Marcia Thornton Jones's Blog, page 164

CRUSHING YOUR ENDING

A Guest Blog on September’s Theme
by Cassie Feldman
When my mom asked if I wanted to write her blog post this month—with the theme of “endings”—I said sure then procrastinated for 2 weeks. So here I am, trying to figure out what endings mean to me.  I think I’ll consult my inner dictionary.  Let’s flip to the “E” section:

Cassie’s Inner Dictionary:

Enchilada (n.): 1) A tasty treat
2) A party in my mouth
3) The delicious snack you ordered at fake Mexico in Disney World
Not far enough; keep going…

Endoscopy (n.): Tell your doctor, “Hell NO!” and run for your life
Too far. Oh there it is:

Ending (n.): 1) Done-zo
2)The part you hate writing

That doesn’t help. Okay, let’s look at it another way. My inner dictionary also tells me it’s a noun, meaning it’s a person, place or thing.  An ending isn’t a location and it doesn’t feel like an inanimate object either. An ending can evolve. To me, endings are more like people—like lovable, schizophrenic jerks. So maybe I should redefine “ending” for myself.

If an ending were a person, in order to define it, I would have to utilize the characteristics of every guy I’ve ever had a crush on. An ending can be your first crush. It sticks in your mind for days. You picture yourself in its story, and when your crush looks at you? Game over. That is, unless your crush openly rejects to hold your hand on the playground. Then, an ending can be your first taste of heartbreak. It can send you spinning into the arms of the only people who understand you: Mrs. Fields and Sara Lee.

An ending can make you think. It can be the intellectual you spent nights discussing foreign policy with, or the unpredictable guy with a Mohawk and Shel Silverstein poem tattooed on his back.

An ending can be the awkward guy you met at intramural kickball. Sure, it was funny when he kept missing the ball and falling on his butt. But now you’re wondering where the attraction came from when he continually failed to satisfy the only objective of kickball (aka kick the ball).

An ending can surprise you. At first you think he doesn’t know you exist. But one day, he turns around in math class and tells you he likes you. Then you say, “I like you, too.” And he looks at you funny because, you realize, he didn’t confess his undying love for you; he only wanted to borrow a pencil. Then you’re mortified that you told your inner, most-secret feelings to the guy you like, so you have to get out of the classroom immediately. You go to your teacher and tell her you feel ill. She asks what’s wrong and you need it to be bad. So you say you have “the clap” because you heard people talking about it on MTV, even though your Dad told you not to watch that channel. And you don’t know what “the clap” is; you only know that everyone on The Real World doesn’t want it. So your teacher rushes you to the nurse and tells her you have “the clap.” The nurse shrieks and calls your parents who barge into the school and demand you tell them who you did “the nasty” with. And you have no idea what “the nasty” is so you think of the first man who pops into your head and you say Hans Gruber. And your dad yells “That son of a—” You get the picture.

So which type of ending should you settle down with? I wish I could tell you exactly how to choose, but I’m single, so...
What I will do is tell you how I chose my last ending.

The last book I wrote was a humorous middle grade coming-of-age story. I slogged through my first draft, re-wrote the second, and polished the third. As a result, I had a novel I loved with an ending I hated. I had no clue how to fix it. So I took some time away and tried not to think about it…which turned into me actively thinking about how I shouldn’t be thinking about it. Then I tried something different. I pictured myself in a bookstore, purchasing the book I wrote. I thought about how I would feel reading my book for the first time. “As a reader,” I asked myself, “what do I want to know before it’s over?” Suddenly I had a few places to start.

With that beginning to spark my ending, I thought not only about how my characters would respond to their issues, but how I wanted the reader to feel when it ended. Because if your ending has the characteristics of a former crush, make sure you choose the crush that has the right feel for your story before you commit.

So the next time you find yourself stuck on an ending, give this a try. Think of the reader, think of the characters, and think of that dreamy person you shared an enchilada with in Disney World.

Cassie Feldman is one part science nerd and one part business professional, and most of her parts parts are always thinking about her next project. Currently she’s writing a sitcom pilot while she’s contemplating another novel and trying to place her middle grade with a publisher. She’s fun to follow on Twitter @cas siefeldman
Thanks for the day off, Cassie!
—Jody Feldman

Ending of Another KindBy Marcia Thornton Jones"Sorrow is ...

