Books that talk

photo credit: Kristin Bradley's Flickr photostream

By Julie

I was chatting with a friend I talk to online nearly every day, another recently published author who's working on the next book. We often compare notes about the business, about news we've heard lately, about who's doing what where, how a book seems to be doing, etc. In the midst of our conversation, I said something about a book that didn't necessarily catch my attention, but had done very well. I said, "Even if it didn't speak to me, it apparently spoke to a lot of people!"

And then, my friend said ...

"That's what we want. Books that talk!"

I laughed, but then I asked her permission to use that phrase in my blog post. It seemed pretty genius. What are people looking for when they pick a novel to read? Or a novel to represent or purchase if they are an agent or an editor?

Books that talk. 

What does that mean? I think maybe a few things.

1) As I already said, it's a book that speaks to readers. That's a fuzzy term, but I think it means readers feel the story had something in it for them beyond just an entertaining interlude. Not just a way to escape for a few hours, but a means to feeling:

• Understood
• Moved
• Provoked
• Inspired
• _____? (What else?)

An obvious example these days is The Fault in our Stars by John Green. I don't even have to explain that one to you. It has obviously spoken to a lot of people, young adults and older adults alike.

2) It's a bit of a ventriloquist. It makes people want to talk. They are so moved or provoked or inspired that they have to tell someone else about it.

For me, last year that was Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell. I mean, I obviously can't even stop talking about it here on the blog! Others I've heard mentioned again and again at book clubs I attended over the last year are Me Before You by Jojo Moyes and Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline

3) It doesn't just talk. It has legs. It gets the attention of more than just a small segment of society, and frequently jumps borders when it comes to target audience. It's a YA book that adults like. A sci-fi book that readers of mysteries enjoy. It has movement. It catches on. It's the right book for the right time. It's ...

The Hunger Games

Here's something to think about, though. Just because a book talks, does it necessarily have a big mouth? I think certain books described as "quiet" have also met each of these criteria and sold very well. A few I can think of right off hand:

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson

Olive Kitteredge by Elizabeth Strout

What else do you think makes a book talk? What book talked to you lately?

Revising Your Novel

By Susan

This morning, for the first day of summer 2013, I enjoyed my coffee on my Texas patio before diving back in to my day's work of revising my manuscript. I called my father to wish him a happy birthday and we exchanged news. And at the end of our conversation he said—as he has ended every conversation with me for the past few months—"Turn in the manuscript."

I suppose it appears to him that I am sitting on this draft. He read an early version in March, and—because he is my father—loved it. Yet just because a draft is complete doesn't mean that it is the best possible draft you can submit, whether to agents with a query letter, to your agent, or to your editor. Editing as you go ensures that you have fewer errors—that's true. But revisions are not line edits. To revise is to step back and see your work differently. Revision is to go deeper.

In the course of the past few months, I've learned some tips about my own process that might be helpful to any writer while tackling revisions. Of course, each writer has his or her own way of working, but I've found that by gathering every tool possible from other writers, I've been able to fine-tune what works for me and for this manuscript. I've learned that even though the first draft may take months or years, you're not doing yourself any favors by letting it loose in the world without taking the time to revise. Here are some tips:

1.     Take things apart—and don't go easy. Break down chapters by sentence, paragraph and scene. Take out weak verbs and flimsy metaphors. Watch for overused phrases and words. Find and hone your theme. Writer Don Roof says, "I've found the best way to revise your own work is to pretend that somebody else wrote it and then to rip the living shit out of it." I couldn't agree more. Grade each chapter as though your are your own writing professor. Sometimes this is the only way not to hurt your own feelings.

2.     Ask yourself: Is this scene my very best work? Treat every scene in your manuscript as the most important one. Would you read this scene aloud at a book signing? Submit it to a contest? Seek publication as a short story? I found myself saying to myself, "Well, this one's not so great, but look at the next scene!" The problem with that logic is that agents, editors and readers aren't going to get past the weak scenes to find the 'good ones.' Make every scene the best it can be. I've completely rewritten several chapters—adding richness and detail, cleaning up dialog, creating symbolism—just because I asked myself that question and answered it honestly.

