Wednesday Blog Post: Time to get back to the grind

So, I know I didn't post last week. I'm contemplating reorganizing the structure of the blog, perhaps relaunching it as of the first of the new year. When I figure out what changes, if any, will be best, I'll let you know.

I decided to spend today working solely on my writing - at least for the afternoon. I went to the Portland Public Library and got a few books, including one on writing. For undergoing renovations, they did have a selection of writing books to choose from - I didn't expect any at all, so that was a welcome surprise.

I then got a chai at Bard Coffee in town and sat for a while, sketching out potential article ideas. While I'm pretty sure a daily reporting job isn't for me, I do like writing feature articles on topics I'm interested in. The ideas I have do require a bit of research, yes, but I'm hoping it'll be worth it in the end. At this rate, if it's getting words flowing, even with how few of them end up on the page, who am I to turn that inspiration away?

Someday I'm going to get my writing life back on track, no matter what method it takes to do so.

Wednesday Blog Post: Falling Behind

I haven't written in what feels like weeks. I don't want to count the days, because then I'll just feel worse, knowing that I let something I love fall so low on my list of priorities.

It's not that I don't want to, not really. I'm still working on reading all of my writing material - currently, an issue of The Writer and You Can Write a Novel by James V. Smith Jr. I've all but given up on my writing practice, which is sad, because I was doing so well with it previously. I understand the need to adjust to living in a new place and the resulting changes in routine - I no longer have to drive so far to work each day, which is awesome, but it's leaving me with more time to sleep in and procrastinate. But there's a part of me that feels like I need to get pen to paper soon, or I'm not going to be able to keep up with anything.

Hence my decision to postpone NaNoWriMo for another year. I'd like to think I could tackle it, but I'd rather save the energy for a real try at it than force myself to do it and get pissed off when I fail to reach 50,000 words. I don't even know what my next novel subject would be yet, and that's not good for starting any major project.

I am, however, rereading some of my old writing practice snippets, especially the Imperial Story clips. Some of the lines are actually really good, and I'd forgotten all about them. Maybe, just maybe, this will inspire me to get my ass back in the chair and back to work.

Friday Writing Response for October 30, 2009

Oh wow, I haven't posted one of these in forever. This response is based on a trip my friend Josh and I made to Fort Williams, where there's a lighthouse and really pretty shoreline. There's no actual beach, but the water crashing into the granite cliffs were pretty amazing. This is a snippet of what I got out of it.


---


They wouldn't let him into the lighthouse (which, in Quentin's opinion, was complete and utter bullshit), so he explored the ruins instead. At one point, Fort Williams was a stationed base, mounted guns along one side, protecting the easternmost port in the country at the time. Now it was just crumbling structures and graffiti covered walls.

And there was the ocean. Here there was no white sandy beach and quiet waves; the surf pounded into the granite boulders forming the cliffs. There was a sense of power in the white foam at the base of the rocks, an act of God in plain sight. It was almost like he could hear a woman's voice on the wind, beckoning him to join him in the water.

Every artist was inspired by something different; this view was one of Quentin's favorites. He climbed down to the small rock outcropping, careful to avoid any spot that looked wet, sketchbook clutched in one hand. Let the rich kids have their celebration. This, in his mind, was a better way to spend the afternoon.

Monday Writing Prompt: Motivation

So I've really been dropping the ball when it comes to writing, these last few weeks. It's not an excuse to say I've been busy, because then it sounds like I haven't made writing as a big a priority as I need it to be. Now that things have settled down some - mostly unpacked in the new place, and one of my best friends in the whole world on his way home after spending a few days here, it's time to get back on track.

Plus, I have at least one reader who remembers to poke me when I haven't posted - Meg, my dear, you are amazing, and thank you for the reminders! ♥

With that thought in mind, this week's prompt is simple:

Motivation.

That's right, find one thing that inspires you do something with writing. No matter how small, if it creates some words for you, go with it. I'm working on a little piece now, based on the lighthouse trip I made with Josh while he was here. We'll see if anything coherent comes out of it.

Wish me luck! And this time, I WILL post on Friday.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Monday Writing Prompt: In Hiding

So, first off, many apologies for not getting a writing response up last week! Friday was my big moving day and, needless to say, it left me exhausted. I'm not the kind of person who likes to stare at boxes, so most of my time this weekend has been devoted to getting things in order and finding out where the hell I put everything.

I've not forgotten about writing, however. I'm getting back into the routine of my daily writing practice and, of course, posting to this here blog. This week's prompt is inspired by my kitty, Lily, who is currently quite angry with me for moving her into a new place.

The prompt is in hiding. That's right, Lily has not come out of the basement since I brought her to our new home. I got her to come out for kitty treats this morning, but that's it. Perhaps this prompt will work for you - either coaxing a difficult character to talk, giving good reasons for going into hiding, whatever the case may be.

As for me? I'm going to try and write in between begging my kitty to come out and play. I'll let you know on Friday how successful I've been.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Wednesday Blog Post: Procrastination Week

I haven't done my writing practice today. Again. I feel like such a fool for admitting that out loud, but it's true. Today was hard, because of the way my schedule fell - I closed last night, opened this morning, came home to find my couch and a long nap while watching Food Network.

Tomorrow, I promise, back to the notebook. I've always been the type to push myself beyond my limits, and I know I have too much on my plate at the moment. Time to slow down, take a deep breath, and let my creative energies recharge for the night, like the nap did for my body. (Naps, in case you were wondering, are one of the best things in the world. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.)

As a warning, I may not get to Friday's writing response until sometime late Friday night or on Saturday. Friday is the day of the big move, including dismantling my computer. The new place has wireless and I'm sure I'll be up and running in no time, but I figured I would give anyone waiting a notice in advance.

On a side note, this doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about writing. A new character popped into my head while at work yesterday, just based on the name on a customer's credit card - Tessa. Not sure where I'm going to use her yet, or how long it will take to flesh out her background, but the idea definitely got rolling in my head. And between drinks, character ideas are always welcome.

Getting a chance to write everything I come up with down in time, however, is a bigger challenge, one I'm sure every writer faces. I've taken to jotting quick notes on my hand between customers. The ink stays on my hands for a day or two, and if I can't transcribe my thoughts before then, tough cookies.

Monday Writing Prompt: Free For All 2

I do feel bad about this week's lack of a new writing prompt. I have so much going on right now that it's hard to find time to think, much less do anything else. Ad I'm in the process of packing everything up and getting it to my new place, my free time lately has been spent vegging out because I don't have the energy to do much else.

Hopefully you'll have more motivation (and inspiration!) than me to get some work done this week. Take a look through all the prompts from weeks past and see if any strike your fancy. All the prompts can be found here:

Monday Writing Prompt tag

I'll have something to post on Friday, I promise, though the quality of said post remains to be determined. Have a good week, and wish me luck!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for October 9, 2009

This week's response is just a brief snippet, as I didn't have as much time to write as I hoped I would have. Pakcing and moving stuff on top of work takes up a lot of time! So, what I have is an intro to a journal entry, told from the point of view of a very girly, princess-like brat named Ravyn. She's fun to write, at least so far.

Also, today is the first day when I haven't completed my writing practice. I've got so much going on, my brain is fried. Tonight is my one day off, and I'm cracking the whip tomorrow.


---


Lesson #1: Do not go to the comic store in one of your best dresses.

Lesson #2: Do not go in stiletto heels. (They were such beautiful shoes, though!)

Lesson #3: And for god's sake, don't piss off the woman your brother is trying to get with!

Finally met Peyton today...

Wednesday Blog Post: Random Inspiration

Sometimes, when you're doing anything else besides writing, inspiration walks up and smacks you in the face. I've read the testimonies of other writers, who talked about solving plot issues while going out for a walk, doing laundry, playing with their dog, you name it.

Me? I was listening to music. Procrastinating writing, because I didn't want to sit down at my desk yet.

I've been toying with the idea of a short story collection, filled with fictionalized stories about each of my exes. I'm at the point where I'm brainstorming ideas, figuring out what would work, what won't, and the like. And today, I'm bouncing around my room listening to "Down and Out" by The Academy Is... and "Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today" by Fall Out Boy when it hits me: the title of my collection.

Never Burned My Bridges.

I like this because it implies a few things. One, that I'm the type who doesn't let anything go, which I am. Two, that at least some of the people I'd be basing characters on are ones I would like to talk to again, but have "burned the bridge" and want nothing to do with me. I like the image of saying you've walked away, that it doesn't matter and you can't go back, but in reality, you're still standing there on the other side of the bridge, hoping to cross it.

Considering that I'm usually crap with titles, I'm excited to find one that might work. Now I just have to get up and actually work on the project. We'll see when - if - my ideas come together.

Monday Writing Prompt: A Letter From Your Characters

I first saw this idea in The 3 A.M. Epiphany by Brian Kiteley. This week, let one of your characters do the talking, whether in an online blog post, a journal entry, a letter they'll never send. Kiteley called this exercise "Letters From Inside the Story," and it was one I wanted to try the second I got the book. It's full of different prompts, grouped together by the writing technique or topic they emphasize. The book is definitely worth a read if you're looking for some inspiration.

One of my biggest flaws I've been noticing in my writing lately is voice. It's not easy for my characters to sound distinctive; I'm noticing this especially when comparing Emma to Zeke, or Anitra to Briyant. By giving a character a chance to reveal something intimate, in their own voice, without the fear of another character listening in, I'm hoping to tap into something real.

