talk about it

I've been researching a possible non-fiction project. Here's the process so far:

1. A loooong period of brainstorming, and bouncing various ideas off friends. Scratch that--not ideas, but questions. Which questions were my friends and acquaintances interested in? Which ones made their eyes light up?

2. Lots of note-taking sessions on non-fiction books (Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell was a huge help) and documentaries (16 and Pregnant on MTV is my personal fav) to guide me in terms of structure.

3. Mini eureka moment! An article in the newspaper connected with all the thinking I'd been doing. My thoughts coalesced into an actual thesis I wanted to study more--and one which could be easily translated into a solid structure.

4. Went online and searched for local resources about the topic--there were tons, but I got cold feet. Hit the books instead...of which my library had exactly two.

5. Working through the books at the moment, taking notes upon notes and feeling very much like I'm in Soc. 101. But is this the best way to research?

6. ?!

Damn, I know I need to talk to people in order to get real answers...but I also need a certain amount of background research in order to know which questions to ask.

Critical Critiques

On "Ward Six" today, J.R. Lennon writes, "A good editor treats the story as something other than a masturbatory enterprise; she is trying to figure out how to make the world accept and enjoy your vision."

Sure, a writer must think of different perspectives--especially since after Draft 5 or so, it's pretty hard for a writer (or me, anyway) to have any real perspective at all. Trust in one's editor IS necessary if one is going to leap the chasm between writing as therapy/hobby and writing as entertainment/career; nobody can make it alone. But how much should one worry about the editor's personal biases?

I'm not at a point where I have a real editor--I just have literate, kind friends who are willing to read my work and talk to me about it. They've helped me transform my stories, but sometimes I feel as though their advice isn't representative of the general audience but just of their own personal taste/interests.

For instance, one of those friends is an actor who loves Spanish/South American literature. He has a taste for "archetypal" characters, unsolved mysteries, and a bittersweet tone; he also has a high tolerance for magical realism. Another of my friends is very into conventional fantasy, but shies away from explicit physicality, and she is a stickler for authentic, researched detail. Both of these friends are fantastic readers, but when the first says he "loves the characters" or the second says she doesn't understand why a couple had sex, alarms go off in my head.

Does he love the characters because they're love-able, or because he likes recognizable archetypes? Does the sex scene feel disconnected from the story, or is it just not to my friend's taste?

I guess the writer/editor relationship just takes a while to understand, but I struggle in deciding when to second-guess myself and when to second-guess my reader(s).

The ways I've found to get the most useful critiques possible:

1. Ask for problems, not solutions. As the writer, I know the story backwards and forwards by the time anyone else sees it. That means my eye glosses over the problems; I require fresh readers to catch them. But it also means that I'm best prepared to find solutions. Most non-writers are taught that constructive criticism means not calling attention to a thing unless they can offer an alternative to the problem. But while discussing possible solutions can lead to a fantastic brain storm, it's the writer's job to ultimately make a story work, not the readers'.

2. Reassure the readers that I will not ever, ever, ever get mad at them for any of their criticism. If a reader can't come up with a solution, he might think that either the problem he sensed doesn't exist, or that it would be unkind to bring it up. It's essential that the reader not be afraid to mention every little tingle of feeling for fear of the writer becoming defensive. I usually say again and again and again to the reader that this piece is *not* me--I will *not* take criticism of the piece to be criticism of me--and that every little thought the reader had was valuable. I also make sure to stay quiet and not explain anything while the reader is telling me what s/he felt--often listening to the reader figure out a piece out loud is invaluable.

3. Tell the reader what I want them to look for or talk to me about. Usually I have certain questions about the piece, and I'll ask the reader to think about them while reading. I try not to be too specific re: plot or research detail, because it's more valuable to hear what the reader picked up on or missed without any guidance. But when it comes to theme, I will ask them afterwards or on a second reading to think about specifics. And on the first reading, I tell them: I want every thought that comes into your head, and every tinge of feeling you get, too. I tell them to forget about me and think about the piece as though it were a stranger's. Most of my readers are people who yell at the TV during shows or parse movies after viewing, so once they get into the swing of the criticism, they usually feel like they're on comfortable, familiar ground.