3.     Take as much time as you need. Sometimes, time is your best editor. Think through the order of your action: Is the tension building? Are you ending each chapter with a reason for the reader to turn the page? Do you need to raise the stakes for your protagonist and push him to risk more? Answer these bigger questions with long walks and yoga. Maybe yard work or preparing a meal. Maybe you need to sit in the sand and stare at the ocean. Whatever works for you, just be sure that you take the thinking time that you need to figure out your best solutions. Then don't be afraid to make the improvements you need to make.

4.     Rediscover your characters. Make sure they find their way through your manuscript. What is each character's goal, purpose, role and challenge? Are they interesting enough, compelling enough? I'm not of the school that they have to be "likeable" enough, but they must drive the action. Do they need more backstory, or less? Are they real and rich, or thin and stock? Give them quirks. Allow them to get angry and make mistakes. Above all—make sure they grow because of their choices and develop as the plot unfolds. No character should arrive at the end of a novel the same person they were going in; they've either gotten better or worse. Push them to become who you've created them to be.

5.     Embrace change. Read your manuscript from start to finish. I suggest print it on paper and not read it from the screen. Make notes in the margins. Then allow your revisions to take you somewhere you don't expect. If the plot changes, don't suppress it—allow it to flow. Sometimes, you'll have to reign it back in, but sometimes it will take you somewhere glorious. Don't be afraid or too stubborn. Think of yourself as a storyteller—not just a writer. And allow that story to be the best one you can possibly tell.

6.     If you can't trust yourself, work with a partner you trust instead. Critique partners need to be a unique combination of cheerleader and coach. Do they know how to push you to bring your best work to the forefront? If they are constantly full of praise, they're not the right reader for you. At the same time, if their criticism is vague, you won't know where to start. A good critique partner doesn't rewrite every sentence for you, but they can see holes in your plot, weaknesses in characters, and can provide ideas for pacing and tension. And be careful: don't overuse a critique partner to the degree that they are too close to your work to advise, too tired of it to help, or no longer able to take as much time as you feel you need. Remember: sometimes the only cook you need in your kitchen is yourself.

7.     Give yourself deadlines, but also the permission to break them. Don't rush your own creative process. Keep it beautiful and remember that it is your art—no one else's. If you are under an editor's deadline, be fair and gracious if you need extensions, but also work to have realistic goals to begin with. Setting goals will keep you from abandoning your draft when it gets difficult. And it will get difficult.

8.     Infuse it with love. If you're not writing something because you love it, perhaps you should rethink why you write. Do you love the process, the characters, the setting, the story? Make each sentence feel like a poem. Use beautiful language, but don't overdo it. Vary your sentence length to give it rhythm. And love it as though it's your favorite song—even though you might get sick of it, you can't help but sing it over and over.

A Letter to Kim's Grade 30 Teacher

By Kim

Before school starts each year I compose a letter to my children’s teachers. I try to imagine myself a stranger to my kids and write down anything that would be helpful for me to know in order to keep them happy and productive for the school year. I’m careful to be honest about their strengths, things I hope they will work on throughout the year, and personality quirks. Invariably, the teachers thank me for letting them know that Sasha holds a grudge if the teacher sits her beside a ‘talker’ and then gets in trouble for telling the kid to be quiet or that if Ashlyn’s tummy hurts the best way to make it stop is to minimize and distract, not call Mommy.

As I wrote this year’s letters I started wondering what might be said about me if I were headed off to grade 30 this year and decided it may make for an interesting writing exercise. Here is the result:

Dear Teacher:

Kim will be in your grade 30 class this year and I thought you may find it helpful if I were to tell you a little about her in order to start the school year off right.

She is a highly motivated student but may become messy or forgetful if bored. She would rather read than watch TV or play video games, and nothing would make her happier than if you would assign a hundred page dissertation on some obscure historical or literary figure. She finds research fun. So fun, in fact, that sometimes she may waste a whole week reading and transcribing a stack of letters from the 1840s instead of staying on task. If at all possible store any math books in another classroom. Too many numbers frighten and overwhelm her. If you replace numbers with x and y she will feign illness the next morning.