This is another exercise that, more than likely, will not make it into the final draft of your story. I'm just hoping I stumble upon a character's deep, dark secret. Either way, I'll let you know how it goes on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for October 2, 2009

I didn't get to play with this week's prompt as much as I hoped, but I do have one response. This is from my writing practice a couple weeks ago, a line that I ended up loving. I've taken some of the punctuation marks, thinking it might help the poem a bit.

Thoughts always welcome!



Her engagement ring needed a
funeral,
a memorial service
something to
commemorate -
to celebrate -
the time in her life when
she truly believed anything was possible
that one day
she might hope for those days to come again

Wednesday Blog Post: Songs and Writing

I'm a firm believer that every story has a soundtrack. Not in the sense of movie scores, exactly, but that certain songs remind me of certain pieces of a story and, whenever I hear them, it always gets me in the mood to write.

Take today, for example. I was driving to the bank when Howie Day's "She Says" came on my iPod. The original acoustic version from Australia, not the revamped one that appears on Stop All The World Now (both are great, but I favor the acoustic more). I wrote most of And You Tell Me I Am Home to Howie Day's albums, because it seemed to fit the mood I was going for. And the lyrics to "She Says" fit Zeke to a T:

And when she said she wants somebody else
I hope you know that she doesn't mean you
And when she breaks down and makes a sound
You'll never hear her the way that I do
And when she says she wants someone to love
I hope you know that she doesn't mean you
And when she breaks down and lets you down
I hope you know that she doesn't mean to

He's the guy Emma's always wanted, back in the picture for good. It's like he's giving the finger to Jay, so to speak, saying that he knows her better than Jay does.

As a matter of fact, I think this is a feeling that needs to be addressed more fully in the novel. I wanted it to be, but in retrospect, I don't feel that it was. A note for the revision, to be sure.

I could write for days about the impact music has on my writing. The little snippet today was enough to remind me that, hey, inspiration triggers everywhere, even when you're driving to the bank. Whether or not you take the time to listen to it is up to you.

Monday Writing Prompt: Found Poems

Okay, this exercise isn't so much about creating something new, but about looking at something you've already written in a whole new way. I remember an exercise similiar to this from my AP English class in high school, in which we created a poem from any passage we found in a book or magazine or advertisement. Mine came from Roger Zelazny's Amber Chronicles. If you're surprised by my sci-fi nerdiness, you must be a new reader of the blog. :)

The idea is simple: Take a few lines of your work in progress and reorganize it into stanza form. Don't rearrange the order of the words themselves, but put some thought into where the line breaks are, where the reader is forced to draw a breath. Maybe you'll pick a lyrical line that lends itself well, or a passage you're having trouble with.

I like this exercise because I find myself focusing less on the words themselves, but rather on playing with the structure of the poem. Sometimes all you need is a nudge in the right direction to se what's not working in a piece - or, on the other hand, what is.

I'll share a few examples on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for September 25, 2009

I went in a different direction than I originally planned with this week's writing prompt. My first thought was to write out the major points in Emma's history, like a timeline of events. Instead, I used my writing practice to tackle a few scenes set before the novel begins, before Zeke moves away. I found myself coming up with details I hadn't thought of before, like the fact that Emma has a younger brother, Craig. I'm going to stick with this a bit and see where it goes.

At some point, I do want detailed histories for my characters. For now, I'm just happy to know a little more about them. This snippet shows a bit of that, told from Emma's point of view.


---


"Besides," Leigh added, flopping down on the couch like she owned the place, "we were out ghost hunting, and you know how Emma gets whenever we go out to Hell Hollow."

"You killed the lights on the car!" Emma wasn't about to let her best friend portray her as some sort of scaredy cat, afraid of the dark. "In case you didn't notice, there's no moon tonight. We couldn't see a thing."

"We had a flashlight."

"That you kept taking away from me every time you thought you heard something!"

This, at least, brought a hint of a smile to Zeke's face. It was a start, and that was enough for Emma. "You went ghost hunting without me? Guess I really do need to answer my phone more often."

Leigh rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Since I don't think we'll be able to talk Emma into going back out - which is a shame, by the way, I wanted to go to Trinity Church tonight - what are we doing for the rest of the evening? Your parents are out for the time being, yes?"

Wednesday Blog Post: Computer Programs

Stopping into Apple to see my boyfriend last night, I once again found myself looking over their giant wall of computer programs for sale. They have one called the Writer's Dream Kit, and I was very excited to learn that it also works on a Windows computer.

I almost bought it on sight, but I stopped myself, for two reasons. One was the price - I'm not made of money, so $60 on an impulse buy is a lot for me. The second reason was that I wasn't sure if it would be helpful for my writing.

I know myself: I can easily get caught up in the planning process. I bought a huge pack of fine-tip Sharpie markers so I could work on the massive scene-by-scene outline for And You Tell Me I Am Home. I forced myself to stop plotting once I got to the big fight between Emma and Zeke, so I could still have some surprises when I got to the ending. It's so easy to get lost in character profiles and outlines and plot arcs that you don't get to the actual writing. That's exactly what I don't want to happen.

Still, I wonder how the program works. Does anyone use it, or something similar? This may require some Internet research. I think I'll probably break down and buy it anyway, just like how I buy more writing books when I haven't finished the ones I've started. If it helps with the writing, great! If not, we'll try something knew. Maybe a new program is just what I need.

Monday Writing Prompt: Backstories

Forgive me - this is posted a day late! I had everything written up and completely spaced last night. I suck :(

Last week's blog post got me thinking: Too many of my characters lack decent backstories. Take, for example, my novel And You Tell Me I Am Home. We have Emma Wilson. She's a barista who always wanted to be a writer, even went to school for English, and was still sad about one of her best friends moving away after high school. Oh, and she recently broke up with her boyfriend.

And that's it. The structure is so thin, it's anorexic. And no one wants an anorexic plot.

Does this sound like one of your characters? If so, this is the week to fix it. Your challenge, and mine, is to work on some backstory for a character you're struggling with. This work may never end up becoming part of the final story, but it's information you, as the writer, need to know.

I'm hoping this will help me get to know Emma, maybe Zeke and Leigh too, a little better before starting the next draft of the novel. I could certainly use an extra kick of inspiration. Friday's post will hopefully have some awesome results.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for September 18, 2009

This week's prompt didn't work for me. Not given the week I've had with apartment searching and the trials and tribulations thereof. So, therefore, this week's response is a sample from my writing practice, which in itself is a feat, that I managed to get it done.

From the Imperial Story, very late in the storyline. It's hard to avoid spoilers with this one, but this may be part of a potential ending for the whole thing.


---


In the end, it was always about the war. About ensuring victory for our people, even when my father had a few minutes left to live. "We'll try," I choked out, barely able to force the words through my tightened throat.

"You will." Wakka smiled, just a little, a sight so rare that I'd forgotten what it looked like. At least I got to see it one last time. "I was wrong about you, girl. You're a perfect Warrior."

"The triplets will be too," Briyant murmured, sliding his hand off the wound, but still holding on to Wakka. "I'll finish what you started. I promise you."

Wakka nodded, eyes drifting closed. There was nothing more we could do for him, not with how much blood was pooling on the floor around us. "Thank you," he whispered. "Tell Rosaria I love her. That I'm sorry I didn't make it back. Give Salida a kiss for me." HIs voice was getting softer, each breath coming slower.

Wednesday Blog Post: Reinventing Characters

Have you ever written the same character for two different stories? I have a few I've been playing with for a few years; I consider them my favorites. Every time I try to write something new for them, I find myself constantly going back to their original storyline, trying to fit the pieces together and figure out where to go next.

Instead of rewriting everything, I take the same personality and tweak it based on reactions to the new backstory. For example, I have a character named Zach, who can be cocky and standoffish, but is a good guy deep down. He's gone through a few different versions:

Version 1: Mom dies in childbirth.
Result: Zach is cocky, trying to impress his father in an attempt to prove his worth. As a result, he doesn't have that great of a relationship with his father.

Version 2: Mom dies in childbirth; Dad dies in a fire.
Result: Poor, poor Zach. His original personality falls by the wayside and he turns to alcohol and depression to get to the next day. Eventually he figures out how to put his life back together.

Version 3: Everyone lives! (I'll admit, I felt bad for him after Version 2.)
Result: Cocky, competitive - but very protective of his family. This is probably my favorite version.

I like creating backstories, reasons for why these people do what they do. I think it's the reason why my novel currently feels flat; I haven't given these characters enough motivation. Perhaps that will be my goal in the next few weeks; even if I never use the info, it still won't be time wasted.

Perhaps this is another writing prompt waiting to happen.

Monday Writing Prompt: Apartments and Roommates

To mirror some of what's going on in my personal life, this week's writing prompt is apartments and roommates. Everyone's done it at some point or another, whether in college or looking for that first place out in the real world: living with other people. Sometimes things end up great - I still keep in touch with my very first roommate, Alecia, from my freshman year of college. Other times, the university makes the biggest mistake ever and you quickly find somewhere else to live.

Put your characters in this same situation. Maybe they're just moving into a new place, meeting their roommates for the same time; maybe they're working through a situation with the people they're already living with. There's something to be said for putting strangers in a small space and letting them react off each other.

I hope my own experiences turn out better than the drama I could imagine for my characters. I'll give this one a try and let you know how everything goes on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for September 11, 2009

My fears were for nothing - I have something to show for this week's prompt! Granted, it was not written quite the way I had expected; I left my writing prompt book and journal at my boyfriend's house yesterday, and filled in with my kickaround notebook. For anyone who knows me, and how OCD I can be about routines and schedules, this kind of freaked me out this morning. But, never fear - I still managed to write something, even if it's not in the right notebook.

