Le Mot Juste

I was blog-hopping this morning, searching out my daily dose of writerly wisdom, and came across a comment made by the editor of Author Magazine that stuck with me. Referring to the meaning of the phrase le mot juste, the perfect word, Bill Kenower said, “Mathematicians agree on 12 X 12, physicists agree on gravity—why can’t we [writers] agree on something? Why can’t we agree there is at least one perfect phrase or word?”

 

But, of course, that will never happen. Even wresting a well-known word from my brain so I can utter it to the paperboy is a frustrating exercise some days, so expecting to find the exact word or phrase to perfectly convey a specific thought to every potential reader is beyond imagination.

 

I’ve come to the conclusion that in the world of writing there is not much writers fully agree upon. There is so much well-intentioned advice available, but no single approach to the craft that works for every person.

 

I’m told the best time to write is (a.) in the morning when my mind is fresh;  (b.) in the quiet of the night when there are no interruptions. The best place to write is (a.) sequestered in my office without distractions; (b.) in a coffee shop, bus or library surrounded by stimulation. The best way to write is (a.) with pen or pencil and paper for visceral involvement with my words; (b.) with wordprocessor or computer for quick capture of ephemeral thoughts and ease of editing.

 

I am encouraged to (a.) create first and worry about crafting later; (b.) ensure each word, sentence and paragraph is the right building block for what will follow. I am advised to (and as admonitions go, this is one of my favourites) (a.) follow the rules if I ever hope to get published; (b.) break all the rules if doing so serves my purpose.

 

Agreement is a fragile commodity in today’s world so perhaps it’s not surprising that writers cannot find it within their communities of communication. For writers, the perfect word will always be just out of reach.

Resident Bears

A bear resides on my desk. He is a gift from a friend and writing buddy and he is supposed to prod me when I’m procrastinating. I’m to imagine he’s saying, “… and you’re not writing because–?” I like him, even if his nagging occasionally gets on my nerves.

 

 

The bear I don’t like is the one who resides somewhere out of sight in our woods and periodically comes to visit.

 

A summer or so ago I captured this picture of him helping himself to what he obviously thought was gourmet granola in the birdfeeder. Immediately after he left we removed the birdfeeder to eliminate the source of attraction. But persistent fellow that he is, he comes back anyway. Occasionally he wanders onto our back deck and has a drink from the bubbling water garden in the corner by my office window, and on his most recent visit he decided to turn a potted sedum into his own personal serving of salad. Cheeky bruin!

 

We live rurally so wildlife is a given — bears, deer, raccoons and coyotes come and go without incident. It’s a bit unnerving, however, to realize that Blackie might possibly decide he wants a drink while I’m sitting in my lounge chair and quietly writing, right next to that water garden. I have a ‘Bear Bell’ for when I’m weeding in the garden so he will know I’m there. I wonder if there’s a way to affix it to my computer. While the jingle would be distracting, it would be much less so than the appearance of a bear at my side!

The Scent and Sound of Rain

Rain arrived at dawn, vying with the light for dominance on this last workday of the week. It plummeted out of the greyness, splatting on the deck and flattening flowers.

 

I know I’m an oddity, but I like rain. I like watching it, listening to it, even walking in it. Maybe it has something to do with having lived so much of my life within scenting distance of the ocean and its wind-borne mist.

 

There’s nothing to equal the freshness of rain-washed air. This first morning of August is off to a great start.

 

The cheque is in the mail…

Today’s mail brought the cheque for my latest magazine submission… an article that won’t appear in print until next spring. It’s a blessing when publications will pay their writers “on acceptance”. Not all do. I don’t have to make a living by writing, so it’s not a big issue for me.

 

Sometimes I write, knowing there will be no payment at all. Not everyone agrees that ‘writing for free’ is a worthwhile use of one’s time and effort. But when a topic suits a particular market where I’m not known, I’m prepared to forego reimbursement, content to be getting the exposure.

 

I must admit, though… it’s always nice to know the cheque is in the mail.

There’s just no pleasing everyone…

It’s raining. You wouldn’t think there’s anything too significant in that fact. This is coastal British Columbia after all. But this is the first drop of moisture we’ve had in more than three weeks. In fact, weather records show there’s been only .6 mm of precipitation here in the last seven weeks. And that is significant.

 

Last year we had 80 mm of rain in June and 53 mm in July. Go back another year to 2006 and there were 54 mm in June and 25 mm in July. So a mere half millimetre is just a drop in the bucket, figuratively speaking. Thirsty gardens are loving today’s drink. Cranky people are not.

“All the sunshine we’ve had, and the one day I decide to invite friends over for a barbeque, it rains. Stupid weather!”

 

There’s just no pleasing everyone.

