10 Minute Writer

See the above photo? It is a cover of a book (sadly, not mine.) If my main character, Suzanne were a real person, she would look like this woman. Her new baby would look like this baby. And her baby needs a name!

I have collected eight name suggestions from my Twitter and Facebook friends. I also had the strong opinions from my tween girls who were supposed to be cleaning the kitchen. Below are those suggestions, plus a middle name attached. Please leave a comment, choosing the three names that you like the best.

Rules.
1. Please only vote once. We all have more important things to do than this.
2. Please don’t say that you’d rearrange the middles with different firsts. I’m trying to keep this simple. You can always write your own novel (or get pregnant again), if that name is so important to you.
3. Please don’t vote any later than 6 PM, EST, Monday, June 7, 2010. I need to finalize the top three after that.
4. You don’t have to worry about ranking them in order of preference, each vote is equal. I don’t want to get into any kind of higher math with this project.
5. Once I get the top three names, we’ll vote one more time for the big winner. Unless my readers are completely bored and then I’ll throw them all in a hat and hope for the best. We’re not leaving this to my husband. He wanted to name our first daughter “Alpha”.
6. Also, keep in mind the following: Our new baby is the fourth child to Quentin and Suzanne Roach. They already have a Caleb Michael, Nicholas Scott and Lily Elizabeth.

Okay! Here are the names:

Emma Faith
Brianna Rose
Annabelle Hope
Samantha Grace
Bethany Joy
Amy Victoria
Sophia Michelle
Melody Jane

Remember, just three! Can’t wait to see what you’ll choose!

Since yesterday, my Twitter and Facebook friends have been throwing suggestions around for my baby’s name. No, not that baby, the baby in my book. In the last few chapters, my POV character, Suzanne Roach, gives birth to her fourth child, a daughter. This sweet little baby (who looks a lot like the baby in the book cover above) needs a name and I want my readers/fans/distracted children to help me name her.

I collected all of the suggestions given by my readers and mulled them over in my brain. I have a few rules of elimination that helped narrow it down, like these:

1. No R names. Loved Ruby Simone. But Ruby Roach just isn’t very attractive.

2. No single syllable names. Doesn’t work well with the single syllable Roach. Since my last name is Grubb, I have thought long and hard about this and I prefer a longer name. This is why we have a Veronica.

3. Also, I have eliminated any names that are already attached to current family members, so I’ve taken out Erin, Sarah, Katelyn, Kristin, Alyssa, Shannon, Ariel, Miranda and of course, Veronica. Or, other characters in the book: Kim, Suzanne, Jeana, Lola, Sharlene and Georgia.

4. No variations on Katharine. It’s flattering that you should suggest. But no.

5. No names that are dated. We didn’t have a Peggy Jean suggested, but just in case we do, that’s my rule.

6. Also, I eliminated any names that have PG-13 connections. Love the name Delilah. But since this is a faith-based book, geared toward people who probably put Jesus fish on their mini-vans, I’m going to pass. Ditto for Jezebel.

7. There’s this whole meaning thing. I don’t want to go nutty with symbolism. But if a girl’s name fits the theme of the book, which is grace and mercy, it’s more likely to be on the list than Cassandra, whose name means “she who entangles”.

8. And then, sadly, there are just some names I don’t like. For example, I see Isabel way too frequently in works of fiction. And then there was this former nemesis of mine name Rhonda. I might pass on your name for weird reasons. I’m the novelist, so that makes me the boss. Sorry.

9. Lastly, I tacked on a middle name, one that I thought fit phonetically and rhythmically. I realize that I might have just ruined your favorite name for you, but babies are given two names, not one, usually. (Unless you’re Veronica Blythe Shalom Grubb whose personality demands three.)

So here are my name choices, but please — DON”T VOTE YET! That comes tomorrow. I want you to think over this, discuss it at your weekend barbecue, talk about it at church, but don’t vote until you get permission on this blog. Tomorrow, I’ll explain the rules and all. You never know, there might be a prize . . .

Emma Faith
Brianna Rose
Annabelle Hope
Samantha Grace
Bethany Joy
Amy Victoria
Sophia Michelle
Melody Jane

I’m afraid of a lot of things.

I’m afraid to fly — even though I travel to Oklahoma at least once a year. I’m afraid of confrontation — and things like calling customer service, tech support or insurance companies make my heart beat faster and my hands shake. I’m afraid that my children might offend someone in public (they have, but never for anything serious) and I’ll have to grovel to apologize. I’m afraid of mice in my house (typing this sentence made a chill go up my spine.) At times when I drive, I panic just a little, especially when I’m with all my children. I’m afraid that something unexpected will happen, like that bus coming toward me will swerve and hit me head on. I’m afraid of meeting new people. Holding out my hand and saying, “I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Katharine” takes all of my strength and concentration. I have a few theories as to why I have so much fear in my life. The source, from what I can see, is deeper than just worry.

