Jennifer R. Hubbard's Blog, page 108
January 3, 2011
Crisis
Another quotation from May Sarton's The Small Room:
"... she caught herself wondering whether crisis may be one of the climates where education flourishes--a climate that forces honesty out, breaks down the walls of what ought to be, and reveals what is, instead."
I marked this because I think it applies to writing as well as education. And I'm not thinking about the writer's crises here (although I suppose that could apply), but the characters' crises. At the heart of any story is conflict, the conflict that "forces honesty out" and shifts the worldviews of the characters. It is in crisis that characters confront their weaknesses, and fall prey to them or grow past them. In crisis, they often face things they've been trying to ignore.
At the climax of a story, there is an honesty, a revelation of "what is," and this moment is the reader's payoff. At this moment, we discover whether the hero is stronger (or wiser) than the villain; we learn whether the character belongs with her love interest; we find out the secret the main character's been hiding; we solve the mystery. We see whether the main character is going to put on his big-boy pants and grow up. We see whether he has the internal strength to cope with an external defeat.
Crisis gives life to a plotline; it breaks open characters to reveal the hearts within.
"... she caught herself wondering whether crisis may be one of the climates where education flourishes--a climate that forces honesty out, breaks down the walls of what ought to be, and reveals what is, instead."
I marked this because I think it applies to writing as well as education. And I'm not thinking about the writer's crises here (although I suppose that could apply), but the characters' crises. At the heart of any story is conflict, the conflict that "forces honesty out" and shifts the worldviews of the characters. It is in crisis that characters confront their weaknesses, and fall prey to them or grow past them. In crisis, they often face things they've been trying to ignore.
At the climax of a story, there is an honesty, a revelation of "what is," and this moment is the reader's payoff. At this moment, we discover whether the hero is stronger (or wiser) than the villain; we learn whether the character belongs with her love interest; we find out the secret the main character's been hiding; we solve the mystery. We see whether the main character is going to put on his big-boy pants and grow up. We see whether he has the internal strength to cope with an external defeat.
Crisis gives life to a plotline; it breaks open characters to reveal the hearts within.
December 31, 2010
The price of excellence
After reading a bunch of new books and taking a good bite out of my TBR pile, and finding myself deep in a revision, I decided I need a comfort re-read. The book I chose was May Sarton's The Small Room. Today, these excerpts struck me:
"'One always gets a negative reaction after a good class. It's one of the hazards of the profession.'
'Is it?'
'You've given a piece of yourself away, even if it is only a certain amount of nervous energy, don't you know? And you are a bit deflated as a result--diminished, one might say.'"
Those were two teachers talking about their profession, but it seems to me they could as easily have been two authors talking about writing. Now this:
"'... we talk a great deal about excellence, and pride ourselves on demanding it, but when we get what we have asked for, become ... confused and jejune ... We are unwilling, evidently, to pay the price of excellence. ... The price is eccentricity, maladjustment if you will, isolation of one sort or another, strangeness, narrowness. Excellence costs a great deal. It is high time some of us faced the fact.'"
I realize these quotes may sound a little negative. But I think they resonated with me because they acknowledge that writing costs a lot, and striving to write well costs even more. And it makes sense, since writing gives us so much. To me, these quotes are comforting because they give us permission to take breaks, to juggle priorities. The times that seem tough? They are tough; it's not our imagination! Writing is a form of giving, and it requires energy and time and concentration and solitude. And I say this not in a suffering-is-noble way, but in an it's-natural-to-be-tired-when-we've-worked-hard sort of way.
So here's to working hard ... and then resting.
"'One always gets a negative reaction after a good class. It's one of the hazards of the profession.'
'Is it?'
'You've given a piece of yourself away, even if it is only a certain amount of nervous energy, don't you know? And you are a bit deflated as a result--diminished, one might say.'"
Those were two teachers talking about their profession, but it seems to me they could as easily have been two authors talking about writing. Now this:
"'... we talk a great deal about excellence, and pride ourselves on demanding it, but when we get what we have asked for, become ... confused and jejune ... We are unwilling, evidently, to pay the price of excellence. ... The price is eccentricity, maladjustment if you will, isolation of one sort or another, strangeness, narrowness. Excellence costs a great deal. It is high time some of us faced the fact.'"
