by Elizabeth
There are all these faces, and behind each one a brain, a mind, a life. Everyone has a story, and writers seek to tell them. Call it fiction, sure, but I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a writer who succeeds (if it is indeed to be called success) in divorcing himself from himself in his stories. What is fiction but seeking the truth within the structure of a supposed lie?
I just read Dan Chaon's You Remind Me of Me. It jumps from time periods, back and forth, weaving apparently unrelated people's stories until they finally intersect (no spoilers here, I promise), as the reader of course knew they always would. What was fascinating to me, both as a reader and a writer, was how interested in his people Chaon managed to make me--people whom in real life I would probably never even notice or perhaps encounter. I hate to say that; as a writer, it's surely my responsibility to notice, to consider, to imagine. But in the course of my daily trajectory, I have to admit my eyes slide past many faces, maybe even most. The guy behind the counter, behind the wheel of the car behind mine, the guy behind the register ringing up my bread and milk.
But I do notice a lot, and I think, and wonder, and invent. Then I read something like Chaon's book, and I'm reminded the noticing is worth it. It can produce something of interest and value.
All these faces. Everyone has a story.
Showing posts with label characters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label characters. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Friday, June 24, 2011
Need Characters? Borrow From Your Family Tree (Reprised)
By Kim
I originally wrote this post back in July of 2009, but we have a lot of new readers since that time. Some may be curious as to how I came to write a novel about my great-grandfather, and why I would think anyone would want to read it! Here is a slightly edited version of my answers to those questions.
I’m an accidental genealogist. I know it’s a strange hobby for a woman in her 30's, but compiling a family tree can be as much about stories and the characters who lived them as names and dates. What better raw material for a novelist?
Yes, your query would be rejected immediately if you begin with I’ve written a 150,000 word novel about my great uncle; but if that uncle happened to live a compelling life you can always wow an agent with the story first and casually mention your relationship to the protagonist later.
Still not convinced? While researching for my current work in progress I’ve found Eleanor Douglass, a fiercely independent artist at the turn of the last century (and a minor character in my current book). Then there’s Edgar and Sarah Niles who left New York for the western frontier in the 1880’s in a desperate attempt to cure Edgar’s consumption. The level of detail about pioneer life in their letters to family back home is enough to make any novelist salivate. Just last month I discovered that no one has ever written a book on one of the most famous Indian agents during the Revolutionary War. That’s three potential books right there thanks to my 2nd cousin, my great-great grandparents, and my 6x great grand-uncle.
I never had to search for the subject of my current work-in-progress, The Oak Lovers. The most cherished fairy tales of my youth all featured a rather colorful character named Carl Ahrens. My grandmother, Tutu, used to entertain me with stories about Carl running away from home to live with the Indians or making a catastrophic attempt to fly off the barn roof. (My daughters cringe when I recite the flying tale, but always ask to hear it again). As I grew older, the stories multiplied. Carl was a cowboy in pioneer Montana, befriended Calamity Jane, traveled the California coast by covered wagon, and spent an afternoon hiding in a buffalo hollow while warring bands of Indians shot arrows over his head. She never explained how he did all this while suffering from a crippling form of tuberculosis, and it seemed an unimportant detail.
Of course, all good heroes must have a heroine, and Carl found his while working in the Roycroft arts and crafts community. To keep the story interesting, or so I thought, Tutu complicated their relationship in deliciously scandalous ways. Carl, then 38, already had a wife who despised him but wouldn’t let him go. The “Madonna” he worshipped was all of 17. He was a genius with a paintbrush, but cantankerous and destitute. Irresistible as well, apparently, because Tutu occasionally slipped and called them Daddy and Momma.
Having grown up surrounded by paintings of trees that laughed, grieved, danced, and even embraced, I never questioned that my great-grandfather was both a real person and an amazing artist. However, it wasn’t until I was about seven that I began to associate the adventurer with the frail old man in the family photographs. One day my mother saw me playing with a small antique basket that has always fascinated me. She mentioned she believed it was Indian made and had likely been Carl’s. Running my fingers reverently over the basket’s intricate designs, I peered at the nearest old photos. They were candid snapshots instead of the dour portraits that were the vogue of the day. Madonna not only laughed as she sat beside Carl, but leaned into him, sometimes touching his arm or his hand. Carl gazed at her rather than at the camera, an expression of naked adoration on his face. Even then, looking at them made me smile.
We later inherited a photo of a young Carl dressed in buckskins, with the chiseled features and confident stance of a movie star. I stared first at the image and then at my own father. The resemblance between my real life hero (Dad) and my fictional one (Carl) was so striking that I could no longer doubt even the most outrageous of Tutu’s accounts.
After years of intensive research, I have proved the fairy tales true.
Even if you would rather run a mile barefoot on broken glass than look at eighteenth century census records, you can ask questions. Talk to parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Don’t listen simply for the names and dates, but wait for a character to speak to you. Look at those old family photos and study the faces. Some stories can be updated and others will remain firmly in the past. If nothing else, you can probably find some interesting character names. Think about what a conversation piece surnames like Bottenhagan, Cuthwolf, Dunfrund and Frithogar would be. How about Godfrey Lothier III? He happens to be my 24th great-grandfather, but I’ll share.
What about you? Have any of you considered borrowing characters from your family tree?
I originally wrote this post back in July of 2009, but we have a lot of new readers since that time. Some may be curious as to how I came to write a novel about my great-grandfather, and why I would think anyone would want to read it! Here is a slightly edited version of my answers to those questions.
I’m an accidental genealogist. I know it’s a strange hobby for a woman in her 30's, but compiling a family tree can be as much about stories and the characters who lived them as names and dates. What better raw material for a novelist?
Yes, your query would be rejected immediately if you begin with I’ve written a 150,000 word novel about my great uncle; but if that uncle happened to live a compelling life you can always wow an agent with the story first and casually mention your relationship to the protagonist later.
 |
| Eleanor Douglass |
I never had to search for the subject of my current work-in-progress, The Oak Lovers. The most cherished fairy tales of my youth all featured a rather colorful character named Carl Ahrens. My grandmother, Tutu, used to entertain me with stories about Carl running away from home to live with the Indians or making a catastrophic attempt to fly off the barn roof. (My daughters cringe when I recite the flying tale, but always ask to hear it again). As I grew older, the stories multiplied. Carl was a cowboy in pioneer Montana, befriended Calamity Jane, traveled the California coast by covered wagon, and spent an afternoon hiding in a buffalo hollow while warring bands of Indians shot arrows over his head. She never explained how he did all this while suffering from a crippling form of tuberculosis, and it seemed an unimportant detail.
 |
| Madonna Ahrens |
Having grown up surrounded by paintings of trees that laughed, grieved, danced, and even embraced, I never questioned that my great-grandfather was both a real person and an amazing artist. However, it wasn’t until I was about seven that I began to associate the adventurer with the frail old man in the family photographs. One day my mother saw me playing with a small antique basket that has always fascinated me. She mentioned she believed it was Indian made and had likely been Carl’s. Running my fingers reverently over the basket’s intricate designs, I peered at the nearest old photos. They were candid snapshots instead of the dour portraits that were the vogue of the day. Madonna not only laughed as she sat beside Carl, but leaned into him, sometimes touching his arm or his hand. Carl gazed at her rather than at the camera, an expression of naked adoration on his face. Even then, looking at them made me smile.
 |
| Carl Ahrens |
After years of intensive research, I have proved the fairy tales true.
Even if you would rather run a mile barefoot on broken glass than look at eighteenth century census records, you can ask questions. Talk to parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Don’t listen simply for the names and dates, but wait for a character to speak to you. Look at those old family photos and study the faces. Some stories can be updated and others will remain firmly in the past. If nothing else, you can probably find some interesting character names. Think about what a conversation piece surnames like Bottenhagan, Cuthwolf, Dunfrund and Frithogar would be. How about Godfrey Lothier III? He happens to be my 24th great-grandfather, but I’ll share.
What about you? Have any of you considered borrowing characters from your family tree?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
When setting is characters
By JulieYes, you read that right. It doesn't say what we've talked about before--setting as character. Nope, it says what you think it says.
You guys are getting the fallout of my revisions in my posts lately. I love exploring craft issues—and enjoy it even more when a post occurs to me as a natural result of what I'm doing.
You may know I'm revising a manuscript about two unlikely friends on a road trip to a funeral.
The settings vary, all the way from Texas to Kentucky, and while I'm very familiar with the Texas settings because I live here, the Kentucky/Ohio settings are a little tougher to write.
I was born in Kentucky and lived there off and on until I was in the third grade. My grandparents lived in Cincinnati, and my dad grew up in these areas, too, so I am somewhat familiar with them—mostly from my childhood memories, one or two trips back as an adult, and family photographs and lore.
I've worried. Will my setting notes for the parts of my manuscript that take place in Kentucky and Ohio ring true? I've picked my dad's brain again and again to be sure I remember things correctly. I've used Google Earth to view terrain, neighborhoods and architectural styles. I've searched for historical images of landmarks. In other words, I've tried to ensure my setting is accurate. However, I don't doubt that when my novel is published, some local reader will be able to point out the flaws in my Kentucky/Ohio scenes.
But I came across something interesting this week. Something that told me setting isn't necessarily about the terrain. It isn't always about the landmarks.
Sometimes, it's about the characters.
I just read Laura Moriarty's The Rest of Her Life. This is the second novel I've read by Moriarty (I reviewed The Center of Everything last year here), and I find her prose and dialogue to be painfully honest. I can relate to it on many levels. Like I often do with Elizabeth Berg, I wonder if Moriarty can read my mind. How else could she describe so precisely the way I feel—the often frustrating and confusing parts of being a mother or daughter?
The Rest of Her Life is about a family dealing with the death of another family's child caused by their daughter driving while distracted. It takes place in Danby, Kansas. I don't know if this is a real town. For all I know, it could be a town like the Kentucky one I've created in my novel—loosely based on my research and memories of several towns in the general area. (And yes, I could look Danby up to see if it's real. I might do that later, but for purposes of this post, it really doesn't matter.)
