Showing posts with label Charles Dickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles Dickens. Show all posts

Monday, January 27, 2014

Pickwick Comes to Novel Matters

Is it spring yet?

Sadly no, but let's defy the arctic blasts and have some writerly good fun.

After all of our talk about collaboration last week, writing a serial story with our readers seems like the most logical (and entertaining) next step.

This Friday the 31st, you'll find the beginning of the story posted here, and yes, we collaborated. We had a ball.

You have a huge part to play in this. We'll supply the beginning, but we invite you to add each consecutive portion of the story for the following Fridays until, well, the story is finished satisfactorily.

This is how our serial story (yet to be titled) will work:

  • We post the beginning of the story this Friday, January 31.
  • You jump in with unbridled enthusiasm to write a portion of the story. Please let us know via our contact us button. We'll be waiting!
  • We will then assign you a week to write up to 300 words. That's about a page. Your job is to keep the story moving with good tension, interesting twists, and ever-deepening revelations about the characters.
  • The next author (and you know you want to play along) starts where the previous author left off. 
  • Your installment is due the Wednesday before the Friday it is published.


Things to remember for participants:

  • Remain true to the characters. Yes, they should surprise us but in a way that's consistent with who they are.
  • Let's practice what we've been preaching about nouns and verbs. Adjectives and adverbs are very welcome to play, in moderation. Lean hard on specific nouns and power verbs. 
  • Have fun, fun, fun!
  • Invite your authorial friends to join us.


The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens enjoyed outrageous popularity when it was serialized, starting in 1836. Authors are still serializing their stories in newspapers, as e-installments, and as e-novels. Let's not miss out on the fun.

We believe we have the most creative and talented readers in the blogosphere. We can wait to see what you have to contribute.



Monday, December 16, 2013

Party On! Novel Matters' Holiday Guest List

We're collecting our beaded chiffon evening gowns from the cleaners in preparation for the coming holiday season. Each of us has drawn up a guest list of authors--living or dead--to invite. We have our reasons for each inclusion, of course. Be sure to share who you would invite to your holiday party.

New Year's Eve is a quiet affair at the Hill house. Our farmer genes have gone into overdrive, so once the sun sets, well...But if I were to stay up long enough to welcome in 2014, here's who I would want to pass the popcorn with:

William Shakespeare. I lugged the complete works of Shakespeare around for 4 1/2 months to attend class with a dry-as-dirt professor. I imagined Will sitting at the back of the class, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. First and foremost, I believe Will was an entertainer. If people didn't come to his plays, he didn't have a job. Secondly, the man was a genius. He contextualized pressing questions within the iambic pentameter of his writing. I want to know if we go overboard sometimes with our interpretations. Now, if his naysayers are correct, and Will did not write the body of work we attribute to him, would the right and true author please RSVP immediately?

Emily Dickinson. I would be terribly shy in her presence, but once I gained her confidence with literary conversation, I would ask about her writings to the "Master." Were her steamier love poems written about him? Although a recluse, men did orbit in her sphere. Was there someone else? Yeah, you're right, I want to gossip with Emily. It is a party, right?

Steven King. Things might get a little boring, so I'll invite Steven, too. A live one. He has a lot to say about writing. A bit of a taskmaster, though. He might get us to dip our quills for a fresh start of writing for the new year. If that doesn't work, I'll ask, "Steve, could you tell us a story?" Of course, we would all stay awake to see the new year in. First, because the story would be enthralling. Second, because we would be afraid to close our eyes.

Heading my guest list would be Charles Dickens. I've been a fan for many years. I remember years ago getting a biography on Dickens, and it took me quite a while to gather the nerve to read it. My hesitation came from not wanting my image of him destroyed. Happily, I liked him even better after reading the biography. He would be an extremely entertaining guest.

Harper Lee would certainly be on my guest list. I know I've written about her before, but I would actually have two sets of questions for her. The first set would be geared toward the young Ms. Lee: what was it like to write a story like To Kill a Mockingbird as a young white woman in Alabama? What were the immediate repercussions? What, if anything, did it cost you? The second set of questions would be for the elderly Ms. Lee: At the time that you wrote Mockingbird, did you ever envision the changes that would ultimately take place in civil rights in your lifetime? And why, oh, why, did you not continue to publish your writing? I know I'd not be the only one to sit at her feet and listen to her answers.

