National Novel Writing Month -- Update 6

So, this is my last update for National Novel Writing Month in 2016. It was a good ride as I wrote and discovered Searching for Rachel Edelstein.

The good news is that I found her and, more importantly, so did Rachel.

It is the story of a black Jewish woman from New York City who has been estranged from her black relatives in Virginia for her entire life. And as she seeks to understand her dual racial and religious heritage, she visits her black family outside of Charlottesville for the first time over a Thanksgiving weekend.

Also, the other good news is I reached the 50,000-word challenge of NaNoWriMo, as I have four other times since 2009. And two of those novels, once totally re-written, have made the rounds in my agent search. And while I haven't landed an agent or a publisher for either, they are quite good enough for publication, whether independently or traditionally published.

The bad news this year is that I am still very unsatisfied with Searching for Rachel Edelstein. Even as a first draft, it is choppy, inconsistent and full of holes. I originally had Rachel's Jewish grandfather traveling with her down to Virginia, only to change my mind midway through the novel. I also changed the parents of one minor but key character midway through the novel.

And there were other problems. Then again, that is what a first draft is for -- to get the story down and to later re-write, re-write and re-write again until the story is nearly perfect. I shouldn't be too hard on myself with this effort. But that re-writing, however, will have to wait until some time next year. I have work on my plate to perfect first.

Anyway, thanks for joining me this month. It's been a blast. Let's do it again next November.

Thanks for reading.

Which Hogwarts House would I be in?

Yes, yes, yes -- I know I should have spent the time writing. It is, after all, the closing days of National Novel Writing Month and I haven't reached 50,000 words yet. But I'm close so I decided not to sweat it. Didn't write yesterday because it was Thanksgiving, nor today because we went shopping.

But I am close and still have time. Plus, deadline pressure is good.

So, what did I do this evening? Went to see Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It was good and fun. I enjoyed it.

When I returned home and did some research relating to the world of Harry Potter, I finally decided to test which house I would be sorted into at Hogwarts. (Personally, I have always preferred Gryffindor.)

I took three separate online tests and two of the three revealed I'd be in . . .

GRYFFINDOR.

Although just barely. According to the scoring in both instances, I'd just barely be a Gryffindor and just outside of Ravenclaw. In fact, in the one test in which I wasn't a Gryffindor, I was a Ravenclaw.

So, in the end, I would probably end up in Gryffindor because the Sorting Hat would also take my choice into account. Chivalry, bravery and daring. That sound like me? I'm probably more like Neville Longbottom than Harry.

Now, for all you people who haven't read Harry Potter nor have seen any of the films, you don't know what I'm talking about and probably don't care. (Muggles!) And so for you, I will get back to my last blog of the month when I again talk about NaNoWriMo.

But for everyone else, I know you understand.

And for everybody, thanks for reading.

National Novel Writing Month -- Update 5

Not done yet, with just a week to go in National Novel Writing Month, but I'm closing it. The challenge is to reach 50,000 words in the 30 days of November. I'm more than 85 percent of the way there. Therefore, Searching for Rachel Edelstein is coming to an end. And believe me, I will close it out somewhere just north of 50,000 words.

I'm tired of, on the fly, coming up with what's next to write.

As I look back at this month, I wish I had thought and planned more in advance. It would have made the writing easier. I have long since written past the notes I outlined for the story and so every day I face the challenge of what's next.

By temperament as a writer, I am a pantster -- someone who writes by the seat of the pants -- as  opposed to being a plotter, who does a lot of planning or outlining before writing. I like it because as a pantster, I discover the novel in much the same way a reader would. I like to be surprised by details as I go along.

But with that approach it would take me at least three or four months to write a first draft, and probably longer than that. My first novel -- Fighting Chaos, which gave its name to this blog, took me more than a decade to write. And it's still dreadful.

The second one took four and a half months. Better but not nearly as good as it can, and should, be.

So, I like NaNoWriMo because I can get the first draft done and on paper quickly. But I can't do that much writing so quickly without some planning ahead. I write out pages of notes and use them as a guide day by day.

I wrote notes this year, have hardly looked at them, and now have written well past them. I have to do better next year.

