Newbie Writing Mistakes Monday--OBEY THE AGENCY RULES

I wanted to do this series as a vlog, but since I have no clue how to rig that up, for now, I'll use my words.

Mistakes...if you're anywhere along this writing road, you've made some. I've made quite a few. Today, I just wanted to talk about one newbie mistake that should be quite self-evident.

Don't ignore the guidelines of the agency you're querying.

There was a recent post at Steve Laube's blog about this, http://stevelaube.com/why-do-i-have-to-jump-through-your-hoops/.

When I first started querying, I laughed in the face of danger. More like, I laughed in the face of agency guidelines. If they'd ask for a mere query, I'd think What's wrong with sending them the first chapter, pasted along with my query? After all, that first chapter is KILLER. Shoot, why don't I just send those first three chapters? That'll blow their socks off.

WRONG. Problem is, some agents won't even open a document that has a bunch of stuff pasted into it. Query-length stuff, yes, but not those first chapters.

And what about those agencies that requested a proposal, along with your initial query e-mail?

Since I wasn't quite sure that my make-shift proposal looked right, I'd just send the query and sample chapters. I figured that once the agents took my writing prowess seriously, they'd beg to see that proposal. At that point, I would grant them access to my (feeble attempt at a) proposal.

And synopses!? Don't get me started. Somewhere I'd read online that a synopsis could be six pages. Which turned into about twelve pages, double-spaced. I give kudos to any agent who managed to sludge through that lengthy attempt at capturing every last one of my lovely characters, even the not-so-important ones.

(Hint--For your synopsis, just focus on those MAIN characters, since the MC and his/her closest peeps are the ones we'll be following through your book).

I wish I could say that I'm now a querying/editing/writing expert, but for goodness' sake, I learn something new almost every day of this arduous writing journey.

But please save yourself some newbie time and trouble by following, to the best of your ability, those agency guidelines. Agents will notice your respect for their requirements--after all, they've put some thought into the exact things they want to see from you (and *understatement of the year*, each agency is unfortunately very different!).

They might not find your MC "compelling" or your storyline "something they can represent at this time," but at least they'll see that you're willing to work with guidelines to get your stuff out there.

***Have any of you, my faithful followers, blatantly (or inadvertently) ignored agency guidelines? Did it work out for you or not?

Guest Blogger--DE JACKSON--Scribbling in the Margins (Of Life)

I am so excited to introduce my guest blogger today, I can hardly contain myself. I found De's blog when I wrote my tritina poem for the Writer's Digest blog. De's poems were knock-your-socks off incredible. I'm picky about poets, having an affinity for Emily Dickinson, Theodore Roethke, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and many others since college. And I'd put De right up there with those heavy-hitters, folks.

Here's an introduction to a poet you're going to want to read!

De Jackson wanted to be a PoetPiratePrincess when she grew up, but is (mostly) happily settling into the role of Mom/Freelance Writer. (Some days that slash cuts deeper than others.) When she’s not busy raising a budding Bug Scientist and a Dancer-Singer-Songwriter (10 and 9, and spaced just 16 months apart), she writes advertising copy, runs gleefully with scissors, plays well with poems…and has also penned a couple of children’s books that need a little magic fairy dust to find illustrator and publisher. You can read her poetry at whimsygizmo.wordpress.com

Scribbling in the Margins (of Life)--by De Jackson

Ever feel like the day is specifically designed to make sure you never, ever have any writing time? Like your kids, your family, your day job, your Everest-sized mountains of laundry, your workout schedule, your (insert issue du jour here) are all part of one giant muse-snuffing conspiracy theory? Yup. Me, too.

In addition to all of these…distractions, I’m convinced that my poetic muse is actually a mermaid, and only willingly shows up along the shores of Lake Tahoe or the Pacific Ocean. Since I’m hopelessly landlocked in the middle of Southern Nevada, this is an unfortunate set of circumstances that requires frequent cajoling, pitiful bargaining, and sometimes, ridiculous amounts of caffeine. 

