Supporting a Fellow Writer

We talk about the community of writers and how we support and encourage each other in our writing endeavours. We commiserate with each others’ blocks and rejections, rejoice over finishing manuscripts, finding agents and book deals, and maybe plug a friend’s new title now and then. Once published, we assume authors are hard at work doing their own promotion and marketing, and most times they are. When they are able to. For Albert Borris, however, life changed radically in the period between the writing and publication of his YA novel, “Crash Into Me”. The following excerpt is taken with permission from The Class of 2k9 website:

~  ~  ~

Debut YA novelist Albert Borris has a way with words.

Or rather, had a way with words.

This past December, just months before the release of CRASH INTO ME (Simon Pulse), Albert suffered a stroke so powerful, his doctors told him he was lucky to be alive.

And alive he is, having made a full physical recovery, enough to roughhouse with his two young sons and work out at the gym. However, Albert is still working on recovering something else: his words.

To be sure, they are all up there in his brilliant mind. He just can’t get them out – verbally or on paper – in the correct order, yet. But he’s working on it.

Prior to his stroke, Albert was a full time teen counselor, husband and father. He also served as Co-President of The Class of 2k9, a group of 22 debut middle grade and young adult novelists banding together to promote their books. Words were his thing. Communicating with others, in person and on the page, was his specialty.

As his friends and fellow debut novelists, we, the Class of 2k9, are making it our business to get the word out about Albert and his novel, CRASH INTO ME. Here’s a bit about it:

When Owen, Frank, Audrey, and Jin-Ae meet online after each attempts suicide and fails, the four teens mak e a deadly pact: they will escape together on a summer road trip to visit the sites of celebrity suicides…and at their final destination, they will all end their lives. As they drive cross-country, bonding over their dark impulses, sharing their deepest secrets and desires, living it up, hooking up, and becoming true friends, each must decide whether life is worth living–or if there’s no turning back.

Won’t you join us in spreading the word?

Pass this on to every librarian, teacher, and teen reader you know.

Send him an encouraging note on our website.

Blog about Albert.

Pre order his book.

Anything you can think of to show your support would be deeply appreciated.

Thank you.

The Class of 2k9

~   ~   ~

Sometimes we feel there is not much we can do to make a difference in another person’s difficult situation, but in this case you can join me in wishing Albert a full recovery and offering the kind of support that shows what our “community” is all about. It wouldn’t hurt to say a prayer for him, too.

Keep Doin’ It

There’s nothing complicated about finding one’s way onto the road to success. At least, not for NY Times best-selling author Diana Gabaldon. In her interview with Dee-Ann Leblanc on the “Freelance Survivor” website she was asked for her most important piece of advice:

 

          “Keep doin’ it.  Not only do you get better at something, the more you do it—persistence is the single most important aspect of success.”

 

It’s not complicated, but it’s profound in its simplicity and truth. Just “keep doin’ it.”

 

I am, Diana. I am.

Novelum Interruptus

Have you ever wondered about a mosquito’s sex life? No, I really didn’t expect you would have, and I hadn’t myself until recently. I’m amazed at how they multiply from a few random fly-pasts on a June day, to a full-fledged bombing brigade a week later.

 

I’m sorry if you think I’ve gone off track here, but this really does affect my writing.

 

Apparently it only takes about five days for a mosquito to develop from egg stage to an adult. The females generally breed within a couple days of reaching maturity. The males die within a week of mating and the females follow soon after. So if their lifespan is that short you wouldn’t expect sudden population explosions, would you?

Then how is it possible to work productively in my favourite summer writing locale on the back deck one weekend, and be interrupted by hordes of blood-hungry, hypodermic-needle-wielding insects the next? I think it has something to do with the fact that female mosquitoes lay anywhere from 40 to 400 eggs. Didn’t know that, did you? I’ll bet you also didn’t know that a mosquito can fly non-stop for up to four hours at a time at speeds of one-to-two kilometers per hour and travel up to twelve kilometers in a night. That means even if I sneak away to a new locale tonight they’ll still be able to find me. Oh, help!

 

I wonder how soon they’ll discovered a post-coitus anti-pregnancy pill for mosquitoes. At this rate I’ll never get my revisions done.