But that is for 2017. I just need to get Rachel done this year. So I must get back on it.

Thanks for reading.







  

National Novel Writing Month -- Update 4

Well, I've reached 30,000 words, which I wanted to do last night but ran out of steam and out of time. But I'm there, more than 60 percent done.

I've figured out the end but haven't figured out yet how to get there so I just keep plugging away. I am totally beyond what little of the story I outlined last month. But the good thing is I'm discovering little pieces of interesting information about my characters as I go along.

For exchange, Rachel, the main character in Searching for Rachel Edelstein (isn't that amazing?), loves mac and cheese. She uses her mother's long-held recipe, since her maternal grandmother was a horrible cook.

The plot of the story involves Rachel, who is from New York, going to Virginia to meet her estranged family on her father's side. And while she is there over Thanksgiving, she'll learn that the mac and cheese recipe her mother used was actually from her father's mother, who Rachel just met for the first time.

The recipe is a small thing -- and hasn't been revealed yet in the novel. It comes later -- but I only discovered it while writing. I never would have thought of that while I was writing an outline.

Anyway, that's it for now. Not sure who reads these updates but here it is.

Thanks for reading.

  

National Novel Writing Month -- Update 3

Oh my goodness, I just made myself cry. Damn, I hope this stuff is good. I'm too close to it to know for sure.

I just wrote the scene where my main character, Rachel, a black Jewish woman from New York, meets her paternal grandmother in Virginia for the first time. It was more emotional than I thought.

But then again, I am playing the theme from Love Actually in the background, so that -- and not my writing ability -- could be the reason I shed a tear or two.
  
It's been a slow week and while I'm still on pace to reach 50,000 words by the end of the month, I am far behind my personal goal. I know the important thing about NaNoWriMo is writing but word count is always important to me. I know this first draft will be crappy. I accept that. But it will have -- or should have -- all the elements I will need whenever I get around to re-writing it. And I hope this new scene survives in the re-writes. It feels good.

You can't improve your writing until you write it. And so, I will plunge forward, hoping to up my pace so that I can finish close to my personal due date.

Thanks for reading.

 

National Novel Writing Month -- Update 2

Took a day off from working on the novel yesterday because it was Election Day. But in the end, I wasted a day.

Oh well . . .

Maybe now I should just write fiction non-stop, 24/7, for the next four years.

Thanks for reading.



 

National Novel Writing Month -- update

It's Day 4 of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and the average target for today would be to reach 6,668 words. But I have been ahead of schedule since Day 1, which is the only way I can do NaNoWriMo, and I just passed 10,000 words this afternoon.

Ahead of schedule, of course, but lagging slightly behind my personal goal. No matter. It is an achievement so far and the day isn't over. There's more writing to do.

I am discovering some interesting things about my characters, which is good. Just not sure all of it should be in the novel. But that's a judgment for the second and subsequent drafts. This is just the first draft and I need to get it down.

Tally-ho.

Thanks for reading.

National Novel Writing Month

It's nearly that time again. November. National Novel Writing Month.

Let the games begin.

I first signed up for NaNoWriMo in 2009 and since then, I have finished four novels -- in 2009 and 2010, and 2013 and 2014. I wasn't able to do a novel last year because I had a serious car accident in late October which resulted in a bandaged left hand. It was difficult for me to type while it was on and it came off too late in November for me to feel confident of a successful NaNoWriMo attempt.

I haven't definitely decided to enter this year -- there's a lot going on here and I should remain focused on selling one of the novels I have already finished -- but I have two in mind. The most likely of the two is about Rachel Edelstein.

Rachel is the main character in my successful 2010 NaNo attempt -- The Last Tontine Survivor. And it was a quarterfinalist in the 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. That novel focused on Rachel, a black Jewish woman in NYC, who is searching for her missed and beloved grandfather, a German Jew who survived WWII. But he and others stole money from the Nazis and now, 70 years later, the descendants of a former Nazi official are looking to get the money back -- and are willing to kill to get it. With her pursuers on her tail, Rachel must find her grandfather and save him before they are both killed.

