The Brave Little Mushroom

I went for a nice hike the other day in a nearby state park and came across this little guy: 

Now, you can't really tell from that picture because I was too chicken to get close to the edge, but this mushroom is in a very precarious position. It's growing on a small outcropping of tree roots and moss, hovering over a drop of probably 100 feet or more. As a matter of fact, here's what a view of the mushroom's home looks like from within the cave it grows on:

That should give you an idea of why I was so uncomfortable trying to get a good picture of the mushroom. I'm terrified of heights to begin with, but add to that its questionable perch and the slippery leaves surrounding it and there's a snowball's chance in hell.

Regardless, I kept thinking about that little mushroom all through the rest of my hike. I guess, in a way, I somehow felt like this fungus was my kindred (says a lot about me, huh?) But I also found it downright inspiring. Here was a living thing, taking a risk, trusting its small tubular body to keep it from falling over as it strained to see over the edge.

We take a lot of chances as writers. We take a chance on an idea, or maybe a character. We take a chance in starting something that will be incredibly hard to finish. We take a chance in putting a metric ton of ourselves into something that consumes us. We take a chance in sending this piece of ourselves out into the world to be judged, critiqued, rejected, and - hopefully - accepted.

Right now I am in the process of submitting to agents. My little mushroom friend and I are both sticking our necks out, taking a risk, hoping that the risk will pay off and we'll get a little slice of sunlight.

But you know, it's not so dangerous to lean over the side of a mountain if you know you have strong roots. If you've worked hard, studied the craft, revised until it's the best it can be, you've got a great foundation that will let you stick your neck out just a little bit more, and maybe, just maybe, you'll feel that sunshine on your face.

I'm a little in love with this metaphor, and I'd love to hear from you about your own mushroom risks and roots. Where are you in the writing process? What's giving you the foundation to take a risk?

(This song by Josh Groban is totally appropriate for this discussion even though it examines it from the angle of letting yourself go and taking the risk of falling in love. So maybe the falling aspect is a bit of a mixed message but whatevs. It's beautiful. Just listen. And if you'd rather go with this metaphor, run with it. I'm listening.)

--Laura

Swami Laura and the Tan Hand Band

Now that Erin had a better teacup pattern, with eyes and a face for one thing, it was time to really fix her teacup situation.  Or try.  Both she and Laura knew it.  But still, it was hard to know where to go from here.  The two women just looked at each other.

"Okay.  I'll take your kids over to your mom's place, Erin.  You can't take care of them in this state. It's too much to ask of a teacup.  And you...   you...  gather up those papers on the floor.  Put them back in order and when I get back we'll figure out what needs to be done."   

It might have made more sense to reprint the entire 300 page document but it did give her something to do so Erin started to organize the pages.  1... 234... 37...  5...  95...

"Well, well.  Aren't you looking the worse for wear."

It was a baritone voice.  Oh great, now I'm hearing things, thought Erin.  She ignored it and bent forward to pick up another stack of papers.  54... 55...  3...  27... 28... 29...  264... 

"Don't insult her, Randolph.  She's doing the best she can.  It just takes time."  Again it was a baritone voice from behind her. 

As if I need another thing to deal with.  Erin straightened up.

"Well, if she didn't write me like some stiff cliche.  I mean...  the evil twin... give me a freakin' break."

"What, Randolph, you don't like sharing a face with me?"

"Actually, Raymond, I consider your blue black, shoulder length hair stunning, darling.  Just stunning."  And with that Erin could wait no longer and turned around.

There they were. Two men.  Two men without shirts on.  Two identical men.  In her bedroom. Handsome. Without shirts on.  She fell on her ass and stared up idiotically from her teacup cat eyes.  Two men without shirts on should not be in her bedroom.

"Yep, the maker is an idiot."  Said the one on the right.

The one on her left came  over and helped her back onto her feet.  "It's okay, Erin, you are going to figure this all out.  It's not that you can't, honey. It's not.  You will work hard and it will come with time.  Don't give it up.  This is what you want, so make it happen!"

"Always such a damn optimist. Don't lie to her, Raymond. Most people don't ever make it in publishing.  Heck, most of them don't even finish a book."

