Category Archives: writing life

All Work and No Play Makes a Dull Writer


by Guest Blogger Karin Gillepsie

Have you ever read the work of a young, uncorrupted writer? It’s like venturing into a jungle: Fresh. Green. Wild. Monkeys beating their furry chests. Parrots shrieking. Anacondas curling around trees. A chaos of creativity.

Such a writer is ruled almost entirely by her subconscious. The subconscious—let’s call her Crazy Daisy—doesn’t know the difference between a gerund and a dangling participle; she only cares about expressing herself. Writing is play, not work.

Unfortunately, Crazy Daisy, charming as she is, has a problem: her work meanders like a toddler strewing petals at a wedding; she needs to be reigned in.
Enter Ms. Grind.

Ms. Grind Cares About the Rules

She’ll tell Crazy Daisy that a sentence can’t run on for three pages or that exclamation points shouldn’t be showered over a page like pepper. She’s so bossy and judgmental she frightens away Crazy Daisy. Ms. Grind doesn’t care; she doesn’t needs that wild little girl hanging around anyway. Yet when she tries to have fun with her prose, it’s scary, like having Dick Cheney ask you to pull his finger. Most of her writing comes out freeze-dried and soulless.

Fact is, all writers are slightly schizophrenic, their minds divided between Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind. We usually start out dominated by Crazy Daisy but once we immerse ourselves into the sea of endless writing rules, Ms. Grind tends to take over.

Can Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind live harmoniously in a writer’s head? In other words, is it possible to create prose that’s technically proficient but also has passion, wonder, and playfulness? Yes, but only if you allow Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind to play to their strengths.

New Ideas Usually Come from Crazy Daisy

You’re taking a walk or daydreaming and suddenly . . . BAM! You get a great idea. Crazy Daisy, impetuous minx, wants to start writing immediately. It’s like she has a case of diarrhea. You’ll be tempted to run with her. Don’t do it. Stop and take a moment to diaper the little imp.

Believe it or not, it’s time to bring Ms. Grind into the equation—not to shoot down the idea—but to structure it. Ms. Grinds loves outlines and plans and she’s good at them. After a little structure work, she might find that the idea isn’t workable after all. Sadly, not all of Crazy Daisy’s ideas are golden. She likes to take risks—and some don’t pay off.

In fact, it’s wise to begin every writing session with Ms. Grind and structure your thoughts when you sit down to write, whether to compose a short scene or a brief essay. You’ll satisfy Ms. Grind and give Crazy Daisy some perimeters. T.S. Elliot summarized this process:

When forced to work within a strict framework, the imagination is taxed to its upmost and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom, the work is likely to sprawl.

Keep Ms. Grind Out of Your First Drafts

Once structure’s in place, it’s time to let Crazy Daisy loose. Allow her to scribble on walls, turn somersaults or eat paste. Sometimes she might break down structural walls—but that’s okay too. Ms. Grind, however, isn’t allowed in. Why? Because she’ll keep up a steady stream of inner dialogue that sounds something like this:

That sentence was abysmal. It must be fixed immediately. Can’t you do anything right? Who do you think you are, passing yourself as a writer?

Occasionally Crazy Daisy interjects, bringing flashes of brilliance, but mostly it’s Ms. Grind who stands over the writer, wielding her ruler.

Not surprisingly, Ms. Grind doesn’t give up her authority easily. How can you keep her out of your head when you’re drafting?

Learn How to Break the Judgment Habit

Most people aren’t aware of the stream of criticism flowing in their minds while they’re writing. Thinking is so fast and transitory, it can be hard to catch Ms. Grind’s endless digs. That why it’s helpful to develop a habit of sitting quietly and meditating for fifteen minutes each day. Ms. Grind will no doubt object, saying, “What a ridiculous idea. Do you realize we’re wasting valuable writing time sitting around doing nothing?”

She’s no dummy. Ms. Grind knows that meditation is the best way to access all of Crazy Daisy’s wild brilliance. Meditation helps you to recognize Ms. Grind’s judgmental thoughts, and to ignore them when you’re drafting a piece.

When Crazy Daisy takes over the draft, watch out, because diamonds and gold nuggets will start shooting out of your computer. BEWARE. Don’t pat yourself on the back because that, too, is a judgment, and any time you make a judgment, you’re issuing an invitation to Ms. Grind. The time for judgment, positive or negative, is in the re-write. Not now.

Writing will suddenly be fun again and as effortless as letting out a whoop of joy. You’ll find yourself falling in love all over again.

One caveat: Crazy Daisy is very messy.

When you go back to revise, you might be horrified at the results. Yes, the writing was intoxicating but the hangover’s a killer. Ms. Grind will say, “I told you so.” Don’t listen to her. Simply ask her to help you clean it up. She’ll balk at first, saying, “If you left things to me there wouldn’t so much clutter.”

