Writing Exercise #2 - Jodi Picoult Month

This exercise is something I intend to do myself (I’ve done all the writing exercises I’ve suggested in this blog), but you can, as always, try it too! You do need a completed manuscript before you start.

Open up the latest edition of Writer’s Market. I like to go to the library and use it there since it saves me something like $20 a year. Browse literary agents until you find one that might be fitting for the manuscript you’re prepared to submit. If it’s an agency, call to ask who’s accepting manuscripts. If it’s an agent, write down his or her contact information.

And that’s enough for one day.

Writing Exercise #1 of Jodi Picoult Month

Picoult advises writers to have a thick skin when it comes to getting their work out there. Let's practice.

For the next week, tell everyone you meet that you're a writer. When they ask, tell them what you're working on. You may want to prepare a cool-sounding spiel first. If any conversation you have turns remotely to any type of work, share the kind of work you do. Follow up with anyone who might be a good contact for you, the writer.

Here's an example of how NOT to do this exercise. I emailed someone in our new area who has small children to find a time and place for us to get together. She said she had heard I was writing a book and she wanted to hear more about it (she must have found out through her husband, who works with my husband). She mentioned she was an artist. So when I emailed back, I answered the questions about our meetup with the kids and totally ignored the writing part. I kind of figured we'd talk about that in person. But I also kind of got scared to talk about it. Didn't want to sound like this: "Oooohhhh, I'm a wriiiiiiiiter, you know."

I pledge to answer that email again before tonight is done, this time with details about my novel.

Fascinating Things

Read this post about Lewis’s advice to write only about certain things before reading the rest of this post.

What really, I mean REALLY, interests you?

Quickly, without thinking about it, write down 10 things that fascinate you. Read over them. You should be writing about these things.

Do This Now

Before reading this post, read this one about C. S. Lewis's advice to "write with the ear."

Now read a couple of pages of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or a Dr. Seuss book, out loud.

Write whatever comes into your head for five minutes. Read it out loud. Does it have a rhythm? Is it written with the ear?

I Feel Like Cookie Monster (Results of My Revision Retreat)

Ho-ly...! I did my retreat, in a way. (Read this post if you want to know what I'm talking about.)

Instead of an overnight, I opted for the sneak-in-and-get-it-done-quick strategy. Announced to my husband I wanted to spend all of Sunday at the coffee shop revising my novel, got his commitment to take care of our son all day, and had them drop me off at the 24-hour coffee shop. Worked from 8:30 this morning to 7:30 this evening with about a half-hour break for foraging. (The 24-hour coffee shop is in the corner of a supermarket.)

Are you surprised by my long-term concentration and effort? Me too. I sat right down, coffee in one hand, red pen in the other, and did what Stephen King suggests. I went through that s.o.b. in one sitting. First revision complete! Now I have to finish typing up the revisions. I wanted to do that tonight, but I am as exhausted as if I had done--get this--a full day of work.

Gwabgwab, gwabgwab, cookie, omomomomom!

Revision Exercise Part Two

Read Part One here if you haven't already. Then take your 24 hours' free time, your loving helpmate, and your dependent and mix them together. Tell them you will be back in 24 hours, more or less. Leave emergency numbers but NOT a number where you can be reached. Bring your manuscript, red pen, alarm, takeout food, and ready-made snacks to the uninterruptable place with the bathroom.

Set the alarm for 24 hours from now. Revise. Quickly now. Revise more. Don't touch that TV! Or that phone! Don't even THINK about the Internet. Make a list of the things you want to look up or do online and do them later.

Go home when the alarm goes off. Voila! You have revised your manuscript.

Revision Exercise Part One - Stephen King Month

This exercise will help you (me) implement the Kingian strategy of reading through for revision all in one shot. See this post for more detail about the strategy. This exercise isn't suggested by King, though I think he would approve if it got the job done. Nope, it's purely from a mom's perspective, a solution to the puzzle of how to follow his recommendation when you have a toddler at home.

Requirements:
a child, children, dog, or other needy creature who depends daily on you
an alarm
one loving husband, partner, grandparent, relative, loyal friend, or other helpmate
a place where you will not let yourself be interrupted
your manuscript
a red pen
takeout food and ready-made snacks (caffeinated beverages optional but recommended)
24 hours' free time (which you have fought for and arranged)
a close-by bathroom

Get these requirements together. Then come back for Part Two.

Steinish Writing Exercise

Stein says to ask yourself, "How alive is my main character?" He says it's one of the most important factors in whether or not people will want to read your book.

Here's an exercise meant to flesh out a main character.

Think about a movie you watched or a book you read. Insert your main character in the place of the main character of the movie or book. What would your main character have done differently? How would the plot have changed as a result? How would your character have related to the other characters in the movie or book? If you feel stumped, go back to developing your main character into a multidimensional, likeable, flawed person. Or at least a character you can imagine in settings other than your manuscript.