As for behavior, Kim will not be disruptive unless the volume of noise in the classroom rises past the point where she can no longer hear herself think. That level is much lower in Kim than in the average middle-aged adult and, once crossed, will soon lead to agitation and possible shouting. In order to prevent this it may be best to have her separated from her peers for part of the day. The room need not be padded – just quiet. Surrounding her with art and allowing her to snack frequently will keep her calm and focused.

It has been a disruptive summer with family vacations, multiple illnesses and a general lack of routine. This has left Kim a bit more distractible than usual and she may have difficulty sitting still. She will not hold a grudge if you tell her she must write 100 words before she can leave her seat. By the end of the day she will likely be on par with the rest of the students as far as word count. Please keep in mind that 100 words on the screen was likely 400 words of actual writing – she’s an extreme perfectionist and a compulsive rewriter. I’m sure with your guidance and patience you can get her relax her standards enough to finish her tasks in a timely manner.

No, she does not have ADHD. It just seems like it sometimes. If all else fails, you have my permission to tie her to her chair. Good luck!

Sincerely,

Kim’s mother

Waiting for my real life to begin …

By Julie

How many times have you heard someone use the word "When …" right before stating a goal? I've heard it more times than I can count, especially in the context of writing.

"When I'm finished with (task, event, season of life), I plan to write a book."

"When my kids are (grown, in school, out of school, out of diapers, out of debt, out of trouble … out of my freaking hair!), I plan to finish the book."

"When I finally figure out (what life is all about, what I want to say, why the world is round), I plan to start my memoir."

This blog post is going to sound harsh to some of you. It's not meant to sound that way. Not much anyway.

I've just learned that waiting for your real life to begin means you probably are going to be living your fake life for a long, long time.

I totally understand the demands of life and how hard it is, when it's all you can do simply to exist from day to day, to put time into something that seems ...

Frivolous.

Exhausting.

Scary.

In the last decade, I spent several years as a single-again mom, getting an infant out of diapers and into school, living paycheck to paycheck, wondering how I was going to ever get enough sleep, much less get ahead. Then I spent a few more years as a newlywed, going back to school full-time to get my master's degree while working full-time and still trying to fit raising three kids in there somewhere. Then I spent some years working many hours per week doing freelance work simply to contribute to my household's income.

Somewhere in there, in the midst of all that activity, I finally realized it was time for my real life to begin.

So I started writing a book. Eventually, I finished one. Then another. And I'm still going.

And guess what? I decided I like my real life, and I'm glad I stopped waiting for it to begin.

I've been fortunate enough in the process to have the opportunity to begin writing full-time (but not until we went through our budget and decided what we really, honestly could live without in order for me to do it). I know that one day I may have to return to some kind of job to bring in money if I don't start earning money as a writer and if our circumstances call for it.

I have to be honest. Some days, I think about my other real lives:

• The one where I live in a walkable city – one with great public transportation, great music performed live frequently, great theater, great restaurants, great weather . . . you get the picture. But last weekend, my husband and I decided it was time to stop complaining and start doing our research. We plan to take some of our upcoming vacations in places we believe might come close to that dream so that when it's time, we'll be ready.
  
• The one where I'm skinny again and exercise almost every day and still eat dessert on Friday nights. Several months ago, I started heading that way and have lost about 15 pounds, but I still catch myself dreaming about the ultimate goal instead of being thankful that I am already a little bit healthier and that I can fit back into things I couldn't wear last year and knowing I might meet my goal if I keep on keeping on.
  
• And the one where I already have an agent and a publishing deal and I'm going crazy trying to write one book, revise another, and market another. But hey, at least I'm finishing books and sending out queries (okay, Joan, probably not as often as I should be these days, but I have a master plan, you see).

And baby steps do count, I think.

What about you? What does your real life look like? Are you still waiting for it to begin?

I love this song by Colin Hay (yes, formerly of Men at Work!), and this scene from Scrubs brings the point home even more with a little bit of humor and a good dose of goosebumps at the end. The first time I found the song online, I played it over and over again and some kind of light bulb lit up in my mind. It was about then that I got serious about my writing and started living my real life.

