I hate missing out on stuff. Because of that, I once arrived late at a retreat with friends: I had over-extended myself to finish a task that later turned out to have had a flexible deadline. I then left that same retreat early so I could catch the first rehearsal of the choir I sang in. I missed nothing that weekend! Except the point: to savor my friends and the retreat.

Now, drawn to the lodestar “Focus” and deliberately not squeezing everything in, I aimed for single-mindedness. To come home from work and write. That’s it.  Forgo time-sucking trips to the library (I who have books practically oozing out of my walls) or to the store, except for produce (I’ve got a terribly well-stocked pantry). Pare down on impromptu long chats with dear neighbor-friends. Cook big pots of soup and oatmeal, let dust bunnies grow to adolescence. Forsake all my usual time dribbles to WRITE.

As I focused and wrote, three inspirational examples played in my mind:

-My friend and neighbor JANE, who just started cello lessons after playing the violin when younger. Now she comes home from work and sneaks to the cello. She plays when she should be starting dinner or doing other mundane tasks.

-LIZZIE, Jane’s daughter, who’s studying the violin herself with wonderful Grandma Ellie. She practices late sometimes, Jane says, and the quality suffers. Yet those mediocre evenings still count. She’s putting in the time, moving forward, cumulatively getting better.

-MOZART. We all know about him–or think we do. He’s the genius who effortlessly produced delightful music, right? According to choreographer and dancer Twyla Tharp (in her amazing book The Creative Habit: what’s any creative person doing without it right next to them, dog-eared from being studied?), “Nobody worked harder than Mozart. By the time he was twenty-eight years old, his hands were deformed because of all the hours he had spent practicing, performing, and gripping a quill pen to compose.”

Frankly, I’d prefer to keep my hands well-shaped. But I desire to come closer to Mozart’s devotion to his craft, Jane’s yearning for her cello, Lizzie’s practicing anyway, anywhen. It’s working. My book is—slowly—advancing. So is my excitement, as I get new insights and ideas to weave into my book. I can hardly wait to read it all. And for you to be able to read it, too.

And now… Excuse me, I have some re-focusing to do. What with longer days, new calls on my time, deciding about summer travels, new job possibilities, I need to remember Jane, Lizzie, and Mozart. To go to my writing as though to a tryst. To write even out of season. To feed my calling in various ways, becoming fully a writer.

Meanwhile, let’s toast all those who inspire us. Who are some who inspire you?

Sabina I. Rascol

www.sabinairascol.com

This is the passage:

Home is, ultimately, that place where we find the peace and harmony that comes from learning to live with the knowledge of our own imperfections and from learning to accept the imperfections of others. Such a place, such a home, can exist in various settings, but its ultimate foundation rests jointly within self and within some group of trusted others. Some places are more conducive to this experience than others. But wherever and whenever we do attain that sense of “being-at-home,” we experience a falling away of tensions, a degree of balance between the pushing and pulling forces of our lives. In such a place, we cease fighting—most importantly, we can cease fighting with ourselves. We find the space to be the imperfect beings that we are, and we discover that in such a space, we also become able to let others be who they are.

I realized that our critique group has become a sort of home for me personally and as an artist and writer. We literally share our imperfect work and our imperfect selves with each other. We are striving together to become great writers, great artists, and great people but there is an implicit acknowledgement and acceptance that we are not perfect. If we and our work were perfect, why would we bother meeting?

So what does this mean for you and your critique group? I don’t know exactly. But I think it has something to do with celebrating the imperfection of writing, the imperfection of critiquing, and the imperfection of being human.

Welcome home.

ScrivaLiz

The Ommegang reenactment in Brussels, Belgium

Earlier this month, I wrote about finding unusual ways to fund research for our novels-in-progress and about my experience using Kickstarter.com.  I’m happy to report that through the help of Kickstarter, I received over $1800 in pledges, and I will be able to go to Belgium at the end of June to research and attend the Ommegang- a  reenactment of Charles V’s progress into Brussels in 1549!

I am very excited about having the chance to really enrich my novel and humbled at the same time.  Through this fundraising experience, I’ve been able to connect and talk with some amazing astronomers and scientists, many of them female  (women and astronomy being one of the themes in my book), lovers of historical fiction, art enthusiasts, people of Flemish descent, other writers, and people who simply wish to help another struggling artist pursue his/her dream with either words of encouragement, a small pledge, offers of places to stay in Brussels and Bruges, translator services, tour guides, babysitting (from friends and family of course), etc.

