Adieu, Miss Snark

I can't believe it. Miss Snark is closing her blog. I will miss her. I don't know whether she knows it, oh, I'm sure she does, but I not only read her web page, but followed links from her page to blogs of many other writers. She was doing more than just supplying me with snarkly advise. Closing down her blog will be a loss to writers.

Checking In

Just because I haven't been posting for a few days doesn't mean I'm not working on my writing. Esta and I went to a book signing and reading last week at the All About Kids bookstore in Seattle. The list of local writers and illustrators in attendance was amazing.

I picked up a copy of Janet Lee Carey's book, Dragon's Keep, along with a handful of buttons for the web site, Readergirlz, she and other local writers have created for teen girls to have an online reading community.

Also in attendance was Katherine Kirkpatrick, who wrote The Snow Baby, The Arctic Childhood of Admiral Robert E. Peary's Daring Daughter. I met Kirkpatrick at the Whidbey Island Writers' Conference a few years ago. We sat together at the evening reception and chatted for a few minutes. She stood out from the crowd of writers in attendance because she was the only one among them who was able to carry on a conversation on a topic other than herself.

Kirkpatrick has authored several books, which are listed on her web site at http://www.katherinekirkpatrick.com/index.html. Snow Baby looks to be her best work yet. She presented Snow Baby to us with the sense of wonder she must have had as she uncovered each sparkling detail.

No Prudes Allowed

Okay...I just started reading The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron, and I'm having a great time. Such a well-deserved recipient of the Newbery, the book is a fun read. I checked it out from the library, though, not because it won the Newbery, but because of the controversy surrounding the first page. I'll admit it. I'm a sucker for a hen fight.

On the first page of this book, written to the middle-school category (ages 11 - 14), an unfortunate dog named Roy is bitten on the scrotum by a snake. The presence of the word, scrotum, has twisted panties across the nation and caused an enormous stir.

And we wonder why Europeans laugh at us. What kind of a person would object to such a thing? Are there really such puritanical hypocrites who think that children's vocabularies should be censored to this degree? Scrotums exist. They happen, on dogs and humans.

Book Reviews on Web Page

I finally updated my web page. Yeah, I have a blog and a web page. So, what? But, you raise a good question. Why do I have a blog? And why do I have a web page?

I sort of envision this blog as a place to post information on the craft of writing, sort of a record of a journey. When my first novel is published, this blog will mark the milestones of the journey, for me more than anyone else. I've seen how blogs are used well as a networking tool. Blogs don't work in that regard until after a certain tipping point in one's career, a place where I have yet to arrive.

Likewise, the web page. Vanity, more than anything else, caused me to buy nancycorbett.com. Just as vanity caused me to do a search for hits on my name. I've had several short pieces and personal essays published on line, and I wanted to see what would come up. To my surprise, there are several nancy corbetts out there who return on a google search. There's a New York attorney, a university professor, and a receptionist at a small company who share my name.

The web site, nancycorbett.com, was acquired for a mere $9.95 and is a place for me to put stuff. I have some slide shows of hikes John and I have taken here in the Pacific Northwest. And I have started a series of book reviews. The books I am reading in 2007 will all appear under various categories. It's fun more than anything else. And I'm not freaking out if I don't put every ounce of my strength into it. When it ceases to be fun, I won't do it anymore.

I have a hosting company that's run by a bunch of kids and they do an okay job of keeping everything up and running. Plus, they run on Linux, and they let me create my own shell accounts so that I can do things from a command line, plus, they run MySQL, plus I can do everything I need to do without bothering them, plus they're cheap. Dreamhost also maintains my anonymity when it comes to my domain ownership. So, if you run a whois on me, you can't find my home address, phone number and bra size. Of course, on my business web page for SoftCopy, I do give my email address and phone number, but not my bra size.

Anyway, I finally got around to updating the personal web page and added the latest book review on The Thirteenth Tale. Boy! What a great debut novel! Wish I could have said something to do it justice.