Ending of Another KindBy Marcia Thornton Jones
"Sorrow is heavy, hard work. It stalls all your systems in order to force you toward a very, very painful task: coping with loss…loss is hard for us, and healing from it takes a lot of energy. A big loss may require so much energy that our essential selves shut down every possible function.”(pages 182-183: FINDING YOUR NORTH STAR by Martha Beck)
There are many types of endings. The end of a story, end of summer, end of an era. The end of childhood, end of innocence, end of a relationship. The end of a life.
Some endings are harder than others. The really tough endings involve losses that leave empty spaces in our lives and hearts. Those endings result in profound and often paralyzing grief.
CoCo-Mo was a member of my family. She was my companion, friend, sidekick, and muse for more than 15 years. CoCo was the inspiration for the cat characters of “Cococmo” in the Ghostville Elementary series, “Mo” in the Keyholder series, and “Echo” in my midgrade novel WOODFORD BRAVE.
Two nights ago, as I held her, CoCo’s life ended.
So my question is: how do you summon creative energy to write through paralyzing grief?

Happily Ever After -- by Jane Kelley

I believe my books should have happy endings.

I don't have a lot of power in the world, but I do have that one. I can, if I rewrite enough times, provide a satisfying conclusion to whatever drama I have just put my character through. If my girl is hiking, she will reach her goal. If my parrot is lost, he will find his way home. If my ghost is unhappy, she will find peace. And if my boy believes in believing, then he will get the girl. At least for now.

But I also believe in justice. I won't arbitrarily provide a heap of happiness just because we're a few pages from the end. My characters have to earn their rewards.

Actually, that means the writer has to write well enough to earn them. Yup. That means me. I have to make my characters' troubles real, and their reactions to their troubles even more real. Consequences must be suffered. Lessons learned. I have to punish the wicked––or at least not reward them. Because that's part of justice too.

Yes, I believe in happy endings. And I hope that those endings will make my readers happy.
.

Beginnings by Darlene Beck Jacobson

As writers, we are often told to begin stories with a hook. A question.  Something that teases the reader and makes her want to  read on. I've often thought about what constitutes a page-turner beginning to a story.
Let's look at the first sentences of some award winning books to see.

In Harper Lee's TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, she begins with this: "When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow."   We readers immediately want to know HOW. So we read on.

CHAINS by Laurie Halse Anderson begins with: "The best time to talk to ghosts is just before the sun comes up."  WHO is talking and WHY is this person telling us about communicating with ghosts?

Katherine Applegate's soon to be released book CRENSHAW has - what I think - one of the best first lines ever. "I noticed several weird things about the surfboarding cat." Oh my.  Don't you wish you'd written that?

In my own MG historical WHEELS OF CHANGE (Creston Books), I wanted to fix the time and place from the first sentence. "Henry's hammer hits iron - pig, pa-ping."  WHO is Henry?  WHERE are we and why is he hitting iron?

In all of these examples the first sentence works because it makes us want to read on and learn more.

Stay away from cliches, we are also told, or an editor will go no further than page one.  Yet Madeleine L'Engle's Newbery classic A WRINKLE IN TIME begins with the queen of all clicles: "It was a dark and stormy night." Why does it work?  Because we've all experienced such a night where fear is unleashed and nightmares take over.  We read on to see if our own fears and nightmares are revealed on the page.

First lines can be powerful things.

An End Worth Waiting For by Deborah Lytton - September Theme

The best endings stay with us long after we've closed a book.  Sometimes I have to confess I might even read them over several times (or more) just to savor them.  To me, a great ending is one which gives a reader what we hope for, but also adds something else, something unexpected to the closing sentences of the book.  Finding the balance between fulfilling the promise made in the opening pages without being completely predictable is difficult and something I strive to do every time I write a manuscript.  I hope to write the kind of ending that makes a reader sigh and hug the book.  The only way I know to do this is to continue to push myself to grow as an author, to challenge myself to open my imagination to taking the road less traveled and to rewriting until it's just right. 
One of my secret weapons is chocolate.

The other is The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler.

Mr. Vogler bases his work on Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces which breaks down stories into the patterns that connect all stories together.  In using the analysis set forth in Mr. Vogler's work, I am able to see where the mistakes in my stories can be fixed, and most importantly, how to create a powerful and long-lasting ending.  What are your secrets to creating the perfect ending? 

