It’s all about me. Who knew?
I was watching the Today Show while I ate breakfast, drank coffee and read blogs. My ears perked up when an author was being interviewed about her new book. I listened as Jane Stanton Hitchcock, who I’ve never heard of, talked about her new book, Mortal Friends. Then toward the end of the interview, Ann Curry asked if the Washington characters portrayed in the book were real.
And this is what Jane Stanton Hitchcock said:
“I’m a fiction writer, so all of the characters are me…”
Now that might be the party line, so to speak, but I loved it. It made perfect, indisputable sense to me and is a reasonable way for me to describe how I’ve come up with the fictional characters that grace the page of my WIP. My characters all have parts of me that I like or don’t like or wish I had or am glad I don’t.
I recently wrote a short piece of fiction about an Asian-Irish twenty-two year old. I was twenty-two once. This character doesn’t look like what she is. I grew up with people often asking if I was Jewish. They even did this as I waited to be picked up from Hebrew School.
See? That character is a bit of me.
I know that an answer like Stanton Hitchcock’s is also an exercise in the often elusive ability to CYA.
And yes, that works for me too.
What about you?
Click here for the interview with Jane Stanton HItchcock — and don’t forget to enter to win free books!
Giving away books? You bet.
I’m taking my daughter and a friend to The Taste of Chicago today…which requires a train ride, tickets, lots of treats, crowds and porta-potties.
But with this view and some amazing Chicago fare, who can resist a day away from a computer? Not me!
While I’m gone for the day…try to win some books here.
Points of view and a book review
I wrote a short piece of fiction last weekend based on a thought I’d have months before and a note I’d written to myself.
Note to self: Don’t forget to write this story one day.
So inspired by writers’ posts that encouraged me to stretch my writing legs in many directions - I wrote it in third person, something I never did before. All my blog posts, personal essays and my WIP are all written in first-person. It’s natural to me, even when it’s fiction. But I wanted a challenge. And in 1500 words I found I had no idea what I was doing. I rewrote it a bunch of times before I sent it to generous, fabulous friends for critique. I graciously received amazing help from these writer-friends on my short story. Most importantly, one told me that two of my characters were the same. THE SAME. Crap, she was right. I had to make them different or get rid of one. One character - gone. Then, another friend told me to decide whose head I’m in. Truly? Truly. So I decided who was telling the story - and no - it wasn’t me. Lastly, I was given tips on how to make it more realistic and believable.
And I went back to work with one fewer character and living in someone else’s head.
Ah, the life of a writer.
That being said - it was a fabulous exercise for me - and I one day, maybe, sometime in the future, I might give that third-person thing a try again. Or not.
So this past week when I read a pre-publication date copy (that I received free) of The Castaways by Elin Hilderbrand, I was impressed. She has third person thing down-pat as this novel is told from six different perspectives. SIX! Hilderbrand is in six heads in this book and it works - although it took me a while to learn the characters - once I did - it was easy to dig deep into each of them, to understand the separate histories and motivations and follow along.
I thought, based on the cover that shows a beach and sky and legs that I’d be dipping into women’s fiction or chick lit.
Not so much. It’s a mystery. Who knew? That’s what I get for reading the first page first instead of the inside-cover copy or asking any questions about the book. So much for the Journalism degree.
The Castaways - as they call themselves - are a group of friends on Nantucket, each who internalize and take the blame for the sudden death of two of their own. When these friends die during an anniversary celebration sail, the other six friends submerge as well — into own personal hells. In alternating chapters each character unravels their linked pasts and relationships with the deceased and comes to terms with the present.
The ending wraps everything up nicely but is not staid or predictable. The mystery is solved and I found that satisfying — while normally I don’t need all my bits in a box at the end of a novel, I guess the point of a mystery is to solve it!
There’s a lot to keep track of - but it’s worth the effort. It’s a mystery in solving the death — but it’s really the story of friendships and of trusting yourself and the people you love.
As a reader it kept me coming back night after night - and as a writer it will one day inspire me to give ‘that third person thing’ another try.
In real life, part 3
If my life was a novel, its readers would be confused. I sometimes mix people into different places and times.
I sometimes forget I didn’t know my friend Fern growing up, because I went to junior high and high school with her sister-in-law, meaning, I grew up just blocks away from her husband — and all that happened in Philadelphia — but now we all live near Chicago.
In 2006 I took an online essay-writing class that cost me like, gazillion dollars. The structure included an online-chat-classroom-thing that happened once per week. In this virtual classroom, at my real desk, in my real house I typed my questions. We bantered. We helped one another with writing.
One night during class someone ’said’ something — but I don’t remember what — I just remember it annoyed me. I decided not to respond and was glad no one could see me roll my eyes. If it was a real classroom I’d have been the heckler in the back of the room. I didn’t know how much more I could take - had I signed up for the wrong class? Who were these people anyway? And then…someone did respond. With an appropriate critique - not mean, not snarky, not too hot or too cold. Just right. “Ah,” I thought. There is someone else in this make-believe classroom who is just like me.
I passed her a note. Outside the realm of the classroom I sent a private Instant Message thanking her for speaking up, for chiming in and she responded.
Over the course of the weeks of class we bonded over writing and then discovered we had daughters the same age. We bonded over writing and realized we had the same sense of humor. We bonded over writing and saw we shared reference points. We bonded over writing and revealed similar lives.