"Don't listen to him, Erin.  You've learned so much already.  Your writing... well the style is starting to come together, still it might need some work, but it's coming.  And you've fixed a lot of things.  Those tricky little author intruding words that distance the reader.   The talking heads thing.  How about your tendency to overuse suddenly, quickly and instantly?  Right?  It's progress.  Progress."


"Yeah, but who really cares about any of it, Erin?  Who really cares..." Randolph looked at her with disdain.

"Hiyaaaah!"  Erin fell back down again. "Shut Up!"  It was Laura.  She'd returned and she'd smacked Randolph across the face.

Erin put her hand on the rim of her cup and rubbed it like she had a headache.  "Honestly, Laura, this is all too much for one teacup to handle."

"Excellent, girlfirend!"

"What?" Erin asked.

"Well for one thing you are talking now!  It's a sign maybe you are starting to find your writer's voice after all.  Look, I brought you a present. Read it and we'll talk."  She plopped Finding Your Writer's Voice down in Erin's lap. 

"Okay...  I know you've been after me to read this all year."  Erin nodded at the book, knowing she was going to have to do it. 

"And as for you two, well Raymond, you can stay, but Randolph, put a muzzle on it or I'm kicking you right out the window!" 

"You know them?"  Erin asked.

"Well, sure, Erin. They're in my band.  Let's show her guys."  And Laura started to sing in her disney princess voice as Raymond played guitar and Randolph beat the drums.  "We're Swami Laura and the Tan Hand Band.  Haven't you been wondering what I've been up to on Friday and Saturday nights?  We're playing the club circuit!"

Well, that made sense.  After all, the two men did have awfully tan hands...

Waiting - Laura's 10th Circle of Hell

I finished PERFECT 10 in June, just a few precious days after summer vacation started.

Finishing a book always kind of sneaks up on me. I type the last line and think, "Oh my god. That was it. That was the end." (Yes, I type the last line last. I have Methods. I do not stray from those Methods. But more on that shortly.)

Then I sit there in shock for about an hour and message Erin or my friend and beta, Ann, on Skype and say, "I think I'm finished. Will you read it and tell me if I'm finished?"

(And I have to ask because even though I know when the book should end, there's always so much more in my head that I want to say.)

It takes a few days for the shock of finishing to wear off, and then I'm ready to work. I comb the manuscript once myself for spelling and grammar, and Ann does a round for me too. Then the hard part begins. Massive revisions. Tightening the writing, strengthening the characters, heightening the emotions. Sometimes it's as simple as removing all those pesky adverbs. Sometimes it's as difficult as merging scenes or completely rewriting. With PERFECT 10 I actually wrote out a giant chart, labeling each scene in each chapter. Then I defended it. If the scene wasn't necessary or it had the same purpose as another scene in the book, I dealt with it.

I moved quickly on this one because LeakyCon was coming up in July. Not that I didn't do a thorough job, I just worked my ass off. I didn't want to have something unpolished if I made connections with the agents there.

And I feel I did. So I'm sending queries out and waiting. You know, there are so many difficult things about writing. The actual writing itself, the sting of criticism, the fear of rejection.

But I think probably the most immediate thing for me is the waiting. It's all too easy to sink into that cliched pit of despair. (Cliches exist for a reason, and I defend my right to use them, albeit sparingly.) Every day you don't hear a response becomes another reason to suspect that the manuscript, the idea, the writing, etc etc etc just isn't good enough.

I'm at a point with my writing where I feel genuinely confident with it. I trust my voice, I trust my pacing, I trust that the characters in my head and the plots they've given me are rich and complete. I take criticism in stride now. But criticism is concrete. Unanswered responses are not concrete, and they tend to bring out your worst fears.

One of my dream agents, Sarah LaPolla, tweeted a link the other day, and just in the nick of time for me, so I thought I'd share. It's a blog by one of her clients, Michelle, and it gives you a few reminders to take to heart during this limbo period. It's a most excellent blog, and I can't wait to see Michelle's work on the shelves. (I'm especially looking forward to her book about Vincent Van Gogh, which she hasn't even started yet!) Do yourself a favor and read this post, and stick around for a while. She's got lovely thoughts on writing:

The Patience of Writing 






*

Catch Up

What did the fast tomato say to the slow tomato?

KETCHUP.

Let's play.