Writing Exercise, Prefaced By Stuff That's Not Writing

I am feeling lazy about writing today. Instead of writing this post, I've been:

1. Doing laundry.

2. Looking up potty training tips (for my son, not me--I totally get it).

3. Checking my email.

4. Searching for and writing down homemade recipes for toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, and household cleaning.

5. Voting for Joshilyn Jackson's gods in Alabama for Spread the Word's Top 10 Books to Talk About. You can vote here, too.

Ugh. After typing that list, I'm still stuck. Here's a simple writing exercise for you and me: Open up the *^%%$# program that is storing our work in progress and at least, for the love of Madeleine, look at it.

Response to Writing Exercise

In the picture, I look pretty with my long hair and red ribbon, like I could have been one of the Little House on the Prairie girls. But I also look tired. There are bags under my eyes belying the pretty, kind, posed smile. One arm is draped around Johanna's side--she's tipped over against me--but one is flicking or moving the rattle in her other hand, surreptitiously. My face gives nothing away, as if I am sitting perfectly still simply posing and smiling for the camera as I've been told to do. I don't know what I was trying to do with that rattle. I imagine I was trying to keep Johanna from bringing it up to her face, trying to make sure everything works out perfect for my mom and dad taking the picture.

On Jeff's face is a curious, crowd-pleasing smile, too. For some reason his expression brings back my memories of him being stubborn and making sure to do whatever it was he had set his mind on doing. He would bite you if you didn't let him. I remember that. Perhaps it was his method of preserving his true self against all attempts to civilize him. He has always been like that, I think. Polite and responsible on the outside, determined to be himself and only himself on the inside.

I look at Johanna and remember her only as a passive, grinning, sometimes angry baby. She has the roundest, softest body of the three of us in the picture, though this is because she is the youngest--only half a year old, probably. All of us have some version of the Shreve nose, but I now notice that each of us has slightly different-shaped eyes. Different colors, too. I can't read Johanna's round, blue, wondering eyes. I have never been able to tell what she was thinking. She has been a mystery to me most of her life. For me, that has been a deep source of sadness and confusion. Lately she entrusts me with more information and it makes me feel hopeful for her. Jeff seems so easy to read, on the other hand, that I wonder if I am missing something about him, something big and important and hidden.

Back to me: What do I remember about being six and a half years old? Nothing much. A brick house in a bad neighborhood that I didn't perceive that way. It was simply our house. A house was a good thing. There were people in that neighborhood that made me feel bad and suspicious, but that was the way things were, not bad nor good. One person who made me feel funny was our next door neighbor Nikki, a twelve-year-old who may have been hiding terrible things behind her careful adult demeanor. Her parents screamed and threw dishes at each other and I remember once a police car showed up at their house. I didn't connect her parents' screaming and throwing to that of my own parents because I didn't think about her parents very much. That was her life. I was wholly concerned with my own.

My teacher at the time, Mrs. Musselman, once made me drink spoiled orange juice that had been packed in my lunchbox. I still remember the taste of it--too sweet and too filmy with a strong rancid undertone. I think I cried. Mrs. Musselman was very strict. We learned phonics and the Spanish names of colors and spelling.

I had a crush on John Somebody-or-other at this age. I thought the blue-eyed blonde boy walked on water. Who knows why. The only things I remember him doing are shooting a cap-gun at the ceiling of our classroom during show and tell (against the teacher's orders) and walking across the school parking lot to get in one of the cars and go home.

I don't remember anything else at home. I don't remember much about my younger brother and sister until we were older. I don't know if that's normal for young kids or not. But I do still remember the nightmares I had in which I tried unsuccessfully to save my baby sister. In one, I was in a deserted dark airport in the middle of a big city. A fat Garfield-esque cat was doing terrible things. I tried to stop him but his underling cats tickled me until I had no breath. In another recurring nightmare, two cartoon bears with bright blue flower garlands around their heads took Johanna and threw her down headfirst on our concrete patio leading out to the backyard. I never had these dreams about Jeff. I think he's always had to take care of himself.

What I feel for my siblings is awe for the wonderful people they are, an abiding respect, and an eternal anxiety about their wellbeing. In this picture we all look happy, well-groomed, adorable, even matching in our red and white stripes. When I glance at it (it's up on the wall above my desk) I think about the love that binds us. But I don't ever think we were simply happy.

There have been happiness and joy in my life in greater measure than I expected. I have always acknowledged these gifts and moments of peace and been grateful and guilty for them.

Now is the time to acknowledge all the other feelings.

Repeating the Younger Self Writing Exercise

I wanted to come up with a writing exercise that would help me follow L'Engle's advice to "hold true to your vision". Then I remembered I had never done the exercise I posted about tapping into my younger self. Here it is again:

"A writing exercise:

Sit in a room alone and stare at a picture of yourself at a tender age. I'm going to find a picture of me at four years old, because I think that was the year I was most engaged in life. Stare at it until you think you can't stare at it any longer, then sit there for another five minutes. Let memories flow through your mind. Watch them.

