Billy Collins & Validation

Last night, my friend Elyse and I ventured downtown to hear Billy Collins, my favorite poet, read at the Pantages Theatre.

He read for about an hour, a lot of new stuff from Aimless Lovehis new book (I read all the new poems in one sitting– I can do that for no other poet than Billy Collins) but also some old favorites like “The Revenant” and “The Lanyard.”

If you’re not familiar with Billy Collins, please come out from under the dark rock you’re living beneath (I kid, I kid!).  No, but really, in case you didn’t know, Billy Collins is a brilliant and hilarious poet.  Hearing him read live is such a treat for his deadpan delivery.  Elyse remarked, “It’s like attending a comedy event … but a really highbrow one.”

We laughed and laughed and laughed– and then made those soft sighs and murmurs that follow poignant poems.

Afterward, he had a very short Q&A session (which he called a conversation) wherein he said (and I’m paraphrasing as best I can here), “If you read great work and feel appreciative, you’re not a writer.  Writers read and feel a burning jealousy.”

YES!  I was so just discussing this on my blog.

It was a delightful evening with delightful company.  Elyse and I were some of the youngest people in the audience, and I felt bad for the rest of my generation that was spending their Friday without Billy.

Click this image to link to the book's Goodreads page.

Click this image to link to the book’s Goodreads page.

 

 

Writing-Related Things I Want Even More Than Publication

crying writer1. To honor God.
2. To respect myself as a writer.
3. To tell the story that I want to tell.
4. To write books of depth that make people think.
5. To be proud of what I write.

 

There’s so much more to be said about each of these, but for today, I just wanted to make this declaration.

Random 5 Friday is a weekly meme over at A Rural Journal.

Pseudo-Writing

What exactly is “pseudo-writing,” you ask?

Well, you could call it research.

More accurately, you could call it avoidance.

My pseudo-writing is usually writing-related, so I give myself a pass, but the truth of the matter is that it’s not really writing.

I fill out surveys about my characters.  I look online for pictures of the people and places in the story.  I draw maps of the location.  I get really obsessed about small details and spend hours looking up stuff related to it.  Sometimes I decide to design a bunch of stuff for my blog.

For example …

I knew that my character Jess was essentially Drew Roy.  That part was easy.

drew roy

But I literally searched the internet for hours to find a picture of Elly that matched the image in my mind.  I got sort of close a couple times, but finally I found this random photo.  And … it. was. Elly. A 100% match.

elly

There’s a greenhouse in the new story, so of course I had to find some photos of that too.

greenhouse

 

When I realized that one of the characters walked with a limp, I went off on a tangent, looking for photos of awesome canes meant for teenagers (there aren’t a lot out there).  I spent, oh, an hour or two researching canes.  (And wouldn’t mind some more photos, if you find any cool canes meant for a 13-15 year old boy.)

I still need to sketch out a map of the boarding school and nearby town where the story takes place.

Still trying to decide if pseudo-writing is productive or not … anyone care to weigh in?

 

Win-Win-Win?

My big question as of late was this:

How do I honor God, myself, and my agent when we seem to want different things?

A little backstory: my novel has significant religious themes, ones that are important to me.  (Like, the-core-of-who-I-am important.)  My agent thought it all needed to be toned down in order to sell.  At first, I thought I was going to refuse.  I really did.  I didn’t even look at my manuscript for over a week.

Then, one night, I had an epiphany.  I had thought epiphanies were accompanied by a choir of angels or a visible light bulb illuminated over one’s head, but it turns out that they can be just as quiet as a word crawling into your mind while you try to sleep and making a nest for itself there.

The word was parables.

In scripture, Christ told stories all the time.  Parables.  Lots of people believe that parables were intended to make things easier for people to understand, but that’s not actually what the Bible says.  Essentially, scripture says that parables were meant for some to see … and some to not.

I wondered, Can I bury these truths so deep in my story that those who want to see them will see them– and those who don’t want to won’t?

It seemed like the one and only way to satisfy my agent while also honoring the story I wanted to tell.  It also seemed terrifically difficult.  Shooting for such a minuscule target.  I knew I wasn’t good enough writer to do these edits without help.

So I prayed.  A lot.  And spent time in scripture.  A lot.  And wrote an okay new first draft, a better second draft, third …, showed it to my writing group, wrote another draft or so, and after two weeks of attempting to create a parable, I sent my revisions off to my agent.

Heard from him today.  Thumbs up.

He’s going to send the manuscript out to editors on Monday.

win win

 P.S. If you’re a person who prays, would you pray for my manuscript to find favor with an editor?  I’m sooooooo nervous!

A Fun Writing Update for My Blog Readers

My last update on the writing front was on June 5th, when I wrote:

I am in the middle of writing a short story.  It’s about four teenaged wards of the state living in hospice care.  Morbid much?  But I feel very invested in these thirteen pages, very passionate about these four friends who have no one but each other as their time is running out.  My writing group is helping me with the next draft, and I’m hoping to enter it into a contest before the month is over.

