The MFA: Part One

A few months ago I wrote a post about MFAs, specifically on whether or not I would apply for one of the few programs on writing for young people. I ended up applying to four schools, getting into three, and finally accepting a position at Lesley University in Boston (forever known to me as Bostron from my college days). I couldn’t be happier about Lesley. I’m not sure I totally understand what I have signed up for, and might not know until the two years are up, but I can already feel the momentum building underneath me. A literary adventure awaits!

In preparation for the first of five residencies, Lesley and Co. has sent out a list of required/recommended readings for workshops, and then there will be manuscripts to read as well. Having this work at first overwhelmed me. How was I going to tackle it all? But now that I’m engrossed in the reading, my excitement for the endeavor of getting an MFA increases with every assignment I read.  So far I haven’t gotten through that much, but I’ve already applied the readings to my own WIPs (at least mentally). I can’t wait to see how my writing and critical thinking improve through this program.

Lesley’s program appealed me for many reasons, one of which is their interdisciplinary slant. For the first three semesters I’ll take a class in a subject related to, but not necessarily on the craft of, writing. Maybe this will be Creative Writing Pedagogy (a class that would be great if I ever want to teach) or Historical Fiction. I could even develop an independent study specifically for one of my WIPs — like a class on 17th century Surinam for my historical YA manuscript. So interesting! As a generalist in almost all things, the opportunity to learn many different aspects of the craft is very exciting. Though I expect to work closely with my advisors so that I don’t spread myself too thin (one of my habits).

Amidst all this excitement is a good-ol’-fashioned case of stage fright (Book fright?). What if, once I get there, Lesley doesn’t think I’m good enough? <Sigh.> This is normal, at least for me, and I’ll do what I always do in situations that press me. Pretend I’m not scared! It’s not very suave but sooner or later I’ll be in it, doing it, using that strong self-critic to drive my work. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for!

Have you gone through later-in-life schooling or expansion of some kind? Was it harder or easier than you expected?

NaNoWriMo 2012

NaNoWriMo is here again. For those of the uninitiated, NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month, where November is designated as the month to finally write that novel! There are local community get-togethers, helpful posts, trackers, and other online resources. The goal is to write 50,000 words before the last day of November, which means about 1,667 words per day.

Last year, Joanna took on the challenge, and wrote a lovely historical YA novel during NaNoWriMo. She inspired me to try this year.

I’ve adapted the challenge slightly to suit my situation. I generally write picture books and middle grade novels. Middle grade novels are typically 20,000-25,000 words. So to meet the 50,000 word goal this month, I will attempt to write two middle grade novels. Yes, two. Piece of cake, right?

Not quite. Joanna makes it look too easy. If you write your tail off for 30 days, out pops a solid, well thought through draft, right? It’s a little more complicated than that (for me at least).

I have planned the two novels. One is the story of a brother and sister who discover a portal in their hall closet that takes them to 1983. The other novel will be a sequel of sorts to a novel I already have in revision.

So I’ve currently written just over 11,000 words of the first novel. As I expected, the writing ebbs and flows. I participated in PiBoIdMo (Picture Book Idea Month) last year with a similar experience. Some days the words flow and some days they don’t. What I didn’t expect was a somewhat non-linear process.

I wrote from the beginning of my story to the end. I checked my word count- around 10,000 words. Hmmm. So I am now going back and filling out the characters, writing in more conflicts, and ramping up the stakes. But I have this nagging concern in the back of my mind: what if I fill out the story, add in everything I can think of, and I am still short of 25,000 words?

I guess I can only write until there is no more to write, and then put it aside until I finish the second novel.  Amidst family visiting (twice), my son’s sixth birthday, my husband’s <ahem> birthday, Thanksgiving, and Black Friday this month, I have my work cut out for me. I’m sure I will appreciate this in January when I have two novels to work with and revise!

Is anyone else participating in NaNoWriMo this year? Any encouragement or general cheering on would be much appreciated! You can follow my progress at the counter on the right side bar.