4. Listen to what the readers *don't* say. Sometimes things I thought were huge holes weren't actually noticeable. Likewise, sometimes readers will all have misgivings about the same (unexpected!) thing. In my last editing experience, both my readers talked about a certain plot element with a kind of disgusted or confused tone. Though neither mentioned specific problems with it, their tone of voice signaled to me that something was wrong. I think neither mention problems with the element because they thought it was integral to the plot--they couldn't actually imagine the story without it. But based on their half-hidden disgust, I took out the element--and the story is MUCH stronger for it; the element wasn't as integral as it seemed to first or second time readers, and in fact distracted from the real story. Readers often seem loath to suggest big changes or problems with a story's core elements--but often their tiniest hints will reveal real problems with a piece. The hints readers give can often be more telling than their explicit criticism, because readers' instincts are often more sophisticated than their ability to articulate analysis.

I'm so thankful to my friends for being willing to read my stories, and for doing it so ably; without them, my most recent piece couldn't exist. Because of their feedback I could transform it from a weird waking dream into a meaningful story--and my best work to date.

Still, I'm not sure that I picked up on all of the story's problems. Should I have listened to my readers even more? Or just a little less? The story speaks to me now, and it speaks to them--but what about a wider audience, an audience outside of my loved-ones?

Collaboration and Control

After writing class on Saturday, I got coffee with a fellow student.

Our manuscripts are both skirting the edge of literary/horror and both have a medical tinge. We're both twenty-odd years younger than anyone else in class. Turns out, we also were both taught by the same teachers at the same university at the same time. Ok, she graduated *one* year ahead of me.

It was bliss talking shop to somebody else in my boat. Some who is

1. serious enough about writing to make social and financial sacrifices in an effort to make it her number one priority-- and who is in for the long haul;

2. has the training to know the basics and the jargon that makes critique so much easier and friendlier;

3. has the curiosity and imagination to do fascinating and in-depth research, as well as using the world around her as inspiration;

4. is open-minded enough to not worry about being low-brow; and

5. is my age! I never knew before trying out these writers' groups and classes how different our aesthetic is from people even ten, fifteen years older... it was a relief to be around someone who wouldn't be confused at a literary jump-cut, or flinch at melodrama or super-human violence. Not to say everyone in their early to mid twenties has the same aesthetic-- but I do find a disconnect between how people my age and people even a decade older understand stories.

We started talking scripts, and are currently doing research so we can beat out a story in a couple weeks-- the idea is phenomenal (or at least, it'll be fun and challenging to work on) and it's such a *relief* not to be in total control.

With this claymation project, it's all me: the story, the lights, the sound, the camera work, the set, the schedule, and on and on and on. With all my manuscripts and short stories, there are fewer logistics, but I still bare all responsibility. It's only my vision on the page.

Which is nice in it's way-- but it's also overwhelming--and lonely. *This* is why I thought television writing would be wonderful-- because collaboration is part of the joy. We write to communicate, right? It's easy to loose that when you have to spend all your time in your own little world, all by yourself. It's fascinating to layer visions-- the actors', director's, production crew, AND the writer's. In this case, writers'.

It'll be a new experience for me to collaborate (long-term) on a script, but so far it's invigorating. I would never have thought of this story alone, but it immediately sparked my imagination, and I do think I have a lot to add to our partnership. This will be an adventure, but the comradery alone is enough to make it exciting and worthwhile-- let alone all I have to learn from this woman, our project, and how we function as a team.

Tips are Always Appreciated

My writing has stalled out and every day it makes me more frantic.

I sit in my normal writing spot and stare at my laptop screen. I sit in another, more desk-like spot and stare at lined paper. I go to the library, sit in an isolation desk, and stare at its walls.

It's not that I don't type or write or scribble words-- it's that the words don't coalesce into paragraphs or stories. All I get is gobble-di-gook.

On the other hand, I'm reading more.