And difficult as it is to narrow the list, I'd invite Suzanne Collins to talk about her amazing series, The Hunger Games. I'd like to ask about the inspiration for the novel series, and whether she's ever second-guessed herself regarding the love triangle between Katniss, Gale and Peeta.



William Shakespeare. I’d invite him too and share him with Patti. For one thing, I’d like to know if all that we attribute to him came out of his brain. Then I’d probably swoon and need to be resuscitated.

Charles Spurgeon. I have spent years of my life telling God “thank you” for this man’s incredible scholarship and insights. I’ve been reading The Treasury of David for over a decade, in fact. I can’t believe how much is crammed into that book. And if I could meet Spurgeon, I would wait on him hand and foot for the entire evening. The stories I’ve read of the depression he suffered during his last years breaks my heart, and I would love to make it up to him.

William Faulkner. I want to be him when I grow up as a writer. Sheer genius, and I’d tell him so and then leave him alone, which is what I think he’d want.

Corrie Ten Boom. I actually met her before she departed this life. But I’d like to sit quietly with her and let her tell me stories of her life.

Joyce Carol Oates. She’s still living, so I guess she might actually accept my invitation. (In my dreams.) She is brilliant and prolific in many genres. After I read Black Water, I thought she was the bravest novelist I had ever read.

Agatha Christie. A woman who loved both Egyptology and mysteries!  My kind of woman. And I’d want to know where she was during those 10 days in 1926.

Bonnie, Debbie, Katie, Patti, and Sharon. Truly, I would love to sit down with the most true-hearted writers God ever created. 

Latayne, I so agree. You all top my list!! One of these days we'll all be together again!








Anne Rice. I am currently reading her memoir Called Out of Darkness, A Spiritual Confession and I would love to hear firsthand about her journey back to relationship with Christ.  I know that since she wrote this book, she became disillusioned with the church, and I would like to talk with her about that, too.

Ray Bradbury. No surprise here - he would be top of my list. He captured my writerly imagination in my senior year when The Martian Chronicles was assigned reading.  I wrote him several times in his later years to tell him how his words had moved me to become a writer.  After he passed away, I was glad that I had not put it off.

Daphne du Maurier.  I think I read all her books growing up.  Her female characters were strong and self-reliant, or in Rebecca's case, grew to be so.  Her stories didn't fit into any one genre, and I think I was drawn to that. She never wrote with a formula and her endings weren't always neatly tied up. 

I agree with Latayne, we Novel Matters writers need another retreat. The last time we all met together was 2009. We're overdue.

My Christmas dinner party. I've actually thought about this often over the years with the guests changing on a regular basis. There are writers whose work I love. There are writers whose stories are so fascinating (by virtue of truth or myth) I want to include them at the party in an attempt to squeeze out the true story. There are questions I would ply certain writers with that have nothing to do with their work (Hey, Edgar, why did you refuse to drills and classes at West Point? And who brought roses to your grave every year?), and there are writers who I would invite simply because I want to listen to whatever they have to say, whatever they say. You can see how torturous this is for me to publish a definitive list. I'll call it a guest list in process. I'll be rearranging the name tags for all my life. Still, here are some thoughts:

Marilynne Robinson. I promise you I don't know enough about reform theology to keep up, but I'd like the chance to try.

Chaim Potok. Because we need a counterpoint to Robinson, and because I firmly believe they would bond over the pate and I would take notes.

Alice Munro. I'd give her a break from all the Nobel talk. Instead we'd talk being Canadian, and the subtle and not so subtle differences between Eastern Canada and the West. Our conversation would roam wide as the nation. And, because it's Alice, I'd bring up the role of women but not feminism, the way men understand the turn of the leg, but not misogyny.

J.D Salinger. Enough reclusive living, already. I'd invite him to confirm my suspicions of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after The Battle of the Bulge. I'd serve him chamomile tea and he wouldn't have to talk if he didn't want to, but I'm certain Marilynne, Chaim, and Alice would draw him out and there would be a great healing for him and for the world.

Louisa May Alcott. She was her family's main source of income and so she learned to write fast (she wrote at least two works, Eight Cousins, and Little Men, in six weeks), and the stress was enormous. Addicted to morphine, and suffering from depression she eventually had to rent a room away from home just to be able to sleeps without the aid of drugs. I think she would sympathize with Salinger, and would benefit from the administrations of Potok and Robinson. Alice Munro would hold her hand and listen for hours and together they could carve out a better way.

