More true tales from the glamorous life of a writer

notes, notes, and more notes

Life has been a little hectic recently. I spent a week playing medical advocate for my elderly father who lives in Florida. It was wonderful spending a week with him and frustrating that the week was mainly at the hospital where my greatest asset was my ability to rattle cages while smiling politely.

It doesn't hurt that I have a long history of working in the health care system. And let me tell you, it's a mess. But that's another blog post for another day.

The best news is my dad is now in a rehabilitation hospital, gaining strength so he can go back to his home and his community. And, since I had none of my usual distractions while I was there, I got a ton of writing done on ITHAKA RISING, the sequel in progress to DERELICT. The projected story length is about 80K or so. I'm just shy of 52K with a solid roadmap of the next big chunk of the narrative. Those notes are part of my 'now what' brainstorming sessions.

The past 2 weeks have netted me over 20,000 words for this novel. I'm proud of that work.

I've begun to believe that half (or more!) of writing a novel is not getting distracted. But the flip side of that is the tendency to hyper-focus on the writing to the detriment of everything else in life. (Bills, phone calls, laundry, etc). So a big part of my internal work is searching for balance. I have not been very good at finding it lately. But this morning, I completed the FAFSA for my son's college financial aid and made a bunch of phone calls that I had been avoiding. And tomorrow I'm making time to go to the ceramics studio.

One of the biggest problems of being a writer is the isolation. Writing is a solo sport. It requires focus and introspection. And it can be lonely, despite the 'company' of our characters. I struggle with the need for external validation and support so I don't feel as if I'm working in a vacuum. When I'm lonely, or frustrated with the writing, it's so simple to click over to a browser window and hang out on twitter/fb/google plus. There is a steady stream of conversation happening. It's a kind of anesthetic for the mind and makes me feel like I'm not so isolated. However, what I've been realizing lately, is that it also has a very negative side effect.

I read everyone's reports of their best selves, best accomplishments, most witty presentations on social media, and I feel terrible. I fall into self-pity, self-loathing, and envy. And let me tell you, those emotions do not fuel the creative process in any sort of healthy way.

It creates a black hole that sucks away joy and the ability to be playful and take risks, all of which are necessary to creativity. I know things are bad when I start to do the "why not me" routine. There's the insidious believe that I deserve to be successful, sell books, garner fans. This way lies madness.

Here's the thing: No one owes me anything.

I am not owed readers or fans or patrons or supporters. Would I like all those things? Sure. And a JK Rowling-sum of money would be great, too.  But just because I create, write, publish, doesn't mean I deserve a cookie for it.

So I wrote this to remind myself that it's about the work. The need to spin a story is what drives me to fill out notebooks, to research translations of Greek poetry, rare isotopes, and the symptoms of traumatic brain injury, and to return, again and again to the writing.

No, it's not glamorous. I'm not likely to have a zillion twitter followers who hang on my every word. I'm not likely to have my manuscripts go to auction and have publishers tripping over themselves to be the buyer. But I have written and published novels that I am proud of. Some of them have found their true readers, readers who have found something that came from my strange and murky imagination to be moving and meaningful.

And that's the true glamour.

Will curiosity be a national security offense?

Muddy Puddle, photo by aston5man, used w/attribution, cc license
(trust me, it is relevant to the post)

Over the past nine years, I have researched information on such topics as:

• using chemicals to set fires
• poisons that simulate death
• how to garrote someone
• hand to hand knife fighting
• assessing the time of death from the condition of a corpse
• the difference in damage a straight gunshot does vs a ricochet bullet
• how to hack into computer networks
• brainwashing techniques 

I have also done quite a bit of reading on the role of women in middle eastern cultures, genetic engineering, conspiracy theorists, inner city gangs, and drug cartels.

I haven't yet had the occasion to look into explosives or sabotage,  but given my curiosity and the range of the novels I like to write, it's probably only a matter of time.

My work is firmly in the range of SPECULATIVE fiction. It lives in the land of 'what if'. But because I care deeply about maintaining the suspension of disbelief and not breaking the spell for a reader, I do a lot of research to ensure the details are based in fact. I only hope that when the NSA or some other agency comes calling, they'll let me show them the novels I've written before carting me off somewhere.