The prompt I used was, "Take two years and call me when you're better," from the Fall Out Boy song "The Carpal Tunnel of Love." This may become a short story all on its own, though I already came up with a revision idea halfway through this prompt.


---


That was how she found herself on the same stretch of highway she'd driven all through college, going to visit him while he was at school. Every couple had certain places they'd visited together, that meant something special to them. She'd visit one of these, convince herself that she was going to have closure once this was all through.

Maybe someday he'd talke to her again. Just once, like they did before they dated, discussing the previous night's episode of Lost and what their theories for the season were. Or talk about the latest video games or funny videos on YouTube. Anything. As long as she got the boy she once knew back.

She could name all the exits on this highway in her sleep, she'd driven it so much while they were in college. Here she'd established herself as a fixture among his friends, in her own right, not just because she was his girlfriend. But that, too, was over. College ends, and everyone drifts away, even the people you never thought you'd never lose touch with.

It was like high school, only harder. After high school, there was college to look forward to, the promise of a new beginning and the adventures that went along with it. Now every day was just work, coming home to an empty apartment and wondering what the hell she'd done with her life.

She'd walked away from most of it.

Had she made a mistake?

Wednesday Blog Post: "Real Life" and Writing

Wrting has always been a pasttime I have considered "fun." I don't need to get paid to do what I do, though it would be nice; I write because I have all these ideas in my head and it's what I like to do.

This week, though, it's been hard. Though I'm still doing my writing practice every day, it doesn't seem like I'm getting anything productive out of it. No flashes of insight, no moments of, "I have to keep writing." I put words down on the page for 20 minutes and then I close the notebook, get up and do something else. It's become a chore, and I'm really sad to say that.

I have a lot of things going on in my life right now, and I'm sure that's contributing to the current lack of inspiration I feel. I can't quite call it writer's block, since the ideas are there, it's that I'm unwilling to work on them. I've spent the last couple of months working on bits and pieces of the Imperial Story; maybe it's time to try something new for a while. At this rate, it couldn't hurt, and Andros and Anitra will still be there when I get back to them.

I think my biggest fear is that the drive, the inspiration won't come back. But I haven't given up, not by a long shot. I'll just spend every day in front of my notebook, even if it's only for 20 minutes, and see what words pour out of me.

Monday Writing Prompt: Fall Out Boy

If you've been following this blog at all, you know I'm a big fan of song lyrics as prompts. My favorite bands are the ones that acutally say something in their lyrics; while the music may be catchy, it's the words that stick with me when the song is over.

Fall Out Boy is probably my second favorite band, as I lump Jack's Mannequin and Something Corporate together under the heading, "Andrew McMahon is amazing." FOB's lyrics always manage to catch me off guard in a good away, the kind I find myself quoting all the time. Infinity on High is, in my opinion, their best album, an experiment for the band and yet still maintains their signature sound. Here are just a few of my favorites:

- Take two years and call me when you're better. ("The Carpal Tunnel of Love")
- I read about the afterlife but I never really lived. ("Saturday")
- I'd promise you anything for another shot at life. ("Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes")
- The kid was alright, but it went to his head. ("Fame > Infamy")
- He tastes like you, only sweeter. ("Thnks Fr Th Mmrs")
- The best part of "believe" is the lie. ("Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year")

By now, you all know the drill. Pick a lyric and see where it takes you, and I'll do the same. I have every intention of getting to this prompt, but we'll see - my birthday is Thursday and I don't have an extravagant plans, but I will be doing something. With any luck, I'll have something to show on Friday.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for September 4, 2009

HEY LOOK YOU GUYS, I ACTUALLY WROTE THIS WEEK!

...Ahem. I did go back to the Andrew McMahon lyric prompts, though I ended up picking one not on the list I had posted before. It's still unfinished, but I wanted to get a snippet up before I forgot about it. The lyrics I used as inspiration came from Jack's Mannequin's "Bloodshot":

He sits in his basement from midnight 'til four
Painting pictures that nobody sees
From his days in the war
Canvases bathed in bright red
He heats up the shower,
He paces the hall
He'll scrub for an hour or more but he won't get it all
The paint in his fingernail beds...

Let me know what you think!


---


He'd known this was coming for a few days, but he didn't think Renee would actually pack it up and send it to him right away. Quentin would have much rather just picked it up the next time he went back to Kennebunkport, whenever that turned out to be. It was easier to deal with Kevin's death when every reminder wasn't constantly staring him in the face.

Thank god Renee also shipped him a case of beer with the model ship. Shipyard IPA, a local Maine brew and Quentin's favorite. He cracked open a bottle and took a long pull, staring at the miniature ship inside the bottle.

Model building and boating had been Kevin's big interests. He had them tucked in places all around the house he lived in, and every year he built one for their father at Christmas. Their parents kept them on display in the Drawing Room, a testimony to their favorite son's accomplishments. Once Quentin moved to his mini-apartment above the garage, he finally had a reason not to see his parents' favoritism rubbed in his face every single day.

He painted something for his father, once. A scene of the marina, like the one Quentin had planned to have tattooed on his back. Joshua James had given him that fake half-smile, patted his hair, and put the painting into storage. Never displayed it, like they did with Kevin's model boats.

Wednesday Blog Post: In and Outs of Sci-Fi Writing

In preparation for NaNoWriMo in a couple months, where I may be tackling the first draft of the first part of the Imperial Story, I've started reading How to Write Science Fiction & Fantasy by Orson Scott Card. While I have a ton of writing books, this is the only one I've found that was genre-specific and written by an author I've actually heard of. I'd like to say I've read every book in existence, but that's not the case.

Card brings up an interesting point, in the beginning of the book. Science fiction writers, he says, are always going to be science fiction writers, pegged by the industry as it were. While there's lots of freedom to work within the genre, if an author writes, say, a nonfiction book, it's not placed with his other sci-fi works and it makes it much easier for readers not to find the latest work and therefore, not sell as well.

This is a thought that hadn't occurred to me. The Imperial Story is my first attempt at actually writing sci-fi, though I've been reading it for years, since I was a kid. My attempts at scenes in writing practice have been somewhat successful, but I've mainly been concentrating on getting the characters down and figuring out what voice to use to tell the story; the details of the world have a long way to go. I'm not sure everything makes sense on the page as well as it does in my head. But that's what drafting and practice is for; nothing's set in stone, not by a long shot.

But is this a genre I want to stick with for my entire career? If it ends up being of publishable quality, it'll be something to think about. And I'll have to keep it mind as I write, to make this the best work I can. Either way, I see it as a challenge, and I don't want to back down from it.

We'll see how I feel once the drafting process is complete, and how successful I feel the story is. And if it makes sense to anyone else, readers who haven't been listening to me babble on and on for months now.

Monday Writing Prompt: Free For All

Every week I post a link to all of my writing prompts I've posted in the past. I'm not sure if anyone has ever looked at the link, but I have prompts dating back to the end of May, some really good ones, some even I couldn't find inspiration in.

As this past week as me completely friend from work and life in general, this week's prompt is a free for all. You guessed it, any old prompt is game. Maybe something will speak to you now that hadn't before. You never know until you look. All the prompts can be found here:

All Monday Writing Prompts

I've got my eye on those Andrew McMahon lyrics I missed, a few weeks back. This is the week of second chances as far as prompts are concerned, and I hope I don't waste it by Friday.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for August 28, 2009

Okay, so I didn't do as much work as I intended for this week's prompt, but I did do some, so I consider it an accomplishment!

I went back and read a story I'd started in high school, titled Generations. Great title, I know, but I was 17, so give me a break. The basic plot of the story was that a son moves back in with his aging father after his mother's death, bringing his 17-year-old daughter with him. Together the three of them learn what it is that they're supposed to get out of this life, overcoming their personal struggles. I still like the general idea of the story, if I could ever get it out on paper. Rereading it, though, I was surprised at how many adverbs I used, especially attached to dialogue tags. Everything was "Riley injected quickly," "Brad said sullenly," etc. For me, most of this was remembering what I liked about the plot, though I could tell my writing had improved in the years since I'd written it.

So, taking a stab in the dark, I attempted to rewrite the beginning. This isn't perfect by any means, and in revision I probably wouldn't keep it, but it's a start.


---


At 37, I did not expect to be attending my mother's funeral.

It was always a possibility. Of course, someday your parents pass on and you're sad and you miss them. But you're never ready for it.

And I didn't expect it to come so soon after losing my wife. Becky. My high school sweetheart, the mother of my daughter, Riley.

Mom loved her to pieces. She'd held my hand throughout the funeral, Riley tucked against my other side. She'd cried with me, when i sat there in the emergency room and had the doctor tell me there was nothing more he could do.

Now Mom was gone, too.

I glanced over at the passenger seat. Riley stared out the window, hands playing with her charm bracelet. She'd grown so much in the year since Becky died. I could see traces of the gawky girl with too-long legs, but that was fading more and more by the day. Some days it seemed like I didn't know this woman she'd become, even though I saw her every day.

Wednesday Blog Post: Preparing for NaNoWriMo... Maybe

Every year, I say I'm going to do NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month. The idea is that, during the month of November, you write a 50,000 word novel from start to finish. The goal is both daunting and entirely doable at the same time. It breaks down to roughly 1,600 words a day, which isn't a hard goal to reach. I did a modified version of NaNoWriMo to finish And You Tell Me I Am Home, and while I didn't write 50,000 words, I did keep up the pace until I was finished. It took me a month and a half, but I finally - finally! - had a draft finished.