I realize these quotes may sound a little negative. But I think they resonated with me because they acknowledge that writing costs a lot, and striving to write well costs even more. And it makes sense, since writing gives us so much. To me, these quotes are comforting because they give us permission to take breaks, to juggle priorities. The times that seem tough? They are tough; it's not our imagination! Writing is a form of giving, and it requires energy and time and concentration and solitude. And I say this not in a suffering-is-noble way, but in an it's-natural-to-be-tired-when-we've-worked-hard sort of way.
So here's to working hard ... and then resting.
December 30, 2010
Look around
I'm not going to do a retrospective post of 2010. I've been seeing many such posts, and I'm a little dizzy with everyone's accomplishments, and with all the plans and resolutions for 2011. Looking back over the past two years, all I can say is this:
Nothing makes a year pass more slowly than having your first book scheduled to come out the following year. (So went 2009.)
Nothing makes a year pass more quickly than having your first book come out in January. (So went 2010.)
I swear, 2009 was about a hundred times longer than 2010.
At the moment, I don't want to dwell on the year that was or the new year that soon will be, but on the present. This moment, right now. I have a note on my desk that says, "Look around you," and if I do that, I see:
the rumpled quilt on the bed
the photograph of tulips that hangs on my wall
a December night sky, purpley-black with a single star glowing
snow gleaming on the ground
the blue cap from a bottle of water drunk long ago
the brown scarf I use as a dust cover for my keyboard
What do you see?
Nothing makes a year pass more slowly than having your first book scheduled to come out the following year. (So went 2009.)
Nothing makes a year pass more quickly than having your first book come out in January. (So went 2010.)
I swear, 2009 was about a hundred times longer than 2010.
At the moment, I don't want to dwell on the year that was or the new year that soon will be, but on the present. This moment, right now. I have a note on my desk that says, "Look around you," and if I do that, I see:
the rumpled quilt on the bed
the photograph of tulips that hangs on my wall
a December night sky, purpley-black with a single star glowing
snow gleaming on the ground
the blue cap from a bottle of water drunk long ago
the brown scarf I use as a dust cover for my keyboard
What do you see?
December 28, 2010
A question of names
First up, I must post the December 28 question for the Book Club's 31 Days of Giveaway. If you know the answer to this holiday trivia question, post the answer on Crissi's blog to win the day's prize (a signed hard-cover of The Secret Year). You must post the answer on Crissi's blog and not here because not only is she drawing the winning name, but the security of this quesion is such that I don't even know the answer myself!
The question is:
In the 1968 animated film The Little Drummer Boy, what is the Drummer Boy's name?
Which naturally suggests character names as my blog topic for the day. But I could rant forever about how I search, and change my mind a dozen times, and finally pick a character's name, only to find that a bestselling writer has written a book similar to mine and used the same main character's name, so I change the name, only to get a new boss who has the character's new name, so I change it again, only to have a serial killer make headlines with that name, so I change it again ...
Not that I am bitter. After a few hours with the baby-name book, all is right with the world again. For example, did you know that the name "Riju" means "innocent?" And that Maja was the second most popular name for Swedish girls in 2005? You're welcome!
The question is:
In the 1968 animated film The Little Drummer Boy, what is the Drummer Boy's name?
Which naturally suggests character names as my blog topic for the day. But I could rant forever about how I search, and change my mind a dozen times, and finally pick a character's name, only to find that a bestselling writer has written a book similar to mine and used the same main character's name, so I change the name, only to get a new boss who has the character's new name, so I change it again, only to have a serial killer make headlines with that name, so I change it again ...
Not that I am bitter. After a few hours with the baby-name book, all is right with the world again. For example, did you know that the name "Riju" means "innocent?" And that Maja was the second most popular name for Swedish girls in 2005? You're welcome!
December 27, 2010
Fresh snow
I want to point out one of the Heifer Intl. challenges that's still going on, because it goes through New Year's Day, and the host is giving $10 per comment. I think some of you saw my Twitter post or the link from Nathan Bransford's blog, but if you haven't stopped by Anemone's Assays yet, please do!
In holiday news, it was delightful to return from my Christmas trip and find so many blog posts with pretty pictures and lovely wishes. It was also delightful to beat the snowstorm home, and to watch the white stuff pile up at my leisure, while the Christmas tree glows and my cat naps. Really, Norman Rockwell needs to just paint me right now!
