Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Okay Book and Movie Buffs Help Me Out Here!

I need the titles of movies you think have stellar dialog.
I need the titles of movies you think have horrible dialog.

I need the titles of novels you think have stellar dialog.
I need the titles of novels you think have horrible dialog.

Why, you ask? Because I'm putting together an internet class on writing good dialog. The class is titled, thanks to my friend R., "Frankly My Dear…" Writing Unforgettable Dialog.

Conversation is one of my writing strengths. Earning money as a writer is one of my goals. Put them together and you get a class on writing conversation. Make sense? I thought so.

So I'm good at writing dialog, but I'm not comfortable using my work as examples in my class. I'd much rather use even better, and even worse work than mine. Which brings me to the above questions - I'd love your opinion. What do you think?

Friday, June 25, 2010

Food vs Emotion - Food wins every time

Here's what I don't understand: Food.


I was a tad anxious today. Unsettled. Grumpy in the morning. I have legit reasons for anxiety so I'm not worried about that at all. Its this:

I was craving food. Not just any food, the stuff I shouldn't eat. Fat and sweet. The fact that I wasn't going to let myself have those foods was making me, if anything, worse. I started craving ice cream. I needed it. I wanted it. I had to have it. If I didn't have it I was going to die of twitchy, mind exploding emotion. I could have crawled out of my own skin.

So why? I can understand alcohol, it's mind altering. It puts a damper on anxiety, at least for me. It lets all those inhibitions loose. But I have no trouble not drinking alcohol. I have maybe two drinks a year, and those I could take or leave. Drugs the same way. Don't appeal to me.

But food. Oh God. I go into withdrawal. I crave the strangest things. Diet Coke/Pepsi. Nuts. Cookies. Chocolate, of course, but most especially ice cream. Now why is that? I know sugar can alter moods and caffeine. Oh and Chocolate. But nuts? Salt of course and fats. Are fats mind altering, because truthfully I could eat avocados non-stop for a month. Sliced, mashed, guac'ed. Avocados are lovely on toast with a little salt. So it doesn't have to be ice cream, avocados work too.

As you can probably tell, I caved. I ate an ice cream sandwich in the car outside the hardware store. And I immediately felt BETTER. Not like a pill whee you have to wait 20 minutes to get rid of a headache. Immediately. Better. Twitchiness all gone. Head back where it belongs.

This really bugs me because eating ice cream isn't in my best interest. It's hell on my blood sugar. But it works. It brings me down from places a therapist can't even reach, and it does it in five seconds flat.

Okay, I give. The therapist could probably get there eventually, but who wants eventually when you can have right now? Not me, obviously. I couldn't even make it out of the hardware store. But why?

I've heard of stuffing emotions, I haven't had my head in the sand for the bast twenty-five years. But I still don't get how avocado on toast can bring immediate relief from crawling skin and the desire to leave the country. NOW.

And cream cheese with Nutella on a toasted bagel? Takes me to heaven.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Wanted - Beta Readers

So here's the deal. I'm doing things a little differently for this book and I'm looking for beta readers (see definition below) who aren't actually writers. I'm thinking three or four people who are willing to read a total of about 50 pages.

Now, if you are a writer, but think you can keep your writerly instincts under control that's ok. I'm looking for comments about story, not grammar, sentence structure or spelling or character arc. That stuff is all going to change later anyway.

You should like a romance (lightly comedic) sprinkled with paranormal elements. I'm talking mermaids and magic here. Not dark creatures.

You should be willing to read electronic copy (or print it out on your own) because the printing and mailing is expensive and time consuming.

You should be willing to write me a email/post/missive about what worked for you, and what didn't. What you liked, what confused you. What was clear. What was not. Did you like the voice? Did you think the story and voice meshed. Do you think the hole thing is drivel and should be shelved. If you'd like a form to fill out I think I could come up with one if anyone asks. Otherwise it's just what comes to your mind.

The ability to ignore typos is also a good thing, because you'll be reading a draft, not finished product, and there are going to typos and interesting word choices!