Getting Into It

I had a particularly satisfying day yesterday, working on my new novel. I've been priming myself for it, noticing I'm afraid to commit. Starting a new novel is like asking someone to go steady with me for a year or so. My head whispers, "what if you can't get this one published either?" Then, "What if this is the one that makes it and GIO stays in the drawer? Keep going." "What if you can't finish it?" "What if your critique group doesn't like it?"

It's endless, really.

Bottom line is that when I write, I'm happy. I love getting into what I call The Zone. I haven't done that, really, since I went through the last round of strenuous edits on GIO.

So, yesterday, I was meeting a friend in Seattle for lunch but had another appointment in Bellevue earlier in the day, so I had some hours to kill. I went to the International District (I don't know why they don't just call it the Asian District) and bought a cute, pink notebook to write in. Blank pages. Pink is not my favorite color, but it seemed somehow cheerful. The pink notebook looked like it wanted to be filled.

On Main and 6ths is an old place called the Panama Hotel. It has the most wonderful tea and espresso area with WiFi, comfortable tables and chairs, pictures of Seattle when it was a baby and beautiful, long-stemmed tulips and calla lillies in vases all around. It also has my favorite bathroom, which may be TMI, but there it is. It's a clean, well-lighted place.

I ordered a pot of Earl Grey with lavendar tea and wrote for nearly three hours without looking up. It's all in there, in me, the whole book. Oh, I know there are lots of corners I haven't turned, things will happen that will shock and amaze me along the way, but it's already in there.

Maybe all types of artists understand this, but I know writers especially understand when Michelangelo said that the form was already in the marble, he was merely releasing it. That's such an elegant way of saying what I find to be the case with my writing.

So, I'm off! My job is to write and to keep the editor chained up outside in the garage until the first draft is done. It's okay. The editor knows the rules. Chains and duct tape. Let her RIP!

Flashquake Flash Class

So, I'm starting an online course on writing flash fiction tomorrow. I'm excited because three friends from my online writer's critique group will be attending along with me. Marie, the ringleader and heartbeat of our critique group found the class and urged me and a few others to take it.

I've watched her delve into writing flash over the last year, and I've tried it a bit myself. I have a series of flashes which I refer to as the Corporate America series. One of them was published on Salome back in October. And I submitted one to Flashquake and got a note back saying that it was a bit over the top for them. I recently reread that piece and found that it's a bit over the top for me, too.

As with any class, I'm excited and am wondering what I'll learn. I like to give myself over to the process, pay attention to where I feel resistance to it and make an effort to do everything suggested, whether it makes sense to me or not.

I've taken several online courses over the past few years. Some of them have been emmensely helpful and others not so. There are many, many people out there who promote themselves as being qualified to take my money to make me a better writer. Flashquake, though, is known for its integrity as a site dedicated to the art of flash fiction and to publishing an array of talent.

Reading flash fiction, I have found so many writers I admire and have read so many pieces which have taken me into deep waters within a very short space. I like reading flash. It's all over the place in both print and electronic form. When I come across a piece I really like, I do a search for more of their work. There are some talented folks out there writing in this form. They make it look easy, but it's not.

I've seen some debate about the length of a piece of flash. Some say it must be fewer than 1000 words. Many of the publications I've seen ask for under 700 or even 500 words. I've even seen some challenging writers to submit pieces of 100 words or less.

The shortness of these fiction pieces makes them a quick read, sort of like a bag of candy I can dip into and pull out a unique flavor each time. Much fun.

But in the upcoming month, I'm going to try and hone my skills at writing the stuff. We'll see what comes out of my bag.

Books on Writing

Just about every writer of worth, and some of none, have written books on writing. I don't know how many are on my shelf. Every time I go to a writer's conference, I add new ones of the writers I've met at the conferences, especially if they are good workshop leaders or talented teachers. That's what I thought of Nancy Kress when I met her at a conference. She was personable and a good teacher.

As for books on writing, my favorites are two books by Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones and especially Wild Mind. I have bought and given these books away numerous times. I remember having a writer's breakthrough back around 1990 with the help of these books. A couple of weeks ago, I ran across Writing Down the Bones at a conference and snapped it up again. Going through it is like spending time with an old friend who really cares about my writing. I'm using it to help me keep the conference glow going.