But I’m also courageous. I once flew across the country to meet a man with whom I shared an e-mail relationship for nine months. I married that man. I also had two children less than fifteen months apart (not deliberately). Then I had three more children, two of which were sort of against my doctor’s advice. I homeschool, which could be interpreted that I’m just too lazy to take my kids to the bus stop every morning. I intend to continue homeschooling indefinitely. (My youngest child is four. I may do this for thirteen more years.) I’ve also taught myself to cook and clean house. I bake all my bread from scratch. I cut my kids’ hair. I teach Sunday School. I encouraged my husband to quit his job and start a business. I have a few theories as to why I can muster up courage to do these things. The source, from what I can see, is deeper than just my own personality.

This last week two things came up that made me choose either to be fearful or be courageous: starting a garden and rewriting my novel.

First the garden: We have a 15′X6′ plot in the backyard that has enough sun for vegetables. Last year it grew weeds and it didn’t bother me one bit. In years past, we’ve grown tomatoes and herbs successfully but we’ve failed at squash and anything started by seeds. I’m not an expert. I don’t know that much. I have enough to do, thank you. When it was suggested by my husband that I attempt a garden this year, I balked. I don’t remember if my excuses were fear based or laziness based, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I was quite happy with my summer plans. The labor and expense of gardening, in addition to my other work, just seemed a bit much. But my ten-year-old daughter was very excited about it, and I think once I realized that the weekly maintenance could confidently be put on her shoulders, I changed my mind. So, last Saturday we began our garden.

Once I got going, I didn’t want to stop. We moved perennials to the front yard, now it is the nicest it’s ever been. I mowed the lawn (this was quite an accomplishment since being married, I just let my husband handle it. It took courage to do it all myself.) I shopped for soil (going to Lowes alone with five children looking for vermiculite is no small thing). I chose vegetables, herbs and seeds (we’re getting right back on that horse, see). And surprisingly, all of my children were so enthusiastic about this project, that it wasn’t the work I thought it was. It was fun. We’ll spend the entire summer enjoying our garden.

Now the novel: I read this book
:

This book explains all the mistakes that new writers make when submitting their manuscripts. As a result, I was completely deflated. This book pointed out the many, many flaws I have in it so far. I do not have what I thought I had. I have verb tense issues. I say “sigh” and “smile” way, way too many times. I haven’t fully defined the emotional objectives of my main characters. I do not have a hint of an ending. I think I went down a few too many rabbit trails. What really happened is this: I experienced the literary equivalent of being head on by a bus– my fears were realized. I see now that I need to work harder to improve my writing. I need to develop my craft and I’m taking it personally.

I am afraid to continue. When I think about writing, I get a shiver up my spine, my palms go sweaty and I want the flight attendant to bring me some wine. I don’t like this feeling. Quite frankly, I’m ready to chuck the whole thing and just think about gardening. (Mmmm, tomatoes!)

There’s something inside of me that convinces me quitting is the wrong thing to do. Way back in ’95, when I had the chance to meet my future husband, I knew that if I didn’t follow through and fly to see him, I’d probably regret it the rest of my life. If I’m really honest, I think the same is true with this novel. If I don’t go through and painstakingly rewrite all 27+ chapters, I’ll regret it. I’ll have to live with the knowledge that I hid from my story. What’s worse than being afraid? Knowing that your fear kept you from happiness.

The rewrite will go slowly, I’m sure. I don’t know what I’m doing. My goal of finishing this book next spring might not happen. Something bad might stop me — I am truly afraid. But I think it’s time to get my hands dirty. I don’t know what the future holds. But I do have a husband and five children watching me to see if I’ll face my fears or hide from them.

Something inside of me, perhaps it’s a supernatural courage, will keep me going. Courage, I’ve decided, even with my shaky hands, is my new playmate this summer. It doesn’t matter if I succeed or fail. With courage, I’ll enjoy myself. I’ll be glad I did.

And that’s a lot more fun than being afraid.

I printed my Work-In-Progress.

All twenty chapters. Or at least I thought it was twenty chapters. About chapter six, I realized I mislabeled them, so it really worked out to twenty-two. I considered printing out the remaining seven, but I ran out of paper and I was too lazy to go downstairs and get another ream.

So, for the first time in over a year, my novel is printed out, in a binder and ready to read like a book.

I don’t know if I was ready for this step. The final climactic scene was approaching. Nebulous, unclear tension was building among the characters. I only have the loosest idea of what is going to happen next. I felt like I’d forgotten my vision. Going backward, instead of forward, seemed like a good idea, perhaps it would re-ground me in the story.

I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately about craft, passive voice and mistakes new authors make. I knew I was guilty of a few new author sins. Finding out now is better than finding out later, right? By printing out my “baby” and carefully reading every chapters, maybe I could tweak it. I even made a checklist — what exactly to look for in every chapter. This was not only a good practice, but I might see what an agent or an editor sees. But overall, my work is fine, I naively believed. Just fine.

