Alisa M. Libby's Blog, page 7

kittens and other things

This weekend we did a lot of long overdue gardening, which is so much more fun when you have a batch of tiny feral kittens living in your backyard (tabby, calico, black). Seriously, so cute! With fuzzy fur and stumpy little tails. Gardening is way better than I imagined.

In other news, I've been thinking a lot about balance: should I push myself to do more with publicity (specifically: reading and commenting on other blogs, as I've been told this might help the visibility of my blog and I can learn a lot about what's going on in the market/with other authors at the same time) or do I accept the fact that I'm doing all I can and stop stressing and feeling guilty about it?

Also, should writing be my top priority, the most important thing in my life? I can certainly see the benefit of this: if it's at the top of your list, then you can always give yourself permission to write. But I've experienced the flipside: when so much of my sense of self is tied up in my writing and the writing isn't going well, it's extremely painful. (But maybe that has more to do with the ego?) Another balancing act.

At last week's event, the lovely Ellen Wittlinger said that she writes everyday. She's written a whole bunch of books, so I'm wondering if I should take her advice. Maybe a little free-writing? Or writing something perfectly fun and indulgent that I don't think of as a "work in progress"? It could be liberating. We shall see.

I've also heard tales of a summer NaNoWriMo. Thoughts, anyone?

Methuen High School

Yesterday I attended a fantastic author event at Methuen High School, with Christopher Golden and Ellen Wittlinger. I was paired up with Ellen – a wonderful person, writer, presenter, AND a Buffy fan. We read a bit from our books, talked about character, plot, setting, and the writing/publishing process.

There were LOTS of questions, specifically about our books, how we write, and how we handle critique. (A few of my favorites: Did writing our books change us as people? Would I have wanted a different outcome for my historical characters?) A bunch of students had read The Blood Confession, and it was fun for me to answer questions on that book and even do a little reading from it. Bookstores may only be interested in promoting a book the season it comes out, but in a school library a book can live on for years. Thank goodness for libraries, and librarians!

The students – some from English class, creative writing class, or the fantastic "Books & Bagels" book club – were wonderful. So enthusiastic, so eager to read and write. These readers are the reason why I write YA books! I also met a few budding novelists already serious about their craft. And as a writer, it was great to hear Ellen (who has published 14 books) talk about how writing is work, it's not always magical, and it's not easy. It fills me with hope, hope, hope!

the moth diaries

I Just Read This Book – I actually bought it randomly at a used bookshop in Bath, England and devoured it during our trip home. The writing was beautiful, but I had never heard of it before. I did a little googling to find that, lo and behold, it's being made into a movie as we speak. Sarah Bolger, the lovely actress who played a young bloody Mary, daughter of Henry in THE TUDORS, is cast as the main character.

I'm excited about the movie, but more so about the book – the writing is so lovely and poetic and the whole thing has this dark cloudy mood about it – what is real and what isn't? Where does a dream end and reality begin? And if it seems real to the character, does the distinction even matter? Shivers!

a date with your book

I've taken author Ann Hood's advice and gone on a "date" with my book. Or with the main character, more precisely. In Hood's talk, she suggested we print out our book, get dressed up and take it to a coffee shop along with a red pen for some serious editing. In my case, this was more of a "get to know you" date. Yes, I've been working on this book for over a year now, but I've been so caught up in the plot (this happens and then this and then this) that I haven't taken the time to look at my main character and see how she has changed over the past few drafts.

What I discovered has made her a far more interesting creature than she was before, when I was treating her as little more than a machine to drive through my prescribed plot elements. And I found it liberating to just "write Lexi." Write about how she feels about her parents, her best friend, her boyfriend. Describe her bedroom, in her voice. Don't worry about creating a scene, and where that scene will fit in the draft, and what it needs to communicate. Just write. I doubt that all of this backstory will actually be used, verbatim, in my next draft, but it was useful to get a glimpse into her character and hear her voice.