True, but neither would there be so much fresh, wild writing. Give it a try and see. It can be a little disorienting. You might not even recognize your own prose. By the way, there’s an easy way to tell which personality dominates your writing. If you love the drafting phase and hate structure and rewriting, Crazy Daisy probably dominates your writing. If you like outlines, loathe the drafting phase and love to polish your prose, you need a T-shirt that says “Team Ms. Grind.”

*If you resisted reading this article, thank Ms.Grind. She’s not interested in articles about making writing fun. It threatens her authority. She much prefers list articles like “Ten Ways To Punch Up Your Dialogue.” They’re useful; this article is a waste of time. Crazy Daisy, indeed.

Karin Gillespie is the author of five novels. Her publisher’s website is http://authors.simonandschuster.com/Karin-Gillespie/20149647.

My First Semester in an MFA Writing Program

by Rhonda Browning White

I had no idea what to expect when I arrived on the idyllic campus of Converse College for my first semester in their MFA in Creative Writing Program. I was nervous about meeting my dorm-mate (Me? Staying in a dorm? With a total stranger? At my age?), who turned out to be a spectacular poet, mother and now my sweet friend. I wondered if I’d be accepted among a group of sixty students, forty-five of whom already had a history together, or if the professors and visiting authors would look down from their lofty positions as they berate my writing. After all, these people were real writers—authors whose names I recognized, whose novels and poetry collections sit on my bookshelves even now.

I needn’t have worried.


These same instructors and brilliant students are now my friends: we touch base via email, follow each other’s daily lives on Facebook, share links to interesting blog links and sometimes chat on the phone about everything from a class assignment to a great novel we’ve read to a recipe you’ve just got to try!


But what is a low-residency program, and what do you do in it, I’m often asked. Well I can’t speak for all of them, but I can tell you about mine. Here’s a typical day in the life of a Converse low-res student:


Breakfast in the dining hall (surprisingly yummy food), begins at seven and lasts until nine, and you are welcome at a table with your cohorts, or you might want to sit with a professor or a visiting author to chat about, oh, anything.


Before the first session of the day begins following breakfast, students can attend one-on-one meetings with their faculty mentor to discuss the semester syllabus, to brainstorm about a current project, or to chat about suggestions for their reading list. On some days, student group meetings are held in this time frame, as well. If students don’t have a scheduled meeting, they’ll often use this for a leisurely chat over coffee, free writing time, strolling the campus grounds (beautiful gardens, impressive statuary and quiet nooks for settling in with a good book).


The day’s first craft lecture follows. Doesn’t this sound boring? I mean, come on, a craft lecture? Let me tell you, these things are amazing! This semester, Dan Wakefield taught us using his late friend Kurt Vonnegut’s fiction, authors Leslie Pietrzyk (my mentor this semester—Yay!) and Marlin Barton gave inspiring lectures on story beginnings and using violence in fiction, and national bestselling author Robert Olmstead lectured on how characters’ thoughts can change the whole direction of a story. Powerful stuff, and these were only a few of the fiction lectures! “But wait,” you say, “do you mean you studied things other than fiction in a fiction program?” Absolutely! One of the reasons I chose Converse is that students are encouraged to attend lectures by professors outside their primary genre. Not only does this present inspiration in directions you might not have considered, but it provides a broader scope should you decide to teach in the future. Hence, I enjoyed seminars by phenomenal poets Denise Duhamel, Suzanne Cleary and Albert Goldbarth. I also benefited from seminars, lectures and readings by guest faculty and speakers, including Brock Clarke and Marshall Jon Fisher and faculty Susan Tekulve and our amazing program director Rick Mulkey.


A leisurely two-hour lunch followed each day’s first seminar, when you’d hear chatter and laughter throughout the dining hall and across the campus as new relationships budded and old friendships grew fonder. Of course, some of this two-hour period was usually spent writing or reading, digesting not only dessert but the instruction and information we’d received in our day’s first lecture.


A walk in the sun across the campus green led us to our afternoon workshop. Workshops are broken into genre—fiction, non-fiction and poetry—and each workshop includes only five to ten students and one or two professors in a roundtable setting. It’s here where the real work occurs, where students watch their skills grow like magic and their writing improve before their eyes. No kidding. I’m still amazed at how much better my writing was on the last day as compared to the first day. Not only were we instructed in methods to improve our work, but we applied those things to our writing and discussed what worked and what didn’t. Workshops were very “hands on,” and over the course of the residency, each student had an hour’s discussion and constructive critique of their own work by the workshop instructors and fellow students. Instructors welcomed our questions and encouraged each student to offer feedback and share their opinions of the selections we read and the writing exercises we completed.


A second stimulating lecture period followed our craft workshop. Some days, these periods consisted of events like a panel discussion of authors or even a sit-down Q & A with Algonquin Publishing’s Executive Editor Chuck Adams. Receiving this kind of insight into the world of publishing is critically advantageous to a developing author’s success and, as students, we were ever aware that we were being provided a “secret map” that will guide us through the tangled jungle of submission and publication.