Moriarty didn't spend much time on physical description of the town or the surrounding area. I don't remember many, if any, references to landmarks or cultural reference points. Yet, this town is crystal clear in my mind. The reason is because of her characters.
Her characters are representative of the place. The clothes they wear. The way they talk. The things they do in their spare time. The houses they live in. How they raise their children.
All these things combine to make a detailed picture in my brain of what Danby, Kansas, "looks" like. It might not look like another reader's picture, but it works for me. Setting became an important character in spite of the lack of concrete details.
I hope I've done this in my manuscript, too, regardless of whether the small details I slipped in—maybe 100 percent accurate, maybe not—contribute.
I hope my characters say it as well as I could have.
(And that photo at the top of the post? I took it in Leadville, Colorado, last summer. Click on it to see it larger. What says more about the character of Leadville? The buildings a century or more old? The mountains in the distance? Or the guy in the cowboy hat and leather jacket riding a longboard down the middle of Main Street? Okay, maybe the slightly unsettling gas station signs, too ...)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A visit with Barbara O'Neal, author of How to Bake a Perfect Life
B
y Julie
I’ll never forget the first time I sat down to read a novel by Barbara O’Neal. I can’t remember where I got it – from the library? From a used bookstore? But I was glued to it. I couldn’t put it down. I laughed, cried, and was absolutely in awe of the writing in what appeared, from the cover, to be an average women’s fiction novel. But No Place Like Home (written as Barbara Samuel) was anything but average and will stay on that list of books I’ll remember for a long, long time. I still get choked up remembering two scenes in particular in vivid detail, because she’s that good. I found as many of Barbara’s other novels as I could and read them quickly, then eagerly awaited each new release.
Three years ago, Barbara debuted with a new name, and though her backlist is rich with details about food as well, her last three novels take food and its significance in relationships and family life to a new level. I dare you to read her latest release, How to Bake a Perfect Life, without getting the itch to follow one of the recipes posted inside while at the same time losing yourself in this lovely story.
About How to Bake a Perfect Life, from Random House: In a novel as warm and embracing as a family kitchen, Barbara O’Neal explores the poignant, sometimes complex relationships between mothers and daughters—and the healing magic of homemade bread.
Professional baker Ramona Gallagher is a master of an art that has sustained her through the most turbulent times, including a baby at fifteen and an endless family feud. But now Ramona’s bakery threatens to crumble around her. Literally. She’s one water-heater disaster away from losing her grandmother’s rambling Victorian and everything she’s worked so hard to build.
When Ramona’s soldier son-in-law is wounded in Afghanistan, her daughter, Sophia, races overseas to be at his side, leaving Ramona as the only suitable guardian for Sophia’s thirteen-year-old stepdaughter, Katie. Heartbroken, Katie feels that she’s being dumped again—this time on the doorstep of a woman out of practice with mothering.
Ramona relies upon a special set of tools—patience, persistence, and the reliability of a good recipe—when rebellious Katie arrives. And as she relives her own history of difficult choices, Ramona shares her love of baking with the troubled girl. Slowly, Katie begins to find self-acceptance and a place to call home. And when a man from her past returns to offer a second chance at love, Ramona discovers that even the best recipe tastes better when you add time, care, and a few secret ingredients of your own.
About Barbara O’Neal:
Barbara O’Neal fell in love with food and restaurants at the age of fifteen, when she landed a job in a Greek café and served baklava for the first time. She sold her first novel in her twenties, and has since won a plethora of awards, including two Colorado Book Awards and six prestigous RITAs, including one for THE LOST RECIPE FOR HAPPINESS in 2010. Her novels have been published widely in Europe and Australia, and she travels internationally, presenting workshops, hiking hundreds of miles, and of course, eating. She lives with her partner, a British endurance athlete, and their collection of cats and dogs, in Colorado Springs.
y JulieI’ll never forget the first time I sat down to read a novel by Barbara O’Neal. I can’t remember where I got it – from the library? From a used bookstore? But I was glued to it. I couldn’t put it down. I laughed, cried, and was absolutely in awe of the writing in what appeared, from the cover, to be an average women’s fiction novel. But No Place Like Home (written as Barbara Samuel) was anything but average and will stay on that list of books I’ll remember for a long, long time. I still get choked up remembering two scenes in particular in vivid detail, because she’s that good. I found as many of Barbara’s other novels as I could and read them quickly, then eagerly awaited each new release.
Three years ago, Barbara debuted with a new name, and though her backlist is rich with details about food as well, her last three novels take food and its significance in relationships and family life to a new level. I dare you to read her latest release, How to Bake a Perfect Life, without getting the itch to follow one of the recipes posted inside while at the same time losing yourself in this lovely story.About How to Bake a Perfect Life, from Random House: In a novel as warm and embracing as a family kitchen, Barbara O’Neal explores the poignant, sometimes complex relationships between mothers and daughters—and the healing magic of homemade bread.
Professional baker Ramona Gallagher is a master of an art that has sustained her through the most turbulent times, including a baby at fifteen and an endless family feud. But now Ramona’s bakery threatens to crumble around her. Literally. She’s one water-heater disaster away from losing her grandmother’s rambling Victorian and everything she’s worked so hard to build.
When Ramona’s soldier son-in-law is wounded in Afghanistan, her daughter, Sophia, races overseas to be at his side, leaving Ramona as the only suitable guardian for Sophia’s thirteen-year-old stepdaughter, Katie. Heartbroken, Katie feels that she’s being dumped again—this time on the doorstep of a woman out of practice with mothering.
Ramona relies upon a special set of tools—patience, persistence, and the reliability of a good recipe—when rebellious Katie arrives. And as she relives her own history of difficult choices, Ramona shares her love of baking with the troubled girl. Slowly, Katie begins to find self-acceptance and a place to call home. And when a man from her past returns to offer a second chance at love, Ramona discovers that even the best recipe tastes better when you add time, care, and a few secret ingredients of your own.
About Barbara O’Neal:
Barbara O’Neal fell in love with food and restaurants at the age of fifteen, when she landed a job in a Greek café and served baklava for the first time. She sold her first novel in her twenties, and has since won a plethora of awards, including two Colorado Book Awards and six prestigous RITAs, including one for THE LOST RECIPE FOR HAPPINESS in 2010. Her novels have been published widely in Europe and Australia, and she travels internationally, presenting workshops, hiking hundreds of miles, and of course, eating. She lives with her partner, a British endurance athlete, and their collection of cats and dogs, in Colorado Springs.
And now for a conversation with Barbara!
Julie: Interviews are one of my favorite parts about participating in the What Women Write blog. I love these conversations, especially with authors who have been on my list of favorites for years and have had a direct, profound influence on my own writing. Barbara is one such author. Having taken several small, intimate online classes from her, where I not only developed as a writer, but made some lifelong friends, I feel like this is a conversation with a friend I haven’t talked to in a while. (Facebook doesn’t count!) And so … what do you ask a friend when you haven’t seen them in a while? Duh. So, Barbara, what have you been up to lately?
Barbara: You know, I’ve been enjoying myself! 2010 was quite a year, including a trip to England and Spain, walking and walking. I rode trains across Europe by myself and navigated tubes and Metros and train stations without any great mishaps, which made me feel brave, A Woman Having Adventures. I have also been writing, of course, because that’s what I do, every day. The past couple of months, I’ve been doing research for the new book, set in a community garden.
Julie: Oh, I’m going to love that. My son and his girl are deeply involved in community and school gardens where they live.
If I were forced to name one thing about Barbara O’Neal that never lets me down any time I pick up one of your novels (because there are so many things!), it would be that thing we aspiring authors are always trying to chase down: Voice. You do a fantastic job in your online classes helping writers attempt to get a handle on this elusive element. How did you begin to recognize your own voice in your writing? And what’s all this stuff about the Girls in the Basement?
Barbara: Thanks for that! I don’t know that I was aware of my voice, particularly, for a long time, but I began to see that I seem to return to certain themes, settings, and characters, over and over, as we all do. My themes tend to revolve around family dynamics, women as sisters and friends, and how each of us handle the traumas in our lives. I am a native of Colorado, so it’s not surprising that my work is nearly always set in the West, against the mountains and deep skies that are the backdrop of my life. I noticed that the books that seemed to please both readers and writers the most were books that were very personal in some way—and that, of course, is what your voice is: you, all the things that make you who you are.
The Girls in the Basement is taken from the Stephen King book On Writing, where he describes his muses as a bunch of guys in the basement, hammering and nailing and doing mysterious things, then handing him some pages. The image grabbed me and I ended up writing a column for Novelist’s Inc, an organization of published commercial writers, for several years. It was about nurturing your creativity and recognizing that you can’t be a whole, healthy writer without taking care of your inner child, the teenager who creates.
Julie: Speaking of teenagers … You grew up in the restaurant business and food has played a major character in so many of your stories. Would you be willing to share a favorite “shop story” from your years growing up and working in and around restaurants?
Barbara: I wanted a job in a particular restaurant in the worst way—Michelle’s, in Colorado Springs. It was an European-style café, with pastries and ice cream and sandwiches and elegant little drinks, and had once been written up in Life Magazine. The reason I wanted to work there was not for any of those things, however, but for the hats the waitresses wore (we were still waitresses back then). The hats were blue or red velvet, trimmed with gold braid, and I thought they were so incredibly beautiful. I had Rapunzel hair at the time, and tucking it up beneath that hat made me feel like a medieval girl. Putting it on, I was 12x more beautiful than I was any other time. It was an enchanted hat, I know it was.
Julie: Picturing that makes me smile! And speaking of food as a character, Bread gets a capital B in HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE. I know you put a lot of time, energy, and ingredients into getting the recipes posted in your novels just right. I know you also place a lot of value in letting things beyond your own mind guide you as you write. Can you share a moment that enchanted you while experimenting with bread baking as research for this novel?