Then, on June 19th, I let you in on my writing process, specifically regarding the hospice care story, leaving a tiny P.S. at the end of the post:

P.S. I really did write Mack’s story about living and dying in hospice with other teenagers.  I’m submitting it to a contest this month, where I assume nothing will happen.  Once nothing happens, I’ll probably share it on my blog or over on Crux.

Well, guess what?

That short story– “Covered Up Our Names”– won the contest!  I’m so honored to be the 2013 winner of the Katherine Paterson Prize for Young Adult and Children’s Writing, a contest hosted by Hunger Mountain.

If you click here, you can even see their little write-up about me!  They called it a “powerful” story, and that fills my heart with deep gratitude.  The contest judge was Rebecca Stead, 2010 winner of the Newbery Medal.  I read her book “When You Reach Me” nearly one year ago and reviewed it on my blog, saying:

Brilliant!  I actually shouted aloud the moment that everything finally clicked into place for me– I was that excited.  Absolutely loved it.

writingI am thrilled that my story will be published in Hunger Mountain, and I’m so terribly grateful for the cash prize, but what makes the entire enterprise so special to me is that Rebecca Stead loved my story.

I’m honored and elated.

I want you all to read the story!  I imagine the rights will revert back to me after publication, so I’ll anticipate sharing it with you then.  Or you can purchase a copy of Hunger Mountain 18 for just $12.

 

 

My Favorite Things

My friend Elyse recently posted about her favorite things, and I wanted to do the same!

1. The perfect phrase/image.  My writer’s heart takes delight in the phrases that make me catch my breath.

starsburnedmyeyes

2. Certain kinds of awkwardness.  Primarily of the I-think-we-have-crushes-on-each-other type.

awkward

3. Color.  Especially really rich reds and purples.  (More details here.)

redandpurple

4. Creativity and the joy that comes from it.  Although this is bigger than writing, writing probably tops my list!

writinggirl

5. Deep conversation sprinkled with silliness.  One of the common threads through my closest friendships!

convo

Bonus–

6. Smells.  Current favorites are lilacs, mown grass, and Love, NY&C fragrance.

lilacs

Writing is HARD … but worth it. (I think.)

nobody saidNo, no, I don’t think it– I know it.  I’m just coming off of a long weekend chock full of revisions.  The hardest revisions of my life.

I mean, I’ll be honest, I got down on my face before God about these revisions.

Here’s the thing.  One of my #1 goals in writing is to make people think.  I’m not setting out to write a little beach read about which boy is the cutest one on the island.  (No offense to anyone writing a book with that premise.)  I want to write about ideas and history, about philosophy and religion and paradigms for understanding the world.  For teens.

The thing with that kind of book is that it’s hard to write.  Your brain churns like a waterwheel, and you have to process these ideas that you’re setting forth.  My goodness, I’m writing for young adults, so I feel this responsibility to present them with valid questions (and sometimes answers, although the questions are often more interesting).  When I write a pivotal scene and send it off to beta-readers, the response isn’t just, “I like it” or “Use more imagery” or “Better word choices please.”  Sometimes the feedback launches me into a re-evaluation of my worldview and the framework through which I see the world.

Makes revisions go a lot slower.

The thing is, I love productivity, so I want to revise quickly and efficiently, but sometimes that’s just not possible.

I am so grateful for amazing friends who are also fascinated by ideas and willing to process them with me.  Right now I’m thinking especially of Kristin Luehr and Cindy Hunt.  Thanks, ladies, for loving the questions and, each in your own way, embracing the incredible gray areas while believing that black and white also exist.

I and my book are indebted to you.

Teenage Creativity

differentLast week, I shared about some of my creative childhood activities.  Today, I want to tell you about the (strange but) creative things I did while I was a teenager.  To truly understand some of these things, you have to remember that I grew up in a small town of about 700.  My class had about 70 people in it.

1. Question Book.
I carried around a regular old spiral-bound notebook, and inside it, on each page was a question.  Some were silly, some were interesting, some were huge (are people inherently good or evil?), and I passed it around in my classes, where people would add their responses and read those from others.  I loved looking through the pages and seeing all the opinions, especially when written conversations (or arguments) would take place right inside my notebook.

2. Memory List.
In sixth grade, I wrote down a half-page of things I wanted to remember about the Kimball High School class of 2000’s elementary years.  In seventh grade, I brought it to school, and word got out, and people started asking to read it.  When I got my list back, people had added their own memories to it, so I typed them up at home.  For the next five years, I’d bring a copy of the memory list to school for a couple days each year, circulate it around my grade, letting people add to it.  Upon our graduation, it was probably 12 pages long.  There is a copy of it in my dad’s safe-deposit box, and I hope my class will do something with it for a future reunion.

3. Thank You List.
I made a list of every person in my grade.  Across the top of the page, I wrote THANK  YOU, and next to each name I wrote one thing I was grateful to that person for.  I hung it up on my locker  during class one morning, and it was so fun to later find a big group of people huddled around it, looking for their names.  People said things to me that day like, “I didn’t know anyone even cared about that thing I do!” or “I had no idea that was important to you.”  Loved it.