Dinner (and more laughter) follows this last lecture of the day, then we’re treated to an hour of guest speaker, faculty or student readings. The readings are casual and comfortable, and some of the stories and poems shared take us from hilarity to tears and back again. The night’s readings end with a social hour, which tends to morph into social hours. As our ten-day residency progressed, these social gatherings grew longer as our conversations grew deeper and our friendships became stronger. A few at a time, students and faculty disbursed to grab a snack, study, write, or do a load of laundry. The common areas of the dorm (usually the veranda) always remained a social meeting place, however, even into the wee hours. Get an idea you need to bounce off someone? Head to the veranda. Can’t think of a word you need to complete a rhyme in your sestina? Head to the veranda. Can’t finish your bag of popcorn? Don’t worry, your friends on the veranda will devour it for you. Eventually—sometimes as the sky begins to brighten again—the rocking chairs slow, and the last few upright writers head to their beds and dream of new stories before time to rise and do it all again.


Too soon, our residency ended, but the flame of passion for writing still burns strong as each of us work from home to complete our semester assignments. We study the novels and books on our individualized reading lists. We write critical theory papers about what we’ve read, discerning what works and what doesn’t in those stories, and deciding what we’ve learned that we can apply to our own writing. We also write our own stories or essays or poems—creating packets that we’ll send to our mentor every three or four weeks. We stay in touch with our mentors and our cohorts, and always, we look forward to the next semester, when we’ll be together with our like-minded, creative family at Converse.

A Slice of Writer’s Life

BLAH, BLAH, BLOG!
Writers write. Writers should write something everyday. Yes, seven days a week and something besides checks made out to the electric company. But where do the time, the energy, and the ideas come from? Believe it or not, it’s a self-perpetuating cycle. The more you write, the more you have to write.
In my book Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity, I describe writing to be a muscle. And like the other muscles in our bodies, the writing muscle needs to be exercised and kept in tip-top shape. The writing muscle is kept well toned only by writing. The more we write, the better shape our writing muscle is and the more we have to write. See? Self-perpetuation cycle. What counts for writing exercise?

I keep my own writing muscle in shape by journaling almost everyday of the week, writing several blog posts a week, and writing book reviews for several online sites. And yes, I still have plenty of time, energy, and ideas for my historical romance novel in progress. The key is discipline and not going overboard with what you have to say in any one area. It also helps with learning key fiction elements such as pacing, passive voice, and RUE (Resisting the Urge to Explain.) My writing muscle is warmed-up by the blogs, reviews, and journal entries I write. It’s in those playing fields I am able to watch myself change and progress as a writer. This blog post today is a good example. Let me explain.
Writing blogs, journal entries, and book reviews for several years have taught me to get to the point with what I’m writing in my fiction. The reader wants to know what’s important first, not after a six or seven adverbial phrase describing every bat of the character’s eyes before they utter a word. What the character is doing is integral, but when two people are in the same room and on the same page, they need to be talking to keep the pace of the pages turning for the reader. I have also learned not to repeat what the character says with something we at IFW like to call “narrator intrusion.” Which is what I just did. I just told you something, then intruded on your thought processes by telling you what I just told you. In this fast paced world of ebooks readers want to know and get on with it. Don’t stall them. They will put your book down for good.

BLOGS
What do you say in a blog? My good writing friend Kristen Lamb, author of We Are Not Alone, The Writer’s Guide to Social Media is currently doing a fab series on what, why, and how to blog.
You will not regret subscribing to Kristen’s blog. Take my word for it. Because blogging is not only about getting the word out about you as a writer, it’s most importantly about creating community. Another change in the publishing world. Blog. It’s eventually good for your writing in sooooo many ways.
BOOK REVIEWS
I started writing book reviews because I wanted to read the books my young daughters were reading so we could have a conversation about them and so I could keep connected to their lives. They’ve grown up to be voracious readers and I still review books for kids, teens, and adults. Here’s the latest review for POSER, MY LIFE IN TWENTY-THREE POSES, Claire Dederer:

Writing book reviews keeps my writing muscle toned because it forces me to read and analyze as a reader, writer, and editor. That’s everything I am after mom, cook, laundress, etc. ugh… Anyway, book reviews aren’t exactly easy to write and the format calls for a strictly limited number of words. Again, the practice keeps my fiction writing lean and well paced. Because of reading books and writing reviews, I can almost instantly spot a mistake in my own work because my writing muscle is in tune.
By the way. Look at the top of the book review site and click on the button Review for Us and get started!
JOURNALING
Journaling is something I’ve talked about at length in the archives of this blog and my own site for Writer Wellness.

Visit and subscribe by clicking on the “subscribe” button at the top and get email alerts when I’ve posted a new blog! See? Community!

Meanwhile, remember to look for a digital or print copy of Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity at Who Dares Wins Publishing, http://whodareswinspublishing.com/.

And check out these great blogs for ideas to keep your writing and publishing healthy and prosperous.

http://writeitforward.wordpress.com/ Bob Mayer

http://jenniholbrooktalty.wordpress.com/ Jenni Holbrook

http://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/ Kristen Lamb

http://inspiration4writers.blogspot.com/ Inspiration for Writers, Inc.

