Writerly Friends

Head on over to D. M. McReynold's site and wish him all the best. Borders Bookstore has selected an excerpt from his book Alliance for their Tacoma The Word is Out reading event! Show up and support him, if you're in the area. If not, drop him a line and give him the kudos he deserves. Also, sneak over to the Pacific Northwest Writers Association's site where McReynold's bio is posted with other TWIO authors!

Also, if you haven't heard, you can pick up Douglas L. Perry's new book, Lost in the Sky. I haven't received my copy yet, but I'm ordering it through Amazon. Should be here any day, and I'm looking forward to reading it!

And finally, make sure you stop by tomorrow for the long-awaited interview with Cindy Pon. I am so excited I can barely wait myself! And the bestest news?! She'll be dropping by, reading your comments and questions, and choosing one of you to award an ARC to! Awww, ain't you the lucky ones?!

Why Do You Write?

There are many reasons to write, and so many of us do it without thinking. The cards, recipes, emails, IMs, twitters, and shopping lists are but a few of the scribbles or button punches we make throughout the day. But that's not the kind of writing I'm talking about. You knew that.

Why do I write? Why do I world build and character mold and plot thicken? What draws me back, time and time again, to the screen and keyboard?

Could it be the life style? I can picture myself now, dapper sweater layered over turtleneck and lean velvet skirt, hair fanned out down my back like mahogany jewelry. A svelte laptop slung on a battle-worn table, the coffee rings scored deep into the wooden grain. A world-weary gaze settled oh-so-importantly on my brow...

Um no. Not me. I need privacy and silence to write.

Could it be the money? I won't even bother. Nathan did it for us already. I excerpted the bit below, but check out the post yourself.

Start with a $24.95 hardcover:

$12.48 to the bookseller (50%)

$9.98 to the publisher (50% minus author/agent share)

$2.12 to the author (10% of retail minus 15%)

$0.38 to the agent (15% of 10%)

Not a huge motivator in my world. Or any world.

Could it be the prestige? "You're an author? Really? Have you written anything I would have read? Oh. Guess not. Hey, would you speak to my daughter's class? You'd be an awesome show-and-tell."

You guessed it. Probably not.

I write because I must. Because when I'm not writing, it's what I think about. Even when I'm walking or driving or talking to people, I'm dissecting and planning and revising. It's second nature. It's in the blood. But not in a bad way. I don't foam at the mouth or sink into monosyllabic utterances when denied writing time. I don't pout or throw temper tantrums. It's simply what I prefer to do with my time and energy...and it's what makes me feel the most fulfilled. I've never known anything quite like it.

And you? Why do you write? It's for the money, I bet. Or not :)

Writer's Retreat in the Grand Southwest

A Room of Her Own Foundation is sponsoring a writer's retreat for women this coming August 10-16, 2009. The deadline is fast approaching, so if you're interested, get you're on-line application in by midnight, March 5th.

IF the idea of wandering the grounds of Georgia O'Keeffe's Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, New Mexico isn't enough to inspire you, maybe the fact that you'll be discussing the craft of writing with professionals in the publishing field will. Joining the retreat this year will be Rita Dove, Pulitzer-prize winner and former U.S. Poet Laureate, so get your applications in!

Meet the Silver Phoenix

If this little tease doesn't entice you, I don't know what will. I'm already intrigued, already thankful I've pre-ordered the book, already itching to find out what happens next. It's true, gang: we are going to love The Silver Phoenix by Cindy Pon. Read on for a snippet of the Pon magic and tell me that you're not a little curious about so much.

Excerpt:

"I should go," Ai Ling said. She owed him thanks. He had saved herlife, after all.

He remained silent, looking down at her—his face never betraying histhoughts. His golden eyes were tinged with green. She dropped hergaze, hating herself for noticing.

What was he thinking? Without conscious effort, she cast herself toward him, threw an invisible cord from her spirit to his. She felt it waver like a drunken serpent, fumble, and then latch. The sudden pulling and tautness within her navel surprised her.

She remembered watching her father fish once. He'd offered her the bamboo rod when a fish took the bait, tugging so hard against the line she was afraid the rod would snap. It felt like that.

She felt an irresistible draw toward her hooked target, followed by a strange snap sensation. She was within Chen Yong's being.

Ai Ling noticed his higher vantage point immediately. She had always been told she was tall for a girl, but she didn't look so from his eyes. His body was more rested than hers. There were no knots of anxiety in his shoulders, no soreness in his neck. A power and strength unfamiliar to her coursed through his limbs, a litheness coiled within him.

She stared at herself. She stood in a stance of defiance, arms folded across her chest. Did she always look so childish, so stubborn?

Was that Chen Yong's thought or her own? She quieted her spirit, eavesdropped within his mind. Feisty. She plucked the one word which flitted to her from his thoughts. It emerged with a sense of amusement and surprised admiration. Suddenly, she felt ashamed that she was intruding. She was curious but it felt wrong. She drew herself back reluctantly, felt the snap as she returned to her ownbeing.