Of course, this has taught me the virtue of patience, and how I often exhibit little of it, and how the lack of it often leads to lazy, slap-dash writing. This exercise didn't lead to complete nirvana-esque inspiration, but it did spark a few things. A few little lights in the darkness, and I'll follow wherever they lead me.

Pictured above: Angels climb up – and down – the ladder outside of Bath Abbey. Even angels look over their shoulders as they climb.

i miss history

Walking through the ruins of Hailes Abbey, we listened to an audio tour narrated by fictional monks: "Turn right, and you will enter the room where the monks transcribed their manuscripts" or "the one room of the abbey where the monks were allowed to speak." The lives of Cistercian monks – fascinating! Then we visited Sudeley Castle, where Catherine Parr lived after King Henry's death. It was like visiting old friends (see below, Catherine Howard mannequin in beautiful gown). I am angry at Henry for offing his wives and for destroying the aforementioned Hailes Abbey (for their supposedly false holy relic) but that's not the issue here. It's that…I miss history.

I came home with some ideas for one of the contemporary fantasies I've been working on; these ideas were thanks more to a talk with Tom than the actual surroundings of the trip. I set to work over the weekend, but there was something lacking. I'm feeling very blah about the whole thing. Where are the fascinating details about the setting, her lifestyle, her daily life? Well, there are none. The story is just plot plot plot, with no time for those details, and no interesting details to tell. This is a flaw of the storytelling (meaning: my fault) but it still stands. I want a book that I can fall into, the way I fell into Tudor England. It's not exclusive to historical fiction, of course: I certainly fall into life at Hogwarts when I read Harry Potter novels. I love books that encapsulate a rich world, a way of life.

So maybe this is what I learned on my trip, that I want to start flirting with history, again. Not in a high pressure way, forcing a plot-line onto a particular time period. More like "hey, you're interesting and I would like to spend some time with you." See? No pressure. I have to remember, there was a moment when I wondered if Catherine Howard would be enough to keep my attention. That moment lasted for about five minutes. But still, I can't expect inspiration to strike like a lightning bolt, all doubts thrust aside. But it's time to walk out into the rain and see what happens.

welcome to england

As you know, I recently vacated myself to England. Tom and I packed up our rucksacks, tied gingersnaps into our kerchiefs, boarded a plane and went to a place of rolling green fields and frolicking sheep, weeping willows nodding into duck-filled ponds, sunshine on pink blossoming clematis, ancient oak trees, fields striped with yellow grape seed.

We took our own pilgrimage to Cathedrals and Abbeys (both standing and ruined) and great plugs of earth created by some generous Earth Mother Goddess (the Glastonbury Tor, pictured above). These are places where many feet – sandaled, ancient feet – had walked to receive blessings, to visit the grave of King Arthur or see a vial of Christ's blood (or so the monks assured them). And even more ancient times, the Romans visiting their baths for relaxation, reflection, gossiping, and tossing wishes or curses into the natural hotsprings – a direct message to the goddess (apparently if one's bathing tunic was stolen, a curse on the thief was the next logical step). I have seen so many beautiful things that I felt I couldn't take in any more. I saw beautiful things that made me hungry for more. I have consumed more cream than is advisable for an individual to consume.

I felt bad that I wasn't writing a book out of all of this. I was seeing all of these beautiful things, but I wasn't using any of them in any writerly way. Tom advised me, on our walk up the Glastonbury Tor, "Can't you just let something be awesome?" Then I turned around and saw the view, and couldn't say much of anything anymore.

And now I am back home, with a sleeping puppy by my side. And that's not so bad, either.

it wasn't the crack of dawn. it was earlier.

I got up at about 4 a.m. this morning to watch coverage of the royal wedding. I imagine that none of you are surprised. Me, fascinated by royal things? Big and splendid royal things, with pomp and ceremony and tradition and trumpet fanfares and horse-driven carriages? Yes. Yes I am.