Barbara: When I took the pain au chocolat out of the oven and put it on the counter, I could hear hosannas. The pastry has to be rolled with a huge amount of butter, then chilled, and rolled, and chilled and folded and rolled. The ingredients are so simple: flour, water, salt, butter, chocolate, and the result is astonishing. It was all I could do to let them cool long enough that I wouldn’t burn my tongue on the chocolate. (There is a recipe in the book for very simple pain au chocolat using frozen dough that is very good.)
Julie: In the midst of reading HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE, I got such a strong hankering for pain au chocolat, I melted some semi-sweet chocolate chips on a roll (as I was taught to do in French class in junior high) because it was all I had in the house. It was good, but probably not as good as your recipe, which I still intend to make very, very soon.
In my own stories, I love experimenting with voices and point-of-view characters who aren’t like me. (It makes life so much more interesting!) I always completely fall for your characters, Barbara. This is a question you’ll see in many of the interviews I conduct for What Women Write because I am fascinated with how each unique author conducts this process. In this novel, you get into the mind and soul of Katie, a teenage girl who has basically been abandoned by her meth-addicted mom, and you explore what happens to an entire family when Oscar, a badly burned and injured Afghan war soldier returns stateside. And these are but a few of a cast of unique and richly embodied characters. How do you get into those voices that aren’t really “like” you or empathize with a character and describe a situation so foreign to your own experience?
Barbara: This is one of the best parts of writing to me, that something can take over and let me walk in another person’s shoes, walk around the world as somebody else. The process is pretty straightforward for me. I do a ton of research and then I put on their personality and life much the same way an actor would. I’m definitely a “method writer”, and immerse very deeply into the characters in each book. I have to know each character extremely well—I feel I should be able to order food in a restaurant as they would; I should be able to shop for their clothes and know what their favorite movies are and if they sleep well or not well. Everything. I think most writers do this in some way, and that’s why writing is so tiring—we are not just putting words on a page; we’re living all those other lives. Katie touched me deeply. Her story is sad in many ways, but she’s also mighty and willing to fight for herself, which I loved.
Julie: Yes, Katie is mighty. As a mother of a 13 year old, I absolutely love that!
Anyone who has read your blog over the years or spent much time researching you as an author knows you use some pretty unique methods for planning out a novel. Would you share about some of these and why they work for you?
Barbara: I never think of my methods as particularly unusual, but it is pretty organic. I feel like the girls in the basement hand me up a basket of stuff at the start of a book and there might be one thing I recognize—oh, a book about sourdough? That’s a great idea! I love sourdough! —and then I have to figure out from there what it’s all about. At the start, I try to stick with a lot of play: if I were to write a book about bread, what might it be about? Rising dough makes me think of a pregnant belly, and dough feels like a baby butt, so maybe it’s about mothers and children. I will collage through the first stages, which is less about the actual collage and what pictures are on it than it is about giving my right brain plenty of room to discover what the book is about, what images we’re working with, what themes, even what colors. I know a book is going to gel when I know the colors.
And I guess that does all sound slightly strange, doesn’t it? But I also use pretty standard techniques like first person bios and plotting tools like the 9-step female journey as presented by Victoria Lynn Schmidt in 45 Master Characters. I am also very attached to giant Post It notes that I stick to the walls and doors in my office.
Julie: Well, your stories are far from ordinary, and I know for a fact (having received some of it myself over the years as I’ve taken classes with you) that you have some advice about writing that isn't run-of-the-mill, either. What one tidbit would you like to share with our readers who are also aspiring authors today?
Barbara: The main thing is to be yourself. Give yourself permission to write a story you’d really love to read, and listen to it reveal itself to you. Therein lies your great work.
Julie: Thank you so much for that, Barbara, and thanks for being our guest today at What Women Write! I can’t recommend your books—those written as Barbara O’Neal as well as your backlist written as Barbara Samuel or Ruth Wind, highly enough to our readers!
Start with HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE, available now at all major booksellers (and currently a Target Pick!), and work your way backwards—you won’t be disappointed. And while you’re at it, stock up on aprons, pot holders, and ingredients. I guarantee even the most hesitant cook will find herself strangely moved to fire up the oven! (And probably a pallet of tissues, too. Fair warning!)
Julie: Interviews are one of my favorite parts about participating in the What Women Write blog. I love these conversations, especially with authors who have been on my list of favorites for years and have had a direct, profound influence on my own writing. Barbara is one such author. Having taken several small, intimate online classes from her, where I not only developed as a writer, but made some lifelong friends, I feel like this is a conversation with a friend I haven’t talked to in a while. (Facebook doesn’t count!) And so … what do you ask a friend when you haven’t seen them in a while? Duh. So, Barbara, what have you been up to lately?
Barbara: You know, I’ve been enjoying myself! 2010 was quite a year, including a trip to England and Spain, walking and walking. I rode trains across Europe by myself and navigated tubes and Metros and train stations without any great mishaps, which made me feel brave, A Woman Having Adventures. I have also been writing, of course, because that’s what I do, every day. The past couple of months, I’ve been doing research for the new book, set in a community garden.
Julie: Oh, I’m going to love that. My son and his girl are deeply involved in community and school gardens where they live.
If I were forced to name one thing about Barbara O’Neal that never lets me down any time I pick up one of your novels (because there are so many things!), it would be that thing we aspiring authors are always trying to chase down: Voice. You do a fantastic job in your online classes helping writers attempt to get a handle on this elusive element. How did you begin to recognize your own voice in your writing? And what’s all this stuff about the Girls in the Basement?
Barbara: Thanks for that! I don’t know that I was aware of my voice, particularly, for a long time, but I began to see that I seem to return to certain themes, settings, and characters, over and over, as we all do. My themes tend to revolve around family dynamics, women as sisters and friends, and how each of us handle the traumas in our lives. I am a native of Colorado, so it’s not surprising that my work is nearly always set in the West, against the mountains and deep skies that are the backdrop of my life. I noticed that the books that seemed to please both readers and writers the most were books that were very personal in some way—and that, of course, is what your voice is: you, all the things that make you who you are.
The Girls in the Basement is taken from the Stephen King book On Writing, where he describes his muses as a bunch of guys in the basement, hammering and nailing and doing mysterious things, then handing him some pages. The image grabbed me and I ended up writing a column for Novelist’s Inc, an organization of published commercial writers, for several years. It was about nurturing your creativity and recognizing that you can’t be a whole, healthy writer without taking care of your inner child, the teenager who creates.
Julie: Speaking of teenagers … You grew up in the restaurant business and food has played a major character in so many of your stories. Would you be willing to share a favorite “shop story” from your years growing up and working in and around restaurants?
Barbara: I wanted a job in a particular restaurant in the worst way—Michelle’s, in Colorado Springs. It was an European-style café, with pastries and ice cream and sandwiches and elegant little drinks, and had once been written up in Life Magazine. The reason I wanted to work there was not for any of those things, however, but for the hats the waitresses wore (we were still waitresses back then). The hats were blue or red velvet, trimmed with gold braid, and I thought they were so incredibly beautiful. I had Rapunzel hair at the time, and tucking it up beneath that hat made me feel like a medieval girl. Putting it on, I was 12x more beautiful than I was any other time. It was an enchanted hat, I know it was.
Julie: Picturing that makes me smile! And speaking of food as a character, Bread gets a capital B in HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE. I know you put a lot of time, energy, and ingredients into getting the recipes posted in your novels just right. I know you also place a lot of value in letting things beyond your own mind guide you as you write. Can you share a moment that enchanted you while experimenting with bread baking as research for this novel?
Barbara: When I took the pain au chocolat out of the oven and put it on the counter, I could hear hosannas. The pastry has to be rolled with a huge amount of butter, then chilled, and rolled, and chilled and folded and rolled. The ingredients are so simple: flour, water, salt, butter, chocolate, and the result is astonishing. It was all I could do to let them cool long enough that I wouldn’t burn my tongue on the chocolate. (There is a recipe in the book for very simple pain au chocolat using frozen dough that is very good.)
Julie: In the midst of reading HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE, I got such a strong hankering for pain au chocolat, I melted some semi-sweet chocolate chips on a roll (as I was taught to do in French class in junior high) because it was all I had in the house. It was good, but probably not as good as your recipe, which I still intend to make very, very soon.
In my own stories, I love experimenting with voices and point-of-view characters who aren’t like me. (It makes life so much more interesting!) I always completely fall for your characters, Barbara. This is a question you’ll see in many of the interviews I conduct for What Women Write because I am fascinated with how each unique author conducts this process. In this novel, you get into the mind and soul of Katie, a teenage girl who has basically been abandoned by her meth-addicted mom, and you explore what happens to an entire family when Oscar, a badly burned and injured Afghan war soldier returns stateside. And these are but a few of a cast of unique and richly embodied characters. How do you get into those voices that aren’t really “like” you or empathize with a character and describe a situation so foreign to your own experience?
Barbara: This is one of the best parts of writing to me, that something can take over and let me walk in another person’s shoes, walk around the world as somebody else. The process is pretty straightforward for me. I do a ton of research and then I put on their personality and life much the same way an actor would. I’m definitely a “method writer”, and immerse very deeply into the characters in each book. I have to know each character extremely well—I feel I should be able to order food in a restaurant as they would; I should be able to shop for their clothes and know what their favorite movies are and if they sleep well or not well. Everything. I think most writers do this in some way, and that’s why writing is so tiring—we are not just putting words on a page; we’re living all those other lives. Katie touched me deeply. Her story is sad in many ways, but she’s also mighty and willing to fight for herself, which I loved.
Julie: Yes, Katie is mighty. As a mother of a 13 year old, I absolutely love that!
Anyone who has read your blog over the years or spent much time researching you as an author knows you use some pretty unique methods for planning out a novel. Would you share about some of these and why they work for you?