The world tilted for a brief moment, and she tried to cover her unsteadiness by fussing with her knapsack. She blinked away the black spots which floated across her vision. What was happening to her?Had he felt her trespass? She glanced up at him. His expression had not changed. She straightened, and drew a deep breath.

"I can never repay your kindness. Thank you." She spoke from the heart, he deserved that much.

Chen Yong nodded. "And to you, Ai Ling. Take good care."

She blushed, turned so he would not see, and walked away. She looked back once, to find him still standing in the same spot, and waved. He lifted one hand in farewell. Ai Ling hoped he would follow. She quickly cast the thought aside as if the desire had never existed.

=-=-=-=-=-
My love:
1. Great simile: drunken serpent
2. I like the tidbit about fishing with her father
3. I actually felt the muscles in my shoulders relax when I read that Chen Yong's body was more rested than hers

My curiosity:
1. How long has she had this ability?
2. Was this the first person she's 'hooked'?
3. Does it always feel the same way?

News that'll make you do the Happy Dance:
I'm not supposed to let the cat out of the bag quite yet, but (shhhh) Cindy will be stopping in sometime within the next week to do an interview!

The Write Ingredients

Every high school freshman knows the criteria for a story by heart. Without characters, setting, and plot, you have nothing. "Without conflict," I always add, "you have nothing." But that's because they're freshmen; you already know that.

Gavin of Mechanical Hamster writes, "Every scene - every scene - needs to contribute something to all three of these story elements." This started me to thinking. And reflecting. And researching.

Let's look at Poe, master of horror, and his short story "The Tell-Tale Heart." The story is no doubt familiar to you: the narrator murders an old man because of his 'vulture eye' and then confesses the murder to the police because he imagines hearing the dead man's beating heart. I've chosen the second and fourth paragraphs of the story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture --a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees --very gradually --I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

To say that this scene furthers characterization is to put it mildly. Never have I been more completely convinced that a narrator is obsessive-compulsive, paranoid, or insane. The scene also furthers plot. Plainly. He's going to kill the old man. Now we know where the story is going.

A paragraph in a later scene reads: I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back --but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

Characterization-wise, we know that the narrator is not only insane but giddy with his evil, his own daring. He not only worries about what others think, but he's intent upon proving how courageous he is. He is also aware of the old man's fear of 'robbers'. As for setting, not only are we in a bedroom with fastened shutters, but we are in a thick, black as pitch darkness.

There is something to this layering of each scene with character, plot, and/or setting. I'm not certain I agree that every scene needs to include all three pillars, but it's true that every scene should further the cause of at least two of them.

My research is not ending here with Poe. I shall continue combing through stories and books I love. But what do you do in your own writing? Do you consciously seek to include all three of these elements in every scene? Or do you leave that for revising? Or do you just write what comes to mind?

Vacation from Writing or Cop-Out?

I've noticed a trend in my own writing and blogging, and I'm making brave. I'm going to base my hypothesis on nothing more than a simple observation. Maybe it's valid. Maybe it's a cop-out. But here's what I'm picking up: when I'm grading a lot of essays or reading other people's writing, I don't write. Sometimes I pretend I do, but the truth is pretty harsh. I produce next to nothing.

Anyone see anything wrong with this picture? I'm an English teacher. I assign essays. I read a lot of papers. Grading, it's what I do.

Okay, it's not that bad. Usually, I only have several hours a week of evening grading. It just so happens that I had extra grading in the month of January. And February. Portfolios were due, and those require hours and hours of grading. Entire weekends chock full of nothing but grading. Evenings spent surrounded by piles of binders, up to my elbows in abstraction poems and auto-biographical narratives and prose analysis essays.

Something happens when I read for work. Instead of finding inspiration, my inner writer encases herself in a shell and hides. It's not that she's shy or overworked or distracted --> I think she's just being petty. She wants to be the center of my universe; she doesn't want to share the stage. If she cannot have my undivided attention, then she wants none of it. And, for better or worse, I lose all desire to string sentences together beyond this vague, moody "i wanna be a writer" feeling I have in the back of my head -- that is, you must admit, a bloody poor excuse for writing.

So what about you? Do certain jobs or activities distract you from writing? I'm not talking about something that actually prevents you from writing but rather something that steals your desire or your muse or your secret rock that you keep hidden on the window sill...

Pre-Order New Books

Have you had a chance to check out the three new young adult titles I've listed as must-buy? Why not? What have you been waiting for? Oh, I know: January tumbled by and now February is seducing us with glimmerings of sunlight and the occasional tweetering robin admist the chill winds and sudden flurries. I totally understand. But do consider slipping over to the authors' sites and seeing what they have to offer. You'll be pleased.

And, today, after my long hiatus involving delightful smoochings and rompings with my little nephew who's visiting from New Mexico (my apologies for being AWOL with no previous explanation), I jumped onto Amazon and pre-ordered all three books.

I challenge you to do the same!

1. Silver Phoenix: Beyond the Kingdom of Xia by Cindy Pon
2. Wings by Aprilynne Pike
3. Faery Rebels: Spell Hunter by R. J. Anderson

Too, if you pre-order, you pay less! And in this uncertain economic time, that's certainly a silver lining... Well, go on, then. :)