I was on the road for 45 days and what did it bring me, this Gone Writing trip?
An almost finished manuscript and a new level of understanding of my writer’s brain and how it works (and how and when it doesn’t work). Gone Writing brought me change.
I think Maurizio Nannucci’s Neon tubes nails it:
Neon Tubes (2003) by Maurizio Nannucci (1939), Peggy Guggenheim Collection
After 45 days on the road, it’s time to go home and last night’s show was the perfect ending to this road trip. Fiddler on the Roof is all about love and loss, just like my journey was rediscovery of the power of love and loss. A rediscovery that I could pour into the story I’m working on.
I didn’t have to wait long before I realized that Fiddler on the Roof perfectly illustrated what writing means to me, Tevye’s first lines were enough. I’ve adapted them slightly here to show you (and I hope Joseph Stein will forgive me for changing his words):
“A writer on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But here, in our little village of Fiction, you might say every one of us is a writer on the roof trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple story without breaking his neck. It isn’t easy. You may ask ‘Why do we stay up there if it’s so dangerous?’ Well, we stay because Fiction is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word: writing!”
I will be back with more stories, about writing in general, about my writing, about what inspires me to fictionalize the world around me. And about my muse. Yes. About him too. Because I couldn’t have pulled this off without him popping his head up every now, without him there wouldn’t have been a flow at all.
Tagged: #amwriting, Fiction, Fiddler on the Roof, Joseph Stein, muse, stories, Tevye, writing
Valentine’s Day.
I usually shy away from commercial festivities like this, but being all wrapped up in my love for writing and books these past weeks and since it’s International Book Giving Day, I thought I’d make an exception and give you not a book but a little snippet of my protagonist’s view on love.
The girl sits in Cody’s chair and digs her nails into her boyfriend’s arms. It’s her first ink and she squirms and squeals even before Cody touches her with the needle and she almost passes out when he does, hyperventilating through the whole thing, but the look in her eyes is not one of terror but one of love, of devotion. Surrender. She’s doing this for him. She’d do anything for him.
She has Cody tattoo her boyfriend’s name on the back of her neck. It took her forever to decide on a font, a girly font with loops and circles and drooping letters, like the font on a romance novel. But the boyfriend tossed her choice with a flick of his hand and pointed at another one, with harsh hooked letters. She agreed without the slightest hesitation. I love you, baby, he said. And she caved in, because she thinks it’s the god-honest truth. She thinks it is forever. True love. But him not having her name inked on the back of his neck says enough. To me. And to Cody, who shrugged and did nothing more than shoot a glance at me. Sometimes, I think he sees what I see.
I slip out the trailer, circle the car and climb up onto the hood. The landscape is as gray as the overcast sky and it’s hard to see where the desert stops and the sky starts. I cross my legs and flip one of Cody’s plectrums between my fingers and wait until he’s done with her. Then watch the lovebirds walk to the car. The girl leans heavy on her boyfriend’s arm now as if she’s not able to find her way anymore without him. As if Cody not just signed over ownership of her body but also of her mind.
Me and Valentine’s Day? I like strawberries.
Tagged: #amwriting, Love, Protagonist, strawberries, Valentine's Day
At the Winter Conference of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators in New York. Not much writing. Enough ideas, though. Always great to listen to other writers and illustrators, to publishing professionals like editors and agents.
Today we had a full day of intensives for published authors.
Here’s a few quotes from amazing speakers:
Literary agent Rubin Pfeffer of Rubin Pfeffer Content on agents: Should I stay or should I go? Remember your objectives!
Publisher and author Arthur A. Levine on writing: Continue to be moved by what you write.
Author Martha Brockenbrough on social media tip for writers: share insights into your creative process.
Author Jane Yolen (of 360 books!) addressing mid-list authors: Write the damn book!
Editor in Chief of Merit Press and author Jacquelyn Mitchard: If you wanted to be careful, you should have gotten a job as a dental hygienist, not a writer.
Highlight of the day? Meeting again with the amazing Thomas Dunne’ editor Kat Brzozowski, who got her very own alphabet sign!
Biggest disappointment of the day? @2superfredd wasn’t wearing his kilt! Because, damn Fred, you have really good legs.
Today’s writing was about morphing two apparently disparate ideas into one. The morphing process had me push the envelop big time and somehow in this process this elusive muse of mine planted two words in my brain that seemed completely unrelated to my project (night sky and farmland). It sparked a train of thought that had me arrive in the end at ‘skywalk’ and ‘pig’ (or maybe I just sigkilled the process there because I felt this could lead to bad things only).
And it did. I googled skywalk and pigs and whaddayaknow, an oldie popped up: Pigs in Space.
Did I manage to morph my two ideas into one?
Nope. I quit writing for the day and diddled around on the Internet. Thanks muse! That was really helpful.
My favorite line from the episode below? ‘Look Skywalker, go along with this or I cut you in half.’ I think my muse’d better shape up and stop messing around with me. Or I’ll cut him in half.
Tagged: #amprocrastinating, #amwriting, morphing, Muppets, Pigs in Space, Star Wars
Walking down the marina in San Diego my eye caught the name of a boat. The muse. I found my muse! Granted, he manifested a tad different than I had imagined but I took his/her/its picture, just to be sure.
Then hopped on a plane to my next destination, New York, where I will attend the Winter Conference of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators.
To pass time on the flight I decided not to write but to read. A friend had recommended I read Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace, a book that I had missed when it first came out – at that time my mind wasn’t into anything jesty with a two-year-old who had a tendency to stop breathing, causing a reading attention span of about two words.
Anyway, I read on the plane. But reading invariably leads to writing with me. A switch that happens when a word I read hooks in my brain and starts spinning scenes.
How that works?
I read a line in Infinite Jest about two tunnels radiating from a certain point. The word ‘radiate’ hooked in my brain and started spinning: radiate -> rays -> sun -> explosion -> explode and WHAM! a scene unfolds where one of my characters explodes because someone fucks with his mind (it might be that the mind-fuck idea sparked from the word ‘tunnel’ which kind of leads to a vision of someone crawling under your skin and into your brain).
This word-hooks-in-brain thing happened a gazillion times during the flight. So, the reading is slow but I have some quality scenes to write today. I’m pretty sure my muse isn’t that boat in the marina but somehow traveled with me to New York.
Tagged: #amwriting, David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest, muse, New York, San Diego, SCBWI, writing process
a downward current pulls her under
sinks her like a grain of salt
water bars the sun from warming
refracted rays distort and turn
her vision blue
liquid pressure bursts her eardrums
clogs every pore with brine
her heart gives out
as oxygen is crushed from the alveoli
and anoxia destroys her brain
if only she would shift her weight
in time
reach up her arms
her course would change
but no one told her or she never heard
my sunshine
how painless it can be to rise again
break through the surface
fill her lungs with air
and reclaim life
Tagged: #amwriting, course, refraction, sun, Sunshine, Victor IV, vision, water
Mina Witteman 