Jennifer R. Hubbard's Blog, page 109

Quirky is in, right?

I have a writer friend who once won a sizable grant. After that, every time she mailed a manuscript, she tried to go to the same postal clerk who had stamped her prize-winning manuscript.

In my submission-tracking spreadsheet, I use slashes to represent works that I've sent out, checkmarks to represent those that are accepted, and X's for rejections. The thing about slashes is that they can be forward slashes (/) or backslashes (\). At times, I have convinced myself that the manuscripts I track with forward slashes have a greater chance of acceptance; at other times, I've decided that manuscripts tracked with backslashes have a better chance of success. (Most sensible people know a well-written, properly targeted manuscript has the best chance of all, but that's not as easy to control as the direction of the slashes.)

Both of the above fall into the category of superstitions, but there are also writerly quirks and habits. Some of mine: my penchant for scribbling notes on receipts and candy wrappers; my need to have a glass of water on my writing desk at all times; and the way pens accumulate on my desk until the very moment I want one, when they all suddenly migrate to other parts of my office.

What are your writing quirks?

Networking, more on giving up (or not), and an invitation

As soon as I saw this post by R.L. LaFevers of Shrinking Violet Promotions, I knew I wanted to link to it. There are so many good points here about social networking for introverts, for writers--for anyone, really. For example:

"The truth is, while I love measurable metrics as much as the next person ... I’m not sure this is the best way to approach your list of followers & friends. The thing we’re after here is building meaningful connections."

Amen to that. One reason I've kept blogging for three years is not because I've racked up X number of followers, but because I enjoy it. One reason I read a lot of other blogs is because I enjoy that, too. My online community has given me so much, and I hope I've given back, too.

Also from the same post:

"Where do you want to spend your emotional and creative resources? This isn’t a trick question and there isn’t one right answer." (I think this is also related to what I blogged about  yesterday.)

And speaking of good blog posts and online community, Becky Levine remarked on one of my blog posts and ran with it.  I had blogged about how you know whether to give up on a project, and Becky had these thoughts, among others:

"Because, in every project, there will be a moment when you hate it. When you don’t know where you’re going ... . So why (and when) do you keep going."

and

"Well, that need is not just about the moment, about the scene or the character. It’s about me–if I back off and give up on the need, how is that going to make me happy."

(So much of my writing is, deep down, about my own needs. That doesn't mean my manuscripts are literal expressions of my needs--everything, of course, is symbolic and figurative, transformed and distilled.)

I like this bloggy synergy, this exchange of ideas. And I've also been thinking about how I would like to visit a few more corners of the internet, and have a few more people appear on mine. So one of my goals for 2011 is to do just that: to do some guest posts and host some guests here. If you would be interested in this, please email me at jennifer[at]jenniferhubbard[dot]com, and we'll see if we can work something out. I don't want to blog just about my book--I'm looking for a variety of topics. You don't have to be a writer, and your blog doesn't have to be about writing--although if you are and it is, that's perfectly fine, too. I just thought it might be fun to have a "blogger exchange program" of sorts.

Writing and life

Sometimes writing means transforming the stuff of life into art. Distilling experience, crystallizing it so that readers recognize it instantly and say, "Yes, that's what life is like."

Often writing means pausing from life, retiring behind a closed door, to make sense of everything that has happened, to digest it.

Sometimes the stuff of life is so immediate, urgent, and troubling--or so thrilling and absorbing--that we can't write. We're too preoccupied with living.

Sometimes we break away from our writing desks to make sure we don't miss life.

Sometimes we live with a mental keyboard in our heads, recording notes. Sometimes in this way, we capture a part of life that we would otherwise forget. Sometimes we write down those notes to fix them more permanently.

Sometimes the writing desk is a solace, an escape from tedium or pain in daily life.

Sometimes writing is a celebration. Sometimes it's a way to process painful truths.

Writing is a life examined, which is supposed to be a life worth living. But a life can't be spent only writing.

Sometimes we put down writing for a while. Sometimes it refuses to be put down.

Whether to give up on a project

Sometimes the magic leaves a project. We don't get to the ending, or maybe we don't get to turn that early draft into the book it could be.

Of course, maybe it was never meant to be a book in the first place.

