Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Technique Tuesday!

TV off by ~Helewidis-stocks

Today’s post is for those of you who have asked for easy, non-committal ways to “practice” writing.

Here's an idea:
  1. Think of a scene from a TV show or a movie that you really like. Got it? Good.  Now, *find it online, bust out your DVD collection, or (better yet) prepare to rely on your own memory. It doesn’t matter. Just have it [ || ] paused and ready to go.  
  2. Fire up your word processing program.
  3. Get ready to type…
  4. Press [] play and adapt the scene into written form. Don’t worry about introducing the characters or setting up the series of events that led to that moment. Just immerse yourself and let it flow. Include the dialogue, the atmosphere, the gestures, etc. Whatever you want. (Yes, you’ll need to replay the scene several times to catch everything.) Just don’t turn it into a play-by-play. You want to recreate the magic of whatever hooked you on the scene, not give a report on it.

Feel accomplished?

Great! Now look it over, beam with pride, and torch it. :)  People worked hard to write and produce that scene, so your version should never see the light of day. (Not to mention, claiming it as your own would be all kinds of illegal, and nobody looks good in prison orange.) That’s okay, though. Now that you have this practice under your belt, you’re ready to try writing one of your own scenes. (C’mon, you know you’ve got a gazillion original ideas racing through your mind. Let one out!)

You can do it. Best of luck!

*Stream it or purchase/download it legally, por favor.

Monday, May 30, 2011

Manuscript Monday!

Water by ~RosalineStock

As the sun rose for its unofficial summer debut this morning, people all over the country were slathering on sunscreen, loading coolers, and heading off in search of water parks. Me? Oh, I was revising my manuscript. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?


Those poor people don’t have anything to revise!
(Hah! Just making sure you’re paying attention...)


So, why have I spent all day working on my manuscript? Because it spent all weekend working on me. Seriously.


To the casual observer, it might’ve seemed like I was eating a cheeseburger and discussing the NHL playoffs—but I was really backtracking through my story, trying to find a way to streamline the first chapter.  Does that ever happen to you? Does the writing side of your brain know the difference between a holiday weekend and your usual working hours? Leave a comment and let me know. :) 

P.S. I’m going to try doing themed posts this week, so they’ll all be pretty concise. (Yay!)

To past and present military: Thank you for your service!
Happy Memorial Day, everyone. :)

Friday, May 20, 2011

Practice Pitches

Imagine, for a moment, that you’ve been given the privilege of throwing the ceremonial first pitch at a baseball game.  You’re in shock. Not only is it an honor, but it’s just the type of public exposure you’ve been looking for. Great!
 
Well, it seemed great until you got there. Now you’re out on the field, about to show a reverse-replay of your lunch on the pitcher’s mound. Your heart slams against your ribcage as you stretch, trying to ease the tension creeping into your shoulders.

Why did you agree to this again?

The evening air is thick with the fragrance of freshly cut grass and sweat-dampened leather—un parfum rappelant l'odeur du baseball. You draw in a deep breath and look around. The stadium is abuzz with fickle anticipation and you’ve only got one shot to earn the crowd’s favor. One slight miscalculation and you’ll be retreating to a chorus of boos and heckles. 

Someone gives the signal and you nod, exhaling slowly. Well, here goes nothin’.


You wind back, muttering a prayer, and chuck the ball as hard as you can. It sails through the air and, for a moment, you see a glimmer of hope as it propels through time and space toward the catcher. Yes! Wait. No! Its graceful arc is short-lived as it slams against the earth, bouncing five feet wide of the plate. 

Your eyes widen and you feel your cheeks catch flame.  “Wait!” You wave your arms back and forth frantically. “That was just a practice pitch!”

Uh huh.

Unfortunately, that excuse isn’t going to fly. (Just like that pitch you threw.) The same goes for your queries. No practice pitches there. You’ve got to bring your A-game and really make that first impression count.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

So, You're a Writer...

“So, you’re a writer?” Few things bring a greater mix of reactions than those four words...

