I just finished another book. By “finish” I mean it’s done as far as content goes…I still have tweaks and editing to do. But the story is done; only polishing remains. I feel proud and happy that I’ve completed another novel. But there is such a bittersweet sensation to coming to the end of a tale. You'd think I'd be jumping around for joy...I'm done with pushing through the conflict and the sheer tedium of wrapping up loose ends.
But things bubble up. I’m not sure if all authors do this, but at the completion of every book I worry. Was that my last one? Will I be able to come up with another plot/story/characters? Will it be good? I have all of these trepidations, even though I have ideas running around in my head all the time. I’ve never had a problem sitting down and beginning a new book. But I still fret. The time between ending a book and beginning a new one is unsettling.
The other sad feeling is the loss of the characters. I do write sequels and trilogies, but there are always some characters that never more will see the ink from my pen; their story is done. And even with people I use again, a part of their life is over. I can never revisit it again.
Much like life.
One of my favorite books is The Neverending Story by Michael Ende. It is a wonderful fantasy for many reasons; I love the descriptive passages, the unique duel setting, the characters, and the story. But what I think I love most about this book is the idea that the story truly is never ending; when Bastian closes the book the tale does not end.
That helps. I can imagine my own characters are living out their lives even though I’m not writing about them. I can visit them in my imagination even though they may never make it into another story. And, their moment of struggle and triumph are preserved forever to experience over and over again anytime I wish to.
A reminder of that came to me Friday. I received a copy of an anthology (A Time To , The Best of Lorelei Signal 2008). One of my stories, Sisters, had been chosen to be included. I sat down and read it again. It had been a long time. I found myself experiencing the characters as if I'd first written it.
Sigh. Back to editing.
But soon the beginning of a new book and a whole new cast of characters to meet. I can’t wait to discover who they are…
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Got Fun?
Writers can be deadly serious bunch: write, edit, market, get it back, edit, market…it can be overwhelming and hard to hear, in spirit if not actual words, don’t quit your day job over and over. This does not make for the most fun loving of professions.
Also, I’m not a funny person. I can write humorous dialogue, I compose chuckle-worthy verse, I laugh a lot, but I'm not funny. Although…others have said I DO funny things. My husband, for one. Let’s just say I occasionally run into walls. My sister agrees, mostly within the realm of what she fondly has dubbed as “Kelly’s Funny Mistakes,” or that my typos are “gold standard.” Ha. Have I said editing is not my strong suit? Quinn says mine are the best she’s ever seen. “Best” being the worst, of course, and the worst of anything is often funny.
So here is what I did. Quinn is going to be dancing a routine in an upcoming recital at our dance studio. (Note: this will be a blog post. Tune in Oct the 4th to my dance blog). Anyway, she wanted my opinion on her costume. What I said back was I will give you my hornet’s opinion. After she got done laughing and nazing her drink, she had visions of me buzzing around her saying “I don’t like your costume and now I’m going to STING you,” as I hum (naturally) The Flight of the Bumblebee . So here is what I wrote back:
Please do not mention the hornet thing to anyone. Only Gary, and now you, know. (There was a long talk early on in our dating life...he was surprised, but in the end (so to speak) accepting.) You might wonder how I manage. I sort of bend the stinger down when I put on my underwear. It hurts, but what else can I do? I’ve only lost control a couple of times, but let me say that those people deserved it. I hope you don't mind having a freak as a sister.
Then she sent me a picture of hornet. Then I sent her a weird little drawing:
And I wrote this:
There once was a girl with a wiggle
Who knew how to sway, swish and jiggle
She wore heavy denim
To hide all the venom
When stinging she often would giggle.
It’s fun. And what started out as a mistake turned into a crazy creative experience. Everyone could use this, I think, but especially writers. Every now and then we need to be jarred out of our seriousness. Writing is a hard business. But we need to have fun to be productive, even if the hilarity as at your own expense. Because really, aren’t we all funny in some way?
Think about it.
Buzzing off for now.
Also, I’m not a funny person. I can write humorous dialogue, I compose chuckle-worthy verse, I laugh a lot, but I'm not funny. Although…others have said I DO funny things. My husband, for one. Let’s just say I occasionally run into walls. My sister agrees, mostly within the realm of what she fondly has dubbed as “Kelly’s Funny Mistakes,” or that my typos are “gold standard.” Ha. Have I said editing is not my strong suit? Quinn says mine are the best she’s ever seen. “Best” being the worst, of course, and the worst of anything is often funny.
So here is what I did. Quinn is going to be dancing a routine in an upcoming recital at our dance studio. (Note: this will be a blog post. Tune in Oct the 4th to my dance blog). Anyway, she wanted my opinion on her costume. What I said back was I will give you my hornet’s opinion. After she got done laughing and nazing her drink, she had visions of me buzzing around her saying “I don’t like your costume and now I’m going to STING you,” as I hum (naturally) The Flight of the Bumblebee . So here is what I wrote back:
Please do not mention the hornet thing to anyone. Only Gary, and now you, know. (There was a long talk early on in our dating life...he was surprised, but in the end (so to speak) accepting.) You might wonder how I manage. I sort of bend the stinger down when I put on my underwear. It hurts, but what else can I do? I’ve only lost control a couple of times, but let me say that those people deserved it. I hope you don't mind having a freak as a sister.
Then she sent me a picture of hornet. Then I sent her a weird little drawing:
And I wrote this:
There once was a girl with a wiggle
Who knew how to sway, swish and jiggle
She wore heavy denim
To hide all the venom
When stinging she often would giggle.