I decided that highlighting all of the verbs in my wip would be a great exercise, that way when I re-wrote it, I could beef the weak verbs up a little. I picked a yellow-green crayon (not a green-yellow one, mind you) and started marking. (Don’t like high-lighters. They bleed through. And I don’t like losing the cap.)

OH. MY. GOODNESS. I want to take this moment to apologize to anyone who has read any section of this work. I am not what I think I am and my work-in-progress shows it. First of all, my extremely bad habit of using passive voice is evident everywhere! I probably use the verb “sighed” at least four times per chapter! Readers could use any reference to “eyes” during the course of a dialogue as a drinking game. And if my characters “smile” at each other one more time, I’m going to turn this whole thing into a vampire love story. (I’m pretty sure smiling is not a problem for them.)

AHHH! THE ANGUISH! Next, my verbs are lame. They’re worse than lame. They are uninspired, lazy and imprecise. I unashamedly use “be” verbs or should, could and would as crutches. If I had a dime for every time I wrote “seemed to” or “started to”, I would hire a cook so I could use my meal prep time to cut my literary wrists.

If the verb problem wasn’t enough, I also have a plot problem. My big final scene is kind of cliche (a tornado in Oklahoma). If I omit it, then I’m not bound to the timeline (tornados are most common in April and May). If that’s the case, then I have the freedom to squish some events together, eliminate tangents and strengthen holey sub-plots. A reader friend of mine doesn’t love one character’s name. She also thinks that pretentious, appearance obsessed pastor’s wives are not plausible. I don’t agree, but I want to do the right thing. (This seems to make me want to sigh. Drat! I did it again!)

This whole exercise in self-editing is exhausting. At best, I’m plowing through, page by page, determined to finish the highlighting so the intense re-writing can begin. At worst, I’m questioning my skill, my idea and vision for publication. The path from self-editing to self-loathing is just a few steps apart from each other.

I realize, in between tears, that this is all part of the process. If I want to submit an excellent work, I’m going to have work hard for it. Crack a few eggs to make an omelet. Think of some more cliches so I have more to omit. If there is any common thought among the writer blogs I read it is this: successful writers work on their craft. Writing is hard work. Diligence and excellence will pay off someday. Just. Keep. Going.

I printed out my novel this week and now it’s a marked up mess of crayon, ink, and tears.

And someday, if I keep at it, it will be beautiful.

From what I hear, it’s Writing Conference Season! I’ve only been to one, and that was back in ’94, so I’m kind of fuzzy on what it means to attend. But I do know this: if you attend and plan on speaking with an agent, publisher or agent, you might want to know your genre. Genres seem to multiply every year, in fact, back in ’94, no one had even heard of the Crime Fighting Necromancer line. Since I am the foremost expert on literary trends in my household, I thought I would help you with your genre insecurities by offering a little quiz!

Just answer the questions below about your current work-in-progress. When you’re done, tally the score and ta-da, you are in great shape to meet that agent.

1. Your definition of success is:
A. Someone meets you at a convention and they are dressed just like your good looking, but slightly manical commander
B. Your pure bred poodles, named Barbara, Danielle and Jackie, all now have customized down beds with solid gold monograms
C. Nathan Fillion is the first actor on board for the straight to DVD film version.
D. Your biggest fans send you e-mails confessing that their moods have improved from angst-ridden to just a little cranky
E. No one has ever heard of you.

2. Your protagonist’s name is:
A: Stormy
B: Alexandria Culpepper Montgomery O’Hara Von Snipple
C. Max or Cal or Van (something hard with one syllable)
D. Isabelle (but you prefer to called Izzy)
E. Your protagonist is unnamed until the last chapter and then it turns out to be a tiger with a purple head

3. One of the conflicts involves a:
A. Flux Capacitor
B. Firing the maid, who turns out to be the illegitimate of the landscaper that you just saw with his shirt off
C. Terrorist plot, a paper clip and an unending supply of cell phones
D. Popularity contests, cheerleaders who are always mean and possibly of getting your period
E. Conflict? Only if you mean conflict like the air might struggle to enter our lungs type of way.

4. On the cover of your book you have a:
A. Galaxy, probably the artists’ interpretation of the Bellavue 2000
B. A chiseled, tanned and shirtless man with really long hair, and lots of pink, swirly letters
C. Something pointy, like a dagger, or fingernails, or pointy fingernails that drip blood
D. A girl looking very sad, with eyelashes so long that they are biologically impossible
E. A Cover? Covers are so 2009. Readers who won’t read the Kindle version don’t deserve you.

5. The main setting of your book is a:
A. Either a planet that has not yet been discovered or a starship in the shape of a nightlight
B. A castle that is cold and drafty enough to have blazing fires in the hearths, but not so cold that you would object to having a bodice ripped.
C. A dark street alley that for some explicable reason never, ever sees sunlight
D. A middle school, where all the teachers are self-righteous narcissists, except for one who is really, really dreamy.
E. A metaphor, naturally. It’s completely explained on page 89, which, if you know anything, is a symbol of the fall of the Berlin Wall. So, duh, it’s Cuba.