Another book on writing I appreciate is On Writing by Stephen King. King is so good at voice, he even has a great one for himself in this book which is part text on how to be a good writer and part memoir. His mix of self-disclosure and tips on writing could not be pulled off by anyone else. The best way to read this book is in audio format, because King reads it himself. His casual tone feels like he's just taken a seat in my livingroom wingback chair and started talking while I pour the tea.

I owe a debt of gratitude to all of the writers who have contributed books on the topic of writing. They keep me going when I lose momentum.

Dry Well

Sometimes, I just can't get it going. No matter how much I want to write, I just become a wall. There are lots of ways to look at it.

I'm working on something right now, and I can't work on it. Every time I approach it, I go blank. Leslie Marmon Silko calls these stillbirths. I could put it on the shelf, like I have tons of other writings that ran out of steam, but this one seems important. The block isn't because there's nothing there, but because there's too much there. I can feel it, like a knot under the skin, wanting to be released.

When I was a student at a community college, there was a creative writing instructor there whom I just despised. I felt that he had no inclination to teach or nurture his students. His primary face was that of arrogance. Anyone who knows me understands that arrogance is an unforgivable sin with me. I just can't stand it. But I can be arrogant with the big boys myself. It's a manifestation of fear. Anyway, this instructor did me a couple of good turns, in spite of his efforts not to. He introduced me to Henry James. Who would I be without James? And he said that thing about getting to the real story. What he said was this:

No one can ever get to the real story. There's always a story underneath the one you're telling that you can't get to.


Be it through fear, self-delusion, denial, we can't get to the real story. Well, I became determined, dedicated to always try to get to the real story, to be unflinching in the face of my fears, to pick at my denials and to look at things once I put them down and try to tickle out the meat.

I don't know if I've succeeded. But I've always tried.

Now, with the short story in question, The Recipe, I can't seem to shake anything loose. It's all too knotted up. Maybe if I took up running. No, I have to lose 35 pounds first. Can't take that much time. Maybe if I stick my head in the river. No. Headache. Maybe if I deprive myself of WoW. Now, we're getting close. How long could I possibly go without playing WoW?

Writers' Groups

Ya always hear that writers' groups, critique groups, are important to developing the writing skills. My critique group is an online group, called Write Stuff Extreme. The group has between fifteen and twenty members, about half of whom are active. Folks post writings of all kinds, short stories, flash, poetry, personal essay, and novels.

The online forum works well and has many advantages.

1. We are free from the constraints of time. Being online, I don't have to wait until Tuesday at 7:00 PM to present something. I can post a chapter or a story whenever I want.
   
2. Participants can critique whenever they choose. The meeting place is open 24/7.
   
3. Critiques trickle in but can be read the the poster at any time.
   
4. The group membership is not limited to people who are in geographic proximity. We have people from all over the US. Some groups are international. Well, we do have a member who is in China, so I guess we ARE an international group.
   
5. We are somewhat anonymous. It's interesting posting work for critique by people I've never met. But something happens when I read a critique delivered by someone in the written form. On one hand, it can create misunderstandings. You can't hear someone's voice, the inflections, nor can you see the body language of the critic. That's a double-edged sword.
   
6. I participate from home or wherever my laptop and I are. I can attend the group in my pajamas (and often do).
   

Over time, we have all gotten to know each other fairly well. And any new arrival will drastically change the dynamic of the group. Being a fairly small group, we have all gotten to know each other's writing and critique styles. New people are introduced through invitation and usually serve to get the air moving around in our small cave.

It's a strange thing to explain to someone who isn't involved in internet community, but I communicate with the people of my critique group almost every day. Most of us exchange something every day. There have been times when I've been disappointed by the critiques I get, usually when it seems like everyone glossed over something I wrote and didn't really say anything useful. Gee, that was good! isn't my idea of a critique. But I've gotten some very strong and helpful things from the group as well. They kept me on course with my novel and ensured that it was completed. I can't ask for anything more than that.

audible.com, i love you!

In addition to always having a book in my hand when I'm not doing things like working on the computer or driving, I always have an audio book going. I have been a subscriber to audible.com for around 3 years, now. And I always get 2 books every month and the New York Times. Right now, I also get a weekly audio version of the New Yorker. Life is rich.