Don't be that girl.

Photo credit: anna qutermuth's Flickr photostream / by Creative Commons License

Never say never

By Julie

A month ago, you may recall, I blogged about Setting as Character, and talked about starting a new project with a character who'd been haunting me for quite some time.

Since then, I've explored the new story, walking around in the daze that hits me at the beginning and near the end of writing a fiction manuscript. Some days it seems I've done nothing – no work at all.

But I remind myself that at least 50 percent of writing a new story is mental work. The hours I've spent gazing into the middle distance, likely appearing completely vacant to those around me, I've been getting to know my characters – their personalities and their plights, their quirks and their conflicts. I've been imagining them in various settings and observing to see how they act and react. I've been trying out names and hair colors and houses to live in. I even came up with a working title. (ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE, rooted in the jazz standard by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein from the 1930s. Perfect both for the era of my story and the theme.)

All these things, I've done before for other stories.

You may also remember how I called myself a "plotser" in my last post. I've typically had a general idea of where I'm going, maybe even as much as a list of ten scenes or so that could happen, and taken off running, going where my thoughts lead me, typing as fast as I can to follow them. I really enjoy this organic approach to writing. And I've had a visceral response to the thought of starting out with more than that – a shudder.

But this time, I've decided to try something new. My story is broader than anything I've attempted before, both in the period of time it covers and in scope. I began to feel a little nervous as I wrote a few sample scenes, worrying the story might get away from me. That I might either chase too many rabbits or forget to chase the important ones.

So, I've written an outline. Put your Craig Ferguson accent on and say it with me:

"I knoooooow!"

I began by writing a short synopsis, using a modified version of Randy Ingermanson's Snowflake Method, then expanding it little by little into a longer synopsis.

I decided it was pretty exciting to have a synopsis written before I'm querying. The synopsis for the manuscript I'm querying now was written after the fact, and it wasn't much fun when I was so sick of the story I thought I'd scream before I finished that darn thing. (Not to mention it's apparently a heck of a lot harder to condense 400 pages into just a few than it is to start with a few and go up from there.) I hope I remember to dig out these early documents when it's time to formalize my synopsis.

These last few days, I broke the synopsis down into chapters. The trickiest part came first – combining two separate storylines (one in the present, one in the far past, two different first-person narrators) into a fairly coherent narrative. In fact, I'm still finessing that part, and feel sure I'll be doing it continuously while writing this story. It's almost as if I'd written two separate synopses, and now I'm having to weave them together and check to see if the transitions from past to present and back again make at least a modicum of sense.

So, now, I'm left with a document that lists 44 chapters, each showing which narrator is speaking, each giving a somewhat detailed picture of what happens in that chapter. I suspect, because I do like to allow my characters the freedom to surprise me, that this outline isn't static. I figure it will evolve and grow in some places and shrink in others as I write the story. I might even be required to totally revamp the thing as I go.

In the meantime, I feel strangely in control of my new story – probably more than I've ever felt before when starting a new story.

And it comes as a huge surprise to this pantser turned plotser turned almost a plotter, that I like this feeling. I'm ready to write.

What about you, readers? What have you've said you'll never do when writing a first draft or starting some other creative project? Would you consider ... reconsidering?

Photo courtesy of Flickr's syymza, by Creative Commons License.

How beginning a new novel is a lot like decorating for the holidays

By Julie

Last week, after hemming and hawing and procrastinating for weeks and weeks, my family and I made our annual appointment to buy a (formerly) live Christmas tree and decorate it Saturday afternoon. The appointment was necessary – I have teenagers.

After hemming and hawing and procrastinating for months and months, I make an appointment with myself to start a new novel. NaNoWriMo seems like as good a time as any.

Friday evening, after not really being in the mood this year, I was finally feeling a little festive. But in typical Kibler fashion, we puttered around an extra hour Saturday. Finally, we started out with little enthusiasm for the task ahead.

By the end of October, I'm finally feeling a little enthusiasm for my new story after spending too long revising my old one. Still, I putter around, not writing my first words until November second.