Given that my internet searches will alternate discovering the correct dose of arsenic to cause death from the phone number for the self-service dog wash in my town, I'm obviously a dangerous sociopath who wants clean dogs.

What's the strangest or most outlandish thing you've researched?
What do you think that says about you?

Staying in School

1929 School Photo Grade 3, Rotterdam, photo by Yvonne Thompson,
used with attribution, cc license

I doubt many of my readers attended a school like the one pictured above. Even in the 'dark ages' of my elementary school years, things were a bit more modern. Even so, this isn't the kind of school I'm talking about.

Yes, I was one of those kids who loved school. I remember, vividly, becoming hysterical when I realized that getting the chicken pox meant missing school for a whole week. I continued to go to school through high school, college, and then graduate school. That's a lot of years sitting in classrooms.

Now, I've been out of formal school for more years than I attended, which is a strange metric. But I have maintained my lifetime love of learning in less formal ways.

When I was actively practicing as a physical therapist, I always attended several courses and conferences a year, even when my license didn't require it. And I always sought out courses that would challenge me. I was talking about this just the other day--I'm happiest when I'm surrounded by people who are smarter than I am.

Not because I'm any sort of masochist, or like feeling dumb, but because being around people at the top of their game, puts me on my "A" game.

One of the best aspects to being a writer (aside from giving an outlet to the voices in one's head) is that a writer is constantly learning. And for this writer, the entirety of the internet, every library, and the wisdom of my fellow writers are my classrooms.

For my current WIP (Work in Progress), DERELICT (a SF story), I've had to research hydroponics, plant biology, communications technology, and music theory. The biggest danger is falling into the learning and the research rabbit hole and having a hard time returning to the actual writing!

And remember my love of being around really bright people? I've found that experts of all stripes really enjoy and are gracious about sharing their knowledge, especially when you confess you are a writer.

I think my favorite consult was with an organization of female falconers who were extremely helpful when one of my stories involved raptors. This was not long after the first Harry Potter movie had come out and they were frustrated by the use of owls in the stories. According to them, owls were 'dumber than a box of rocks.' The information they shared with me gave me enormous insight into and appreciation for falconry.

So, dear readers, what's the most interesting subject you've learned about recently?

---
This post is my contribution to my writing group's new weekly topic challenge. Susan Spann, author of the forthcoming ninja detective novel CLAWS OF THE CAT (Thomas Dunne, 2013), will propose a topic on her blog each Monday and we each of us will respond. Today, Susan challenged us to write about 'school' and talks about pranking her 9th grade English teacher. Feel free to join in, write your own thoughts about school, and add your link on Susan's blog.

A Mansard, but not *My* Mansard

Edward Hopper's House by the Railroad, photo by unbearable lightness, used with attribution, CC license

"The House of Many Doors" is a book I wrote that centers in and around a 'haunted' brick mansard roofed house. I started writing the novel in early 2006 based only on a vague idea of a house whose rooms you could visit in dreams, where you would travel back in time to when the house was built.

That idea morphed and evolved into the present novel that I describe as 'A Wrinkle in Time' meets 'The Shining'. 

I didn't know what a mansard house was when I initially started this book. All I imagined when I thought of a haunted house was the house from the Adamms Family. When I did a little research, I discovered that house was called a mansard, or second empire house and that mansard houses look like the flat roofed beauty in Hopper's painting.

My dear NYC friend, Diane, told me that the NYTimes sunday magazine had a study of some of Hopper's houses, with images of the paintings and the photos of the houses as they stand now.

Hopper's famous Mansard Roof was painted in Gloucester, MA. But it looks a lot less like *my* house than the House by the Railroad seen above. The loneliness factor is just right, though the house from my book is brick.

That house actually exists, as if fully sprung from my own twisted imagination.

I found it 2 years ago when I visited Newark, NJ for the Geraldine R Dodge poetry festival. My writer-friend Sue took me through the Newark Museum and when we walked through the Ballantine House, which the museum is built around, I just about fell over. (If you follow the link, you will see black and white photos from the Nat'l register of historic places. This *is* the house Parker must challenge for his father's life and sanity.)