Barbara: I never think of my methods as particularly unusual, but it is pretty organic. I feel like the girls in the basement hand me up a basket of stuff at the start of a book and there might be one thing I recognize—oh, a book about sourdough? That’s a great idea! I love sourdough! —and then I have to figure out from there what it’s all about. At the start, I try to stick with a lot of play: if I were to write a book about bread, what might it be about? Rising dough makes me think of a pregnant belly, and dough feels like a baby butt, so maybe it’s about mothers and children. I will collage through the first stages, which is less about the actual collage and what pictures are on it than it is about giving my right brain plenty of room to discover what the book is about, what images we’re working with, what themes, even what colors. I know a book is going to gel when I know the colors.
And I guess that does all sound slightly strange, doesn’t it? But I also use pretty standard techniques like first person bios and plotting tools like the 9-step female journey as presented by Victoria Lynn Schmidt in 45 Master Characters. I am also very attached to giant Post It notes that I stick to the walls and doors in my office.
Julie: Well, your stories are far from ordinary, and I know for a fact (having received some of it myself over the years as I’ve taken classes with you) that you have some advice about writing that isn't run-of-the-mill, either. What one tidbit would you like to share with our readers who are also aspiring authors today?
Barbara: The main thing is to be yourself. Give yourself permission to write a story you’d really love to read, and listen to it reveal itself to you. Therein lies your great work.
Julie: Thank you so much for that, Barbara, and thanks for being our guest today at What Women Write! I can’t recommend your books—those written as Barbara O’Neal as well as your backlist written as Barbara Samuel or Ruth Wind, highly enough to our readers!
Start with HOW TO BAKE A PERFECT LIFE, available now at all major booksellers (and currently a Target Pick!), and work your way backwards—you won’t be disappointed. And while you’re at it, stock up on aprons, pot holders, and ingredients. I guarantee even the most hesitant cook will find herself strangely moved to fire up the oven! (And probably a pallet of tissues, too. Fair warning!)
Monday, July 19, 2010
Send your characters on a journey
by Joan
When I woke this morning, I knew we were brunching with the in-laws, but that’s as far as my day was planned. If it had been a predictable Sunday, I’d have read the paper and a book while golf played in the background, maybe hit the gym, then made a predictable dinner of chicken or beef, fruit and salad. A nice relaxing day, but nothing we hadn’t done many times before.
Whether you write your novel with or without an outline, you probably have some idea of where your story is going. But is it predictable? Have you read that same plot before?
On the way home from brunch, my husband suggested we go somewhere. Maybe to the Nasher Sculpture Museum. “Why not?” my son and I said. Then, on the way down the Tollway, someone brought up the zoo. “We’ve never been to the Dallas Zoo.” And just like that our plot for the day changed. We had no sunscreen or water or hats with us, but we showed up anyway and were treated to a day in the sun by giraffes, elephants, gorillas, tigers and a few hundred other animals. Some I’d never seen before, like an okapi, which looks to me like half-giraffe, half-zebra. Others brought back fond memories, like the meerkats, who instantly had us visualizing Timon from The Lion King.
How did we handle the heat? We tried to keep cool in the shade or under mist machines, ate lemon chills and cherry ices, stepped inside the occasional air-conditioned building. We braved the 104 degree temps. Other people gave up and headed home. Some kids whined, others didn’t seem phased by the heat at all.
When writing a novel, sometimes you have to set your many-faceted characters on an excursion. Put them into unique situations, have them bump into strangers. How will they react? Will your protagonist freeze or run from a confrontation with a mugger on the Tube, or will she douse him with pepper spray and take back her purse? Will your secondary character encourage her best friend to take that job in California? Or get a tattoo which lands her in the hospital? If you send them to the zoo, one of your characters might end up nose to nose with a giraffe and another, bumping into someone they didn't want to see. Wherever you send them, make it new and unusual. It’ll make for a more memorable journey.
When I woke this morning, I knew we were brunching with the in-laws, but that’s as far as my day was planned. If it had been a predictable Sunday, I’d have read the paper and a book while golf played in the background, maybe hit the gym, then made a predictable dinner of chicken or beef, fruit and salad. A nice relaxing day, but nothing we hadn’t done many times before.
Whether you write your novel with or without an outline, you probably have some idea of where your story is going. But is it predictable? Have you read that same plot before?
On the way home from brunch, my husband suggested we go somewhere. Maybe to the Nasher Sculpture Museum. “Why not?” my son and I said. Then, on the way down the Tollway, someone brought up the zoo. “We’ve never been to the Dallas Zoo.” And just like that our plot for the day changed. We had no sunscreen or water or hats with us, but we showed up anyway and were treated to a day in the sun by giraffes, elephants, gorillas, tigers and a few hundred other animals. Some I’d never seen before, like an okapi, which looks to me like half-giraffe, half-zebra. Others brought back fond memories, like the meerkats, who instantly had us visualizing Timon from The Lion King.
How did we handle the heat? We tried to keep cool in the shade or under mist machines, ate lemon chills and cherry ices, stepped inside the occasional air-conditioned building. We braved the 104 degree temps. Other people gave up and headed home. Some kids whined, others didn’t seem phased by the heat at all.
When writing a novel, sometimes you have to set your many-faceted characters on an excursion. Put them into unique situations, have them bump into strangers. How will they react? Will your protagonist freeze or run from a confrontation with a mugger on the Tube, or will she douse him with pepper spray and take back her purse? Will your secondary character encourage her best friend to take that job in California? Or get a tattoo which lands her in the hospital? If you send them to the zoo, one of your characters might end up nose to nose with a giraffe and another, bumping into someone they didn't want to see. Wherever you send them, make it new and unusual. It’ll make for a more memorable journey.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Setting as Character
By Julie
Last week, I set my NaNoWriMo novel aside. The beauty of participating in National Novel Writing Month is the short format, allowing you to experiment with a new story idea without a huge investment of time. I used November to write about half of a story that had been rolling around in my subconscious for a few years while I completed my last manuscript. The writing flowed some days and got stuck in the mud others. In January, I was pleased when I re-read what I'd written, but when I attempted a start on completing the story a few weeks ago, I had nothing to give to it.
I suppose I could have forced myself to keep writing, making it up as I went along. I'm pretty much a by-the-seat-of-my-pants writer anyway. (I call myself a plotser. I need a general idea of where I'm going and typically have a brief list of upcoming scenes that I follow, more or less, but enjoy seeing where my characters take me and try to let them lead me.)
Right there is where this post really gets started.
Seeing where my characters take me.
My NaNo characters weren't taking me anywhere unpredictable and quite honestly, I was bored. No exciting twists or unexpected actions seemed to be hiding in the woodwork, and it was really dragging me down. I figured if my characters bored me that much, I couldn't expect a reader to get excited about them. And, it seemed bigger than just the "sagging middle." I've written full manuscripts before and soldiered on through that inevitable phase.
On the other hand, a character I've been eyeing in the back of my mind wasn't leaving me alone. She's lurked there since I took a writer's voice class a few years ago and wrote a short character sketch. Her story is bigger than anything I've attempted before. In fact, I wasn't sure I was worthy of capturing her on paper just yet. But, as we writers often find, sometimes a character grabs hold of you and won't leave you alone until you tell her story. (EDIT: Hey! Barbara was my teacher and just happened to blog on voice today at Writer Unboxed!)
So, I've spent the last week or so doing historical research about a time period I don't know well. I've taken a few stabs at the story's beginning with what feels like decent results.
But one thing really stopping me from really plunging in right now is setting. I could go ahead and write the story, leaving those details out for now. But something tells me setting is going to be a character in her own right in this manuscript. And I need to nail her down and figure out who she is. She's that important.
I've read several novels lately where setting is critical to the story for various reasons.
In Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger, the location (England) is important, but the house, where nearly all the action happens, is truly the main character. The narrator's
voice is simply telling the story of the house. It's even obvious from the cover.
In The Crying Tree, Naseem Rakha chose two main settings – a close-knit small town in Illinois and a desolate, isolated town in Oregon. Each represents a time in the main character's life, but also goes beyond that to represent the fertility and happiness of the family versus the lonely barrenness after their son is murdered.
Nick Hornby creates a fictional town in Juliet, Naked. Gooleness is predictable and going nowhere with no identifiable claim to fame or future goal. It mirrors Annie and Duncan, two sides of a couple whose life -- previously neatly mapped out, or so they thought -- goes awry when an outside force unexpectedly changes things.
A book on my to-be-read list, Melanie Benjamin's Alice I Have Been, tells the story of Alice Liddell, the true-life muse for Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. You can bet that setting is crucial to this story based on a real-life character. To change the setting would be to change the girl.
I struggled with setting for my last manuscript. But eventually, Waco, Texas, with its not-so-pretty history of vigilante justice and leaders gone a little crazy with power, became the perfect place for my story of a community forced to view a crime through the lenses of a paradigm shift. I'd spent little time in Waco (maybe two hours total), and it seems strangely providential that my son ended up moving there to live on a farm last year. I got to know this little town better than I ever expected.
Now, with my new story, I'm facing the same struggle.
Do I set it here in Texas, maybe down the road in Ft. Worth, a city I can visit and explore at the drop of a hat? But which is also hundreds of miles away from New Mexico, a location that would by necessity play a critical part in the plot?
Or, do I set it, as I am inclined, in Cincinnati, Ohio, a place familiar to me as a small child, but only experienced briefly as an adult when I returned for a funeral more than a decade ago?
I could tell you many details about my grandparents' house in Cincinnati. I could describe the house across the river in Southgate, Kentucky, where my dad was born, and where his father built a retaining wall of smooth river stones to keep the tiny house from falling down the hill. I could find my grandfather's grave in a cemetery flanked by a house where my great-grandfather was the town florist in the early 1900s in Blanchester, Ohio, near Cincinnati. I could even tell you about the fabulous cookies my Aunt Margie had on hand from Buskin's Bakery whenever we came to visit and the rides and hot dogs first at Coney Island, then King's Island, in the early 1970s.
Beyond that, I can't tell you much. In fact, I couldn't tell you how to get from any one of these locations to another of them.
But something about the Queen City, with her history of 1920s and 1930s speakeasies and supper clubs and her metro area's polarized laws and attitudes strongly dependent on whether you were in Cincinnati or across the river in Kentucky, speaks to me and says perhaps she's the character who will unify the others in my new story.