How do I quit worrying and love the work? How do I get back in the rhythm?

This is making me wonder/worry/fret about all my life choices. Maybe I should have been a lawyer. Maybe I should have taken science classes (I've always liked science) and turned into a doctor/biologist/whatever the fuck that gets you paid and gives you something interesting to see and think about and do each day.

Not helping: my mother says I'm lazy. I'm also broke.

Is this writer's block? It's like I'm on the fucking VERGE of a tsunami orgasm, and can't-- quite-- go over the edge. Achingly horrific.

Please contribute via words of wisdom and love to the Save Sasha's Sanity fund.

In the Relm of the Smiling Grizzlies

After the glory of finding a wonderful new writing group, I coasted into my new (first, since college) class/workshop.... I figured everything would be glorious, until (of course) the workshop-ers discovered I was young and not especially "literary" and everything hit SPLAT!

Ok, so maybe it was the horrible drive there, and maybe it was the horrible drive back (where is everyone going on a Saturday afternoon?!)-- maybe the actual class won't be bad. God knows I can't give up after the one session.. I've been counting on this workshop:

1. Giving me revision guidance (I've never revised a novel-length story before, and after beating my head against the wall for months, I realize I need help).

2. Giving me a place to workshop with committed, open-minded, experienced writers.

3. Giving me a chance to meet more published writers, and hopefully, get a little guidance from them, too-- or, from the teacher, at least.

On the one hand, the group does seem serious, friendly, and interesting. And the teacher seems confident.

But on the other: she seemed so *so* so incredibly dismissive of anything without "literary" stamped across it. And at the tail-end of class she asked for questions, but didn't actually answer any (she seemed in a huge rush to leave). In fact, we didn't learn a damn thing today.

This class is costing me a few hundred dollars-- dollars which I desperately need. I'm going to stick with it, because I do think some of the writers will be valuable as "eyes"... but I've never felt like a second class citizen-- or so pre-judged-- based on 1. my age 2. my concept before.

OOOOOH wait, not true. That's exactly how I felt last time I went to an event at this writing center. Which led to a long period of shaken-up clogged-up horribly unproductive mess.

The atmosphere at this center might just be wrong for me; it's so stodgy, and you can cut the desperation there with a knife. All these grizzled gray-heads running around looking anxious and WAY too smiley. There aren't any schools around here with programs I can actually afford, and the community writer's groups are generally too loosey goosey-- I'm usually the most experienced person in them.

Of course, I seem to be at least one of the most experienced people in this workshop, too.

How horrible is that? By experienced, I mean that I've churned out a lot of material, participated in a lot of workshops (and writers' groups, at this point), read all the how-to books and articles, belong to all the forums, have gone as far as I possibly can on my own, in terms of learning craft, stretching myself, and committing myself to writing. Of course, I've never published anything outside of school, and feel like a gigantic failure.

Maybe I should start some kind of (online?) group for young writers? Only 22-25 year old's allowed? What's the solution? Who can help? Why must everyone be falsely smiley and seething with jealousy? Or alternatively, so dismissive they barely look you in the face? Why can't everyone just chillax a bit?

Though, when all these "literary" premises could be solved by giving the protagonist a weed stash maybe I shouldn't be surprised that everyone seems so anxious and uptight.

Nerves of Aluminum Foil

Problem:

I'm in a rut.

Solution:

Throw myself out there, and see if anybody can help me get to the next level.  "Anybody" meaning: grad schools, (television) studio fellowships, (book) agents.

So Far:

I turned in my NBC fellowship application on Tuesday, and my ABC/Disney (the biggie-- this is the fellowship that pays, and it's a year long, instead of ten weeks) application yesterday.

My goal was to stick to a deadline and complete/polish my first professional style television script (including brads and card stock and 50 pages of other people's characters talking and acting in ways that makes sense for them AND are interesting to me).  