One and A Half Yards of Fleece

This past weekend I experienced a rare and somewhat bewildering burst of inspiration. If this burst had had anything to do with writing, I might feel surer about it, excited to run with it. Because isn’t that where I want to direct my creativity? To my manuscripts in revision and to the new ideas swirling in my head? Instead, here are the outcomes of this inspired rampage:

One fleece sweatshirt.Two fleece hats. One cardboard dinosaur head. One dinosaur tail. One pair very baggy pants with a drawstring. One pair mittens. A host of cloth sandwich bags.

That’s right. I crafted.

All weekend, basically. I sewed and cut and measured and sewed again. I glued and taped. I cursed my inability to plan ahead and started over. It began with my son’s Halloween costume. (Obviously, he’s being a T-Rex). It ended with a headband for myself made with scrap fleece. Oh, and I finally hemmed those pants that were dragging in the mud.

What makes this all so monumental is that I don’t craft. I don’t sew. I don’t—and didn’t—use patterns. Yet somehow I managed to CREATE all these things from scratch.

In two words: LOVED IT.

I don’t really *make* that many things. Things you can hold. Every once in a while I experiment with something in the kitchen. But by now I’ve chosen my easy-to-bake artisan breads, so there’s not that much enjoyment from the experimentation (oh, but the eating…). Writing itself is a drawn out, abstract process. I probably won’t feel complete in the way I do now until a book is published, in my hands, being held in the same way I can hold the mittens I just sewed.

Creating tangible things is such an important process for me, but one I haven’t really embraced for a long time. I used to paint, but my paints and brushes have been in some kind of cryogenic deep freeze since I started writing. I don’t know if I’ll take them out, or just keep on this sewing kick. But the pride I felt at having made something concrete was so overwhelming it made me realize I wasn’t meeting all of my creative needs. I’m predicting that attending to both the abstract and non-abstract sides of my artistic self will better serve my writing, though I’m not precisely sure how to detect or measure that influence.

What have you discovered about different forms of the creative process? Do you experiment with both abstract and tangible forms of creation? What have you made with fabric scraps lately?

(Also, email me if you want those bread recipes. The dino costume you can figure out on your own like I did…)

To Workshop or Not to Workshop? Heck Yeah!

I had the chance last Saturday to participate in ENCORE, held by the Northeast Region of SCBWI. They hold their annual conference every May, as well as a workshop day in October with the four highest rated workshops from the conference. Given the fact that the workshops looked great, the price couldn’t be beat, and it meant a Saturday to myself, I jumped at the chance.

The day was the perfect balance of lecture and writing exercises. Here’s what the agenda looked like:

  • Do Your Kid Characters Sound Authentic? (Karen Day)
  • Saying Stuff Good: A Workshop about Strengthening Your Writing with the Effective Use of Voice (Mark Peter Hughes)
  • Keeping It Campy: Writing Camp for Grownups (Jo Knowles and Cindy Faughnan)
  • Dialogue: Crafting Conversation in Fiction for Young Readers (Mitali Perkins)

For each workshop, the speaker took us through the concept in a fresh way, gave us specific examples to refer to, and led us through exercises to apply our learnings immediately. Several challenges forced us to work together with our fellow participants, so no playing wallflower for anyone. I left with a journal full of books and blogs to read, new contacts, and ideas for tackling the next revision on my current novel. I even have some new ideas for my next two novels.

To Sally Riley and everyone else who worked to put together the ENCORE program, I say Bravo! It was well worth the 2-1/2 hour drive for me each way.

For me, the best judge of a workshop or conference is whether I learn something that forces me to look at my writing in a different way. I have never considered myself a poet (well, since high school, anyway). Perhaps I get caught up in the temptation to rhyme. Or as Joanna put it, starting poetry from a blank page is daunting. One of the exercises from the Writing Camp session was all about writing a poem. But we had a construct to work with. Here’s the exercise:

Write your phone number down the page, one number for each line. Now write a poem about something or someone you love. The number on each line tells you EXACTLY how many words you can use (no more, no less). A zero is a wild card.

Give it a try- even those of you who don’t consider yourself a writer! If you are willing to share, please post your poem in the comments. We’d love to see them!

