The Read/Not Read Conflict . . . NOT

They say that if you're in the majority, you'd better step back a minute and re-examine your position.

I like that as a general application, but I just can't get past this one.

A writer refuses to read her genre while she's writing. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me too much if she refused to read any fiction at all while she's writing.

My first response is, "Why in the world not?", followed quickly by, "Don't you write every day—or try to?"

She's not the only one who has formed this distorted belief system. The rationale lies somewhere in concepts of originality and imitation.

If you don't read in your genre, how do you experience new ideas? How do you grow personally as a writer?

And this is awkward: she's being compared to other bestselling authors. She should be irked, right?

I can't imagine not reading my favorite genre. I can't imagine thinking that would put me ahead of the curve.

Am I missing something?

CR: Anne Lamott's Plan B. She is so real.

It's all better with friends.

The Worst Part of Writing

I have a folder for queries and proposals. Not stuffed with ones I've sent, mind you, but rather packed with examples and tips and a trough of ideas that supposedly work.

It's a terrifying folder, really. Built on the back of that other folder I have for synopsises.

An author asked me the other day if I had my query letter and synopsis all ready to go. She knows I'm targeting this month to be finished with my SFD.

I guess I was a bit shocked. It felt like that would be putting the cart before the horse.

Wouldn't it?

I wrote a synopsis ages ago, and that will definitely need re-tooled. Why sweat out a query letter as well, only to have to re-sweat later?

Right?

Well, kinda. The thing with the exercise of writing a synopsis and query letter is that it makes you examine your story from a different perspective.

Rather than being in the middle of the forest, where you can see only so many trees around you at any given moment, writing a synopsis (ugh!) and query letter (blick!) are like flying over the forest in a helicopter. (Or, if you prefer, a glider.) You can see so much more of the countryside, and how everything works together. The details aren't apparent, but the location and shape and expanse are easy to see.

I'm not advocating everyone do this, but it couldn't hurt. Even if you have to suck it up and do them all again later.

CR: Plan B by Anne Lammot. It's a compilation kind of thing, so it will be easy to put down and come back to when the Barclay arrives.

It's all better with friends.

Striking the Match

Every novelist I know reads books on craft their entire career.

I'm taking a workshop from Donald Maass in September, and because I like to have an idea what might be coming, I purchased his newest, The Fire in Fiction. Okay, the another reason might be I can be a little bit of a suck-up.

The INTRODUCTION made me very glad I don't wear dentures because I dropped my jaw more than once.

Take a look:

"What do I mean by passion? Simply put, it is the underlying conviction that makes the words matter. It is the burning drive to urgently get down something specific, something that the reader has to see. It could be as big as a universal truth about human nature or as small as the quality of light on an autumn afternoon on the Nebraska prairie." (pg. 2)

"Passionate writing makes every word a shaft of light, every sentence a crack of thunder, every scene a tectonic shift. When the purpose of every word is urgent, the story crackles, connects, weaves, and falls together in wondrous ways." (pg. 3)

Donald Maass creates big expectations. He sets the bar of storytelling higher and higher. He makes me rethink every plotline, every character, every . . . every word. I believe my writing will be better for it.

This book is shaping up to be my most high-lighted, notated, re-read book on craft yet.

CR: Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott.

(Waiting to receive the new Linwood Barclay for review.)

It's all better with friends.

Speed Bumps in The Zone

Saturday was a 'Wahoo!' writing day for me. Over 2,000 words. (2, 047 to be exact.) Followed by Sunday with a thrilling er, well not-so-thrilling, 366 words. Followed by today with . . . well, it's not over. Right?

What happened? I quit Saturday night because my eyes were getting tired. My new reading eye (LASIK was about nine days old on Saturday) yelled "Uncle!" and I gave in and closed down.

But that's such a lying stretch of foolishness. I've had good writing days in the past with lousy writing days following shortly thereafter. And I can only blame a pooped eye on one of them.

Part of it is fear. The 'zone' puts me on such a high, I'm afraid a) I'll get there and never come down, or b) I'll never find it again.

Time for a Reality Check.

James Scott Bell has a wonderful remedy for any kind of writing reluctance. He does the Nifty 350, or the Furious 500. It's bichoking (Butt in Chair, Hands on Keys) with a short-term target. When he first sits down to write, he goes for his Nifty 350 (or 250 or 450) and then has something very positive already done to kind of jump start his next bichok moment. Which comes easier because, well, look at what he's already accomplished for the day.

