Posts Tagged writing
I know it’s been a while since I have posted anything and for that I am sorry. It appears that now since my Wee Ones are done with school for the summer they require constant entertainment from the first break of dawn until they fall from exhaustion 14 – 15 hours later. And you will never guess who is in charge of said entertainment… It’s me! My little ones are like two energizer bunnies hopped up on sugar fighting for attention. Sad to say they get it from me but I wouldn’t change it for the world. “DANCE FOR ME MOMMY!!!”
I’ll only get so much alone time with them before life takes them where they need to go so I will make the most of it. It’s a beautiful thing but it leaves little to no down time. So with summer vacation and an office job over an hour away the few hours of writing I steal in the middle of night before falling asleep on the keys and sending someone an embarrassing email is dedicated to my WIP.
Last night I was writing out a few back stories for a few side characters to go in my book bible when I realized one of them had a whole lot of story of his own. So I ended up starting a novella for him. It just flowed onto my screen and I’ll tell you this… it felt great. It connects smoothly to the original manuscript, adding another layer on its bones. Hopefully my Beta’s will agree.
The original MS is on its second go around with the Beta’s. I plan on having the novella finished by the time my Beta’s are done with the original story so they can continue seamlessly, if they choose to. Hell, they may never want to talk to me again. Wish me luck!
Oh crap, they found me! Hide-n-Seek only lasts so long. Gotta go.
There was an article recently in the Wall Street Journal under their Bookshelf column called:
Darkness to Visible,
Contemporary fiction for teens is rife with explicit abuse, violence and depravity. Why is this considered a good idea?
The link is here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702303657404576357622592697038
After reading the article I was so disheartened that I wanted to speak out but the small keys on my handheld weren’t big enough to help express how angry the article made me. I had to wait to break out the big keyboard. BAM! HERE I AM!
The article opens with a mother of 3 who goes to a bookstore to purchase a book for her 13 year old. She is so overwhelmed by the darkness on the Young Adult shelves that she leaves the store with nothing. That right there tells me she didn’t look hard enough. Anyway the article continues by attacking a few Young Adult books currently on my shelf for their dark or graphic approaches.
I wish my young adult life was full of rainbows and ponies but it wasn’t. My teen years consisted of living in teen shelter’s (2 stints at 30days a piece), baby shelter’s when my time at the teen shelter’s was exhausted and then finally a couple foster homes until I was 18. This happened because the child care system was trying to “help/protect me”. Protection is scary. I’ve seen life’s many faces and I will tell you, it’s dark and can get really graphic really fast.
Today I am a wife, a mother of two beautiful wee ones, an insurance agent by day (again seeing some not so pretty things) and a writer.
As a mother I talk to my children every day and encourage them to talk to me. I remind them regularly that they can speak to me about anything and right now they do. I hope to keep this open communication active as they grow older into their teen years and beyond. The funny thing about teens/young adults is that they will only approach you if you are approachable. How do I know this? I was a teen. Yes, I said it. I was a teen. I swear it! I even have papers to prove it!
One of the worst feelings I remember from my teen years was the isolation of dark situations. Is every home like mine? What if I’m the reason everything is so bad? Is there something wrong with me? What if someone finds out, will everyone hate me? Am I a freak?
YA books deal with everyday situations and help our children understand that they are not alone in their darkness and that there can be light at the end of their tunnels. It also teaches compassion and understanding for those who are faced with overwhelming circumstances.
Young Adult books can open the lines of communication and makes topics more approachable with their peers and at home, but only if you are willing to listen. If you condemn these real life everyday topics you will isolate the real everyday children dealing with them. They may not be your children but it could be one of their cousin’s, friends or classmates that chose your child as the person to confide in. Knowing that you are closed off to such topics do you think your child will bring the situation to you for help? Probably not. And then what? You yell and scream that these things should not be discussed, so should someone dealing with one of these problems be ashamed or even quiet? No!
If you go through life with blinders on you’re bound to hit something, HARD! Don’t force these blinders on your children because you won’t always be there to keep them in place. Instead support and listen to your children and stop condemning those who are not affraid to approach and shine a light on such real and difficult topics.
One of the books attacked was by Jackie Morse Kessler the brilliant author of Rage. Follow the link to see her fantastic response http://tinyurl.com/3pfjfo9
Your present circumstances don’t determine where you can go: they merely determine where you start.