6. Your average reader:
A. Lives at home, in a dark room, and has spent more money on graphic novels than on real life outings with members of the opposite sex.
B. Owns more than one pair of black stretch pants.
C. Suspects that they have an implant in their brain, put there by the government, and considers income taxes optional
D. Writes really bad poetry, or picks at the blemishes on their face, or does both simultaneously.
E. Has never seen a cow, except on packages of free range, grain fed, hormone free, cruelty free packages at Whole Foods. That is, if they dare to eat meat.

7. If your wip were an article of clothing, it would be:
A. A Starfleet uniform.
B. A feather boa.
C. A wool suit in need of dry cleaning.
D. A superfluous scarf, probably in black.
E. Driving mocassins from Orvis.

8. The word that you have to delete out of your wip the most frequently is:
A. Chase
B. Lustily
C. Gun
D. Sigh
E. Almost always written in French

9. The worst advice your non-writer friends have given you about your writing was:
A. That your characters should have feelings.
B. That your characters should have jobs.
C. That your characters should smile once in a while.
D. That your character should grow out of it.
E. That dialogue should possibly start before page 321.

10. You’ve just optioned film rights. Your agent talked to the director and they pitch your movie as:
A. Battlestar Galactica meets Twilight
B. When Harry Met Sally meets Dangerous Liasons
C. The Bourne Identity meets CSI
D. Glee meets Gilmore Girls
E. Completely unmarketable in the U.S. You take this as a compliment.

11. You just deleted this line of dialogue because it was totally unrealistic for your protagonist:
A: “I’m not really into risk taking. Darn. I just broke a nail.”
B. “You know, marriage is hard work. I think I’m just going to see a therapist and take up gardening.”
C. “I would rather someone with jurisdiction handle this problem. I’m calling the police. They’d love to have this case. I’m a nobody.”
D. “My parents are so full of good advice. I’ll listen to them.”
E. “Go Sarah Palin!”

Congratulations! You so close to world wide fame! Now, let’s tally!

Mostly A’s: You like the Sci-Fi! You have a strong opinion about the use of the term Sci-Fi and there is at least one room in your house devoted to Gene Roddenberry
Mostly B’s: Cue the violin music! You are a Romance writer! You believe in true love, that getting “cuddly” on the beach is more fun than uncomfortable, and that all stories have happy endings.
Mostly C’s: You’re a Thriller writer! If you look at this blog carefully, there is a secret message, possibly from You Know Who, if you decode every 64th letter.
Mostly D’s: There is something hopeful, poetic and pure about being a Young Adult novelist. If nothing else, it gives you an excuse to read your daughter’s diary — you know, for research.
Mostly E’s: As if you even had to take this quiz . . . you are a literary writer! For each dime you spent on that high-priced MFA, you’ve taken ten steps away from Book of The Month Club. Your next work might be written in a language that you’ve made up.

My apologies to any writers who dabble in Amish Barn Raisings, Western Red Neck Mysteries, Vampire Love Triangles or Maritime Adventures with Those Who are Vertically Impaired. We live in a literary world that likes to categorize. If you don’t fit into any of these categories, or any of the genres that you might find at your local Borders, you might need to re-think your Raison D’etre, possibly grow in self-confidence or just practice your pitch.

Seriously, write. Work hard. Learn all you can. And when you get back from that conference, tell me all about it. I’d love to learn with you.

I feel like everyone is in on the secret.

This is what happens when you follow writers on Twitter. You see tweets like this: “The novel I started writing six weeks ago is almost done! Now to re-write!” or “I re-wrote Chapter 2 and now it’s awesome! I’ll finish 3 and 4 tonight!” or “My goal for the day is 4K words! I’m almost there! I have 6K more and I’m done with the book!”

Which translates in my brain to this: “Novel? In six weeks? This person does NOT have kids.” “You re-wrote Chapter 2 only once? What exactly is your definition of awesome?” “Done? What? How? Huh?”

Which draws to this conclusion: “Yes, I do homeschool and have five children, but still, I must be doing it wrong because it takes me forever to finish!” Or, “Everybody’s better than me.”

Now I don’t know what the truth is. I can’t look over everyone’s shoulder and view their WIP. All I know is what I do and what I was taught in my professional writing courses back in the ’80′s. “Writing is re-writing.”

On my bad days, I get kind of smug. I decide that these Twitter writers are the ones who are doing it wrong. My tedious, structure changing, line-editing, Glee-watching exercises are what make me a strong writer. When they say they are “done”, I say, “Yeah, enjoy it while you can. Your editor, agent, bff, crit group and Mama are going to rip you to shreds.”

