Writing Wednesday: Make Writing a Habit

Happy New Year everyone! Today I wanted to talk about a very significant lesson that my youngest daughter has taught. Yesterday, she and I reviewed her weekly homework sheet. Every day, my daughter is to read for twenty minutes. She sighed, put on a sad face, hunched her shoulders and went to her room to choose a book from her personal library. Zionne has always had difficulty reading. She mixes up the "b" and the "d." Her short term and active working memory are not really developed where she remembers consonant blends and word clusters. She tries so hard to sound out the words and fails to comprehend what she has read. It breaks my heart to see her struggle with her reading.

I felt really bad for making her read but I told her, "Zionne. In order to become a better reader, you must read regularly." I picked up the book and told her that I would read all the odd page numbers and she can read all the even pages. We continued back and forth for about half an hour. I asked her questions and she seemed to get the gist of what was happening in the Cam Jansen book.

I suddenly had an epiphany. How can I preach to my daughter about the importance of reading regularly when I don't even follow that same principle when it comes to writing. It was an eye-opening experience. I sat at my desk flabbergasted that I, an educator, am making excuses about my writing. I enjoy writing and haven't written a single thing in over two weeks. Yes, life happens but many people have overcome the obstacle of a busy schedule, career, family, etc.

So what I have done is make writing an everyday activity by putting it on my "To Do" list. I plan to make writing a habit. (Thanks Tami!) I don't want to say it is my New Year's Resolution because I never, ever fulfill those. Rather I want to incorporate writing into my day. I am going to use several suggestions made to me. I plan to use my voice recorder on my iPhone 4. I am going to keep a little notepad or small notebook in the car or in my purse. I am going to write for at least 20-30 minutes each day. I think I may even hide in the bathroom for a little privacy.

I know it is going to be challenging but I am optimistic that by just writing a little at a time, I can make it a lifelong habit.

What are some things that you do to make time for writing?

Location! Location! Location!

Apparently, 2011 is the Year of the Writer. Well, it's not official or anything, but judging by the amount of blog titles and general links that have appeared on my Facebook feed in the last week or so, 2011 seems to be THE year to get published. Never has there been so many fledgling authors who are desperate to score their big break.

Of course, with every new year comes a rise in the number of would-be authors, which of course makes it that much more difficult to get that elusive first publishing contract. There are a number of blogs around that have given out advice on how to go about selling your work, so I'm not going to say much on the subject or I'll run the risk of repeating ad nauseum, but something that interests me is the difference between Britain and America when it comes to getting yourself published.

Unless I'm mistaken - which I might be because, well, it's me - if you live in America, you won't get anywhere with your publishing dreams unless you hook yourself an agent, whereas over here in Britain, an agent would be an advantage, but is not really necessary.  Now, that got me thinking... which way is better? If indeed either process is better? When you send your query and sample chapters, they are most likely going to be seen and judged by a single person no matter if it's a huge publishing house or an independent agent. So I don't really see any difference there. And if you are going to be rejected - which, let's face it, is going to happen whether you like it or not - it doesn't make a difference to your disappointment where that rejection comes from.

But it's apparently considered easier to break into the publishing industry in Britain than it is anywhere else in the world. Don't know whether it's because we are a small country, so there are less authors wanting to get out there, but that doesn't seem likely. There's probably a number of authors/ number of publishing houses equation to work this out, but I'm not mathematically inclined so I won't go there. I don't even know how I know that Britain seems to be a good place to live if you want to get published, it's just something I've sort of absorbed through my reading of many blogs.

I've also noticed that if your genre is Sci-fi or fantasy, then you're much more likely to attract interest in your work from an American agent, whereas if you write chick lit, then Britain's the place to be (which is good news for me seeing as the nearest thing I have to a completed novel is a chick lit comedy, though I may have to emigrate if I ever finish the fantasy/myth and magic/questy type novel).

I'm not sure where other genres fall in the 'best' location to publish from because I haven't really looked at anything other than my own genres, but it's definitely something to look into when you are ready to send off your queries.  Maybe it's a bit of a stretch saying that you need to live in a specific country to have a better chance of publishing a specific genre, but I firmly believe it's worth looking at publishing houses and/or agents from Britain and America when you are ready to send off your literary masterpiece. *nods*

Kindle your readers

Originally, I wasn’t much of a fan of the Kindle. I favour books with actual paper; books that can be put in a bookshelf; books I can touch and smell and feel. And yet, upon packing yet another box of bookshelfable, touchy smelly feely paper books for storage, I had to realize that a digital library indeed would save me a lot of space and (since packing was involved) time. Now that I am about to move to another continent, a digital reader would also save me valuable kilos in my already limited suitcase allowance. The device would allow me to be a voracious reader also in Japan, without having to carry a single book (though perhaps one or two in Norwegian, since we don’t do digital books here yet). The Kindle seemed like the perfect Christmas present.