~

Novel Matters wants to thank each and every one of our readers for making 2013 a Carpe Annum year. We've shared some amazing accomplishments, published books, and survived NaNoWriMo together. We have learned from each guest on the blog. It's been a wonderful year and we look forward to 2014 with you. We have some MAJOR ideas cooking, but, because they are still in their infancy, we will hold off revealing any details. What we can tell you is 2014 holds great promise and great reading.

Thank you so much for being a part of the Novel Matters community. We love this place where honesty, hope, and love mix together with ease. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a blessed and healthy New Year.

We will see you back here in January!

Friday, July 5, 2013

What's in a Name?

I know I've mentioned it before, but I proofread for a friend of mine who is a court reporter. I'm in California, she's in Wyoming, but we send transcripts back and forth via email. The hearings are usually boring (though I have read the transcripts for a murder trial or two, and those were not boring). I read a transcript the other day, and when I came across the name of one of the witnesses, I had to stop and laugh. Then I had to mentally flog his parents because, wow, it wasn't nice what name they saddled him with. He's a deputy sheriff and his name is ... I swear I'm not making this up ... Boot Hill.

For those youngsters among us who have no idea who or what a Boot Hill is (this only occurs to because, I'm amazed to say, my own two adult daughters didn't know), Boot Hill was the name of the graveyard in every old western ever made. Wikipedia says: "Boot Hill is the name for any number of cemeteries, chiefly in the American West. During the 19th century it was a common name for the burial grounds of gunfighters, or those who "died with their boots on" (i.e., violently).

I'll just pause here and blow the smoke away from the barrel of my six-shooter.

I can't believe this poor guy, a deputy sheriff at that, goes through life with the name of Boot Hill. Where on earth was his mother when the birth certificate was filled out?! Think of the jokes he gets with every introduction. Nor could I believe that, as he was sworn in, there wasn't a single snicker in the courtroom -- at least none that my friend recorded. Only in Wyoming. And only in real life. Because, as an author, if I wrote westerns, and if I named a character Boot Hill in one of my books, my editor would make me change it. If I had an editor. "Contrived," she would scold, "contrived, contrived."

As I sit at my desk writing my latest novel I have a collage of my main characters before me. When I create characters for a new book, their names have to be just right. I experiment with different names, as if they were a taste to be explored, until I hit on exactly the right one. I always know when I have it wrong, and I always know when I get it right. I love the name of one of the main characters in the latest book I'm working on. I can say that because, honestly, I didn't give her the name. She gave it to me when she introduced herself. That's really how it happened.

I was in a writers' critique group a few years ago with a lovely young woman who was working on an edgy paranormal thriller. Her main character was -- much like the author -- a sharp, attractive young woman named . . . Mabel.

Clunk.

With as much finesse as I could manage, I did my best to get her to rename her character. (Forgive me if your name is Mabel; it's not that I don't like your name, it's that I didn't like your name for that character).I told her Mabel did NOT fit the character. That it conjured up a whole different persona than the one she was striving for. No matter how hard I tried I could not convince her.

So names really make a difference to me. But not until three books ago, when I wrote Lying on Sunday, did I spend much time searching for the right faces to go with the names. Now as I develop my character profiles I spend a day or two navigating through "headshot" sites until I find the perfect image that correlates to the one in my mind for each of my main characters. The benefits are that I feel I know them better than ever before, and it's easier to keep track of their physical attributes, so I don't give someone green eyes in Chapter 1 and brown eyes in Chapter 12. For me it's added another dimension to the discovery process. And after all, that's what a novel is all about -- for the reader and the writer: becoming acquainted with new people and learning as much of their stories as they're willing to share.

But that doesn't mean I have to paint a portrait for the reader. In fact, the more I write, the less inclined I am to give details about physical appearance that aren't necessary to the story. It may be far more important to know that my protagonist has a scar on her ring finger than that she has blond hair or dimples. Here's a perfect example of germane description from one of my very favorite books, Joy Jordan Lake's Blue Hole Back Home:

"I watched the new girl swing her leg out from under her red skirt -- a brown leg, darker at the knee than the thigh, and darker still more at the calf. And I watched the boys watching the brown, or maybe the shape -- I wouldn't know what boys see when they watch -- of first one leg then the other, and not a one of them . . . able to talk. Me, I had a spasm of wanting to stay put myself, of fear that tripped up my feet and made me wish desperately I could miss this one trip to the Blue Hole with our mangy pack and the new girl. Because I was beginning to think what a bad, what a truly remarkably bad idea this whole thing might be."