Be well, write well.

Joy

Copyright 2011 Joy Held. All rights reserved.

A Slice of Writer’s Life: Stress Less



Stress Less
Joy Held
Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity
Who Dares Wins Publishing
http://www.whodareswinspublishing.com/

“Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.”
Chinese proverb

Writer Wellness workshop participants always have a wide range of suggestions for what it means to relax. Reading, video games, bubble baths, sleeping, and listening to music are popular ideas for down time to many people. One definition of relaxation is “to obtain an equilibrium state.” Relaxation in a pragmatic sense is the ability to align oneself with the chaos of life and to appreciate a new level of acceptance as the result. A conscious process of mindful relaxation should create a sense of security that spills over into all the areas of life.

Essentially, relaxation is gently guiding the mind from several thoughts to just a few, directed thoughts. Relaxation techniques are usually very simple and involve physical stillness, mental focus, and attention to breathing. Meditation is main stream now as the health industry is expressing support of a practice that thousands of individuals throughout history have known relieves physical and mental stress.

“The Relaxation Response” is a phrase and a book based on the work of Harvard physician, Herbert Benson, M.D. The 1975 publication explained how Benson studied the brains and nervous systems of people during a state of meditation and determined that all humans are capable of calling up the relaxation response at will. With a few simple steps, the ability to rest the mind, body, and breath is within easy reach of everyone. Benson’s process lists these requirements:

“From those age-old techniques we have extracted four basic components necessary to bring forth that response,
(1) A quiet environment
(2) A mental device
(3) A passive attitude
(4) A comfortable position”
(The Relaxation Response, pp. 159-160)

1. “A quiet environment”: Find a secure space. If necessary, notify others in the house that you want some privacy and quiet for ten minutes.
2. “A mental device”: As you inhale, repeat to yourself, “Breath in.” As you exhale, repeat to yourself, “Breath out.”
3. “A passive attitude”: When your mental repetition is interrupted by other thoughts, do not follow the new thought but return to repeating the words, “Breath in, breath out.”
4. “A comfortable position”: Sit comfortably in a chair with your spine gently supported in an upright position. Don’t cross your legs. Close your eyes all or half way, whichever is the most comfortable. Identify your breath and pay close attention to its flow into and out of your body. Notice its quality (steady, shallow, or soft). Identify the parts of your body involved in the action of breathing (stomach, chest, ribs, and nostrils).

Start with five minutes a day and slowly build up to 20 minutes once a day.

Relaxation Tips

1. If possible, choose a time when you are alone in the house for better quiet.
2. Loosen tight clothing.
3. If your breath becomes choppy or difficult, stop, open your eyes then start again.
4. Keep a positive attitude.
5. Accept that it will take time to appreciate this simple practice.

Be well, write well.
Joy
copyright 2010

Blog: http://www.writerwellness.wordpress.com/

Avoid Clichés: Get Past the Mundane Use Your Brain!

by Stacy Tritt

Her face fell. Fear gripped her. She was all bent out of shape.

Clichés are everywhere. They infect our writing, and make what we thought was a fantastic, captivating piece of work… well, boring to our readers. So how can we fight the pandemic of clichés? There are several approaches to this battle. First we must know how to identify clichés. Next, we must learn to guard ourselves against them. And last, we can use the basic idea of a cliché against itself in order to eradicate it. Here’s how:

Many of you may be wondering, how can I tell whether something is a cliché? Here are a few questions you can ask yourself to find out:

1. Have you read those words or actions in the same context you are writing them in before? If your answer is yes, then the phrase is either cliché—or you’re plagiarizing. Either way, you want to avoid it.

2. Can the words you’re writing be considered a common figure of speech? For instance, in “her face fell,” did her face really fall, as in trip, tumble, or slide off of her head? Of course not! That would mean something entirely different. It’s a figure of speech, one that the majority of English speakers know, and is therefore considered a writing cliché. A good technique to get rid of clichés from your writing is to go back and read your work aloud so you can better recognize whether or not you have heard a specific phrase before.

So, you’ve found the clichés in what you’ve already written, and you’re ready to move on, but you want to break the habit of naturally writing clichés into your work. But how? Second guess yourself. If the words flow from your fingers like you didn’t even have to think about them, then chances are you didn’t, because you already know the words you’re writing, because they are cliché. Clichés are often the result of writing the way we speak in everyday life. The problem with this is that people don’t want to be told things they already know, they want to read what you have to say because it is exciting, and lets them see the world (whether this one, or a world you created) in a fresh, new way in which they’ve never seen something before. The hard part is giving them that fresh new take on the world.

One great technique to eradicate clichés is to use them—but not as they are. Take the cliché that is giving you problems, and change it to make it surprising and different; something the reader can’t see coming. Something that makes it your own. Here are a few examples:

“Her face fell” could become “His words shoved the smile right off of her cheeks.”