Audio books are great productions these days. There are some unbelievably talented readers, who manage to make every character voice unique. Some books are read by the authors, themselves. Some can pull it off, while others can't. I've learned a lot about ordering audio books.

1. Never get anything that isn't unabridged. Why would I want an abridged version of ANY book? Sheesh!

2. Don't order anything that's not main stream literature. No classics. The recording quality of all the classics I've ever ordered has been terrible 100% of the time. I have to jack the sound up as high as it will go, and it's still hard to hear. I would love to listen to Dante or Virgil or Fitzgerald or Joyce, but no can do in the realm of audio books. I end up wanting to drive my car off the road and into a ditch, which would be overkill.

Some books may even be better in audio version. I read (can you say you read it if you listened to it?) The Devil Wears Prada and The Nannie Diaries in my car. They had me laughing and crying and driving around the block so that I could listen for just a few minutes more. I listened to 8 books on my last road trip. That's when I first heard the books by Sue Monk Kidd. I couldn't put them down...figuratively speaking.

I actually miss commuting because I don't get as much reading done.

Today, I began listening to Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer. I read the book the instant it came out, just as I do with books by all of my beloved living authors. The book is narrated by Barbara, herself. Within the first few minutes, I found my mind wandering.

My mind wasn't wandering because the book didn't have what it took to hold my attention, but because the richness of her language and the closeness with which she holds me to the character's chest sent me to thinking about my own writing. How can I do that? I began thinking about my unfinished short story, The Love Potion. Maybe I should make it 3rd person. Maybe I should go back and put the reader inside the character's, trapped in her time limited body. The whole thing is so expository right now, and I know that this ain't going to fly.

I have a white paper to write, and the customer is justifiably getting antsy. But I really, really need to look at this story. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Internet Trends

Patricia Wood's debut book, Lottery, isn't even out yet, but she's created a buzz that's gotten me to order a copy of it from Amazon nearly 5 months before it comes out. How has she done this? Well, one way is through blogging. I saw an entry on Miss Snark's blog about Lottery, which prompted me to go to Amazon, which led me to Patricia's blog, which...well, you get the picture.

During the SCBWI Conference lunch, I sat at the "YA Why Not" table, where I became the unpopular voice regarding kids and the internet. The general consensus was that the internet is a dark place, populated mostly by drooling pedophiles, and how should we get kids away from it. Eek. My stance was that the internet is a place full of possibilities. We need to make safe places for kids to go, and we can harness the internet to improve our own craft and create a more cohesive community among writers and readers. The three of them looked at me like they wanted me to stuff my sandwich in my mouth to shut me up. What can you expect from people who probably still have dial up...if that?

A group of Puget Sound area women writers have created a great web space for teen girl readers. Readergirlz is a web site moderated by Janet Lee Carey, Lori Ann Grover, Dia Calhoun, and Justina Chen Headley. Their manifesto is all about having serious fun while talking about books. The site delivers all kinds of fun for teen girls. Music, art, videos, and books!

If adults are getting into blogging, imagine where kids are with it. They're always a few steps ahead of us when it comes to technology. A web site such as Readergirlz makes me tingle all over. It's just the kind of thing I like to see. Harnessing technology to create a place for teen girls is so very way cool.

Having worked in the tech field and being a card carrying member of the Anita Borg mailing list, Systers, I am concerned about the challenges women face entering into technical fields. Most of the problems women face in tech fields is so insidious and ambiguous. Yet, if you frequent a women's forum on technology for any length of time, you will find that we face a barrage of prejudice and resistence regarding our presence which we are struggling, ourselves, to address and define. Such a large part of the abuse women endure involves being told that we are over reacting or imagining things, it is not surprising to find that we question, amongst ourselves, the validity of our perceptions. Through the use of blogs, public abuse of women who attain any level of success is prevelant and has received a lot of press lately. The Washington Post published an article today describing all of the facets of this complex issue.