Ode to the Unfinished Novel by Irene Latham

one of many unfinished novels
I wrote as a childI love beginnings. I love the buzz in my stomach as a new idea takes hold. I love first lines, first glimpses of character and plot. So much life! So much promise!

But then... sometimes things get fuzzy, a fog settles in. I don't know which way to turn, or where. And lo, is that another new idea buzzing in the distance? Maybe that's a better idea. If I don't chase it, it might just disappear!

And there's this: if I never finish the story, if I never reach THE END, the idea remains viable, sparkling, alive. I haven't failed.

Which means, not finishing is mostly related to FEAR. If I don't finish, and you never read it, then you can't say it needs work or it fails completely. It seems a safe-r place to be. But it's not the way to be an artist.

The way to be an artist is to develop the discipline to carry our buzzy ideas all the way to THE END. To tunnel through that fear, to allow our plots to fail, our characters to flounder, our sentences to fall apart. There is no such thing as "wasted time." It all matters, each and every word. It all helps get us where we need to be. And then, only then, in the midst of all that wreckage, can a beautiful, breathing thing emerge.

This is what I tell myself when I am ready to dump a project: At least, at least one draft. Be brave enough to take it all the way to THE END.

Let the story live!

What Has to Happen? By Ann Haywood Leal

I believe it was the brilliant John Irving who said,  “You don’t initiate a story until you know how you’re going to end it.  You don’t start a dinner party conversation—‘A funny thing happened on the way to LaGuardia’ –and not know what happened in LaGuardia."
I used to use the “fly by the seat of my pants” approach.  Sometimes it worked—just by fluke, I think.  But more often than not, I would dig myself into a hole and get stuck.  Now I think I tend to agree with John Irving.  I try to tell myself the story.  I don’t like to tell other people the story, because, maybe it’s just Irish superstition, but it feels as if it loses some of the magic for me when I talk it out with someone.  I’ll write little notes to myself –when I do it that way, it’s as if the story unfolds on its own.  As soon as I have a general idea of where it's going, then I start to work—and I work out technicalities and logistics along the way.But the big, meaty question I try to remember to ask myself is, What has to happen?  If you have an impulsive character up on a rocky ledge, or if you have a nervous, self-conscious character fumbling in a mud pit, what absolutely has to happen?  I don't always know, but it's always an adventure to see where this question takes me.

WRITING IS HARD AND YOU ARE NOT A GENIUS by Tracy Holczer

I feel some capital letters coming on, so bear with me.

I used to be a process junkie. Every conference I attended, every workshop or class, I wanted to know, "What is your process?"

Because mine may as well have looked like this:





Of course, what I really wanted to know was, "How do you write a book?" Because who wants to try and fail and try and fail and try and fail if you can just ask someone else, some other successful person, how they did it and then copy the crap out of them?

"Write an outline," they said.

"Find out what is in your character's pocket," they said. "Nothing," I said. "But if they did have something, what would it be?" they said.

O.O

"Try this sixty-seven point, fold-a-paper, pretend you're a snowflake method. Works for me every time," they said.

So I tried (and still try) all of those things. And failed (and still fail).

BUT I have figured out that I can't work with an outline. And that even if my characters had something in their pockets, I wouldn't care, and that I am wonderfully horrible at anything with more than three steps. I also figured out we all have some process related things in common and that pop up with every book:

YOU HAVE TO DO ALL THE THINGS. There aren't any magic beans and for every fifty-seven things you try, you may end up with one or two that stick and become your process.

WRITING IS HARD AND YOU ARE NOT A GENIUS. Beethoven and Hawking are geniuses. Just know that if the sneaky part of your mind is telling you, "you don't have to listen to that critique/change that plotline/kill off that character," then you probably do.

DON'T WAIT UNTIL YOU ARE "FEELING IT." I would literally never get out of bed if I waited for my feelings to show up.

TAKE BREAKS. Just because you decided to be a writer does not mean your children should have to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rest of their lives.

YOU MUST BE COMFORTABLE WITH YOUR FLAWS. Or, at least, know what they are. Or at the very least, know that you have them. Writing a book has this amazing ability to call forth every one of your flaws in bright screaming Technicolor and possibly stereo and then challenge them to a duel.

