So You Think You Can Write Dialogue -- Round #4

It's the final week of the Times Colonist contest and this week’s writing is full of fairy godmothers, goddesses, and happy endings. Everyone resisted the Highway of Tears. If we could rewrite the sadness and loss of missing women, we would, I suppose. These stories expressed a longing to protect, to rewrite the story, to surprise the reader with the unexpected.

For this writing prompt, I gave my own story. I was twenty-two and routinely worked the closing shift as a bartender at a golf and country club. One night, when I missed the last bus home, I hitched a ride with a tow-truck driver who lectured me about the dangers of hitching a ride with strangers. He then delivered me safely to my door. He was my fairy god mother.

I want to thank all the writers who took part in the contest. I can’t imagine what they went through to produce a new piece of writing every week, all the things in their busy lives they set aside. It was such an honour to be a judge and to have an opportunity to encourage and critique these assignments. Sometimes my first choice didn’t coincide with “the judge’s first choice.” Overall, however, I could see agreement on what we considered to be “good writing.” I believe the disagreement was over what we considered “a good story.”

That’s just my take on things. It’s been a wonderful ride and I enjoyed every minute of it. Next year, I look forward to kicking back and reading what the new judges have to say, and popping my vote in along with all the other readers.

So You Think You Can Write -- Round #3

Anybody can write fiction, right? It’s a story. We tell stories since the time we are old enough to talk. “He took my bike.” That’s a story.

Not true.

Fiction is different. Show don’t tell.

It’s dialogue.

It’s action unfolding in front of our eyes.

It’s the banana seat or as Raymond Carver taught us, “the telling detail.”

It’s a spell cast over the reader so the present moment becomes something else.

Who cast the best spell this week? I asked of each entry. Which one made me feel I’d stepped into the story at just the right moment? Whose story could I not put down? These were the questions I asked until I came to the clear winner, for me. That’s it, I thought when I’d finished Norris-Jones’ story. That’s the one.

To read Everybody Hurts simply go to this link.

http://www.timescolonist.com/news/writing-contest/index.html

So You Think You Can Write a Poem -- Round #2

When creating the assignment for Round #2, Carla Funk suggested we provide the writers with an image, but what image?

I had been watching Dateline and they were showing all these houses in Detroit that were abandoned and burned, but left standing. The image stuck with me. "Burned out house in Detroit," I suggested.

Carla and Rob both agreed it had something to offer. "Take out Detroit," advised Rob, "make it more open."

Although it was a dark image, and Carla feared that poetry already had a reputation for being morose, we went ahead with it.

Little did we know that one of our finalists would be an insurance adjuster who had seen his share of house fires. Trevor Presley's poem impressed me with its details, things that I thought only someone who had seen the effect of fire firsthand would know.

His poem cautions us to recognize the power of fire. He writes, "It started with Grandma’s soup simmering. An open window, a paper towel, a breeze. Combustion."

Yes, I thought. Fire starts that easily, slips in a window when no one is watching.

How do we learn about the world? Through the experiences of others and their generosity in writing about those experiences. The contestants reponded to the assignment with a range of forms from the winner's pared down lyric poem, to the expansiveness of Presley's prose poem to Dean Norris-Jones' traditional villanelle.
It was a pleasure to read them all.

So You Think You Can Write -- Round #1

I know it’s not funny to laugh at a dog’s misfortune but when Lee Moss wrote, “I remember the day my dog accidentally lost his testicles” I laughed out loud because I never imagined anyone taking the phrase, "I remember the day" and ending it that way. The five finalists submitted their creative nonfiction pieces to the Times Colonist on Monday and I got down to work reading them.

I appreciated every single entry, I did. I took something away from each one whether it was an image of a single-room home darkened by smoke, or an effective line of dialogue: “You’re a useless carpenter, mate,” he said. “Useless.” I learned things. I learned about the radiation bullet, iodine 131, and what it takes to swallow it, and about how the world looks through a colonoscopy. And yes, even for that last one, I was grateful. These writers took risks.

Now, having said that, when I read over the submissions I thought there were a couple of people who might have to step up their game. There are some writers here who are setting the bar high and taking this opportunity seriously. The contest is a chance for the writers to publish their work and to reach a large audience.