My files are full of projects that I took through a few chapters or a few drafts, but then abandoned. "Abandoned" may be a strong word, however. Only when I'm dead will they be truly and permanently abandoned. For now, they're just in suspended animation. Because I frequently do return to older projects when I'm ready--when I've finally figured out how to write them, or when I can stand to be around those characters again, or when I can handle that subject matter.

It's common to hit tough spots with manuscripts. The question is how to tell a tough spot that must be powered through from a tough spot that means the project needs to be set aside.

For me, it's a gut-level decision. I could say that boredom or cluelessness (no idea what happens next) are signs to abandon a work in progress. But I often hit those spots with manuscripts I'm passionate about, and it might just mean I need to backtrack a bit, or delete a bad scene, or do some character sketches to identify the motivations. A more fatal flaw is the lack of a compelling voice--but then, the project might be resurrected with a different main character.

Deep down, it's just a feeling of excitement, of commitment, a sense that this manuscript is worth it. That this story is interesting enough to finish, and revise, and revise again. That my life will be just a little bit less if I don't finish this story.

Top 10 messages writers send one another

Aside from practical critique and information, such as where we've gone overboard with the adjectives and where we've left plot threads dangling, and how to write query letters, etc., what we most need from our writer friends is just their understanding. Our writer friends know what it's like to live with imaginary characters, and how frustrating the road to publication can be. They celebrate our successes and commiserate over the low points, even when the rest of the world doesn't understand why an end-cap is a high point, or why foil on a cover is exciting. I absolutely treasure the writer friends who have been my behind-the-scenes cheering (and cheer-up) section, and here's a big THANK YOU. In that spirit, my Top 10 messages writers love to receive from their writer friends:

1. I know the manuscript is strangling you right now, but you will flip it on its back and teach it some manners. You really will.

2. It takes as long as it takes. You'll get there.

3. Trust yourself.

4. Take a break.

5. You can do it.

6. I'm sorry you're dealing with that! It's not fair.

7. I don't understand the craziness of this business either.

8. Hugs.

9. Here is a link to the most hilarious thing on the internet EVER.

10. Did you see? Your book made the [fill in the blank] list!

They're not necessarily in order, because our needs change constantly. ;-)

Everything you probably never needed to know about taxes

Writers, like most other self-employed workers, experience the joy of multiple tax forms. The IRS actually explains everything for free—there's a form and/or a publication to answer every question. The trouble is that the explanations often involve exceptions piled on exceptions, and many times you must fill out one form with information obtained by performing a calculation on an entirely different form (or worksheet, or schedule, to use their precise terminology). Often, the instructions send you off to look at several other IRS publications, each explaining a different aspect of the situation.

I’m not at all math-phobic, but after a while it all runs together and begins to look like this:

“Report the income from line 45A on line 77, unless the amount on 45A is less than the amount on line 53, in which case report the lesser of the amount on line 53 or line 61A, unless you are a sole proprietor born on a Wednesday, in which case consult Publication 4574387 to calculate the amount to report on line 77. However, if you are left-handed and own more than one but no fewer than four marmots, consult Publication 56897586 to calculate the amount on line 77, unless you also received mining royalties in a year ending with a 3.”

And this is why accountants were created.

Disclaimer/warning: I am not a tax professional. (As if you couldn't tell.)

If the above discussion of the business side of writing has left you hungry for more craft talk, let me refer you to Josh Berk's post on how to write a romance novel. Although I'll warn you right now: it is even sillier than my tax talk.

Jacks-of-all-arts

Yesterday I blogged about music. And today I’m thinking about how many of the people I know have some creative outlet, and most writers I know have at least one in addition to writing. On the blogs I read, I find people doing collage, quilting, painting, photography, sewing, etc., etc.

Alyce Wilson even opened up a space on her blog for a “holiday bazaar” where blog readers can put up links to their creative wares, and browse one another’s work.

And speaking of arts, in the fan-art/ekphrastic category, there is this stunning example where L.T. of the Quest:Published blog created, in 3-D miniature, the garden from the Cindy Pon's book SILVER PHOENIX. Any artist would be excited as Cindy was to inspire that kind of creativity in someone else.

In fact, Cindy herself is an example of a writer with another artistic talent: in her case, Chinese brush art.

These other forms of creativity can be a break from writing, or they can nurture it by bringing an additional part of our imagination to the writing desk. What artistic outlets do you have?

