Novels

Reading Feeds Writing (still)

/ still a dreamer

One of the things I love talking about with friends is what books we are reading and what we are writing. The two topics are often in the same conversation.

One friend is working very hard on her middle grade novel. I am generally working on picture books; however, a middle grade novel is slowly writing itself in my head. I’m asked if I’m not writing this down. I am not. But little by little I am getting to know my characters and I have a fair idea of where they’ve come from, what is shaping their dilemmas and where they are going. When the time is right, and when I know them better, I will begin the writing process.

Meanwhile, I read.  In talking with my friend, we discussed the 3 books I have just finished. She had not read two, but was interested in doing so for the reasons I’ll describe. She was reading, but lost interest in and abandoned, the third.

The first is The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares. I had seen the movie – it was light, probably a “chick flick” – but I liked it.
Advantage to Writer? Observing and understanding realistic  dialogue and relationships between teenage girls.

The second is The Divide by Nicholas Evans, probably best known as the author of The Horse Whisperer. I also read The Loop by him. What a way Evans has of engaging you in a story, building up suspense, then taking a sharp turn away to another character, leaving you wanting more. I only hope, whenever I write my novel, that I can hold a reader’s interest like he does.
Advantage to Writer? Learning how to pace a novel for maximum effect.

The third, (and unfinished by my friend), is The Lovely Bones by Alice Siebold. This was a daring first novel, told from the first person POV of a 12 year old girl who is raped and murdered, and is now in heaven. This could have been really strange, quirky or sappy. It was none of these, and it had my attention through to the end.
Advantage to Writer? Learning to trust in your own unique story ideas, that writing from the deepest and most real place within is where the best stories will always come from.

I trust that all I’m learning is soaking into my unconscious and always making me a better writer. And so the enjoyment of wonderful books continues. What is your reading bringing to you?

Forgetting What We Read Late at Night ….

/ still a dreamer

When I woke up the other morning and looked at the book on my night stand, I remembered I had read it the night before. But I was having a hard time remembering exactly what I had read. I had that sinking feeling that I was going to be re-reading a bunch of pages again. Sound familiar?

Sometimes in our busy lives, that most precious of times – reading time – gets put off to the very end of the day when we have the least energy. We’re so tired that even a good book can put us to sleep. What’s worse than realizing that we have  no clue as to what we read the night before?

This happens not just to me but to other women I know, as well. It’s rather discouraging. And the book I’m in now – which is fabulous – will not be the first book I start again from the beginning because I know I’ve missed too much from late night reading.

Yesterday, I thought of a solution. What if women friends, (OK – it could be guy friends, too), opened their homes – when they were out and busy with errands for a while – to other friends who needed a couple hours just to read? Outrageous, right? For example, I’m going to be gone for half a day. I give my friend my key, leave fixings for coffee or tea on the counter, maybe a snack, and she comes in with her book and actually reads! Chances are excellent that this is what will happen, because who feels obliged to clean anyone else’s house, answer their phone, or run their laundry? No one! It’s clear, guilt-free sailing!

Yes, we’re talking stolen hours … maybe once a week, or even at odd intervals … for the sheer joy of reading uninterrupted. Who wouldn’t do that for a friend?

When the Title Doesn’t Fit the Story – Taming the Star Runner

/ still a dreamer

When I’m offered coffee, I don’t want tea. When I’m offered a ride, I don’t expect to walk. When I choose a book entitled Taming the Star Runner, with a number of horses on the cover, and a jacket liner which pumps up the story of a horse named Star Runner, I don’t expect a story about a teenage boy named Travis. But that’s what I got.

Taming the Star Runner  by S. E. Hinton is a coming-of-age story about a 15 year old named Travis, who, while he sees himself as very cool, is always on the edge of getting in more trouble than he can handle. After attempting to kill his abusive stepfather and doing some time, he is sent to live with his uncle on a ranch in Oklahoma. Here he meets, among others, a teen barely older than himself, Casey, rider and riding instructor, and then we finally meet who seemed to allegedly be a main character, her horse named Star Runner. Had I not been excited to read a story about this wild horse, who only first appears halfway through the book, I may have liked the story more. Or maybe not picked it up at all.

S.E. Hinton, deliberately using only her initials as an author, (lest it be realized she was a very young woman author), broke ground in the 60’s, writing about gangs. Her first published book was The Outsiders, written when she was 16. This story is similar in the sense that Travis is another angry, angst-filled teen, feeling unappreciated, isolated and ever on the edge of an emotional explosion. The story is fairly good, actually. Travis’ character is well-drawn, as are other characters, and the plot has some interesting twists and turns, even if, in my mind, they are not all tied up that well in the end. Still, this particular tale became more interesting for me when the powerful spirit of Star Runner was introduced and the girl who wanted to tame him.

Having read a number of Newbery-winning and other middle grade novels, and having learned what editors are looking for and what is being published nowadays, I can’t help but wonder if Hinton would have been published today. Or at least if she remained in her own writing style. Being mindful of what we are told at workshops, conferences, online, etc. I am sometimes amazed at how she worded things, switching tenses, using unmarked self-reflective dialogue in the same paragraph as lengthy descriptions, etc. It made me realize how much more refined the craft of writing – in this case, for teens – has become.

I don’t mean to sit and criticize S.E. Hinton for what she did – she brought a whole new way of life and type of character to light in her novels. They were groundbreaking, have become classics, and continue to resonate well with many readers today. I only wish the book had really been about what the title told me.

 

Me? Write A Novel?