There are many competitions out there, but few of them publish the work involved. Publication credits are enormously valuable to a writer. They open doors to grants, to other writing schools, and agents and publishers. As any writer will tell you, it’s hard to get your work published, and so my advice to these writers is to grab this chance. I mean, really take it and run... and dream big. You never know what’s going to come out of it. Much more than the prize, I suspect.

"So You Think You Can Write?"

Sometimes in the solitary world of a writer, a window opens and a neighbour from across the street calls over, “Saw your picture in the TC!” and gives you a thumbs up. Since Sunday’s newspaper hit the streets introducing the judges for the “So You Think You Can Write?” contest, I’ve become a little more visible.

This morning, my favourite birder, who walks Dallas Road with his walker in hand and a pair of binoculars around his neck, stopped me. “I didn’t know you were a writer,” he said. “I wish I could write.” I wish I knew a tiny fraction of what he knows about waxwings, but all I could do was smile and nod.

I’m not used to the attention. Not used to having a man call down from his ladder, “Didn’t know we had a celebrity judge on our street!” I didn’t know there were so many people who read the Times Colonist. Would they follow the contest? I wondered. Would they vote for their favourite writer? Would they boo the judges’ decisions?

I’ve already been tagged as the “emotional judge.” In an interview for the Camosun website, I confessed to liking stories that moved me to laughter and tears. Isn’t that what all good literature does? But I guess people are looking for different kinds of experiences when they read. So, I’ll take the title and try not to get too emotional about it.

I’m looking forward to the contest, to learning the names of the finalists. We don't know yet who the writers are because it was a blind judging. I'm looking forward to the actual part where the writers perform before the reading public and the judges get to talk about writing. It’s a conversation I’ve been having for a long time with students and other writers. But this is a chance to have it right out in the open, like cleaning one’s gutters or weeding the garden.

In closing, I wanted to thank TC's Tanya Chasse whose idea it was to run this contest. Without her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. “So You Think You Can Write?” contestants will be announced this Sunday in the TC and I, for one, will be running next door to steal my neighbour’s newspaper to learn the names.

Blocking the Movement of Characters

A word of advice as you move your characters around the page. It's not necessary to block each movement because the details can overwhelm the reader. An example to address this is changing: "Ellen comes around to the armchair and sits down. Her whole body is shaking." To: "Ellen's whole body is shaking as she lowers herself into the armchair."

In the first quote you have a sentence that is pure blocking followed by a sentence with the interesting detail. Merging the two lends authenticity to the interesting detail, eliminates a less dynamic sentence and allows the reader the freedom to imagine the layout of the room to suit them.

In first person it can be especially intrusive to block the characters' movements and you end up with something I call the "cooking show" effect whereby it sounds like this: "I'm adding two eggs and then I'm folding them in." Characters shouldn't be narrating their lives as they go, just living them.

Example,

I opened the door and found my wallet lying open on the seat. (cooking show)

Inside the car, my wallet lay open on the seat. (not the cooking show)

Creative Nonfiction -- A Talk by Wayson Choy

Wayson Choy, author of The Jade Peony, spoke at the Humber School for Writers about creative nonfiction and the courage it takes to write it. His talk was called “Speak, Memory” and here are the notes I took:

What used to be called memoir is now called creative nonfiction. It encompasses writing that is from a personal point of view, experiences as we understand them, not necessarily “the facts.”

Understand the difference between the truth of your experiences and factual truths. For example, you have an investment in the mother you know as mother. Your story about your mother may be different from a sibling’s story. Write your story.

What is essential to the story is often invisible, such as emotion. Writing at the literary level means to write with a keener sense of knowing. The things you comfortably remember are boring. Don’t settle for what is comfortable.

Some people worry about what others will think. What will my mother think? What will my father think? “I’m comfort-blind,” said Wayson Choy. “I want discomfort. Education is the process of disturbance. I want the truth of my experience, not illusion.”

Wayson Choy talked about his background: “Chinatown [in Vancouver] was an outside colony where people were not wanted. It was a ghetto.” We internalize the oppression we experienced growing up.