“Fear was gripping her” could become “Fear embraced her like a small child who refused to let go.”

And “She was getting all bent out of shape” could become “Her rage peaked at a new high, forcing all other emotion from her body and bending her once soft demeanor into a callous giant.”

Actions and reactions can also be cliché. Something scary happens when the storm begins, or a fight between lovers ends with a huge, sappy kiss. In those cases, do you really want your reader to know what will happen before they experience it on your page? I don’t think so. What is the point of reading? Throw in a few twists, lead them down one road, then force them to take another. Get past the mundane, and use your brain! As Nathanial Hawthorne once said, “Easy reading is damn hard writing.” You just have to have to keep trying until you get it right.

January 24, 2011

Educate Me, Please!
Applying to Graduate Writing Programs
By
Rhonda Browning White

The first condition of education is being able to put someone to wholesome and meaningful work. –John Ruskin

You’ve reached the point in your writing career where you’ve become quite serious about it. You can think of little else besides reading or writing. You yearn for the day when someone creates showers with built-in, waterproof laptops, because you always seem to have a shampoo-lathered head when the ultimate phrase arrives. Okay, maybe that’s just me. But we’ve recently received enough questions from our clients about low-residency MFA programs and the application process to tell us that many of you have decided to seriously invest time and money into your future as a writer. Congratulations!

While it’s not necessary to hold a post-graduate degree in order to become a successful, full-time writer, immersing yourself into a community of writers for two to three years has great benefits. In addition to showing publishers you are serious about your craft, you’ll network with successful authors, develop a cohort of like-minded writers who will support you through years to come, plus build a firm foundation from which to teach, lead workshops and conferences, promote yourself and your work, and—best of all—write with passion.

Now, how do you journey from the decision to apply to arrive at the acceptance letter? Here’s what I recommend:

  • Begin today. Researching the right program cannot begin too soon. While still a university sophomore, I began compiling lists of post-graduate writing programs, and I kept a notebook with information of what I learned about each. Some schools I could quickly cross off because they required a semester abroad, were exorbitantly priced, or focused more on literary theory than creative writing. Others required classroom participation four days a week, which was out of the question for a working mother like me. Of course, these may be just the factors you’re seeking, so make sure the programs to which you apply fit your need. Cost is often a concern for many, so if you are counting on student loans, scholarships or financial aid, know that you’ll need to complete a Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) form well in advance. In addition to tuition, don’t forget to factor in travel expenses to/from the program, lodging, food and textbooks. I strongly encourage you to research the faculty of each of the programs where you plan to apply, as well. Aim to read (or at least skim) one book or novel written by each of the full-time faculty members in the program. While I’ll quickly admit that I spent over three years doing intermittent research, I learned this month that an incredible source of much of this information has just been published. Lori A. May’s The Low-Residency MFA Handbook asks and answers many of the questions I had about low-res writing programs, both in the US and abroad. This text addresses the program, teaching philosophy, residency, study format and—especially encouraging—life after the MFA. Ms. May has done much of the hard work for you, but you’ll still need to handle the application process on your own.
  • Contact the programs. Chat via email or telephone with a faculty member, program director or advisor, current student, or alumnus of the program. Jot down a list of school-specific questions, concerns about funding, or questions about the residency. The best programs will be happy to talk with you, and many will refer you to alumni or current students for candid conversations with those who have experienced the program first-hand.
  • Acquire transcripts. This may seem like a no-brainer, but be sure to follow up with the programs to which you are applying to ensure your transcripts actually arrived. One of mine didn’t, and I had to re-request that the transcript be sent.
  • Letters of reference should be written by someone who knows you and is familiar with your writing skill—other than your mother. Think of former professors and deans who read your work, but don’t limit reference letters to academia, unless required. Consider also the boss for whom you wrote a fifty-five page technical manual that was published. Be sure to carefully read each program’s application instructions, as some will request that references be mailed and postmarked at the source, while others will want the letters included in the application packet. Most will require that the letter be sealed, with the author’s signature affixed over the sealed flap.
  • The personal essay. Let’s all say it together . . . “Ugh!” Now that you’ve got that out of your system, start writing. Your personal essay should be honest and heartfelt, but not folksy or humorous. Attending an MFA program is one of the most serious decisions you’ll make in your life, so treat it as such in this essay. Describe why you want to be involved in a writing community as intense as an MFA program. What is it that led you to the decision, and what is your motivation to engage in three years of study? How will you make time for the rigorous schedule (typically 20-25 hours a week) of coursework? What obstacles might you encounter, and how do you plan to overcome them? Why does this particular program appeal to you, over all the others available? Are you able to accept critique and apply it to your work? Again, read the application instructions for clues as to what the program director and faculty are looking for in this essay.
  • The writing sample. This is, without a doubt, the most important piece of your application packet. Programs will typically require between ten and twenty-five pages of your best work. Having said that, if your story ends on page eleven or twenty-eight, be sure to send it all—don’t leave them wondering about your ability to end a story. The sample should be appropriate for the program to which you’re applying. Don’t send a children’s story to a literary fiction program, and don’t send a short story to a poetry concentration program. Send your very best work. Let me say that again: Send your very best work. Don’t send anything that you haven’t had someone else proofread for typos. Better still; send something that you’ve shared with your writing critique group. Make sure your manuscript is properly formatted. For stories, use one-inch margins with 12-point font and double-spaced lines. It’s important not to take the writing sample lightly. If you don’t feel you have a current writing sample that’s up to par, begin a new piece, and wait to apply until you’re sure you have a high-quality manuscript to send.
  • Other important information. Most applications will ask you to include a list of prior publications and writing awards (if you have them), of professional writing organization memberships, or of writing workshops, conferences or non-credit writing courses you have taken. Some may also ask for any writing-community involvement, so be certain to mention if you’ve led a writing workshop at your local library, community college, prison or youth camp. In short, if you have a writing accomplishment of any kind, or have worked or volunteered within a writing community, be sure to mention it.
  • Final details. How many copies of the application, essay and writing sample must you include in your packet? Did you sign the check for the application fee? Did you include both your home and cell number on the application form? Did you write a cover letter for your packet (a brief note listing your enclosures and thanking the director for reviewing your application)? Now is not the time to recycle an old manila envelope, and by all means, if you have a coffee cup stain on your title page, reprint the document! It’s not necessary to overnight your application (unless you’re approaching a deadline date), but consider sending it in a sturdy cardboard, U.S. Priority Mail envelope.