So what’s your Whimsy Gizmo? What gets your muse on the move, your creative juices flowing? Is it nature? Reading the amazing creative works of others? Making sure there’s always a notebook in your car, your purse, your pocket? I’ve got a worn moleskine I fondly call “Parking Lot Poems,” filled with tiny pieces doodled in the few minutes before picking up my kids or heading into an appointment.

Maybe for you it’s regularly meeting with a friend who also writes, or who encourages your writing, and holds you accountable to tangible results. I’m blessed to have several supportive friends, as well as an understanding, creative husband who knows that a writing De is a happy De.

For me, the most effective quill nudging comes in two words: prompts and deadlines. I make sure my creative ‘inbox’ is filled with plenty of inspiration via weekly prompts, and write frequently for sites like Poets United, Flashy Fiction,Poetic Asides (http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides), Poetic Bloomings, dVerse Poets and The Sunday Whirl, among others. I subscribe, so that these little daily challenges come directly to my email inbox, where they can’t be forgotten or ignored.

When I find a Write-Something-Everyday kind of challenge, I join it (River of Stones, Poem-a-Day,Haiku-a-Day). Anything to place a deadline on writing something, anything. If you’re a fiction writer, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) might be for you. But don’t let that be an excuse to wait until November. I find I’m not only my own worst critic, but as a Pro Crastinator of the highest order, also my own biggest hindrance.

These sites also provide two other things I find I need a great deal of as a writer: encouragement and camaraderie. Writing can be a lonely gig. It’s good to know I’m not the only one sitting here staring at the vast white space in front of me, trying to figure out how to coax some words out to dance.

Find away to put some boogie in your writing step today. Buy a new journal. Call a friend. Find a new blog to follow. I’ve been at this thing somewhat seriously now since spring of 2009, and I’m still learning what works for me. I’m also still unpublished, but I’m writing. Almost every day. Sometimes in big, everything-else-can-wait chunks. Sometimes in those tiny little margins. But always with a bright turquoise pen.

(Take that, you stubborn mermaid of a muse.) 

And here are a couple of De's poems--I know you'll enjoy them as much as I did:

  

ink

by de jackson

i am sans serif

10-point type

often italicized

never bold.

i am onion paper

see through

fragile, easily erased

truths untold.

i am words

in margins

scribbled outside

conspicuous lines.

i am ellipses 

rough draft

work in progress

pending approval

…most of all, mine. 

 

Don’t you lick that trash can, young man!
(and other things that should go without saying)

by de jackson

Don’t you lick that trash can,

Young Man!

And don’t paint pudding on your sister.

Don’t pour your milk in the toaster.

Hey, I mean business, Mister!

Don’t put lipstick on the dog, Little Miss.

And don’t give a cockroach a great big kiss.

Don’t pee on the petunias

or wash your hands in the loo.

And if you try to “fly” again

I don’t know what I’ll do.

Also:

Don’t lick your brother.

Don’t kick your mother.

Don’t jump on the couch.

Don’t call Dad a grouch.

Don’t tape the fridge shut.

Don’t put frosting on your butt.

Don’t climb on the living room drapes.

Don’t use my silk blouses as superman capes.

Don’t sled down the stairs.

Don’t shred teddy bears.

And don’t you DARE

Fill my shampoo bottle with Nair.

And don’t say “She’s touching me!”

One more time,

Or I might pull out my hair.

Don’t take a pair of scissors

and give the cat bangs.

Don’t stuff your mouth with real shark teeth

and pretend that they are fangs.

Don’t.

Please don’t.
Seriously?

Just don’t.

“We don’t hit, we don’t spit,

we don’t spy, we don’t lie,

and we don’t feed the baby coconut cream pie.”

As moms, we do say all the crazy things

we swear that we won’t.

To which our little hooligan sweetly replies,

“But Mommy, WHY do we don’t?”

As a parent, maybe it is my job

to say things that others daren’t.

But sometimes I just have to ponder…

shouldn’t SOME things be apparent?

Don’t

get me wrong,

I’m not complaining

a wink

I’m just hypothetically, (frenetically) praying

That before each long day as a parent is through…

I think

some things should just go WITHOUT saying.