Be aware, he warned the audience, about “toxic certainties.” Any certainty, especially when you think you are one degree better than someone else, is a toxic certainty. “Drop your judgments so you see the world new,” he advised. “Sit down. You have a theme. Love? What are your certainties about it? What judgments?” These certainties cause us to skirt around the story. “Love has no rules,” he stated.

If you are writing a memoir that matters, know yourself. It takes courage and daring. Astonish yourself.

Ten Tips for Writing Fiction

At the Humber School for Writers, Miriam Toews and Richard Scrimger gave their “Ten Tips for Writing Fiction.”

1. Every story has a forward tilt.
 
2. Use your best energy for writing – your best time of the day.

3. Know your main character before you begin.

4. Be brave. Every occupation has its risks. Be as honest as you can, as intelligent as you can. Miriam Toews said, “I feel nervous before I write, exhilarated.”

5. 90 Minute Rule: Commit to ninety minutes of writing. You can stop at that point or go on. It’s okay to stop. You’ve accomplished something.

6. Give your subconscious time to work on the problems that arise in your novel.

7. Take your notebook with you, Miriam Toews said. “I jot down everything. I stop mid-conversation and write something down. I’m a writer. I don’t have a fall-back career.”

8. About writing fiction, Richard Scrimger advised, “Stay on message. Ring in the fire.”

9. When writing a novel, it’s helpful to make notes as you go. Miriam Toews writes these notes in caps and puts them at the end of the document. Other than that, she tries to write the story chronologically. “All my odd anecdotes usually work. I write them intensely.”

10. About calling yourself a writer...Why not? Maybe there will be a time when people will know you’re a writer by what you do, not what you say. If you are constantly writing, what else are they going to call you?

The Story Takes Place Somewhere Local -- Alistair MacLeod

In his workshop at Humber School for Writers, Alistair MacLeod talked about the importance of place. Here are some of the points he made.

Literature takes place somewhere.

People write about what worries them – what they think about. In different regions, we worry about different things. In most places in Canada in November people are worried about the oncoming winter. Winter will kill you if you don’t prepare for it. But in Victoria in November, people have different worries. They’re not so worried about snow tires.

Let’s say you sit down to write a story about a missing son. It’s a universal worry, right? The son is 15 years old. What happened to him? The specific worry is regional. He might have cracked his snowmobile up or gone through the ice, but not in Victoria. In Victoria, it’s a different worry. No snowmobile. Maybe the boy was on the bus late at night and was stabbed. Maybe that’s what happened to him, but as a mother living in Victoria, you’re not going to worry about your son freezing to death.

Geography affects our ability to make a living.

On the West Coast and the East Coast, people worry about the DFO (Department of Fisheries and Oceans). What’s the DFO doing about low sockeye salmon stocks? What’s the DFO doing about the lobster catch? What’s the DFO doing to help those affected by the global recession? The DFO, the DFO, the DFO. In Manitoba, they don’t talk about the DFO; they talk about CWB (Canadian Wheat Board). They talk about the price of grain and the CWB, the CWB, the CWB.

If a writer does these specific worries well, people identify because we all have worries about feeding our families. We’re all dependent to some degree on resources and whether the steel mill or the saw mill is being shut down in our area.

Think in scenes that take place in a specific locale: in a kitchen, at a bus stop, in a graveyard. Don’t think in terms of events like WWII. Think in terms of the woman walking down the street with a parrot on her arm. What street? A street in New York City. Is that Woody Allen’s New York City? The place you choose will give you images to draw on. New York images, Saskatoon images, Vancouver images.

As a writer, it’s your job to bring the news. Bring the issues that affect us. Ground these issues in a specific locale.

Alistair MacLeod Talks About Plot

Every morning I took my seat in Alistair MacLeod’s workshop at Humber College and I scribbled down his words so I wouldn’t forget them. Here’s what he had to say about plot.

Plot is when you can go in anywhere in the story and ask, “Why?”


Alistair drew a string of boxes on the board and in each box, an event. Queen died. King died. Dog died. Prince died. So far, there is no plot here. Plot is a causal, not chronological series of events.


So how do you make the events into something more? You link them with cause and effect. When the queen died, what effect did it have on the king? Then what happened as a result? Plot consists of an action and the consequence of that action.