Rachel's ethnic duality (and her conflicted feelings about it) is part of the subplot but will be part of the main plot of his newest effort. I tentatively call it Searching for Rachel Edelstein.

More about that later. But for now, I just wanted to put it out there that I will probably attempt a novel this November.

Wish me luck.

Thanks for reading.

Visiting a bookstore

Spent part of the last two days visiting bookstores, including a couple of independent stores. And I bought a couple of books.

Being at a bookstore is a great way to spend part of the day.

I highly recommend it.

Thanks for reading. Now head off to a bookstore.

FAM front cover

Here it is. The final, corrected front cover for The Fine Art of Murder, which will be published at the beginning of next month. Preorders are available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and online at Walmart.

FAM is a collection of mystery stories by members of the Speed City Indiana chapter of Sisters in Crime. The collection includes my Kendall Hunter short story, Callipygian.

The official book launch is from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. on Sunday, Oct. 9, at the Barnes and Noble bookstore at 86th Street and Keystone Avenue, on the north east side of Indianapolis. The chapter is celebrating a Day of Mystery at the store that day, starting at noon. While the launch is at 2 p.m., SinC members will be there all day signing books, and having games and prizes for mystery lovers.

Hope you can come out to celebrate this newest anthology. The proceeds will support the programs of our chapter.

Thanks for reading.   

WHAAAT? That can't be right!

I was in Alexandria, Va., last week in the same hotel -- Hotel Monaco on King Street -- where I stayed in August 2015. During my stay last year, I posted something on Facebook about my experience right after I arrived. And I decided on the one-year anniversary of that FB post, I'd revisit it and share it with you on my blog. It's not so much about writing as it is an experience.

It was a worrisome and stressful situation in 2015 but read what I wrote to the end. While it could use a little editing and tightening in places, it expressed how I was feeling at the time. I could re-write it but decided not to.

So here it is, from Aug. 25, 2015. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading.

******
So we had just registered in a hotel, some 600 miles from home, and were getting off the elevator on the way to the room when my cell phone rang. It was my dad. Now I told him I would be away – we discussed it yesterday – and I called him before I boarded the plane this morning. But when he called, he sounded confused, said he wasn’t feeling well and wanted me to come over. He sounded scared, which scared me. I told him to call 911 – there’s a hospital a half mile from his house – and I started trying to reach relatives back home.

To make a long story short, he’s okay. Medical personnel at the hospital checked him out and he’s okay, except somewhat dehydrated. I spent more than two hours trying to remain calm and keeping my worry at bay. And I’m grateful to my Uncle Arthur, Aunt Sharron, cousins Turae and Eric, and brother David for checking on my dad and keeping me informed as I considered the difficulty and possible costs of ending my trip and going home.

It was beautiful outside today and not too hot. There was no reason to sit around doing nothing but worrying while we waited to hear from relatives back home. So Angela and I went to have lunch, settling on a French-style café in the next block, where we sat at an outdoor table and enjoyed a couple of salads and watched the foot and vehicular traffic.

It was warm and pretty outside, and news was good from back home. But despite an exterior calm that I had been keeping for some time, I struggled getting my emotions in check. I felt stressed and couldn’t return to feeling normal.

 Then, I looked up at a passing truck for a food company called Warner (I think). And on the side of the truck was a picture of a grandmotherly looking woman and under the picture it mentioned something about recipes from Aunt Pussy.

WHAAAT? That can’t be right! Aunt Pussy?

I blinked and looked again. It really said Aunt Peggy.

So I also want to thank the Warner company and Aunt Peggy. They brought a smile to my face and lightened my mood.

Aunt Peggy, indeed.

Don't make me come over there

WARNING: I gonna get real up in here and so all my Christian readers may want to cover their ears or look away. I just saying . . .

I was in Alexandria, Va., all week, and just got back today. Had a good time. Ate well, even had a couple of glasses of champagne from the bottle the management at the Hotel Monaco sent up for our wedding anniversary. (Last time I had a drink was about three years ago.) Walked around a lot, shopped, did tourist-y things, took a boat ride on the Potomac River, went to Ben's Chilli Bowl (one of my favorite places in Washington).