Thing is, NaNoWriMo is always in November, which is a hard month for me. Not only because of the holiday and family obligations everyone has, but because I work in a mall and everything goes insane from Black Friday on. The last thing I want to face after a long day of angry Christmas shoppers (don't kid yourself, you are all angry) is a blank computer screen and a 1,600 word deadline.

Right now I'm thinking of ways I could make this manageable. Reorganzing my writing to routine to accomodate the beast, and then I could return to regularly scheduled programming once November ends. These are my ideas so far:

1) Writing practice. Instead of writing about a random prompt for 20 minutes, that time could be spent working on the novel. This way I'm assuring that for at least 20 minutes every day, something gets written.
2) Modify this blog. If I shift down to a post a week and maybe an excerpt if the writing goes well, I can turn that time into writing. I would then return to the regular posting schedule at the end of the month.

When all is said and done, it's not a difficult schedule to keep. It's just a lot of pressure for those 30 days, trying to get everything done in time. Who knows if I'll even be able to finish? At some point I feel I need to make the attempt.

And I still have two months to plan for the beast.

Monday Writing Prompt: Revisions

One of the best parts of being a writer is going back and rereading old stuff you've written. Maybe it's a few weeks old, a few months, maybe even yeaars. I'm always surprised by it - by what doesn't work, and by what really, really does. I recognize it as my writing, though it feels at times like someone else wrote it.

Take a moment this week to go back and read something you've previously written. Take note of the bad lines, yes, but aslo the really good ones - you should be proud of these. Instead of tossing the entire draft out, save the lines you really like and try to rewrite the scene from them.

The idea here is not to tackle a full revision - though if it works for you, more power to you - but to see if your old writing can spark anything new. Maybe it will take you in an entirely different direction, a new twist on the same story.

I have every intention of working this prompt this week. Cross your fingers, and by Friday I should have something to show you!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for August 21, 2009

I fail as a writer.

For the record, I love this week's prompt. Absolutely adore it. The lyric ones are always my favorite and this one was centered on my favorite artist. But time slipped away this week, and I have nothing to show for the days that passed between today and Monday, when I put the prompt up. I started looking for an apartment, scouring the Internet and Craigslist, seeing a few impromtu places. (Neither of which are going to work out, I'm fairly certain.)

And, as such, it's now Friday and I have nothing to show for it. This just adds to my already pretty rotten mood today. I do have another snippet from my writing practice, a piece of a new scene from the Imperial Story - that much, at least, I managed to get done. No comments expected on this piece; it's mostly up to prove that, yes, I did do some writing this week.

I will come back to this prompt. When I do, I'll let you know.


---


We could just see the figure approaching us now, dressed in fatigues, blending in with the woods surrounding him. It was hard to tell for sure, but this wasn't an Imperial uniform I'd ever seen. "We have you in our sights," Briyant called into the woods. "Put down your weapon and I give you my word this will go over peacefully."

"Like hell I'm putting down my weapon, just as soon as you lower yours." There was something familiar in that voice, like I'd heard it before, but I couldn't put my finger on where. "That's my vehicle you all happen to be poaching and my friend who's still in it, so don't think I won't shoot you if I feel like it."

"No one's poaching anything. We're travellers. Came across the wreckage, looking for survivors." Briyant's voice was steady, but I still reached for my own gun, preparing myself for what might happen if this ended badly. "Come out, and we can discuss this like men."

"Discuss?" The man laughed, taking another couple steps forward. I could see he was definitely wounded now; one leg was twisted behind him, dragging along the forest floor. How he managed to walk at all was nothing short of a miracle. "You'll kill me, loot the vehicle, burn the remains. I've seen it a dozen times. You don't scare me."

Wednesday Blog Post: New Notebooks

I'll be the first to admit, I'm a creature of habit. I buy new things all the time - pens, journals, CDs, you name it - and I still go back to what I know works. I'm not sure if it's a comfort thing or what, but when I try something new, I freak out a little.

I'm doing this with notebooks, too.

In the last week and a half or so, I've changed two of my everyday notebooks: my kickaround notebook, which I discussed in last week's post, as well as my writing practice journal. Filling two notebooks within such a short span of each other is thrilling, no doubt. As is writing on the first blank page of a new journal - so full of promise and wonder and all that jazz people talk about but you never really believe until it actually happens.

My new kickaround notebook is a hardcover journal, with grid lines instead of lined paper. I'm adjusting to the grids better than I thought; it's helping me make sure my left margin stays in a straight line. What's bugging me is that I can't fold the cover back, like I could with my last notebook, which had a spiral for the spine. I'm used to folding it up and propping it up wherever I can to write, especially at work where there really isn't such thing as "desk space." I'm finding myself clearing away people's drinks just so I can get some room to set the journal down. I've had a few days, but it's still weird to me.

For the writing practice notebook, it's a big hardcover notebook from Borders, one of the basic black ones that's perpetually on clearance though they've had tons of them for years and years and years. This is the first time I've found something to even consider using that notebook for, so that's good. It's just - plain, for my tastes. I'm not sure how the spine is going to hold up when I'm filling page after page.

Maybe it's just me, being resistant to change. I don't want to let the slightest little thing ruin my writing experience, because I'm sure those thoughts are all in my head. We'll see how it goes over the course of the next few weeks.

Monday Writing Prompt: Andrew McMahon 1

Writing up a response on Andrew McMahon last week reminded me of a prompt idea I had a while back: Jack's Mannequin and Something Corporate lyrics. I'm biased, I'll admit; I happen to think he's a brilliant songwriter and all around great guy. The lyric prompts are one of my favorites too, mostly because I never know what I'm going to get out of them. The hardest part this week was choosing which lyrics to include!

Here are the lyrics:

- I'm gonna hang the sun above your bed and soak your hair in bleach. (Jack's Mannequin, "Miss California" - not sure why I love this one so much, but it strikes me every time)
- My life has become a boring pop song and everyone is singing along. (Jack's Mannequin, "I'm Ready")
- Without you I don't sleep, just dream. (Jack's Mannequin, "Last Straw")
- You live the life you're given when the storm's outside. (Something Corporate, "Watch the Sky")
- She's praying to Jesus, she's pulling the trigger. (Something Corporate, "Me and the Moon")
- Thought I was lost, but I was stranded. (Something Corporate, "Fall")

Take these and run with it - see where they take you. My favorite part is when a prompt manages to surprise me, as I hope it does with you. I hope to have something Andrew-worthy by the time Friday rolls around.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for August 14, 2009

I had originally intended to write something new for this week, but the words proved harder to find. I tried to write about Star Wars, but found that the words reminded me of the essay I wrote back in high school. While they still remain as true today as they did when I was 17, as a writer, I wanted to go with something new and fresh.

So, instead, I give you this little snippet from my writing practice, about musician Andrew McMahon. He's the frontman of Jack's Mannequin and Something Corporate, and aside from being a huge fan of his music, he's a really nice guy and I take a lot of inspiration from him. He fought leukemia and won. His lyrics are profound and amazing and I wish I could write half as well as he could.

Fangirling aside, he's one of my heroes. Here's some of the reasons why.


---


If I am to name one man as my hero, it would be Andrew McMahon, not only for his music but for who he is and what he's done. He's three years older than me, 26, same age as Josh. When his music comes out, it speaks of things going on in my life now, even though he lives in an entirely different world than me. And he's a cancer survivor, diagnosed with leukemia the day he finished recording Jack's Mannequin's debut album, Everything in Transit. He's a fighter and an artist, an activist, and everything in between.

Everything in Transit, is, simply put, the album that describes my life. Granted, it speaks of drug use and other moments that don't apply to me, but the overall feeling of the album does. On one level it's a breakup album, detailing how he processed losing a long-term relationship. On another it's a transition record, adapting to the end of one phase in life and learning to start another.

That's the aspect of the record that still speaks to me, even though it came out four years ago this summer. I hear different things now than when it first came out. "I'm Ready" is a good example. Thinking it was a good song but not his best, I usually bypassed it in favor of more melodic tracks like "Bruised" and "Dark Blue."

"I'm Ready" speaks of a life at a crossroads, not knowing where to go next. And that is exactly where I am right now, and I'm not sure when I realized it. "My life is a boring pop song and everyone is singing along" became an anthem for me. I was determined to believe that I am ready for this next phase of life, that I can take this next step. Now, when that song comes on my iPod, I never turn it off.

Wednesday Blog Post: Replacing Notebooks

As I write the draft of this blog post, this is the last entry I will be writing in this "kickaround notebook." It's the Paperchase one I covered in stickers from works and I'm sure it's seen better days; I may have to tape the cover back in place to preserve it once I'm finished. It took me a little over a year to finish this one - the first page is dated May 8, 2008.

It's still satisfying to fill a notebook, at least for me. I like being able to riffle throughthe pages and see all the colors (I used a different one every day, pens are my weakness), the half-finished scenes, my notes to myself. This notebook in particular has bits and pieces of my novel, And You Tell Me I Am Home, as well as snippets from the Imperial Story. I'm quite proud to retire this baby, giving it a good home on my shelf.



This means, of course, that I had to pick out a new journal to use as my "kickaround" notebook. Rather than buy a new one, I raided the collection in my cedar chest - at some points, it's better than going to Staples. I found three nice leather bound journals, gifts from various people (my Uncle Joe, my Aunt debbie, and ex-boyfriend Caz). One was a gift from Mrs. Keane, my senior year of high school - the cover is emblazoned with the words, "We are the hero of our own story." These are the journals I want to keep in perfect condition, not let get bounced around when I carry them everywhere. It was good to remember than I had these journals waiting for me, waiting to hold the perfect project.