Here’s how mine turned out:

I love…

Her sweet little face

beaming at me

her little hands spreading across my back

kissing my nose.

She smells of syrup and playdough and soap

and childhood.

She giggles, crinkling her nose.

I’m somehow a funny Mommy today to my precious

Elizabeth.

Thanks to Jo Knowles and Cindy Faughnan for the exercise (and the inspiration- it may be just me, but I think my poem isn’t half bad. For a non-poet, that is.) To check out more writing prompts, Jo has tons on her website here.

Best wishes for a creative week, whatever your area of interest!

Making My Story Matter: A Second Look at Revision

A few posts ago, I wrote about revisioning my novel, a la Cheryl Klein. Now I’m back at it, with another book – Writing A Book That Makes A Difference by Philip Gerard.

I admit it – I’ve had this book for well over a year and haven’t even cracked it open enough to skim more than a page or two. At first glance, it’s dense – altogether different from Cheryl Klein’s light, but informative transcribed speeches. But on closer inspection, this is a winner. I suppose it’s important to know why I even picked the book back up, after many failed attempts. Last winter, an agent requested a full manuscript read of a YA novel I’m working on. She liked some bits, but overall said the book wasn’t about much. Those are my words (she was very polite) but it got me thinking. I knew the book was about more, but after the teeniest bit of scrutiny, I had to agree with her. But what to do?

I underwent a big revision, after a random and fortuitous email sparked an idea, an idea that raised the stakes in the book. At this point, I knew I wanted the book to *be* something, at least in my eyes. Not just a bittersweet coming of age story (which it still is). I wanted my book to make a difference. Or at least read like it did. So I picked up Gerard’s book.

Yes, I’ve skimmed a bit, but the book isn’t as dense as I’d first thought. And there’ve been lots of great tidbits including:

– Have each character “present different facets [of an issue] in their actions and words”. Gerard is referring to novels affected by didacticism. Using characters in this way helps alleviate preachiness. Though my story isn’t driven directly by an “issue,” this approach has helped me flesh out the sidekicks in such a way that they now (hopefully) aid my protagonist in reflecting on what’s challenging her. Duh, right?

-A quote from John Steinbeck, included in the book: “A chapter should be a perfect cell in the whole book and should almost be able to stand alone. If this is done then the breaks we call chapters are not arbitrary but rather articulations which allow free movement of the story.” Wow. For some reason, this struck me something fierce. Mostly in that I’ve never quite reached that level of revision, and I mean that in the best of ways. Yes, I’ve reworded and rearranged and cut and inserted and and and, but this one quote raised my goals to heavenly heights. Could each chapter in my novel almost stand alone? Not yet.

Perhaps the most striking thing about reading Gerard’s book was realizing how I just hadn’t been ready to approach my novel in this way. I knew the people, but only vaguely. But my last revision helped me get to the place that I was even ready to delve into a book like Gerard’s, a book about meaning, a literary book (egads!). Now that I know why my characters matter (at least in my head), about why they as individuals will each make a specific difference in the story, my mental revision feels like it’s been expanded exponentially. Of course, now I have to actually do the revision.

With a big thank you to Philip Gerard.  His book made a difference.

Cut Away!

I’ve recently had some major aha moments during the revision process of a manuscript I first wrote two years ago. After a round of rejections, including one that gave me the smallest smidgen of feedback, I couldn’t quite figure out what the story needed. I knew the stakes needed to be raised – that the story needed to be about more than just the romance. And while it was hard to hear the agent’s feedback, I think I’d always known that the story was about more. But maybe this awareness was just on some majorly deep, subconscious level. 🙂 In order to move forward with the manuscript, I needed to figure out what that “more” was.

I struggled with this for a while, until I received a mass email from a non-profit group I’ve supported a few times over the years. My mouth fell open. Just like that I’d found my “more”. I knew what the story needed, and my next wave of revisions was off.

