Looking Back at 2008 - The Year of Writing

A self indulgent look back...

January - I had a car accident (his fault, not mine!). My first YA novel began to take shape. My faithful friends and fellow Wire groupies gathered to watch at my house as the best television series ever wound to a fabulous finish. "There Will Be Blood" shook me up, and I took a friend to Disneyland. I began another year of gaming with a group of like minded geeks. Yes, I game. So sue me for having an imagination.

February - my novel's plot got clearer. I planned my trip to Europe with my friend Wendy. Our pick - Prague and Budapest in October. The flu laid me low, and I finally got the car fixed. I passed the time with a couple of very nice gentlemen.

March - more writing! Took a screenwriting class from my fabulous friend Pilar, applying the ideas generated there to my novel. I really got under the skin of my main character. My critique group gave great feedback. I underwent extensive dental hell, but it all ended up costing less than I thought. Phew! The schmoozing reached unprecedented levels at various writing and media-folks gatherings.

April brought the beginning of my 12-week YA novel writing class. I refined my plot drastically, rewrote chapter one three times, and finally started to feel good about it. I endured a root canal and rewarded myself with wine tastings, good company, and watching friends perform in front of appreciative audiences.

For May, my calendar has "WRITE!" written in nearly every day of the month. And I did. I churned out pages and got great feedback from my class, which gave me incentive to keep going. May 8, I scribbled: "rewriting like a maniac" in my worst handwriting. Along the way I had a few rum drinks at the Tonga Hut.

June brought the final chapters of my novel, which I managed to churn out in spite of five fabulous days spent in Hawaii not writing. I reconnected with some of my closest friends and acted like I was 16 all over again.

In July I finished my writing class and the first draft of my novel. Hurray! I fell for "The Dark Knight," and attended the SCBWI (Society of Childrens Book Writers and Illustrators) conference in Los Angeles, where there was much schmoozing, attending of lectures, and writing.

In August I stepped back from my manuscript for a few weeks, supposedly to give myself perspective. But mostly I was lazy and hated my writing and figured I was doomed. My lovely mother came to visit and the latest dentist appointment revealed that I now have fabulously healthy teeth. I spoke on a panel at work about working as a creative exec assistant in Hollywood.

September brought me back to my book, and I rewrote and tightened and honed and felt the love again. I put together a website with help from a fabulous friend. Okay - so I have nothing to sell yet, but what the hey! My friend Diane visited and completed a triathlon - yay! I played poker at work, and started sending out queries. My bathroom flooded, and I hit a few Tiki bars because life is short.

From here on, I can't really discuss the query/agenting process, but let's just say so far so good. In October I ventured to Prague and Budapest with Wendy at marveled at how those countries are recovering from Communism. The men in Prague? Gorgeous! A Polish man told me that Hungarians are more passionate. Duly noted. I made notes in case I need to use those locations in a novel.

In November I rewrote a spec TV pilot I'd begun last year, and it actually got a lot better. Hey! Maybe I am learning something along the way. There was much feasting on turkey with loved ones, holding of newborn babies, and listening to live music.

December - I finished the rewrite on the TV pilot, and the beginnings of a new novel begin to appear in my brain. I start to jot stuff down - and signed up for another class, to begin in January.

So yes, I wrote more in 2008 than I ever have before, and I had my share of heartbreak, frustration and fun along the way. And I plan to write even more in 2009. The more I write, the more likely it is that something concrete will come of it, right?

I hope your 2008 was even more productive, satisfying, and delightful. Here's to a creative, adventurous, fearless 2009!

The Racoons - All Grown Up!

The little bandits aren't so little anymore!

Back in May I posted photos of five baby raccoons and their mother here, ignoring the advice of friends and family scared for my safety to venture outside to take those shots. The masked critters did not swarm me, but instead crunched in perfect concert on the dry cat food I'd left out for Miss Kitty.

Now it appears Mom has gone elsewhere, and the babies are now grown - but still together, like a furry Brady Bunch trapped in a variety show after the sitcom has died. They're bigger, they're badder, and they still all crunch in concert.

It's Hard to Type When You're Cold

And there's no heat in your apartment, so the cats have draped themselves over your lap and arms, and the laptop is your only source of warmth.

I'm just saying.

How Do I F*%&ing Start This Thing?

Is there a proper way to begin a novel?

Can you just sit down and write the thing? Some people claim to do this. They sit down with no outline, no character sketches, no idea of where there story is going, and they just write until its done. A few revisions, and - voila!

I'd hate them if I didn't think they were lying.

They may not have a laboriously worked out an outline, a calendar of events, and collected photos torn from magazines that remind them of the characters in their heads, but they fricking have more than a vague idea! It's been percolating in their brains for weeks/months/years, and by gum, they do so have an idea of where it's headed!

And the real, evil, fabulous truth? Most of them do LOTS of revising.

Don't get me wrong. Unless you're Aaron Sorkin, all writers do lots of revising. But those who do not outline/blah blah blah do LOTS of revising. (And Aaron Sorkin perpetrated Studio 60 on us, so maybe he should look into this revision thing.)