So, I'm busy getting to know her, presently through the marvels of the Internet, holding my breath as I open links, hoping they'll reveal a primary source (perhaps a photograph or recorded oral history from the right era). I have a feeling if Cincinnati ends up a major player in my new story, a visit will be in order sometime in the near future.
What about you? How has setting played a character in your writing? Do you think it's important to have lived or spent extensive time in that place? Or have you written a story where the setting was basically unknown to you, but called out so strongly, you had to follow your instinct and get to know that place as well as you could with the resources at hand?
Photo credits: Ryan Thomos/Creative Commons License , Joanne Maly - Lincoln Maly Marketing
Last week, I set my NaNoWriMo novel aside. The beauty of participating in National Novel Writing Month is the short format, allowing you to experiment with a new story idea without a huge investment of time. I used November to write about half of a story that had been rolling around in my subconscious for a few years while I completed my last manuscript. The writing flowed some days and got stuck in the mud others. In January, I was pleased when I re-read what I'd written, but when I attempted a start on completing the story a few weeks ago, I had nothing to give to it.I suppose I could have forced myself to keep writing, making it up as I went along. I'm pretty much a by-the-seat-of-my-pants writer anyway. (I call myself a plotser. I need a general idea of where I'm going and typically have a brief list of upcoming scenes that I follow, more or less, but enjoy seeing where my characters take me and try to let them lead me.)
Right there is where this post really gets started.
Seeing where my characters take me.
My NaNo characters weren't taking me anywhere unpredictable and quite honestly, I was bored. No exciting twists or unexpected actions seemed to be hiding in the woodwork, and it was really dragging me down. I figured if my characters bored me that much, I couldn't expect a reader to get excited about them. And, it seemed bigger than just the "sagging middle." I've written full manuscripts before and soldiered on through that inevitable phase.
On the other hand, a character I've been eyeing in the back of my mind wasn't leaving me alone. She's lurked there since I took a writer's voice class a few years ago and wrote a short character sketch. Her story is bigger than anything I've attempted before. In fact, I wasn't sure I was worthy of capturing her on paper just yet. But, as we writers often find, sometimes a character grabs hold of you and won't leave you alone until you tell her story. (EDIT: Hey! Barbara was my teacher and just happened to blog on voice today at Writer Unboxed!)
So, I've spent the last week or so doing historical research about a time period I don't know well. I've taken a few stabs at the story's beginning with what feels like decent results.
But one thing really stopping me from really plunging in right now is setting. I could go ahead and write the story, leaving those details out for now. But something tells me setting is going to be a character in her own right in this manuscript. And I need to nail her down and figure out who she is. She's that important.
I've read several novels lately where setting is critical to the story for various reasons.
In Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger, the location (England) is important, but the house, where nearly all the action happens, is truly the main character. The narrator's
voice is simply telling the story of the house. It's even obvious from the cover.In The Crying Tree, Naseem Rakha chose two main settings – a close-knit small town in Illinois and a desolate, isolated town in Oregon. Each represents a time in the main character's life, but also goes beyond that to represent the fertility and happiness of the family versus the lonely barrenness after their son is murdered.
Nick Hornby creates a fictional town in Juliet, Naked. Gooleness is predictable and going nowhere with no identifiable claim to fame or future goal. It mirrors Annie and Duncan, two sides of a couple whose life -- previously neatly mapped out, or so they thought -- goes awry when an outside force unexpectedly changes things.
A book on my to-be-read list, Melanie Benjamin's Alice I Have Been, tells the story of Alice Liddell, the true-life muse for Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. You can bet that setting is crucial to this story based on a real-life character. To change the setting would be to change the girl.
I struggled with setting for my last manuscript. But eventually, Waco, Texas, with its not-so-pretty history of vigilante justice and leaders gone a little crazy with power, became the perfect place for my story of a community forced to view a crime through the lenses of a paradigm shift. I'd spent little time in Waco (maybe two hours total), and it seems strangely providential that my son ended up moving there to live on a farm last year. I got to know this little town better than I ever expected.
Now, with my new story, I'm facing the same struggle.
Do I set it here in Texas, maybe down the road in Ft. Worth, a city I can visit and explore at the drop of a hat? But which is also hundreds of miles away from New Mexico, a location that would by necessity play a critical part in the plot?
Or, do I set it, as I am inclined, in Cincinnati, Ohio, a place familiar to me as a small child, but only experienced briefly as an adult when I returned for a funeral more than a decade ago?
I could tell you many details about my grandparents' house in Cincinnati. I could describe the house across the river in Southgate, Kentucky, where my dad was born, and where his father built a retaining wall of smooth river stones to keep the tiny house from falling down the hill. I could find my grandfather's grave in a cemetery flanked by a house where my great-grandfather was the town florist in the early 1900s in Blanchester, Ohio, near Cincinnati. I could even tell you about the fabulous cookies my Aunt Margie had on hand from Buskin's Bakery whenever we came to visit and the rides and hot dogs first at Coney Island, then King's Island, in the early 1970s.
Beyond that, I can't tell you much. In fact, I couldn't tell you how to get from any one of these locations to another of them.
But something about the Queen City, with her history of 1920s and 1930s speakeasies and supper clubs and her metro area's polarized laws and attitudes strongly dependent on whether you were in Cincinnati or across the river in Kentucky, speaks to me and says perhaps she's the character who will unify the others in my new story.So, I'm busy getting to know her, presently through the marvels of the Internet, holding my breath as I open links, hoping they'll reveal a primary source (perhaps a photograph or recorded oral history from the right era). I have a feeling if Cincinnati ends up a major player in my new story, a visit will be in order sometime in the near future.
What about you? How has setting played a character in your writing? Do you think it's important to have lived or spent extensive time in that place? Or have you written a story where the setting was basically unknown to you, but called out so strongly, you had to follow your instinct and get to know that place as well as you could with the resources at hand?
Photo credits: Ryan Thomos/Creative Commons License , Joanne Maly - Lincoln Maly Marketing
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Time to Think
by Elizabeth
Funny thing about productivity.
A couple of weeks ago I was on a tear, writing every day, producing words, moving along with my WIP. I knew much of it would never make it to the final draft, but along I plugged anyway. I'd made an appointment with the muse, and even if she didn't decide to show up, I would, and I'd work alone if I had to.
Then life hit again, and it coincided with doubt, and let me tell you, for a writer that isn't the prettiest combination. Its offspring, in this case, was twins: self-doubt and lethargy. Not the cutest pair in the nursery.
I needed to get back to the basics. Plot. Story. Characters. I didn't really have enough of any of them, more a situation for some cardboard cliches. Situations might be interesting, but they don't make a novel. I needed a refresher course on how to write a book. It showed up in the most obvious of places.
Books, of course. I read, and with the mindset of a writer. It helped that the novel I'd happened to grab at the library earlier in the week had realistic twists and turns, new information that kept me guessing and just a step ahead of the protagonist. (I love feeling smart that way.) Plot! I thought. Story! Not to mention characters. I finished the book and immediately thumbed through it, chapter by chapter, outlining its trajectory.
Then I put down my pen. And started thinking. I thought on the treadmill; pondered as I waited between appointments and in carpool lanes; noodled my way through long walks in the new crisp air. Thought about my book. Its plot, story, characters. I allowed myself to abandon what I thought it should be about, and let my mind decide anew. I think some of the characters had a word or seven to put in as well, not all of them suitable for a family blog.
But: I fell in love.
I'd had an idea and trudged out some 12K words from it, but the heart wasn't yet there. My heart wasn't there. Not only had I just placed some characters in a situation rather than a story, I was also ambivalent about committing to this project. My brain kept meandering to other stories (ahem, maybe situations), other characters. I felt unfaithful, even as I showed up each day right on schedule.
Taking the time, giving myself that gift of it, to think, made the difference. I saw how the first chapter would play out, tied it to the central theme of the book. I invented peripheral characters with the big job of advancing the story. I made decisions about the challenges my characters would face, helping tap the elusive-for-me plot into place. I saw how the book would end, how it would break my heart in doing so, only to staple it back together. I felt those characters' hopes rise as their stories unfolded, and crumbled beside them with their disappointments. I found the excitement I'd been missing.
So now I'm ready to get back to work, scribble out words that might stand a chance of surviving revision and critique. I'm ready to show up and see if the muse meets me, and my guess is that this time she'll be there more often. If not, I'll survive. I've got a real story now, and a plot. I've got the enthusiasm. I've got some people with a story to tell, and they're counting on me to do it.
Funny thing about productivity.
A couple of weeks ago I was on a tear, writing every day, producing words, moving along with my WIP. I knew much of it would never make it to the final draft, but along I plugged anyway. I'd made an appointment with the muse, and even if she didn't decide to show up, I would, and I'd work alone if I had to.
Then life hit again, and it coincided with doubt, and let me tell you, for a writer that isn't the prettiest combination. Its offspring, in this case, was twins: self-doubt and lethargy. Not the cutest pair in the nursery.
I needed to get back to the basics. Plot. Story. Characters. I didn't really have enough of any of them, more a situation for some cardboard cliches. Situations might be interesting, but they don't make a novel. I needed a refresher course on how to write a book. It showed up in the most obvious of places.
Books, of course. I read, and with the mindset of a writer. It helped that the novel I'd happened to grab at the library earlier in the week had realistic twists and turns, new information that kept me guessing and just a step ahead of the protagonist. (I love feeling smart that way.) Plot! I thought. Story! Not to mention characters. I finished the book and immediately thumbed through it, chapter by chapter, outlining its trajectory.
Then I put down my pen. And started thinking. I thought on the treadmill; pondered as I waited between appointments and in carpool lanes; noodled my way through long walks in the new crisp air. Thought about my book. Its plot, story, characters. I allowed myself to abandon what I thought it should be about, and let my mind decide anew. I think some of the characters had a word or seven to put in as well, not all of them suitable for a family blog.
But: I fell in love.
