"Roundheads and Ramblings"
Heavens! It's the last week in July, and as I look at my desk calendar, I'm seeing that I'm already overbooked for August. What lies ahead? Here's a partial list:
1. Coming up first -- our annual Auction and Dinner for Mid-South Lions
Sight and Hearing Service on August 8. I'm procrastinating this morning
on this one. I have a buffet filled with items for our silent auction,
which (somehow) have to be transported downtown to our main office. The
biggest problem is (that) a couple of them are too big and/or too heavy
for me to carry. Getting them from the dining room to my car involves
going through a couple of doors, which I can't open or close while
carrying said objects, and which can't be left open because the indoor
Katzenhaus Kats will make a break for outside and cause even more
problems. And then cramming them into my (little )2-door coupe with its
tiny trunk - - - ummm. Waiting for a guardian angel to show himself!
2. I'm already editing the preliminary draft of "Yankee Reconstructed," which involves round after round of reading and searching for careless errors. i have a bad habit of using meaningless words as transitions and fillers. So I have to search through the pages, looking for these gremlins: that, all of, absolutely, really, very, always, never, just, maybe, perhaps, stuff, things, quite, and got. I do them one at a time and usually find I can (just) do without them. It's a good way to tighten the prose, but also tedious and time-consuming. Deadline? I've promised the complete manuscript to my editor by the end of August.
3. I'm a judge for a (rather) large book contest -- a responsibility I take seriously because i know how important the results can be for new writers. I have six books sitting here, all waiting to be read and evaluated by August 24. I'm reading the first one in those periods when I can't bear looking at my own writing any more. I'm grateful (that) several on the list are short and quick reads. But there's also the 530-page one that weighs four pounds in paperback! (Just) holding it up will be a problem for my arthritic thumbs!
4. I'm working on a proposal for publishing a local history book for a nearby county museum. It would be lovely for Katzenhaus Books to add it to our catalog, but many unidentified minefields lie ahead.
5. Finally, rolling around (in the back of) my mind (and late at night) are ideas for the second edition of "The Second Mouse Gets the Cheese." Self-publishing has changed drastically in (the past) five years, and a rewrite is (absolutely) necessary. The project in #4 above has suggested (that) the first step in that process needs to be a rigorous self-examination. So in the coming days, I plan to offer a series of questions directed at those who are still trying to answer the big question: How Do I Publish This Book?
As usual, I want to start with an explanation of where my ideas came from. Back in the summer of 2011, I realized that I wasn't doing any novel
writing. I didn't have writer's block, as such, because I could whip out a blog
post without trouble. It was the new
book that was giving me trouble. I
knew there was something wrong with it, but I couldn't figure out what it was.
The story of the
Gideonites and the Port Royal Experiment had no lack of colorful characters.
It's full of fascinating people.
It had all kinds of exotic scenery—swamps, pluff mud, tropical
vegetation, glorious sunrises, sandy ocean beaches. It had drama—a background of America's Civil War, heroic
acts of bravery, enormous pain and suffering, and a life-changing struggle for
freedom. Why, then, couldn't I make any progress with the book? The story was simply
too big to handle.
But, oh, how hard it was to cut out all those great tidbits. I had what amounted to half a book
already written — some 50,000 words I had created during the past year's National
Novel Writing Month. The chapters
were just sitting there, waiting, but I couldn't tell where they were going
next. A couple of weeks later, I
started cutting hunks out of those chapters. The remaining 35,000 words were more coherent, but the direction was
Eventually, of course,
I recognized my own errors. I was
writing like a historian. Now,
there's nothing wrong with being a historian. It's what I am by training and experience. I want to know exactly what happened,
why it happened, who all was involved, when and where it happened (all the
usual journalist's questions), as well as what were the underlying causes and
results. All legitimate questions.
All important. All calling for more research. And nothing, NOTHING, that has to do with the nature of a
The light clicked on
first while I was discussing creating a press release. "Summarize your
plot in a single
sentence. Then expand it to two sentences. Make the reader want to know
what's going to happen." I couldn't do it—because I didn't
really have a plot. I was just
describing events, hoping that they would magically arrange themselves
acceptable story. So far, they weren't showing any signs of being able
that on their own. So I had 35,000
words, but they weren't the beginning of a novel.
For a novel, I had to
build a plot, one with a clear beginning, a middle, and an end. It needed a theme, a message, a reason
for its existence. It needed one
main character—someone with back story, a character with a likeable personality
but a few inner quirks, a character with whom the reader could identify. That character needed a goal that was
important not only to her but to the reader, and she needed an adversary that
stood in the way of reaching that goal. The story needed tension, a crisis (or
two or three), and a resolution that would be not necessarily happy but
reasonable in the light of all that went before.
The solution was
obvious but too drastic to contemplate.
Instead of just trashing the project, I stepped away from it for a while
and sought my own guru—someone who could tell me what to do to salvage the idea.
I've just finished reading a wonderful book: Story Engineering by Larry Brooks.* He offers a step by step guide for building the underlying
structure of a novel. As I read, I
kept a notepad at hand, where I scratched out ideas of how I could take my
historical knowledge and mold it into a workable plot outline. And suddenly my story did arrange
itself. Once I had the main structural elements in place, the people, the
places, and the events made sense.