Please know that my capital letters are for the stubborn, know-it-all, perfectionist crazy-head that is writing this post. If you know a stubborn, know-it-all, perfectionist crazy-head writer/human, feel free to share.

Writing Interesting Characters - Glenn Wood

As an author of children’s books one of my biggest challenges is finding characters that will not only appeal to my audience but will also stand out from the crowd. That, and coming up with an original idea of course. To have a truly successful book these two factors need to work in tandem. 
What do readers remember most about the Harry Potter books? Usually, Harry Potter and Hogwarts. Harry is a fascinating character in his own right, the orphaned child of murdered magician parents and Hogwarts, a school for young magicians operating alongside the real world, was a great idea. 
For The Brain Sucker I had a strong central concept – a brilliant maniac had invented a machine that could suck the goodness out of kids to create the evil world he desired – but I also needed strong characters to really bring the story to life. 
Once my evil character was formed I needed an equally compelling hero. I wanted a character that had the guts to handle whatever was thrown at him, a boy who had already faced adversity and risen above it with strength and humour. The resulting protagonist was Callum, a thirteen year old boy who had been born with a spinal injury and was confined to a wheelchair. 
This presented me with several challenges. I knew very little about children with disabilities or the restrictions faced by people in wheelchairs. I also had a very clear idea about my character; I didn’t want him to feel like a victim and wasn’t interested in writing a story where disability was the central theme. It was important that my readers saw Callum as a teenage boy first and foremost and the fact he was in a wheelchair became almost irrelevant. 
During my research I was fortunate enough to receive help from an extremely interesting and innovative wheelchair manufacturer – Trekinetic All Terrain Limited. Their managing director was kind enough to share his insights on both the mechanical limitations of wheelchairs and the attitudes of the people who use them. This was invaluable for the development of my main character. 
To my surprise, I quickly discovered that having a hero that was confined to a wheelchair was liberating rather than limiting. The way Callum copes with his disability opened up two very strong character traits. He became fiercely independent but also incredibly stubborn and this developed into one of the main themes of my story – the importance of being able to ask for help when you need it.
Feedback from reviewers so far has been extremely positive about both Callum’s character and the way his disability has been handled. For me, being able to create unique and memorable characters is one of the most enjoyable parts of writing. 
~

Glenn Wood is an award winning copywriter and author who has four published books to his credit. These include his popular autobiographical novels – The Laughing Policeman and Cop Out – and two middle school books The Brain Sucker and The Bully Chip.  THE BRAIN SUCKER is an absolutely delightful MG--told with a great deal of humor and understanding. Be sure to snag a copy and keep up with Glenn Wood at his author site.

Little Breaks for Big Ideas, by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich

The other night, I learned how to do this:

It's a very first try at English Paper Piecing (EPP), with scrap fabric and no plan, generally thought of as a hand quilting technique. I'm not planning to make a quilt, though I love to do all kinds of needlework and stitchery. But it seemed like the perfect little fiddly thing for my mini writing breaks. You know, the times when you're trying to figure out a story problem? Or know you have a problem but aren't sure what exactly that problem might be? Or you just need to stop for 15 minutes and regroup. Or my favourite -- when I know that there's something right there, just brewing underneath, but it needs to be teased out, developed gently with love and patience. Often, those are the times that I take a walk. Getting up and moving are almost always the best ways for me to shake off any hints of block, to generate ideas, to think a story through. But sometimes, a few minutes of stitching, of working with my hands, does the trick. I learned the EPP basics on Monday night; it came in very handy yesterday as I thought "Big Picture" thoughts about a novel revision. On three different occasions throughout the day, I picked it up, stitched for 5 or 6 minutes, then put it down. Over the past couple of weeks I've been working on this embroidery sampler:

In those few minutes of doing a stitch, I give my mind the freedom to decide on whether or not to revive long-dormant projects, to ponder brand-new ones that I'll note and work on later. It's just a few minutes each time. But it helps me allow myself to let my mind journey...to move forward, backward, or even in circles; and then to grab onto those delicate threads of new ideas, wonderings, stories, and weave them into my work.

I hate to waste. I wondered for a moment what I'd do with that first attempt at EPP. It's not pretty, but still...

...Then I remembered: I've already used it. And it's served me well.

Also, maybe one day I'll make a little quilt.