Now that you’ve completed and mailed your stellar application packets, we’d love to hear from you! Feel free to post in the comments section below any feedback you receive from writing programs to which you’ve applied. Good luck!





What Makes a Writer?

by Roxanne Tritt Sutton

I’ve always had a hard time labeling myself as a writer. Considered writing one of my strong suits, yes. Done well on most written items in school, yes. Enjoyed expressing myself in similes, metaphors, and my preferred poetic pattern, alliteration, yes. Yet, somehow, stamping writer across my chest is hard for me.

It could be that I’ve always felt intimidated by the same people who made me feel like I could do anything. My mom is an amazing writer who has helped me on all things in the written world (and beyond). She was always there to praise, critique, and, of course, offer lots of suggestions on everything I wrote. In my mind, she’s the “true” writer. The one who can phrase something just right, tweak a few words to make a statement more powerful, and use words to paint an image that Da Vinci would have a hard time replicating. Who was I to call myself a writer?

Recently, I started a marketing/public relations internship for a shipping company. On my resume I listed “article writing” as one of my accomplishments, being that I recently published an article about George Mason University in a local paper. This still did not make me a writer. I was merely someone who had the skill to write articles. Little did I know, the first person I talked to at the career fair was looking for just that skill.

So, I’m almost two months into this internship now and things are going well. I’ve written and created an eNewsletter and am working on writing other things. As I was talking to my boss on the way out of the office yesterday, the second-in-command stopped me. “Wait. You’re the writer, right?”

As I fumbled and bumbled and wrung my hands, I took a deep breath. I looked right into her eyes, steadied myself, and said, “Yes.” I looked over my shoulder because surely the Writer Police would be on their way to arrest this imposter for calling herself a writer. But nothing happened. The second-in-command simply said, “Okay, good. I’ll send some things to you for copyediting.” I told her I’d be happy to do it and made my way out of the office.

It was such a simple exchange, and yet I find myself awake at the crack of dawn on my first day off in months writing. Not writing because it’s the end of the semester, but because something deep inside me is stirring and compelling me to put whispers into thoughts and thoughts into words. I’m writing because I am a writer.

So what makes a writer? A writer is anyone who feels the compulsion to put thoughts and emotions into words. A writer is someone who is attached to the finished product and is afraid (sometimes) to send it into the real world. A writer writes for his or herself and doesn’t worry about what others may think. Like my mom always said, “You can be anything you want to be.” And if you want to be writer, and if you write, then you are a writer.

“A SLICE OF WRITER’S LIFE” by Joy Held

“A Few Classic Books For A Writer’s Bookshelf”

“Writing is a process of self-discipline you must learn before you can call yourself a writer. There are people who write, but I think they’re quite different from people who must write.”
~Harper Lee, author
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD
from a 1964 interview

Writers must read. The mass of titles about writing available year after year make choosing suitable books daunting. The “good ones” never go out of style and the information is timeless, because there are writers who write and writers who MUST WRITE or life is unbearable. Either way, a writer will appreciate the kernels of knowledge found in the following classic books about writing.

BECOMING A WRITER, Dorothea Brande (J.P. Tarcher, Inc.)

Brande taught creative writing in the 1920’s, but her guidance is still very aplicable to the writing life and process. She admits that writing “genius” cannot be taught but because it is a writer’s magic that creates the good writing and not something more cerebral. Granted, the intellect must achieve a level of functional correctness such as grammar and punctuation, but the process of accessing the story is very teachable to anyone. Brande encourages reading “all the technical books on the writing of fiction that you can find,” as well as tapping into honesty for the true source of a writer’s originality. This book is considered a classic among writing texts and is available in reprinted versions regularly. I like that Brande recommends meditation as part of a writer’s process but she calls it “Artistic Coma.”