In the past month since we last posted anything, things have been kind of nuts around here. We're talking majorly ass over teacup.

First and foremost, Erin and I did a presentation at LeakyCon2011 called "Just Keep Swimming." It was a motivational talk for authors who are suffering from I-suck-itis. It went really well, and the participants seemed to really enjoy sharing their experiences with each other. We have tons of info leftover from that presentation, so if you couldn't make it to LeakyCon, never fear! We will be sharing that here on our blog as well.

Secondly, Erin was an especially busy bee at the Con. She also did an AMAZING presentation on alchemy in the Harry Potter series. It was riveting, and I'm not just saying that because she's my partner in crime. Glued to my seat, I was. I'm sure if you beg real nice she'll be happy to share info from that as well. She also taught a yoga class every morning, and I got to enjoy that class when I wasn't suffering from con fatigue.

As a result of Erin's popularity, she sold a lot of copies of her book, THE DARK WHISPERS, and also a book of Harry Potter essays, HARRY POTTER FOR NERDS, which contains her fabulous essay as well. And I bet that even if you're not nice but still have some cash, Erin would be more than happy to supply you with a copy of either. *grins*

As for me, your resident ex-Slytherin-slash-Hufflepuff-in-training, I finished my book. I'm in the revision process at the moment (read: otherwise known as the "tear your hear out and wail" process), which is just the constant state of things and will be for a while. And yeah, I may or may not be sending out a few queries. Cross your fingers for me.

So...that's what's new with us.

What's new with YOU?

Erin Gets Her Swerve On!

Deep bow and namaste to you: Anne N. Kenney. (Here's a link to Anne's blog: http://writersquandary.blogspot.com/)  for wining our contest to pick Erin a new cup.  The cup design of a tiger was well selected.  Erin has been told that she has the totem animal of the large cat before and certainly loves the ferocity of such an image.  For that choice, we have honored our contestant with the prizes even though she did not have any competition.  :)


And on this note, the exercise of Erin's cup pattern was not random, pointless fun - though that in itself would be worthy activity for the over stressed writers out there.  Instead it was meant to represent the power of a totem or self image.  We are quick to list things that can help our writing get better and that's good, we should work on our skills.  But improving our own self esteem is certainly going to make all our endeavors more successful.  So go on a spirit quest through the mists of your own work - find out from your own work what animal just won't leave you alone or what place you can't escape.  Do you often write of the forest or the river?  Do you return again and again to the lion in your stories?  Do eagles fly near the sun or do fish spin in the bowl on the desk of your antagonist?  What can't your subconscious avoid creating over and over again?  If you find those repeating themes, maybe you've found your totem.

Now that Erin can get her swerve on, let us continue her story....   

***

"Bzdbldelbluk," Erin burbled in response to Laura's curse. 

"Hmm," Laura said, stalling while she thought of something to say.  "Well, a burble of nonsense is an improvement."  She tried to sound encouraging as she reached down and took the shoe from Erin's hand.  She placed it on the bed and then used her whole arms and chest to roll Erin onto her side and then stand her up on her feet.  Puffing from the effort, she said, "There... you are...  At least... you are standing... up now."

"Grglethrstbif" Erin managed.

"Here lets take a look at you in the mirror,"  Laura guided Erin's extremely top heavy body over to the full length mirror and  the two of them looked sadly into the reflection. "I'd like to pretend I've seen this before but...  I haven't. 

"And, my GOD, that pattern is just...  well, you need something better than  that.   Those little roses are... something my grandma would just adore.   So... I have an idea and I know it will work."  Laura faked confidence so Erin could calm down.  

Erin tried to nod her cup rim encouragingly back at Laura but it destabalized her so much she fell on her base again and Laura had to stand her back up.  "Careful now, Erin, it looks like you are very top heavy."  

"Rlllrutingrrro!" Erin growled.

"Right.  Moving along then.  Here's what you need to do.  Close your eyes.  You can close your eyes can't you? Ah, good, you can.  Okay, so, close your eyes and think back to what you were writing last night.  You might also ask yourself the following questions about your story:

• What has brought my main character to this place in her/his journey, this moment in her/his life?
• Whose life has she / he been living?
• Does my main character feel like things in his/her life are out of sink?  If so, how?"  