On my good days, I get really fearful. I decide that the Twitter writers are my direct competition, even though I don’t hear a lot of trending topics about satirical family sagas set in Northeastern Oklahoma, I figure that if they are faster, better and more thorough, then I need to step up my game and spend even more time in my painstaking process of re-writing. (Which, if I talked the talk, I would have shortened that ridiculously long sentence.)

I have no guidance here. I have no crit group. I have no agent or editor. My bff and my Mama aren’t particularly interested. I don’t really know if I’m doing it the right way or the wrong way.

There are Checklist articles like this one that are helpful. More theoretical ones like this.

I’m not sure what the answer is. So, I guess I need to stop panicking over my WIP, keep plugging away and write the very best book I can.

Maybe that’s the secret after all.

Red State Blues is my very first novel ever. I have been working on it for three and a half years. I really don’t know how to write a novel and for all of that time, I’ve just figured it out as I went along.

In this time, I’ve learned a little about the writing process. I’ve noticed that each chapter (which in my mind they all stand as individual units for now) has a life cycle. They all seem to go through similar stages. With each stage comes different skill sets, different emotional responses and different rewards. Each chapter, it seems to be just as physically and emotionally demanding as giving birth. (All right, maybe not that bad.) But since I have given birth five times, I kind of get this metaphor and how I can use it to explain the progress of my chapters.

So this is how I do it. Keep in mind, that I am not a full time writer. I work on my novel, after homeschooling, laundry, baking bread, cleaning the house, taking kids’ to the playground, library and church, cooking meals and putting kids to bed.

I’m adding in my emotional gauge: Writing a chapter is an emotional roller coaster of Disney World proportions and the wait for completion is almost as long as any line for Space Mountain. I’ve created a scale, of 1-10, that generally gauges my emotional state. Ten, the highest, means that I am ecstatic, confident and fully convinced that I will win a Pulitzer, or at least a Christy. A one, however, on the opposite end of the scale is the feeling of complete despondency, that I can’t even form sentences and if I am famous for anything it will be blog entries like Is Your Avatar Creepy? So, here we go:

THE FIRST WEEK

Step 1. Conception. This isn’t too difficult. Because it is the next chapter, and because I’ve been thinking about this story for over three years, I kinda have an idea of what is going to happen next: But before I even think that, I type two words at the top: “Chapter 27″. (Or whatever chapter it happens to be.) Laugh if you must. But once I forgot this step and completely skipped Chapter 23. Emotional Gauge: 8: I don’t know what I am complaining about. This is EEE-ZEEEE!

Step 2. Gestation: I create a bullet list of all that needs to be mentioned or addressed in this chapter. There are story lines that must be followed, red herrings that must be mentioned, new conflicts introduced. This bullet list might look something like this: Marty makes romantic gesture to Kim. Jeffrey convinces Kim to attend Board meeting. Eliza mentions at meeting that Marty’s hiring is suspicious. Don isn’t at meeting. Eddie has to be mentioned. I might even go back and re-read that last chapter and make sure I haven’t missed anything. I also brainstorm for active things for my characters to do, like fiddle with a Big Gulp straw. Or hide under a desk to avoid going to a meeting. Emotional Gauge: 9 I’m going to finish this chapter tomorrow, no problem.

Step 3. I make an outline that arranges those bullet points in chronological order. I also add a little more detail, like assigning emotions to each character. Marty is confused. Jeffrey is hopeful. Eliza is suspicious. And for my main character, I make sure at this point I really understand her objective. Kim wants to know Marty better, and she’s trying to avoid Jeffrey and she is determined not to waste her evening at a Board Meeting. Emotional Gauge: 6 This the weakest chapter I have ever written in my life, maybe it will turn around?

Step 4. I start writing from the beginning of the outline onward, answering this question: “What does everybody want?”. More specifically, I free write. This chapter is filled with dialogue, and I like writing dialogue, so I just write what the characters are going to say to each other. I don’t worry about quotation marks, spelling or punctuation. I DO NOT overthink this. This is a brainstorm, free-write, avalanche of ideas. I don’t spend time on where they were standing, or their physical description, I just write what they say. Often, great one liners come out of this, or a find a dynamic that I wasn’t expecting. Like this: Jeffrey has revealed to one Board member, Patti, that he’s convinced that God told him he would marry Kim. Or, Spike, another Board Member, generally approves of every idea or policy that doesn’t inconvenience him personally, since he is the custodian. If this is a chapter where dialogue isn’t so prevalent, then I put myself in the mind of the POV character and try to just riff on what they would be thinking, what do they want? Emotional Gauge: 7 Looking better. Some of these ideas are brilliant.

THE SECOND WEEK

Step 5. I look at all of the dialogue and panic. What was I thinking? I don’t have any spelling? Punctuation? I’m not even sure who’s talking? Emotional Gauge: 3 That’s it. I quit. I’m going to blog tomorrow — a quiz maybe on Which breakfast cereal are you?