Sometimes a writer can wonder what the point is to his/her work.  Will the world really care if this book ever gets finished and published?  I care, and my critique group definitely cares, but after that, sometimes I fall into the trap of feeling like maybe my story just isn’t needed in the world, especially when I have the pressing needs of being a mom, wife, and teacher burying my need to write my story.  But now, I have an additional 36 people who have actually given small donations (on and off Kickstarter.com) and something like an additional 40 + who have offered amazing words of encouragement and emotional support.

Add them together, plus my wonderful critique group, family, close friends, other supportive writers, and you get this blanket of support and encouragement surrounding me on all sides.  I feel like I have my own little cheerleading section, my own line of “story soldiers” ready to stand with me when the going gets tough, when the words won’t come, and life gets in the way.  Ready to say, “You can do it!  We believe in you!  We want this story to be told!”

Wow.

It’s an awesome feeling.  A humbling feeling.

I think we all as writers need our own “cheerleading section” and our own army of “story soldiers.” It doesn’t take many, just a few, to really help us keep going– to make us feel like our stories really matter, and that they deserve to be in the world.

I will try my hardest to make them proud.

And then there is the staggering success of The Hunger Games movie. Best-ever opening weekend. Already surpassed grosses for all the Twilight movies combined. I went to my very first midnight opening and was amazed to see hundreds of grown people standing in line for 5 hours. For a movie. On a school night!

What is going on? Why are these movies suddenly so popular, with adults as well as kids? I think it is the same reasons YA novels are so popular right now, with adults as well as kids:

Today’s YA novels are incredibly well-written AND incredibly fun to read.

Soon after the Oscars I came across a great piece in the New York Times that eloquently expressed my feelings about why YA is sweeping the nation (and the Oscars). Lev Grossman, book critic for Time Magazine, wrote an op ed that’s title says it all: “Nothing’s Wrong with Strong Plot and Characters.” In the article he admits to being in a YA-only book group (another trend I’m noticing these days) and lays out some ways that today’s YA novels are different from adult literary fiction:

1. YA novels tend toward strong voices and clear, clean prose. Adult literary fiction, by contrast, can be more focused on style: dense, descriptive prose, full of carefully observed detail, which calls attention to its own genius rather than urging the reader forward.
2. YA novels focus on storytelling. Much of adult literary fiction, on the other hand, explores ways to break down storytelling, fragment it and make it non-linear. This kind of reading demands a lot of work from the reader.
3. YA novels are rarely boring. They are written to grab your attention and hold it.

These are the same reasons I believe so many people, young and old, are flocking to see YA movies these days. The stories are great. The characters are great. The themes are meaningful. And they are not boring to watch.

Grossman ends his piece with a sentiment that pretty much sums up why I love reading YA so much (and by extension, going to YA movies as well):

“I’m not as young as I once was. At my age, I don’t have time to be bored.”

And for those of you who, like me, love seeing your favorite YA books up on the big screen, you are in luck. The floodgates are open and just about every YA hit I can think of is “in production.” Here’s a short list of what I found on IMDB:

The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Sept. 2012 (starring Logan Lerman from Percy Jackson, and Emma Watson from Harry Potter)

Uglies, Nov. 2012

Incarceron, 2013 (starring Taylor Lautner from Twilight)

The Giver, 2013 (starring Jeff Bridges)

Ender’s Game, 2013 (starring Harrison Ford, Ben Kingsley and Abigail Breslin)

Forest of Hands and Teeth, 2013

Maze Runner, 2013

Divergent, 2015

The Fault in Our Stars (TBA)

However, I was recently reading Alice LaPlante’s book The Making of a Story: A Norton Guide to Creative Writing, and it’s making me re-think the suggestion to “Cut.” She says:

“Then there’s the fact that the kind of advice parceled out during workshops isn’t always appropriate for the stage that a work is in. You may be trying something new that doesn’t work — yet. But a workshop may well decide that a section that isn’t working simply needs to be removed. “Take it out!” is a common phrase heard in workshops. Yet the passage in question, when refined, could become a critical part of the story or essay or novel in question. Just because it isn’t working now doesn’t mean it won’t work in the next draft…or the next…or the next.”