Laura stood next to Erin holding her hand for what seemed like a very long time. She did not dare walk away and risk Erin falling down again.  The room was so quiet that the sound of Scooby Doo playing from the family room TV seemed overly loud: 

"You know we got a mystery to solve
So Scooby Doo get ready for your act
Don't hold back
'Cause Scooby Doo when you come thru
You're gonna have your self a scooby snack
That's a fact"

Finally Erin squeezed Laura's hand. Laura said, "What you need to do is search for an element of power from your story.  Something, anything, that makes you feel safe.  And then when you find that, focus on it fully.  Every detail in perfect, precise clarity.  As though you had it right in front of you."

Again, they stood there in silence.  Laura shifted on her feed uncomfortably and worried Erin's legs had to be getting tired from holding up her heavy cup.

It took so long that the next program started downstairs.  Laura could here the song again:

"I will travel across the land
Searching far and wide
Each Pokemon to understand
The power that's inside"

Then ever so slowly Laura noticed Erin's cup was changing right in front of her eyes.  Where silly pink roses used to be, faded, barely visible imprints remained and giant blue eyes became visible.  The fading and the dawning of a new image continued until finally the roses were completely gone and Laura could see clearly what Erin had chosen.

 "Okay, Erin, you can open your eyes now."

All About Your WIP, or... Erin and Laura Are Nosy

Watching the Ass Over Teacup Twitter feed is a thing of beauty. And wonder. And utter madness. The tweets fly by without a prayer of reading them all. There are just SO. MANY. WRITERS.

And that's just a tiny cross-section. For every writer we follow, there have to be thousands that we don't or heck, don't even know what Twitter is. Which makes me so curious...

What do you people DO? I mean, what are you working on? What gets your muse all a-flutter? What are your goals? That's right, we're very curious about you.

Why? you might ask. Because it's part of our super cute, inquisitive nature.

Also, because we care. Because every writer wants to be asked from time to time, "Hey, how's it going?" and wants someone to want to know what they're up to.

That and we're just really freaking nosy.

I mean, come on. We've got a bajillion writers on the other end of this Twitter thingy and we don't even know what you're up to. We're dying of curiosity here!

So if you would, copy and paste these few questions into a comment and let us (and the rest of our readers) know what's happening.

1. Who's your audience?
2. What's your genre?
3. Who's your main character? Tell us a bit about him/her.
4. Are you writing in 1st or 3rd person? (No, 2nd is not an option). Past or present tense? (No, future is not an option.)
5. Do you have an agent? 
6. What stage are you in right now with your work? Writing/editing/querying/submission?
7. How's that going for you?
8. Anything else you'd like everyone to know about your WIP? 

Laura's Writing Meme

For shits and giggles, let's all do this, okay? Comment back or link us back to your own blog if you do it!


What’s the last thing you wrote?

I wrote about 600 words yesterday of PERFECT 10. Not exactly a record, but time was fleeting.

Was it any good?
I kind of love it. It’s probably one of those darlings I need to kill, but it’s a good discussion between Sam and his English teacher about his drive to write. Really hits home for me.

What’s the first thing you ever wrote that you still have?
In a notebook somewhere in my parents’ house is a story about animals that I wrote probably in 4^th grade. It was totally a rip off of James Howe’s Bunnicula series, but I was really proud of it then. I still have poetry and short stories from high school as well.

Write poetry?
I’ve written one poem in the last 10 years. Seriously.

Angsty poetry?
I guess my one wasn’t very angsty, so no.

Favorite genre of writing?
Young adult. I feel it’s my home. To be more specific, romance and issue-driven YA.

Most fun character you ever wrote?
Probably Brad King from REFUGE. He had a wit, sass, and intelligence that were just the perfect storm. Travis from PERFRECT 10 ranks up there too. (And if we’re going to go with fanfiction answers, Brad from any of my Adam Lambert fics, Draco Malfoy, and a rocker named Noah Groban. *smiles*)

Most annoying character you ever wrote?
Annoying? Hmmn. Josh Turner, the bully from REFUGE, was a whole lot more than annoying, so he doesn’t count. I would almost say any of the women from my Compass Rose fantasy trilogy, save for Bilhah. As much as I love Veronica, she can be a real brat.