Trust me, it only gets better from there. If you haven't read, I highly recommend it.

As a writer, how much time do you spend naming your characters? Like me, do you ever feel you haven't quite got it right? What's your favorite example of the perfectly right name for a character in a novel you've read. Or a perfectly wrong name? I'll start. For a perfectly right name, it doesn't get any better than Uriah Heep in David Copperfield. For a perfectly wrong name, I'll stick with Boot Hill.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Be Yourself

"Joy in the act of creating ... When was the last time you enjoyed the writing process?" Ariel Lawhon
"Lap up masterful writing. Savor it. Celebrate it. But do not compare your writing to anyone else's." Patti Hill
~
Good insight from Ariel and Patti this week. If you haven't yet read their posts, I hope you will.
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To answer Ariel's question, the last time I enjoyed the writing process was ... well, the last time I wrote. But here's the thing. It's been a while. Typically, I love slipping into my fictional world, getting to know my characters -- and often being surprised by them. I love the unfolding of their stories, many of the intricate details unknown even to me until I stumble upon them. I truly love the process.
~
But having put my writing aside for the sake of the long holiday season, I'm finding it difficult to get back into the process. My characters knock at the door, telling me all sorts of things about themselves, and wait for me to pick up the thread and get back to weaving. But I look at the loose ends and think, WHAT am I supposed to DO with them? Yeah, there are a lot of morals to this story, like Don't put the writing aside, whatever you do! But that doesn't help me now.
~
I mean to get back to it, I really do. Right after I clean the toilet and fold the towels.
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And when I do, I plan to BE MYSELF. I don't plan to copy all those other excellent writers I so want to emulate. The Joy Jordan Lakes, the Elizabeth Bergs, the five fabulous women I blog with. No, I plan to be me. I pledge to be me. If I only knew who that was exactly.
~
Years ago I had a Sandi Patty album -- yes album. As I said, it was years ago. There was some humorous dialogue on this live album that comes to mind from time to time. Patti's post jarred it to the surface again. Sandi talks about trying to find who she was as a young singer. In the 10th grade she had a big identity crisis, and was very impressionable. There were a lot of great singers she admired, but she was drawn in particular to Karen Carpenter. She said, "I not only wanted to sing like Karen Carpenter ... I wanted to BE Karen Carpenter." Then she goes on to sing a portion of "Jesus Loves Me," Karen Carpenter style. "I was so immature as a sophomore," she continues. "I realize all of this now because I was such a mature senior in high school, and I realized it was so silly and so ridiculous and so immature of me to want to be Karen Carpenter ... because NOW I wanted to be Barbra Streisand." And again she sings a portion of "Jesus Loves Me," ala the funny girl.
~
In the 10th grade I wanted to be Janis Ian, Rembrandt, and Jose Feliciano, in that order. Today I want to be ... I guess more secure in what I do. I want to feel that I've arrived, but I've no clue what that means. I want to write the stories the Lord has planted in my heart, and do it in such a way that they touch other hearts. There's nothing easy about the process, about discovering your voice as a writer, about knowing just how to tell the story that lives in your soul. But "easy" isn't a condition of what we do. Birthing is hard work. It takes the most private parts of you and exposes them to the world.
~
But where would we be if Tolkien had ignored the little hobbit in his heart? If Harper Lee hadn't given voice to Scout? If Dickens had never picked up a pen? It makes me sad to even consider it. Many people want to have written. Relatively few want to write. Whose voice may you be silencing with your reticence? What tale may go untold for fear of failure? With the gift of another new year let's pledge to be true to our call, giving birth to the stories only we can tell. Let's be content with the peculiar style that is ours, ever striving to improve our craft, but not held back because we aren't someone else. So thank you, Patti and Ariel. Your words were the swift kick this writer needed. Look at me, I'm weaving again.
~
What about you? What story are you NOT telling? What sidetracks you from your writing -- and what gets you back on track? And tell us, who did you want to be in the 10th grade?