The concept of the book?
Rejuvenated! The 35,000 words? I removed over half of them from the manuscript, but they were not forgotten. I couldn't bear to throw them out. And eventually they became the basis for my book of short stories, "Left by the Side of the Road."
Anybody else ready for Spring? Yeah, yeah, I hear all you folks snowed in again in the northeast, and I'm sure you don't want to hear a lament from Memphis, where it just keeps raining. But I'm feeling particularly gloomy, so you'll just have to bear with me for a bit.
I always have difficulty with this time of year. In 2000, our only son died of cancer at the end of February, just 10 days short of his 29th birthday. Most of the time we have learned to cope, but late February and early March are days we just "get through," no matter how busy we keep ourselves. And this year, what with stubborn politicians, tornadoes, blizzards, floods and drought, a pope who quit and a cardinal admitting his indiscretions, Apple stocks plummeting for no good reason, and all the other worldwide crises, I've had more than my usual trouble finding bright spots.
Our 18-year-old cat wanders the house wailing in a particularly shrill way, probably because he's going deaf and can't hear himself if he just meows. Our homeowners' association just issued a "new plan" to deal with potential criminal activity in the neighborhood; it involves leaving a note in a sealed envelop in a box outside the clubhouse door --which seems to me to be a particularly ineffective (and potentially dangerous) method of reporting a prowler! I'm trying to help with the printed program for a dinner on Thursday night, but everyone involved keeps making last-minute changes. I've had two more this morning. I'm also trying to get ready to run a two-day meeting on Friday and Saturday, while people are still fussing about the price of a hotel hamburger lunch. The CEO of our non-profit wants his performance eval done this week but so far has failed to get the correct form to me. The household pest treatment guy just did his quarterly thing and left me a bill without the amount filled in. Do you think I get to choose the price? A commenter on this blog took me to task for failing to do research, all the while revealing that s/he had no experience with the issue s/he was arguing about.
And so my week goes. Can it really only be Tuesday morning? Why are the juncos still hanging around? I'm ready for robins and bluebirds. Our temperature just dropped within the hour from 61 degrees to 39 degrees and the wind is now whipping around the house. Aren't our southern trees supposed to be budding out by now, and shouldn't there be daffodils and tulips?
Daylight Savings Time starts this coming Sunday, so the longer days may help. Maybe the world will come to its senses next week? Or the week after, when we head for Hilton Head for a week of relaxation (except for two book talks and signings)? I definitely need a Spring Break!
For just over one hundred years, two wonderful pink-marble lions have guarded the main entrance of the New York Public Library. They've been unusually popular. From the moment they were erected in 1911, people gave them names and decorated them with flowers, baseball caps, and other symbols of whatever was going on in New York at the time. In the 1930s, Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia officially named them Patience and
Fortitude, for the qualities he felt New Yorkers would need to survive
the economic depression.
New York did survive the Great Depression, so evidently the lions did their job. Patience still guards the south side of the Library's steps and
Fortitude sits unwaveringly to the north.
I've always loved them, as you might expect. I'm a cat person and a member of Lions International, so of course I love them. . .
But not just because they're cats, and not because I'm worried about the economy. As a writer, I see them as symbols of the author's craft. And what better place could there be for them than in front of the country's greatest library?
If you are a writer, you need PATIENCE:
- when you are waiting for your own personal muse to find the answer to a vexing writing problem.
- when it feels like the end is completely out of sight.
- when your friends don't understand what you do as a writer.
- when your editor has been working on your manuscript for weeks.
- when your graphic designer can't find the image you need for your cover.
- when you have sent off a query letter to an agent or publisher.
- when an agent says, "We'll have better luck finding a publisher in the fall."
- when that agent or publisher says, "Our evaluation may take several months."
- when you are told that your book is in a queue because the press is overloaded.
- when you're waiting to see the finished product.
- when it takes weeks for the book to appear on bookshelves or online catalogs.
- when sales are sluggish or non-existent.
- when you are waiting for that first big review.
- when you've entered a book contest.
- when the royalty check is overdue.
And if you are a writer, you need FORTITUDE (defined as courage in the face of adversity)
- when you discover that there are already five other books with the exact title you have chosen for your work.
- when you learn that an internationally known author has just published a book on your exact subject.
- when someone points out a major error that will require a re-write of several chapters.
- when you have almost enough rejection letters from agents or publishers to redecorate your office.
- when your editor quits and her replacement hates everything she liked.
- when your publisher goes out of business.
- when the book finally arrives and you find a huge typo on the cover.
- when your local bookstore displays your new book in a dark corner, on a bottom shelf, and behind a potted plant.
- when you arrive for your first book-signing and no one comes.
- when people do come to your book talk but want to argue with what you've said.
- when a reviewer returns your book unopened, saying that it sounds boring and uninteresting.
- when your first review appears and it is viciously bad.
- when you meet your first heckler or internet troll.
- when people who have read your book tell you how much they liked it but refuse to write a review.
- when Amazon threatens to ban you for a violation of their terms that was not your fault.
So, thank you, New York Library Lions, for standing guard over some of our most precious creations and for reminding us of the qualities that will help us survive the publishing games.