 

 

An Encouraging Rejection is an Anomaly

Agent Jessica Faust, in a recent post on the Bookends Literary Agency blog says, “No matter what you do or how you proceed, remember that personalized rejections deserve a pat on the back. Congratulations for making it that far.” Somehow, knowing the definition of the word ‘rejection’, her comment seems like an anomaly.

 

I haven’t received many rejection slips, chiefly because I haven’t sent out my manuscripts for scrutiny very often. My non-fiction pieces have been well received — no rejections (so far!) since I began writing for magazines eight years ago.

 

In light of Jessica’s comment I find myself re-evaluating the rejections of my fiction submissions. Every one of them has been personal. And kind. And encouraging. None has suggested there is no market for the story, or that it needs further work. The most recent provided a paragraph of feedback and ended with “While your story shows promise it’s not right for me at this time. Keep at it. You have talent. Your time is coming.” At the time I chose to believe this was just a polite agent. After all, it was still a rejection.

 

Do personal rejections reveal less about the quality of the writing and more about the personality and professionalism of the agent? Maybe. But whatever the case, at the moment I think perhaps I’ll take greater encouragement from my collection of personalized rejection slips and press on with renewed determination.

 

 

 

Contributing to the Statistics

Yesterday a TV report said that in Canada the average age of a video gamer is now forty. Forty! We’re told that systems such as the new “Wii Resort” and Microsoft’s “You’re In the Movie” are marketed to the middle-aged participant. Can you believe it?

 

The just released Entertainment Software Association (ESA) statistics say that thirty-five is the average age in the U.S.A. — not quite our forty, but still sort of middle age — and they add that one out of four gamers is over the age of fifty, that 40% are women and also that women age eighteen or older represent 33% of the game-playing population while boys age seventeen or younger represent only 18%.

 

I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Even business men play games on their PDAs between appointments and while travelling. But the stereotype of videogames being the exclusive domain of teenage boys persists. That is, until I acknowledge I play Solitaire on my computer. I’ve never considered that I contribute to the over-40 gamer statistic, but I do! That’s quite a revelation for very conservative me.

 

 

Communication Challenges

Trying to describe what a story is about when the book is not your own can be risky.  I don’t mean reviewing a book, but actually trying to re-tell the basics of its story. I recently read the blog of someone who did this and I was disappointed at the disjointed account. It did not entice me to read the book but it did lower my opinion of the blogger’s communication skills, and that’s unfortunate because I know how well she normally expresses herself.

 

The situation is reminiscent of the delegate who is sent to a convention and is expected to report back to her home organization. The full benefit to the participant can’t be effectively conveyed to anyone who wasn’t there — the information can be shared, but it’s impossible to replicate the atmosphere, the experience, the exhilaration.

 

Better not to try, but instead to hand over the actual book, or contribute to the next registration opportunity. Urge folks to experience it firsthand.

 

“Show, don’t tell!” Where have we heard that before?

 

Searching Through the Morass

I don’t read much Christian fiction.  In fact, for years I avoided reading it altogether because the plots I had encountered were painfully simplistic, the narrative and dialogue purged and unbelievable. However the research I did while preparing a book review for last summer’s ‘Presbyterian Record’ magazine exposed me to a changing reality. During the past decade a greater quantity of good Christian novels has unobtrusively been making its way onto bookshelves, and I have discovered a few Christian authors whose fiction I really do enjoy –  Linda Hall  and  Jane Kirkpatrick  are two.

 

Both women have recently published new books that have already been well received: Linda’s July release, “Shadows at the Window”, has been named a ‘Romantic Times’ magazine Top Pick for July, and Jane’s April release, “A Mending at the Edge”, was on the ‘Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association’ Best Seller list the first week of its release.

 

Undoubtedly there are other good reads around, too. The thing is to find them without having to wade through all the not-so-good ones en route. Searching through the morass tends to ignite my impatience and I leave behind me a smoldering trail of unfinished books. There must be a better way!

 

 

Today’s the Day!

Today’s the day! Registration opens at noon today for the Surrey International Writers Conference   October 24-26, 2008. I plan to be among the early ones on their doorstep to ensure my choices for Agent/Editor interviews and Blue Pencil Cafe appointments will be available.

 

This will be my third conference. Since 2004 I’ve been attending every second year, using the alternate years to focus on saving money for the not-insignificant registration fee and cost of accommodation. I could easily commute, but one of the major benefits of the conference is always the schmoozing before, between and after the meals and workshops and I’d have to forego some of that if I opted for a couple hours’ travel time each day. I’d also miss out on intimate evenings sharing a hotel room with my daughter and a dear friend, and I have treasured memories of those times at past conferences.

 

So the excitement is building. It starts now with anticipation, moves through a weekend of exhilaration (and exhaustion), and leaves behind a renewed enthusiasm for writing. It’s going to be wonderful!