It might surprise you that in our group of three females and one male, the females agreed on the first tree we propped up, while my husband wandered around a bit, saying, "Are you sure this one isn't better?" and "I think this one is straighter." But, nope, we girls are usually pretty good at making a speedy Christmas tree decision.

The subject is easy to identify. I've been thinking about it for months. Others say, "Why don't you write about this?" Or "That would make a good story." But I know the one. We writers are usually pretty good at identifying our next story topics.

We dragged the tree on top of the old SUV we keep for exactly that purpose (well, okay, it's also paid off!) and tied it down. Though they never let me do much of the tying. I like to practice my lasso skills, and the others get bored while I miss nearly every throw over the top of the vehicle.

I create a beautiful, clean new file, nail down a working title and tentative outline, and spend far too much time selecting character names and songs for my writing soundtrack.

All this seemed very idyllic. Such a happy family occasion! We will get home and get this done before we know it! And have fun, too!

All this new writing is kind of like a honeymoon! The words fly onto the page so fast! My fingers can hardly keep up with my brain!

Then the fun began.

Let the fun begin.

We got the tree home, argued over who held the thing up and who got to cut off the net. Who put on the lights and who untangled the beads. Whether that strand went here or there, and whether to wind it around or up and down. Whether the sixteen-year-old was really helping by sleeping on the couch, or whether it was even too much to ask the twelve-year-old to let her sister help her. I tried to stand back, to allow the kids to learn the art of tree decoration by trial and error instead of by Mom's Exact Plan.

The characters start preening for attention. "Pick me! Pick me!" one says, begging to tell all her back story at once, while the quiet one in the corner is obviously hiding something big. I can't get some of them to open up at all. I try to stand back, allow the characters to mold themselves, to find their own paths in my story instead of forcing them into my preformed direction.

I wondered if it was all worth it. Whether, in the interest of family harmony, we should have given up on Christmas this year.

I wonder if it's all worth it. In the interest of sanity, should I forget my dream of being an author and find a day job?

After an hour or so, we were about ready to call the cops to solve our domestic squabble, but then something began to creep in, to take us by surprise.

After a few weeks, I'm about ready to call a therapist, ask what kind of crazy I am for thinking I'm capable of writing a story anyone in their right mind would read—much less pay to read. But then something begins to take me by surprise.

We got to the good part. Unwrapped the ornaments, laughed at the awful school pictures on the handmade ones, oo-ed and ah-ed over the delicate heirlooms, shed a few tears over the ones that wouldn't make it many more years unless we bronze them. We hung the stocking holders and the stockings sewn by my mother and grandmother. Cheered up drab corners with the freestanding decorations and rediscovered ones we'd forgotten.

I'm getting to the good part. Unwrapping my characters' secrets, giggling at the ones who shock me with their humor in the midst of depressing predicaments, dropping my jaw at the serendipity I'm seeing in the scenes I wrote earlier that perfectly set up later ones I didn't even see coming, shedding my own tears when my characters grieve. Embellishing the scenes with all the senses. Prettying up drab dialogue with a clever turn of phrase. Rediscovering layers I've almost forgotten to include.

Before long, the house was filled with a different kind of oxygen. It was a little brighter, a little cozier, a little more ... peaceful.

Before long, my manuscript is filled with something new. It's a little more dynamic, a little more promising. A little more ... alive.

For a few hours, life seemed just right.

For a few weeks, the story seems just right.

Of course, this doesn't take into account how we had to do it THREE times. Yes, the stand was cracked. The water leaked. We had to buy a new stand, take off the most delicate ornaments, and transfer the tree. Then, the next morning, the tree was leaning at a scary angle. The new stand didn't work and the tree wasn't sucking up water, so we bought a new new stand. Took the ornaments off. Propped the tree on the vee of a ladder. Sawed off more trunk. Moved the tree. But the last time seemed to stick.

Of course, this doesn't take into account that by the time I'm ready to query my novel, I'll have done ninety-nine revisions. The glaring plot hole. The entire point of view I have to remove. The chapters I have to rearrange. The whole new dimension of conflict I add so the story doesn't fall flat on its face. But eventually, it's a wrap.