Someday, I would love to have a book release party there. Though I would be constantly looking over my shoulder for the ghosts.

:)

Card of the Day: Three of Swords

One of the characters in "Future Tense" informed me that she reads tarot cards. And suddenly, that became central to the plot and to Matt's character arc.

I know next to nothing about tarot and I knew that tarot readings would be crucial to plot, so I put out a call and several very generous writer souls answered it. (Thank you "A" and "B"!)

In order to write about readings, I needed to really learn the cards, so I bought a deck and went off to the library for several books on tarot interpretation.

One of the things all the books recommend is to draw a card of the day to learn about the deck and its meanings. The deck I bought is slightly different than the traditional deck, and some of the cards have different interpretations. I have been using the daily cards as a meditation of sorts, letting my subconscious make connections between the art, the traditional meaning, and current life events.

Today's card is the Three of Swords. In a traditional deck, it is a photo of a heart, pierced by three swords. Meaning: heartbreak, pain, despair. The deck I have shows something slightly different: a woman collecting firewood in a winter landscape, three swords piercing the barren ground. According to the artist, this represents obstacles, opposition, separation, and estrangement.

Now, I don't believe in a fixed fate, nor do I believe that cards can show me the direct future, but it is interesting that I drew this particular card today. My husband is struggling with frustration at work, which came to a head last night. Since he has been at the same facility for nearly 18 years, in large part defines himself by what he does there, and is extremely emotionally committed to his patients and his work, this conflict and difficulty fills him with despair.

I like the interpretation at the Intuitive tarot site:

"On a more general level the Three of Swords represents storms that must be weathered if one is to grow beyond the illusions being held onto. The three always brings anguish at its darkest level but it also brings a truth that needed to be learned."

If nothing else, I see the tarot as a wealth of symbols and archetypes, that mingled with the imagination of the writer can lead to useful narratives. Narratives that illuminate one's internal and external landscapes.

How generous people are

Writing is often a solitary and lonely endeavor. Unlike music, which is commonly (though not always) a collaborative process, writing tends to be one writer, typing away at a word processor.

The internet, that whipping boy of modern civilization, is a terrific boon to the writer. Research is only ever a click away, and there are numerous internet based writing organizations and communities that help with the isolation.

I am a member of two of those: one for poetry and one for fiction.

This is the tale of making connections through those communities, as well as ones in real life, and what happens when you have questions that a quick net search won't answer.

As part of "Future Tense," I needed information on foster care. My main character is a teenage foster kid. What I know about the foster system is distorted through the lens of television police procedural and crime scene shows. I knew I needed some better source material to plase my character's actions and reactions in context. It also was critical to have the character's foster parents feel real and three dimensional. So I asked questions, both in my online communities and through real-life connections.

My online writer friends gave me links and information that helped me tremendously. But I needed more.

It just so happens, that I am the human half of a certified dog therapy team through a local therapy dog organization. Tigger and I have often done visits to an afterschool program organized for children who live in homeless shelters and transitional housing. I figured that the organization might know of a social worker who would be willing to let me pick his or her brain about the foster system.

One email, and voila. I have an appointment to have coffee with a lovely woman who was interested in the novel and wanted to help me get the details right.

The other issue that came up in working on the novel was reading tarot cards. I honestly didn't know at the start of this at the beginning of the month, that not only would I have a tarot card reading character, but that she would be critical to the plot!

I know almost nothing about tarot cards, other than what I have seen in other books and tv shows. So off I went to my writing networks, and lo and behold, not one, but two tarot card readers who have both been immensely helpful and generous with their time.

I can only hope to repay their generosity, both in kind and in paying it forward to a writer approaching me with questions.

To my angel helpers--thank you!

What did I do today?

What does a day in the writing life look like?

I got up at 6:20 this morning to get my HS kid off to school. Usually, I sleep in a bit later than this--till 6:45 or 7, but hubby got paged in at 5 am for an emergency, so it was my turn. After the middle school kiddo got on his way at 7:45, I waited for the contractors to come and start the repair work after the plumbing leak last month.

