Beginnings: Get to the Point
Note: You may have noticed that this site has changed. If you’re looking for my freelance writing site (which includes my portfolio), it has moved to a new URL: http://www.jasminekevans.com. I will still be posting content related to education semi-regularly at that new spot. Thanks for your patience during this transition.
Get to the point. Photo courtesy of Aaron Bushnell
I have commitment issues. Now, before you start thinking that this blog post is going to turn into a therapy session, let me specify. When it comes to books, I have commitment issues.
The characters have to prove to me that they are worth my time, make me care. The plot has to draw me in and keep me interested. Otherwise, the relationship won’t last.
Am I the only one who feels like this? …I doubt it.
Before I continue, let me say that I’m a firm believer in the concept of karma. I don’t think it’s wise to bash another author’s work. That said, I do think it’s important for authors (read: me) to learn from the mistakes others make. We read not just to learn what we should do but also to figure out what we shouldn’t do.
Moving on…
If I had to give any author some advice about beginnings (from the perspective of a reader), it’s get to the point. The awesome people at Writer Unboxed posted a compilation of advice from literary agents about the first chapter. It’s a great post, check it out if you have a moment.
That post combined with a less than stellar reading experience led me to this post. I settled into a new book a few days ago. Goodreads recommended it, the description intrigued me, the protagonist had an occupation that I was unfamiliar with, and the cover looked pretty cool. What more could I want in deciding what to read next?
Boy were my instincts off.
It started off with a prologue. The protagonist is in danger and hops into a crazy high speed chase. Immediately questions start popping into my mind. Who is she running from? Why are they chasing her? Will they catch her?
The prologue ends on a serious cliffhanger, which of course, leads me to keep turning the pages to find out what happens. And then, the protagonist says a sentence that raises little red flags in my mind–words that I as a reader don’t like to hear. For the sake of the author’s anonymity, I won’t give an exact quote, but the sentence was something like, “In order for all this to make sense, I have to start at the very beginning.”
The very beginning? Are you sure? Do we absolutely have to go back to the very, very beginning?
Apparently. And sure enough, the next several chapters chronicled the lives, from birth in some cases, of every member of the main character’s family. None of that information was helping answer the questions I had asked after the prologue. I grew increasingly impatient…
After awhile, I set the book down and started thinking about why I was so frustrated. The answer? Too much backstory. Even worse, too much backstory all clumped together in the beginning of the book. Backstory can be like super thick mud. Readers start off the book with a bang, racing along at a great pace, and then they step right into the mud and everything slows down.
Some readers make it out of the mud…in this case, I didn’t.
Readers don’t always have a Westley to pull them out of the mud (or quicksand) we create.
How do you know you have too much backstory? Honestly, I don’t have the answer to this question. I think it depends on your plot, your characters, and your writing style. But one thing you can do is study other books you admire and look for how they handle backstory.
The Tip
Seek out novels that have in the past sucked you in and wouldn’t let you go until you reached the end. Now, figure out how those authors dealt with a character’s backstory. Did they sprinkle it in throughout the entire novel so we’re learning more as time goes on? Did they forget about the past entirely because the present is just too juicy?
Think about what they did. Decide whether you like or dislike it and then experiment. Write! And, as always, figure out what works best for you.
Writers, how do you deal with backstory? Readers, how do you respond to books with a lot of backstory? Let me know in the comments.
*****
Other Posts You Might Enjoy:
6 Simple Ways to Beat Writer’s Block
3 Ways to Let Films Inspire Your Writing
There have been a lot of great writing stuff posted on Pinterest. Check out what I’ve found useful!
I’m constantly tweeting about books (#booklove) and writing (#writerlife). Follow me on Twitter!
3 Ways to Let Films Inspire Your Writing
What was the last movie you saw?
Writers have to read. Aside from writing, the most important thing writers do is read. For those of us who know that, we might turn up our noses at television and movies.