Now, I’ll be asking myself the following questions when I want to suggest “Cut.”

1) What is the writer trying to do here?

2) Does she do it better elsewhere?

3) Do the ideas here just need to be broken up and inserted in other places?

If the information seems completely unnecessary, a suggestion to cut would be in order. But if it is information that is just slowing down the narrative pace or could use rephrasing, that is a better distinction to make for the writer rather than just “Cut.”

As a writer, I’ll also have to think about when I receive the suggestion, rather than just reaching for the delete key. Only you, as the architect of your story, can know if that particular section is really integral to the story as a whole. If anything, LaPlante’s is a good reminder to always be true to your creative vision, to listen to the little protest that might niggle at you when you see “Cut” next to a particular passage in your manuscript. Sometimes, it seems like, no matter how many critiques you receive or creative writing books you read, it is really that little voice that you have to heed the most!

A few weeks ago I went to a teacher training workshop through the Portland Children’s Museum called, “Nurturing the Creative Capacity of Children with Lella Gandini.”  It is part of the “Wonder of Learning” exhibit at the museum which is an exhibition of the infant-toddler centers and preschools of the Instituzione Municipality of Reggio Emilia in Italy.

The work and learning displayed by the children of Reggio Emilia was awe-inspiring.  Here is a description of the philosophy from Wikipedia.

“The Reggio Emilia Approach is an educational philosophy focused on preschool and primary education. It was started by Loris Malaguzzi and the parents of the villages around Reggio Emilia in Italy after World War II. The destruction from the war, parents believed, necessitated a new, quick approach to teaching their children. They felt that it is in the early years of development that children form who they are as individuals. This led to creation of a program based on the principles of respect, responsibility, and community through exploration and discovery in a supportive and enriching environment based on the interests of the children through a self-guided curriculum.”

And here is more from Education.com:

“In Reggio Emilia they don’t lock their view on children, the pedagogue or the learning process. The world and its people are always changing and that’s why they are against set programs and methods. You can work Reggio Emilia-inspired. You cannot copy the way they work in Italy because you have to consider the people, the environment and culture.”

In Reggio Emilia they have a coined expression: “A child has a hundred languages”. They try to unite and develop all these languages; innovation, construction, fantasy, art, music, dance, building, writing, talking, signing, science, body and soul… The multiple languages are used to help children build knowledge and understand the world around them. The natural environment is incorporated as much as possible.”

Now you may be wondering, “What does this have to do with writing?”

For me, learning about this early childhood teaching approach is the first time when my “artist self” blended into my “teacher self” seamlessly.  When I am writing, I try to remember all of the senses in my scenes.  In Reggio-inspired teaching, one tries to nurture all of the senses in children.  ”Joy” and “Wonder” are key components in these classrooms, and I always want to convey a sense of joy and wonder in my writing.

Young children in these classrooms use the arts to express themselves, and in Reggio classrooms, the use of symbolic languages is encouraged.  As it says in Wikipedia:

“As children proceed in an investigation, generating and testing their hypotheses, they are encouraged to depict their understanding through one of many symbolic languages, including drawing, sculpture, dramatic play, and writing. They work together toward the resolution of problems that arise.”

I absolutely love how the arts in these classrooms are so central to the children’s learning. Sometimes, with today’s cuts in librarians, art teachers, music teachers, etc…, the arts are becoming virtually non-existent in children’s lives.  And children really do have “a hundred languages” that they express themselves with.  One of my languages is my writing, and one of my goals is to help children find their own languages to express themselves, too.

Here is a poem from Loris Malaguzzi that describes these languages, and I will be shocked if it doesn’t touch your soul reading it.  I know it touched mine.  It is something we as writers for young people should always remember about children, since they are our primary audience.

Enjoy.