I ended up choosing a hardcover journal, nothing fancy, but the paper inside is of a good weight and it will hold up to a lot of abuse. This notebook lasted me 15 months; the next one should be able to do the same. I'm excited to write on that very first page, to fill another notebook with my thoughts and words. It's been too long since I've started something new.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way - this elation, this thrill. It's one of my perks to being a writer, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.

Monday Writing Prompt: Your Heroes

I finished reading Julie & Julia over the weekend. It's a quick, funny, fascinating read about two of my favorite subjects: cooking and online blogs. My copy is dog-eared in all sorts of places for quotes I like and ones I want to turn into away messages on AIM. This is definitely a book I'd recommend for a quick, summer read.

Julie Powell's admission of how much Julia Child changed her life got me thinking about who my own heroes were. In Julie's case, it's not even someone she'd ever met, but someone who had an impact over time, over the course of her project - trying to cook her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

I have several heroes, people I respect, who have moved me. Andrew McMahon from Jack's Mannequin is a big one, but there are others - Mrs. Keane, my English teacher in high school; Tim Parrish and Robin Troy, my creative writing professors from college. People have an impact, and most of us don't even realize it. This week, write a few words about one of your heroes, big or small. This is not necessarily something for anyone else to read, though you can share it if you wish, but for you, to realize what these people mean in your life.

By writing about people, I ensure, once and for all, that I never forget about them. I always have that piece to look back on, to capture how I felt in that moment in time. Your pieces don't need to be very long, as long as they're honest. I'll let you know how my attempt went on Friday.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for August 7, 2009

Okay, so first off: Character profiles turned out both good and bad. The good news, I did finish one complete profile - for a character completely outside of any story I'm currently working on. The bad news, Zeke's profile is started, but not finished. I'll admit, it's actually rather frustrating, the fact that the novel is no longer talking to me like it used to. I think it's been too long since I've worked on it consistently, not in fits and starts. Maybe it's time for another read through, just to refresh myself on the material. We'll see.

For now, I'm just going to post a bit from what I did get finished: descriptions of Zeke's appearance and personality. More so for my reference than anyone else, but I still find it interesting to get an in-depth look at a character, especially as a writer.



CHARACTER NAME: Zeke McMahon

Physical Description: Zeke specializes in laid back. He's most at home in jeans and a t-shirt, just the right cut for his lean frame and you can be sure all his clothes are neat and clean. His hair is thick and dark; he always kept it long, past his shoulders. HIs mother, a hairstylist, finally convinced him to get a more modern cut. It now frames his face in shaggy layers, accenting his square jaw nicely. He does get a lot of glances his way for his looks, but Zeke is mostly oblivious to it.

Personality: Zeke straddles the fence between being completely spontaneous and erring on the side of caution. He's a "go with the flow" kind of guy, and he only worries about the big things - the state of his relationship with Emma he considers to be a big thing. Zeke tries to do the right thing by his friends, but he's always up for a little adventure. When it comes to people he doesn't know well or is just meeting for the first time, he tends to form an opinion quickly, and it takes a lot to change this first impression. He's also convinced that he's right, in most situations, so when it comes to arguing, he always wants to be the one who wins.

Wednesday Blog Post: On Building Characters

Characterization is one of those writing concepts I understand in theory, but have a hard time putting into practice. While I have no trouble coming up with backstory, plot and complications, I struggle with getting that out on paper. Maybe every writer faces the same problem, getting the words down that they hear in their head. I find that I reveal character through dialogue, and the way they interact with each other. I often skate a fine line between dialogue and prose; I don't think I balance the two well.

I didn't realize the impact characterization had on my overall writing until working on revising And You Tell Me I Am Home. One of the initial critiques I received was that the first half moved too slow, and I figured it was due to a lack of tension between the characters. Once Zeke and Emma start fighting, the scenes started to pile up, get interesting, even for me as I wrote them. Once of the conflicts I'm working on developing is between Zeke and Jay, Emma's ex, and I decided to use character sketches to help.

Jay, since I modelled him after one of my best friends, was easy to write. Zeke, on the other hand, I really struggled with. Suddenly the traits that seemed good enough when writing the first draft - Zeke likes music, he plays guitar, parents are divorced - were nowhere near as complicated as I needed them to be. He was risking becoming a stereotype, and I couldn't let that happen.

In the next draft of the story, I have some ideas of how to broaden Zeke's (along with the others) characterization. I've considered better conflicts, flashbacks, letting the reader in on more of the backstory behind each of these people. As an author, it's my responsibility to make sure each of these characters become real on the page - the readers, as well as myself, deserve that much. I'm sure it will take me several drafts to get it right, but that's okay. I'm learning. And that's a process any writer should always be a part of.

Monday Writing Prompt: Character Sketches

Everyone has a different approach as far as building their characters is concerned. I've mapped out and brainstormed characteristics; I've written scenes and been surprised at what I've found. But one of my favorite ways to learn a character is to make a bio sheet of him or her.

Applications for online, journal-based RPGs are a great example of this kind of biography. When writing, you're forced to think about different aspects of your character, not that just if he has blond or brown hair and likes to play guitar. A well-rounded character has likes and dislikes, weaknesses and strengths, just like a real person does. No one is perfect, and your characters should represent tha as well. After all, the too-perfect characters become stereotypes, at the very least, and they no longer surprise you during the writing.

Your challenge this week is to write one such character bio, either for a new character or one you're struggling with. (I may choose Zeke from And You Tell Me I Am Home, because I don't feel like I know him as well as I should, one draft into the story.) I've provided a version to use here, but feel free to add or subtract categories as needed for your character.


Name:
Nicknames (if any):
Age/Date of Birth:
Physical Description: - Things like height, weight, eye and hair color, what clothing they wear, etc.
Personality: - More than just likes and dislikes; is he friendly, outgoing, shy, etc.?
Personal History: - Everyone has a story, including your characters. What happened to get them to this point?
Family Members/Relatives/Closest Friends: - Flesh out the character's relationships, the important ones at least, even if you never see them in the story.
Philosophy on Life: - Is the glass half full or half empty? Why?
Strengths and Weaknesses: - Everyone has both; remember to keep them in balance. Not everyone can be Superman, after all. But no one is completely bad, either.


The idea here is to flesh out a character, more than you may see in the story itself. It may give you some new ideas to add when a story is stuck in a rut. Remember, just because the reader may not know why a character does something, doesn't mean that you, as the writer, don't need to know it.

If anyone tries this and finds it helpful, please let me know! I'm always curious to see what these prompts produce for other writers. I'll let you know how my character profile went on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for July 31, 2009

This week's writing went a bit easier than most, because I wasn't trying to fit it in with everything else I had going on. Instead I just sat outside on my day off, on my front porch, propped my feet up and wrote. The sun was shining, the bugs were leaving me alone (for the most part) and I got a scene done.

For the Imperial Story, as most of my writing has been lately, and using the prompt from the Fray: I'm losing you and it's effortless. Told from Anitra's point of view, set after her and Briyant rescue the Lambazzias.


---


[Rosaria] paused for a moment. "There's still room for you to travel with us, you know. Wakka will never ask for it, but he could use Briyant's help. Your help."

Concentrating on the bedsheets, I found it hard to meet my mother's eyes. "Our place is here, in the Underground. You know that."

She took the top blanket from me, spreading it on top. Her bed always looked crisp and sharp, from the years she had spent working in our village's hospital. "It wouldn't be permanent. Just one mission, like we used to."

I wasn't the only one trying to hang onto the past. As much as I wanted my family to come back together, the way we were before the Great Raid, it was a fool's dream. The kids we were then were only shadows of the adults we'd become. "Briyant and Wakka will never work together again," I reminded her softly, tugging the pillowcase onto the pillow. "Both are too stubborn, wanting to lead."

"I'm sure they can find a way to work something out."

"Not for Briyant." I gave Rosaria a small, sad smile. In her heart I knew she'd done what she thought was best, caring for the lost little boy she'd found. It wasn't her fault, what Wakka had raised him to become. "He's handling this better than I thought he would - at first, he only agreed to the rescue because I wanted to do it. He's accepted it, now."

"He's still that angry with us?" With the bed made, there was nothing left to do with her hands, and Rosaria sank into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "I only tried to do what I thought was right. To give him a home."

Sitting next to her, I took Rosaria's hands in both of my own. It killed me to see her like this, the woman who had always been our beacon of hope and light when the world seemed like it was coming to an end. "He doesn't blame you, just Dad, mostly. Because you never told him the truth about who he was, and how we discovered what happened. In one night, he learned his entire life had been a lie. That's not something you just get over."

Her eyes glanced up to mine. "And what about you? You were angry enough with us to leave too?"

"It wasn't like that." Not for the first time, the guilt welled in my stomach, but I forced it down. "He wouldn't stay. And I couldn't be without him again." I didn't regret my choice, but that didn't make it any easier to live with.

Wednesday Blog Post: Writing Times

Every writing book I've read has said it - every writer has a certain time of day when writing works best for them. Some like to be up at the crack of dawn, others up until the wee hours of the night. My own writing schedule tends to be sporatic, writing during my breaks at work or between classes when I was in college. Then, I decided I was going to do daily writing practice, 20 minutes a day, every day.