IF YOU WANT TO WRITE, A Book About Art, Independence and Spirit, Brenda Ueland
(Graywolf Press)

Ueland refers to genius in her book as well, but, as the title infers, she challenges the foundations of people who think they want to write. Her goal is for the reader to understand conceptually that writing is art and real art, quoting Leo Tolstoi, “…is infection.” It is something a writer notices about themselves and simply must infect others with and so he writes! I love the symbolism of art/writing as an infection and the only cure is to write the art down and share it with others. That is a great metaphor for the compulsion necessary to continue writing. Granted, some writing days are better than others, but the persistence never burns out for some writers, and Ueland provides a handy book of reinforcements or “medicine” for those infected by the writing bug. The best part is that Ueland believes that EVERYONE is a valuable writer on some level. Good book, also readily available as a classic reprint.

BIRD BY BIRD, Some Instructions on Writing and Life, Anne Lamott
(Anchor Books)

If you are a 21st century writer and haven’t read this wonderful book, you are missing an important piece of the writer’s tool kit: acceptance. “The only constant is change” says the Greek proverb and that is sometimes harder to cope with than others. Lamott has come through the fires as a person and a writer and even though this too is an older book, its messages are timeless. Once you read this one, you will understand that writing is a process that requires certain steps performed in a particular order over and over and one at a time. Still in print and should never go out in my opinion.

Right now I’m reading THE PSYCHOLOGY OF ROMANTIC LOVE, ROMANTIC LOVE IN AN ANTI-ROMANTIC AGE, by Nathaniel Branden, Tarcher/Penguin.

Check out my recent book reviews online:
THE DAUGHTERS, Joanna Philbin

http://www.teenreads.com/reviews/9780316049009.asp

FAIRIES AND THE QUEST FOR NEVERLAND, Gail Carson Levine

http://www.kidsreads.com/reviews/9781423109358.asp

Be well, write well,
Joy

Copyright Joy Held 2010

HOW TO SELECT THE PERFECT EDITOR

By
Rhonda Browning White

As professional editors, we hear it all the time.

“I paid Editor X four hundred dollars, (or a thousand dollars, or fifty bucks) to edit my manuscript, and I’m still getting rejections. The agents are telling me it still needs a lot of work. Have I been scammed?”

It breaks our hearts, but we have to answer, “Yes. You have.”


A professional edit of your work is an investment. It’s an investment in your manuscript, in your reputation as a writer of excellence, and in your career as a published (or soon-to-be-published) author. Hence, you want to select the best editor possible for your work. But in a world of scam artists, or even well-meaning acquaintances who offer to edit your work for a few bucks, how do you decide which editor to trust with your manuscript?

In this two-part essay series, I’ll address some of the questions you should ask of potential editors and the answers to seek before you hand over your manuscript (and your money).

  • Determine what kind of editing your manuscript (book, novel, novella, short story, chapbook, etc.) needs. Do you need simple proofreading by a qualified professional? Do you need a full edit with feedback on active voice, characterization, plotting, pacing, and other important story elements? Do you need more in-depth assistance, such as a complete re-write to restructure or round-out your story, or to act out (show) the scenes that are written in a telling fashion? Do you have a basic outline and completed research, but you need a professional writer to ghostwrite your story? In addition to the edit, do you want post-edit assistance, such as help preparing a proposal, query letter or synopsis? Or do you simply need a professional read-through analysis where a qualified editor will study your manuscript and make overall suggestions or offer direction for improvements you can make on your own? Once you know what you need, you can search with confidence for the right candidate for the job.
  • Research the editor or editing firm thoroughly on the Internet. Search both company name and the individual editor’s name. Check to see what is said about them outside of their own website, and see how active they are in the writing community. Are they listed as workshop presenters or speakers at writing conferences? Are they mentioned on author websites with a note of thanks for what they’ve done? Look for an editing company that provides excellent references and testimonials from clients.

  • Check to make sure the editing company has two or more editors. If one has a family emergency, you’ll want a back-up contingency plan to ensure your work is finished before the deadline you were given. Another benefit of a company with multiple editors is that, while one editor may thrive on editing doctorate dissertations, another may detest them, yet love to edit romances or horror stories. Choose a company with multi-talented editors, so you can ensure you’ll have a long-term relationship with the group, no matter which direction your muse may lead you.