“Reading is the sole means by which we slip, involuntarily, often helplessly, into another’s skin, another’s voice, another’s soul.” — Joyce Carol Oates
When I was little, my grandmother (a huge influence on my life and career) used to tell me that TV will kill my imagination. And you know what? As a kid, I believed her 100%. And to some extent, I think she has a point.
Studies have shown that kids who watch a lot of TV at a young age are at risk of becoming overstimulated. What does that mean? Basically, it means that they get used to the flashing lights and bright colors of the TV shows. And later on it becomes difficult for them to process information that isn’t presented that way…like a teacher showing them how to do long division or a parent encouraging them to read a book.
Dr. Ellen Abell said in an article, “Children who watch too much television and do not read enough may have trouble paying attention and listening to comprehend language.” But that’s a different topic…maybe one for the blog on my other site.
While I love the feeling of a book–new or old–in my hands. I also enjoy Grey’s Anatomy and Scandal every Thursday. Just because you enjoy TV shows or going to the movies doesn’t mean you can’t be a good writer. There are ways to balance it and to even use films to inspire you.
Try out a new genre. Movies in a specific genre will oftentimes mimic the structure of novels in that genre. Mysteries, for example, keep a structure for the most part whether they are in film or novels. Writers of screenplays and novels use similar techniques to build suspense or elicit horror from the audience. Movies can teach you something new about a genre you haven’t explored.
Play the description game. I do this while people watching at the mall or parks, but it can also work in movies. As you watch, pause the show at important points and try to find the words to describe what you see. If an actor is making a face, find the words to describe the face. This is great practice for when you’re describing facial features and body language in stories.
What words would you use to describe this scene?
Get to know yourself as an artist. Movies and books alike will draw emotion out of you. Take your favorite movies and ask yourself, what does this make me feel? And then, do I want to make other people feel this way? And then, what techniques did this scriptwriter use to get me to feel this way? This kind of backwards thinking can really get you thinking about how to achieve depth in your stories.
What do you want to accomplish as a writer? Do you want to make readers laugh, cry, think, debate…? Movies and TV shows can help you figure out who you want to be and explore other avenues. This can be especially helpful if you have hit a wall. Sometimes I’ll watch a movie and play the description game if for some reason, my characters are falling flat or I need to feel inspired.
Don’t get me wrong, movies cannot replace books. No way. Like I said in the beginning, writers have to read. But sometimes films can inspire and encourage us as writers too.
What movies inspire you? What kinds of emotions do they pull out of you?
Photo Credit: Hvnly on Flickr Commons and IGN.com
*****
Other Posts You Might Enjoy
11 Productive Ways to Procrastinate
6 Lessons for Suspense Writers from Dark Knight Rises
L.M. Montgomery said, “I am simply a ‘book drunkard.’ Books have the same irresistible temptation for me that liquor has for its devotee. I cannot withstand them.” Check out what I’m reading on Goodreads.
I’d love to connect with you. We can chat on Twitter.
2 Things I Learned from The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth
For me, a great read!
Human nature is fascinating to me, and adolescence is the period of time that interests me most. That’s probably because I was an adolescent not that long ago and I’m far enough removed from teen-dom that I can look back at that period of my life with less bias and more maturity. I was not at all the “cool kid” in high school. I wouldn’t say high school was horrible, but that was mostly because I didn’t interact with my classmates any more than was necessary.
I was that kid that everyone knew about but no one really knew. I rarely at lunch in the cafeteria, didn’t go to school dances, played a sport only because it was required. If you had to choose a label, I guess I fell into the “loner” category. Or somewhere between loner and nerd. I’m not too fond of labels though…
But imagine my surprise (and glee!) when I came across Alexandra Robbins’ book The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth. In it, she follows seven kids closely in addition to interviewing countless others, in order to find support for quirk theory.
“Quirk Theory: Many of the differences that cause a student to be excluded in school are the same traits or real-world skills that others will value, love, respect, or find compelling about that person in adulthood and outside of the school setting.”
It’s an interesting theory. Personally, with every page, I was rooting for her to make sense of my high school experience and tell me that the characteristics that pushed me toward the outside could be used to my advantage. I think she succeeded.