I've been following my writing practice routine for over two months; it's how I've been creating scenes for the Imperial Story, by answering prompts. I work in retail, with open availability, so my schedule varies from week to week. What I've found is that I'm happier and more inclined to show up at the page when I write at the beginning of my day, rather than waiting until after work. I manage this most days, since I work a lot of nights, but opens are brutal. It's hard enough to get myself to work on time, much less factor in writing practice too, which means it usually gets left until the day is done. The excuses not to write come to mind so much easier: I'm tired. I'll do it after dinner. I just want to check my email first.

But, at the end of the day, I still drag myself to the desk, promising myself that it's only 20 minutes and I can shut the notebook the moment timer on my phone goes off. Or that I can have ice cream or a cup of tea once I'm finished. It's straight-up bribery, but it works. I've shown up and done the work, every day, since May 15. And I'm proud of that.

They say you can't schedule creativity, that it just happens. But I do know it doesn't happen if you don't take the time and put in the effort to make something beautiful. For me, that means figuring another 20 minutes into my morning routine, when I'm still energized from coffee, using writing to help start my day.

Monday Writing Prompt: Song Lyrics 2

I'm going back to the tried and true standard of my writing prompts: song lyrics. For some reason, these always seem to spark something really interesting in me. I know it's time to return to this type of prompt when lyrics from different songs stick wtih me for more than a day or two. Without further ado, this week's lyrics are:

- I'm losing you and it's effortless. (The Fray, "Over My Head (Cable Car)" - A Day to Remember does an awesome cover of this)
- I'm trying to let you hear me as I am. (Sara Bareilles, "Love Song")
- Truth be told, I miss you. And truth be told, I'm lying. (The All-American Rejects, "Gives You Hell")
- Our hope is all we bring back in our jars, empty though they seem to be. (Treaty of Paris, "Why Am I Still Broke?" - you should be listening to this band)
- I ache to remember all the violent, sweet, perfect words that you said. (Matt Nathanson, "Come On Get Higher")

No Jack's Mannequin or Something Corporate this time around, but don't worry - I'll probably have a week with only their lyrics sometime soon.

The task this week is to take one of these prompts and see if a scene comes out of it. The last time I did this, I eneded up with the first scene I wrote for the Imperial Story. You don't have to come up with something epic, but remember, all things are possible.

I'm not sure where these lyrics are going to take me, but I'll let you know how everything goes on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for July 24, 2009

So. I tried this week's prompt. Twice, as a matter of fact. I had one scene in my head - Briyant and Anitra stuck in an Imperial city for a few days with nothing to do but wait, and I wanted to send them to a "movie theater" of some kind. This idea didn't work, I think because I was trying too hard to force it to.

This leaves me without a response to this week's prompt, however, but that's okay. I'll put up a snippet from writing practice instead. I've been focusing a lot on the "Andros' return" scenes this week, taking place after this snippet from a while back. Told from Anitra's point of view, taking a friend's advice and it seems to be working out so far.


---


Gingerly, I laid Andros down on the bed, my bed. I hadn't actually slept here in weeks, so he could use it for however long his recovery turned out to be. Behind me, Rosaria carried the tray full of medical supplies, setting it down on the small table by the bed. "You said he talked to you? On the boat?"

"Yes. Whatever happened damaged his vocal chords." I could still remember the rasp in his voice, a shadow of what he used to sound like. I'd fix his voice, his face, his eyes, everything. I had to. He was my Warrior. "He's awake, though, and responding."

Andros reached out, hand hitting my arm first, then working upward, until it rested against the side of my neck. It was warm and rough, the way I remembered him. "You can hear us still?" I whispered, since my face was close to his.

His hand stroked my cheek once. Yes.

"Is anything else hurt? Anywhere I should check?"

Two strokes. No. Just the face, then.

"We're going to have to sedate you, in order to get the mask off." I paused, closing my eyes and wishing, not for the first time, that I'd been there when this happened. "There's a chance that there could be more damage if it wasn't used properly. The removal will hurt."

He hesitated. Andros, I knew, didn't want pain medication of any kind. "A Warrior's duty is to fight through it," he explained to me once, "to be stronger than the pain, to carry out the mission. You'll have to force the meds down my throat." This was an exception. I knew already that we didn't have the equipment here to treat a wound this bad, especially a burn. And he wouldn't want to be awake when I removed the mask.

"Please, Andros," I whispered. "For me. So I can help you."

Finally, he stroked my cheek again. Andros would take the medicine. "Thank you," I breathed, turning to Rosaria, holding out my hand. "Is it ready?"

Wednesday Blog Post: The Index Card Experiment

I'm trying something new, in regards to outlining the Imperial Story. I've been writing bits and pieces of scenes in my daily writing practice, sometimes inspired by that day's prompt, sometimes continuing the scene from the day before, sometimes I can't get them out of my head. Timeline-wise, these scenes run from the very beginning to the beginning of the end. To try and organize what I've already written, I'm writing out each scene on index cards.

Each card has the basic details of the scene: who's in it, where it takes place, what's going on, who's telling the story. I'm finding that, by writing out these skeleton versions, I'm writing a lot about the middle of the story - Andros discovering his identity, the creation of Briyant and Anitra's Underground. I've also written a lot more than I thought I had; I have cards for 20 scenes and I'm not finished going over everything I have on paper. And to my surprise, some of it, down to the individual lines, is work I'm really proud of.

My idea is to lay all these cards out, group them together by events, and see what I have. What scenes have to come first in order for the later ones to make sense? What scenes are missing from what I've already written? What I'm looking to find is the overall arch of the story and start planning it from start to finish. And, seeing how little I've been wanting to write the actual beginning of the story, maybe that means I'm starting in the wrong place. Writing books recommend starting in the thick of things, so perhaps that's advice I'll take.

I don't know if this is a project to tackle in my daily writing practice and then type up later, or if I devote a couple days a week to it. I do know that I need a structure of some kind before I get anywhere. With my last drafted novel, I used a gigantic mind map to plot out scenes, but for some reason, that doesn't seem to be working with this one.

Has anyone used index cards to help with plotting before? If so, what was your experience? Right now, I'm just entralled to get to spend hours rereading what I've written, wincing at the cliches, but finding the gems too. I'm calling this an "experiment" - we'll see if it creates anything special.

Monday Writing Prompt: Picture Prompt 1

Sometimes, you see something you just need a picture of - a street sign, interesting bird formations, you name it. Since I finally have a phone with a camera in it, these moments no longer pass me by. This picture was one of them:



I took this while walking out of the midnight showing of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince last week. The theater had four midnight showings, all getting out around the same time. This was the first trash can we passed on the way out; the one by the exit was empty, because no one could wait to find another trash can.

I could see a few different ways one could interpret this image and write about it - abundance of trash, the movie theater, the art of building towers out of inanimate objects. The choice is up to you - I just couldn't resist taking the picture.

I'll let you know where my imagination takes me when I post on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for July 17, 2009

Not my best response ever, but not my worst. It was harder to get into my characters' heads on demand than I remembered; I think I've let this project go too long, which I'll have to remedy soon.

A quick side note to my best friend Meg - I'm sure this scene will make you hate Leigh that much more, but I like her. I needed someone to be the antithesis to Emma, all collected and rational and without a spontaneous bone in her body, and Leigh fits that to a tee.

Timeline wise, this takes place after the end of the novel, so minor spoilers, I suppose? Just assume the novel has a happy ending, and you should be all set. This is a snippet, as I have most of the scene finished, but not entirely. Email me if you want to read the rest.


---


Emma managed a smile at her new boyfriend as she climbed into the front passenger seat. Boyfriend - it was still something she was getting used to, looking over at Zeke and knowing he was hers and she was his, no questions asked. Novels talked about rainbows and butterflies and warm fuzzy feelings, and while Emma didn't feel any of those, she knew this was right. They were where they belonged.

And, if the road trip turned disasterous, her AAA card was tucked in her wallet. She even made sure to double check the night before. No side of the highway for Emma Jean Wilson, no sir.

Zeke turned on the car, the radio station blaring loud, from when he'd been the car last. Emma reached out and turned down the volume, rubbing at one of her ears. "No wonder why you're going deaf," she murmured, shaking her head.

He just shrugged. "I'm going to call it an occupational hazard. Any music suggestions?"

"Something easy for all of us to listen to," Corey suggested. He'd returned from his honeymoon tanned, well rested, and more relaxed than Emma had ever seen him. "Classic rock, maybe."

"Fiona Apple! No, some old No Doubt! I think my iPod's in here somewhere, there's plenty of good stuff on that." Most of Leigh's words were muffled as she was going through her bag, pulling out various items and giving them to Corey as she found them. So far he was holding two pairs of sunglasses, three books, a journal, and a handful of pens.

Zeke looked up at Emma, who just shook her head. "I agree with Corey. Nothing too loud - something for background noise. Classic rock would work."

From behind her bag, Leigh stuck her tongue out, just a spot of pink behind a can of Pringles. "I swear, you wouldn't know what fun was if it came up and smacked you in the face. Come on, Zeke, you agree with me, right?"

"I don't know, Leigh." Throughout the conversation, Zeke had been searching his iPod, scrolling through lists of artists. "My car, so I cast the deciding vote." He set down the music player, AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" starting to play. "Sorry. You know how much I enjoy the rock."

Wednesday Blog Post: On Selecting POV

Point of view has always been a hard decision for me. In my creative nonfiction stories, the choice was obvious. First person works best becuase I'm the one telling the story, based on my own experiences, thoughts and feelings. With fiction, I never know if the character I use is the best one for the story.