I'm very proud of myself for doing it, and celebrated last night.  In some ways sending in an application may seem like a small victory, but I think making a goal and achieving it is DEFINITELY worth celebrating :D

My reasons for making this particular goal were:

1.  "Going to Pages"- induced paralysis had set in.  The professional stakes seemed high, and every perfectionist button in my brain was pushed.  But if I didn't apply, I'd have no shot of getting in, and no experience writing television scripts.  So, I decided my goal was: get it done!

I'd been freezing up on my personal statements/autobiography, too, trying to think of this or that *perfect* angle.  But then I realized-- this is art, and an artist's greatest tool is her humanity.  I decided to just be myself-- totally and absolutely myself-- in the essays.

There are a lot of things wrong with me: I'm raw, and young, and still working on the "professional" thing.  BUT, there are a lot of things *right* with me, too: I'm raw, and young, and  happy to experiment, work hard, and learn.  I decided to put myself-- warts AND halo-- out there, and let the fellowship committees decide if I'm right for them.  

2.  Which they would do anyway.  Because: I can't control getting in, and obsessing over things one can't control is the path to brittleness and breakdown.  So, I decided that once the packet left my hands, it was no longer my problem.  If good things come of it being out in the world, all the better-- but in this case, the *journey* was the important part. 

Sure, I can't stop re-thinking everything.  Why are my statements of interest and autobiography so chatty?  Did I explain X plot development enough?  Even though Disney claims they want serialized shows to be current as of July 1, which for me meant up to the season 3 finale..... what if I should have included a "Previously on..." (like Warner Brothers wants)?  

The thing is-- my goal is complete!  The stakes and my control over the outcome are both at zero by now.  I'm going to put the script away for a week, and go back to it in time to send it off for Warner Brothers, hopefully even stronger.  But I'm not going to get down on myself, I'm not going to worry, I'm going to push every negative thought out of my brain, because

I ACCOMPLISHED MY GOAL!!!!! :D  

Which just makes me more confident I can accomplish the next one, too. 

Next Step:

This month, I'm going to send query letters out to agents.  Yes, maybe not a single agent will want to represent me.  Yes, maybe I'll lose the chance to publish this book, despite loving it/slaving away at it.  BUT, once again-- if I don't query agents, I have no chance of publishing.  And if not query now, when?  I'm still polishing, but the re-writing is done, and the story/characters have been set in stone for a while.  

My goals this month are: query 50 agents/get an agent (whichever comes first :D), start another novel I have a fantastic idea for, apply to the Warner Brothers fellowship, and study for the GRE.  

All those goals are within *my* power, and all of those goals will help me feel that even if I'm not climbing out of my rut completely, I'll at least be digging footholds in the walls.  

as seen on tv

Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer has new television fellowship links up on her blog:

Disney:
http://www.abctalentdevelopment.com/programs/programs_writings.html
(deadline 7/1)

WB:
http://writersworkshop.warnerbros.com/
(deadline 7/25)

These fellowships are the fastest/gentlest way to go from lonely scribbler to TV God. Go for it!

Occupation: God

UPDATE: Nathan later scrubbed the word "hobby," because of outcry in the comments.  He writes, "I only meant the word 'hobby' as in something that one does that is not one's career, not as something trivial."

But Nathan, writing *is* my career.  Maybe my ventures will fail and I'll have a very, very quiet career-- and yes, that thought is frightening.  But regardless of who signs my paycheck, writing is my *real* work! 

Nathan Bransford put up an interesting post yesterday about "Writing as Identity."

He said that writing's a hobby.  Sane, sensible people do it because it's "fun."  The people who let the world know THEY ARE WRITERS! are crazies.

Usually, I love his blog-- it's informative while being supportive and unpretentious, and he can be extremely insightful.

HOWEVER, I found this post condescending as hell.

I call myself a writer for many reasons, and writing means a lot of things for me-- the most important of which is definitely not "fun."

1.  Definitions and labels don't exist in a vaccuum.  The point of labeling yourself anything (mother, writer, project manager, whatever) is to give a quick and dirty sketch of the context in which you want your audience to see you.

So, if I'm introduced to someone at a family reunion, I say "I'm so-and-so's daughter/mother/aunt/sister/cousin." Because *that* is the view of myself that provides the best context in that situation.