Don’t you?

***What’s your Whimsy Gizmo? Share here what works for you! And let's give De a huge round of cyber applause for sharing her writing tips and poems!

Lovely Blog Award

Thank you very much, Donna Martin, at On the Write Track blog, http://www.donasdays.blogspot.com/, for giving me a lovely blog award! So now, I need to tell you seven things about myself and pass this award on to three other peeps with lovely blogs. But before I do, I need to thank my brother for redesigning my blog by adding tabs...you "lovelied" it up considerably. And now, let me think of seven shocking or wonderful things about myself..

1) I thought I wanted to be a vet, until I passed out observing a spaying surgery.

2) I also wanted to be a cop, and enjoyed Criminal Justice camp. Although I love guns, my aim stinks. And so I play Halo, Black Ops and Tomb Raider--I can waste all the ammunition I want that way.

3) I was a nerd in high school because I loved Doctor Who. Now, I see tons of bloggers who love him too.

4) Jeremiah is probably my favorite prophet in the Bible.

5) I was a vegetarian in college.

6) Sometimes I think I could live on bread, cheese, and strawberries.

7) All my life, I've wanted an indoor, underground pool.

And NOW, I shall pass this award on to other lovelies:

Faith Hough: http://faithehough.blogspot.com/
Tracy Jo: http://www.evolvingsoul11.com/
Catherine Denton: http://wingedwriter.blogspot.com/

Please copy the badge on the right-hand of my site and post it on your own blog, tell us seven things about YOU, and then pass the award on to three other deserving bloggers. Oh, and refer back to my blog, if you don't mind! And have fun hopping to these beautiful blogs! Thanks, Donna!

ORIGINS Blogfest...In Which a Poet Morphs into a Book-Writing Mom

For the Origins Blogfest, we're supposed to chronicle our earliest remembrances of our writing superpowers...okay, maybe not superpowers, as you'll quickly find out below.

As you can tell from my monkey bar photo above, I had a highly cerebral childhood! Seriously, though, I was ambidextrous till K-4 (they made me choose), I read a LOT, and I liked phonics. This lent itself handily to my fascination with writing.

My dad went on a business trip and brought me back a chinoiserie (always wanted to use that word), burgundy silk-looking diary. I faithfully scribed all the highlights of my eight-year-old existence into it. Many entries simply said, "Today, Mom made me take a nap again." I also kept detailed lists of all my Christmas gifts, realizing their importance for posterity.

The first time I hit the big-time was in fifth grade, when we had to write an essay titled "A Teacher Is." I won a $25 savings bond and got to read my winning essay on the radio. This would be the exact same essay I whipped up the very morning it was due. I'd written about how our teacher loved us because she disciplined us, perhaps harking back to sermons I'd already internalized about "Whom the Lord loves, He chastens." Or it could've been the fact that I was in a rowdy class and couldn't concentrate unless the teacher pulled rank.

Once I figured out how to type, I amused myself and my family with personally typed newsletters. But I had my epiphany moment after returning from the beach when I was probably eleven or twelve, when I wrote this poem:

As I look at the clouds,
I think of how
The ocean lapped at my feet.
I remember how
The salty water tasted on my tongue.
I remember
The bright moonbeams dancing on the waves.


But all that is gone.
I am looking at a space
Between two trees
That allows me to see
Limitless potential.

The clouds move swiftly on
To new horizons.
I look at them and know
That some other person 
Is looking at them, too.


The golden sunsets,
The red light of dawn
All assure me
That time moves on.

This very poem cinched the deal. I ran over to inform my mom and grandma that I was, in fact, a WRITER! I had been all along--who KNEW?

Fast-forward to my college years, in which I wrote goth stuff (before goth existed!), wore black, and started drinking coffee. I will spare you a lengthy poem, but here's a little glimpse into my mind at that time:

--what is a pessimist?
   am I?
  good night I hope not. 
but optimism is a trivial jeopardy 
--a risk
taken by a blind and ignorant few...