Step 6: I give it a day or two and come back to it. This is where I print out everything I have so far and grab a pen and go to the living room. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I do know that marking this paper up while I watch Glee will somehow create some magic. Emotional Gauge: 9 Glee is on!

Step 7: I read what I wrote during Glee. While I watched television, I pored over the dialogue. I struck out what wasn’t necessary. I drew boxes around what I liked. I wrote notes like: Start here. If something needed to be moved, I wrote insert A here, and then the section that was to be moved was marked “A”. If there was a metaphor, I might circle and write: expand on this. At the end, I might have written myself questions, like: What is going through Kim’s mind while the Board argues? Does Don call in the middle of the meeting or does he show up late? When does she mention the missing railroad ties? In this step, I’m at the computer, deleting, moving things around, trying to answer questions. If I get stuck, I do not linger, I just plow through until all the notes are addressed. Emotional Gauge: 6 This still isn’t gellin’ like I want it to. None of the other chapters were this hard.

THE THIRD WEEK

Step 8: Labor: I print it all out again and repeat step 6 & 7 continuously, but at the computer. At this point I’m usually stuck and discouraged. But instead of beating myself up over the trouble spots, I just go to what I know I can handle. This is where I add in where people are standing (or “blocking” for you acting types), important descriptives, and answers to easy questions.Then I read it again. Sometimes I have to print it out and re-mark it up, especially if the metaphors are weak, or the chronological order needs help. In some chapters, it only takes me a couple more revisions and I’m done, but not always.

In one of my previous chapters, I was at this point and could not, for the life of me, figure out what was wrong. Technically, the chapter was fine, but it needed an extra layer of something. My POV was cleaning house and thinking about all the changes her life. I tweeted about it and someone asked me: “What’s in your POV’s pocket?” Truthfully, she didn’t have a pocket. But then it struck me. She should have candy in her pocket! She is strictly anti-sugar, but she is also 7 weeks pregnant and miserable. She couldn’t clean her house without her children’s help. She was forced to bribe them with candy. This became a symbol of her many life changes. Her emotional state took on an new depth. My chapter was finished!

Emotional Gauge: 4 I am SO tired. If I ever autograph a copy of this book, I’m going to write in the beginning: I BLED FOR THIS! It is worth SO MUCH MORE THAN $17.99! YOU BETTER LOVE IT WITH EVERYTHING THAT IS IN YOU!

THE FOURTH WEEK

Step 9: I am almost there! I read it out loud, with a pen in hand. The majority of the revision is behind me, now I’m looking for things that sound weird, spelling, grammar, confusing dialogue tags, anything. I make the revisions and fix them on the computer. I can see the ending! Emotional Gauge: 8 This isn’t terrible! I’m really happy with this!

Step 10: Delivery: On Saturday night, I call Roseanne. Roseanne is a friend of mine who wants to be a writer but does not have a computer. To be fair, she is 59, a full time nanny, a single mom putting her daughter through college. We talk every other Saturday night or so to catch up on life, to encourage each other and to talk about writing. When I have a completed chapter, I read it over the phone to Roseanne. I also have a pen in hand, in case I see a mistake.

Roseanne is the perfect audience. She laughs in all the right places. She tells me when she is moved. She is just beginning her journey as a writer, so she doesn’t yet have that critical eye — which is awesome — so she never questions me on plot or structure or dialogue. Calling Roseanne is the reward for finishing, especially if she gushes, which she often does. Emotional Gauge: 10 I was born to do this. I am a good writer.

I think everybody should have a Roseanne in their lives. Her voice not the voice of criticism or a crit group, or an agent or an editor, but a friend who loves and supports me no matter what. When I hang up after speaking with Roseanne, I have confidence.

I have given birth five times. Each time the pain, the complications and the exhaustion were overwhelming. Having babies was never easy for me. But somehow, after I had recovered and finally had a smiling six month old, I forgot all of the difficulty and stress. Writing this novel, a chapter at a time, is a lot like that.

Step 11: I create a new document. Type “Chapter 28″ and start all over again.

What To Do?

Writer’s block, from what I understand it to be, is a place of inactivity. It’s when the keys on the keyboard are not clicking, when the smoke in the ears has stopped billowing, when the engine has slowed. Writer’s block is when there are no words to get out. It’s the literary equivalent of constipation. If we are to be serious writers, then we must deal with our writer’s block seriously. My theory (and this is pretty self righteous of me because I’m not a ‘published’ writer in the traditional sense) is that all writers need to have a plan when writer’s block strikes — not just sit around and tweet about it.

I also believe there are different types of writer’s block. There’s the type that is due to severe emotional issues or stress or something psychological. I’m going to call this Macro-Block. It’s big and nasty and it’s hard to know how to handle it. I suffered from Macro-Block from 1995 to 2004. If it weren’t for lots of prayer, reading The Artist’s Way and specific Veggie Tales videos, I’d still be there.