BETA READER: A brave soul (male or female) that likes to read works in process and comment honestly on the contents. Truthfulness is important, and so is the ability to be truthful without being ruthless. Being specific is okay. Being mean is not.  In other words it's ok to say "I just didn't like this." It's not okay to say "Your writing stinks."  It's okay to say "I think Johnny is a shallow SOB and he needs some positive character traits." Not okay to say "What's wrong with you that you think Johnny is a guy that any of us could relate to?"  Savvy?

Apply within.

Friday, June 18, 2010

A Parenting Code of Honor

The discussion over at Alastair's Paper Bullets of the Brain has been very interesting lately. He raised questions about the meaningfulness of the Chivalric Code in today's world. Is it relevant, is it not. Does trying to raise the consciousness of men necessarily demean women? Does a code that requires a certain behavior of men toward women intrinsically reduce the status of women? I think not, but there's lots of very intelligent discussion over there for you to peruse. Just don't fry your synapses. They take a while to recover.

While thinking all this deep and meaningful stuff over, I witnessed something in my own life that made me think there should be a code of conduct for parents toward their children.

1) could be distilled as - cause no physical harm

2) could read  - cause no emotional harm including shaming, belittling, yelling, threatening. Nothing but the building up of emotional worth in children allowed.

and

3) should read no part of this code shall require parents to stay in painful or unhealthy relations for the sake of their children. Because I believe that children learn to parrot those painful and unhealthy ways of relating.

When a woman stays in an abusive relationship to create stability for her children she teaches them some very negative ideas. Like if a man treats a woman badly she should just take it. If my mother took it, then I should take it too.

We teach our girls to sacrifice their happiness for their children. In fact we teach them to stay in abusive relationships for the sake of their own children, which is just wrong. There is a cycle of unhealthy and unhappy behavior that needs to be stopped.

And we teach our boys that it doesn't matter how they behave, their women will stay with them regardless, to give stability to their children.

I say stop it now.

The following may fall under the category of too much information. If you're squeamish about personal details you might want to stop reading now.

I've recently realized that I am living my mother's life. My mother left my angry and emotionally unstable father to marry an emotionally closed man. She stayed in that unhappy marriage until the second we all moved out and then she fled. That has been my plan. I was waiting for my youngest to turn 18 when I could flee.

When I made that plan I didn't realize that I was thus dooming my girls to repeat the whole thing again. And dooming my boys to behave like giant asses until some smart woman hits them over the head with a frying pan.

As an aside, I don't think my brothers became giant asses, so maybe boys don't become their fathers. Or maybe I have exceptionally astute brothers, I don't know which but it's probably the later.

But it's all just freaking wrong, making martyrdom for one's children a virtue. And yet my mother believed it. She advised me to stay, even after she witnessed the meanness, the smallness of spirit my husband exhibited toward our small children. Before she passed away six years ago I asked her point blank if there was any point in leaving a bad relationship and she said no. She said it was unlikely I would find anything better. Stick it out was her advice. I wish now that I hadn't listened.

Because now my children have learned to talk abusively to me, their mother. The boys and girls alike will use contempt on me in order to try and get their way. They don't get their own way, I'm not rewarding that behavior, but it appalls me that they think it's okay to talk to me like that. But I know where they learned it, and I'm stopping the cycle now.

I wish there had been a code of honor among parents when I married. I think both my husband and I would have done better if there were clear rules. Sure there are books and whatnot floating around, but what if there had been an "Order of the Enlightened Parents?" And elite group to inspire the rest of us. will clear rules - and not too many. Like my rules above. Only better, and more so. More like the Chivalric Code. A code that demanded honor among parents. A code that stated that yelling at children is smarmy. That an adult is supposed to control their own behavior when the child cannot.

Would I have been a better parent if there had been an elite group to aspire to? I think so. I'm very competitive that way. I would have wanted to belong to the Divine Group of With It and Compassionate Parents. Who wouldn't?

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Endings - moved forward

I wrote this last Thursday but not much has changed sense then!

This is not a post about ending my book, although I'm getting there. No, it's that tomorrow is my last day at this job. I didn't particularly like what the school had me doing this year. Riding rough shod on teenagers who haven't learned respect. I don't just mean respect for me. They destroyed the stapler, two calculators, one of the tables I had to bring from home so they could have a decent work surface.

I really should be celebrating my release from this windowless room. It's been a hell of a year.