They came and went by 9, unable to start the job until tomorrow. Sigh.

I gave myself an hour to read/respond to emails, and blogs, while slurping several cups of coffee, before opening the WIP.

I finished the scene I had ended in the middle of yesterday (that's a wonderful tool for me--it keeps my momentum going) and pushed into today's writing.

Then I realized I needed some research information in order to write it. Off to the 'net to look at resources for hand to hand fighting, karate, and boxing moves.

The internet is definitely a double edged sword when it comes to research. It can be a treasure trove as well as a time suck, often simultaneously.

I was able to get the information I needed and returned to scrabble out my 1,000 words.

Then a break for lunch and hot tea. (We had our first frost last night and none of our storm windows are down yet--it's cold in here!)

A walk for the dog, and it was time for my youngest to get home from school.

It might not seem like a productive day, but 1K a day can net a first draft of a novel in a matter of months.

Now it's off to wear the parent hat and take said youngest child to his clarinet lesson.

Happy writing.

Language, thinking, and alien cultures

When written well, science fiction and speculative fiction can open a window on current social structure and mores in a way that can profoundly change thinking without being overtly threatening. One of the ways these genres can do this is through the depiction of alien cultures. Think of Ursula K Le Guin's "The Left Hand of Darkness", for example. The way in which she explores gender and makes the reader quietly question his or her own gender assumptions was groundbreaking at the time the book was published. It probably had more influence on ideas about gender than many college lectures given in those same years.

Part of that is certainly worldbuilding and sheer writing skill, but some is also the way in which Le Guin has her characters use language to shape both their culture and our interpretation of that culture. One of my reader pet peeves is when writers simply omit contractions and have their alien races all talk a stilted version of English as a way to demarcate culture. True confession--in the first draft of the first novel I wrote, I had my Fantasy shapeshifters talk like that. At the time, I [cringe] thought it made them sound mysterious. Looking back, they just sound silly. Another peeve is the use of vernacular English with some simple substitution of a made up word for its English counterpart. (I think the Turkey City Lexicon calls this 'calling a rabbit a smeerp' problem.)

Language, culture, and thought patterns are intimately linked in ways we are only beginning to understand. For a fascinating example of this from current science, take the research of Lera Boroditsky. She is an assistant professor of psychology, neuroscience, and symbolic systems at Stanford University and was a guest on the WBUR show "Here and Now" on July 1, 2009 (follow the link and select the podcast to hear her interview). She is specifically looking at how language shapes the way we think.

If you'd rather read than listen, her article, "How does language shape the way we think" is fascinating.

In both the radio show and the article, Boroditsky presents some of her research. In one study, she looked at Aboriginals in Australia who speak in terms of the cardinal directions (N,S,E,W) rather than in relative terms (up, down, beside, etc). This is not simply a language pattern, but it is part and parcel of how they interact with the world and understand abstract concepts such as time. She also talks about how thought patterns about nouns are altered in cultures that assign gender to objects. A particularly interesting example of this is the word for bridge is feminine in German and masculine in Spanish. German speakers are more likely to describe a bridge in terms we associate with femininity (elegant, beautiful) while Spanish speakers use more masculine terms (strong, imposing.)

If you are a writer working with alien/invented cultures, I urge you to read Boroditsky's article and find the ways that your invented civilizations differ from our own in the way individuals think and use language, even if you never leap to the level of insanity of creating a complete language. (cough. . . Tolkien, LOL)

Follow the patterns of language and you will find your culture to be richer and more fully realized, making your story stronger.

Inspiration, Ideas, and First Drafts

People are always interested in where writers get ideas from. Pretty much every story I have written starts with an image or sense of place and a glimmerings of a character interacting with that place. In fact, I consider setting to be a character. That is certainly the case with "The House of Many Doors," "The Wings of Winter," and "Heal Thyself." In each of these three stories, characters, choices, and plot events are inextricably tied to the settings and worlds they inhabit.

I often find inspiration in photographs and paintings. It's probably because I have next to no talent in visual art. (Really--ask my husband--I take the world's worst photographs.)

