Marcia Thornton Jones's Blog, page 184

Gleaning (November Harvest Theme) by Bob Krech

Our family owns a share in a local organic farm. From May through the end of November we go out there once a week on our designated day and pick up (or literally, pick) our share. The vegetables are great and I've learned a lot about some veggies I'd never heard of before, as well as how to cook them.

I think my favorite part of this process (besides eating) is when they open up the farm at the end of the season for gleaning. During that final week, all the share holders are allowed to go out into the fields and basically pick up whatever is left. As much as you want. It is mostly root vegetables like carrots, daikon, rutabaga, and kohlrabi. A lot of them are small, misshapen, or imperfect in various ways. This is a lot of fun, especially with kids.

One of the things I've ended up doing in my writing reminds me a little of gleaning. My natural tendency is to overwrite. I'm not a big talker, but I guess I'm a "big writer." The first time I showed one of my YA novels to an editor, he told me I would need to lose about 100 pages! That gives you some idea.

I still overwrite, but now of course I go back over the manuscript and cut and cut and cut. Some of the cuts, I just delete. But some I save. Sometimes whole scenes or even pages. Some of those pieces took a long time to craft and they're not bad, they just aren't propelling the story forward enough to keep in there. Sometimes they contain a description I like or some dialogue or an idea, that may be useful in the future.

I tend to cut these pieces and paste them at the back of the manuscript in case I need to put them back. After the manuscript is final though, I will eventually put them in a file marked "Deleted scenes from xxx" and leave them in the desktop equivalent of the attic for future use. On a few occasions I have actually gone back and gleaned a few bits and pieces and given them new life.

I thought I was the only one who did this until recently when on a freelance job I was reviewing a draft of a television script, and lo and behold there at the end of the script were some snippets the writer had cut and pasted and I guess had inadvertently left there. It made me smile to see it wasn't just me with this little habit. Anybody else out there do this kind of thing? Fellow gleaners?

MY SQUIRRELY IDEA-GATHERING WAYS November Theme by Tamera Wissinger

My little comp book.Story ideas are everywhere. At least they are in my world…some are in my journal, while others are in the little composition book that I carry in my shoulder bag, or in the note pad I keep in my night stand, or on another little pad that I keep tucked inside my golf bag. They might also be on a sticky note (or napkin) in my car, on the grocery list (or receipt). A new favorite if I’m without pen and paper: the “Notes” app in my phone. This month I’m participating in Picture Book Idea Month (PiBoIdMo, the picture book writer's equivalent of NaNoWriMo headed by picture book author Tara Lazar), so ideas are flying in particularly fast – one or more a day. Wherever I am, if an idea strikes I try to get it down. The problem (if you want to call it a problem) is, I’m not very organized with my ideas once they’re captured.

In the wild, I recently learned, this gathering methodology has a name: Scatter Hoarding. It’s the behavior I see in the gray squirrel that, for much of the year, uses my backyard as her scatter-hoarding highway. She routinely busies herself with finding and then hiding her food supply in various places around the neighborhood so that she can come back to those spots later – when she’s hungry and there is no food available in plain sight.

It’s not one bit glamorous that my story idea gathering behavior is a teensy bit (or a lot) like the squirrel, but it works for me. In the moment, it's most important to me to recognize an idea, get it down, and tuck it away so that I can come back for it later. And I do. When I’m hungry for a new idea and there is nothing available in plain sight, I gather my scattered notes, take stock, and dive into the one that I find most tempting.
Maybe it’s not the most efficient way to handle ideas, but for now I’m content with my squirrely idea-gathering ways. Who knows, maybe I'll even get a PiBoIdMo story idea out of this. What’s your methodology for capturing your ideas? Do you scatter like me, are you more organized, or do you have a different frenzied, but effective way? My squirrely idea-gathering mind wants to know.~~~~~Tamera Will Wissinger writes poetry and stories for children. She earned her M.F.A. degree in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Hamline University. She is the author of GONE FISHING: A Novel in Verse (Houghton Mifflin Books for Children) and THIS OLD BAND (Sky Pony Press). Connect with Tamera online through her Website or on Twitter.

Harvesting the Gems.