“Who motivates you?” “Who is your inspiration?” most people will give the positive answer. Something pretty and well thought out, polished and maybe even rehearsed. But would it be truthful?
Inspiration is not always pretty.
I like to bounce around in blogs and see what’s going on, what other authors and people are talking about in the writing world. Sometimes I comment but most of the time I don’t. It’s not that I do not want to but because some of the commentors are so strong on their stance on grammar that I always fear that I may put a comma in the wrong place and instantly be judged. For life. Blackballed. It’s an awful feeling.
I love to tell stories but sometimes my grammar is not the best that it could be. Am I working on that? Yes. But for now it is still a work in progress. When working around a rotating swing shift schedule and little one’s it’s a little harder than just taking a course.
Anyway…What I have found in my bouncing around are more and more people who say they can not truly respect someone who does not read for entertainment. And yes, everyone is entitled to their opinion and my opinion is that I don’t agree.
One of my biggest inspirations in life was my birth mother. She still to this day can not read. Knowing this as a child I read everything I could get my hands on because I did not want to be her (See, not so pretty inspiration). This lead to my love of reading and (a little further down the line) writing.
I know other people who do not find reading enjoyable because of the frustration’s of Dyslexia, A.D.D. or sometimes it’s just not encouraged or easily accessible.
I was raised in a household where english was a second language (until we got older) and funding was tight (food before books). Day-to-day living was about survival not dreaming. I was lucky enough that the Philadelphia school systems encouraged independent reading. They would actually hold a book fair once or twice a year where you could go to the library, hand in your ticket and get a free book. It was beautiful.
I always picked fiction books. My real life was hard enough without having to read someone elses troubles. Do you know how terrible it is that after reading someone’s heart wrenching/tragic auto-biography you look at the book and think “That’s it. Cry baby.” Let me tell you, you feel like a cold-hearted beast. I feel a little wrong for admitting it now but… I’m being truthful. As a kid this was how I felt.
I would lose myself in far-away lands with monster’s and hero’s on a daily basis. The second I got my new free book I would start reading and wouldn’t put it down until I was done. I walked home reading (dangerous, I know.) I ate diner reading and would even take my bath reading.
I didn’t grow up wanting to be a writer, that was something I discovered later through my love of reading. The love of reading that developed through my childhood. Inspired by a mother who could not read. My grandmother that raised me who could barely read or speak english but worked like a dog. Close relatives that suffered with ADD or Dyslexia but who have many wonderful talent’s that I do not. Suffering through poverty so bad that there was nothing else to do but read and an enviroment so hostile you prayed to be able to escape if only in your mind through a book.
Inspiration is not alway’s pretty.
I’m off to write!
Neighbor: Hi! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you around. (big bright welcoming smile)
You: I’ve been working on a project. (an awkward smile for your half confession)
Neighbor: What kind of project? (head tilting with curiosity)
You: I’m writing a book. (holding breath because this is the first time you have admitted this to anyone other than a close friend and family member)
Neighbor: Oh (brows connecting in disappointment, big bright smile slowly turning into a frown) What’s it about? (cringing)
You: Young Adult Urban Fantasy (biting the bullet and just going for it)
Neighbor: Uh Oookay. Well, it was nice seeing you again and good luck with that. (quick smile and turn to hurry to back to their side of the fence)
Now they will avoid eye contact with you for the next few days, weeks, months or maybe even years. Your hearts in your throat, your guts feel like they’ve been juiced and your confidence has taken a major dip.
As a newbie writer this could be a very uncomfortable conversation. Your confession to the outside world “YES! YOU ARE A WRITER!”
It’s a hard thing to do especially when someone asks “What do you have out?” and your answer is…”Nothing, yet.”
Don’t let it discourage you. If this is something you love, OWN IT! If you write for yourself or to share with others you are a writer. But don’t forget to actually do the writing. It’s kinda important to the declaration.
I really wasn’t comfortable letting the outside world know what I was doing until I had a finished manuscript, over 300 pages filled with one cohesive thought. Now it was only a first draft but it was a whole first draft and man was that a good feeling. Why did I feel so scared? I don’t know. I’m human. I find it easier to tell people my Grandmother was a wrestler then telling them I write. Trust me, telling people your Grandmother is a wrestler will get you some strange looks and comments.
That’s not a problem anymore. I write. It’s not the only thing I do but it is something I love and who doesn’t like talking about things they love.