Giving yourself a good reason to pat yourself on the back is always effective. Just make sure it's a pat you believe in.

The zone comes and goes. Some days it's elusive, other days it threatens to devour me (how cool are those days?), but I can always tuck myself in for a Nifty 350.

You?

JF: Die For You by Lisa Unger who I discovered thanks to Jenny Milchman.

It's all better with friends.

Not Yet Seamless

I went on a search the other day for an earlier mention of something in the book I'm writing. Scrivener was a great help, because all I could remember were the basics of the scene and in whose POV I'd written. So I went looking for the lilac colored scenes roughly in the place I thought my search would take me.

I found it. But, sorry to say, I found so much more. I'm now a little terrified to finish my SFD and begin the rewrite.

Here's what I'm sure is just the tip of the iceberg:

~ Names of characters who I only used once. They were probably meant to play some small role at some time, otherwise, why did I give them names?

~ Threads that should've gone somewhere, but are just blowing in the wind. And when I saw them, I thought, "Oh yeah, that was good."

~ Threads that should've gone somewhere, but are just blowing in the wind. And when I saw them, I thought, "What in the world was I thinking?"

~ Threads that should've gone somewhere, but are just blowing in the wind. And when I saw them, I thought, "Watching cement dry would be more exciting."

The closer I get to the end of my SFD, the more little bubbles of acid blurp up my throat.

Angst-acid.

CR: Still working on the Lisa Unger. I'm trying to reconfigure how I read books and my Kindle now that I've had LASIK.

It's all better with friends.

Book Review: STRANGLE A LOAF OF ITALIAN BREAD by Denise Dietz

The question begs, who doesn't like Sara Lee?

Someone doesn't, that's for sure. The aspiring actress was strangled with her own Daffy Duck necktie—and tossed in a Dumpster. Community theater will never be the same.

Ellie Bernstein's inquiring mind is now engaged, and she's on the case. The Weight Winners diet club leader sees herself as an amateur sleuth—much to the chagrin of her significant other, homicide detective Peter Miller.

And then of course, that that thing Ellie's doing to her black Persian cat, Jackie Robinson. What was she thinking agreeing to doggie sit for a border collie? The nerve.

Old friend's of Ellie's will delight in her newest adventure in Strangle a Loaf of Italian Bread.

Dietz has such a command of characterization that I feel like I've made a new friend. If my phone were to ring right now, and the caller say, "Hi, this is Ellie", I'd smile and ask her "What's up?"

If you're looking for a fun, light, energizing read (or a new friend), get your hands on a copy of Strangle a Loaf of Italian Bread. I promise, it won't blow your diet.

CR: Die for You: A Novel by Lisa Unger on my Kindle, and . . .

CL: The Night Watcher by John Lutz.

It's all better with friends.

The Collaberation of Writing

If book jackets were truthful, every one would show more than one name as the author. It takes a village to write a novel.

Do you read the acknowledgements? That's where all of the villagers, or "assistant writers" are named. I read them every time.

The actual writing of a novel is lonely. Just me and my keyboard. It's satisfying to see lists of real people who've encouraged, provided information, or otherwise worked as a team to provide support for authors.

There are writers who don't have critique partners and never have, but I'm pretty sure they all have at least one reader at some point.

I'm fortunate to have two fabulous cps. Kelly Irvin is a former journalist and current PR person with her first novel coming out through Five Star in January. Susan Lohrer is a top-notch editor who has worked with several award winning authors. Anything worthwhile that I produce, those two women will have had input on.

Then there are readers and agents and publishers.

Award-winning author Colleen Coble gets downright giddy when she anticipates receiving her edits. She fully understands the "it takes a village" concept and embraces it with enthusiasm.

Then there are all of those resources used for research. Those people are invaluable in putting a book together.

See the number growing? It isn't just the one name on the cover.

And don't forget the family who has to deal with dust bunnies and either frozen pizza or slow cooker meals, and the friends who feel a bit abandoned from time to time.

Maybe the primary author's name is the only one that shows because they don't make book jackets large enough.

CR: Strangle a Loaf of Italian Bread by Denise Dietz. I had LASIK yesterday or I may have finished it. Instead, I finished listening to Just One Look by Harlan Coben.

It's all better with friends.