For me, the revision process for a novel is a lot like harvesting.  Plowing through rows of dense prose to find the ripe phrase, lush imagery, and fresh sentence buried beneath so much manure.
      Each passing lifts away a fallow, useless bit to wither and delete, leaving behind the small, sparkling gems that were always there, but needed pruning.  As the perfect words, phrases, and scenes settle onto the page, it's as satisfying and refreshing as a day spent outdoors.  Breezy, sun-filled and clear; newly dusted off with all the dead debris removed. Now visible in all its splendor.
     Like a crisp, juicy apple nourishes the body, my aim is to harvest the prose that nourishes the soul.

Growing Back, Almost Like Magic by Jody Feldman

Garlic plants, summer.My Uncle Sonny used to make barbeque sauce and blue cheese dressing. He also grew garlic in his garden which he’d share with my mom. In turn, she’d share with me. After my uncle passed away, I still had a head of garlic in my possession. I took it out to add to dinner one night, but couldn’t let it go like that. Instead of cooking with those cloves, I planted them. From that one head of garlic, I’ve been harvesting a bounty for years now.

Understand, I am not a gardener. I love the idea of gardening, especially of food gardening, but there’s a big problem; a collection of problems, actually. I forget to plant in the proper season. I fail to thin my crops. I don’t like to weed or water or otherwise tend to things like that. And yet, year after year, the garlic comes back, full and healthy, producing ramps and seeds and the type of heads you find in stores.


Garlic plants, yesterday. It’s dawned on me, more than once, how magically similar growing garlic is to my idea process. I’m guessing that if I actually took time to cultivate my ideas, I’d be able to grow so many more. And yet, when I’ve plucked out all I have at the moment, I can turn around, and even more have taken their place. Sort of like these young plants have in my garlic bed. They’ve just appeared. In November. Maybe when they shouldn’t.

November Theme: Harvesting SuccessBy Marcia Thornton Jone...

November Theme: Harvesting SuccessBy Marcia Thornton Jones
My life revolves around goals and to-do lists. Day in and day out I write—or I don’t. I sit at my desk or lug my laptop to the family room or tote my journal just about everywhere as I pursue the never-ending goal of finding the right words that will give scattered ideas shape, form, and meaning. I usually end up feeling that I didn’t write enough, the scenes didn’t match my vision, the plot sagged, or the characters were flat.
It’s. Never. Good. Enough.
I have a feeling I’m not alone with this kind of thinking. (I’m not, am I???)
For many writers the achievements and successes that indicate we’ve ‘made it’ are rare, and they’re often overshadowed by all that negative feedback writers tend to receive (a.k.a. rejections). After all, what does ‘good enough’ look like? What does ‘making it’ really mean? What, exactly, is ‘success’?  Toward the end of a recent week-long beach retreat with Barbara Underhill and Susan Rosson Spain, I bemoaned the fact that I was a failure. After all, I hadn’t accomplished what I set out to do. I didn’t have a rough outline. I didn’t know my main plot points. I hadn’t accrued a massive word count. I started to wonder: Why do I keep trying? Wouldn’t giving up be easier? Then I stopped and paid attention to where I was. I sat on Cape Canaveral beach sipping wine, watching the waves, breathing salt air, counting beached jellyfish-- and brainstorming how to develop the shadow side of a story’s antagonist and protagonist.  Suddenly, my questions morphed into, “How did I get lucky enough to end up here?”
The answer: Over a decade ago I sowed the seeds of friendship with these amazing women while attending a writing conference. Sitting on that beach, it occurred to me that a successful writing life isn’t only about pounding out words on the computer or achieving page counts or tallying book sales.
So I am going to redefine success. Okay, yeah, I know. I still have to actually write, but I’m also going to count relationships that nurture my creative energy. Relationships harvested as a result of teaching writing workshops, mentoring writers, attending writing and book groups…and especially from sipping wine on a beach while brainstorming with other writers!

Savor the Harvest (November Theme)

by Naomi Kinsman

What's your take on showers? We all have to take them nearly every day, and maybe we even enjoy the thinking time they offer. But they take up so much valuable time, don't they? Not only the shower itself, but then afterward, the lotion and drying of hair and getting dressed and putting on of make-up make me feel like I'm slogging in slo-mo on the way to the start of my day. I thought I was the only one who woke up with a groan on hair-washing days. Yesterday, though, I was talking to a friend, and realized shower-frustration might be a universal feeling.