Have you ever wondered the distinction between geek, nerd, and dork? Photo courtesy of dullhunk on Flickr Commons
What did I learn from The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth as a writer?
1. Have a target audience.
I won’t deny that there is an obvious bias in this book. Robbins clearly seems to be trying to validate some of her own adolescent experiences. But is that a bad thing? I don’t think so.
On Goodreads, you’ll see some reviewers bashing the book because of a bias. But I would argue that this book isn’t meant for everyone. The guy who was the football god in high school but is now out of shape and still tries to bully anyone smaller than him will most likely not appreciate Robbins’ theory. But I highly doubt she wrote it with him in mind.
She likely had a specific audience–adults who grew up on the outside looking in or educators who would benefit from knowing more about the typical character types that show up in high school–and she catered to that audience.
2. When successful writers tell you to read anything and everything, they mean nonfiction too.
“Write what you know” is a severely limiting mantra in my case. I’m 24 years old and frankly, in the grand scheme of all there is to know, I don’t know a whole lot about human nature. Hopefully, I’ll meet a few interesting characters when I start graduate school in the fall, but for now books that explore psychology and sociology are my window into the minds of people I’ve never met. Books like this can be a great starting point for a writer who wants to branch out into unknown territory.
“Books are the windows through which the soul looks out.” – Henry Ward Beecher
What books have inspired your writing? Are any of them nonfiction? Let me know in the comments.
*****
Other Posts You Might Enjoy:
Are the Classics Really Worth It?
Prep vs. Good in Bed: A Lesson in Insecure Protagonists
I work from home writing all day. It’s kind of lonely, so have some fun with me on Twitter or Pinterest!
Lets share books on Goodreads!
To get email updates to my blog, hit the subscribe button up top.
Secrets of Selling a House
Selling a house is stressful…but this? This is ridiculous
I glanced down at the time flashing across my cell phone. The real estate agent was late…again. This was the third open house for my three bedroom, two bathroom home and the real estate agent had been late every time. I had spent the morning scrubbing the bathroom and adjusting my pictures. I had been told to make the house look more “homey.” What could be more homey than signs of someone using the house as home? But apparently real life homey and real estate homey are two different things.
After setting out a stack of paper to serve as a sign in sheet, I opened my door. The garden that lined the front of my house blossomed with roses and hydrangeas on my left and collard greens and squash on my right. One of the benefits of living in Southern California was that I could plant pretty much anything any time of year. One of the downsides was that property taxes were skyrocketing. And after getting laid off a year and a half ago, my mortgage was just too much.
Believing I was alone, I laid my hand on the inside of the door and felt the wood. This was home. My real estate agent said that I should make up a husband and kids, that people would be more likely to buy if they knew a family had been happy here. But why should I lie? I was happy here…isn’t that enough?
I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I didn’t notice the soft tap tap tap of a cane coming down the walkway toward my front door.
“Is this your house?” a shrill and shaky voice startled me out of my trance.
“Y-yes.” It took me a moment to gather myself, but I quickly transformed into a hostess. “Are you here for the open house? Here come on in. I’d be happy to show you around.” I reached out my hand to grab for hers but she just looked at it. I slowly pulled it back toward me.
“I would like to come in, dear,” her voice sounded less shrill. But it still shook as though she was nervous. “Do you have some tea?”
“Of course, come on in,” I stepped back and watched her carefully lift one leg and then the other over the threshold of the door. She used the door frame to prop herself up and I noticed a tremor in her hand. Her sharp eyes cut to me and indicated in no uncertain terms that I should look away.
“What kind of tea do you like?” I tried to put the hostess face back on, but there was something odd about this. “I have all kinds–green, black, white, herbal. I even have some of those dancing teas.”
“Black tea would be fine, dear,” she looked up at the ceiling and her eyes traveled down the walls. “It looks so different,” she said barely above a whisper.
I paused for a moment on my way to the kitchen and said without turning around, “You’ve been here before?”
“Oh, yes,” her voice filled with…something. Grief? Fear? I couldn’t tell.
