you, Marie?!)

This is what Vitaly Paley had to say in answer to journalist Michael C. Zusman's question: "To what do you attribute Paley's longevity?"

It's been a journey of discovery learning what it is we do here, and I can honestly say that it's only been in the last year that I really have begun to feel confident in my own ability and potential and to feel happy in the kitchen.

The thoughts don't always translate to the fingers--the technical prowess lags the thought process. So, sometimes you are able to think of these crazy interesting new ideas that seem perfectly logical in your head, but when you get it on the plate (page, in my case) all of a sudden you say to yourself "What was I thinking?"These days it seems like my fingers and head are a lot better synchronized.

When I read this, I nearly dropped my tea mug and shouted "Eureka!" It was such a sobering thought: a longtime chef who is so respected feels as if he is just coming into his own. I also loved the phrase about "the thoughts don't always translate to the fingers." I am plodding towards the end of the first draft of a fantasy novel that I thought would be the greatest thing since sliced bread, with all those same "crazy interesting new ideas" a la Chef Paley. But, ditto the Chef: "What was I thinking?" I just hope I can do it better justice in the rewrite.

Mood: Steady Eddie (thanks to lashings of tea and Trader Joe's Fair Trade chocolate).

Big Event coming up: Oldest son treading the boards in the school musical of Grease, starting tomorrow. He's worked very hard and I hope it will be a smashing success. Break a leg, son!

Wintergirls

I don't usually deviate from my posting schedule, but this sounded too good to pass up: Casey McCormick, whose blog I have lauded in a previous post, is giving away a signed copy of Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson. I'll let Casey tell you about it in her own words:

I don't think I've made it a secret that I worship WINTERGIRLS by Laurie Halse Anderson. If I have, feel free to kick me in the comment box because this book is A-MAZING. I think I did a little jump-squeal when I saw the paperback in Costco yesterday. COSTCO! Go, Laurie!Why is this my 10-star book? WINTERGIRLS is a literary work of art, an amazing young adult novel that deals with the hard issues of eating disorders and death in a haunting, poetic way. I feel that Laurie really embraced her talent and took it to the next level in this powerful story. I couldn't be more impressed.

I've read a lot of young adult novels but I hadn't seen the potential of the written word in YA fiction until I read WINTERGIRLS. Laurie is a master at "showing" rather than telling and brings a lyrical quality to her fiction that I'd never experienced before. This book really raises the bar for YA writers everywhere, and it's been a large influence in the way I look at writing. I recommend it to everyone studying craft and/or craving a mind-blowing read. Here's the awesome blurb.

"Dead girl walking," the boys say in the halls."Tell us your secret," the girls whisper, one toilet to another. I am that girl.I am the space between my thighs, daylight shining through. I am the bones they want, wired on a porcelain frame.

Lia and Cassie are best friends, wintergirls frozen in matchstick bodies, competitors in a deadly contest to see who can be the skinniest. But what comes after size zero and size double-zero? When Cassie succumbs to the demons within, Lia feels she is being haunted by her friend's restless spirit.

In her most emotionally wrenching, lyrically written book since the multiple-award-winning Speak, Laurie Halse Anderson explores Lia's descent into the powerful vortex of anorexia, and her painful path toward recovery.

Holy moly, right? Yeah. BUY this book. Or, perhaps you'll be the winner of the SIGNED hardcover copy I'm giving away to one lucky commenter. All I ask is that you leave a comment to enter yourself. I'll give an extra entry if you spread the word via Twitter, Facebook, blog, etc. Just make sure to tell me in the comments if you do and leave a link if possible. The giveaway will be open until Thursday at 12 PM EST so everyone has a chance to enter. I'll announce the winner on Friday. I'm afraid I can't afford to ship internationally, so only enter if you have a US shipping address.On your way out, definitely stop by Caroline Starr Rose's blog for a chance to win a signed ARC of Jame Richards's THREE RIVERS RISING, and the master-list-of-awesome (lots of books being plugged and given away!). If you have the time, please tell me about a book that totally blew your mind. I'm always looking for recommendations! Thanks for reading and good luck to all who enter!

Microfiction Monday: Misheard word

Welcome to Microfiction Monday, at Stony River: a writing life, where a picture paints 140 characters, or even fewer.

[Hate counting letters and spaces? Try Design 215's character counter, which will count for you as you type. Microsoft Word will count for you too, of course, as part of its word count feature under the 'Review' tab.] Here's this week's picture, and my story to go with it:




Sorry, Ted, my mistake. I could've sworn Mom said she wanted us to sing "Roman in the gloamin'." Is it too late to change into a kilt? (135 characters)

Here's the story behind the real Roamin' in the Gloamin', if you're interested.

Have a great week, all!

Pagi-nation: It's all about the Jitterbug

Welcome to the weekly instalment of "Pagi-Nation," in which I spin round my room and pluck an unsuspecting volume off my shelves.

Well, I don't think there can be anything more divergent from Henry James than this week's pick: Tom Robbins' Jitterbug Perfume. In fact, the only thing in common is that they nestle close together on my bookshelf--because I read them in the 80s.

Here's the quote, from right at the beginning of the novel:

Priscilla lived in a studio apartment. It was called a "studio" apartment because art is supposed to be glamorous and landlords have a vested interest in making us believe that artists prefer to sleep in their workrooms. Real artists almost never live in studio apartments. There isn't enough space, and the light is all wrong."

Here are a random smattering of questions: Hey, art is so glamorous, isn't it? Where is your workroom? Have you read Tom Robbins, and what do you think of him? What is your own pagi-nation of the week?

I would like to thank everyone who comments on my blog. It is truly a delight to be in conversation with each one of you.

Have a happy writing week.