SCENARIO A:
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Image © marfis75 CC BY-SA 2.0
You’re in the grocery store, ogling the rotisserie chickens, when you feel it. It’s a tingle up your spine—a nervous flutter in your stomach. Someone‘s staring at you.  There’s no doubt about it. 

Curious, you flick a casual glance over your shoulder and immediately regret it. Oops. Caught. Eye contact has already been established and it’s too late to feign ignorance.

You plaster on a weak smile and lift a hand in greeting, scrambling to remember who this guy is and how you know him. Years of these awkward exchanges have taught you it's best to just play it off.  If you probe for information, you’ll be stuck standing there for God-only-knows-how-long, trying to make small ta—

“Hey!” he calls, quickly crossing the distance between you. “How’ve you been?”

Not nearly as disappointed as you are right now.

“Oh, uh, good, good…” You reluctantly turn, nodding like a bobble-head. “How about you?”

He shifts his weight and crosses his arms, gearing up for a long spiel. “Well, you know, I’ve been really busy at wor—”

Ugh. You stop listening, eyeing possible escape routes.The guy smells like equal parts ass and cologne. Does anyone else notice? Is it infecting the chicken?

Your eyes glaze over and you reach back, gripping the shopping cart for balance. Miraculously, your body has gone on autopilot. You’re laughing at all the right moments, mirroring his expressions as he goes on and on about— 

Wait. What did he say about a cat?

“—because she has to have organic food! She eats better than I do.” He waves it off and looks around the store. “Oh, hey, we’re having a barbeque this weekend. You have any plans?”

You straighten, ready to offer your immediate (but polite) refusal. “Ah, sorry. I actually need to devote some time to my manuscript this weekend. Thanks, though. I think you’ll have nice weather for it.”

“Manuscript?” For a moment, the only sounds you hear are the register beeps in the distance. “So, you’re a writer?” 

You nod, not trusting yourself to refrain from sarcasm.

“What are you writing?”

Dilemmas, dilemmas. You could go into your own spiel about the genres you’ve been dabbling in, but that would only prolong the conversation. “A romance novel.”

There’s a long pause. “Really? Have you ever thought about getting it published?”

“…That’s the plan.” 

“You know, I wrote a novel once.” He shifts his gaze toward the ceiling, already deep in thought. “Actually, I think it was more like a long essay, but it was really good. I got an ‘A’ on it.”

“Awesome.” Your left eye begins to twitch.

“Yeah, I don’t have time for stuff like that anymore, but I’ve always been good with ideas.” He leans in, lowering his voice. “I thought up this one story in the car the other day. It’s like Lord of the Rings mixed with Lord of the Flies, only better.”

It’s better than two, completely unrelated things? Score. 

“If you want, I can tell you about it,” he offers, pausing for a moment. “If you promise not to steal it.”

There go all of your plans for debauchery.  “Maybe another time. I actually need to be goi—“

“Hey, you know, I just had an idea. What if I tell you the story and you just write it down? I’d split the money with you. It's called Lord of the Flying Rings. It's about a gymnast.”

Stare at the rotating chickens. Take a deep breath. Mmm…

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Thanks, but I’m really not looking to start anything else right now. I better get going, but have fun at your barbeq—“

“My sister writes fanfiction.”

You blink. “Oh?”

“Yeah, on the internet.”

“That’s… cool.”

“Maybe you can read it sometime and let her know what you think.”
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And it goes on from there...

I know what you’re thinking: “I’ve had that conversation a thousand times!” Okay, maybe not that exact conversation, per se, but I’d venture to say that you’ve experienced something similar.

I like to call these people “associates.” They’re the ones who have to connect and associate whatever you say with something they can relate to. Sure, it might irk you when they pepper you with delusional questions and ideas, but it’s rarely malicious on their part. They just want to relate to your interests. Can you blame them?

Often times, they’re just as ignorant about your industry as you (probably) are about theirs. The best thing to do in this situation—and I know it takes herculean effort sometimes—is use their ignorance as an opportunity for education. Calmly explain your standpoint and if they continue to harass you… well, fake an illness and bolt. ;)

Don’t worry. Associates are the least of your problems.