I glanced down at my cell phone again. Where was the real estate agent?
She followed me into the kitchen where I pulled out two mugs and promptly cooked up two sets of tea in the Keurig brewer.
“Those machines are so fancy. My Jonathan always wanted one. But I was partial to my old tea kettle.”
I sipped from my mug and smiled, “Sometimes it’s easier to stick with something familiar.”
She nodded and looked around the kitchen. “The floor is different,” she said with that same odd tone.
“Yes, a few years ago I pulled up the old yellow tile and put down this Pergo floor. It kind of mimics the hardwood in the rest of the house without being difficult to clear.”
She nodded again. “And the cabinets?”
“Yes, I pulled out the old white cabinets with the curvy handles and put in these cherry oak ones. They just go with the floor better.”
“So much change. And yet I still feel her here.”
My mug paused halfway through a sip. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I didn’t think I was in danger. How could this woman who could barely walk without a cane hurt me? But something didn’t feel right. “Her?”
“My sister,” she said simply before taking another sip of tea.
“Oh, did you grow up here?”
She let out a bark of laughter. “No, the house isn’t that old, dear. No, no…” She paused and her eyes wandered back down to a particular spot on the floor. “My Jonathan died you know. He was the only one who knew.”
I set down my mug. “Knew what?”
“I suppose they wouldn’t have told you. No one knew, so how could the real estate people be able to tell you.”
Panic began to rise in my throat and my stomach flip flopped. “Knew what?” I repeated.
“My Jonathan died last week.” Her eyes cut back to me and instead of cute old lady eyes, they were dark, piercing. I tried to tell myself it was just the light but there was no mistaking the darkness that rested behind those eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I needed to come make sure no one else knew.”
“Knew what?” I whispered it this time, somehow knowing she was only going to tell me when she wanted to.
“I caught them here.” She grabbed her cane and used it to point to a spot in the far corner of the kitchen. “The dining room table used to be there. And I caught him…with her right on that table. I had spent all day working my hands to the bone as a seamstress and I come home to him doing that.”
She stared at the spot as if she could see the scene all over again. Her jaw tightened and her eyes never wavered from that spot. But her hands began to shake. I waited patiently knowing there was more to the story and not wanting to say anything to upset her.
“She’s buried there.”
The tea in my mouth dribbled back into the cup. Thoughts ran through my head and I tried to get my mouth to communicate them but nothing seemed to be working.
The old woman nodded. “I’m surprised you didn’t find her when you ripped up the floor. Although it was years ago, I guess her body would be reduced to nothing now.” She let out a soft chuckle, “Serves her right.”
She turned back to me and smiled, “I see you didn’t know. That’s fantastic. No one has to know.”
I couldn’t move. Someone had been killed in my house?! I was starting to find my voice when the front door opened. “I’m here! Oh gosh, traffic was horrid!” the real estate agent called from the foyer. “Has anyone arrived yet?”
I slowly moved from the kitchen to the foyer and mumbled necessary words as the agent put out the sign in book and set up pamphlets on a table. I went back to the kitchen to check on the old woman and found that the kitchen was empty. I looked around and even looked under the kitchen table–half hoping to find her and half hoping it was all a very bad hallucination. I would have to check on those mushrooms in the garden.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and splashed some water on my face. After a couple deep breaths, I turned and stared at the corner where supposedly a body had been buried. I was suddenly very thankful to be selling my house.
Photo Credit: Images of Money on Flickr Commons
6 Simple Ways to Beat Your Writer’s Block
William Faulkner famously said, “I only write when I am inspired. Fortunately, I am inspired at 9 o’clock every morning.”If only we could all be so lucky…
I’ve read blog posts by writers who say that writers block doesn’t exist, it’s not a real thing…it’s something made up by lazy writers to give them an excuse to do a million other things.
Used with permission from Debbie Ridpath Ohi at Inkygirl.com
Now, I’m no writing expert–not by any stretch of the imagination–but I would argue that every writer gets stuck. Even the greats like William Faulkner get stuck or spend the day writing furiously only to find by 5pm that every word is complete crap.