In the writerly realm, I've been reading a lot. I'm thinking about form in YA novels: chapter length, scene length. Letters, emails, diary entries. Newer forms like verse novels and graphic novels. (And who knows what digital novels will morph into?) There's a certain form I've been dying to play with, but it has to wait until I get through my current project.
This is part of what keeps art fresh, I think: trying new things. I may hate this new form, or I may fail at it. But "failure" in the arts is really a relative term. So often, it means "not yet" or "not this one" rather than "not ever."
In holiday news, it was delightful to return from my Christmas trip and find so many blog posts with pretty pictures and lovely wishes. It was also delightful to beat the snowstorm home, and to watch the white stuff pile up at my leisure, while the Christmas tree glows and my cat naps. Really, Norman Rockwell needs to just paint me right now!
In the writerly realm, I've been reading a lot. I'm thinking about form in YA novels: chapter length, scene length. Letters, emails, diary entries. Newer forms like verse novels and graphic novels. (And who knows what digital novels will morph into?) There's a certain form I've been dying to play with, but it has to wait until I get through my current project.
This is part of what keeps art fresh, I think: trying new things. I may hate this new form, or I may fail at it. But "failure" in the arts is really a relative term. So often, it means "not yet" or "not this one" rather than "not ever."
December 22, 2010
'Tis the season
Thanks to everyone who participated in the Heifer International blog comment challenge. At the deadline, I had 35 comments here and 19 comments at Blogspot, for a total of $54. Then, in the true spirit of social networking, I asked Twitter whether I should increase that to $75, out of holiday jollity and the like. After all, I know this is a tough week to collect comments online, given that people began to disconnect from their computers in favor of real-life merriment last Friday. Twitter replied (in the voice of Kelly Fineman) that yes, I should give $75. So I did, at 4:16 PM Eastern time.
Which doesn't mean one should do everything Kelly says. But she is a smart person, who tends to give good advice--about writing, especially.
Speaking of writing: yes, I have been! I'm in that stage of revision where the work may be good or it may be bad, but the one thing I know is that it's familiar. Very, very familiar. I've ripped out scenes and added new ones and then gone over the new scenes. I've fixed things on the sentence level and on the word level. I have now been over this manuscript more times than I can count. So it's time to step back for a few days, and return later to read it with fresh eyes.
I find that most writing projects reach this point--when they get this far at all.
For my final note of the day: The Secret Year is supposed to be out in paperback tomorrow. I don't know how closely bookstores will follow that release date. Unless you're a mega-bestseller with a household name, release dates tend to be more of a suggestion than a hard-and-fast rule. But this is probably my best gift this year:
I will be online in the coming days, but my schedule will be more sporadic than usual, so I'll take the opportunity now to wish you all wonderful holidays.
Which doesn't mean one should do everything Kelly says. But she is a smart person, who tends to give good advice--about writing, especially.
Speaking of writing: yes, I have been! I'm in that stage of revision where the work may be good or it may be bad, but the one thing I know is that it's familiar. Very, very familiar. I've ripped out scenes and added new ones and then gone over the new scenes. I've fixed things on the sentence level and on the word level. I have now been over this manuscript more times than I can count. So it's time to step back for a few days, and return later to read it with fresh eyes.
I find that most writing projects reach this point--when they get this far at all.
For my final note of the day: The Secret Year is supposed to be out in paperback tomorrow. I don't know how closely bookstores will follow that release date. Unless you're a mega-bestseller with a household name, release dates tend to be more of a suggestion than a hard-and-fast rule. But this is probably my best gift this year:
I will be online in the coming days, but my schedule will be more sporadic than usual, so I'll take the opportunity now to wish you all wonderful holidays.
December 20, 2010
Giving
Remember our library-lovin' blog challenge? (I included the link just in case you don't!) Nathan Bransford is currently running a similar challenge to benefit Heifer International.
Because you know I love this sort of thing, I'm joining in. I'll donate $1 per comment on my blog for the first 75 unique commenters (no 75 comments from the same person!). But if you see that I've reached 75 comments, keep commenting, because I might be persuaded to give more. I'm unpredictable like that.
Comments are open through Wednesday, Dec. 22, at 2 PM Eastern . You can comment here or on my Blogspot page. Anonymous comments are only accepted here at LiveJournal, and are screened until I can review them. During the challenge I will suspend my usual policy of trying to answer every comment, but I will still read every one.
