Marcia Thornton Jones's Blog, page 181
January 4, 2015
Megan: Resolve Like a Writer
"But you break resolutions." This was my six year-old's response when I reminded him of his New Year's Resolution. He'd just learned the concept of a resolution on New Year's Eve, and yet he already knew that most resolutions don't last past the first week of January.
But why don't they last? I think it's because they are more wishes than resolutions. I resolve to lose weight is perhaps the most common resolution of Americans. And our intentions are good. We can see that healthy version of ourselves, maybe playing tennis in a cute matching tennis outfit, or hiking the Knife Edge on Mount Katahdin (once again, perfectly attired -- perhaps I am revealing a bit too much of myself here). It is unliklely that we imagine ourselves eating less food than we currently do, passing up that second glass of wine, or sweating on the eliptical machine. Maybe for a moment, but our mind doesn't linger there. It focuses on the outcome.
This ability to imagine a different future is distinctly human, and what allows for innovation and creativity. Writers depend upon it. As writers, we create the world as we want it for our stories. We manage the characters, the settings, the plot twists. We make our vision a reality.
So maybe this year, instead of throwing a resolution into the winds and hoping some magic makes it real, perhaps we should approach our resolutions as we do our stories. We must not imagine only the end, but the steps it takes to get there. Just as a writer can't sit around waiting for a muse, so a resolver can't sit around waiting for the change they desire.
On that note, I am off to tackle this situation known as my desk.
But why don't they last? I think it's because they are more wishes than resolutions. I resolve to lose weight is perhaps the most common resolution of Americans. And our intentions are good. We can see that healthy version of ourselves, maybe playing tennis in a cute matching tennis outfit, or hiking the Knife Edge on Mount Katahdin (once again, perfectly attired -- perhaps I am revealing a bit too much of myself here). It is unliklely that we imagine ourselves eating less food than we currently do, passing up that second glass of wine, or sweating on the eliptical machine. Maybe for a moment, but our mind doesn't linger there. It focuses on the outcome.
This ability to imagine a different future is distinctly human, and what allows for innovation and creativity. Writers depend upon it. As writers, we create the world as we want it for our stories. We manage the characters, the settings, the plot twists. We make our vision a reality.
So maybe this year, instead of throwing a resolution into the winds and hoping some magic makes it real, perhaps we should approach our resolutions as we do our stories. We must not imagine only the end, but the steps it takes to get there. Just as a writer can't sit around waiting for a muse, so a resolver can't sit around waiting for the change they desire.
On that note, I am off to tackle this situation known as my desk.
January 3, 2015
Mining My Past by Irene Latham
middle-grade-meA few months ago I attended a workshop with middle grade author Candice Ransom. Something she said kind of changed my life:"Go back to yourself as a source."
Maybe you are one of those writers who uses your own life experiences all the time in your writing, but I am not. I love the whole imaginative aspect of writing -- love writing about other people and places, more for discovery than anything else.
Of course, when writing for a young audience, I revisit the younger me to see what she might say in the situation, or how she might react. But to use my own history, my actual life story??
I resolved then and there with stars and smilies in my notebook to mine my past.
For me, this involves pushing past fear. I have worked hard to forget a lot of things that happened to me. And while instinctively I know this honest, raw place is where a writer's best writing comes from, it's also scary.
But I'm doing it.
I started by getting CREATE YOUR LIFE STORY by Marelisa Fabrega. I'll be responding to those prompts all year long.
And I enrolled in a local 12 week THE ARTIST'S WAY course -- something I've always wanted to do. Writing is spiritual practice for me, and I know that this is a program that will take me deeper.
I'm reminded of a quote from UNBROKEN by Laura Hillenbrand. It's a footnote from one of Louie's crewmates:
"Somehow, Pillsbury survived the war, a fistful of medals and a permanent limp testifying to all he'd endured. "It was awful, awful, awful," he said through tears sixty years later. "... If you dig into it, it comes back to you. That's the way war is."
Who knows what words and stories this year will hold? I'm excited to find out!
January 2, 2015
Everyone Loves a Challenge . . . Right? By Ann Haywood Leal
"It has been like hacking away at a freezer with a screwdriver." --Amy Poehler (on writing her book, YES PLEASE)
Resolve is not only the perfect blog theme for the beginning of 2015, it is also the ideal theme for writing, especially in the verb sense of the word.