I get stuck quite often, actually, way more often then I would like. And I found 6 solid ways that help me over the hump of writer’s block. Maybe some of these ways will work for you!
1. Change the way you write.
I don’t mean switch from nonfiction to fiction or from third person to first. I mean literally change the way you’re writing. If you’re writing on the computer, switch to pen and paper. If you have a tablet, pull that out and start writing. If you’ve got an iPhone, let Siri do the heavy lifting for a little while. Sometime just changing what you’re doing with your hands can help shake loose some good ideas.
2. Have a dance party.
…or some other form of exercise. I have a playlist all set up and ready to go of songs that I just can’t help but move and groove to. The dance party can last 30 seconds or 5 minutes–however long you need it to. But getting the blood flowing after sitting in your office chair for awhile can really help your concentration.
3. Take a productive procrastination break.
Sometimes when I’ve found that I’ve been staring at the last sentence I wrote for a few minutes and nothing is coming to me, I know I need some sort of break. I listed awhile ago several ways to make procrastination productive and sometimes I’ll pull out one of these ways in order to give my brain a break. But set a timer! I can spend all day pinning things on Pinterest and call it “work” or adding things to my TBR list on Goodreads. But if you set a timer, you can be back to work with fresh eyes in no time!
4. Try to figure out why you are stuck.
Sometimes writer’s block can be a gift. If you’re stuck at a certain part in your novel, article, story, etc., try to figure out why you are stuck there. It could be your subconscious telling you that something’s off with your character or that something in your plot structure doesn’t quite add up. I will either talk to someone about what’s going on in my story to figure out what’s wrong or I’ll journal about it. The person you talk to doesn’t necessarily need to be a writer…sometimes it’s just helpful to bounce ideas off of a live person even if they just nod and smile. But writer’s block can sometimes reveal that something’s not quite right.
5. Free write.
If you’re having trouble coming up with any words at all, let alone the “right” word, just babble for a little while. Sometimes I’ll have my characters talk about something ridiculous (like whether penguins have knees) and eventually they get back to the matter at hand. This gives your brain a sort of mental break without having to leave the fictional world you’ve created.
6. Plan ahead.
Writer’s block can arise if you don’t know where the story is going. Take some time to outline the next few scenes or remind yourself of where you want your characters to end up. Duo Lit offers a bunch of great resources for authors, including outlines! You may just need a reminder of where the story is going to focus the scene you’re working on now.
NY Book Editors came up with a handy writer’s block map that will give you even more ideas on how to overcome your blockage problem.
Follow the map to your solution to writer’s block
What are some of the ways you overcome writer’s block? Let me know by leaving a comment. I’d love to hear from you!
Writer Resources: The Synonym Finder
Her thesaurus looked kind of like this
My grandmother’s most used and most loved book was her thesaurus. By the time she passed away in 2010, that book was literally in 5 different pieces. She and I had to hold it together with rubber bands. I can’t remember a time when that thesaurus wasn’t in her office or on one of the bookshelves in her home, so that should tell you how old it was.
She used it for her dissertation and countless other papers. I used it through middle school and high school. I enjoyed stumping my teachers by putting “big words” in my book reports.
There’s something thrilling about finding exactly the right word to say what you mean. Personally, I think it’s empowering to be able to have a good grasp of language.
When she passed and other family members were thinking of who was going to get her money, her clothes, her jewelry…I knew what I wanted. That thesaurus.
But, of course, after a series of unfortunate events, the thesaurus disappeared…probably tossed out by someone who didn’t realize it’s value. Since then (so for about three years), I’ve been on the hunt for a thesaurus that’s just as good.
The standard Oxford and Webster thesauri just weren’t going to cut it for me. I also get really frustrated by the ones where you go look up word A and it tells you “see word B” and you go to word B and it says “see word C” and then word C’s entry doesn’t really give you any words that match what you want to say!
Enter: The Synonym Finder
Best thesaurus ever!