Generally slept late because, after a day of just fun, I usually wrote well into the night. So it was a good time all around.

After one last walk around Alexandria today, we left for the airport, Reagan National. When we got to the departure gate, there were people standing around everywhere. The flight was both delayed and over-booked. When asked, we opted to take a later flight, which allowed a young mother from Carmel, Ind., to make the flight home. But in the end, the airline also got us on the flight we were originally scheduled to take. We departed about 45 minutes late.

It took a while to get to the runway because we were following a number of other flights out and authorities were using that same runway for incoming flights from the south that was used for departing flights taking off to the north.

When we were second in line to leave, a Southwest flight landed. And as the US Air flight ahead of us moved onto the runway, a guy on our plane across the aisle from me said, in a voice loud enough for everyone on the plane to hear above the sound of the jet engines, "This fucking airline sucks."

What did he just say? I couldn't believe it.

In this day and age, when people are normally nervous about anything out of the ordinary happening at an airport or on a plane, thinking it could be the prelude to a terrorist attack, this jerk decided to get big and bad and loud. All over a situation which, for the most part, wasn't the airline's fault.

I looked across the aisle and said, "Don't make me come over there and bitch slap your sorry ass and then throw your fat ass out onto the tarmac so we can all get going."

Well, I actually only said that it my head. Aloud, I said nothing. I did what everyone else near him did; stared at him with death beams coming out of our eyes.

I'm a fiction writer, as you know, but some of the best stuff I get is real, such as with this jerk. This situation isn't much but it would be a great part in a short story. The fat guy who gets thrown from the back of a plane. Didn't happen but everyone of the plane probably wished it did. And as a writer, I can make that wish come true.

Man, it's great to be a writer. Because the only limitation is one's imagination.

Now what I should have said . . .

Well, maybe next time. But for now, thanks for reading.



  

A long sentence

A long sentence isn't necessarily a better sentence. Often times, it's just a long sentence.

Word.

Thanks for reading. Now get back to writing.

The ending

Last week, I wrote about the beginning of a novel or short story. Or more specifically, I wrote about the sentence that comes AFTER the first sentence, the second sentence, which must also be a grabber and keep grabbing.

Today, I want to skip past the beginning, over the middle, and go straight to the ending. Because it is the ending that the reader will most likely remember first.

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking to a fan of my short story Miss Hattie Mae's Secret. She loved the beginning and, I admit, I do, too. Of all my published and unpublished fiction, it is perhaps my favorite opening. (As I posted last Aug. 1, in this blog, the first two paragraphs have a total of only five words. ["Miss Hattie Mae Farted. Often."] It is minimalist to say the least.) But the reader, who enjoyed the story, was upset with the ending. She wondered what happened next. And, in not knowing, was somewhat vexed.

(For those of you who haven't read the entire story, it ends with the county sheriff coming to visit Miss Hattie Mae to discuss the newly unearthed secret that she has kept for eight decades.)

One of the goals in writing, particularly in genre fiction such as mysteries which I write, is to tie up loose ends. Miss Hattie Mae's Secret started and ended with her, all 95 years of age, on the porch and farting. I originally planned to write more but when I got to that point I stopped because I thought I said all that needed to be said. Anything further I left to the reader.

In all stories, real and fictional, something happens before the point where the writer begins the story and something happens after the story ends. Fictional life, as in real life, is part of a continuum and the writer, almost arbitrarily, begins and ends the telling wherever they choose.

But as a writer, you do want to leave the reader satisfied at the end. Otherwise, they may feel like they wasted their time. You don't want to do that. Case in point, my favorite book from last year. The Martian. I loved the story and enjoyed the book. And, having read it several times, do not think I wasted my time. But I wasn't thrilled with the ending, which was just after Mark Watney is rescued and is beginning his seven-month journey home. The movie, I think, did it better. It ends with Mark back on earth and training new NASA recruits on survival.

I think I approach an ending in fiction the way I always did as a daily journalist. When I got to the end, I stopped writing. When you have said it all, just stop.

And so it is with this.

Thanks for reading.

The end.