It means to sort something out, to fix it, to straighten it and find a solution. It means to decide firmly on a course of action or to figure it all out.
As writers, and as human beings in general, we are constantly trying to step over that slippery puddle that has the word, FEAR hidden beneath that thin layer of precarious winter ice.
So . . . I CHALLENGE YOU THIS MONTH. Whether it's your novel, your first marathon, that mysterious stain in the upstairs bathroom . . . maybe it's that dream job you've been dying to make your own or that intimidating volume of Proust you've been wanting to tackle . . .
Get your resolve on and make it happen.
I leave you with one more Amy Poehler quote (because I kind of want to be her when I grow up):
"So let's peek behind the curtain and hail the others like us. The open-faced sandwiches who take risks and live big and smile with all of their teeth. These are the people I want to be around. This is the honest way I want to live and love and write."
December 26, 2014
Paying It Forward Back by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich
Next week, during the Winter Break from school, while I'm writing, I'll be taking frequent breaks to work on holiday cards (I give myself until the 12th day of Christmas...or longer) and homemade candy gift boxes with my daughter. In the past, we've done these things well in advance of the Hanukkah, Christmas, the Solstice, and all of the "official" winter holidays around here, but that didn't happen this year. That doesn't change my gratitude for all of the wonderful, loving people in my life. I am so grateful to and for them in so many ways. Putting the spirit of gratitude out in the world is one way paying it forward, backward, and every which way. So, I'm looking forward to making this a "thanksgiving" Break!
It's never too late to offer thanks and love.
Wishing you joy!
December 25, 2014
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
On this Christmas day, I'm plunging into a holiday week full of people, projects, and activities that fill my heart with nothing but joy...And I'm wishing the same for all the Smack Dab readers.
Happy holidays!
Happy holidays!
December 22, 2014
Smack-Dab-in-the-Classroom: Wild Reading by author Dia Calhoun
The lovely thing about this time of year is that Smack Dab is NOT in the Classroom! Vacation Time is here.
I vividly remember the utter joy of being able to read WHATEVER I WANTED TO READ. The last day of school was the best—visiting the school library where librarian Mrs. Hayes had bowls of peppermints on the tables; choosing books, old beloved ones and new ones, to take home; carrying them piled in the crook of my arm in sweet anticipation.
Ten days to read. Ten days to be lost in other worlds, turning page after page. Ten days of paradise that could only be made better if it should snow.
Every child needs the wild, free reading time to adventure and explore new books. So let go of “structure.” Let go of “improving.” And for ten days, let your imagination roam.
Happy Holidays, and Happy Reading. And may you have snow!
Dia Calhoun
I vividly remember the utter joy of being able to read WHATEVER I WANTED TO READ. The last day of school was the best—visiting the school library where librarian Mrs. Hayes had bowls of peppermints on the tables; choosing books, old beloved ones and new ones, to take home; carrying them piled in the crook of my arm in sweet anticipation.
Ten days to read. Ten days to be lost in other worlds, turning page after page. Ten days of paradise that could only be made better if it should snow.
Every child needs the wild, free reading time to adventure and explore new books. So let go of “structure.” Let go of “improving.” And for ten days, let your imagination roam.
Happy Holidays, and Happy Reading. And may you have snow!
Dia Calhoun
December 21, 2014
Paying it Forward and Asking for Help by Laurie Calkhoven
By this point in the month, my fellow bloggers have pretty much covered the Paying it Forward theme. I’ve been trying to think of something new and different, and finally cried uncle and decided to turn the conversation in a new direction: asking for help.
Like many other children’s writers, I love to visit schools to talk about reading and writing. I also teach writing workshops at SCBWI conferences and, sometimes, in friends’ living rooms. Both are things I’d like to do more of, but I’ve never been very good at promoting myself. And while teachers, librarians, and writers have always been positive about their experiences in my visits and workshops, I’ve never been very good at asking for recommendations.
Over the past few months I’ve been trying to change that.
When someone tells me they learned a lot from one of my workshops: “Would you mind sending me a blurb for my website?”
When a conference organizer says something similar: “Would you recommend me to other SCBWI chapters?”
When a school librarian tells me that I excited and inspired her students: “Are there other schools in your area I should contact? Can I use your name?”