/ still a dreamer

A novel? Really? A couple years ago, Sheri, from our children’s writer’s group, said, “You have a novel in you.” I didn’t find that to be something impossible, yet didn’t see it as highly likely at the time, either.

Aside from one story of mine which hasn’t yet found its proper genre – picture book, chapter book or middle grade – I have been focusing on picture books. I read novels all the time, but had not really thought about writing one of my own. The meager story beginning I had written for a First Page Session was a starting point, and even then, I wasn’t all that focused on it. Until I got a critique from two editors on my storyline, and things that did and didn’t work for an MG reader.

Since that time, I’ve had a unique experience. The story is writing itself.

I’ve read online, and seen among my fellow writers, how some novelists just write it all down straightaway, while others make an outline, map it out, etc. This is not what’s happening. The story is telling itself to me … at odd times, when I’m relaxing, working, whenever it pleases. I mentioned this to my friend, Linda, who told me I’m channeling my story. Well, that’s kind of exciting, and makes sense. Although I envisioned a most basic structure for how the pattern of the chapters would go, beyond that, it just keeps coming.

I’m not writing anything down; there’s no way I’ll forget it. I’m allowing it to just come through. I cry, I laugh, I see who’s becoming a character. This is very new to me. Some ideas require some of my attention – for ex., should that character enter my heroine’s life in the same chapter as another? Why IS my character like that? And I let it go. The answers come back in a fairly short time.

I don’t need too many facts at this time – I can fill in the realities of horses, riding, racing, later. But I realize I can also feed my storywriter within, so am reading Taming the Star Runner by S.E. Hinton, and perhaps returning to other horse related books I have here or reading some new ones or checking out some videos. I am fortunate to have friends involved with horses who can help me with facts, as well as one of the sources for this story’s inspiration … the horses of Mylestone Equine Rescue, for whom I volunteer and help in other ways.

Perhaps the best part of all – is I’m not in a rush. It comes as it comes, and I’m quite grateful for that.

At top left is a photograph I took of Calvin, one of Mylestone‘s rescued horses.

Rambling

/ still a dreamer

I find there are periods of time in which I am all over the place. I’m working on several graphics jobs that call upon very different mindsets, am fielding a proposal to do a new job, wondering when I should follow up on something I am waiting to hear back on, when I’ll get the time, (or desire), to simply pull the remaining paperwork from my files so I can put away all my 2010 tax stuff, and it goes on and on.

I finally used my Barnes & Noble’s gift card from Christmas – bought the reference book I’ll need for some of my characters in the picture book I’ll be bringing with me to the upcoming NJ SCBWI June Conference, and surprise! David Cook’s CD, (yup, from American Idol.) Usually, when I work at my desk, I listen to new age, light classical piano or guitar, or Indian (American) music because I can’t do creative writing when someone is singing lyrics, but lately, when on other types of work, I find myself listening to the radioio IDOLS station in iTunes. Sometimes I watch the show, sometimes not – this year I seem to be interested. I do know, however, when I hear David Cook’s voice, I hear something I like, so he’ll be arriving in a few days. And then I went to read a bit about Patricia Briggs’ latest in the Mercy Thompson series, River Marked, but let’s not go there just yet.

Forrest Gump arrived today. I must be the only person on the planet who hasn’t seen Forrest Gump, but so be it. I, unlike a friend of mine, am a constant juggler of movies in my queue. He just adds something, and when it comes up, it comes up. Not me. I seem to ponder how it will fit in with the current tenor of my life, my feelings, etc. Do I want to laugh? (or need to?) Am in the frame of mind to deal with something powerful and disturbing? I can’t say how many times I have pushed Hotel Rwanda down as it begins to surface in my queue. And I just watched Alice in Wonderland, which I really enjoyed a lot. Makes me think that maybe when I’m done my current book, that I’ll read Alice – she’s a fixture on my bookshelf.

Now watching Alice in Wonderland and Forrest Gump may be an offset to that current book – The Kite Runner. I was told it was a very sad book. I didn’t ask why my friend found it so, so am discovering the many levels of sadness for myself. Certainly, reading a book like this makes it that much more obvious what fabulous, often spoiled, lives we are living here in the land of the free and home of the brave. Visualizing the bombed ruins of Kabul and other parts of Afghanistan and the cruelty of the Taliban as described by the author is sobering to say the least. And it made me think of how that happened here in its own way, except that the victims weren’t Afghani people, they were native Americans.

Imagining the abject poverty the Afghan people were subjected to is heartbreaking, but that same poverty is also right here in America. Many of those living on reservations are living in conditions that are below those of third world countries, yet no one ever talks about it. Or even seems to know. Indians have the highest rate of poverty of any group in the United States.

Years ago at a pow-wow, I saw this great tee shirt. It was funny, well, no – not funny – more ironic. Clever. Ultimately, more sad than anything else. It features Geronimo and several other Indians, the tee shirt saying – Homeland Security – Fighting Terrorism since 1492. Here it is – you can order it at Northern Sun along with many items which have something to say. Was their experience so different than what happened in Afghanistan? Their world destroyed, families killed, homes taken away, forced to live where their terrorists demanded. It was a very dark chapter in American history. I wonder if that history is being taught. Or that this impoverished way of life, so unlike our own, continues on in many parts of this country. Or are we all just too busy?

Well, rambling I am. I also wonder when one of my cats will get past the hairball she seems to be harboring somewhere in her digestive tract, and which she feels compelled to try and push up in the vicinity of 2 – 4 a.m.

And I can’t wait to start photographing my friend’s little boy, my model for the MC in aforementioned picture book. Yeah, just all over.