It's not just showers. I bet if you sat down right now and listed daily-life obstacles, you'd have a list of at least ten, and maybe even fifty. We have slo-mo hours in traffic, weeks when inexplicably our devices stop speaking to one another so we have to reboot and reload everything, and even months when every time we sit down to create, question leads to question, creating what feels like an ever-tangling spiderweb that we're sure we'll never escape.

This morning,  I read a post by Michael Hyatt about how a shift of perspective can lower stress. I, for one, need a shift of perspective regarding all of these obstacles. Maybe you do, too. Not a fake one that kind of makes me feel better because I'm sugar-coating the truth, but a true shift that feels solid and authentic.

I looked up the definition of harvest this morning. My favorite definition was "a supply of anything gathered at maturity and stored."Questions come to mind. What am I planting? What's maturing in my creative life? What's ready to be gathered and stored?

If you're anything like me, you're trying to harvest all the time, hoping you have the superpower of not needing to plant seeds or let the crops grow. If we consider wheat or grapes or any other crop, we see that growing seasons are long. In fact, they influence one another year after year. Maybe this is what all that slo-mo is about, allowing a growing season for our creativity short term, and long term, too. Maybe as question piles on top of question and I'm sure nothing is happening, the true work is being done. The crop is maturing.

And thus, the shift of perspective. That time isn't wasted time--it's the growing season.

Okay, but here's the thing. When I'm reaping a harvest, it's not so hard to nod my head and say, "Yes, I wish the development hadn't taken so long, but I see the value of the process." In the midst of the questions, I'd be more likely to bang my head against the wall rather than spout anything so reasonable.

That's why, when we do come to the harvest, when the book or project takes form, we must savor the experience. We need to gather the crop and then take the time to reflect on the journey. The WHOLE journey. Maybe we need to write ourselves a letter about how this creation came to be. That way, in the next growing season, we have a tangible reminder. We have to remember to let our crops grow, to not harvest them too soon, too impatiently.

Right now, I'm in the growing season. I wish I had such a letter. I'm going to put a sticky on my desk to remind me to write one when this project comes to maturity. And then, I'm going to do my best to let the questions pile up, let the spiderweb tangle, knowing that with time, the crop will be ready to harvest.

How about you? Are you in a growing season? Mid-harvest? I'd love to hear your thoughts on showers, our piles of questions or the value of writing letters to oneself during mature moments.


photo credit: Carosaurus via photopin cc

Honest Harvest by Deborah Lytton

When I think of harvesting, I think of retaining the healthy crop and leaving behind the weeds.  The hardest part of harvesting as a writer is knowing what part of our work is worth keeping and what part needs to be left behind.  I like to work with paper and pen. I know I am old-fashioned, but there is something about scribbling my ideas on paper that allows me more freedom than when I see them in print on a screen in front of me.  I guess I am willing to be imperfect with my pen.  I can scratch things out and rip out pages, happily crumpling them and sometimes even throwing them across the room.  On the computer, I am always afraid to delete something, so I end up saving file after file of drafts.  I tend to scribble my ideas on paper and then type them up, allowing for a revision in the process.  This way, I can only keep the best part of the crop and leave behind the weeds.  But what happens when the whole manuscript is a weed?  This week, I am asking myself that very question.  I am working on a new manuscript, and I am 80 plus pages into my first draft.  But it's just not working.  It's not as good as it could be.  The truth is that it isn't a crop worth harvesting.  So as difficult as it is, I have decided to (gasp) start over.  This is the biggest challenge of all writers, I think.  Knowing when you are not producing your best work, and being honest enough with yourself to leave it behind.  I hope all of your work today is worth harvesting--and as soon as I post this blog, I am going to grab my pen and paper and create some work of my own worth harvesting. 