When an adult reader tells me how much they enjoyed one of my books: “Would you mind posting a review on one of the online bookselling sites?”
I’m always happy to help out fellow writers and readers, but I’m not comfortable asking for help myself. But I’m starting to get used to asking the questions. Some people say yes and never follow through (which is fine, people are busy). But mostly they’re happy to help—all I need to do is ask.
Now if only I could find the time to update my website........
Like many other children’s writers, I love to visit schools to talk about reading and writing. I also teach writing workshops at SCBWI conferences and, sometimes, in friends’ living rooms. Both are things I’d like to do more of, but I’ve never been very good at promoting myself. And while teachers, librarians, and writers have always been positive about their experiences in my visits and workshops, I’ve never been very good at asking for recommendations.
Over the past few months I’ve been trying to change that.
When someone tells me they learned a lot from one of my workshops: “Would you mind sending me a blurb for my website?”
When a conference organizer says something similar: “Would you recommend me to other SCBWI chapters?”
When a school librarian tells me that I excited and inspired her students: “Are there other schools in your area I should contact? Can I use your name?”
When an adult reader tells me how much they enjoyed one of my books: “Would you mind posting a review on one of the online bookselling sites?”
I’m always happy to help out fellow writers and readers, but I’m not comfortable asking for help myself. But I’m starting to get used to asking the questions. Some people say yes and never follow through (which is fine, people are busy). But mostly they’re happy to help—all I need to do is ask.
Now if only I could find the time to update my website........
IN WHICH THIS PIGLET REMEMBERS WINTER DAYS WITH POOH
Once, during a long, Minnesota winter, my young daughter and I spent our days living as Piglet and Pooh. As Piglet, I fretted; as Pooh, my daughter offered calm. In our old two-story house, our own Hundred Acre Wood, we went on expotitions, admired Christopher Robin, took advice from Owl, doted on sweet Roo. Pooh stopped by in search of honey, or stood under an umbrella waiting for the rain. When I was scared of the unknown, he held my hand. That winter, A.A. Milne’s books, and the characters he’d created, were as real to us as the never-ending snow outside our door. Those young days with my daughter disappeared, still every Christmas season we unpack the little mailbox where Pooh and Piglet left each other letters long ago. That winter, before she was a reader, my daughter could decipher Piglet’s simple messages, and the notes that filled our mailbox were cryptic little letters, simple child drawings Pooh and Piglet understood. Piglet wrote to Pooh; and Pooh wrote back. And those letters meant so much to us, they're still inside that box
How far we were that Minnesota winter from A.A. Milne and his 1920’s England, yet how present his work was in our quiet, daily lives. What he’d once imagined, we imagined; and we took it to our hearts, and made his story ours. Even to this day I am my Pooh’s Piglet.
Who can guess the power of a book: the way the characters are company, the way they are our friends, the way they teach us how to live and love?
Thank you A.A. Milne for those winter days of dreams.
MRY KRSMS POO
December 19, 2014
December Fun - Paying it Forward by Kristin Levine
Earlier this month, two friends and I were planning a day trip to New York City. A few days before we were supposed to leave, I got a text from my friend, saying our third friend had canceled. I can get a refund for the train, but what are we going to do about the extra Rockettes ticket?No worries, I texted back. I think I know someone who might want to go.I wrote a quick email to my editor, Stacey Barney, before I went to bed. Even though it was after 11 PM, I knew she was a night-owl. Sure enough, the next morning I had an email from her.The Rockettes? I've never been! How much is the ticket?After three books together, countless emails and calls, and a trip to ALA in Vegas, I didn't even have to think before replying:This one is on me.
Of course we had a great time. And I was so grateful to finally get to do something for her. PS. Just for kicks, here's a pic of me dancing on the "Big" piano at FAO Schwartz. Hey, my excuse is that I'm a middle-grade writer - it's my job to think like a kid!
December 18, 2014
Pay It Forward - But How Much? by Claudia Mills (December theme)
Both the good and bad thing about having my blogging turn fall later in the month is that I get to read everything posted on our chosen topic by my fellow bloggers before deciding what I want to contribute to the ongoing conversation. This month I've had the chance to be struck by the outpouring of generosity of my fellow writers: so many people giving so much to others in so many ways. So it's time to release just a teensy weensy bit of my own inner Scroogism.