I've been working on the "Imperial Story" in my daily writing practice, trying out scenes, sticking with the ideas that work and abandoning the ones that don't. For the most part, I've stuck with Andros' (Briyant's) point of view, as he became the dominant character in the story so far. I'm not sure why I chose him, though - keeping his perspective, in first person, makes me aware of how much he doesn't know about what's going on. A large part of the storyline rests on the knowledge that Andros doesn't know who he really is, but the reader has to know something's not right in the Lambazzia family.

This is the part I'm having trouble with: revealing that information in such a way that doesn't come out of nowhere but doesn't give too much away either. I've tried some scenes from Anitra's point of view, but for some reason, I haven't been able to get into her head; the voice still doesn't sound right to me. Maybe this is something I'll try in the first draft, telling the story from Andros' POV, and switch it in revisions if need be. I still feel like there is so much I don't know about this story, about the world I'm trying to create, so I need to be willing to change as I progress through an actual draft.

I'm curious to see how other writers would handle a similar point of view question. How would you decide to tell the story? I've used third person to switch between characters before - And You Tell Me I Am Home switches between Emma and Zeke - but to me, it doesn't have the same sense of urgency, of immediacy, that first person does. In a novel about a rebellion fighting an empire (cue Star Wars music here), I think that tension is needed.

For now, I'll turn back to my writing books for advice, and see where the story ends up going. I won't know until I actually start writing.

Monday Writing Prompt: Road Trips

Everyone's done it, or at least talked about it: taking off on the quintessential road trip. Windows down, the road stretching in front of you, no destination in mind, just enjoying the sights. I've taken a few of these in the last month and a half or so, including a day trip to New Hampshire last week to see my old college roommate and her fiance. You forget how good it feels to get away, even just for a few hours, until you finally do so.

Give your characters the same freedom. Put them in a car - or a bus, a train, a van, a flying saucer - and let them explore their new environment. Maybe this will breathe some life into a story that currently feels stale, stuck in a rut. Even if they never reach their destination, perhaps you can discover something new and exciting about your characters.

I'm hoping this works for me, as I plan on using this prompt with my novel, And You Tell Me I Am Home. I've been having trouble getting through the first round of revisions, so new ideas are always appreciated. If the scene goes well, perhaps it'll give me the encouragement I need to blow through those last 50 pages or so and get the draft out to my readers - so the real revision can begin.

Let me know if this works out for you, either by dropping a comment here or sending an email. With any luck, Emma, Zeke, Leigh and Jay will have surprised me by Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Prompt Response for July 10, 2009

So this week didn't go exactly as planned, writing wise. While I did manage to get my writing practice and my blog post done, i found myself without a lot of time to work on the prompt for this week. I still love the idea for it - "Sunday night crappy hour," it's a great line - but I found it hard to keep an idea for it in my head. It didn't inspire me like I'd hoped, but that's okay - some prompts work better than others, and at different times.

For now I'm going to hold on to this week's prompt and post a snippet from my writing practice instead. I've been working a lot on different parts of the "Imperial story," and I think I may be at a point where I can start plotting out scenes and seeing what goes with which part of the story. It looks like this will need to be a full, written epic after all.

Thoughts, comments - they're always appreciated. This is unedited, so whenever these scenes become part of the overall story, I expect a lot of changes to be made.


---


...Wakka looked over at me again and behind him, I watched Rosaria flinch and look away. "You never answered my question earlier. Who are you, and why don't you talk?"

"And where's Andros?" Rosaria's voice was soft, pleading. Of all the Lambazzias, it was hardest to be mad at her. She'd always acted from the heart, doing what she thought was right, like Anitra did. "We know he was with you, when you left us. Is he all right?"

Biting her bottom lip, Anitra shot a glance over at me. "We'll discuss it later," she said. "Dad, you're limping. Our Healers should take a look at it, or Mom can, if you'd prefer-"

This time, instead of me, Wakka grabbed Anitra, holding her by the shoulders as if to shake her. "Answer the question, girl."

I was done. Hoisting Wakka by the shoulders, I threw him to the ground, uncaring if I injured him further. "Her name is Anitra," I snarled behind my helmet, "and you should be able to remember what you named your own daughter."

"Please, there's no need to fight." Rosaria hovered behind me, Anitra taking hold of her, to protect her or to keep her from joining in, I wasn't sure. "He's just trying to understand what's going on."

"Then understand this." Planting a knee in Wakka's chest, hand on his throat, I used my other hand to pry off my helmet, throwing it to the floor. Rosaria gasped as she recognized me, like I knew she would. "Andros Lambazzia is dead. And as far as I'm concerned, the two of you are as well."

Wednesday Blog Post: The Craft of Quoting

One of the hardest journalism classes I ever took - one of my hardest classes period - was Journalism 201 with Professor Harris, Reporting and Writing. While other classes required an essay every once in a while, this was an article a week, 750 words, with revisions due the class after you got your paper back. It was intense - never mind the actual writing and interviewing, but just coming up with story ideas each week stressed me out. On top of tat, Harris assigned us exercises from The Craft of "Quoting," a thin white book he had written and had become an SCSU Journalism Department staple. Even our weekly articles included the patterns, underlined and numbered on the drafts we turned in.

Back then, trying to work the patterns into my articles awas difficult. "I don't want to write like this," I remember thinking. "Who cares if the attribution goes before or after the quote? Who cares if I paraphrase?" Harris cared. And while I'd been baptized in red pen during American Studies, Harris killed pens on our articles. Thank god for rewrites, or else some of us might not have passed.

There was one good thing about having such a regimented schedule of first drafts and rewrites: you're always practicing. And being forced to include quote patterns burns them into your memory. I no longer remember the patterns themselves, but I see them, every time I write dialogue. Writing books often recommend varying your sentence structure to liven up your writing, and I already do that - thanks to JRN 201. I find myself glancing back up every few paragraphs, looking to see how my dialogue is structured and how I should change it up. And I never, ever have two characters - sources - quoted in the same paragraph.

The old adage is true: You never realize how much you've learned until you look back on it, years later. And that is why The Craft of "Quoting" still retains a place on my writing bookshelf.

(If you're interested, Amazon has a listing for the book, though it looks like they're only selling used copies.)

Monday Writing Prompt: A Road Sign

Every day on the way to work, I drive past the local strip club. While I have never gone inside, nor do I plan to, they always have the best messages on their sign - the kind that make you blink, turn around, and read it again.

For example, when my friend Josh came up to visit, Platinum Plus was advertising "Bridget the Midget" and "Foxy Boxing." Josh was so amused, he still mentions them to this day. If they ever come back, I think he may drag me down there, just to see what all the fuss is all about.

This week's writing prompt comes from a sign they had up a few weeks ago. I wish I had taken a picture, just to prove that this is actually what it said:

SUN NIGHT
CRAPPY HOUR 11-1AM

Write about what happens at "Sunday night crappy hour." Put your characters in a very unsavory bar on a bad night and let the scene play out. Better yet, put them in Platinum Plus (now known as PT's Showclub) and see what happens. The sign now reads "happy hour," but I like the previous incarnation better.

Hopefully this inspires you - I, at least, found it pretty amusing. I'll let you know how my work goes on Friday!

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for July 3, 2009

Not my best answer, but not the worst. Cut me some slack this week - today is the first day I'm finally starting to feel better. Next week's will be more extensive, I promise.

The prompt I used, as you'll figure out very early on, is Thriller. Emma and Zeke in this piece are from my novel, And You Tell Me I Am Home.


---


Emma found Zeke alone in his apartment, sitting on his bed, strumming his guitar while Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” played in the background. She’d gotten worried when he didn’t answer her phone calls – granted, she’d just called to say she was on her way over, but it wasn’t like him not to answer when she called.

“Hey.” Leaving her back on the couch, Emma sat next to him, reaching out run a hand over his hair. “Everything okay?”

He blinked, looking over at her. Though his fingers never left the strings, he wasn’t playing anymore. “Michael Jackson is dead.”

“I know.” She’d thought it was a joke at first – one of her customers mentioned it while paying for her drink. Then someone else brought it up. And so did the next customer in line.

“It’s just-” Zeke waved with his hand, as if trying to find the words. It was then that Emma realized the music came from his record player, not the computer; “Thriller” had to be one of his father’s old records. “I’ve listened to his music for years. Sure, the new stuff wasn’t any good but he was a genius, Em.”

Resting her head against his shoulder, Emma whispered, “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. While she hadn’t expected this reaction out of him, it made sense – Zeke had many musical idols and he loved 1980s pop music.

Zeke blew out a breath, shoulder slumping forward. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been on my mind ever since I found out.” He strummed the guitar. “I’ve been trying to play all night, but this is all that comes out.” He played for a second, the notes forming the bassline to “Thriller.”

“Maybe that’s all you need to play.” Sitting up, Emma crossed her legs, leaning forward. “Or maybe it’s because the record’s on.”

“It’s been on since I got home.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t know. I didn’t expect it to hit so hard, you know? It’s not like I knew him personally. I just had a few albums.”

She reached for his hand, stilling his fingers as they brushed over the strings. “That’s not the point. Music, art – they touch you. You don’t have to know them to be affected by it.”

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“I think you’re grieving. I’d be the same way if one of my idols passed away unexpectedly.” She couldn’t imagine if Neil Gaiman or Jim Butcher stopped writing; their works were the kind of books she hoped to write someday. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He was quiet for a moment, looking down at his hands – no, not his hands, but the instrument he held. “Distract me?”