So I advocate starting with a plan of some kind. You may not have all 8 acts or follow the Joseph Campbell hero's journey, or whatever. But figure out who wants what and where they end up with it first. It'll save you grief later.

That said, I wrote the first three pages of a novel over the weekend without a completely worked out outline. It was fun! But I have been working on the character, my world's mythology, and have a vague outline of the story in my head. I just skipped ahead a bit to remind myself of the fun to come so I can finish outlining with a lighter heart.

How to Write the First Book in a Series

Want to write the first book in a fantasy series that will sell and keep the readers hooked? Tune in tomorrow for the live internet chat with several writers who have done it. Check out Fangs, Fur, and Fey's podcast/livecast here. Successful fantasy series writers like Jenna Black and Rachel Vincent will share their secrets.

Writers are strange; humans are strange

Great post by the author of YA novel Graceline, Kristin Cashore over at her blog This is My Secret, all about her writing process and the insanity that goes with it.

If you're a writer, check it out. You'll realize you're not alone in worrying, obsessing, procrastinating, and thinking your writing sucks. There's comfort in knowing you're not alone.

Vampires: Target Women

As Twilight-mania continues to dominate the world of YA fiction and mainstream movies, I continue to struggle with the amazing appeal of these storeis.

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for vampires and fantasy stories and hot romantic this-and-that. But the girl in Twilight is just so passive, so uninteresting, so unable to think and act for herself that she bugs the heck out of me. The male lead is described over and over again as "perfect," until I felt all "she doth protest too much"-y.

But who cares what I think? Teens sure don't. They're sucking down the books and swooning at the movie. Heck, a lot of middle-aged women are swooning too, and probably breaking their hips when they fall.

To help us understand this phenomenon comes the hilariously gifted video reporter Sarah Haskins from Target: Women at Current. Check out her funny and slightly disturbing investigation below:

Don't Write the Sequel Until They Pay You

Here's some good fundamental advice I got from a published author. I was wondering how best to spend my writing time now.

Should I plunge into an outline for the sequel to the book I just finished? Or should I launch into something totally new. The argument for the sequel, in my head, went something like: well, once they buy the first one, I want to be ready to go with the second!

This, of course, assumes someone will actually buy the first one. Blah blah blah, assume makes an ass out of, well, me, mostly.

So don't plot or plan or write your sequel until someone buys the first book. Yes, I do have a strong idea of where the story should go. I figured that out before I wrote the first book. But it could very well be a big fat waste of time if I spent more time on that storyline if no one else likes it the way I do.

So I'm doing research and making up stuff for another book, and I'm in that happy stage where the world is jampacked with possibilities and I can do whatever I want with anyone and everything in the world. Structure and limitations come later.

I'm thankful for...

My wonderful, supportive family and friends.

My health.

My job.

That I've got the time, energy, and wherewithal to write.

Writers like Harper Lee, Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Dave Simon, and George R.R. Martin.

That fragrant pumpkin cupcake with cream cheese frosting I just ate.

The warm, friendly waves at Bellows Beach.

The Advil I just took to counteract the sugar headache from the pumpkin cupcake.

Dictionaries, thesauri, Google, wikipedia, my DSL connection.

Whoever designed my favorite underwear.

How a newborn baby feels when you hold him.

Ink on paper.

Dreams. Hope. Excitement. Laughing till I squeak.

A fat yellow full moon hovering over the Hollywood Hills.

My cat Lucy asleep with her legs in the air.

The smell of orange blossoms.

Plumbing that works.

My other cat Max insisting on lying on top of me.

Charlotte's Web, the Chronicles of Narnia, Half Magic, and all the other books I loved as a child.

Emily Dickinson, John Ford, Van Gogh, Nefertiti's sculptor, the Cave at Chauvet.

Having a wonderful place to go on Thanksgiving filled with people I love and the smell of turkey and pie.

Just Keep Writing, Just Keep Writing...

There's a character is Finding Nemo named Dory who is terribly upbeat and goofy, and one the little mantras she sings is "just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."

I've been feeling a bit low and sorry for myself and disappointed in some stuff. Some of the waiting is over, and I didn't hear what I wanted to hear.

So, after some wallowing, I go back to the mantra - Just Keep Writing. Thank goodness I have supportive friends, some of them fellow writers, some of them not, who tell me that I'm not insane, not to give up, and to get off my ass and keep writing.

So I'm brainstorming some new ideas and having a blast. Nothing like creating a whole new world to make you feel empowered, at least in your own imagination.

Put It Out There

Why is it so hard for me to show people my writing? That's what I want to do for a living (eventually, fingers crossed, if I'm lucky), right?

But some part of me magically wants to make that living writing cool stuff that no one will ever see. Because then no one can ever judge me and find me lacking, silly, or pointless.

Conversely, I find it super frustrating to write continuously in a vacuum, with no reward coming from all the effort.

Jeez, I'm a pain in the ass. I feel like kicking my own butt all over the planet.