I believe in paying it forward. I've been the beneficiary of great kindness from fellow writers, and I've tried to pay forward as much, and more, than I've received. But . . .
What are we to do when we get requests to read and comment on manuscripts - sometimes full-length novels - from (and these are all real examples from my own life): our child's kindergarten teacher, our child's fifth grade teacher, colleagues at work, our pastor, friends of friends of friends - many of whom may be extremely offended if any of the criticism we offer is actually in any way critical? Most recently, one former grad student contacted me because his wife had written a book and needed feedback on it:"Of course, I thought of you." He said he could give her comments himself (though he has never written or published any fiction), but he thought it would be better if the comments came from someone else. "You know, the usual thing, what is your audience, etc. etc." He told me it would probably take me less than an hour.
What should I have said? What would you say? How do we balance generosity to others with respect for our own time and talents? How much is too much?
Here are some guidelines I'm in the process of working out for myself.
1. It takes just a few minutes to write back to someone to give at least some morsel of encouragement and tidbit of advice. Usually, in my case, the advice involves information about the existence and resources of SCBWI.
2. Sometimes, if a manuscript is short enough, it takes me less time to give a couple of general comments than it does to explain why I'm unwilling to do so. I can certainly tell people that what they have is too long to be a picture book, or would work better in prose not rhyme, or would work better without the illustrations provided by their cousin's sister-in-law's neighbor.
3. If it's a longer manuscript, I feel no guilt in declining for reasons of time and offering referrals to writer friends who critique for a well-deserved fee.
4. If someone lives locally, I truly never mind meeting for tea. I've done this many, many, many times, and without exception the people have turned out to be absolutely fascinating and delightful, where it was a gift to me to get to know them. This is exactly how paying it forward should feel.
As for my former grad student, I told him that what he thought would take a mere hour would actually take me more like a full day of careful reading and reflection, for a manuscript that fell outside my area of professional expertise. I told him about the value of a writing group, using my own group as an example, and offered suggestions for how his wife might find one.
I always want to give SOMETHING. But I don't give EVERYTHING. Because if I did, I'd no longer be able to give ANYTHING.
I believe in paying it forward. I've been the beneficiary of great kindness from fellow writers, and I've tried to pay forward as much, and more, than I've received. But . . .
What are we to do when we get requests to read and comment on manuscripts - sometimes full-length novels - from (and these are all real examples from my own life): our child's kindergarten teacher, our child's fifth grade teacher, colleagues at work, our pastor, friends of friends of friends - many of whom may be extremely offended if any of the criticism we offer is actually in any way critical? Most recently, one former grad student contacted me because his wife had written a book and needed feedback on it:"Of course, I thought of you." He said he could give her comments himself (though he has never written or published any fiction), but he thought it would be better if the comments came from someone else. "You know, the usual thing, what is your audience, etc. etc." He told me it would probably take me less than an hour.
What should I have said? What would you say? How do we balance generosity to others with respect for our own time and talents? How much is too much?
Here are some guidelines I'm in the process of working out for myself.
1. It takes just a few minutes to write back to someone to give at least some morsel of encouragement and tidbit of advice. Usually, in my case, the advice involves information about the existence and resources of SCBWI.
2. Sometimes, if a manuscript is short enough, it takes me less time to give a couple of general comments than it does to explain why I'm unwilling to do so. I can certainly tell people that what they have is too long to be a picture book, or would work better in prose not rhyme, or would work better without the illustrations provided by their cousin's sister-in-law's neighbor.
3. If it's a longer manuscript, I feel no guilt in declining for reasons of time and offering referrals to writer friends who critique for a well-deserved fee.
4. If someone lives locally, I truly never mind meeting for tea. I've done this many, many, many times, and without exception the people have turned out to be absolutely fascinating and delightful, where it was a gift to me to get to know them. This is exactly how paying it forward should feel.
As for my former grad student, I told him that what he thought would take a mere hour would actually take me more like a full day of careful reading and reflection, for a manuscript that fell outside my area of professional expertise. I told him about the value of a writing group, using my own group as an example, and offered suggestions for how his wife might find one.
I always want to give SOMETHING. But I don't give EVERYTHING. Because if I did, I'd no longer be able to give ANYTHING.