As gently as she could, Emma took the guitar from him, setting it next to her on the bed. “We stick with the plan. Ice cream at Hank’s tonight, remember?”

His eyes brightened. “I haven’t been to Hank’s since I came home.”

“It’ll be just like old times.” She sat up, holding her hands out to him. “Come on. We’ll be standing in line forever if we don’t get there soon.”

Before they left, Zeke paused in front of the record playing, hand resting against the glass. The music still played, almost as if he was afraid to shut it off. After a minute or so, he lifted the lid and took the needle off the record. “When we come back,” he murmured.

“When we come back,” Emma agreed, taking his hand and leading him to the door.

Wednesday Blog Post: This Week's Inspiration

It's no secret that I am a huge Star Wars fan. I've been collecting the books since I was 10 years old; even my till tags at work say "Lord Vader" on them. (No, I'm not making this up.) Say what you want about the prequels and the special editions - I've been in love the world the movies created since I was a little girl.

As I'm feeling under the weather this week, I spent my day off on my couch rewatching A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back. For as much as I was watching them for the fun of it, I found myself noticing details about how the story is put together, how these characters are revealed, how George Lucas created the Star Wars universe star by star, planet by planet, ship by ship. Working on a science-fiction based story myself, currently dubbed "the Imperial story," I tried to pay attention to the details I might overlook since I know the plot so well.

What struck me the most while watching was how much of the characterization went unsaid, though I knew what and who everyone and everything was. For example, some of the races are named - Chewbacca is a Wookiee (and he doesn't live on Endor) - but others aren't, like the Biths who play in the band in the Mos Eisley cantina. It's these tiny details that reveal the world this story takes place in, bit by bit, assembled together like the pieces of the Millenium Falcon.

Star Wars also shows reasons to be on the rebellion's side throughout the course of the films - the Empire is shown only as being evil, controlling, not paying much attention to the wishes of the people. Vader Force-chokes those who fail him. Tarkin blows up Alderaan just to show off what the Death Star can do, for crying out loud. This was a major point for me: While I know what I want the rebellion in my story to be about, I know little about the empire they're fighting. Watching the way Star Wars handles its villains, both big and small, started turning the wheels in my mind; I have a few ideas now, whereas I didn't have any before.

While I could watch these movies over and over again, yesterday's viewings struck home just because of what I'm currently working on. Both my story and the original Star Wars trilogy focus on the struggles of freedom fighters, and while I have no desire to copy a classic, I won't lie and say I'm not inspired by it. Yesterday, I banged out a rough draft of a completely scene for the Imperial Story in one sitting, which doesn't always happen for me. Who knows? Maybe I'll end up dedicating the finished novel to George Lucas after all.

Monday Writing Prompt: In Remembrance

The entertainment industry lost three greats last week: singer Michael Jackson, actress Farrah Fawcett, and emcee Ed McMahon. Everyone remembers people, even celebrities, differently; I choose to do so through writing. This week's prompt is actually a combination of three prompts, one for each celebrity. Maybe one will speak to you, much as they did in real life.

For MJ, the prompt is Thriller. Everyone's seen the classic music video, heard it on the radio, or know of the album of the same name. You could use the video or its lyrics as inspiration, or use the word "thriller" itself to spark your creativity. It's up to you; I chose it because it's my favorite of all his videos.

For the lovely Miss Fawcett, the prompt is swimsuit. We all know the iconic picture of Farrah, head tilted back, blond hair falling waves, that graced every teenage boy's wall in the 1970s and beyond. Let this image be your inspiration - in a creative way, of course. I see miles of shoreline and a trio of girls saying, "Hello, Charlie!" in the background.

For Ed McMahon, the prompt is sidekick. Ed's great claim to fame was working with Johnny Carson on the "Tonight Show," introducing him each night with a rousing, "Heeeeere's Johnny!" Watch some old clips - I'm sure there's some on YouTube, everything is on YouTube - and see if any of the jokes get your brain working.

The way I see it, I want to remember these people for the good things they did - not the scandals, the cancer, the financial woes. And the best way I know to honor their memory is through my writing. Maybe this will work for you, maybe it won't. I'll be back on Friday with something I hope lives up to what I have in mind.

---

Don't like this week's prompt? Check out previous ones through the Monday Writing Prompt tag.

Friday Writing Response for June 26, 2009

This one was harder to finish than I thought it would be, including a couple false starts. The first image I came up with for the "I remember..." prompt ended up being the one I used, though I tried others first. I think it has to do with the proximity of the event in question, the one year anniversary of Steve's death coming up. The prompt I used was: "I remember Steve ordering his caramel macchiatos, wanting them 'hot, hot, hot,' the look on Kim's face when she told me he passed away."


---


Pat and Steve used to come to our store two or three times a week. They'd been married for forever and a day, and whenever we hired a new barista, Pat made sure to ask what his or her name was, how they liked the store, what was new that day. Every time we would go out and clean the condiment bar, one of them would strike up a conversation, and if the store was slow, I would stand there and talk for a few minutes.

When they came in, every one of us knew what Pat and Steve drank: caramel macchiatos, no foam, light caramel, nonfat milk, "hot, hot, hot," Steve would tell us as he pulled out his money. I always remember him smiling as he got their drinks, bring them to their table by the window. After their morning drinks, they would walk a few laps around the mall, hand in hand.

They were like the store's grandparents. When mine were three states away, I felt like I could confide in them if I ever needed someone to talk to. When I opened the store during the week, I always knew I'd get to see them.

Then, a few weeks passed, and Pat and Steve didn't come in. Steve had cancer, I learned, something he'd been fighting for a long time. No one ever mentioned a thing and he was always smiling, never mentioning that anything was wrong. Their absence from our store was something we noticed.

We signed get well cards. A few of my co-workers visited him in the hospital; I wasn't able to go. The last I knew, the doctors said Steve was getting better, and he should get to come home.

He didn't. Pat and her sister came in to tell Kim and Steph, who had worked there the longest, the closest to them. And it was Kim who told me as I walked in for my shift. "Steve's dead."

I stared at her, mouth slack, trying to let the words sink in. Steve's dead. I didn't realize I'd started crying until the tears had reached my chin and Kim was pulling me against her, my head pressed against her shoulder. "I've been thinking about how to tell you and it just came out," she said. "We cried too. I sent Steph home. She's never lost someone so close before."

Later that night, I would send Kim home too; though she tried to act like she was okay, her heart and mind were elsewhere. I would be the strong one, who would take care of the store and do my job for all of us.

All I remember is getting home and finally letting it out, curling up with my new kitten, only four months old at the time, still young enough to want to be held. That was how my parents found me, balled up on the couch, clutching my cat and unable to stop crying.

The part that hurt the most was explaining who Steve was and what he meant to us. That was almost a year ago, now. Steph mentioned it a couple weeks ago and though Pat still comes in, still talks about Steve, none of us have mentioned the anniversary to her.

Wednesday Blog Post: The Struggle With Memory

Having written the first draft of a creative nonfiction book and a handful of short stories in the genre, I'll be the first to admit, writing the truth is hard. The stories you don't want to remember but you just can't forget are often the ones that need to be written, no matter how hard it is to put the words on paper. My biggest problem I run into is that I think I remember everything perfectly - until I sit down to write.

I noticed this especially while drafting my thesis, American Studies. I had been sharing stories about the AS crew - Derek, Dave, Barton, et. al. - all through college, so of course I knew what the stories were. When I sat down to start outlining and selecting scenes, I realized how much I had forgotten, and how much wasn't applicable to the plot I had in my head. Yes, the sock joke, a line I knew from start to finish, was hilarious, but it was just an anecdote; it didn't represent what and who this class was about. It was the intangible moments in between I was trying to capture.

I did have a few resources to fall back on: the diary I kept that year and a handful of papers and assignments from the class. One of our projects had been to keep a daily journal, so I have consecutive entries for most of November and all of December 2001. I have the entries from Sept. 11th and my reactions, its impact on my classmates and I. I have the 100 word essays Mrs. Sihvonen decorated with red pen and a rewrite stamp, the current event assignments dotted with Mrs. Kowal's opinion.

Some of it made me giggle. Some of it, especially the Sept. 11th entries, make me reflect on everything that tragedy set into motion, how our world changed. And when I read about Tonya, our classmate who died because of a car accident, I remembered. I was back in Mrs. Kowal's room again, Barton's foot tapping and his hands folded against his chin, stone-faced, jaw clenched. Kristin was crying softly and I was dabbing at my eyes with a school tissue; I might as well have scraped my eyes with sandpaper.

Do I remember the exact words said? No; I don't have a tape of the event, and 16-year-old me didn't write it down. But I remember Mrs. Kowal asking us if we wanted to have class, and someone - I'm pretty sure it was Dave - spoke for all of us, saying we wanted to continue. Rereading all the material I kept jogged my memory, brought me back to the people and the feelings I wanted, needed to capture in words. Writing this now still brings it back, every worry and fear and laugh and bit of happines..

The key here is to stay true to who these people are and convey their personalities onto the page. Even if the dialogue isn't exact, it probably won't be, it should still sound like something they would have said. Cross reference what you can and remember, you can always talk to other people who were there. This is one step I didn't take with the first draft of American Studies, though I probably will for the second draft, whenever I decide to start it.

Bicky was the only one who knew I was writing it. "Are you going to use our real names?" he asked. "Because I think that you should."

I did. And I hope that, when the project is complete, it is an accurate reflection of not only my memories, but of the people who made those days mean so much to me.