It was worth the early alarm to see all of this happen in real time. Aside from the ridiculous prettiness of it all – from Kate's gown and tiara to William in his uniform to glorious Westminster and that choir boy that Tom dubbed "improbably cute" – this was actual history in the making. History happening in the very house of history…though I'm glad the old wedding vows to "be bonair and buxom at bed and at board" are long gone (King Henry VIII certainly vowed that enough times, and it never did stick).

That said, do I think this is a fairy tale? Nope. My research of a completely different Catherine revealed the darker shades of royal life. That doesn't diminish my excitement about the royal couple and their royal future and my goodness she does look lovely in a tiara…But becoming a princess doesn't seem like a picnic in the sun to me. Still, I hope the very best for William and Kate. They're starting off on a better foot than many who walked that red aisle before them.

i am vacating

As in, going on vacation. Away from here.

Tom and I haven't been on more than a long weekend away in…oh my, a long time. We haven't been out of the country since our research trip to England in 2007. And, guess what? We're heading to England, again! This trip isn't for specific research, it's for…vacating. Searching for inspiration. Or at least drinking a lot of delicious strong English tea and eating clotted cream and a huge ridiculous fried breakfast. Plus, seeing some awesome stuff, too. That's the plan (priorities, people).

So for the first two weeks of May, if you're wondering why I'm being even lazier than usual about blogging, just imagine us wandering around little thatched cottages and petting sheep and other very English things.

Since my writing life has felt on hiatus lately, I've been turning my obsessive focus to my reading to materials. Here's what I've selected for potential vacation reading: The Once and Future King by T.H. White, The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling. This last one because I still get nervous about air travel and I figure this book will be the equivalent of a warm blanket with which to wrap myself if need be.

I feel like I should be reading some more recent YA releases, but I'm overwhelmed by the choices and further overwhelmed by certain topics that may be too close to what I'm working on now. But if you have any suggestions for something light, fun, and easy to read, please let me know. What type of book do you like to pack for vacation reading?

happy (belated) birthdays

Happy belated birthdays to William Shakespeare…

and Vladimir Nabokov…

and Roy Orbison.

Sonnet XXXVIII

How can my muse want subject to invent,

While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse

Thine own sweet argument, too excellent

For every vulgar paper to rehearse?

O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in me

Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;

For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,

When thou thy self dost give invention light?

Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth

Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;

And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth

Eternal numbers to outlive long date.

If my slight muse do please these curious days,

The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

- William Shakespeare

story vs. voice

Sometimes a book starts backwards. That said, I don't know how a book really should start, but here it is: sometimes it starts with a voice, and sometimes with a story (or an idea of a story). Sometimes it starts with both – glorious! But lately I've had either one or the other.

There are a few historical characters I would LOVE to write about. I wake at night gripped by fear that other authors will beat me to it, and that readers will love these stories and say "How clever of so-and-so to tell us this untold tale from this particular point of view! How daring, how divine!" And I will grumble angrily.

So…why haven't I written these books? It's an issue of voice.

I had one project that I started after The King's Rose. It seemed promising: based in history but the characters were fictional, so I had a lot of gaps to fill. It was a fascinating time period, but I struggled with the characters, particularly the main character. I tried writing it in third person because I couldn't figure out the voice of the main character – not a great reason to write in third person, which still needs a narrative style of it's own. The project fell flat for that very reason. No matter how many pages I wrote, the idea remained just an idea, instead of a book.

The other night riding the train home, a voice came to me. Intriguing, but I was suspicious. The plot is murky, and sometimes these things fizzle out when issues of plot get involved. Have you ever had this happen? You write a fantastic first page in a really vivid voice – and you love it! And that page loves you back, it really does. But then when you try to push further, nothing works. You can't sustain that unique voice beyond the first page, and you can't hang a plot on it without the character shrugging it off. So the page remains a page.

But sometimes that voice will lead you where you need to go – be it for ten pages or a thousand. I suppose I owe it to that voice to follow, at least for a little bit.