Then begin to write."

After I post this, I'm going to take down the 24-year-old picture of me and my siblings in our matching red pajamas and do what I wrote above.

Yes, Let's Channel Our Very Young Selves

A writing exercise:

Sit in a room alone and stare at a picture of yourself at a tender age. I'm going to find a picture of me at four years old, because I think that was the year I was most engaged in life. Stare at it until you think you can't stare at it any longer, then sit there for another five minutes. Let memories flow through your mind. Watch them.

Then begin to write.

Writing Exercise - Notecards

Anne Lamott, in her book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, says she carries a folded notecard and pen in her pocket every time she goes anywhere without a bag or purse (she has notebooks and writing utensils stashed in those). That way she can jot down anything funny or weird or otherwise touching that she sees.

I'm going to leave a stack of notecards and a pen on my microwave, which is on my way out the door, and I'll try to have one on me at all times. Walking and washing the dishes are two of the best ways to get great ideas. With a notecard on hand, I can record those thoughts before I forget them. I guess I'll have to write my dishwashing ideas in leftover mashed potatoes.

Signoff

This is just to say that I am beginning my three hours of writing with no distractions. (I scheduled this in Thursday's post.) I finished writing haiku (and here's why I started in the first place), my husband's out of the house, my son is asleep, I'm drinking coffee, and I'm about to sign off the Internet. The one program I'll be using besides CopyWrite is iTunes.

Now get out of my face!

Writing Assignment (& It's a Doozy)

Here's an assignment for you and me, inspired by the Michael Palmer quote I posted two days ago:

Take a three-hour block for yourself. Have someone else watch the kids or do the chores. Don't tell anyone how to get hold of you for those three hours. If you have to, do it in the dead of night. Turn off your phone. Do NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, connect to the Internet. Use your computer or a pad of paper, whatever you usually write on. Write for three hours without looking at anything else for the entire time except maybe a watch.

I'll be doing this Monday night. See the picture above for an idea of what I will look like after an hour without the worldwide web.

If you already do this regularly, wonderful. You're probably published. It sounds hard to me, but what is life without creative challenges?

Writing Game

I'm going to play a game with myself tonight. I promised I would write from 8:00-10:00 each night this month, and I've had trouble staying on task during that time frame, so here's my solution:

Every ten minutes, I'll email my brother, Jeff, with an update of how many words I've written tonight (on my novel only). That way, I'm forced to either work on my novel straight through or send some pretty pitiful emails.

The twist: I haven't asked Jeff's permission yet, so he'll be surprised to see all my correspondence. Hi, Jeff! Thanks for being there!

He's a very supportive and easygoing guy. You should get a friend or two like my brother, and then use them.

Palmer-ish Writing Exercises

Rereading Michael Palmer's biography page on his website, I noted an interesting step he took before deciding to write novels. He and his sister discussed what they really liked about thrillers, the genre he liked to read and wanted to write. His approach to the noveling process is more structured and logic-based than some other successful authors, and it may not work for everyone. But I can't see how it would hurt to discuss the best elements of a genre in which you intend to write.

Here's the first Palmerian writing exercise: Discuss, either among friends or colleagues or in a private journal, the genre you have chosen to write in. What elements are always incorporated in the best books of that genre? Take a look back at your favorite book in the genre. What passages delighted you the most? How did the author keep you turning the pages?

I'd even suggest you take a look at a book in this genre that you really didn't like. What did you hate about it?

Another Palmerian assignment: Consider the popularity of books by Palmer, Robert Ludlum, John Grisham, Arthur Hailey, and many others who write about a particular profession (the medical field, secret government agencies, lawyers, etc.) Stephen King mentioned this phenomenon briefly in his book On Writing. These books attract readers by giving them what feels like an insider's glimpse into the profession. Any profession that can only be attained by people with a certain talent or level of training will do. People are fascinated by surgeons, pilots, martial artists, clowns, whatever. Hey, even housewives have drama. The trick is to write about housewives of a certain kind.

Journal about whether or not you have knowledge or experience of a profession that would be interesting to people who aren't in the know. Take a look at what you do every day. Is there a way that it could be made "sexy" to readers of your novel?

One last item: I believe I remember hearing Michael Palmer talk about his daily writing time in an interview at the end of one of his audiobooks (probably The Patient or Natural Causes). I can't find the information to back it up right now, but I remember him saying he worked in the ER during the day, returned home to spend time with his kid, then wrote every night in his home office for two hours. As part of my Michael Palmer Month (being a parent myself with lots of work to do during the day), I pledge to write each night from 8:00 to 10:00. I think Palmer would approve of regular hours at a regular time.

After doing the exercises I just suggested, I'm off to work on my newly-begun novel.

(image at top from http://colophon.com/gallery/minsky/futurist.htm)