Which brings me back to girls and technology. Women are here to stay in the tech world. We need to stand our ground and not allow intimidation tactics to push us away. Kids are going to find their way through the world, with or without our guidance, and the internet is going to be a part of that path. Girls need to have a place on that path where they don't have to fight just to be there. We writers can position ourselves along that path and make their journey richer.

Writing is Dangerous

So, what DID I take away with me from the Puget Sound Area's SCBWI conference yesterday? A stack of books, a skosh of motivation and a few good pointers on where to focus my energy.

Justina Chen Headley led a workshop on finding the heart in your story. The workshop was a display of her openness and commitment to baring her own vulnerabilities to tell the story that needs to be told. She spoke of having the courage to get down on paper the real heart of the matters that brought us to the page in the first place. It brought me back to a place I'd been a few months ago. I need to be reminded that writing is dangerous.

About six months ago, I watched the documentary on Bukowski, and the main thing I got from it was the concept of writing being dangerous. According to Bukowski, if a piece of writing isn't dangerous, it's worthless. This prompted me to take take this to my online writer's group and post a challenge that we all write something decidedly dangerous. Some great stuff came from that exercise.

I once had a creative writing teacher in community college who contended that the best stories, the real stories, never get down on paper because we can't get there. I remember making a promise to myself that I would not flinch from writing the real story.

How could I forget, again, about my promise, about Bukowski, about danger? I owe a debt of gratitude to Justina for taking me back to the heart.

SCBWI Conference

I just got back from the annual conference put on by my local chapter of the society of children's book writers and illustrators (SCBWI). Boy! They should find a shorter acronym. The event was well organized and went without a hitch.

I always feel so inspired after spending the day around such great and talented people. The illustrators gave great presentations, the local published writers were fun and lively. There were some presenters who were very full of themselves, but, overall, it was a positive vibe.

Even while I feel inspired, I get that sense of being a grain of sand in a pile of poppy seeds. There are so many of us, and I'm not the one with any value. That's how I feel. Many on the unpublished side of the fence are practically rabid with hope and need. I'm on that unpublished side of the fence, but I went without an agenda of finding that agent or publisher who would think me wonderful.

I need to observe and absorb right now. While conferences are informative, there is a distinct them and us feel to them. The agents, publishers, editors, published artists and writers glomb together as professionals in a field, while the rest of us stand outside the gate, feverishly wanting inside.

One minute, I think Giving It Over is a great novel. The next minute, I think it's tripe. I can't be objective about it any more. So, what's the deal? Spend money on professional critiques? Oh, yes. There are many people out there willing to take my money. What makes their opinion any better than those of my critique group or any of the other people who've read my book?

Maybe if I just focus on book 2, the geek girl story, I'll be okay. I need to get lost in it. Then there's that short story about the love potion I haven't finished. Yeah. I've definately got stuff I could be doing. Going to this conference is good fuel. And then there's the retreat in June.

Just keep swimming.

Novel Finished

I completed Giving It Over several months ago and am embarking on that oh-so-fun quest for representation. I've used Writer's Query and the Writer's Market to find agents and have been sending off whatever their guidelines stipulate, one or two at a time. A few have asked to see pages. One agent, whom I met at the Whidbey Island writer's conference told me that she thought the premise of the story was good and wanted to see the first fifty pages. "Now, all we need to know is whether or not you can write."

Apparently, she thought that I couldn't write, because, after reading the first 75 pages of the novel, she declined...as have all others.

Now, I know that agents are busy folks. I have refrained from dogging anyone and asking those burning questions: WTF? and Could you throw me a bone, please?

Whether or not my YA novel ever gets published, I've met many other extremely good, unpublished novelists. I belong to a small, online writer's group, comprised of novelists, short story and flash fiction writers and a few poets. With their support, I finished my first novel and have begun outlining another. They taught me to set aside my fears about never being published and give myself over to the process. Not such a bad deal after all, huh?

Several short pieceds published since my last post:

Personal Essay – The Los Angeles Journal, June 2005 edition, “Waxworks”

Personal Travel Essay – E-Marginalia, “Getting Touchy in Tuscany”

Short Story – ConteOnline Literary Quarterly, “Pay Me No Mind”

Flash Fiction –Salome on October, 2006, “We Would Like to Honor You with Our Appreciation”

Personal Essay – Edifice Wrecked, Nov, 2006, “The Dead Files”

New Travel Article

Getting Touchy in Tuscany is now posted in e-marginalia.com, online travel e-zine. Pretty dang cool. This one is part of a contest. Add your comments!