When the queen died, the king fell into a deep state of grief, neglecting his young son. He trusted his brother to raise the boy and as a result the prince grew to become a cruel and arrogant young man. One day, the prince was out hunting and a dog crossed his path. It was an ugly thing and the prince struck it down with his sword. The dog died and in that instant a spell was cast on the land.

That's just a quick example to illustrate cause and effect. Next time you are shaping a story or a novel, consider how one event leads to the next.

What Makes or Breaks a First Page?

Craig Pyette, editor with Random House Canada, and Robyn Read editor with Freehand Books, have seen their share of first pages. They know what they like and what they don't. Recently, they spoke to a group of seventy writers at Humber School for Writers eager to hear the words, "Yes, send us your manuscript. We’d like to read the whole thing.”

Set a scene on page one. Get the reader invested. Show, don’t tell us, what the character is like.
The page must show substantive editing. Proofread several times.
The opening sounds contemporary, relevant to today’s reader. (Avoid openings that sound too much like an early Canadian novel – too much like Sinclair Ross, for example).
Dialogue shouldn’t need commentary around it. It should be strong and stand on its own.
Too many plotlines on page one is a problem. It means there’s going to be too much editing involved in clearing them all up.
I won’t go to the next page if the writing is too “spelled out” for me.
Body language, the adjustment of a purse on the shoulder is good. It provides a beat between things, provides pacing. Avoid too much head nodding, shaking of heads. Head gestures are overdone.
A kooky character is interesting. “The father’s paranoia grabs my attention, but then you go and kill him off on page one. I was just getting to like him.”
Establish the point of intrigue soon.
A hint of zaniness on the first page is good.
Don’t start with weather. It was a dark and stormy night…”Uh huh? Where have I heard that one before?”

The first page is important. People walk into a book store and open the first page. What are you going to put on it to get their attention?

What Editors Want in a Query Letter

Craig Pyette editor with Random House Canada, and Robyn Read editor with Freehand Books, recently spoke at Humber School for Writers on the topic of query letters. What gets an editor’s attention?

Short is better. Shorter than one page.
Mention recent publications.
Include appropriate experience that directly relates to the book you’ve written.
If there’s humour in the book, then a little humour in the cover letter is nice.
Short fiction is a hard sell. Why is yours different? Why will this collection rise above all the rest?
You must present the project as complete, not make it sound like you want an editor to do all the work of assembling it.
Don’t narrow your book to one season – a Christmas book. It’s hard to make money on just one season.
Be accurate. The title in the query letter should be exactly the same as the title on page 1.
How will this book be relevant to today’s reader?
Does your cover letter suggest a clear trajectory? What’s the story arc?
It’s good to mention your mentors because they might be willing to write blurbs.
If a press turns the project down, don’t get discouraged. Perhaps they just put out a book on mental health and that’s their quota for the year.
Don’t refer someone to a webpage to view your work.
How is your book a new take on immigrant fiction?
Why mention extensive travel when the novel does not have any travel in it? Biographical details must be relevant to this novel.
Use the phrase, “This novel is about...” Don’t tell the editor to imagine. Imagine a world ruled by whales except nobody knows it’s ruled by whales except the whales...
The pitch should focus on one aspect of the novel.

One question from the audience elicited different responses from the two editors: In the query letter, should you mention that your book is similar to another person’s book? For example, This memoir is like Eat, Pray, Love but with a twist. It’s not Tuscany; it’s Whitehorse...

Robyn Read gave it a thumbs down. You have one chance to grab an editor’s attention. Why are you detracting from your own work by mentioning someone else’s? Craig Pyette gave it a thumbs up. It’s one of the first things book stores want to know. Where are they going to shelve it? It’s more to do with marketing than anything else. Knowing your market is good.

Publishing Realities at a Big House

David Kent, CEO with HarperCollins Canada, spoke at the Humber School for Writers about the realities of publishing, starting with the statement that publishing is a business and must make a profit or it will not exist.

Most books that are published don’t sell more than a hundred copies. That’s the reality. Publishers take all the risks and with that in mind, they publish a range of books. It’s similar to an investment portfolio where you want to have a range of stocks and bonds to minimize the risk.

Publishers are looking for good writing, whether it’s commercial writing or literary writing.