The other kind, I’m calling Micro-Block. It’s for the times when you have sufficiently kept the emotional wolves at bay and you need to finish a project, but you can’t come up with an idea, a plot point, a hook, or a conclusion. This is easier to fix. It’s this type of block that professional, full-time writers are brilliant at overcoming. I think we not-so-full-time writers can learn a little from them.

Mirco-block is often misunderstood. When I get it, I naturally assume that I’m on a slippery slope to that dungeon of macro-block. The truth is that micro-block is a normal part of the process. Writing, to use one more metaphor, is like the sea, full of ebbs and flows, storms and doldrums. It would benefit any writer to have a collection of micro-block breakers to help them get those ideas flowing.

1. Write a hate e-mail. (Please don’t mail it.) Get out everything you want to say to your rival or your nemesis. Getting out this emotion might do the trick to release your emotional state so that you can work on your project.

2. Practice writing on other things. Write 10 fortune cookies, write 10 haikus, write a limerick or two, just for your own amusement. Spend an hour or so on this and then return to your wip and see what happens.

3. Take a shower, you have to do it anyway. I don’t know why this works, but the physical sensations of water, heat and solitude come together and good ideas are formed. I’ve had more success with this method than any other.

4. Start from the beginning of your wip and change every single word. Even if it’s junk, do it anyway. By the time you get to the end, you might have a fresh idea.

5. Clean your house. I’m serious. This does two things. First, it allows for physical activity, which helps your brain along. And secondly, decluttering and cleaning has a positive effect on your brain too. When your living space is clear, your mind will be too. And if you’re still stuck, come clean mine.

6. Do your laundry. For the same reasons as number five.

7. Read your work out loud. Alone, and then to someone else. I have a friend with whom I call every other Saturday night. I read my latest chapter to her. More often than not, I see glaring mistakes. Sometimes I gain insight into the work. Her questions and comments help me tweak it even further.

8. Change your font. I think Times New Roman is an industry standard, who says that in the privacy of your own hard drive you can’t write in something more interesting. Arial Narrow? Comic Sans? Or even, if you dare, change the color. I can’t explain why, but these subtle changes often breathe life into my project and gets me over the tough places.

9. People watch. Step away from your computer. Slowly. Instead go somewhere to see lots of people and take notes. Don’t even automatically assume that what you see is going in your wip, just watch. Make up stories about them in your head. There might come a time in this exercise that your brain is so full of ideas you might explode, then, rush back to your computer and get to work. You’ll be surprised at what happens.

10. Do something completely analytical, like a Sudoku. I am no brain expert. But I do know that the emotional and analytical parts of our brain work together. I imagine that if the verbal/emotional side is overloaded, it might need a rest. Call in the analytical side to play. Play checkers, chess, sudoku, Blokus anything that is more spatial, more logical and more analytical. After an hour or so, go back to your writing and see if you feel better.

11. Play with playdough, make bread or cook. This is for the same reason as number ten. Think of it as cross-training for your brain, but this is for the tactical/sensory side.

12. Change your music. I’ve learned that I can’t write at all to music that has lyrics. I have certain artists I listen to and I rarely veer off that track. If you are a listener while you write, consider what it is you’re listening to. Add variety, omit the lyrics, fiddle around with it. Turn it off altogether if you must.

13. 10 Minute Free Write. This is my favorite method of destroying the micro-block. I don’t worry about spelling, grammar or any usage, I just get everything down as fast as I can. Frequently a phrase or an idea pops up that I would have never found otherwise.

Micro-Block can be cured, if you have the tools! But I’d love to add to this list. Any more suggestions?

I will be the first to admit that I’m probably the wrong judge of what is creepy. I am a white, urban, college educated SAHM who is squeamish about mice in the house. So the very idea that I would set a high standard of cuddli-ness (which I’m thinkin’ is the most clarifying antonym out there) is pretty bold, if not silly. Nevertheless, in order to make my Social Media More Social, I ‘m willing to step up and put out a Creep-O-Meter for your benefit. This is kind of like a Cosmo quiz for people who have more important things to do than to read the first hundred pages of ads in a Cosmo magazine.

I do not have the technical stats in front of me. I’m not that kind of researcher. I’m the kind that shows my five children pictures of avatars and says, “Do we want to follow this person?” And if the crowd votes “YAY!” I do. If the crowd screams in terror and runs outside to get a gulp of G-rated fresh air, then frankly, that avatar creeps us out and we can’t follow. The nice thing about having five kids, is that there is that handy-dandy odd number for breaking any ties.

But if you want to step into that brain-sucking realm of self-examination, you can take this test. That way we don’t have to do it for you. Be honest. No one likes a cheatin’ creep.