I don’t remember the name of the thesaurus my grandmother had. The words on the cover were pretty much completely faded by the time I got around to using it. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she had an early edition of Rodale’s Synonym Finder.
It’s a huge book. Just the sheer girth of the book makes me feel like I might become smarter just by proximity. It’s not the kind of reference book that I can just pop into my purse, but when I’m at my desk working on articles or stories, it’s within arm’s reach at all times.
It’s well organized. I don’t have to worry about jumping around from word to word just to find what I’m looking for. Every entry is filled with common and unusual synonyms.
I couldn’t be more excited about it. And the fact that I know my grandmother would be equally excited about my purchase just makes it even better.
I’ve added The Synonym Finder to my stack of reference books. What else do I have?
- The Emotion Thesaurus
- The Portable MFA
- AP Stylebook
- Query Letters that Rock
- The Well Fed Writer
- College Student’s Dictionary
What reference materials do you keep handy?
Lipstick on the Wall
Note: I would rate this story as PG-13. I don’t think children are reading this blog, but I just wanted to give readers a heads up that there might be a few innuendos. Anyhow, I had fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it!
What do you use lipstick for?
I glanced down at my watch and looked nervously around the restuarant. It was our tenth date and things weren’t going as well as I had hoped. I had decided Italian food would be a good way to go. But the garlic bread was burnt and her chicken parmesan was dry. But those were small hiccups compared to the complete lack of conversation and abundance of awkward silences.
I looked at my watch again and my leg began to tremble. She had been in the bathroom for over 20 minutes. I knew women sometimes take awhile. I get that. But 20 minutes seemed a little excessive.
Gabby was a temp at the company I work for for about six months. She then moved on to another job and once she was out of the office, I felt free to call her and ask her out. I was kind of surprised that she said yes. She’s got gorgeous hair, plump lips, and legs that go on forever. I’m short for a guy and kind of, well, round. I didn’t think she’d ever go for a guy like me, but she did.
I waited another 10 minutes before deciding to get up and go check on my date.
Outside the women’s restroom, I looked back and forth to make sure no one was looking. When I was confident that the coast was clear, I peeked inside the door. I didn’t see or hear anything, so I decided to go all the way in.
“Hello?” I called out softly. I bent over to look under each of the stall doors but didn’t see any feet. I was alone.
I turned around and saw the message.
It was in red and kind of drippy on the mirror. Before my mind took the time to process the words of the short message, I began to panic. Was it blood?
I looked at it closer and saw that it was only lipstick. My hand instinctively began to rub my belly as I try to calm my nerves. Then I could process the words.
Come and get it, Capt.
Capt…it was my nickname in college. Well, one of my nicknames. When the ladies first started calling me Captain, I thought it was a sign of respect. I thought they were admiring me for my academic prowess.
Turns out Capt was short for Captain Awkward. Imagine my humiliation when I found that out.
But why would someone call me Capt now? Was it someone who knew me? I began to feel a little lightheaded. What was I supposed to come and get?
I dawned on me…whoever left the message must have taken Gabby. I quickly turned around to leave the Ladies’ Room and saw another message on the back of the door.
You have an hour to save her.
Well, that answered that question. I had an hour to find and save Gabby. I rushed out of the bathroom and then out of the restaurant. Never mind that I didn’t pay the bill, I had a woman to save.
A million thoughts flashed through my mind all at once. How does this person know about my nickname? How did they know I would check the ladies’ room? Why would they take Gabby? Would Gabby fall in love with me if I found her in time?
I hopped in my car and started the ignition with the intention of speeding out of the parking lot. My heart quickly sank when I realized I didn’t know where to go. I had no idea where to even start looking for Gabby. I needed more clues.
I rushed back into the restaurant and headed straight for the waiter who gave Gabby and me our food.
“Someone was in the bathroom earlier, the ladies’ room,” I started breathlessly. I felt sweat begin to run down my armpits. How attractive. “Did you see anyone go in there? Maybe someone who didn’t look like they belonged?”
The waiter stared at me with impatience. “I saw you go in there. You know it’s the ladies’ room, right?”
“Please just answer the question.”