And so it was (thank you, sisters!). Now, many a blog post has been written about the Kindle, so I needn’t comment on its design or functionality – you can find better posts about that elsewhere. What I did want to comment on, though, was what the Kindle does to me as a reader, or perhaps, as a (potential) book buyer.

In a normal bookshop, I’m a slut. I’m easily convinced to buy, and I generally do so based on a few defined criteria. Unless I am looking for a specific title or author, my browsing is often based on looks. Yes, I can be superficial that way. If I don’t like the cover of a book, I most likely won’t pick it up to even find out if I might consider buying it. Once I have picked one up, however, I still haven’t decided if I want to buy it (I’m not that superficial). I read the jacket. I might open it and read the first few pages. Sometimes I open it at a random page just to see if I get the feeling that this is a book I *must* have.

Apparently, I often find that I *must*. At least the number of books I buy per year should indicate so. Thus I thought that getting a Kindle would save me some money, since the Kindle editions of books generally are cheaper than the paper editions.

True, it has saved me money. More than I expected. You see, as a Kindle customer, I am much pickier than I am with paper books.

The lack of a proper cover is probably saving me hundreds of dollars alone. Sure, you’ve got the cover photo (mostly), but it’s not the same. It’s certainly never sufficient to make me want to buy a book.

More importantly, however, is the “download a sample” function. If you’re not a Kindle owner yourself, allow me to quickly explain: Each book (or perhaps most of them? Every one I’ve so far encountered, anyway) allows a potential buyer to download a sample for free. The length of the sample varies slightly from book to book, but it is generally the first chapter or so. It is always the beginning of the book, and depending on how the edition is made, it sometimes starts directly at the first page of the story, though occasionally the front page and printing information is included in the preview.

The problem – and/or benefit – of this system is that the reader is not free to choose what part of the book she gets to read. The first pages of a book aren’t necessarily (or even commonly) the best or most exciting, even if they are important. A thumb rule for any writer is that the start of a book needs a hook to tie the reader in. With Kindle’s free samples, this becomes more important than ever.

The free sample function ensures that the preview becomes very decisive for which books a reader eventually buys (I have yet to buy a book without downloading the sample). With the option of starting to read a book before downloading and paying for it, it takes a lot more before I actually end up buying it. For regular books, I might find the first ten pages boring, but still read on, because after all I’ve already purchased the book, and it would be a waste to put it down. Often I find that the book captures me after all, and that the missing “hook” on the first few pages isn’t all that important. In a Kindle edition, however, this is fatal. If the sample doesn’t convince me, I will most certainly not bother buying the book, just to see if I eventually will like it.

What this means is that for writers it becomes even more important to focus on a strong start to sell books. I envision that Kindle-friendly versions, where a cliff-hanger will come directly at the end of the free preview, will soon be common. Otherwise, how can a writer catch a reader who has an entire library at her disposal, just a few clicks away?

Rebel Roots

I WIN!

What, you ask have I won? I am the first Burrower who gets to blog after we learned that we have a BRAND NEW BURROWER! And I am SO EXCITED! We haven't had a new Burrower since... 2008? I think that's right. Long time, anyway... We got to a good size and didn't want to grow out of our ability to help each other out, so we sat at that size... but as some lives get busy and people found other interests (or more often, life demanded time), we found we were shrinking again. This person is someone we met when I first started blogging (I found her on Elizabeth's page, I think) and fell in love with her style... she is calm and wise, but still playful and fun. Well, I wasn't the only Burrower to fall in love as we've gotten to know her, so in other conversations along the way there was an "I think we should ask Jan to join the Burrow"-- and she has agreed! So WELCOME JAN! There have been no logistic discussions about whether she wants to join the blog schedule (she manages two, which may very well be plenty, but we hope so). We will keep you informed.


Okay... now to the blog... My Rebel Roots...

So some of you might know I have rules issues, ne? Heck, I won't even stick to real words (though I do generally prefer proper grammar). I don't like to do what I'm told and only periodically want to do what is good for me. Well, I have a family story that might add just a little insight to this...