Does your avatar have a face on it that isn’t human? +3
Does this face have fur? -2
Is this face have any comic element, like Groucho glasses or a party hat? -2
Does your avatar have any part of a human body that is unclothed? +3
Does this unclothed human body have his/her head mysteriously cropped out? +3
Is this unclothed human body in some sort of position that might suggest to me I should shield my children’s eyes? +2
Is the dominant color in this avatar black? +2
Is the dominant color white, pink or yellow? -2
Is there a flower in this avatar? -5
Is there an animal that is associated in any way with death, Ozzy Osborne or Edgar Allen Poe? +3
Is the face on this avatar wearing dark glasses? +1
Is the face on this avatar wearing dark glasses but smiling/ and or crinkling up his/her nose, as if posing for Tiger Beat magazine? -4
Does the face on this avatar have any visible freckles? -6
Is there any element that might suggest violence, such as a semi-automatic weapon, brass knuckles or a machete? +5
Is the face on the avatar frowning or have eyebrows that are so V-shaped that they look like a ferocious bird of prey? +3
Is the face on the avatar completely hairless? +5
Is the face on the avatar hairless except for the soul patch? +3
Is the face on the avatar bald, but smiling? -2
Is the person in the avatar seated? -1
Is the person in the avatar seated next to a cocker spaniel or golden retriever? -4
Is the person in the avatar seated next to a golden retriever who appears to have a certain kind of leash that might qualify them as an assistance animal? -10
Are there any pictures of babies in this avatar? -6
Are there any of pictures of babies with ducks, daisies, bonnets and parasols? -12
Does this avatar have any reference to American political parties, extreme activism and the word death written in pointy letters? +20

Scoring:
-10 to 0 You are my type of follower! Find me! I will so be your friend! We can exchange recipes for strawberry cupcakes!
0-10 You are slightly creepy. If you can convince me that you are smart, compassionate and do not make a habit of kicking puppies, we’ll probably get along fine.
11-20 You are way out there in the land of creepy. I would suggest either you embrace your inner creepiness (and stay away from my children) or maybe throw in a little Love’s Baby Soft on your avatar. You never know, your numbers might go up.

You can follow me at @10MinuteWriter But please, if you scored higher than a 50, um . . . . I’ll find you instead.

When I finally get my book done and my deals signed and my photo on the back of a book, I hope to be known as a funny writer. When I’m at my best, funny just comes out of me, like pus. It comes out because it is a part of my voice and my personality. My compositions, I hope, will be filled with the stuff. At least, I think it’s funny anyway. (I’m not yet published, nor represented, so this claim remains to be seen.)

Through The Simpsons, Seinfeld, Friends, Arrested Developmentand now, SOAP, I am learning context, exaggeration, the one-liner, the nuts and bolts of how funny can be gently incorporated into a narrative, how exaggeration can build up a character, how a plot can move forward while telling jokes and have ridiculous scenarios all at the same time. The good sitcoms have everything that a fiction writer needs: snappy dialogue, rich characters, clear objectives, clear story arcs, believability, it’s all there. And if you have Netflix, you can watch TONS of them all the time.

The first thing I love about sitcoms is the dialogue. Good dialogue has a rhythm. I don’t know how to describe it. It moves like someone breathes. There is a flow to it and a good writer understands that flow. A good writer can make the words from each speaker waltz with each other, speeding up with the insertion of high emotion. I LOVE listening to people talk, just so I can hear the ways words and sentences interact with each other. And sitcoms are great ways to listen to good dialogue.

The other thing I love is that even in the exaggeration; it speaks the truth. Which is what I think satire is in it’s purest form. We can laugh at the adventures, at the mishaps, at the misunderstandings. But the inner objectives, the inner human struggle of each of these characters is selfishness — sin. This is great equalizer; we’re all selfish creatures. The laughter hides the pain of sin for just a moment.

Dysfunction is FUN! Kind of. It’s the manifestation of our sinfulness. It’s the identifying factor of humankind. It’s the universal stamp on all of us that says “GRACE NEEDED”. When I watch shows like SOAP and I giggle along with the fact that Jody (a very young Billy Crystal) wants to get a sex change operation, and then attempts suicide, I laugh at first, but who can help but cry? His despair is a familiar one. In this same episode, an elderly Jewish gentleman explains to him so beautifully and poetically how life is worth living, even in the disappointing times, even in the heartache. I had tears in my eyes when I watched this scene, which is now over 30 years old. It speaks of a universal truth, one that everybody can identify with.

I believe that the Christian satirist’s responsibility is not just to show the pie in the face, but to explain, gently, how the pie can be cleaned up and how relationships can be restored. I think one can NOT be a true Christian comedy writer unless they fully understand the scope of the tragedy of mankind. Show me a very funny person, and I’ll show you someone whose pain is deeper than you can imagine.

Some people say that great writers should be great readers. I agree. I also think that great humorists should be great watchers of sitcoms. I’m just learning, so to learn more, I’m flipping on the television.

A satirist is a truth teller, and I hope someday I am a gentle, yet very funny, truth teller indeed.