“There was a woman in there earlier. I remember her because most women who come in here for dinner are wearing cocktail dresses and have their hair and makeup done nicely. This woman wore pants. She almost looked like a cater waiter. She had a tattoo on her neck too. Looked like it hurt.”
I gave a nod and walked away. Once I was back in my car, I kicked myself for not thanking the waiter…and then kicked myself again for not paying the bill while I was in there. No time for regrets though. I only had about 47 minutes left to find Gabby.
I banged on the steering wheel as I tried to think…someone who knows my nickname and has a tattoo on her neck. Why would a woman take Gabby?
My head snapped back as I realized who the culprit was. I fished my phone out of my pocket and searched my recent calls list for her number.
“Hello?” she answered after the first ring. She had been expecting my call.
“Brit, what are you doing?”
“Why, Capt., whatever do you mean?” I could just see her batting her eyes at the phone, trying to distract me from the matter at hand.
“You know what I mean,” I snapped, “What did you do with Gabby?”
“Gabby? Who’s that?”
I almost threw the phone. “You know exactly who she is!” I screamed. I didn’t have time for her games. “Look, I know you weren’t exactly pleased with the way things ended between us, but you can’t go sabotaging every relationship I have. It’s not fair. Just…let it go.”
“Let it go? Who do you think you are to talk to me about letting things go? Might I remind you that you are the one who is always chasing after these long-legged bimbos hoping that they will one day love you the way you love them and see you the way you see them. Well, guess what Capt? It’s not happening. I don’t know Gabby but I can already tell you she will never love you like I loved you.”
I made a noise to interject but she cut me off. “I didn’t do anything. I saw you tonight at the restaurant but I didn’t do anything.”
“Why were you there?”
She paused. After a soft grunt, she answered, “I work part-time for the restaurant’s catering company. I had a gig tonight and was dropping off the van. That’s it. Now what’s this about Gabby?”
I leaned back in the chair and sighed. I thought I had the case closed. It’s always supposed to be the crazy ex-girlfriend, right? “Brit, someone took Gabby. Someone who knows my nickname. They said I had an hour to save her. That was…45 minutes ago. I don’t even know where to begin looking.”
“Did you call the police?”
Heat rushed to my face as my level of exasperation reached a new high. “I only had an hour! It would have taken just that long to explain things to the police. She’s going to die because of me.”
“Die? How do you know she’s going to die?”
“I don’t know for sure…I just figured…I mean, when someone leaves a threatening note for you, they probably are out for blood.”
“What did the note say exactly?”
I told her what each note said and listened to her thinking on the other end of the line. She always moaned softly when she was thinking hard. “Neither message actually said anything threatening, Capt. Do you think maybe it’s just a prank?”
I froze. Was I blowing all this out of proportion? “I’ve got to go,” I muttered and then hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
I threw the car into gear and sped out of the parking lot just like I had originally intended.
Exactly 12 minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of Gabby’s apartment complex. I had 3 minutes before my hour was up. Fortunately, her apartment was on the first floor.
When I got to her door, it was slightly ajar. I smiled and went in. Gabby was sitting on the bed wearing…well, as a gentleman, I’ll keep what she was wearing to myself. She had a glass of wine in one hand and was fiddling with the strap on her high heel with the other.
“Oh,” she perked up when she saw me. “You’re here! It’s about time.”
“I’m sorry, I…didn’t quite understand your message at first. But I got it and I’m here now.”
“Well, come on Capt.” She motioned with her finger for me to follow her to the couch. “Let’s play.”
Um, yeah, best date ever.
Oh, application season…and the MFA debate
Yeah, I was speechless…
If there is ever a time when you want eloquent words to flow from your mouth, it’s when a graduate school calls you.
I got a call this morning from Fairleigh Dickinson University to let me know that I have been accepted into their MFA program in Creative Writing. After I choked back the initial WHOOT! that rose up in my throat, I tried to find the right words of gratitude and excitement. None came.