Oh, yeah, and the dog ate a hand-sized hole in the tree skirt my mom sewed by hand fifteen years ago.

Oh, yeah, and the hook I think is so unique? Something eerily similar will inevitably show up on Deal Lunch before I write The End.

But still, it's our home, our unique decorations, and our one-of-a-kind method of getting it done. And it began to look a lot like Christmas. Finally.

Still, it's my story, my unique spin, and my one-of-a-kind way of putting the words to paper. It's beginning to look a lot like a novel. Finally.

Happy Holidays and Happy Novel Writing!

NaNoWriMo, the month that was and is no longer

By Julie

Like the leaves from the tree in the photo on your left, November is gone. December is upon us, and for several of us at What Women Write, that means a huge sigh of relief.

At the beginning of the month, Pamela wrote of how as a group, we'd decided to make some writing goals in honor of National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, as it's affectionately called. Or NaNo, as it's sometimes not so affectionately called when the weariness sets in.

We thought we'd do a wrap up and weigh in now that it's over.

You heard from Kim last week.

Kim talked about her writing process and how a marathon to write a massive, untamed number of words over the course of a month would have completely messed with not only her mind, but her fictional account of her great-grandfather's life. Nonetheless, we also saw how the group dynamic she experienced at our retreat contributed to a productive month for her, even in the midst of sick children AND animals plus holiday travel.

You also heard from Joan.

She started out with good intentions of completing thirty thousand words on her work in progress, but quickly found that it wouldn't work to do it that way, and a new story wiggled into her brain and didn't let go. In a little more than two weeks, she managed to write more than fifteen thousand words on a brand new idea, one she hadn't spent time brainstorming or outlining at all. Then, she decided it was time to lay the pen aside for the holiday weekend and spend time in the real world, not always easy for us introverted writer types. Word on the street is she had a lot of fun.

Susan says:

I wrote about 7,000 words, and focused on my NaNo goal for about, hmmm, 24 hours. Then life got in the way. In addition, since I wasn't starting a new project and wasn't really following the rules of the challenge, I felt a little freer in creating my own rules, which meant a slightly more structured, but still chaotic, writing life. Overall, November was a very good writing month for me, especially because of our writing retreat – I left rejuvenated about my work and what I was trying to put to paper.

As far as NaNo or NaNot? I'm not on either side of the fence. I can see great advantages if your full-time work is writing, but I can also see how upending your apple cart by attempting to completely change your style can be a detriment. I just say, stay focused and push forward at whatever pace works for you. To those who completed 30,000 to 50,000 words last month? Wonderful job! Keep writing!

And our fearless leader, Pamela, who reserved our retreat space, organized the food, made room assignments, loaded most of us up and chauffeured us, and overall made it a great writing weekend, says:

I didn't really do NaNo in the true sense of the movement. I did take a renewed look at my WIP, set about embracing the story and got better organized with it. All that is a round-about way of saying that I didn't accomplish much in November. :) Though I did take another look at polishing a completed project (along with Joan), and that edit will be completed by week's end. Plus, I managed to keep up with my job. So, hard to complain.

As for me, Julie, my own original goal was to add fifty thousand words to my work in progress, a kind of modified NaNo goal, as the "rules" call for a brand new project.

Two years ago, I set a goal of adding forty thousand words to "finish" a manuscript. Imagine my surprise when I made that goal, only to discover over the next several months that it took another thirty-five thousand or so to really finish it. But I would never have made it to "the end" had I not written the 40K, because those are words I mostly kept – much of the earlier stuff eventually got cut. I truly found the heart of my story that month.

This year, I figured I should up my goal and see where the challenge took me. It soon became clear, though, that 50K would exceed the pace that kept me sane and produced material I wasn't ashamed to read again. I wasn't embarrassed to revise my goal down to forty thousand, telling myself it was kind of like the offering goals they used to post in the country churches I attended at various times in my life – the "Praise the Lord" goal and the "Hallelujah" goal. Had I met the 50K hallelujah goal, I probably would have then proceeded to collapse on the floor for the entire month of December.