I'd had an idea and trudged out some 12K words from it, but the heart wasn't yet there. My heart wasn't there. Not only had I just placed some characters in a situation rather than a story, I was also ambivalent about committing to this project. My brain kept meandering to other stories (ahem, maybe situations), other characters. I felt unfaithful, even as I showed up each day right on schedule.
Taking the time, giving myself that gift of it, to think, made the difference. I saw how the first chapter would play out, tied it to the central theme of the book. I invented peripheral characters with the big job of advancing the story. I made decisions about the challenges my characters would face, helping tap the elusive-for-me plot into place. I saw how the book would end, how it would break my heart in doing so, only to staple it back together. I felt those characters' hopes rise as their stories unfolded, and crumbled beside them with their disappointments. I found the excitement I'd been missing.
So now I'm ready to get back to work, scribble out words that might stand a chance of surviving revision and critique. I'm ready to show up and see if the muse meets me, and my guess is that this time she'll be there more often. If not, I'll survive. I've got a real story now, and a plot. I've got the enthusiasm. I've got some people with a story to tell, and they're counting on me to do it.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Global Faces
by Joan
When I was growing up, the dream of my traveling around the world seemed as likely as my looking like Bo Derek. But several years ago, I did go (though I didn’t arrive in Dallas looking like Ms. Derek). Although we made a full rotation, if you tracked our route around the globe, our trail would be a thin rubber band leaving 99% of the world left unseen. Even so, my eyes have been around the world and they were opened to new cultures, new food and new characters.
My eyes have seen the spot on Mykonos where Shirley Valentine’s dreams (and mine) came true. They’ve seen the Istanbul bazaar and the Acropolis from a nearby hilltop restaurant. They’ve seen dainty painted eggs in a Salzburg shop, Mount McKinley on a rare clear day, Pope John Paul II's coffin in the crypt below St. Peter's Basilica, and the van Gogh museum in Amsterdam (another dream come true).
I’ve yet to put together a collage of saved ticket stubs, museum literature, menus, beach pebbles and coins, but we have over 3,000 pictures from our trip, photos of the rich landscape of cobalt seas and white columns, of glaciers and rocky beaches.
Of us eating fat raspberries in The Netherlands and toxic foogoo in Japan.
Of a cow staring us down from the middle of a winding Swiss road.
Of Greek gods hovering around us.
I treasure the pictures of my guys, the backs of their heads offering me a view of the world from their perspective. Of my dear friend Joy and her big Greek family and our adventures in Athens and Delphi. But I've always been fascinated by the faces of nameless people.
I gathered a lifetime of stories, my mind spinning like the globe we circled, so it’s no surprise I see those nameless people cropping up as characters in my dreams, wheedling their way into future novels. One day maybe I’ll write about the couple on the steps of a Tokyo temple, a bride and groom as stunning as their costumes. Who are they? What twists and turns has their life taken since that day?
Perhaps I’ll write about the surprise and wonder in exotic children, about where they fit in the family tree or what secrets they will learn about their ancestors.
Or maybe I’ll tackle the people whose faces tell stories without words. Will I write about the older woman whose life is laid out in her stature, or about the only English speaking resident in the tiny town of Montefelonico who shared homemade limoncello and tales of his stint as a college professor with us?
No matter where my travels have taken me, I've studied a world of faces. They tell stories enough for their characters to jump off the globe, hopefully carrying suitcases of plots with them.
When I was growing up, the dream of my traveling around the world seemed as likely as my looking like Bo Derek. But several years ago, I did go (though I didn’t arrive in Dallas looking like Ms. Derek). Although we made a full rotation, if you tracked our route around the globe, our trail would be a thin rubber band leaving 99% of the world left unseen. Even so, my eyes have been around the world and they were opened to new cultures, new food and new characters.
My eyes have seen the spot on Mykonos where Shirley Valentine’s dreams (and mine) came true. They’ve seen the Istanbul bazaar and the Acropolis from a nearby hilltop restaurant. They’ve seen dainty painted eggs in a Salzburg shop, Mount McKinley on a rare clear day, Pope John Paul II's coffin in the crypt below St. Peter's Basilica, and the van Gogh museum in Amsterdam (another dream come true).
I’ve yet to put together a collage of saved ticket stubs, museum literature, menus, beach pebbles and coins, but we have over 3,000 pictures from our trip, photos of the rich landscape of cobalt seas and white columns, of glaciers and rocky beaches.
Of us eating fat raspberries in The Netherlands and toxic foogoo in Japan.
Of a cow staring us down from the middle of a winding Swiss road.
Of Greek gods hovering around us.
I treasure the pictures of my guys, the backs of their heads offering me a view of the world from their perspective. Of my dear friend Joy and her big Greek family and our adventures in Athens and Delphi. But I've always been fascinated by the faces of nameless people.
I gathered a lifetime of stories, my mind spinning like the globe we circled, so it’s no surprise I see those nameless people cropping up as characters in my dreams, wheedling their way into future novels. One day maybe I’ll write about the couple on the steps of a Tokyo temple, a bride and groom as stunning as their costumes. Who are they? What twists and turns has their life taken since that day?
Perhaps I’ll write about the surprise and wonder in exotic children, about where they fit in the family tree or what secrets they will learn about their ancestors.
Or maybe I’ll tackle the people whose faces tell stories without words. Will I write about the older woman whose life is laid out in her stature, or about the only English speaking resident in the tiny town of Montefelonico who shared homemade limoncello and tales of his stint as a college professor with us?
No matter where my travels have taken me, I've studied a world of faces. They tell stories enough for their characters to jump off the globe, hopefully carrying suitcases of plots with them.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Advance review: Jacquelyn Mitchard's No Time to Wave Goodbye
By Julie
In June, I was thrilled when Jacquelyn Mitchard selected me to be an early reader for No Time to Wave Goodbye, a sequel to The Deep End of the Ocean, Mitchard's bestselling debut novel and Oprah Winfrey's first book club selection, later brought to life on the big screen.
We were also lucky enough to have Jackie stop by What Women Write for an interview with Pamela in July. As promised then, I'm posting an early review of No Time to Wave Goodbye.
I received my copy in July and couldn't wait to jump right in, but decided to revisit Deep End first. It had been nearly 15 years since I read it. I found a copy at my local library and took my time reading, enjoying the second time even more as I explored the story from a writer's perspective.
The level of detail and layering in Deep End is much more noticeable to me now, and the suspense wasn't any less, even knowing how the book ends. I remembered the main plot points, but was surprised at how much my brain (weary from raising three children!) had forgotten. I highly recommend you read it again, too, or read it for the first time.
On the other hand, No Time to Wave Goodbye could probably stand on its own. It's hard for me to say considering my recent re-acquaintance with Beth, Pat, Vincent, Ben/Sam, and Kerry Cappadora.
What I can say, without hesitation, is I was unable to let this new story rest. I couldn't wait to get my hands back on it no matter how I was distracted by the responsibilities of my own life. No Time to Wave Goodbye is a relatively short read, coming in at 240 pages, maybe half the length of Deep End. I've been a slow reader this year, but I polished it off in less than two days after only a few sittings.
Mitchard brings the reader up to speed on the lives of the Cappadoras and various beloved Deep End characters, revisiting their emotional fallout after experiencing the kidnapping and eventual return of a child, while introducing a new supporting cast of other families who lost children through abductions and participated in a documentary filmed by Vincent.
It is especially gratifying to find out how Beth has reinvented her life, how Vincent climbed out of the quagmire that went along with his guilt at losing his younger brother, and how Ben, who still prefers to be called Sam, is also still pulled between the family who lost and found him again and the innocent father created out of his abduction. Mitchard brings the reader along on the Cappadora's continuing journey to make peace with what happened so many years earlier.
If Deep End was suspenseful in a taut, finely drawn way, No Time to Wave Goodbye is a slam to the chest. Once again, Mitchard deals with the subject of child abductions, but this time, pulls the reader alongside the characters in a heart-pounding race against time to save a child. My adrenaline was as elevated as it was last year reading Jackie's most recent release for adults, Still Summer.
I found a twist at the end slightly unsettling, as certain other readers might, but reminded myself that readers and writers bring varied experiences and backgrounds to the table, which affects how we read and write, and Mitchard is no different. This twist, though incidental to the main plot, may bring about some lively discussion for book clubs or other forums, and that isn't a negative thing. It's the rare author who's disappointed when her books create a stir and get readers thinking.
No Time To Wave Goodbye offically goes on sale September 15 and is available for pre-order. That means, if you're so inclined, you have less than a week to get your hands back on Deep End and prepare yourself for another wild ride, compliments of Jackie Mitchard's skillful storytelling.
From the publisher:
New York Times bestselling author Jacquelyn Mitchard captured the heart of a nation with The Deep End of the Ocean, her celebrated debut novel about mother Beth Cappadora, a child kidnapped, a family in crisis.
Now, in No Time to Wave Goodbye, the unforgettable Cappadoras are in peril once again, forced to confront an unimaginable evil.
It has been twenty-two years since Beth Cappadora’s three-year-old son Ben was abducted. By some miracle, he returned nine years later, and the family began to pick up the pieces of their lives. But their peace has always been fragile: Ben returned from the deep end as another child and has never felt entirely at ease with the family he was born into. Now the Cappadora children are grown: Ben is married with a baby girl, Kerry is studying to be an opera singer, and Vincent has emerged from his troubled adolescence as a fledgling filmmaker.
The subject of Vincent’s new documentary, “No Time to Wave Goodbye,” shakes Vincent’s unsuspecting family to the core; it focuses on five families caught in the tortuous web of never knowing the fate of their abducted children. Though Beth tries to stave off the torrent of buried emotions, she is left wondering if she and her family are fated to relive the past forever.
The film earns tremendous acclaim, but just as the Cappadoras are about to celebrate the culmination of Vincent’s artistic success, what Beth fears the most occurs, and the Cappadoras are cast back into the past, revisiting the worst moment of their lives–with only hours to find the truth that can save a life. High in a rugged California mountain range, their rescue becomes a desperate struggle for survival.