This costs you nothing. If the spirit moves you, please do any or all of the following:
Go to Nathan's blog (I provided the link above); comment there and on the other participating blogs. Make us all donate! You have the power! ;-D If you're still inspired to do more, spread the word about this via Twitter, Facebook, and whatever magical elves you may know who spread information.
If you're looking for something to say in your comment, why not name a friend who means a lot to you? I've been thinking about my friend B. a lot, because a couple of days ago was the anniversary of her passing, and it's especially fitting for me to do this challenge right now. B. was an extremely generous person. So my challenge is in honor of her, and you're welcome to comment in honor of a friend, whether that friend is still with us or not.
Thank you!
Because you know I love this sort of thing, I'm joining in. I'll donate $1 per comment on my blog for the first 75 unique commenters (no 75 comments from the same person!). But if you see that I've reached 75 comments, keep commenting, because I might be persuaded to give more. I'm unpredictable like that.
Comments are open through Wednesday, Dec. 22, at 2 PM Eastern . You can comment here or on my Blogspot page. Anonymous comments are only accepted here at LiveJournal, and are screened until I can review them. During the challenge I will suspend my usual policy of trying to answer every comment, but I will still read every one.
This costs you nothing. If the spirit moves you, please do any or all of the following:
Go to Nathan's blog (I provided the link above); comment there and on the other participating blogs. Make us all donate! You have the power! ;-D If you're still inspired to do more, spread the word about this via Twitter, Facebook, and whatever magical elves you may know who spread information.
If you're looking for something to say in your comment, why not name a friend who means a lot to you? I've been thinking about my friend B. a lot, because a couple of days ago was the anniversary of her passing, and it's especially fitting for me to do this challenge right now. B. was an extremely generous person. So my challenge is in honor of her, and you're welcome to comment in honor of a friend, whether that friend is still with us or not.
Thank you!
December 19, 2010
Seasonal thoughts
Wrapping presents affords me the opportunity to collect random thoughts on the season:
1. I have plenty of empty boxes, but none of them fit the presents I'm trying to wrap.
2. The older I get, the less I need to receive.
3. I get all excited about the Winter Solstice, because now the days will start getting longer.
4. Some people complain about holiday letters, but I like them a lot, especially from people I don't hear from often.
5. I keep finding cat hair in the Scotch tape.
6. There's a line in one of the holiday songs about "scary ghost stories," but I've never heard of any family having a tradition of telling ghost
stories at this time of year. Unless maybe that's a reference to A Christmas Carol?
7. I don't care how old I get, I still always want a white Christmas.
8. Candy canes are nicer to look at than to eat.
9. Books make excellent gifts. So do bookstore gift cards. (This message brought to you by a writer.)
10. My favorite holiday songs to listen to are "O Holy Night" and "Carol of the Bells." My favorite one to sing is "Joy to the World." Nobody needs to hear me attempting to sing "O Holy Night."
11. Sometimes it seems like a fun idea to start singing "The 12 Days of Christmas," but along about the 6th day, regret sets in.
12. I like to listen to holiday music while I wrap gifts, but I usually run out of music before I run out of gifts.
13. Sometimes I think I should get Nutcracker tickets, which always makes me think of the last time I saw the Nutcracker ballet. I was recovering from a bad cold, and had an uncontrollable coughing fit during the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
14. I love the lights, tinsel, and decorations at this time of year. I hate when everything gets taken down; it makes January even bleaker. I gave this same viewpoint to a character in my book (Julia); it's one of the few attributes she and I share.
15. At my day-job holiday party, we do one of those gift swap-and-steals that is, for me, a great spectator sport.
16. The older you get, the faster Christmas comes.
17. I have no desire to go out on New Year's Eve. The few times my husband and I do go out, we're home by ten o'clock. PAR-TAY!
18. Peppermint bark is a really good idea.
1. I have plenty of empty boxes, but none of them fit the presents I'm trying to wrap.
2. The older I get, the less I need to receive.
3. I get all excited about the Winter Solstice, because now the days will start getting longer.
4. Some people complain about holiday letters, but I like them a lot, especially from people I don't hear from often.
5. I keep finding cat hair in the Scotch tape.
6. There's a line in one of the holiday songs about "scary ghost stories," but I've never heard of any family having a tradition of telling ghost
stories at this time of year. Unless maybe that's a reference to A Christmas Carol?