A Challenging New Relationship With My Muse

As I settle in for my second blogging year I have established new working conditions for my Muse.

You’ll have to go here to see what they are because YouTube isn’t cooperating at the moment so I can’t imbed the actual video.

Tails of Woe

Our son and his family left this morning with the inlaws for an overseas holiday, and we’ve added their Labrador to our Labrador for the duration. She’s a very sweet-natured dog and gets along just fine with our equally lovable one.

 

Until today there wasn’t much dog hair around but suddenly I’ve discovered that not one but both dogs are commencing their summer shed. A little dog hair is normal fare in our family. After all, as breeders of Shetland Sheepdogs we’ve had dozens of dogs – long-haired ones at that – over the years. But we have a new carpet, too. Not just “a” new carpet, but one that turned out to be the wrong colour and is soon to be replaced. Until then we need to keep this one clean… very clean… because after it comes up it’s going to be laid elsewhere.

 

We should just let the dogs stay outside but that’s not going to happen. First of all, the weather forecast for the rest of the week is 30^o C. And second, sporting dogs or not, they’re both accustomed to being pampered family members. Banishing them is unthinkable.

 

 

So we’re resigned to two dogs discarding arrow-tipped loose hair that will imbed firmly into the carpet pile, eight rather large feet tracking in mud from the damp garden after a quick romp, two sets of jowls dribbling mouthfuls of water on a trail from the water dish to wherever we happen to be (why is it they never swallow that last gulp?), and, of course, their best weapon of destruction—two very long, very sturdy tails clearing coffee mugs and wine glasses from the coffee tables onto the carpet. Sigh. I’ll just keep an extra towel handy and plan to vacuum frequently.

 

But not this evening. It’s Canada’s 142^nd birthday and we’re about to have dinner out on the deck, dogs included, of course. Spills and soil don’t matter out there.

 

Happy Canada Day, everyone!

After one year what’s next? Anything?

Today is a significant day, although not to anyone except me. It was one year ago today that this blog was created, but that in itself isn’t particularly noteworthy.

 

Yesterday a friend asked me why anyone would want to put information about oneself out into the anonymous public eye, and why anyone else would want to read trivia written by an unknown. She’s never read a blog and has no desire to. I found it difficult to justify to her why I do. Each reason I offered was met with a disparaging response. 

 

So now I look back over this year of blogging with uncertainty and wonder if it has been wasted time and effort.

 

Many new cyber-friends and fellow writers have come my way by means of this blog—people I would never have known except for the internet. Via its vast network I’ve discovered authors, agents and editors all offering me glimpses of their personal and professional lives and sharing their expertise. I am richer and wiser for those encounters.

 

But I don’t require a blog of my own to search out such people, so does it really have any value? Honesty makes me acknowledge that it probably isn’t meaningful to many others, but when I reflect on who I was one year ago and how I felt about promoting myself then, I know I owe a lot to this small page on the World Wide Web. Because of it I have tiptoed into the open, pulling aside the curtain that separated the artificial layers of my persona from the authentic me. For an introverted writer that’s a gigantic achievement. It’s reason enough to keep me blogging into a second year. I may not have a published novel to promote here yet, but am I wasting my time and effort? I don’t think so! I’m here to stay.

A Tangle of Mixed Metaphors

When words mingle with thoughts the resulting tangle can be delightful. Check out Brandilyn Collins’ recent blog where her ability to mix metaphors runs screaming over the hill. (Oops!)

Goals versus Challenges and Resolutions versus Intentions

Is a goal really a goal if you have no expectation of reaching it, or is it just a pipe dream? That question returns with tongue out and fingers flapping in ears to taunt me whenever I consider accepting a challenge.

 

The first time was when I agreed to participate in the 2006 NaNoWriMo insanity. I’ve launched myself towards a 50,000-words-in-November goal on three occasions now but have yet to make it to the finish line.

 

A friend and I long ago gave up on New Year’s Resolutions. We agreed that making ambitious “resolutions” that we probably couldn’t keep is just setting ourselves up for failure, so instead we settle on sharing our “intentions”. Intentions aren’t promises in the way resolutions are, so breaking them isn’t quite as devastating to the morale. The trick is to identify the category to use at any given time.