You see, if you follow my paternal line... 8 generations back... you arrive at a disgruntled sailor, unhappy to be at his majesty's service on a Navy ship during the War of 1812... He was Welsh. And he mighta been a Roper, or he mighta been an Alcott... there were two rebels aboard his ship, and we don't know which he was... what we KNOW is when they reached the shores of Nova Scotia (funny, that's where Jan is from... seems fitting), this man said "POO!" to Georgie 3, and changed his name to William Hart.

He married, had two sons, and moved with his family across the national border, settling in Caribou, Maine, possibly proving he wasn't right in the head--this is the farthest north US city aside from Alaska. His son who continues my line, as an adult, signed up for the Vermont Sharp Shooters in the Civil War, and moved after that to Wisconsin. Wisconsin was MISERABLE humid (everybody knows that) and HIS SON had a child with lung trouble (probably asthma) and so they moved all the way across the country... San Francisco, Tacoma... and finally decided if they really needed dry air, they'd move inland. Evard Hart was the relative to settle in Moscow, Idaho at the base of Moscow Mountain [photo stolen from website of said class, but I claim it as my right, as my mother was in that class]... the family homestead... I want to say they arrived around 1910.... mighta been a little earlier... my own grandfather was born there in 1913 (and his story is a tear-jerker, but you'll have to wait until I'm in my 60s to hear that story... I plan to write it, but while various participants are still living, it isn't my right).

Anyway... since we're in Moscow and all...

This is where I was born and lived until I was 18. It only had about 14,000 people at the time. The University of Idaho was the biggest employer, but the second largest source of income was farming... strange combo, that... farming university town... This (well--WSU, 6 miles away claims it, but it's all the same) is the area that FOUNDED Hurray Hurray the 8th of May. And you know... I really LIKE the people I grew up with--it is a GREAT bunch... Twisted? Yes, mostly. Lots of gutter minds... It IS home, after all... But interesting and fun. It was a darned good place to grow up. (Look how pretty it is this winter: photo by Arick Branen-a friend from the class behind me in high school)

But I'm glad I didn't stay... see, a hometown has a way of resisting our growth, and I had GROWING to do (and shrinking, but never mind). My mom had a rule when I was looking at colleges... I could go away, but it needed to be a drivable distance (like in a day)... Which meant I could go to any college in Washington, Idaho, Montana, or Oregon, pretty much... (my mom reminded me Sunday I really wanted to go to the University of Colorado, but she worked hard to discourage me--I'd plum forgotten, though I'd remembered my affinity for Boulder--one of those oddnesses, considering I've never been there.) I don't remember if I applied to UW or not. I think I'd crossed it off before applications were due. What I REMEMBER was it was finally narrowed down to Willamette University (a private liberal arts school in Salem) and the University of Oregon... Mom and I set off to see...

Boring pretty brick conservative liberal arts college (can I say that? I mean CONSERVATIVE so far as activity, and LIBERAL so far as curriculum... is that allowed?) versus...

University of Oregon

When we drove onto campus, guess what was going on... A STREET FAIR. There was live outdoor music, people dancing in their tie-dyes, food booths... a GRAPH up 13th, on the 'no driving' part of campus of the Reagan budget (education was about 2 feet, defense ran the whole block)... it looked so FUN!!! Easy decision where I belonged!
[picture permission]

Of course to rebel among rebels, I had to join a sorority (far be it for ME to do anything conformist). I LOVED my UO years...

And I think I will stop here...... I can do my adult bits later (well not the bits... you know about me and bits, right?).

BUT... you are all being assigned to watch the BCS Football Game Monday night where my Oregon Ducks play for the national championship in football! (that would be American football... and college age players... for those of you not clear on how it works)

So there.

Odds are...

For the benefit of those of you who do not live in the United States, a little background:

This week, the MegaMillions jackpot went through the roof. By the time the drawing happened on Tuesday, it was up around $350 million. It doesn't matter that pounds and euros are worth more than dollars, that's a lot of loot.

Back up a little farther:

Hey, new year! All right, let's hope 2011 is way better than 2010! Right? Right?