I'm happy to report, however, that I squeaked in with 40,253 words at 11:50 p.m. Monday night and am still quite alert.

It wasn't an easy month. Not by a long shot. My final writer identity crisis came in the very last weekend, after the turkey and dressing had been cleared away. My brave husband wouldn't let me give up. He spent time with me Saturday evening brainstorming the story I'm writing, helping me to see it is an important story with a universal message. I'd pretty much declared it worthless and insignificant after struggling to write day after day and being sick to death of it, and that bothered me more than I care to admit.

When I took Barbara (Samuel) O'Neal's Voice Two class a few years ago, it became clear how important it was to me to identify topics that go beyond entertainment and address subjects that challenge readers – ones that get people talking. I am so grateful to my husband for that pep talk and not letting me quit.

My plan now is to let those 40K words "set a while." They'll simmer and stew while I finish deep editing my last story and begin pestering agents with it again. My next goal is to add perhaps another ten thousand words or so to it this month and then maybe even try another marathon of sorts in January and February to complete a rough draft.

And now for a drum roll, please!

Big, huge accolades go to Elizabeth, our solitary "winner" in the true spirit of NaNoWriMo.

She signed up on the site, followed the rules to a T, and clocked in on time for her final count. After watching her work like a speed demon at our retreat, none of us were surprised to see this message to the group early Monday morning:

And . . . 50,928! I'm done!

Elizabeth went on to say:

I found a novel I really like after all, and now I'm far enough in to quit the ridiculous waffling I've been mired in since summer (or earlier) and so I'm going to finish this dang book, and if I don't get an agent with the queries I've got going, then I'll query this come spring or whenever it's done.

We couldn't be prouder of Elizabeth for putting her mind to this task and getting it done. Not only that, but her nine-year-old daughter met and exceeded her own NaNo for Kids goal and plans to continue and finish her story and self-publish it on Lulu.

The way I see it, with a little guesstimating, the members of What Women Write tallied up well over 115,000 new words this month, not to mention a wealth of new knowledge about how we write and how far we can push ourselves.

And that's no little feat.

What about you, readers? Anyone else care to share about their November goals and results? Please weigh in with a comment!

Comfort Zones

By Susan

I listened to a radio show this week where four women were thrown into crazy situations to see how they would react. One scenario was a day of skydiving. In the next, their life coach stripped naked and jumped into Lake Michigan and instructed them all to join her and they dutifully and joyfully followed suit. The tests seemed to have a few things in common: the element of surprise, facing a fear, and leaving your comfort zone. It made me want to do something different and cool too, until I thought about my novel. For whatever reason, I've been stuck in my same habits lately with no plans to change. And it's not working.

Writers, just like anyone else, sometimes have a hard time in leaving a comfort zone. We work very hard to classify ourselves as “YA” or “Women’s Fiction” or “Mystery” and not to cross any lines. We sit in the same chair in the same room at the same desk and write, basically, the same stuff, over and over. If we have poor habits we keep them. If we have great habits, then guess what? We keep them too. This is what separates the prolific from the pitiful.

And changing our writing habits is like deciding to jump out of a plane. (Note that I said ‘deciding.’ I can’t imagine it’s nearly as thrilling as the actual jump.) I switched from writing longhand to the computer after completing the first 30,000 words of The Angel’s Share, my work in progress. Then I started The Angel’s Share over after I decided that the whole thing needed to be in first person after all. Sometimes, as they say, a change can do you good. (Then again, sometimes I think maybe I just don’t know what I’m doing yet.)

This month, we here at What Women Write are participating in a writing blitz called National Novel Writing Month (or in some cases, our own versions of the challenge). The official goal is to complete a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. For some of us, it’s been uncomfortable. Or rather I should say, for me it’s become uncomfortable. Daunting. Overwhelming. Even, shall I say it, stupid. I don’t want to scribble a bunch of crap. I am stressed because I'm not supposed to edit as I go (and I'm great at editing while I go). I tell myself that I have no time for that kind of commitment. The thought of doing something a different way feels so weird that I can’t even fathom it will work.