Here are a few of my favorite bits of advice:

• I write fiction for lots of reasons. One is power. I’m in charge when I write. So are you. You create the world of the story. You make the rules.
• When you start writing a story, all the beginning needs to do is to get you into the story…. When you finish the story and go back to revise it, your beginning is likely to change.
• A story’s plot is mostly determined by character.
• So what makes the difference between caring and not caring? The author’s cruelty. And the reader’s sympathy. We keep turning the pages because we are worried…. Well, it takes a mean author to write a good story.
• Don’t worry about making your main character change. Just be aware that she should, and the awareness will seep into your writing.
• I tell myself I’m going to write down stupid options as well as excellent ones. I write down the stupid ones because they are brave. This sounds crazy, but it’s true. Whenever I start a list, my stupid ideas surge forward, but the usable ones hang back. They’re shy, and they want to see how the stupid guys are treated. When they see me behave respectfully to the dopes, they tiptoe out into the open. I snag them and write them down, too.
• [I] phrase what I’m stuck on as a question…on a Post-It and slap it up on my office door. Then I do my best to forget about it. Meanwhile, the back of my mind goes to work. Three hours or three days later the answer arrives.
• Do not bend your story to accommodate your brilliant words. Revising and cutting take courage and self-confidence. You have to believe that you will write equally brilliant prose again.
• Let writing be your solace, your companion, your secret joy.
• Write to nurture yourself.
• Write to tell us about being you.
• Write to tell us about being human.
• There can never be too many stories. Add to the reservoir.

And, yes, here’s a bit of Levine’s advice on the critiquing process:

• Just as you’ll become a better writer with practice, so you’ll become a better critic.

Amen to that. Every time I go to a Scrivas meeting, I remind myself that giving an excellent and thoughtful critique is a learned skill, and I’m still learning.

Sometimes, a writer needs to “reach for the stars” and go outside her comfort zone in order to find the funds to research a book.

Most, if not all, novels demand some type of research. Whether it comes from mining your brain for memories of events or things that you have seen and wish to use in your story, feelings you have had that your characters need to feel, jobs that your characters have that you know nothing about or need more details about, settings that you want but either have never experienced or need more accurate details about, etc…

Historical Fiction is no exception.  Heck, it may very well be the queen of research novels.  (I know, non-fiction and fantasy and all other genres need a lot of research too, but they are another blog post.)

My middle grade novel, MERCURY’S DAUGHTER, tells the story of a Flemish girl with a love of science and the stars who struggles to find her place in her world, all while trying to free her astronomer father who has been arrested for heresy.   During this historical period of persecuting scientists and when women were not allowed to openly study science, the main character explores her fascination with the heavens in secret.   The story takes place in 16^th century Bruges and Brussels in what is now modern-day Belgium, though at the time it was part of the Spanish Netherlands, and is the type of book that takes a lot of research to complete.

I know what it’s like to be knee deep in Dutch cookbooks of the 16^th century just to see what my characters would eat, then actually attempt to make something and eat it just to experience it even more (Yes, I made a 16^th century apple pie shaped like a fish, and it tasted surprisingly like the old McDonalds apple pies of my youth.).  I know what it’s like to read volumes about astronomical instruments and print color copies of art by Pieter Bruegel for inspiration about daily life in Flemish towns.  To contact scholars who can read and speak Middle Dutch to ask them how to say, “Good morning” and learn about the titles people of 16^th century Flanders used for one another.  To really, really, really know the joys of Google Books, WorldCat, and universities that have actually scanned primary source documents so that I can print out a book about the constellations and planets written in the 16^th century that my main character would have loved and read over and over and have it “in my hand” just the way she did– or the closest I can get to the way she did.

I am not a writer who waits for my research to be done before I begin to type.  I write as I go, always discovering more research that needs to be done.  Yet, after all of this, I find that in order to truly get the voice, the details, the daily life questions, and the rest of the novel finished to my satisfaction, I must take a journey to Belgium.  And that journey costs money that with the economy in a recession, my family does not have.

I know it is possible to write about a place you have never been to or have been very briefly to.  My visit to Bruges in November seven years ago was for one day, with a baby in tow and a story in its first inklings in my mind, with small amounts down on paper.  Brussels was three days—a little better—but not enough to see what I now know I needed to see for my novel.  I thought it could very well be enough, though.  Many writers do just fine having never set foot in their settings.  But I am a  “hands-on” type of writer, one who revels in the sensory details of a place and an event, and though I have researched tirelessly about my setting and the events that take place in my story, I know it would help my novel if I could actually walk in my characters’ shoes properly.  When I finally realized that I needed one more trip to Belgium by myself to focus on my research for a few days, the recession had hit my family hard, and I felt it was too late.