No Time to Wave Goodbye is Jacquelyn Mitchard at her best, a spellbinding novel about family loyalty, and love pushed to the limits of endurance.
In June, I was thrilled when Jacquelyn Mitchard selected me to be an early reader for No Time to Wave Goodbye, a sequel to The Deep End of the Ocean, Mitchard's bestselling debut novel and Oprah Winfrey's first book club selection, later brought to life on the big screen.
We were also lucky enough to have Jackie stop by What Women Write for an interview with Pamela in July. As promised then, I'm posting an early review of No Time to Wave Goodbye.
I received my copy in July and couldn't wait to jump right in, but decided to revisit Deep End first. It had been nearly 15 years since I read it. I found a copy at my local library and took my time reading, enjoying the second time even more as I explored the story from a writer's perspective.
The level of detail and layering in Deep End is much more noticeable to me now, and the suspense wasn't any less, even knowing how the book ends. I remembered the main plot points, but was surprised at how much my brain (weary from raising three children!) had forgotten. I highly recommend you read it again, too, or read it for the first time.
On the other hand, No Time to Wave Goodbye could probably stand on its own. It's hard for me to say considering my recent re-acquaintance with Beth, Pat, Vincent, Ben/Sam, and Kerry Cappadora.
What I can say, without hesitation, is I was unable to let this new story rest. I couldn't wait to get my hands back on it no matter how I was distracted by the responsibilities of my own life. No Time to Wave Goodbye is a relatively short read, coming in at 240 pages, maybe half the length of Deep End. I've been a slow reader this year, but I polished it off in less than two days after only a few sittings.
Mitchard brings the reader up to speed on the lives of the Cappadoras and various beloved Deep End characters, revisiting their emotional fallout after experiencing the kidnapping and eventual return of a child, while introducing a new supporting cast of other families who lost children through abductions and participated in a documentary filmed by Vincent.
It is especially gratifying to find out how Beth has reinvented her life, how Vincent climbed out of the quagmire that went along with his guilt at losing his younger brother, and how Ben, who still prefers to be called Sam, is also still pulled between the family who lost and found him again and the innocent father created out of his abduction. Mitchard brings the reader along on the Cappadora's continuing journey to make peace with what happened so many years earlier.
If Deep End was suspenseful in a taut, finely drawn way, No Time to Wave Goodbye is a slam to the chest. Once again, Mitchard deals with the subject of child abductions, but this time, pulls the reader alongside the characters in a heart-pounding race against time to save a child. My adrenaline was as elevated as it was last year reading Jackie's most recent release for adults, Still Summer.
I found a twist at the end slightly unsettling, as certain other readers might, but reminded myself that readers and writers bring varied experiences and backgrounds to the table, which affects how we read and write, and Mitchard is no different. This twist, though incidental to the main plot, may bring about some lively discussion for book clubs or other forums, and that isn't a negative thing. It's the rare author who's disappointed when her books create a stir and get readers thinking.
No Time To Wave Goodbye offically goes on sale September 15 and is available for pre-order. That means, if you're so inclined, you have less than a week to get your hands back on Deep End and prepare yourself for another wild ride, compliments of Jackie Mitchard's skillful storytelling.
From the publisher:
New York Times bestselling author Jacquelyn Mitchard captured the heart of a nation with The Deep End of the Ocean, her celebrated debut novel about mother Beth Cappadora, a child kidnapped, a family in crisis.
Now, in No Time to Wave Goodbye, the unforgettable Cappadoras are in peril once again, forced to confront an unimaginable evil.
It has been twenty-two years since Beth Cappadora’s three-year-old son Ben was abducted. By some miracle, he returned nine years later, and the family began to pick up the pieces of their lives. But their peace has always been fragile: Ben returned from the deep end as another child and has never felt entirely at ease with the family he was born into. Now the Cappadora children are grown: Ben is married with a baby girl, Kerry is studying to be an opera singer, and Vincent has emerged from his troubled adolescence as a fledgling filmmaker.
The subject of Vincent’s new documentary, “No Time to Wave Goodbye,” shakes Vincent’s unsuspecting family to the core; it focuses on five families caught in the tortuous web of never knowing the fate of their abducted children. Though Beth tries to stave off the torrent of buried emotions, she is left wondering if she and her family are fated to relive the past forever.
The film earns tremendous acclaim, but just as the Cappadoras are about to celebrate the culmination of Vincent’s artistic success, what Beth fears the most occurs, and the Cappadoras are cast back into the past, revisiting the worst moment of their lives–with only hours to find the truth that can save a life. High in a rugged California mountain range, their rescue becomes a desperate struggle for survival.
No Time to Wave Goodbye is Jacquelyn Mitchard at her best, a spellbinding novel about family loyalty, and love pushed to the limits of endurance.
Friday, July 31, 2009
It's the STORY, stupid!
By Susan
I had an “ah-ha moment” recently that has made a huge difference in how, and why, I write. It’s nothing new, and I am not the first to figure this one out. It’s no secret, but by making a small shift in my approach, I am able to look at writing in a totally different light.
It’s all about the story.
Now, that may not seem too earth-shattering. Why else do people read, but to uncover a new tale, something fresh and insightful? Yet when I started my first attempt at a novel, I got lost in the words and forgot what I was writing. It went something like this: I had an idea. Then I added characters, built a basic plotline in my head, and started, with furrowed brow and calloused fingers, to write it down.
The problem was that I obsessed about the verbiage and phrasing, the rewriting and editing, instead of focusing on just telling the story. I was paying attention to the words, not the plot. I wanted each sentence to be perfectly crafted, each paragraph a song. I could see pretty little chapters, wrapped like gifts to form a succinct and flawless novel. In my head, it was all about the writing of it, not about the plot. And it was painfully and shockingly bad.
I never finished that one, with all my obsessions about word choices and sentence structure. Somehow I lost the thread of it in all my high-minded literary attempts at ‘being a writer’. It unraveled, turning into a long journey with no destination. It was the perfect example of trying too hard and going nowhere.
I am a member of several writing groups, and I am lucky to get to listen weekly to other writers read their work aloud. All of them are good writers. And by that, I mean each sentence has a subject and a predicate. No one is too flowery with adverbs, and everyone knows about ‘showing not telling’. There is always good dialog to move the story along. The problem, as I see it, is that not everyone has a solid and interesting story idea. And that’s what will make or break you.
I don’t think that that is a matter of opinion or genre choice, because if the writing is gorgeous and the story is dreadful, no agent is going to take it, because no publisher will publish it, because no one will read it. A good story needs to have some basic elements that I forgot about when I got too caught up in writing and not aware of exactly what I was writing.
Here are some basics to keep in mind when crafting a good story.
1) Stay open-minded, but don’t spin off into the stratosphere. I like to follow where my hand takes me and not always chase my pre-decided plotline, because often I end in a much better place than my original plan would have taken me. However, I have also driven off cliffs with my plot and completely lost whatever I was trying to say. Prolific author John Irving says he plots each book entirely before writing it, and then sticks to his plan. Stephen King claims to have never plotted a book in his life. I believe that there has to be a happy medium. Find your sweet spot between structured and free-form, I say.
2) Remember your protagonist and antagonist, and never forget their motivations. Always keep the motive for their actions at the forefront, and stay true to their personality (hopefully you have given them personality). To do this, you have to know your people pretty well. Why is your protagonist acting the way she does? How does she change throughout the novel? What is her goal, and how does she achieve it? Who is trying to stop her, and why? Some call it character arc and it’s a good term to know.
3) Take me somewhere surprising. Please don’t introduce me to people and then bore me with where they go. Teach me something new. Surprise me with their back-story, something delicious that changes everything. Shock me with a decision they make, but make sure I understand why it makes sense. Pat Conroy did this to me in The Prince of Tides. Every time I read it, I am amazed at what those crazy Wingos do. And I love it every time.
All of this is not to say that a great idea and a great plot will hold up terrible writing, because it won’t. By starting with a great story and good characters who do surprising things, your writing can follow their lead. Just don’t attempt it the other way around.
I had an “ah-ha moment” recently that has made a huge difference in how, and why, I write. It’s nothing new, and I am not the first to figure this one out. It’s no secret, but by making a small shift in my approach, I am able to look at writing in a totally different light.
It’s all about the story.
Now, that may not seem too earth-shattering. Why else do people read, but to uncover a new tale, something fresh and insightful? Yet when I started my first attempt at a novel, I got lost in the words and forgot what I was writing. It went something like this: I had an idea. Then I added characters, built a basic plotline in my head, and started, with furrowed brow and calloused fingers, to write it down.
The problem was that I obsessed about the verbiage and phrasing, the rewriting and editing, instead of focusing on just telling the story. I was paying attention to the words, not the plot. I wanted each sentence to be perfectly crafted, each paragraph a song. I could see pretty little chapters, wrapped like gifts to form a succinct and flawless novel. In my head, it was all about the writing of it, not about the plot. And it was painfully and shockingly bad.
I never finished that one, with all my obsessions about word choices and sentence structure. Somehow I lost the thread of it in all my high-minded literary attempts at ‘being a writer’. It unraveled, turning into a long journey with no destination. It was the perfect example of trying too hard and going nowhere.
I am a member of several writing groups, and I am lucky to get to listen weekly to other writers read their work aloud. All of them are good writers. And by that, I mean each sentence has a subject and a predicate. No one is too flowery with adverbs, and everyone knows about ‘showing not telling’. There is always good dialog to move the story along. The problem, as I see it, is that not everyone has a solid and interesting story idea. And that’s what will make or break you.
I don’t think that that is a matter of opinion or genre choice, because if the writing is gorgeous and the story is dreadful, no agent is going to take it, because no publisher will publish it, because no one will read it. A good story needs to have some basic elements that I forgot about when I got too caught up in writing and not aware of exactly what I was writing.
Here are some basics to keep in mind when crafting a good story.