Um....yeah. Moving right along. I won the extemporaneous essay contest my senior year in college, finishing my essay about fifteen minutes before everyone else and turning it in without a backward glance. I like to write fast.

Then I volunteered at a local newspaper, running a popular series called "Of Beds and Breakfasts." It was rather infuriating to discover that my relatively error-free copies had accrued alarming numbers of grammatical and spelling errors when printed, thanks to the editor's changes. 'Nuff said on this particular small-town editor's ability to edit.

After that, I strode into the editor's office at a larger newspaper and convinced him of my writing qualifications. He proceeded to create a job for me covering county news. I'm nothing if not ambitious.

Around this time, I did try my hand at novel-writing. Here's a blip of one of the MYRIAD stories I started:

That one hit.

I stand at my French doors and let the hailstones beat a rhythm into my brain. I remember the last storm--I remember Nicholas. We had been sitting on the front porch, not fearing because we had each other. He had been working on a new song--he sang it to me, loudly, as if to overpower the elements.

"Shattered rainbow
shining in moonlight
luring me inside
your colorless splendor
to the heart of the ocean...
the heart of the storm
the eye of fate."

I had laughed. "What a melodious compilation of nonsense!" He grabbed my arms. His blue eyes were sharp, chastising. "Oriana, this is real. Not nonsense. I sing to nature, for myself, of you."

Yes, the mysterious artist in love with the beautiful girl with an impossibly exotic name...not a new theme there. And I must say that was almost the extent of this story.

Then I got married. My romantically overblown poems and stories stopped, because I had a tangible love now. Someone who accepted me, pessimistic poems and all. I loved marriage and, it turns out, I loved having kids. So then I was a homeschooling mom who happened to write poems as an outlet. They were a bit more disjointed, but here's one I'm still fond of:

West Virginia is 
a hard place to know
It welcomes you with sunlight
And punishes you with snow.
It holds you in its vision
And blinds you with its trees
It shows off its baby birdies,
Then kills them, if you please.
Dogs don't stop to wonder
And I can't stop to care
Because in leaving West Virginia,
I've finally moved in there.

Then the rest is chronicled on this blog. My kids got bigger and more independent. My friend challenged me to write a book in a month for NaNo--and we have established that I like to WRITE FAST. Thus, Otherworld was my first completed novel, though I'd come close a couple of times before. And now I've finished my first historical fiction novel, God's Daughter. I'm getting ready to start on the sequel. And I hope I"m on the cusp of finding my second agent (had one for Otherworld).

I'd love it if you could follow my blog, or at least leave some comments of how your writing journey has paralleled mine (or perhaps diverged greatly!). And let me know I'm not the only person who loves to write poetry (though I rarely share the super-personal stuff, okay?).

Enjoy the blog-hopping!

--Heather
 

Lessons from Homeschooling

Many homeschooling moms/dads will tell you that they've learned a lot by becoming their child's primary teacher. Granted, some lessons will be things along the lines of, "I learned that my child is not fully awake by seven a.m.," or "I learned that my child should NOT drink Mountain Dew during a school day."

But homeschool parents have all learned things we SHOULD have learned in elementary/middle/high school; things like, "Vikings insulated their houses," or perhaps some clever math tricks about the nine times table that would've opened up a whole new score level on our SATs. Or we've discovered books we WISH we could've read as children, like Island of the Blue Dolphins.

I've learned some things in my eight years of homeschooling my illustrious children, but every time I try to write some kind of article about it, it sounds like I know it all. And believe me, I don't. But I've seen things that work and things that don't. I've seen kids who've been homeschooled all the way through high school, and the end result of that schooling. And there is no across-the-board way to classify homeschooled children, just like there's no across-the-board way to classify public or private school kids. So I won't attempt to.

First of all, you're either supposed to homeschool or you're not. Don't try to do it or feel guilted into it if you have a strong HS community and you're not part of it. But don't say I don't have the patience to homeschool. It's a total cop-out, and I've seen no less than three moms who've said that, but eventually homeschooled and LOVED it. Will you need distance from your kids? Sure. But that's what grandparents, friends and activities are for!