   

 

After the opening line, what comes next?

So, what's the next line?

From writers to editors, from agents to teachers and writing coaches, from publishers to Internet bloggers, everyone in the writing and publishing industry stresses the importance of a good opening line. It's almost as if you don't nail the opening line, you might as well give up and go home. While I doubt readers care as much about this as writers do, I don't doubt its importance, which is why I -- like so many writers -- sweat that first line.

Oddly, we don't tend to get as insane with what comes next -- the second line. And why not?

That question came to mind thanks to a friend and former colleague.

The venerable sage Joe Boyce was a Chicago cop back in the late 1960s -- sit back and contemplate that for a second. A black cop in Chicago in the late 60s -- before getting the journalism bug. He spent time at the Chicago Tribune before heading off to Time magazine, and then finally to the Wall Street Journal before retiring. He's a musician now and enjoying retirement.

Last month, on his Facebook page, he started posting a one-sentence prompt -- the opening sentence -- and asked his friends to write the next line. But one line only.

Some people wrote an interesting sentence, full of thought, full of promise. But frankly, some people wrote unimaginative, boring stuff. They seemed to give it no thought at all. And other people failed to read his instructions fully and wrote more than one sentence.

But I took it seriously. And I followed Joe's  instructions.

Regardless of the prompt, I tried to write something as compelling as the first sentence. Because it's the next sentence and the next sentence and the next that makes for good, consistent writing and storytelling. I knew that, of course, but Joe just reminded me of it. Your writing can lose a reader at any point. Therefore, the next sentence is always important.

So, Joseph, thank you, as always, for keeping it real.

And to everyone else, thanks for reading. And keep writing.

Oh F**k, I just said a bad word!

Generally, I try not to post something I'd be embarrassed that a member of my conservative, evangelical church might see. I don't want to be thought of as a heathen or a heretic. I'm neither.

But sometimes, I just have to say what I truly think and feel. So brace yourself. Here it is.

WTF does it take to get an agent? (No, I'm not an idiot. I know what WTF means. It's the point of this post.) Yes, I have written about this before and I am again because I have yet to find a satisfactory answer. I have listened to people's advice, I have attended writers conferences, read countless blogs, magazine articles and books, networked and talked to magazine editors, and discussed the matter with friends, both published and unpublished.

And I have prayed -- and not as an afterthought.

I have done virtually everything I can think of. I have followed advice, re-written query letters numerous times, followed the instructions of individual agents to the letter and still -- nothing! I'm polite and businesslike, and would not send out a query on a work that isn't ready. Or certainly as ready as I can make it.

I write well. I'm not a hack. And I have a couple of manuscripts that are ready to go to the next level. But, I swear, for the life of me, I can't get an agent to piss on my butt if it was on fire. What am I doing wrong?

I'm a good person, I really am (although I know that's exactly what a bad person would also say). I'm happy when one of my writer-friends gets a new agent or, even better, a publishing contract. I know the hard work it took to get there. I am willing to do the hard work. I have been doing the hard work.

But it's frustrating because I must be doing something wrong, although I don't know what it is and don't have someone in the industry to tell me what that is.

Perhaps my writing or storytelling is crap. I don't think so but what the fuck does it take for some useful insight. Because right now I truly don't know.

But what I do know is that I'm not giving up, despite the frustration and occasional anger and cursing. I know that at the end of this century a couple of my novels will be on the list of the Best 100 books of the 21st Century. I just would like a sign of that eventuality in my lifetime.

Thanks for reading and don't give up.    

Contradictory feelings

It's a strange thing. When I finish a novel or short story, I feel excited about what I have just done. I'm sure it reads well. But at the same time, I am gripped by a incredible insecurity about my writing.

It's a contradiction.

But then I get comments from those whose opinions I trust -- both good and bad opinions. And while offering suggestions for improvements, they are always encouraging of my progress as a writer.

So, I feel better and keep writing.

Anyway, I decided to let you in on a little of my insecurities. Have a good day and keep writing.