If I'm talking to people about what I do to pay the bills, I tell them I'm a [day job].

But if I'm talking to people about how I think, how I view the world, what my *career* (as opposed to job) goals are, then yes, I tell them I'm a writer.

Because I see writing as my career, and as an ambitious, career-oriented person, writing is thus the lens through which I view the world.  In many ways, the details of my life wouldn't make sense if I didn't let someone know that I'd chosen those paths in order to further my writing career.

2.  My writing is more than a hobby for *practical reasons*

I actually *tried* to keep writing as a hobby, something I did on the side, and for fun.  Yes, many writers-- even booker prize winners!-- are able to work 9-5, keep up an active social life, *and* write to their full potential.  But I can't.

And once I realized I couldn't have all those things at once, I had to re-evaluate my priorities.  For me, writing came out on top.  That doesn't mean I don't pay the bills, and it doesn't mean I abandoned my friends.  It *does* mean that I rearranged my life so that writing is at the center of it-- where (for me, at this point in my life) a career *should* go.  

That meant that I had to move to a cheaper place, even though it meant living in a basement in a new state.  I had to find more flexible work, even though it meant I made less money and got no insurance.  I had to enforce boundaries with my friends and family, knowing they didn't really understand.  

And instead of the immediate gratification of a paycheck or a ton of fun time with my friends, I got to sit alone in my apartment, learning to write by trial and error.

BUT, it was the best decision for me-- the only decision for me.  Since I've decided that writing comes first, I've been happier, more fulfilled, and more *myself* than ever-- even though every practical aspect of my life has gotten tougher.

3.  Writing *can* be fun.  But I don't write *for fun*.

Writing is challenging, involving, rewarding, satisfying.  Creating fascinating, authentic-feeling and cohesive worlds is *incredibly* difficult-- though it can also be exhilarating, fun.  I think some people *are* called to certain jobs-- and not just creative ones.  People are called to be priests, to be engineers, to be parents, to be doctors.  

Being "called" sounds so mythical, but I think it's just about knowing when something is *right.*  It's like finding "the one" in love-- you've got to be open, and you've got to be in the right place at the right time, and you don't get to skip the intros or courtship.  Finding your calling doesn't mean you'll be naturally gifted or that you can skip the work-- but it does mean that you're certain the work is worth it.  

I was lucky-- I found my calling early.  I was unlucky-- it's writing.  

In some ways, rearranging your life around a calling is like rearranging your life around your children-- would you think someone was crazy or strange if they moved to a less comfortable but more child-friendly place, took a less lucrative but more child-friendly job, and limited their social life to what was supportable in light of their child-rearing responsibilities?  Of course not, because that's a totally normal, healthy thing, *regardless* of how the child "turns out."  A parent's priority is their child, and once you know about the child, everything makes sense.  Including the fact that they don't view their child-rearing as a "hobby," and that "fun" and financial rewards aren't the point.  

Without writing, would I be me?  In many ways, to many people, there would be no difference.  But would I be fulfilled?  Definitely not.  No, I wouldn't actually shrivel up and die-- but that's what it would (did!) feel like inside; when I tried to close off the part of myself that needs to write, life felt empty and so did I.

Yes, I struggled for a long time over calling myself a writer, and I don't assume all people need or want to know that tidbit about me.  However, calling myself a writer has nothing to do with whether I've made money at it (some, not much), whether *other* people consider me a writer (who counts?), or how "good" I am at the craft (how good is good enough?  and how can anyone tell?).  

I call myself a writer because it gives my friends and family insight into how I run my life, the choices I make, the needs I have, and how I approach the world.  I call myself a writer because most of the time, that's the shorthand, the label, that fits me best.

Can't get a black-market script to save my life, and am freaked by Susan Boyle's sex life. Guess I'm just naive.

The only actual scripts I can find to base my spec. formatting on are Gawker's badly photo-copied bits and pieces.

Ugh!

Luckily, the formatting looks pretty conventional. The action descriptions seem unusually melodramatic... but over the top is kind of my cup of tea.