Don't worry about socialization--most of the homeschooled kids I know are as involved in (if not MORE involved in) activities than others, because they have more hours in the day to do sports, drama, groups, etc. But watch out for becoming OVER-involved and neglecting the actual schoolwork.

My view was always this: I'm preparing my kids for college. And, as we do this, we have to maintain balance. We have to push, but not so hard that our kids begin to hate us and hate reading/writing, whatever. We know their strengths and weaknesses (just like any parent), and we can work on those weaknesses and bolster those strengths, all the while aiming for the big picture of college/career.

Support is key. If you have questions, go online or find some HS friends and ASK them. Chances are, they've tried that curriculum, struggled with those lonely days, and can recommend resources for you.

Classical, traditional, or unschooling? These are the primary homeschool curriculum choices. I love the classical approach (Susan Wise Bauer), because it makes sense to me. You need the tools, the memorized facts, before you can put them together in meaningful ways. And I love how the classical curricula incorporate CLASSIC books and languages. Do I stick to that? No. I modify what I teach based on the child.

The key is to know for sure what you're doing, why you're doing it, and stand by it unapologetically, until you can't anymore. No one has ever given me any substantial grief over my choice to homeschool. I think they can read it on my face: I know this is right for my kids. But one of my children is in Christian school now. It was the right choice. And I'll stand by that, till things change!

Let's quit fighting about these things and recognize all the teachers who are using their time and energy to encourage learning in kids--homeschool, private or public school. Quit slamming people because you don't understand the choices they made. But be steadfast and determined in your own choices for your kids.


***What about you? Do you homeschool? Would you? What about those teachers you've never forgotten--what did they do right?***

A Classics Challenge--EARTH ABIDES by George R. Stewart

For this month's Classics Challenge, we're supposed to answer questions about a character we found interesting in our classic of choice. I'm going to review Earth Abides, by George R. Stewart, which I would define as an apocalyptic sci-fi classic from 1949.

What phrases has the author used to introduce this character? What are your first impressions of them? Find a portrait or photograph that closely embodies how you imagine them.


The main character in this book has the charming name of Isherwood Williams (nicknamed "Ish"). I love the name--different and memorable without being wacky.

We're thrown into Ish's world in a dramatic way--he's bitten by a snake. We know he's smart, because he immediately knows enough to cut himself and suck the poison out, calming himself so it won't spread faster into his bloodstream.

As the book opens, Ish is a young man in a post-plague world. We follow him from the woods into civilization, where he finds everyone has disappeared or died. We're rooting for him as he discovers what's happened.

The cool thing about Ish is that I pictured him as an average guy with smarts. Not really distinctive in looks, etc. But let's see if I can find a photo of how I pictured him...Okay, this isn't quite perfect, as I pictured someone shorter and somewhat nerdier. But he would've had a beard, from living in the woods for awhile (for his thesis research).

How has the character changed? Has your opinion of them altered? Are there aspects of their character you aspire to? or hope never to be? What are their strengths and faults? Do you find them believable? If not, how could they have been molded so? Would you want to meet them? 


As we get to know Ish, he seems kind of disconnected emotionally. He enjoys watching the world and learning, and is not greatly moved by death. He also toys with the idea of acting as a god to the simple people.

As the book goes on (Ish becomes a dad, ages, etc), I don't appreciate the way he favors one child and neglects his non-cerebral children (all in his attempts to save the human race, of course). But as the book ends, his thoughts shift away from that mentality, as he sees how his wife's simplistic, yet stable views have been more important than his cerebral ones.

Yes, I would want to meet him, and I would've hung out with him if the human race was mostly wiped out by plague!

Try writing a short (four sentences +) note or letter as the character, addressed to you, another character, the author, anyone. 

Dear Emma (his wife),

I wish I would've told you that I couldn't have survived without you. I was ready to give up in this barren new earth we inhabit. You restored faith and humanity to me, and I've always drawn all my strength from your comfort. Sorry I wasn't the leader and example I could've been.

--Yours, 

   Ish