Cross-pollination

I just did a quick project that involved my getting a lot of musical recommendations from people. It's been a long time since I was introduced to so much new music at once, and it reminded me how electrifying it can be to discover a musician you love but have never heard before. I still remember the college friend who got me into REM, and the radio station (WXPN in Philadelphia) that introduced me to Kelly Joe Phelps and so many other blues musicians I wouldn't have found otherwise. Movies and TV commercials have been very powerful in introducing mass audiences to certain tunes.

For me, there's a synergy between music and writing; I almost always have music on while I write. Sometimes people ask me for a playlist for The Secret Year, and I hesitate because the songs I listened to while I wrote the book won't necessarily resonate with anyone else. Also, my musical tastes tend to run heavily toward songs that were written before I was born.

But my recent experience made me think that perhaps I should mention some of the songs I listen to, just because I'm listening to songs that don't exactly get mainstream coverage right now. Maybe someone out there will get to have that joy of discovery. (Or get to feel the joy of superiority if you decide I have crap taste in music.)

So FWIW, here are two songs I listened to over and over while writing The Secret Year, and still associate with that book:
"Temptation," by Tom Waits
"Big Love," by Fleetwood Mac (the 1997 live version, not the earlier version which was totally different)
I didn't listen to "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak while writing the book, but it's occurred to me since that it would have been perfect.

And here are a few other random songs from my collection, not associated with any particular piece of writing, but which I like:

"Anji," by Simon & Garfunkel
"Fare Thee Well," by Kelly Joe Phelps
"I Just Want to See His Face," by the Rolling Stones
"Get Back," a Beatles tune as done by Daddy Mack Orr
"Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall," by Simon & Garfunkel
"I Feel So Good," by JB Lenoir

Happy listening, whatever you listen to.

It's a conspiracy, I tell ya

I've noticed with my friends who have dogs that nothing makes the pets crave their attention like getting on the phone with someone else. "I don't understand it," my friend will say after being interrupted for the fourth time. "The dog was just lying there ignoring me, and suddenly she needs to bark and get into things and play!"

It's like cleaning--no sooner do I start to attack one part of a room than I get a great idea for how to organize another part of the room, or I realize that some other cleaning project is really more urgent than the one I've already started.

Similarly, for a writer, nothing makes shiny new story ideas come flying into the brain like committing to a single story idea. Especially if one is working on a long project with a deadline that requires solid focus and commitment. Then the Muse comes dancing around, tossing out exciting new suggestions like confetti. "How about this? Or that? Or this other thing? Ooh, look! Perfect! Brilliant! This one will be the Book of Your Life!"

In vain does the writer respond that yes, those are very nice ideas, but the current project has to take precedence. Fortunately, there are notebooks and little scraps of paper on which to record the shiny new ideas while keeping on course with the work in progress. Those scraps will lurk on top of the writer's desk. Waiting. (And occasionally barking a bit).

Rocky and milestones

Rocky, the 1976 movie about a small-time boxer who gets his big chance, is part of the Philadelphia experience. The city has a statue of Rocky. There’s a plaque in front of one of the cheese-steak places (Pat's) where Sylvester Stallone stood during the filming.  And even though Philadelphia boasts an impressive art museum, there are plenty of people to whom a run up the museum’s front steps (something Rocky does in the movie), is even more significant than anything inside the building. There’s even a book about people who run up the steps, and why they do it, and what it means to them. (And yes, I ran up the steps myself the first time I visited the museum, as a 17-year-old college freshman.)

All this is to explain why the song “Gonna Fly Now,” the theme from Rocky, occasionally plays in my head. Writing a novel takes a long time; there aren’t many days where you get to type, “The End,” and sit back in satisfaction. And so, as with any endeavor that takes a long time--renovating a house, earning a college degree, growing a garden, training for a marathon--it’s important to recognize milestones along the way.

Rocky does his triumphant step-run and fist-raising not at the end of the movie's climactic fight, but after a good training session. He’s had a good day; he’s doing his best. He’s taking care of that day and letting the big picture take care of itself. I think that’s why people have found this movie so inspiring, and why nobody cares (or perhaps even remembers) that Rocky actually loses the big fight at the end. The official outcome of the fight doesn’t matter. Because everyone who sees the movie realizes that, in a bigger way, Rocky really wins.

Every day, I’m chipping away at a big project. Every day brings its own milestone. What are yours?