Too Many Books

I was tagged by Tina . I love that she tagged me, because I like to answer questions about myself, escpecially with words. I am not a fan of surveys that require a click of a radio button to opt for one of multiple choices. So now that I have established that, I am required (upon penatly of nothing) to tag to other writerly souls. I pick Travener and Roni , and will happily await their responses should they feel compelled to participate. 1. What's the last thing you wrote? What's the first thing you wrote that you still have? Well, the last thing I wrote was a little re-vamp of my mc's breakup with her first serious boyfriend in my WIP. It was kind of fun to be a bit melodramatic, since Laurel is well aware that she is acting that way, and it sort of scolding herself for it. I dig it. The first thing I wrote (creatively) and held onto was a children's book for Young Author's called FREDDY THE BAKER. But, in fairness, I had help from my dad. So, the first t...

I'm feeling rather inspired with my writing. I guess it stems from deciding on a jumping off point: beginning with my main character's childhood. Waves of euphoria rush around in my brain as I rework two short stories into the beginning of my manuscript - fingers fly across the keyboard as I type the words I penned so thoughtfully years ago. My eyes are focused downward, in my lap, where the short stories live on yellowed pages. The word count soars upward, which is fullfilling, and it's interesting work, too. I've made changes to certain sections, adding more depth to the characters, extending certain scenes, giving a more solid voice to the talking heads in Laurel's early life. But, the unwritten lingers in the back of my mind. Now, I can't wait to work on the rest of the book. I think that the majority of my previous frustrations hinged on a strong desire to start from Laurel's childhood. Because, as much as the story is about her attempt t...

As I have referenced in past posts, I'm having a bit of difficulty with the present action in my thus far untitled wip. Here is the meat of the story: Laurel is tweny-five-ish (don't worry, she'll have a definite age before her creator queries anyone) and her exboyfriend dies. She believes it was suicide and that she was, in large part or in some part, to blame, even though they broke up a couple of years before the accident. (Are you intrigued? I hope you are intrigued.) (To prologue or not to prologue? I love my prologue. My mc gets the news: the boy died.) Either way, when the story begins at chapter one, where should it start? I have started it a few ways. I started it a couple of months before David, the aforementioned exboyfriend, died. I started it with Laurel having trouble sleeping. She spirals downward into a certain mental anguish, a manic depression... a preocupation with her past, her present, her, her, herself.  I wrote this for a coup...

While stumbling around this blog  called The Elegant Variation, I discovered a really great article on autobiographical fiction  written by Melvyn Bragg. I'll quote the same passage from the article that Mark Saavas did: It is often thought that autobiography cannot reach into the core of fiction; that the author’s own direct experience is too limiting a factor. That only if you step wholly outside yourself can fiction be formed. But why not step inside yourself? The brain, we now know, is more complicated than the universe, and we are just at the beginning of the exploration of what happens in there. What better laboratory for fiction than the brain that writes it? The more I write fiction, the more I see it as the best way to get at the truth and the only reason for writing it. Autobiography can be a high road to that end. Yes, it might be nine months old, but the article really speaks to me...What do you think?

"blank stares at... blank pages... no easy way to say this..." I'm feeling all Sara Bareilles today. Actually, I am settling in to write, as the hubster is out of the house for the evening and I am left to my own quiet and focused devices. This entry will serve as a little warm-up exercise. My copy of  Rolling Stone came in the mail a couple of days ago, and I spent a bit of time tonight on the  toilet couch reading a few of the articles. This issue's bookshelf column featured a conversation with Nick Hornby . Jonathan Ringen wrapped it up by asking Hornby if he had any advice for "would-be novelists." Here is Hornby's reply: Anyone who says they're writing for themselves is full of shit. That's something that you hear writer's say a lot. I always wonder why their drafts happen to be 90,000 words long, because that's a really strange, random length for a book, but it happens to be the length of most books. You know what I ...