Ok, time to stop worrying about dumb things.

CULTURE THOUGHT OF THE DAY (CTotD):
I know this is superficial, but the most shocking thing to me about the Susan Boyle-diamond-in-the-rough thing is: she's forty-seven and she's never been kissed?! HOW?!

I mean, it's not weird that someone in the world has a wonderful voice-- and why shouldn't that person be Susan Boyle, after all? But I thought *everyone* over age fifteen had been kissed at least *once*-- right? right?!

Ok, on to----- UPDATES!!!

RE: GOSSIP GIRL
Apparently nobody else expects Chuck Bass to (try to?) kill himself. I was talking about Gossip Girl with the high schoolers I work with, and when I mentioned how disturbed I was by his drinking, they acted like I was crazy. Not only that-- they didn't even know what I was talking about when I referenced him being drunk. WHAT?! So I went on the Television without Pity forum... and nobody on there seemed freaked, either. Ok(?)

RE: ZOMBIFICATION OF THE NATION
Since my essay went up on the South Wing, I've been getting great feedback. It feels WONDERFUL. I don't give a sh*t if a guy says I'm pretty, I don't give a sh*t if my friends say I'm nice... but boy, will I kill for some positive writing feedback. I've got to work some short-term projects into my schedule, so I get a bit of that necter once in a while.

RE: PRIORITIES AND FOCUS
Even though I want to launch back into my novel, this is SPEC. time, and damnnit, I'm sticking with my word and working *only* on it. It's tough, but I think it's worth it. Ok, so I've been thinking about places to submit my articles, and yes, I'm getting feedback on some novel segmentes tomorrow from my writers' group, and yes, I've also asked for feedback on my query. BUT, in terms of my writing time/work, it's ALL about the spec right now.

P.S.
Do I cuss a lot? Feel like there's a lot of cussing in this post.

oscar wild lay on his deathbed in a drab parisian hotel. his last words were: "either that wallpaper goes, or I do."

The importance of being witty:

Yesterday a friend and I watched the show I'm spec.ing (for fun).  

In an attempt at wit, I commented on everything going on onscreen.  And discovered a bunch of previously overlooked, show-specific insights.  Ie, when a certain character is angry, he responds physically (none of the others do).

The Mystery Science Theater school of television writing, I guess.

But it's fun.  And it works.  And it's a way to obsess over your writing while being social.  

Chicken Soup for a Manic Writer's Soul

A friend of mine told me that he does most of his work before he puts a word on paper.  When he wants an idea, he waits for inspiration.  Next, he works out the idea in his head.  Then, he waits for more inspiration for the actual prose.  I'm WAYYY too much of a control freak for that :)

So while he's been contemplating, I've been churning out material as fast as I could.  Now I've got a few hundred thousand words of crappy to semi-crappy to fairly good material.

The bad thing about that material is: the harder I work, the more I improve, and the more I improve, the more I'm horrified by its glaring, obvious flaws.  

The good thing about that material is: the more horrific those flaws seem, the prouder I am of how much I've since improved, and how much I've learned.

Only now, I've run up against a bit of a wall- I can see something's wrong with my draft, but I'm just not good enough yet to recognize exactly what it is and how to fix it.  So, I've looked at some how-to writing books and (surprisingly?) they've been a HUGE help!

When I was having a terrible time getting started, books like Stephen King's On Writing, Carolyn See's Making a Literary Life, and Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird inspired me to bite the bullet.

  

Now that my state of mind is pretty good, but the nuts and bolts of my writing could use some work, I've been checking out books like Writing the Blockbuster Novel by Albert Zuckerman (which was VERY helpful), How to Write a Damn Good Mystery by James N. Frey.

These books are technical guides at heart, with concrete suggestions for how to fix concrete problems (like lax plotting or a claustrophobic focus, etc).  I find these books MUCH more helpful than the kind that talk about making writing "sing" and "come to life."

Whenever those phrases pop up- which they do a lot, both among writers and in books about writing- I shut down.  What the hell do those things MEAN, anyway?