Last year, I attended an inspiring lecture about research from Oregon’s own YA author Emily Whitman (Radiant Darkness and Wildwing ) Together in small groups, Emily had us brainstorm about ways we could really do more “hands-on” type of research if money was no object.  I had heard about a 16^th century historical reenactment in Brussels called the Ommegang that happened every year at the beginning of July and had dreamed of experiencing it.  Not only was it the largest historical reenactment in all of Europe, but it depicted Charles V and his court visiting Brussels in 1549, an event pivotal to my novel.  I knew attending this event as well as talking to some experts in person about daily life would really enhance my story, but money really was an object in the way. Emily had mentioned trying to “crowd source” the funds (asking friends, family, and others interested in your story to help fund with small donations), but I didn’t feel confident about that, so I hesitated to try it.

Grants can be a fabulous resource, if you can get one.  I had applied for a WIP grant from SCBWI previously and received a “Letter of Merit.”  Earlier this year I applied for a regional grant, only to be asked to definitely reapply the next quarter, which would be in October and three months after the Ommengang.

Maybe there was something to that “crowdsourcing” idea.  When I revisited the idea late this winter, I found the site Kickstarter.com, which is an online pledge system for funding creative projects.  It is a virtual platform where you can describe your project (my book and its research needs) using video, images, and text and ask for “pledges”.  You also must provide your “backers” with a gift that stems from or is inspired by your work.  A time limit must be allotted for a project to be funded as well.  If it is not funded, all monies go back to the original backer without any loss.

I decided to give it a try, and after creating a page, I allotted 35 days to fund the project.

I am an introvert when it comes to sharing about my writing projects when I am in the middle of them, so attempting Kickstarter is a HUGE leap for me.  So far, after writing to friends, family, and writing acquaintances about the project, I sent letters to mostly female and some male astronauts, members of the Belgian/Flemish, and Dutch groups around the world, and members of reenactment groups.  What has surprised me is how exciting it is to see letters from so many of them in my email box almost daily with good wishes and how my story touched them already in one way or another.  Yes, even over five hundred years later, female astronomers have it much harder over men!

So far, with 11 days left to fund my project, what I have learned the most is how much everyday people without big budgets or non-profits to work with really do care about keeping the arts alive.  In these recession days, they are really doing something about it.   And that is a good thing.

Today, my four-year-old said this while painting at his easel this afternoon.

“Look mommy!  I’m story paining!  You know, like the girl with the animals.  (Beatrix Potter)”

My hope is that an avenue like Kickstarter.com, a grant or fellowship, or whatever means necessary will help you to complete your research to give you the ability to “story paint” the heck out of your novel!

To check out my Kickstarter site, go to http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1911476635/mercurys-daughter-a-middle-grade-historical-novel

Happy writing!

-Nicole Marie Schreiber

www.nicolemarieschreiber.com

www.nicolemarieschreiber.wordpress.com

That was fun! So I continued, with the “Rear” view:

Tee Hee.

ScrivaLiz

Now what?

I’ve posted about this before, but I thought you might be interested in the specifics of this revision.  The Angel Punk novel is 95K words (~375 pages) and 53 chapters as of the end of the current draft.  It’s told from five different points of view.

Step 1:  Read through all the notes and summary critiques from Scrivas.

Step 2:  Make a list of major issues (7 in all), consistency issues between the book and the movie and comics (3), list of medium priority issues (12 in all), and minor issues (lots)

Step 3:  Biggest issues to deal with include (a) MCs motivations, (b) her history with the other characters, (c) timing of the introduction of world-building back story.

Analysis Plan: Read through novel and note when/where every bit of backstory occurs.

Attack Plan: Move up the backstory even if this involves rearranging/combining chapters.  Use this opportunity to include more of what the MC is thinking and feeling about her past and the people around her.

Step 4:  Repeat for other major issues followed by medium ones.

Step 5:  Go through and incorporate line edits from Scrivas.

Step 6:  Read all chapters for the same POV character in sequence.  Fix voice and plot consistency.

Step 7:  Read through all and add sensory details whenever possible.

Step 8:  Use “find” function to search for words/phrases that I know I overuse.

…  And do it all in the next two weeks.  Wish me luck!