Then we were just bonded — and over three years later we are the best of real life friends.
Most of the time I forget I haven’t known her my entire life. I think back to the many places I’ve lived and am amazed she was not there, I mean, how could she not have been?
Sometimes I let others believe we’re not just close friends, but old friends, since admitting that you met one of your besties online usually raises eyebrows. I figure it would just add to the confusion that already follows me everywhere I go.
If you’re ever wondering whether online writing classes are worth the time and money — I’d have to say yes.
* * *
You can read my latest Suburban Kvetch, Get Your Hand Off My Divorce, here.
A summer schedule
II stepped away from my WIP a couple of weeks ago but I didn’t stop writing. I just wrote other things…and I settled into the non-schedule of summer. (And thanks to everyone who was so generous with their kind words and comments on my New York Times online piece.)
I’m enjoying the break from homework stress around here, but I don’t like not knowing when someone might be coming or going.
My kids are doing what kids do in the summer - laying low, laying back, laying on the sofa.
And it’s contagious.
So I need a summer schedule - something I can stick to that allows some wiling away, weeding and chauffeuring an almost 14-year-old - as well as spending time with her when she has no plans. It’s important to work - to keep up the momentum I’ve got going - but it’s more important to not let the summer slip by and only have looked at the monitor - and not what’s going on around it.
I’m trying a new schedule today - of writing and working out and playing. It includes making lists so nothing - including time off - slips through the grates of the grill.
When everything gets turned upside down - how do you stick to a writing schedule?
I’m dipping back into some mom-blogging, just in case reading me here isn’t enough.
Where am I?
I’m guest blogging.
As many of you know, I write all over the world wide web and in many print publications. Sometimes I do jabber on about it. Sometimes I don’t.
This one’s a ‘do.’
Personal feedback is not meant to be taken personally
Last week I left feedback on a writing site — where writers posted their work soley for the purpose of getting feedback.
They only posted short excerpts, so this was merely an exercise in “are you hooked?” and “would you keep reading?”
Now granted, I tend not to grant a lot of leeway. Even in published work I question what I consider to be glitches and mediocre starts. So what am I to think if someone posts something for feedback and I have ample questions and would not keep reading if it were indeed in my slush pile or on my bedside table. But this exercise was for helping writers - if I wasn’t hooked it was my job to say why so perhaps a writer would see his or her work from a new perspective. Comments included all kinds of lengthy suggestions — wording, phrasing, pace and language. For one particular entry I commented on some wording that evoked an odd image in my mind. To me it did not work. TO ME. The words did not make sense. TO ME. And that’s what I said. That the noun and verb jumped out at me as ones that did not go together.
I, in no way, ordered the writer to change them. I’m not a publishing professional and cannot determine what will and will not be published. I am an editor, and if this was my client I would question this choice of words and ask for clarification. I’d suggest trying something else.
I did not leave that feedback so that the writer would send me an email (and I had no idea what it was about, or who this person was, until I realized the odd combo of words) to declare that while this person had a lot to learn about writing — he or she knew everything about that topic and NOUNS do VERB.
I deleted the email, feeling sorry for the writer.
Nothing personal, writer. It was my opinion. I’m a smart cookie and chances are if it didn’t make sense to me there might be someone else who doesn’t get it. Just because it makes sense to you doesn’t mean it is the right choice of words. It doesn’t mean it’s wrong - except for me. It was a virtual ‘no they don’t - oh yes they do’ that I was not/am not willing to get into.
I don’t know this person - don’t care if he or she changes the words, writes or publishes. I had nothing vested. I offer feedback to strangers on websites as a way to hone my own skills and maybe help someone along the way. I’ve edited a lot of stories and essays and novel excerpts — so I know that I can be helpful.
I assume this was a novice writer who just took it too personally. This might be the next Pulitzer Prize winning novel and it might be that I was way off base and that NOUNS do indeed VERB. But to me, it’s an image that doesn’t work — and that won’t change.
It was my opinion.
Nothing personal - except to me.
How did the settlers do it?
We lost power today for a few hours.
I sat still.
I read a book.
I scribbled notes on paper by hand.
I did not open the refrigerator or the laptop.
I plugged a phone into the wall.
I opened the garage door manually.
Frankly,
I’m exhausted.
The character name game
When you were a kid did you hate your name? Do you have a child that wants to be called Big Bird for a while? (My sister-friend did.) I’m not sure my kids ever did that, but my main character is doing it now. She’s poking me incessantly to call her something else. It’s really annoying — but I can’t help but pay attention.
I painstakingly (OK, it was fun) researched names that would be appropriate for my characters. By birth year. By state. By religion. By socio-economic background. But there was a name that stuck in my head. I ignored it because it’s similar to the name of someone I know. I don’t know this person well, but I know her.
But the name has been in my pocket for the past year and a half and I’m thinking about a major Search and Replace, at least in one chapter, to try it on the character and see if it fits.
How do you choose your characters names? Have you ever switched them around or changed them completely? What made you do it and how did you decide?
Would you keep reading?
In the prologue, a beleaguered character takes the phone off the hook. Two paragraphs later the phone rings.
What if you read it twice to make sure you didn’t miss something? What if the next chapter was a new character/time/POV, so that your question as to whether it was another phone/cell phone/dream/imagination was not readily answered.
Not sure if I’ll continue because I can’t shake the fact that an author and agent and a slew of editors missed something very simple.
Would you keep reading?