It’s fun. And what started out as a mistake turned into a crazy creative experience. Everyone could use this, I think, but especially writers. Every now and then we need to be jarred out of our seriousness. Writing is a hard business. But we need to have fun to be productive, even if the hilarity as at your own expense. Because really, aren’t we all funny in some way?
Think about it.
Buzzing off for now.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Loose Ends
I’ve mentioned before that editing is my least favorite part of writing; I love thinking about my stories in an abstract way, I love mulling over characters, plot points, and settings. You might think that completing a book would be the best part…everything coming together in one final glorious swipe of the electronic pen.
But that isn’t so, at least, for me it isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, finishing a book feels fabulous. It’s the getting there I don’t like so much. Which is interesting, because I’m a completion kind of gal; checking things off my list is a satisfying behavior. So why the reticence?
As a writer, it’s very important for me to finish up loose ends. The weaving in of errant plot threads is the final elegant touch that makes my work complete. A famous playwright once said if you show a gun in act one you’d better use it by act three. I agree in spirit, although my rule tends to be more like if you mention something three or more times you’d better do something with it, or at least work it into the final resolution of the story.
I remember a book that I enjoyed many years ago. At the end, the woman decided to leave the modern world and stay in the past with the man she loved. OK, cool, but there is something from the story that haunts me to this day. The protagonist had a cat. The kitty wasn’t a huge plot point, but the author mentioned the cat was the woman’s only companion, and greeted her every time she returned to her apartment. In the final scene the woman jumped into the ancient world and left everything behind. So…what happened to the cat??? I had visions of the poor creature meowing for its owner and slowly starving to death in a now empty tomb. Melodramatic? Probably. But I still feel sad about that cat. As a writer I know it would have only taken a few lines to fix this…she found a home for the cat, or even better, she took her best friend with her.
I think about that kitty when I finish a book. I’m very careful about dealing with things at the end. I don’t leave plot points hanging. If I reveal a gun I use it. And that’s hard work. But cleaning up is not the only reason I dread ending a book.
In any good tale there must be conflict. A story about someone’s daily life, no matter how interesting the character or setting, is no fun to read. Conflict...even external conflict... invites turmoil within one’s self, and upon resolution of personal strife, there is change. And change always involves loosing something to gain something. The protagonist may very much want to change, but there is a price to pay.
And writing about pain is difficult for me. By the end of the book, I have come to love my people. I don’t want them to hurt! But in order for the story to ring true, this honesty must be represented. It wouldn’t be fair to my characters otherwise, and it would cheat my readers.
Readers read for many reasons…to experience something alien, something beautiful, something profound. I also think they read to feel a connection to the human soul. And so when a character struggles, has to make a choice and deals with the aftermath, we acknowledge the “realness” of that. Perhaps deep down we know that we too can survive even if we don’t always succeed.
And although I don’t like to write about suffering or the price to be paid for a “happy” ending, authors need to express that universal truth too. So if you’ll excuse me, I have an ending to complete.
But a quick cup of coffee first won’t hurt. Sigh.
But that isn’t so, at least, for me it isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, finishing a book feels fabulous. It’s the getting there I don’t like so much. Which is interesting, because I’m a completion kind of gal; checking things off my list is a satisfying behavior. So why the reticence?
As a writer, it’s very important for me to finish up loose ends. The weaving in of errant plot threads is the final elegant touch that makes my work complete. A famous playwright once said if you show a gun in act one you’d better use it by act three. I agree in spirit, although my rule tends to be more like if you mention something three or more times you’d better do something with it, or at least work it into the final resolution of the story.
I remember a book that I enjoyed many years ago. At the end, the woman decided to leave the modern world and stay in the past with the man she loved. OK, cool, but there is something from the story that haunts me to this day. The protagonist had a cat. The kitty wasn’t a huge plot point, but the author mentioned the cat was the woman’s only companion, and greeted her every time she returned to her apartment. In the final scene the woman jumped into the ancient world and left everything behind. So…what happened to the cat??? I had visions of the poor creature meowing for its owner and slowly starving to death in a now empty tomb. Melodramatic? Probably. But I still feel sad about that cat. As a writer I know it would have only taken a few lines to fix this…she found a home for the cat, or even better, she took her best friend with her.
I think about that kitty when I finish a book. I’m very careful about dealing with things at the end. I don’t leave plot points hanging. If I reveal a gun I use it. And that’s hard work. But cleaning up is not the only reason I dread ending a book.
In any good tale there must be conflict. A story about someone’s daily life, no matter how interesting the character or setting, is no fun to read. Conflict...even external conflict... invites turmoil within one’s self, and upon resolution of personal strife, there is change. And change always involves loosing something to gain something. The protagonist may very much want to change, but there is a price to pay.
And writing about pain is difficult for me. By the end of the book, I have come to love my people. I don’t want them to hurt! But in order for the story to ring true, this honesty must be represented. It wouldn’t be fair to my characters otherwise, and it would cheat my readers.
Readers read for many reasons…to experience something alien, something beautiful, something profound. I also think they read to feel a connection to the human soul. And so when a character struggles, has to make a choice and deals with the aftermath, we acknowledge the “realness” of that. Perhaps deep down we know that we too can survive even if we don’t always succeed.
And although I don’t like to write about suffering or the price to be paid for a “happy” ending, authors need to express that universal truth too. So if you’ll excuse me, I have an ending to complete.
But a quick cup of coffee first won’t hurt. Sigh.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Kelly's Nest Photo
I had a request for a picture of my writer’s nest, so here it is. I could say every morning I put on a skirt, nice top, and jewelry, but that would be a lie…I’m about ready to go dancing in this shot. My normal author attire is yoga pants, tee shirt, and glasses. But I’m NOT going to put that on the web. :-)
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