But the thing is. I never woke up dreading work. I wanted to be here. I enjoyed the kids most of the time. It was the shit job, the job no-one wanted. Hell, I didn't want it. But I took it, and I made it my own. My review was stellar, I'm told they like to keep me, but they aren't. No contract.

You know it hurts more than it should. Feeling unwanted. Yes, I know I shouldn't feel UNWANTED, after all it's budget cuts and all that. But it's hard not to. I liked getting to know the kids. Feeling like I made an impact on their lives. And I'm being cut loose, not just from the job but also from the money.

So it's scary and sad. And I'm mad that I'm letting it get to me.

To hell with them. I can go spread my joy somewhere else.

But hidden behind that righteous anger is the real sadness. The young woman who came into our lives and changed all of us for the better is leaving us in a few days. She'll be going home to her own family, in her own country and moving on with her life. She's off to college, to the start of a new life. I want to go too.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

The LIRW Luncheon, The Good, The Bad and The Lovely

In the interest of full disclosure let me just say that I was up prior to 4 am yesterday, spent close to 14 hours driving to and from, didn't get to bed until after midnight last night, AND because my body doesn't realize the school year is over I was up at 6 am this morning. I may be a tad cranky! So If I'm out of line on any point feel free to call me on it.

Firstly, we were late. The Tom tom we were using played a huge practical joke on us and sent us into the Bronx, and we spent a good deal of time on surface streets before regaining the freeway and making our way onto Long Island, where the luncheon was held. We (my three NECRWA companions and I) arrived late and flustered and in need of the ladies room.

LIRW graciously held lunch for us. Which I thought was lovely of them. So we missed the champagne reception, and the opportunity for networking before the lunch. That was disappointing, but certainly NOT LIRW's fault. The room the luncheon was held in was beautiful, the waitstaff attentive, the food excellent. And the air conditioning kicked in at all the right times.

I sat next to Steven Zacharius of Kensington Books. He was gracious and entertaining and fielded my questions with good humor. He was a very entertaining luncheon partner, as well as the keynote speaker, and he gave me some very good advice.

The food was fabulous. Hands down the nicest lunch I've had in a while. I'd place that in the lovely category too. Now those of you who are squeamish had better cover your eyes, because the next three points are bad.

Maybe it's just me, but if you put together a luncheon for writers to have the opportunity to schmooze with editors and agents, the proper thing to do is to let the writers schmooze. One of the luncheon organizers sat on Mr.Zacharius's other side. It was obvious they knew each other well, talking and chatting of this and that. I had to rudely interrupt to get Steven's attention, a privilege I paid highly for. That was bad form in my mind. And perhaps I'm being a tad diva-ish, but I thought she should have introduced him and then stepped gracefully out of the way.  Just my opinion, but I paid $60 bucks to go to that luncheon, spent seven hours in a car getting there and I should not have had to wrestle an organizer for the opportunity to do what I had paid for. - See I told you, I'm grouchy.

The other BAD, and I personally consider this really bad, again my opinion.  I am a non-smoker. The lovely lady sitting next to me was most obviously a smoker. She disappeared at regular intervals and came back bringing a cloud of smoke with her. Okay obviously not a CLOUD but definitely the SMELL. Not something I care to ever be subjected to, but especially not while I was eating. Now, had this woman been a guest I wouldn't have been so appalled. (Okay, I would have been appalled, but not to the same degree.) Nothing the hosts can do about a guests behaviour.  But again this lady was one of the organizers. She was delightful in all other ways, but surely people who smoke realize the stench is unpleasant to non-smokers, and being a HOST to the rest of us should have lent a certain responsibility for courteous behavior that toward her guests? Again, I'm cranky, but cigarette smoke and food - YUCK!

One other Bad, not one the organizers could have done anything about. During the keynote speech, one of the agents in attendance was making rude comments - out loud. The writers don't want to hear this stuff? Well I'm a writer and I wanted to hear it. We all have been at functions where we didn't enjoy some aspect of the talk. The POLITE thing to do is to shut up, make your to do list (in your mind - again we are avoiding being rude here,) and complain about the speakers when you get back to work. Your co-workers are a fine audience for your annoyance, but to foist your opinion onto the other invited agents and editors AND on the guests who PAID for the privilege to listen to that speech. Badly Done - to quote Jane Austen. It's unlikely that the person who committed this act of abject rudeness will ever read this, or recognize herself if she does, but if you have the sneaking feeling this was you: Shame on you. You're mother would be very disappointed!