This morning, I went to my usual tuesday writing group at the Watertown Library and saw an exhibition of photographs, by photographer John Borchard. His work compares mist and light in Ireland to mist and light at the Quabbin Reservoir in Western Massachusetts.

I have been fascinated by the stories of the flooding of the Swift River Valley in the 1930s. It would make a great backdrop to an urban fantasy story. John Borchard's haunting photographs reminded me of that, and in our 30 minute freewrite time, I played with finding a character to go with the setting.

I'd like to share my (very raw) first draft sketch. If I do pursue this story and the character of Miriam, I would have to do a significant amount of research. I don't know the landscape around the reservoir, don't know if it's realistic for her to live near it and teach in Amherst, among other things. So don't be looking for any geographical accuracy in what follows. This is, at best, a proof of concept sketch, and a way of letting the plot bunny settle in the background of my thoughts as I work on other projects. Typos and awkward grammar are as is from the freewrite exercise.

Enjoy!

Miriam shivered as the fog closed in around her, obscuring, then revealing the resoirvoir that opened like a large unblinking eye. Ever since she moved here and heard the story of the town drowned for thirsty and wealthy of Boston and Beacon Hill a century ago, she'd been drawn to the quabbin. It seemed to be in a perpetual state of gloom, even on the sunniest of days, so unlike the landscape of Arizona and California where she'd lived, gone to school, and worked. But the tenure track job at Cal tech had evaporated along with the grant money for her research and when the job at UMass Amherst opened up, it seemed like the answer to all her problems.

Including Kevin.

Her cell phone chirped, breaking the silence of her morning walk. She briefly considered throwing it into the reservoir, but figured the ghosts of the town wouldn't appreciate it. Kevin's number flashed on the caller id. She was tempted to shunt him to voice mail, but that was sometimes worse. Knowing his voice was waiting for her was a trap and a distraction. Sighing, she picked up the call.

"Kev."

"Hey, baby," he said. His voice was California sunshine itself, and she could almost hear his perfect tan, white teeth, and expensive sun glasses. "How's it going?"

He was up early. Probably on his way to the gym to work on his vanity. Mirriam sighed. Kevin had been her thesis advisor four years ago and had practically bullied the comp sci departement head into hiring her after graduation. For that, he expected her gratitude. And she had been grateful. It didn't hurt that he was smart as hell, sexy, and well connected in the field. He opened a lot of doors for Miriam. Including the one to her bedroom.

"So far so good." He'd been dead set against her move here.

"The dean at UC Davis has been drooling over your CV."

Miriam's hand clamped down on the phone. "I already have a job."

"It'll be perfect. I've even got a grant for. . ."

"How's your wife, Kev?"

That stopped him cold. The wind shifted and the mist blew away from the water. The world disappeared into white static and her phone squacked, dropping the call. He would think she'd hung up on him.

That was probably not a bad thing.

Mirriam shrugged and tucked the phone back in her pocket. In the distance, a church bell rang. A shiver that was only partly from the cold, wet air, traveled down her spine. The nearest town was a drive away. The only church for miles around was the one beneath the water and that bell hadn't rang for more than a hundred years.

She didn't believe in ghosts, Or anything she couldn't write an algorhythm for. But her ears heard the nicker of horses and the clink of metal on metal. She closed her eyes. The car was in the lot on the other side of the path. If she backtracked, even in the fog she couldn't miss it.

Turning around, Mirriam started walking back. She jammed her foot on a tree root and stumbled, her hands automatically reaching to break her fall. Instead of rough pavement beneath her palms, she sank into soft dirt and packed leaves and pine needles. A child laughed in the distance.

Research and Writing

One of the things I love most about writing is the research a writer has the opportunity to do in the process of working on a novel.

My newest project is a return to medical thriller territory and I spent several happy hours yesterday researching:

sickle cell anemia
staph and strep bacterial infections
plasmids and bacterial gene transfer
mitochondrial function and diseases

I have a collection of great internet links and resources. Now I just need to put all the information into a cohesive whole, to fill in the blanks and make the premise believable, based on an extrapolation of current science.

It's so cool to be a writer!