So much work to do

I have so much work to do today, and for the rest of this week, in fact. I am editing a couple of stories for an anthology, writing a short story, completing work on a newsletter -- deadline was last Friday -- and lining up interviews for a writing project I am doing. Plus, I have to look for work to do in the fall.

On top of all that, there are still query letters to write. It never seems to stop.

But I should have a little rest in a couple of weeks when we go on vacation for a week. Yes, I will still do some writing. That never stops. And while I am gone I plan one, and possibly two, meetings with potential clients. Even if nothing comes from that, the tax write-off will help pay for part of my vacation. And if something comes of it, all the better.

So, I must get back to work. Time's a-wastin'.

Thanks for reading and keep writing.

It's been a busy couple of weeks

It's been a busy couple of weeks, and not necessarily in a good way.

We had a lot of work to do helping my daughter complete an online phy ed class in order for her to graduate from high school with the rest of her class on the Saturday before Memorial Day. After four years of high school, it was only done with 20 minutes to go.

Bit of a calm for a week -- during which time I sent out some query letters -- then preparation was in full swing for my daughter's graduation open house. (That's all the rage now, apparently.) Lots of yard work everyday -- the good thing is there are a lot fewer weeds in the back yard -- that we finished just prior to her party.

In the week leading up to the party, we learned that my dad's oldest sister, which was 87, had suffered a couple of strokes and wasn't expected to live. She died the day before my daughter's open house. My aunt was very close to my dad and was the first of his six siblings to die. It hit him very hard.

I was also working on some of the final details of the weeklong High School Multimedia Workshop that the Indianapolis Association of Black Journalists sponsors at Butler University.

The next week, which was last week, I worried about my dad and prepared for a two-day trip to my daughter's college for freshman orientation. That was last Wednesday and Thursday. I was back on Friday but, exhausted from the trip, I didn't work. (I also learned that day that the mother of one of my closest friends had just died -- yet another blow to my heart.)

I originally thought my aunt's funeral would be in Texas, where she had been living for the last six years. But her children, my cousins, decided it would be here in Indiana where she had spent the majority of her life. So there was lots of family obligations over last weekend. The funeral service, which was beautiful and classy -- like my aunt -- and blessedly short, was two days ago on Monday.

I spent much of yesterday trying to catch up on all the things that had slipped through the cracks over the last couple of weeks. I still haven't looked through all my e-mails. And I haven't finished a short story for the anthology my chapter of Sisters in Crime is publishing. The story deadline isn't for another month but I promised a first draft to my critique group by next Wednesday. So, I have a lot of work to do.

That pretty much covers things. The upshot is that I have had a lot on my plate. And hopefully in the next few days I can get back to some serious writing.

Thanks for reading. And don't give up.

In the beginning . . .

A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.

Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)


This is very true. Where to start is an arbitrary thing. But it also an important element of storytelling.

As I look at novels today -- and, more importantly, as I consider the advice of other writers, agents and higher ups  in the literary food chain -- I see that modern novels need to have some action very near the beginning. I don't always think that is the best approach but what you hear is that there needs to be action near the beginning to hook the reader in.

That is why I shortened the first chapter of both my last two novels in order to get to some action sooner.

But the actual beginning is still somewhat arbitrary. With The Last Tontine Survivor, I kill off an old guy in the first three pages. But there is a reason for his death dating back seven decades. While I do cover that period later in the novel, I could have started there.

And the ending -- the bad guys are vanquished and the protag survives. But she is entering a new phase in her life and I could have written a little more about what that happens to be.

I like the way the Harry Potter series starts and finishes. It doesn't start when Harry is born, or just before them, when his parents are terrible danger. It starts when Harry is 15 months old, on the day his parents are murdered. (That's Oct. 31, 1981, just in case you were wondering.) And at the end, there is an epilogue, which set 19 years into the future. Or, more correctly, 19 years after the conclusion of most dramatic events of the series. (Which means, the last scene in the last book won't occurred for another five years, in Septemeber 2017.) But even then, Harry and his friends are only in their mid- to late-30s, and presumably have much more life to live. And more stories to tell.

While I sometimes struggle with where to start, I generally know where to stop. It's at the end, which is where I am now.

So thanks for reading and keep writing.

The End