Photos of hikes in Washington

Watson Lake is one of my favorite hikes. These pictures were taken on a still, sweltering day in July of 2004. But this spot is even more beautiful in autumn, when the ground vegetation turns red, yellow and orange.

New Article Published - Los Angeles Journal

Waxworks was published in the June, 2005 issue of the Los Angeles Journal. I was thrilled that they published it with artwork. I've reproduced it as it appeared in The Journal on my own web page. They were quite liberal in their edits of it:

Waxworks

This article was written as one of a series. At this time, it looks like this is the only one The Journal intends to publish.

N~

Short Story published in conteonline

A new online literary journal just issued its first of what will be a monthly publication:

Conteonline

I am proud to say that my short story, Pay Me No Mind, is included in this first issue.

Conferences

Well, the Whidbey Island Writer's Conference for 2005 has come and gone. I can't imagine ever missing it. But what a drain. I felt like an exposed nerve the entire time I was there.

The first day was a blast. I did one of the Thursday pre-c0nference workshops. This year they offered a YA workshop, lead by Randy Powell. Randy was a terrific leader for this workshop, having written 7 successful YA novels. I was impressed by how thoroughly he had read everyone's work. He made many comments and was obviously familiar with each story. I've attended workshops where that wasn't the case.


An example of a disappointing one would be that writer's digest memoir one I did last year, where the woman leading the course couldn't remember any of our stories. She did nothing to encourage the other participants to read and critique each other, and she solicited her services, trying to get us to pay her for additional consultations after the course.


Anyway, Randy did a great job. Everyone's stuff was so good. I felt like I was in wonderful company, and I got some good feedback. The experience was exhausting. Seven pieces in one day!

Most of us were staying at a retreat house near Coopville. The house was an enormous, beautiful home with huge kitchen, fireplace, hot tub, gardens, view of water. It was very inspiring.

Once the conference began, I climbed onto an emotional roller coaster for the rest of the week. Up one minute, full of self-doubt and self-loathing the next. "What am I doing here where all of these talented people are?" I was sure they could see that I did not belong.

One particular moment stands out as a bad one for me. I met Robert Ferrigno that week. He was one of the speakers at my fireside chat on mystery and suspence writing. We were both surprised to find out that we had lived in Belmont Shore at the same time in the 1990s. Although we did not seem to know any of the same people, we both had strong, detailed memories of what that small town within a big city beach community was like.

When I first met him, I could not recall any books by him that I had read. I later realized that he had written Horse Latitudes. When it first came out, I recall that Dodd's bookstore in Belmont Shore was really hyping it as a first novel of a local writer. I read it over 15 years ago.

Later, I asked him to autograph a book I had bought. Then, during the book signing hour, I sat down at his table and tried to make small talk. I felt as comfortable with him as I did with just about anyone else there, and I figured that we had some common ground. He seemed cordial but reserved. It was clear he didn't want to talk to me. I looked away from him for a moment, and, when I looked back in his direction, he was rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Was he doing this because he wanted me to leave, or was I being too sensitive? Then a romance writer with big hair sat down at the table. He said to her, "I'm so glad you came over here. I was so bored." Okay. I can be kind of thick at times, but now I got it. Ciao!

Talk about feeling rejected! All the self-doubts come out at a time like that. Is it because I'm middle-aged? Am I that boring? Blah, blah, blah.

Other parts of the conference were fantastic. I got to go to a couple of panels where Jane Yolen was a participant. The speakers were all pretty wonderful. At the house where I was staying, people were talking animatedly about characters they had created as though they were real. In fact, they were real. It was great.

I also had a chance to talk to an agent who represents writers of children's books. She loved my story idea and said she would be interested in reading my book once I've polished it up. Does she say that to everyone?

Once I got into my car, though, to come home, I kept seeing Robert Ferrigno rolling his eyes.

Writer's conferences are definately something I will continue to attend.