 

Then too, it’s important to identify our capabilities. I’ve said it before: there’s no sin in being good to yourself. It’s okay to ease back on the throttle when life’s multitude of priorities threatens to overwhelm. So why, when I have more on the go than I have time or energy to cope with, do I accept more challenges? I suspect it’s because I know I work better under pressure. The more I absolutely have to get done, the more efficient I become.

 

With that in mind I recently took up Jennifer Hubbard’s Summer Reading Challenge, pledging to read ten books before September 21^st. I don’t expect to have trouble meeting this challenge because I  l-o-v-e  to read. And that’s the reason I’ve also accepted Tristi Pinkston’s July Writing Challenge. It’s much too easy for me to read to the point of procrastinating on my writing, so these two challenges should balance out my efforts. I’ve committed to edit (revise yet again) at least 200 pages of my current novel and also organize the haphazard thoughts for my new w.i.p. – get them out of my head and into some kind of outline on paper – during the month of July.

 

I’m not sure where challenges fit into my interpretation of goals. Are they resolutions or intentions? Either way, I’m getting psyched up to accomplish great things this summer.  Oh, but I have to stock up on Diet Coke before I do anything else. It’s pretty hard to read or write without a cold one near by. If I share my supply with you would you like to join me for either or both challenges?

Whose Deadline is it, Anyway?

As writers we know all about deadlines, don’t we? They are entwined with commitments and are equally unpopular. There’s something about seeing a big circle looming on the calendar that automatically turns off my enthusiasm. At the very time when I need to be productive, I often can’t dredge up the necessary words. As the deadline draws closer I can become panicky. Nothing kills creativity like panic! But we don’t have the luxury of submitting to that panic if an editor is waiting for our work. We must write and we must do it now. So how do we accomplish the seemingly impossible?

 

William Faulkner once said: “I write only when I am inspired. Fortunately, I am inspired at nine o’clock every morning.” How does a person “get inspired” when the words aren’t coming?

 

In the book “Take Joy” that I mentioned yesterday, Jane Yolen suggests one way. She speaks of “priming the writing pump”:

     “My late father-in-law had a cabin in the West Virginia woods. There was no running water, only a pump that needed to be primed each morning with river water…. Pouring the river water into the mouth of the pump, I would then lower the handle, lift it, lower it again. The gurgle of the unseen machinery alluded to the sympathetic magic taking place: like calling to like.

     “The pump would wheeze, snort, pull, the handle becoming harder and harder to push. And then suddenly water–not the river water laved into the pump, but fresh, earth-chilled, underground, sweet-as-spring water would gush forth.

     “Everyday writing starts that way. The old river water thrown into the pump is metaphorically your letters, revisions, journal entries… and then that sympathetic magic takes hold. As water calls water, so words call words. Up they come from the unplumbed depths, what some call inspiration and some call talent and some call soul: sweet-as-spring new ideas. Sentences. Paragraphs. Stories. Poems. Gushing, flowing, even overflowing. The writer’s day starts.”

 

For a Christian writer the added ingredient is prayer. Long before I begin trying to prime the pump I have engaged in conversation with the creator of all creativity. Only then do I check the clock and settle in to write. I haven’t missed a deadline yet.

If I Had to Pick Just One Book…

Now that the weekend entertaining is done and the omelet pans washed, I’m putting my feet up and settling in for a quiet Monday morning read.

 

In mid-May I mentioned my shelf filled with books on writing.  In comparison to some writers, my library isn’t all that impressive. There are many more volumes that I would love to own. There is so much to learn and I expect to be making discoveries until the end of my days.

 

As I went to my bookcase this morning I thought about the titles I reach for most often. My two faves are not ‘how to’ books to educate my mind on the creating and crafting process. Instead, they provide encouragement for my sometimes-fragile writing spirit.

Their titles say it all: “Take Joy: A Writer’s Guide to loving the Craft” by Jane Yolen, and “Room to Write: Daily Invitations to a Writer’s Life” by Bonni Goldberg. There are times when I don’t need to be told how to write. I just need a little nurturing. These books nurture.

 

But please don’t ask me to pick just one of them!