If you want to be published, get to know editors and editors’ assistants. How? Ask writers about their editors. Ask them who they’ve worked with. Look at the Acknowledgment page at the back of their books. Who are they thanking? Try to figure out if your book is a good match with an editor’s expertise.

Take advantage of any opportunity to introduce yourself to an editor. For example, if you are attending a workshop and editors are there making presentations, just go up after the talk and introduce yourself. If you have a finished product, tell them about it.

The pitch. When someone asks you what your novel is about, you should be able to tell them in three sentences. Prepare your pitch in advance. Ask your friends, “Does this sound good? Too timid? Too egotistical?” Don’t oversell your work. Don’t undersell it. Just answer the question: What’s your book about?

An advance is important, no doubt about it, but even more important are royalties. The bottom line is that you want people to buy your book. Do everything you can to get the word out.

Build your author platform before your book comes out. What’s an author platform? It’s anything that tells the world that you are an author and you have a book. It’s networking and it comes in many forms from the traditional word of mouth – tell your friends – to social media like Twitter or Blogger.

The good news? Publishers are looking for good writers. They want to find you.

Writing Your Second Book

Robert Rotenberg, author of the urban crime novel, Old City Hall, recently gave a talk to Humber School for Writers about what happens on the way to writing a second book. Here are some notes from his talk.

Many years of thinking go into a first book, sometimes as many as fifteen years. With a second book, you might not have fifteen years, but nonetheless you need lots of “thinking time.” Try to remember how much thinking time went into the first novel and give yourself permission to put down your pen once in a while and just think. You don’t have to be writing every minute.

Keep going to the edge of your talent. You put a lot of yourself in your first book. Writers tend to retreat in subsequent books. They don’t expose themselves as much. Maybe they are more aware – too aware of their audience. Don’t be afraid to pour yourself into the second book in the same way you took risks with the first.

Get started on the second book right away. Don’t wait for things to happen with the first book. Enjoy the feeling of writing without a deadline, without anyone looking over your shoulder. It’s a bit like writing the first book in this way. There's still a state of innocence.

Here’s a writing tip that comes from the world of screen-writing: “Come in late, leave early.” So for example, come into a chapter late. Things are already happening, dialogue is underway, tension is mounting. Then leave early. Leave your reader wanting more so they’ll turn to the next chapter.

And finally, it's not just a book; it's a career. In other words, it's okay to work hard at this job and believe in yourself and give it lots of your time. You're not just writing a book, it's a career you're building.

Writer and Agent

Joe Kertes, author and founder of the Humber School for Writers, recently spoke at Humber College about the business of getting published. This is a summary of his talk.

A manuscript has five readers. In order they are

1. You
2. An agent
3. Editor of a publishing house
4. Reviewers
5. Readers

It's important to have an agent because they can walk by the slush piles and the assistants. They can walk in the front door of a publishing house and say to an editor, "I think you should read this."

An agent has done her homework. She knows which publishers will like your book and which won't. Writers don't usually know this information.

Underneath publishers are a network of scouts. Your agent will know these scouts and be able to put your book in their hands.

The hierarchy goes like this:

Publisher
Scout
Agent
Subagent

Agents can negotiate better terms than you can. They won't sign away film rights, for example. Publishers will leave out clauses and agents will spot these omissions.

Agents can get after publishers and demand the marketing of your book.

A first-time writer takes 10 times the amount of time to promote. Most agents won't deal with the entry-level writer.


Literary agent, Margaret Hart, also spoke about the role of agents and what they are looking for from writers. Here is a summary of her talk.

A lot of agents are former English teachers who appreciate good writing.

Manuscripts have to be ready: a good story, well-written, energetic, a good arc to the story. If you want to stay up reading the book, that's a good sign.

Recently a publisher at Penguin asked Margaret Hart, "Can you tell me this is excellent writing?" It made her pause. She could say it was a good story, promising writing, even good writing, but excellent writing?

An agent wants to be able to say about your book. "Yes, it's excellent writing."

Sometimes a publisher can't take a book because they just bought a book on the same topic.

Writers have to be patient and wait their turn. An agency is representing numerous authors.

End of Talk (Humber School of Writers, July 10, 2010)

Country Roads: Memoirs from Rural Canada at Munro's Books

Munro's Books in Victoria is carrying Country Roads in their Canadiana section right near the front of the store. So easy to spot that cover with its colourful chicken! I'm very proud to have a memoir in this book.