7. I don't care how old I get, I still always want a white Christmas.
8. Candy canes are nicer to look at than to eat.
9. Books make excellent gifts. So do bookstore gift cards. (This message brought to you by a writer.)
10. My favorite holiday songs to listen to are "O Holy Night" and "Carol of the Bells." My favorite one to sing is "Joy to the World." Nobody needs to hear me attempting to sing "O Holy Night."
11. Sometimes it seems like a fun idea to start singing "The 12 Days of Christmas," but along about the 6th day, regret sets in.
12. I like to listen to holiday music while I wrap gifts, but I usually run out of music before I run out of gifts.
13. Sometimes I think I should get Nutcracker tickets, which always makes me think of the last time I saw the Nutcracker ballet. I was recovering from a bad cold, and had an uncontrollable coughing fit during the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
14. I love the lights, tinsel, and decorations at this time of year. I hate when everything gets taken down; it makes January even bleaker. I gave this same viewpoint to a character in my book (Julia); it's one of the few attributes she and I share.
15. At my day-job holiday party, we do one of those gift swap-and-steals that is, for me, a great spectator sport.
16. The older you get, the faster Christmas comes.
17. I have no desire to go out on New Year's Eve. The few times my husband and I do go out, we're home by ten o'clock. PAR-TAY!
18. Peppermint bark is a really good idea.
Final group of 2010 debuts
I can hardly believe it, but this is the last crop of novels in my "Books of 2010" debut feature. I hope you've enjoyed this look at many of the year's new books.
Anna and the French Kiss, by Stephanie Perkins. Young adult. Anna is sent off to boarding school in Paris, where she meets the attractive Étienne. Unfortunately, he already has a girlfriend.
The Mockingbirds, by Daisy Whitney. Young adult. A date-raped student turns to a student-led group for justice.
Inconvenient, by Margie Gelbwasser. Fifteen-year-old Alyssa copes with a crush, popularity problems--and an alcoholic mother.
Anna and the French Kiss, by Stephanie Perkins. Young adult. Anna is sent off to boarding school in Paris, where she meets the attractive Étienne. Unfortunately, he already has a girlfriend.
The Mockingbirds, by Daisy Whitney. Young adult. A date-raped student turns to a student-led group for justice.
Inconvenient, by Margie Gelbwasser. Fifteen-year-old Alyssa copes with a crush, popularity problems--and an alcoholic mother.
December 17, 2010
Ten signs you may be revising a book
1. You accidentally call a friend by your main character's name.
2. There are candy wrappers on the floor of your writing office.
3. You ask people questions like, "Which sounds better, 'violet mist' or 'misty violet?'"
4. No matter how people answer the questions in #3, you write things whichever way you were going to write them anyway.
5. You realize how many times you use the word "just." The "find and replace" feature becomes your best friend.
6. You're convinced this is the most wonderful thing you've ever written.
7. You're convinced this is the most terrible thing you've ever written.
8. You're not sure when you last combed your hair, although you're pretty sure it was this week.
9. Checking off an item on your editorial checklist makes you dance.
10. You act out part of a scene to double-check that it really makes sense. You hope none of the neighbors can see you through the window, gesturing elaborately to no one.
If you are experiencing these symptoms, you may be revising a book. Seek help immediately in the form of music, chocolate, comfortable sweatpants, and sympathetic family and friends.
2. There are candy wrappers on the floor of your writing office.
3. You ask people questions like, "Which sounds better, 'violet mist' or 'misty violet?'"
4. No matter how people answer the questions in #3, you write things whichever way you were going to write them anyway.
5. You realize how many times you use the word "just." The "find and replace" feature becomes your best friend.
6. You're convinced this is the most wonderful thing you've ever written.
7. You're convinced this is the most terrible thing you've ever written.
8. You're not sure when you last combed your hair, although you're pretty sure it was this week.
9. Checking off an item on your editorial checklist makes you dance.
10. You act out part of a scene to double-check that it really makes sense. You hope none of the neighbors can see you through the window, gesturing elaborately to no one.
If you are experiencing these symptoms, you may be revising a book. Seek help immediately in the form of music, chocolate, comfortable sweatpants, and sympathetic family and friends.