And then I realize with all my internal grumblings that the problem isn't NaNo, the problem is simply me and my crappy habits. That’s when I think that doing something like write 50,000 words in a month might actually be a great idea. It could breathe fresh air into my novel. Frankly, what I’ve been doing (which is brooding, thinking, outlining, and daydreaming) hasn’t been working so great lately anyway.

I am going to do it. I’m going to step out of my comfort zone and do something that I wouldn’t otherwise do, and that’s committing to writing 50,000 works in the next 30 days. I’m not jumping out of a plane (though I might some day) and I’m not jumping naked into Lake Michigan (though it’s completely possible that one day I could), but I’m jumping into The Angel’s Share with a newfound goal- and the goal is as simple as getting the words on the page. I can’t think of a single thing that I have to lose.

Joy and Worry

By Susan

My 7-year-old daughter is full of joy. She is one of those people who cracks jokes, sees humor in everything, and seems to surf through her uncomplicated life on one big joyous wave. Sometimes it’s completely exhausting, especially when there are soccer practices and laundry and homework and bedtime to worry about. I often worry about all the other things we are not doing, instead of taking a moment and laughing with her. I choose worry because I am her mother and she chooses joy because it’s fun. Motherhood, as Moms know, is fun. But it’s not as fun as being seven years old.

Writing is like being the mother of a joyful seven-year-old. The characters on the page dance off in different directions, spinning and laughing while you try to pull them back so they have meaning and substance. Sometimes it’s like herding cats. You want your protagonist to repent and change, to complete his character arc, yet all he wants to do is continue on his merry little way without apology. Or your antagonist laughs at you because you cannot think of anything clever for him to do next. And so you worry. Just like you worry about your children. When that happens, writing isn’t as fun anymore.

Writing is supposed to be fun, right? We do it because we love it, because we have to, because it frees us. We nurture our characters, and we fret over little details the same way we dress our daughters on picture day. Yet just like our kids, our works in progress take on a life of their own. They start doing their own thing. If I don’t worry about my novel (or so I seem to think), the next thing I know it’ll be sneaking out to ride around with boys who drive convertibles. It’ll be smoking cigarettes and saying dirty words, leaving me alone, waiting up for it, hoping that it comes back to me. All of this, of course, shows up as procrastination or writer’s block or lack of discipline or just plain lazy, bad writing. That’s when it becomes easy to blame the unruly child I have created rather than take ownership for my own habits. That’s when I worry it’s all garbage. That’s when it’s not fun anymore.

Yet our characters are also much different from our children: we make them kill their lovers or run from the law or get caught up in a tangled web that is not of their own doing. We root for them, and we hope our readers will too. We almost always know they will have a happy ending, unless we kill them first. We want to share in their joy. Then we allow worry back onto the page. At the base of it, when we are worrying about them we are actually worrying about ourselves. Will I get an agent? Will this ever be published? Why am I doing this, anyway?

And so I am trying now, quite mindfully, to release my worry about my characters and about myself, and allow the words to take me where they want me to go. In the process of releasing the rules and writing for joy, I’m finding a clearer voice in my narrative. I like my book a lot more. Sure, there are plenty of unforeseen things I could worry about. Or I can just choose the joy and write for the sake of writing. Why not have fun while I’m here? I’ve created a perfect sentence or two. I’ve drawn beautiful landscapes out of phrases. I’ve fallen in love right alongside my characters and been heartbroken when I wrenched the lovers apart. Now that’s having fun. If I push and pull my characters and tweak the story enough, perhaps I can let my worry go and just enjoy the moment.

If you are famous and tortured by your art, it can be hip to talk about the pain of writing, the blood that flows from your pen, the way you agonize over every manuscript. But for me? My family is my life, my work is my passion, and writing is my fun. And so the destination (being published) doesn't matter as much for me anymore. That's what caused my worry to begin with. I’m deciding to enjoy every minute of my writing journey instead and to just have fun. Like they say, life is all about the journey, not the destination. My writing is much more fun now since I left the writing worry behind.

Besides, I’ll need to save the worry for my daughters.