Megan: Harvesting Ideas

One of the most common questions students ask writers is, “Where do you get your ideas?” When I present at schools, I talk about how writers come up with “What if?” questions to generate stories, so I tell them the better question is, “Where do you get your questions?”
Either way, student and adult writers want to know where ideas come from, how to hold onto them, and how to nourish them into fruition. Of course there is no magic formula, but if I had to give one piece of advice, it would be this: be bored.
That technology has deeply infiltrated most of our lives is a fact, and the effects of this infiltration are multiple and complicated. By and large, I am grateful for the advantages technology has brought to my life, but if there was one aspect which I think is a true danger it’s that we rarely have to be bored anymore. Long line at the coffee shop? Pull out the phone and check Twitter. Kid’s practice is running late? Time to read email on my iPad.
Writers, though – and I imagine all creative people – get ideas by looking both inward and outward. We observe, we notice, we ask questions (“Why is that man wearing hunting gear and flip flops?”). Sometimes these ideas are fleeting, but other times they take root and grow into stories. My husband and I were driving together when he pointed out the cemetery where his grandparents were buried. I noticed a bike next to a house in the cemetery – “Does a child live there?” I wondered. And then I imagined that child. Who is she? What games does she play? And that child became Hazel Kaplansky, heroine of my secondmiddle grade novel. Had I been distracted by my phone, and given only a cursory glance, a whole novel might not have been born.
Similarly, once you have an idea and you are working on it, there will be times when you get stuck. But something you see when you look up and notice things might spark the next phase of the project, or might untangle a knot you’ve tied. You start to see the world through the lens of your story. Something you notice – some little detail – can wiggle its way into your mind and onto the page.

Stop, look, listen. Cultivate boredom; harvest stories.

A Writer's Harvest by Irene Latham

So, harvest. We writers are constantly harvesting, aren't we?
Last month at a writing intensive with author Candice Ransom on writing middle grade novels and easy readers, Candice made the argument for Place (as opposed to the more common “character” or “plot”) as a starting point for stories. During her talk, I realized that the one thing all my wide array of writings (adult poetry, children's poetry, children's historical novels, children's contemporary, children's fantasy) have in common is a strong sense of PLACE.
Candice gave us a series of prompts to help us get to know our places and to find answers for character and plot by using place. One that really stuck with me was this one: “When is your place most itself?” It makes sense to set your story during this time. Lo and behold, I realized I had done this when writing my middle grade works.
LEAVING GEE'S BEND – set in Gee's Bend, Alabama, during the peak of the cotton harvest(November)
DON'T FEED THE BOY – set in a central Alabama zoo, during the peak season for zoos: summer
DEAR WANDERING WILDEBEEST – set at an African water hole during Wildebeest migration season, when water holes are still present, but dwindling
DESERT FISH – set in Death Valley National Park during the hottest month: July
UNTITLED WIP – set in a Florida citrus grove during harvest time: Fall

And currently, this November, I am busy harvesting words for NANOWRIMO on that untitled wip!
Happy Harvesting to all my Writer Friends. :)

Your Character Did What ?? By Ann Haywood Leal

Writers can harvest ideas at the drop of a pick axe, right?  As soon as we sit down and touch our fingers to the computer keys, those brilliant ideas just spill out onto the page like giant raindrops . . . right? 

Yesterday, I gave a mini workshop on grabbing onto ideas and putting them into a story. 

I explained that you must make the reader fall in love with your character from the very first second, so that they will cry right along with your character when bad things happen, and cheer for them until the very last page. 

A woman sat in front of me, listening intently, with a pained expression on her face.  

Great, I thought.  My talk must completely stink, and she'll be heading for the door at any moment.

But she finally raised her hand tentatively.  "I have lots of ideas," she said. 





"Do you write them down?"  I asked.  "What's the idea that is closest to your heart?"

She hesitated for a moment, then went on to talk about her characters and her setting.

"Does your character have a problem?" I asked.

The pained expression soaked into her face again.  "I don't want to give her too much of a problem.  I would feel too bad for her."

"It will keep your reader turning the page," I explained.  

Then, as if the Writer Fairy had cast her magic wand, in walked my friend and author-extraordinaire Eric Luper.  "You have to do it," he said.

We tag-teamed the poor woman, trying to convince her that the worse things got for her character, the more her readers would want to--and have to turn the page.

I hope she is home today feeling truly bad for her character.  I hope she is crying sloppy tears as she harvests her ideas and makes her character's situation almost untenable -- almost.  Then I hope those tears become joyful ones as her character climbs out from under the heavy rock pile.  

Now I'm going to go and try taking my own advice.  The character in my WIP had better be prepared, because things are going to get ugly . . .