  • Ask for a free sample edit. Reputable editors will be happy to ediT a few pages (250-500 words) of your novel or book. Of course, if you’ve written a two-page short story or brief article, don’t expect a free sample—that’s unfair to the editor. It’s important to see if the editor can supply the exact assistance you need and if you two are compatible as a team. Your relationship with your editor is a marriage, of sorts, so make sure honesty and communication are part of the equation. Can you email your editor and expect a response within one business day? (If your free sample edit is returned within one business day, you can expect the same prompt response to your questions and concerns). Will you editor agree to conference call (telephone) meetings? Will there be an additional fee for such phone conferences? Were you provided a phone number at which to contact your editor, free of charge, with questions regarding your edit?
  • Expect to pay fair wages for professional work. There’s an old adage that says, “If you pay with peanuts, you’ll end up working with monkeys.” The so-called editor who offers to edit your manuscript in exchange for nail salon services, babysitting, or auto repair is not a professional. Professional editors are highly skilled, college-educated, published experts who accept only real money for real work. Editors pay taxes on their wages (no “under the table” business), they carry business insurance, and they will provide you with a legal contract prepared by an attorney who is familiar with the publishing industry.
  • Settle on an exact fee—in writing. Be certain how much the professional editing service you request will cost. What is the exact fee for the service provided? Will you be billed by-the-hour (typically only for ghostwriting or writing that requires research, which can’t always be quantified by a word-count); or will you be charged a per-word fee? Expect to pay less for small services, such as professional proofreading or for a read-through analysis, and more for ghost-editing (a service that’s more detailed than a full edit, but less involved than ghostwriting). Typical full-edit fees range from three cents per word to ten cents per word, depending on the company and the editor. Ghostwriting fees may range from thirty cents to fifty cents per word. Proofreading fees may range from one to three cents per word. In addition to the basics, make sure you seek value-added services, such as frequent communication, a multi-page written analysis of the work completed on your manuscript, or perhaps even your name listed on the editor’s web site as a free marketing tool for your published book.
  • Ask about payment options. Does the editor or editing company accept credit cards, or are they strictly cash-and-carry? (Many credit cards offer free cardholder protection services). Will the editor accept your work piecemeal (a chapter at a time as you can afford to pay)? Do they offer gift certificates? Will they accept international payments? Professional editing companies will offer a variety of options to make doing business with them convenient and affordable.
  • Ask for an editing contract. Make sure specifics are spelled out for you, particularly, two things: First, that the writer retains all rights to his manuscript, including suggestions made by the editor pertaining to his manuscript. Second, the editor will keep confidential all information about the writer and the submitted manuscript. The contract should also spell out exactly how much the edit will cost, what it will include (one edit, multiple edits, rewrites, follow-up services, phone conferences, and an estimated date of completion).

Check back this fall for more tips on selecting the right editor for your manuscript. Remember, you and your editor are a team! Choose one who will be with you through many manuscripts to come!

A Slice of Writer’s Life

“Where does a writer’s ‘voice’ come from?”

Flaws. Imperfections. Blemishes. This is the stuff that makes us individuals, that makes us lovable, and that gives writers their unique perspective on the world. A writer’s vantage point is precisely where her voice emanates. What makes a writer is someone who recognizes their voice and their particular turn of mind come from the same immeasurable place. Every writer has a voice. Some voices are more toned than others.

A writer’s voice is a compilation of language, personal history, opinions, and truth as the writer sees it. Everybody has a literary voice but hearing it and being brave enough to write it down for others to see is something else. A writer’s voice is the truest expression of what we believe or want to believe is fundamental to the existence of our species.

Voice is what grabs an editor or a reader and makes them follow along until the story is done. Voice is what draws a reader so deep into a piece that they begin to identify with the events and attach their own experiences to the writing.

If everyone has a voice, why is it one of the most difficult and esoteric fragments of the writing process? What do you do if an editor says, “You need to develop your voice more,” or “Your voice didn’t grab me enough to make me interested?”

Writing is like a muscle. It has to be flexed, exercised, and nourished every day. Not just the five thirty-minute exercise sessions a week called for by the surgeon general for your sexy abs, but the writing muscle needs to be put through some kind of paces seven days a week. The easiest way to accomplish this is by keeping a journal. It does not require a specific routine or set of exercises. In fact, the more gibberish you write the more clear things will become as you work daily in your journal to develop the unique way you want to write. But you must write something every day.

Journal writing is the place to practice and get things right or wrong or dumb or straight or crooked or just listed. The writer’s journal is a no-boundaries play ground where you can experiment, lie, twist, copy, sort, and get right your special way of turning a sentence or laying words down in a certain order that are the tell-tale signs of your unique writer’s voice. The more practice you make in your journal, the more your “real writing” begins to show signs of a voice that is distinctly yours. No one has to know that you practiced day after day, year after year in a journal to finally identify your true voice. In fact, when (not if,) but when you go back and reread your journal burn the parts you don’t want shared if they bother you. But respect that your journal is the proving ground for what works and what makes your voice special. Type, write by hand, paint, use stickers, whatever it takes to open yourself to the real you and how you want to be heard. This journal practice will gently slide into your writing and someday an editor will send you a letter that says, “I love your voice.”

What I’m Reading Right Now: “When Knowing Becomes Love, Meditation As Contemplative Inquiry” by Arthur Zajonc.

What Are You Reading?

Be well, write well,
Joy Held
Copyright 2010