Now I’m finding that so much of what had seemed so critical to the first draft of this story – and even to the second and third drafts – really didn’t matter so much in this new revision. Cut. Cut. Cut. I don’t think I would’ve seen these scenes for what they were – superfluous, fat, filler – without this new vision of what the story was really about. It felt so freeing to drop these scenes, which I am still in love with, into my “graveyard” file. Maybe they’ll find life again in another story someday. (On that note, if I end up pulling them out the graveyard someday, does that mean they’ll have to be in a zombie novel? Hope not…)

I’d always heard about people dropping major scenes, really rewriting, but I guess I’d never truly experienced it before. I suppose I’m lucky the trimming was voluntary and self-driven. Without those scenes, the manuscript will come together in a way I expect to be fresh. I’ll let you know.

You never know what will inspire re-visioning or a major trim session. But my wish is that, if you’re stuck, that you find your “more” to help you on your way.

 

Organizing My Thoughts

Last week, Joanna talked about revision, and how to manage the process with multiple projects in the works. Where do you begin?

I have a new novel outlined, a novel in revision, and several picture books straining to get out of my head. However, this last month of warm weather has taken me away from my writing. For good reasons: swimming, nature walks, bike riding, discovering dinosaurs, and drawing with chalk on the driveway. All of these activities and adventures brought precious moments of laughter, joy, and sweetness. They actively took up the conscious part of my brain, relegating my writing thoughts to the back of the line.

This week school began again. My house is quieter, and my time is freer. So how do I get my writing to again demand its place at the front? It’s hard to know where to begin when you have a head full of different projects in different stages.

Perhaps my son’s LEGO collection can shed some light (bear with me). He has a large collection of pieces, some similar, some specialized. It includes large airplane wings and car frames. There are medium-sized long pieces perfect for creating apartment buildings or shopping centers. There are tiny pieces that make great headlights, and those that sparkle when made into flashlights.

My son prefers to build his own creations, rather than build a kit once and put it on a shelf. He has many ideas in his head, and some days he can’t build fast enough to keep up with all of them.  So with this large diverse collection, how do we keep him organized so that he can build most effectively and efficiently?

We assessed the types and quantities of his pieces, and bought some storage boxes and bins. We spent a Saturday taking his two large bins of pieces and sorting them. And sorting them. And sorting them some more. His collection went from this:

Photo by Katie Cullinan

To this:

Photo by Katie Cullinan

So what does this have to do with my writing? Right now I have many pieces, projects, and writing tasks in the works.  I have outlined a new novel to be written, which means more research along the way. I have a novel in revision, which is in need of reframing and simplifying. I have three newer picture book manuscripts that have been made into dummy books. These need prioritization, and then new query letters readied for agents. In a few months, November will be upon us and I need to decide whether to participate this year in PiBoIdMo (Picture Book Idea Month) or NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and then get prepared.

So perhaps the best way to get started is to get organized. My files are organized. My notes are organized. What are not organized are my thoughts. Which item should take priority? Is one more important?

Writing out what I have in the works (above) has at least helped me assess the pieces.  Now on to one project at a time.  My new novel’s characters are screaming the loudest, so I’ll dedicate this upcoming week to them. Maybe I’ll take a break mid-week and send out some query letters.

Hopefully I’ll be writing a post next month about the first draft I’ve completed on my new novel. And then on to the next project.

The challenge (as it is with my son) is to keep all the pieces organized and in their places.  Let’s hope we can meet the challenge. He and I feel so much happier when the pieces of our creative processes are organized.

The Beast That Is Revision

Last year, when Katie and I attended the SCBWI NYC Winter Conference, we both attended sessions with Cheryl Klein, an editor with Arthur A. Levine Books (a Scholastic imprint). Ms. Klein guided each session through the steps of re-visioning your manuscript. Afterwards, Katie and I commented that this session was especially helpful because it was so specific — we left armed with a to-do lists of exercises that would help us evaluate our stories, find their essences, and move forward towards making them shine. I came home from New York energized and ready to edit.

To be honest, it’s taken me some time to get to some of Ms. Klein’s list. You know, life happened. I wrote a new manuscript (who needs revision when you’re finding the words for the first time?). My son stopped daycare for the summer (bye-bye writing days). We were on the road for four weeks (why don’t we live in Canada?).