Hmm, maybe I should be interning with Miss Manner's instead of writing novels, except I have a sneaking feeling this post would also be considered rude!

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Endings

I wrote this last Thursday but not much has changed sense then!

This is not a post about ending my book, although I'm getting there. No, it's that tomorrow is my last day at this job. I didn't particularly like what the school had me doing this year. Riding rough shod on teenagers who haven't learned respect. I don't just mean respect for me. They destroyed the stapler, two calculators, one of the tables I had to bring from home so they could have a decent work surface.

I really should be celebrating my release from this windowless room. It's been a hell of a year.

But the thing is. I never woke up dreading work. I wanted to be here. I enjoyed the kids most of the time. It was the shit job, the job no-one wanted. Hell, I didn't want it. But I took it, and I made it my own. My review was stellar, I'm told they like to keep me, but they aren't. No contract.

You know it hurts more than it should. Feeling unwanted. Yes, I know I shouldn't feel UNWANTED, after all it's budget cuts and all that. But it's hard not to. I liked getting to know the kids. Feeling like I made an impact on their lives. And I'm being cut loose, not just from the job but also from the money.

So it's scary and sad. And I'm mad that I'm letting it get to me.

To hell with them. I can go spread my joy somewhere else.

But hidden behind that righteous anger is the real sadness. The young woman who came into our lives and changed all of us for the better is leaving us in a few days. She'll be going home to her own family, in her own country and moving on with her life. She's off to college, to the start of a new life. I want to go too.

Clara of the Sea

The problem is my protagonist, Clara. Clara has been missing a last name since I started writing her story. I figured it would come to me, somewhere in the text and then I would just have to go back and fill it in where ever it seemed necessary. I'm pages away from finishing this book and still no name.

I've thought of a fake name for her, one that her mother uses when she puts her on TV. But her own true surname still alludes me. I'm thinking it has something to do with the sea.

Clara's "TV" Name is Ariel Marina. Clara's mom isn't all that original, she just wants her daughter's name to sound pretty and exotic and be reminiscent of mermaids.

Clara's real name is harder for me. I want it to be about the ocean, but not obviously so. I'm thinking Valtameri - but that doesn't sound right with Clara. Clara Valtameri. Nope. Try again. How about Clara Karagatan. That might work. Okyanas. Clara Okyanas? Mor? Clara Mor. Unfortunately the o has a tent over it and I don't know the correct keystroke to make that work, so maybe that's not the choice for me. Clara Moore. Mor is Welsh, Farraige is Irish.

You can see the problem, there are too many possibilities! It has to have a ring to it, and it has to connect her to the sea. I'll be at this all day!

Friday, June 4, 2010

Name that Dialog

I'm putting together a class on dialog and need a catchy title for it.

Snappy dialog that...
smart talking
chipper chatter?

All REALLY bad.

Got any ideas?

Blatant Self Promotion

More Blatant Self Promotion (aka Shameless self Promotion)

Hi all, Stop by the Author's Show http://www.theauthorsshow.com/ on Monday, June 7th - where Don McCauley will be interviewing me. It's not live so you can check it out any time that day.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

A Book Within a Book

Yesterday I found myself writing a book within a book. Quoting passages from a non-existent book in my current wip. The funny thing is that story has become very clear in my mind. So even though I've written maybe five paragraphs, the rest of the novel is floating around in my brain, begging the question "Is this a story I need to write?"

I could write it. It's probably only a novella. I shudder as I say this knowing I am tempting fate. I say a novella and the universe laughs and feeds a bunch more into my head making it an epic 150000 word novel. Or something horrible like that.
But the question really is should I take the time to write it. Would it be interesting to anyone but me? That's pretty much an unanswerable question. No one has seen the first story, so how could I know if they are interested in the second, nested within it? I don't know, and I have so many other projects that need to be written that the smart thing would be to ignore this one. But it keeps bumping up against the edges of my brain; trying to work its way out in such a way that I'm not sure I'm going to be able to ignore it.