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Category Archives: creativity
Seven Friends
We were supposed to make promises,
let our tongues taste commitment
and then say things aloud.
But the afternoon sun made us lazy,
lying on the warm wood of that dock,
while one—I think it was you—
dragged a reed through the waters,
that slick rip the only noise.
We were sixteen, seventeen, and
thought we’d already made our plans,
imagined the future was our own.
Seven of us that summer, and the next,
only two.
You and I made awkward conversation,
their absences throbbing like wounds
between us as we wished for that day
on the dock, when—given another chance—
we would have found our voices.
Hope Begins in the Dark
I love when my worlds collide. This quote from Anne Lamott’s brilliant book Bird by Bird can be seen through every lens of this blog: faith, OCD, creativity. Here’s the full quote:
“I heard a preacher say recently that hope is a revolutionary patience; let me add that so is being a writer. Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.”
Fiction: How I Start
Not that you should necessarily take writing-life advice from me. Perhaps you ought to listen to Jo Rowling and spend seven years plotting. But this it the irrational, backward way I start a new story.
1. I have a tiny idea. Teenaged wards of the state in hospice care. That’s nowhere near a full-blown idea, let alone a plot, but it’s enough. Just a tiny idea is all I need. But I have to love it, have to want it.
2. Characters. Whatever-this-is-going-to-be is going to be nothing without a handful of characters. I start with names and photos, which I find by scouring the internet until angels start singing. Again, this seems backward, doesn’t it?
Yes, I think. Her name will be Macaulay, and she will go by Mack. And this will be her.
That’s fascinating, I think. She has purple hair. I didn’t know that. Now I do.
Repeat this process for the others. Meanwhile, little snippets of their conversation start to play out in my mind, and I write them down. Save them for later.
3. Research– but only a little bit. There will probably be a lot more research to come, and a lot of things will change, so I don’t want to put too much time into this upfront, nor do I want to be too committed to what I learn. So I poke around and find what these teenagers in hospice care might be dying from. I talk to my friends who work in the medical field and in hospice care, and I learn a little bit. This keeps making the characters more and more real in my head. I keep thinking of their conversations, and I keep jotting them down.
4. Sink or swim. I dive in and write a terrible first draft, reminding myself every ten minutes that it is only a first draft and that first drafts are, by nature, going to be terrible. I remind myself that I will revise the hell out of it later, but that there is nothing to revise until it is written.
5. I learn the story as I go. I take that handful of characters I’ve created, and I put them in my hands, shake them up and then toss them into a room– or, you know, a hospice center– together and see what happens. I’m as fascinated to find out what they’re planning as the next person is.
6. Later on, I revise. Only after it’s written do I really understand what I was trying to say with the story– and, let’s be honest, it probably wasn’t me trying to say anything.
Your turn. How do you start a story? Do you plan and plot, or do you just dive in? Where do you begin?
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.
P.P.S. I won the contest.
P.P.P.S. Read “Covered Up Our Names” here.
Love in the form of Story
One of the ways I experience God’s love is in my enjoyment of story.
Does that make any sense?
What I mean is that when I lie awake in bed at night with ideas, characters, and stories tripping capriciously through my mind, I feel like God’s beloved. When I read incredible writing that makes my brain fizz and my fingers itch, I feel confident that God is good and that He loves me deeply. Why else would he offer me something so unfathomably beautiful?
Beauty, period. Why invent loveliness, color, sound, except out of sheer grace?
And for me, story. The delight of it all is like a resting place.
Foot in the Fire
FOOT IN THE FIRE
It shocks you, this moment,
when the priority of truth
flies over the chair and out the door,
trumped by purpose and wonder.
But the sky above is proof you get it all:
truth, reason, and the blazing sentinel stars.
Markus Zusak on being a writer
I love it anyway.
On the writing front …
I thought I’d give you all a little update on what I’ve been up to, creativity-wise.
I just attended a children’s and YA writing conference. It was held right here in Minneapolis, so I thought I’d take advantage of its being local, and I’m so glad I did. The keynote speakers (husband-and-wife team David Small and Sarah Stewart spoke on Saturday, and Donna Bray of Balzer + Bray, an imprint of HarperCollins spoke on Sunday) were all absolutely incredible. I also attended four classes, including one on Sex and YA Literature, which I think I’m going to blog about soon.
I have a draft of my novel that is ready for line edits. I will be working with Ben again, the same editor I’ve been working with since last Christmas. At the time, I blogged about how risky it was for me to purchase that mentorship, but I am so glad to report that it was MORE than worth it!
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.
I started another new short story just this week. This one is about two half-sisters, Fightest and Lou, and, in the words of Judy Hougen, I’m writing till I know.
I am trying my hand at short works of poetry and flash fiction. It’s helping me to keep limber while I wait to dive back into novel work.
I have put hours upon hours of research into creating a list of agents to query. My list is about 80 deep. I am so hoping that someone in that group will take an interest in my manuscript– but who knows? No matter what, I will not stop writing.
I have been researching hooks and re-drafting my query letter like crazy. The query letter is proving to be more difficult than writing the novel itself– and far less enjoyable. The “hook” is a short sentence that is intended to pique the interest of the reader; it’s usually the tagline on the front of the novel. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything more difficult to write.
Plus blogging, always blogging …
Royalty
ROYALTY
Autumn in the year
we turned sixteen,
we met at midnight
in a field of white crocuses.
The darkness was deep
but perforated.
It was August,
and we were in love—
the two of us royalty,
the stars at our feet.
Words I Love
He paused, then said, “Gahhh, I love the word crux. How could anyone not love that word?”
I giggled.
He continued, “The word even looks like what it is, like this important little block, this core.”
“Mmm,” I said in agreement. “How about cavalier? Rolls right off your tongue.”
“Applause,” he said.
“Callous.”
“Archaic.”
“Valor,” I said. “Doesn’t it just make you want to storm a castle?” I pushed up my sleeve. “Look, I have goosebumps!”
Other favorites:
intrepid
sentinal
civic
rogue
What are yours?
JACKIE LEA SOMMERS 