Uh, no. At least not in my house. At least not so far. On the evening of the 2nd, I got home from work around 7:45 PM and, finding a parking space on the corner by my house, went to shift into reverse to back into it. Except my gearshift just went slithering on past and decided to refuse to shift into any gear at all, settling into park with a decidedly smug little "clunk". Well, bugger. Mechanics aren't open on Sunday nights. So had to call my roommate (to try and push the car back into the space and out of the intersection - no luck), AAA (to get a tow to the mechanic), best friend to try and borrow her car so I could get to work the next morning (she needed it, but was willing to give me a ride)... ugh. However, we managed to steam up the inside of the car pretty well while doing all this talking and waiting for the tow truck...

I swear there's a "K" on the end of that, you just can't see it in the photo. Anyway, finally got the car to the mechanic, roommate had followed to get me home again, and we gave the evening up as a bad job and went to the Scottish pub. When we finally got home, we got scared half to death by the premature return of roomie #3 (two days early), but oh well.

Monday, well, I had all the getting-rides-places stuff worked out, but was out all day. Got home to discover that roommate's computer had rung up the curtain and joined the choir invisible, about which she was understandably rather upset. Other roommate dissected it (being all techy-geeky and stuff) and managed to salvage most of the files, but there was definitely a new computer needed. So when she went to pick that up, she parked in what appeared to be a perfectly legal spot... except, oh, you know what, there's supposed to be a "commercial loading zone" sign there but it blew away in the blizzard and they haven't replaced it yet. This being Boston, the car was ticketed and towed within half an hour.

So is it any wonder we went and bought lottery tickets? Really, with all the unexpected expenditures, how can anyone pass up a chance to try and win some money? Now, we're intelligent people here (it may be Nerd Central, but we're not complete idiots) - I frequently quote... errrr... somebody-or-other and say that the lottery is a tax for people who are bad at math, but SOMEBODY has to win the damned thing, so why not us? We amused ourselves with grandiose plans, including paying off student loans and credit cards and parents' mortgages, getting new cars (a flashy one and a little gas-efficient one), buying a castle in Scotland (no, I wasn't the only one who had that on her list), getting a hedgehog (okay, I was the only one with that on her list)...

You know how this ends, right?

Yeah. Out of all our tickets, we managed to match ONE NUMBER. So all those dreams of suddenly having enough money? I can't think of much that's more delusional than that!

Stating the Obvious: Guest Elizabeth Spann Craig

I would start by introducing Elizabeth, but I expect more of you know HER than me… so maybe I’ll tell a little tale on myself having to do with Elizabeth… When I first decided it was time to blog because… you know… a writer trying to get published is supposed to do that, I tried to find some writing blogs, but a lot of them were really intimidating… people were so professional and knew so much more than I did… but when I ran across Mystery Writing is Murder, that same great informative stuff was FRIENDLY. The comments glowed—she responded to all of them… so I decided to follow Elizabeth around. I followed a bunch of her commenters (and they followed back!) I checked out the blogs in her blog roll (and they were great!) and so, while my style and hers are very different (me being a nudist and all) I started emulating the LOGISTICS of what she was doing… I’ve never been sorry. Elizabeth and I have become good friends and I look to her as a mentor of sorts (even if I’m older)—she actually gave me my push toward Cozy Mystery, which has been an amazing new facet of my writing (and the one that has come most naturally to me).

So when the Burrow talked about a guest for ‘Writing Wednesday’, Elizabeth was a fabulous fit. We gave her short notice, so she let us borrow one of her classic posts, and it is as always, a fabulous scene, followed by the writing lesson, as she so brilliantly displays on a regular basis…

Stating the Obvious by Elizabeth Spann Craig

To me, the best time to clean out the car is at the
gas station.

So, one Saturday, I busily pulled handfuls of camp newsletters, empty sandwich baggies, empty sunscreen bottles, a cardboard box, etc., out of my car while it was filling up with gas. (Yes, this was clutter that had collected in the few days since I’d last fueled up.)

There was a man at the pump behind me who apparently watched me as I cleaned. I didn’t pay attention to him at first, but then—after making several trips from the inside of the car to the trash can—I noticed that he was smirking at me.

I realized that I'd pulled a prodigious amount of paper trash from my car. In fact, I’d filled up half the can. I smiled weakly at him. “I…uh…have kids,” I said.

“Noooooo. Really?” he asked.

His sarcasm earned him a glare, but I had to admit he had a point. Who else but a parent would be driving a minivan that seats seven people? That has a bumper sticker on the back emblazoned with the name of an elementary school? That has a booster seat in the middle row, easily visible through the open, sliding door?
I’d stated the obvious and he’d called me on it.