4. Imaginary Organizations.
My poor, dear, delightful high school friends were subjected to my strange imagination.  I created a fake band for us (Tempest Pixy), including a theme song and stage names for each of us (my favorites were Chizel Smithbanger and Hexron Davis).  We also had a fake “Russian Spy Ring” where I assigned fake foreign names to each of my “spy” friends.  I should clarify, most of us were in the RSR, but we did also have Spanish, German, and Japanese arms to the group as well.  (Do you think I’m insane yet?)  In our senior yearbook, I even “bequeathed” presidency of the RSR to my friend’s younger brother, whom I had forced into the RSR.

5. Soap Opera.
Yup, I wrote one for a while.  It was about a group of friends from Sunnyside High who were dealing with little things such as AIDS, teenage pregnancy, love triangles, motorcycle accidents, and long-lost twins reuniting.  I’d write a couple scenes, pass it around among friends, and when the notebook returned to me, I’d write a few more.

During these years, I was also writing a lot of stories and poems (bad ones).  I had so many ideas, and I rarely saw stories all the way through to completion.  Can you tell what a strange kid I was?  And yet, I had amazing friends who loved me, loved my creativity (most of the time), and who thought I was smart and hilarious.  Again, it’s not hard to see how I became a writer, is it?

Bonus– my friends and I also did “gut checks.”  We live in a place that happens to have quite a few, um, murder sites and, um, “haunted” locations, so we would scare ourselves silly by visiting these places.  My dear friend Dustin would tell stories about children with glowing eyes coming out of the weeds, and then he’d turn off the car lights and slam on the brakes and we’d all scream, even though we’d just done the same, tame thing the weekend before.

How about you?

Random 5 Friday is a weekly meme over at A Rural Journal.

Amalgamation

writingI took a quiz, one that will supposedly analyze my writing and tell me what famous writer my style is most similar to.  I don’t put a lot of stock in it because I did it three times and got three different writers, including Chuck Palahniuk, Dan Brown, and Cory Doctorow.

So, which writers do I especially want to write like?  Great question.

I want to have the lyrical quality of Jandy Nelson and Peter Beagle and Leif Enger.

I want characters like those created by Melina Marchetta.

I want to raise thought-provoking questions just like John Green.

I want catch-your-breath imagery like C.S. Lewis and Markus Zusak.

And I want to command the senses the way Erin Morgenstern does.

Your turn!

Childhood Creativity

(First of all, the new students move in at the University of Northwestern in the morning– hooray!  A year’s [sometimes two!] worth of work parades in front of us today, and it’s fun and exciting and campus will be buzzing with teenagers embarrassed of their parents and about to meet their new best friends!)

childartistToday, for Random 5 Friday, I wanted to share with you some of my creative endeavors of childhood.  Next Friday, I’ll tell you about my high school exploits!

1. Story Society.
My sister Kristin, our childhood neighbor Amber, and I formed loads of clubs, but the best idea we ever had for one was the Story Society, which sadly was quite short-lived.  We had a clubhouse (a room in one of the sheds on our farm), which I painted.  Kristin and I went in there just last month, and one wall still says, “Story Society”; another, “Expanding our Imagination”; the third, a freehand castle with just one window lit up.  We were each supposed to write one story a week, then read it aloud at our club meeting and critique it for each other.  I remember my first story was this melodramatic piece about a jealous best friend who ended up shooting her friend’s boyfriend with a bow and arrow– only the friend jumped in front of her boyfriend, and the arrow pierced both their hearts.  Awesome, right?

2. Glamour Shots.
Kristin, Amber, and I wanted to do our own version of the beautiful Glamour Shots that adults sometimes did, so we raided the dress-up trunk and took *glamourous* (read: hilarious and awkward) photos with a disposable camera.  I distinctly remember choosing outfits Claudia Kishi of the Babysitters Club would wear.

3. Library.
You’re starting to see the roots of my current writerly nerdiness, aren’t you?  Well, how about this: one of the “games” we played was called Library.  Amber would haul some of her books down to our farm, Kristin and I would add ours in, and we’d lay them out on the deck stairs before each choosing one and then … reading.  (Let’s be honest, all I ever really wanted to do when I was a kid was just read uninterrupted.)  Amber had naughtier books than we did (i.e., books where girls and boys kissed), so that was a total bonus.

4. So many plays.
I wrote them.  Kristin, Amber, my brother Kevin, our friends Brandi and Tina, and I would act them out.  Most of these illustrious scripts have now vanished, but we do have one play (on rollerskates!) recorded on video.  It’s about rollerskating Olympics, and I was the star.  Of course.

5.  Mysteries.
For my sister and her friends, I would create these elaborate mysteries that they would then be tasked to solve.  Again, it was writing.  I’d set the scene for them, and then there would be a series of clues– some that would seem to incriminate various characters and some that (sneakily) exonerated them.  If you were to process all the clues together, you could come up with the culprit.  After everyone guessed, I’d read the true answer.

So, was I a dork growing up?  Yes.  Do I care?  Not a bit.  Look at how early the seeds of creativity were sown in me!  I’m proud of creative little Jackie Lea.

Random 5 Friday is a weekly meme over at A Rural Journal.