1) Stay open-minded, but don’t spin off into the stratosphere. I like to follow where my hand takes me and not always chase my pre-decided plotline, because often I end in a much better place than my original plan would have taken me. However, I have also driven off cliffs with my plot and completely lost whatever I was trying to say. Prolific author John Irving says he plots each book entirely before writing it, and then sticks to his plan. Stephen King claims to have never plotted a book in his life. I believe that there has to be a happy medium. Find your sweet spot between structured and free-form, I say.
2) Remember your protagonist and antagonist, and never forget their motivations. Always keep the motive for their actions at the forefront, and stay true to their personality (hopefully you have given them personality). To do this, you have to know your people pretty well. Why is your protagonist acting the way she does? How does she change throughout the novel? What is her goal, and how does she achieve it? Who is trying to stop her, and why? Some call it character arc and it’s a good term to know.
3) Take me somewhere surprising. Please don’t introduce me to people and then bore me with where they go. Teach me something new. Surprise me with their back-story, something delicious that changes everything. Shock me with a decision they make, but make sure I understand why it makes sense. Pat Conroy did this to me in The Prince of Tides. Every time I read it, I am amazed at what those crazy Wingos do. And I love it every time.
All of this is not to say that a great idea and a great plot will hold up terrible writing, because it won’t. By starting with a great story and good characters who do surprising things, your writing can follow their lead. Just don’t attempt it the other way around.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Need characters? Borrow from your family tree.
By Kim
I’m an accidental genealogist. I know it’s a strange hobby for a thirty-five year old, but compiling a family tree can be as much about stories and the characters who lived them as names and dates. What better raw material for a novelist?
Yes, your query would be rejected immediately if you begin with I’ve written a 150,000 word novel about my great uncle; but if that uncle happened to live a compelling life you can always wow an agent with the story first and casually mention your relationship to the protagonist later.
Still not convinced? While researching for my current work in progress, I’ve found Eleanor Douglass, a fiercely independent artist at the turn of the last century (and a minor character in my current book). Then there’s Edgar and Sarah Niles who left New York for the western frontier in the 1880s in a desperate attempt to cure Edgar’s consumption. The level of detail about pioneer life in their letters to family back home is enough to make any novelist salivate. Just last month I discovered that no one has ever written a book on one of the most famous Indian agents during the Revolutionary War. That’s three potential books right there, thanks to my second cousin, my great-great grandparents, and my 6x great grand-uncle.
I never had to search for the subject of my current work in progress. The most cherished fairy tales of my youth all featured a rather colorful character named Carl Ahrens. My grandmother, Tutu, used to entertain me w
ith stories about Carl running away from home to live with the Indians or making a catastrophic attempt to fly off the barn roof. (My daughters cringe when I recite the flying tale, but always ask to hear it again.) As I grew older, the stories multiplied. Carl was a cowboy in pioneer Montana, befriended Calamity Jane, traveled the California coast by covered wagon, and spent an afternoon hiding in a buffalo hollow while warring bands of Indians shot arrows over his head. She never explained how he did all this while suffering from a crippling form of tuberculosis, and it seemed an unimportant detail.
Of course, all good heroes must have a heroine, and Carl found his while working in the Roycroft arts and crafts community. To keep the story interesting, or so I thought, Tutu complicated their relationship in deliciously scandalous ways. Carl, then 38, already had a wife who despised him but wouldn’t let him go. The “Madonna” he worshipped was all of 17. He was a genius with a paintbrush, but cantankerous and destitute. Irresistible as well, apparently, because Tutu occasionally slipped and called them Daddy and Momma.
Having grown up surrounded by paintings of trees that laughed, grieved, danced, and even embraced, I never questioned that my great-grandfather was both a real person and an amazing artist. However, it wasn’t until I was about seven that I began to associate the adventurer with the frail old man in the family photographs. One day my mother saw me playing with a small antique basket that has always fascinated me. She mentioned she believed it was Indian made and had likely been Carl’s. Running my fingers reverently over the basket’s intricate designs, I peered at the nearest old photos. They were candid snapshots instead of the dour portraits that were the vogue of the day. Madonna not only laughed as she sat beside Carl, but leaned into him, sometimes touching his arm or his hand. Carl gazed at her rather than at the camera, an expression of naked adoration on his face. Even then, looking at them made me smile.
We later inherited the photo of Carl I have included in this post. It was the first image I had seen of him as a young man. The resemblance between my real life hero (Dad) and my fictional one (Carl) was so striking that I could no longer doubt even the most outrageous of Tutu’s accounts.
After years of intensive research, I have proved the fairy tales true.
Now, obviously, not everyone has been blessed with such a character in their family tree, and some of you may be reading this and quaking at the idea of committing to a historical novel. I was, too. I fought the inevitable for years, going to college and graduate school and getting a “real job.” When I finally settled down to write something, I spewed out a contemporary and largely autobiographical novel I refer to as “literary vomit.” It is condemned to dwell in a box in my closet for eternity. My next attempt was better – some concepts can be recycled. The third novel was better still and will be worth resuscitating someday. As I typed the last few lines of it, however, I panicked. I minored in history. I took research classes in graduate school. I enjoyed being trapped in a room filled with nothing but old documents that no one had looked at in a century. I had written a novel with an artist protagonist. In short, I had spent the last ten years of my life preparing to write Carl’s story and had no excuses left. Gulp!
Even if you would rather run a mile barefoot on broken glass than look at eighteenth century census records, you can ask questions. Talk to parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Don’t listen simply for the names and dates, but wait for a character to speak to you. Look at those old family photos and study the faces. Some stories can be updated and others will remain firmly in the past. If nothing else, you can probably find some interesting character names. Think about what a conversation piece surnames such as Bottenhagan, Cuthwolf, Dunfrund and Frithogar would be. How about Godfrey Lothier III? He happens to be my 24th great-grandfather, but I’ll share.
I’m an accidental genealogist. I know it’s a strange hobby for a thirty-five year old, but compiling a family tree can be as much about stories and the characters who lived them as names and dates. What better raw material for a novelist?
Yes, your query would be rejected immediately if you begin with I’ve written a 150,000 word novel about my great uncle; but if that uncle happened to live a compelling life you can always wow an agent with the story first and casually mention your relationship to the protagonist later.
Still not convinced? While researching for my current work in progress, I’ve found Eleanor Douglass, a fiercely independent artist at the turn of the last century (and a minor character in my current book). Then there’s Edgar and Sarah Niles who left New York for the western frontier in the 1880s in a desperate attempt to cure Edgar’s consumption. The level of detail about pioneer life in their letters to family back home is enough to make any novelist salivate. Just last month I discovered that no one has ever written a book on one of the most famous Indian agents during the Revolutionary War. That’s three potential books right there, thanks to my second cousin, my great-great grandparents, and my 6x great grand-uncle.
I never had to search for the subject of my current work in progress. The most cherished fairy tales of my youth all featured a rather colorful character named Carl Ahrens. My grandmother, Tutu, used to entertain me w
ith stories about Carl running away from home to live with the Indians or making a catastrophic attempt to fly off the barn roof. (My daughters cringe when I recite the flying tale, but always ask to hear it again.) As I grew older, the stories multiplied. Carl was a cowboy in pioneer Montana, befriended Calamity Jane, traveled the California coast by covered wagon, and spent an afternoon hiding in a buffalo hollow while warring bands of Indians shot arrows over his head. She never explained how he did all this while suffering from a crippling form of tuberculosis, and it seemed an unimportant detail.Of course, all good heroes must have a heroine, and Carl found his while working in the Roycroft arts and crafts community. To keep the story interesting, or so I thought, Tutu complicated their relationship in deliciously scandalous ways. Carl, then 38, already had a wife who despised him but wouldn’t let him go. The “Madonna” he worshipped was all of 17. He was a genius with a paintbrush, but cantankerous and destitute. Irresistible as well, apparently, because Tutu occasionally slipped and called them Daddy and Momma.
Having grown up surrounded by paintings of trees that laughed, grieved, danced, and even embraced, I never questioned that my great-grandfather was both a real person and an amazing artist. However, it wasn’t until I was about seven that I began to associate the adventurer with the frail old man in the family photographs. One day my mother saw me playing with a small antique basket that has always fascinated me. She mentioned she believed it was Indian made and had likely been Carl’s. Running my fingers reverently over the basket’s intricate designs, I peered at the nearest old photos. They were candid snapshots instead of the dour portraits that were the vogue of the day. Madonna not only laughed as she sat beside Carl, but leaned into him, sometimes touching his arm or his hand. Carl gazed at her rather than at the camera, an expression of naked adoration on his face. Even then, looking at them made me smile.
We later inherited the photo of Carl I have included in this post. It was the first image I had seen of him as a young man. The resemblance between my real life hero (Dad) and my fictional one (Carl) was so striking that I could no longer doubt even the most outrageous of Tutu’s accounts.
After years of intensive research, I have proved the fairy tales true.
Now, obviously, not everyone has been blessed with such a character in their family tree, and some of you may be reading this and quaking at the idea of committing to a historical novel. I was, too. I fought the inevitable for years, going to college and graduate school and getting a “real job.” When I finally settled down to write something, I spewed out a contemporary and largely autobiographical novel I refer to as “literary vomit.” It is condemned to dwell in a box in my closet for eternity. My next attempt was better – some concepts can be recycled. The third novel was better still and will be worth resuscitating someday. As I typed the last few lines of it, however, I panicked. I minored in history. I took research classes in graduate school. I enjoyed being trapped in a room filled with nothing but old documents that no one had looked at in a century. I had written a novel with an artist protagonist. In short, I had spent the last ten years of my life preparing to write Carl’s story and had no excuses left. Gulp!
Even if you would rather run a mile barefoot on broken glass than look at eighteenth century census records, you can ask questions. Talk to parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Don’t listen simply for the names and dates, but wait for a character to speak to you. Look at those old family photos and study the faces. Some stories can be updated and others will remain firmly in the past. If nothing else, you can probably find some interesting character names. Think about what a conversation piece surnames such as Bottenhagan, Cuthwolf, Dunfrund and Frithogar would be. How about Godfrey Lothier III? He happens to be my 24th great-grandfather, but I’ll share.
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