She continued to tell me that I’ll be getting a packet in the mail and she wanted to know if I had an initial questions. The entire time I was opening and closing my mouth like a fish as I searched for words. Any words!
I did manage to push out what I thought was a very enthusiastic “thank you” and let her know that I would definitely have questions later. I hung up the phone and threw myself into dance party mode. Like a Meredith and Cristina level dance party.
I’ve noticed that writers are generally divided when it comes to MFA programs. Jennifer Weiner, one of the authors I secretly wish would become my mentor, says that an MFA isn’t necessary. I agree with many of the points she makes. I’m not getting an MFA because it’s absolutely necessary and I will never be a successful writer without one. *insert dramatic face*
On the other side of the fence is writers like George Saunders, who recently published a set of short stories called “Tenth of December.” He’s on my Goodreads “to read” list. In a recent interview, Saunders says that an MFA is worth the money and that working through fiction and poetry makes us not only better writers but also better people. …Sounds pretty good to me!
What are my reasons? I can have a very creative mind. But I wanted a program that could help me harness my creativity and show me how to tell the difference between a thought that is brilliant to me and a thought that is actually brilliant. Also, having an MFA under my belt will help me qualify for teaching positions, which is another thing I really, really want to do.
Plus…I really like school. While I don’t see myself becoming a “career student,” I always knew I would go to graduate school. The question wasn’t: “Am I going to get a master’s degree or a PhD?” The question was: “What the heck am I going to go to grad school for?” Creative writing makes the most sense in my case.
I’m beyond excited. I applied to a bunch of other schools, but the feeling I have now is just complete elation. Even if all the other schools say “you suck!,” I’ll still get my MFA in Creative Writing.
Time to get back to work! I’m trying to avoid the typical creative process (see photo), but alas it’s hard to avoid it.
Too true…
But before I go, I leave you with some wise words of empowerment for readers and writers alike: “Without words, without writing and without books there could be no history, there could be no concept of humanity.” –Hermann Hesse
Where are you on the MFA debate? For? Against? Tell me in the comments.
15 Rules for Being Self-Employed
Isn’t this what other people think self-employed folk do all day?
I have been self-employed for awhile now. And it’s definitely an adjustment from the typical 9 to 5 lifestyle. In a way, it can be liberating. But working from home and being my own boss isn’t always fun and games. I’ve had to set rules for myself just like any employer would. Here are my top 15 rules.
- Write every day.
- No one is going to deduct taxes from my checks for me. And in order to stay out of trouble, I need to do it myself.
- Just because no one has to see or smell me doesn’t mean I can slack in personal hygiene. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.
- As tempting as it is to work in pajamas, that can oftentimes be counterproductive.
- Pick a space and designate it as my productivity space. When I’m in that chair, it’s time to work.
- Don’t work in bed…just don’t do it.
- I’m my boss. That means I have to give myself assignments everyday. If I don’t, bad things happen…like bills not getting paid.
- As a freelancer, it’s crucial that I have an emergency fund and a retirement account set up.
- Spending a little bit of money on fruits, veggies, and vitamins now will save me money later on doctor’s bills.
- I’m running a business. Just because my office is also my bedroom doesn’t give me license to act unprofessional.
- Professionalism and reliability are my middle names.
- Being in close proximity to the kitchen does not give me license to eat all the time. Be mindful about what goes in my mouth.
- It’s great that I get to set my own hours, but that also means there’s no clear end to the work day. I have to set my own end to the day and seriously not do work after that.
- Boundaries must be set with regular working people. Just because I’m working from home does not mean I have a ton of free time.
- The butt to chair ritual is crucial but so is getting out, getting some fresh air and interacting with people.
Are you self-employed? What rules do you have to keep yourself on track?
Hamburgers on Thanksgiving
Yummy, yummy, but…where’s the turkey?
Note to readers: I wrote this one shortly after Thanksgiving and then got swept up in a whirlwind of holiday and work craziness. That’s why I haven’t been posting as much. But I am trying to get it together! Here’s a little story for your reading pleasure.
My mom called me on Monday screaming into the phone.
Jasmine Evans: Author 