Best plot you’ve ever created?
My Compass Rose trilogy, definitely. I loved being able to build that universe and exorcise all my religious angst while weaving one of the most complicated plots I’ve ever dreamed up. (Call the Darkness Light wins for fanfic).

Coolest plot twist you’ve ever created?
Well, I can’t tell you, that’d be cheating. But the end of the CR Trilogy ranks. I don’t particularly think I’m good at plot twists because I feel like everything I write can only end one way.

How often do you get writer’s block?
I don’t believe in writer’s block. I get stuck, not blocked, meaning that it's not that I CAN'T write, it's that I don't know what to write. But I can always write SOMETHING.

How do you fix it?
I spend time with the characters in my head and really listen. Sometimes, if it’s just an issue of not knowing what to write next, I plan and try to untangle my plot.

Write fan fiction?
Yup. See above.

Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
Yep. I think it’s my bread and butter.

Do you type or write by hand?
Type. I plan by writing by hand, though.

Do you save everything you write?
Fiction yes, blogs no.

Do you ever go back to an old idea long after you abandoned it?
Yes, but not often. It’s much more likely that I reuse an idea that didn’t quite fit something else. Or something I just thought was so great it would work again. (For example, Travis’ band in PERFECT 10 shares a name with Noah Groban’s band in a fanfic. It was just a cool name!)  

What’s your favorite thing that you’ve written?
The scene in FROM EAST TO WEST where Vincent is killed. The image of all of the magicians locked in the temple while the cardinal unleashes mustard gas on them is horrifying, and Vincent’s goodbye to Cain kills me, even now. When I finished writing it I just knew it would be something that would stick with the reader long after they read it.

What’s everyone else’s favorite thing that you’ve written?
Those that have read them would say my fanfics, That Good Night and Call the Darkness Light. (Or even Through the Night, from the old Grobanite fandom). But those who have read my original works would agree with my answer above, or say the dinner scene in REFUGE.

What’s your favorite setting for your characters?
Depends on the characters. My modern boys seem to love Athens, Ohio, a fun little college town. My fantasy characters tend to go for manors and sprawling estates. Some even prefer Heaven. *winks*

What’s one genre you have never written, and probably never will?
Horror. I don’t think anything I’m capable of could terrify or scare.

How many writing projects are you working on right now?
Just one. I abandoned pretty much everything to work on PERFECT 10. Sam’s too loud in my head anyways. He won’t let me write anything else.

Do you want to write for a living?
Absolutely.

Have you ever written something for a magazine or newspaper?
Not since I was a child.

Have you ever won an award for your writing?
LOL, not unless you count Mrs. Cryder giving me the best story award in second grade!

Ever written something in script or play format?
No. I don’t think like that, and I can’t make myself.

What are your five favorite words?
Serendipitous. Sanguine. Languid. Possibility. Cacophony.

What character that you’ve written most resembles yourself?
Bilhah in FROM EAST TO WEST. I’d like to resemble Meg Oliver in PERFECT 10 more, but I can only admire from an envious distance.

Where do you get ideas for your other characters?
Real people, or people I’d like to meet.

Do you ever write based on your dreams?
Yeah. I wrote about a glittery vampire in a flower-filled meadow and… Oh, wait. No. That wasn’t me.

My dreams are not the best for writing, but right before I fall asleep is when I “write” the best.

Do you favor happy endings, sad endings, or cliff-hangers?
None of the above. I prefer satisfying endings, even if that means a sad one.

Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
I’m more concerned with just trying to keep up with my characters. But spelling and grammar know-how kicks in while I run after them.

Does music help you write?
I don’t use music with words much when I write. I write a lot to silence or to white noise from an iPhone app I have. That said, all of the Compass Rose Trilogy and REFUGE were written to Henryk Gorecki’s 3^rd Symphony, the Dawn Upshaw recording.

Quote something you’ve written. The first thing to pop into your mind.
This is one of my favorite lines in PERFECT 10, and my main reason for including it here besides loving it is just that the scene will not survive the first round of edits:

My parents were scholars, both professors at the university in the center of town. Liberal in politics and atheist in belief. I, therefore, was liberal and atheist. But I’d heard about sin from a few of my Christian friends at school and my brain had quickly filed it away with other religious words like “karma” and “salvation” and “inner peace”, right under the broader category of “bullshit.”