When I first started writing fiction, I found it really easy to use unnecessary adverbs—frequently in dialogue. You know: '’he said, knowingly’ and ‘she retorted angrily.’ Then I realized I could just show that the man was a know-it-all by what he was saying: “Actually, the circumference of an ellipse is determined by finding the complete elliptic integral of the second kind.” And I could show that the woman was angry by what she was saying. “Good for you. But do you know where the laundry hamper is? Because the gym socks lying on the floor are the reason we’re arguing.”

If you'd rather show tension via body language, you could have him smirk. Or he could heave a long suffering sigh. She could have tightly pressed lips or bunched shoulders.

Of course, it’s not always better to show instead of tell. Action scenes are perfect for telling. And I’m definitely a fan of a strong adverb, as long as there aren’t so many that I get distracted as a reader.

But when we state the obvious, we’re selling our readers short. They can tell how our characters are feeling by their body language and dialogue. And they get to feel really clever about figuring a situation or a character out for themselves. The last thing I want is to have a reader put down my book with a “Nooooooo. Really?”

Elizabeth writes the Memphis Barbeque series for Penguin as Riley Adams and the Myrtle Clover series for Midnight Ink (under her own name). As the mother of two, Elizabeth writes on the run as she juggles duties as scout leader, referees play dates, drives carpools, and is dragged along as a hostage/chaperone on field trips.

Twitter: @elizabethscraig
Mystery Writing is Murder

[Tart note:  if you are not already following Elizabeth, you should be]

Burqa Sales on the Rise

On the First Day of the New Decade, the first thing I read were these headlines on the front page of the newspaper - Burqa sale on the rise in Old City


Though I try to deny her existance, there is a dormant feminist in me, who reacted immediately, and adversely. And we try to delude ourselves that the nation is progressing, while what we are actually doing is regressing back to the Medivial Ages. Grrrrr, grrrrr, grrrrr [insert picture of snarling cat, clawing through the computer screen].

The first paragraph of the article only confirmed my reaction -

The Shahran market near Charminar has undergone a curious change in the last few years. A string of new shops that have surfaced in this bazar sell only burqas. From 20-odd shops in 2002, there are 80 burqa stores here and traders say business was never so good.

In what appears to be a reality check on the perception that women are stepping out of the burqa in Hyderabad, traders say that an increasing number of women, most of them young girls, are choosing to don the garment......

To say I was disappointed was an understatement. There is a government-run school in my neighbourhood, and I always felt good seeing the number of Muslim girls from lower income households attending that school. In fact, I always thought it ironical that in the more conservative lower-income Muslim families, the girls ended up getting a better education than the boys, simply because their families did not want to spend money to send them to the Islamic madrassas.

I always hoped that the generation of Muslim girls getting a good education would bring about a change in the mindset of the community, which would enable the economically backward community enter the social and economic mainstream of the nation. With better education leading to better job opportunities, Muslim youth would not longer be lured by the cheap promises of people supposedly fighting for the religion. In a generation, or a generation and a half, I dared hope for a natural end to terrorism and communal violence.

But here was proof that I was living in foolish daydream of my own construction. "The sale of burqas have never been as good". The words gnawed at my heart- could the year have started off on a worse note than by dashing one of my dreams? I was tempted to chuck the newspaper across the room, and think more positive thoughts.

But my eyes are conditioned to read, even if the brain tells them not to. I read on-

While they say the reasons for this trend range from religious beliefs to some even trying to make a fashion statement, social observers say the improving sales of burqa are rooted in a radical change that the Old City is undergoing - an increasing emphasis on the education of girl child.

Things started falling into place. How did I know that there were so many Muslim girls attending the school near my place? Simply because their heads were covered. And if their heads were covered, they presumably bought their veils somewhere, and naturally that meant increased sales.

Suddenly the statistics started looking good. If the number of shops selling burqas has gone up four time, that means there are at least four times more girls stepping out of the house than there were a decade back. Which means a larger number of girls going in for higher studies, and taking up jobs outside the home. Which means social change on a scale that one cannot otherwise contemplate.

By just looking deeper, the first article I read in the new Decade metamorphosised from one of abject despair to one of great hope.

A feminist may still question why society should decree that a girl be veiled. A feminist would definitely try to get the veiled girl to shed the veil. But I am not a feminist. To me, it is enough that girls are stepping out of the home and getting an education. A veil matters much less than your attitude.

And educated, empowered girl will raise a healthier, happier family than her less educated mother, and enough of them will bring about real change.

There is Hope still.