But now I’ve picked up Ms. Klein’s book, and I’m raring to go. Her book, Second Sight: An Editor’s Guide to Writing, Revisions, & Publishing Books for Children and Young Adults, is a collection of talks and reflections. After first skimming the book and now starting it from the beginning, I know there will be some great kernels of advice — some repeats from the conference, and others new.

My favorite tidbit from the first chapter is about emotion. A good book, Klein says, “creates a deliberate emotion.” This, I think, is something that gets developed mostly in revision. Deliberate emotionWhen I’m writing a first draft, I just plow through, to get something workable onto the page. Then, in revision, I can question what emotion I’m striving for, look at each sentence or word (if I’m having a good day) to see if it works.

The biggest challenge for me will be figuring out where to start and how to follow through with her suggestions. With three manuscripts in revision, it can be difficult to give each one enough time before my mind wanders into plot development of another. Yes, that can help keep each story fresh, but sometimes I can let one burn, so to speak, while stirring another.  And at this point, I’m very good at making a beast of a to-do list of plot holes to develop, characters to strengthen, and new chapters to write. It’s finding a methodical way to take down said beast that tricks me.

What about you? Have you found resources for revision that inspire you? How do you keep revision on track and in hand?

You can find more information about Cheryl Klein and her book here.

 

To MFA or not to MFA

How many of you have considered this question?

Graduate school has been circling the depths of my mind for close to thirteen years. Back then, I was trying to decide between studying geology or entomology. What a different ride it would have been had I chosen either of those subjects. But I didn’t, nor did I choose to go to divinity school or get my teaching certificate a few years later. No doubt, any of those paths would have proven exciting, inspiring, and enriching, but it’s water under the bridge now.

After two years of serious writing, graduate school has surfaced again. Should I get an MFA in writing? Specifically, writing for children and young adults?

So I’ve asked myself what I would get out of an MFA, and if I could get those same skills through a less expensive route. Probably the most important aspect of an MFA program – for me anyway – is the mentorship. My critique group (do we need a fancy name?) is an invaluable resource to me, and in no way am I going to let that go. But having a mentor whose sole purpose (among having many other sole purposes!) is to teach me the craft of writing sounds amazing. Reading and analyzing the books I’m already reading to improve my understanding of what makes a good story – yea! And the residencies – ten full days of workshops and readings followed by painfully short nights – well, they sound great, too. At least, they do right now…

Well, as of 10:13 this morning, I officially put my name in. Hence the delay in this post – I spent the better part of this past week writing and rewriting my personal and critical essays. Now they’re off. And of course, now I have to get in.

What’s been your experience with To MFA or Not to MFA? Why or why not? After deciding, yes or no, what’s your opinion now?

 

Ah, the Internet

Do you remember when there was no Internet?

Part of me enjoys asking that kind of question. Sure, it dates me. It dates all of us, depending on how you answer it. And at the risk of sounding romantic, I miss that simple world, before telnet (first user group and email I used), before Netscape (my first browser), and certainly before Google (my current search engine).

I started writing two years ago, well after our computer became an electronic family member.  And I’ve been curious lately as to how different the process of writing, and finding an agent, and generally trying to make a living out of this art would be if I had started this ten years ago.

I couldn’t just pop over to Wikipedia and check on some fact about 17th century Suriname nor could I learn of new agents and their interests so promptly. Often times I am thankful that this abstract web of connections exists—it can be very helpful.

But I wonder:

Does the Internet suck my energy?

Many writers could no doubt claim the Internet or something that they read online to be the inspiration for their amazing debut novel coming next fall.  Accomplished writers might say the same for the success of their 15th manuscript. But what is the flip side to having something amounting to an edgeless universe as a distraction?

I admit that when I’m writing I will occasionally (wink, wink) check email or Facebook or YouTube or whatever, really. Is that better than staring at the point where the wall hits the ceiling in search of inspiration? I don’t think so. More often than not, it pulls me away from my characters and their stories. But I haven’t found a way yet to work around this. Anyone have a typewriter they can lend me?

Have you been a writer since the Internet became ubiquitous? How did that shift affect your writing and career? Do you have tips on how to effectively turn off access to this kind of distraction?