John Irving on the Writer's Craft

Book Signing vs. Book Club

David Mamet's Advice

START, EVERY TIME, WITH THIS INVIOLABLE RULE: THE SCENE MUST BE DRAMATIC. it must start because the hero HAS A PROBLEM, AND IT MUST CULMINATE WITH THE HERO FINDING HIM OR HERSELF EITHER THWARTED OR EDUCATED THAT ANOTHER WAY EXISTS.

If you'd like to see the whole memo go to:
http://www.movieline.com/2010/03/david-mamets-memo-to-the-writers-of-the-unit.phphttp://

The Author Platform

At Humber the buzz was all about building an author platform. Check out this link.

http://www.thebookdesigner.com/2010/03/author-platform-what-are-you-waiting-for/

The Humber School for Writers

The week is winding down and what a rich experience. Last night's student readings were amazing. I read from my newly finished novel, Pike Bay Lodge, but I was just one of about 45 students who read at the event. There was such variety in the writing: everything from baseball players to rubber chickens, to Cape Breton mines. And speaking of Cape Breton...

Alistair MacLeod led a wonderful workshop full of insight and laughter. He told us to write about the things that worry us, reminding us that these things are directly connected to where we live in Canada. In addition to the morning workshops, we were treated to many lectures. Today's talks were inspiring.

Wayson Choy offered this advice: "The things you comfortably remember are boring." So when you write, you should go to the material that makes you ask, "What is my mother going to think of this?"

MG Vassanji related the story of writing his nonfiction book on India. A lovely, thoughtful speaker, he told us about going to his ancestral home for the first time. To complete the book, he had to return several times but as he advised, "It would take several lifetimes to see India."

The day concluded with a reading of As Birds Bring Forth the Sun by Alistair MacLeod that illicited a standing ovation. We are truly blessed to have this wonderful writer and generous man in our midst.

Laurie Elmquist likes

Country Roads: Memoirs from Rural Canada

Writing a Novel: Revision

There are so many levels of revision. The big picture is what I'm looking at right now.

Does Chapter one lead into Chapter two? I don't mean "lead into" in an obvious way. Sometimes the two chapters don't have anything to do with each other and it's juxtaposition that I'm going for.

Sometimes it's a resting spot, so the reader can regroup and get ready for what comes next.

Sometimes I'm working hard to supply all the components of plot that I'm going to need later on in the story.

I'm often working on the shape of the chapter. If it's going up and up and up, I can't tack on another scene at the end that spins it downward. It must go up and up and up, then cut.

It's deeply satisfying work but I do wonder if it will be finished in time for my end of June deadline.

Writing a Novel: Images

Lately I've been thinking about images and how they differ from description. Seems to me that they shimmer with a certain luminosity not found in the usual description of a scene.

So, as I revise, I'm reading for images. When does the moment occur when the reader pauses and really sees something. Do I have enough of those moments, ordinary moments that glow?

That's today's challenge.

Writing a Novel: Structure

Building a Novel

The inciting incident establishes the narrator's baseline. Initial philosophy revealed, the status quo established. The narrator is stuck in a certain way of thinking, a specific belief system.

In the scenes that build the narrator resists change. Holds onto belief system throughout the novel.

Midpoint of the novel, the narrator is closest to achieving what she/he wants. Within grasp but he or she loses it.

Crisis: The narrator faces such questions as: Do I change or not? What am I made of? Biggest dilemma of her/his life. The narrator is the furthest away from success. Zero hope.

Climax: Show how the narrator has changed.

End with a different belief system. How did the narrator change?

Writing a Novel: One Step at a Time

Annie Dillard wrote this passage in her book, The Writing Life:

You climb a long ladder until you can see over the roof, or over the clouds. You are writing a book. You watch your shod feet step on each round rung, one at a time; you do not hurry and do not rest. Your feet feel the steep ladder's balance; the long muscles in your thighs check its sway. you climb steadily, doing your job in the dark. When you reach the end, there is nothing more to climb. The sun hits you. The bright wideness surprises you: you had forgotten there was an end. You look back at the ladder's two feet on the distant grass, astonished.