But these are the contradictory feelings that I'm always battling - I suck. No I'm great. Why does no one realize how fabulous I am and pay me for it? Why would anyone pay me to do anything?

I suppose there's a middle way, and the truth lies somewhere in there. In the meantime, I'm going to keep pushing back the fear and darkness and try to put it out there, let people see my stuff, and see what happens. It's terrifying, man! But life is short, and other cliches. Just because you broke your leg last time you jumped doesn't mean this one will go badly. Just triple check your parachute.

Why Does this Feel Appropriate?

From The Onion:

Cancer June 22 - July 22
While it's true that the universe works in mysterious ways, it's becoming pretty clear what it has against you.

The Hardest Part

Remember that Tom Petty song, The Waiting? The lyrics say it all: "You take it on faith/You take it to the heart/The waiting is the hardest part."

I can't be specific about what I'm waiting for. It's just not politic. But waiting is part of what you have to do as a writer, and it just fricking sucks. So much about being a writer sucks! It's really hard, man. Don't do it unless you can't help yourself.

Write or Die

Found a cool widget/website at Write or Die/Dr. Wicked that will help you get words on the page.

Check it out here - put in your word count and the time you allocate for yourself to achieve that goal, click, and start to write. The widget will keep track of your time, word count, and even help you paste what you wrote to the clipboard to save it.

I'm not participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this year, but this would be very handy for any NaNo-ers out there trying to meet their word count goals every day.

Or consider this NaNoWriMo calculator to help you stay on track:

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Photos

I finally downloaded my photos of Prague and Budapest. You can see them all at my Flickr site, here.



That's me in front of the John Lennon wall in Prague. Back in the communist days, students started graffiti-ing a tribute to Lennon on a wall in the Castle district of Prague. Despite crackdowns and white washing by both communist and the current regimes, new graffiti continues to appear. I added: "All You Need is Love."



Here I am overlooking Budapest. I'm in a very cool series of towers and walkways in the Buda section of town, overlooking the Danube and Pest on the eastern shore.

Travel is such a privilege. I'm so grateful that I get to galavant all over creation, taking photos and soaking it all in. It's wonderful to be surprised, and every new place I go surprises me in some way, beyond anything the guidebooks could ever tell me. It keeps me humble, widens my viewpoint, and makes me appreciate coming home. If you can get away to another country - go! The flights are hell, the lack of sleep is daunting, and you get sick of looking at a map every time you want to go somewhere. But in return you get to see the world from a different perspective, like a shaft of sunlight hitting the world at an angle you've never seen before. It's revelatory. And it's damned fun.

Yes We Can

Jet Lag = Early Voting

Thanks to jet lag, I awoke at 6am today. So what the hell - I got up, got ready for work, and walked to my polling place at Gardner Elementary School in Hollywood. I'm not a morning person, so I've always voted after work. But today, with an historic, exciting election in the offing, plus jet lag from my trip to Europe, I broke with precedent and actually GOT IN LINE to vote.

I've never had to wait more than two minutes to vote. But today, with a possible victory for a Hawaiian-born black man, I had to wait a whole 30 minutes. It was worth every second.

I love voting on Election Day. I'm all for early voting, absentee voting, or voting by telepathy if that were possible. Anything that makes voting easy and available to all is fabulous. But for myself I love doing it on the official day, stepping up to that rickety little voting "booth" (really more of plastic mini-cubicle at my polling place) and using that short squat inky pen-thingie to mark my choices. Folks around me in the other wobbly cubicles were taking their time marking up their ballots.

I trucked through - click click click, and looked up, blinking. Was I really done? I made way for the next voter and handed my ballot to the wild-haired elderly Russian-American man waiting for me next to the crouched machine that ate it up and belched somehow to show him all was well. He handed me my "I Voted" sticker and a felt a swell of silly pride - in myself, and justified pride - in my country, where power changes hands peacefully at the command of the people.

Voting rocks. It's like telling, for a brief moment, the story of our country, the narrative of your state, the tale of your city.

Empty shoes - Budapest

Another great shot by Wendy. This time we're in Budapest, and the shoes are a memorial to the victims of the Nazis who were executed as they stood along the river Danube. They were forced to take off their shoes before they were shot and fell into the river.

Who were the people who once stood in these shoes? As a writer, my head spins with the possible stories that lead the people to this spot and this horrible fate. How many fascinating stories will never be lived or told because people weren't allowed to live their lives in peace.

Me at the Lennon Wall - Prague

Taken by my lovely travel companion, Wendy. This is a wall in Prague where, during the days of communism, young people would graffiti images of John Lennon. He inspired them. The tradition continues to this day, even though the government routinely white washes the wall. It only provides more room for new folks (like me) to add their own tributes to Lennon.

Interesting how popular art like this can be so moving, so inspirational. I not only had to add my phrase, I wanted immediately to listen to Lennon's music and start lobbying for peace.

Prague and Budapest

Checking in very quickly from Budapest thanks to the internet! I'll post pics once I get back, but here are my quick impressions:

Prague: Sumptuous and hard.

Budapest: Grand and melancholy.

More details to come.