Show Me the Way

 

                                                                                           Photo credit: Rafael Pires via Pexels

"Description begins in the writer's imagination, but should finish in the reader's." – Stephen King

"Show, don’t tell" is advice often given to aspiring writers. It certainly makes sense, as the writer wants to paint a picture in her readers' minds. But when you sit down to write, to tell your story, it's easy to fall into just that—telling.

What's an aspiring writer to do? Learn from the pros. I've mentioned Master Class in this space before, and am still of the opinion that it's worth every penny. I just finished David Baldacci's class on writing mysteries and thrillers, and am once again walking the line between being incredibly inspired and convinced I have no idea what I'm doing. At least I'm consistent.

I do take some solace in the fact that even my favorite author, Robert Crais, often faces a blank page with uncertainty. I recently reread an interview in which he said that every time he sits down to write a new book he thinks, "Can I pull this off?" And that's after numerous awards and more than twenty novels. Some days I wonder if I can pull off a blog post.

But back to showing. In his class, Baldacci walks would-be thriller writers through his outlining process—emphasizing that it's ever-evolving, creating compelling characters, crafting dialogue, writing action scenes, and much more. Good stuff. His readers definitely see his stories unfold. And while it's clear how hard he works at his craft, it's also clear how much he enjoys it, simply stating that "he can't not write."

So where does that leave me? Starting to play with an idea for a new story, coming up with new ways to summon my muse, and knowing I'm not alone when I think I can't possibly write another book. But I think I can. I'll show you.

In the Pocket

 

                                                              Image by Pixabay via Pexels   

I'm late to the party on this one, but I just found out about kangaroo words. According to dictionary.com, a kangaroo word is a "word that contains its own synonym, with the letters to spell that synonym already placed in the correct order." WHAT?? Maybe it's a side effect of it being month eleventy-five of the pandemic, but I think this is so cool!

The letters can be consecutive, like act within action, or spread out, like male in masculine. And to continue with the word play, those shorter synonyms inside of a kangaroo word are called joey words. Methinks Kanga and Roo would be pleased.

I'm a bit dismayed that I didn't learn about kangaroo words in grade school. Had I been made aware of this bit of language nerdiness around the time I discovered The Phantom Tollbooth, my eight-year-old head surely would have exploded (in a good way). Kangaroo words were popularized as a word game in the 1950s, in The American Magazine, and later appeared in Reader's Digest. Then, I suppose, they just faded away.

For you serious word geeks out there, a twin kangaroo contains two joey words, such as container, in which both tin and can appear. Want more? An anti-kangaroo (is it just me, or does that sound like a political party that would appear in a Monty Python sketch?) contains its own antonym, like overt in covert. And the finale? A grand kangaroo contains two joey words, one of which is in the "pouch" of the other, such as alone, which contains lone, which contains one. Mind. Blown.

Word play will always be fun for a certain segment of the population. I just hope that enough of us are passing that sense of play along to future generations. Wouldn't Kanga want us to?

W is for Where

 

Writing fiction is an interesting endeavor. The writer creates a world in which to tell her story, but it must have elements of truth—things that will be relatable to the reader. Walter Mosley said he writes fiction so he can "make stuff up." And yet, the Los Angeles of Easy Rawlins is vividly gritty and instantly recognizable. Done properly, the setting of a novel becomes a character. Sometimes, the principal character.   

So, how does a writer decide where to set a story, in cases where the setting isn't a given, like Raymond Chandler's LA? In the early stage of a story I recently finished, I considered going the Sue Grafton route and making up a town, like Santa Teresa, so it wouldn't matter what I put where. But as the story progressed, I realized I'd need to stop and map everything out or be at risk of continuity errors. Does my protagonist drive into or away from the morning sun on the way to work? How long does it take her to get to said job? How far away does her best friend live? Ultimately, I decided to set the story in Sacramento, and had Google maps open on a browser tab while I wrote.

Julie Smith, author of the Edgar Award-winning New Orleans Mourning, sees the fiction writer as a reporter when setting the scene, recording the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells, then taking readers on a tour. And, bearing in mind Elmore Leonard's rule about never opening a book with weather, the right detail, from nerve-jangling Santa Ana winds to the silence of snowfall, can place readers in the story like nothing else. Hello, Sacramento valley tule fog.

Sacramento may not have the romantic allure of San Francisco or the contrasting glitz and grit of Los Angeles, but there are plenty of features with which to anchor a story. Stately trees and homes in Land Park, the American River bike trail, little towns on the delta that seem stuck in time. If a writer takes care in setting the scene, readers will notice. And they'll hopefully want to come along for the ride.

Ten Things I Learned Last Year

 

Introvert that I am, my social habits didn't change all that much during the pandemic-driven quarantine last year. But forced solitude is a different matter, and I had to adjust to not seeing friends and family in person. I had to rely on phone calls (I've never been a big phone talker, even as a teenager), texts, and emails more than ever, and at times, just retreated from everything.

It would be easy to paint the entire year with a broad tar-filled brush, but there were a few unexpected bright spots, along with more time to just be with my own thoughts. So, in no particular order, here are ten things I learned last year:

1. My cats sleep at least 18 hours a day.

2. Never underestimate the power of a sky break.

3. My day job doesn't belong in my house, but I can make room for it without losing my muse. In fact, the two can complement each other.

4. I rediscovered the simple joy of writing a letter and anticipating a reply.

5. Forced solitude is different than chosen, but it's okay.

6. Social media is even more annoying during a pandemic.

7. Good lighting is your best friend on Zoom.

8. A 15-minute department phone call is good for at least 1500 steps.

9. "If not now, when?" is a very powerful question.

10. Never underestimate the power of going for a drive and listening to music.

This year didn't begin well, prompting some to wonder if it's the thirteenth month of 2020. When will things begin to look up? No one knows, but I do know that I want to respond to chaos differently this year. And I don't want to forget last year, because I want to continue to learn from it. I want to continue to practice bending without breaking, and I want to feel lighter. I can't change what's going on around me, and in the world at large, but I can change how I react.     

    

A New Year’s Restart

 

Jokes about rebooting aside, it does feel as though we need a great restart after the end of this exceedingly long, exhausting year. And while I don't expect to begin 2021 with any less snarkiness (sorry—not sorry), there are some things I'd like to leave behind, like worrying about that which is completely out of my control and the heavy weariness that came with fearing the unknown.

I'm not in the habit of making New Year's resolutions, but I do think about setting intentions, so I'll consider this a mental reset and focus on what was good about this year, and what I'd like to do more of in 2021.

Write more letters

What started with buying stamps to support the Post Office turned into sending postcards and writing actual letters, reconnecting with old friends, and rediscovering the simple joy of putting pen to paper.

Go for more walks

I was in the habit of walking with friends at work, but after my office closed and I started working at home, I remembered how nice it is just to walk around my neighborhood or take an evening stroll by the river.

Plan for a brighter future

It was far too easy to focus on what we couldn't do this year, and how much we missed out on. I once worked with a woman who used to say that hunger is the best sauce. Anticipation can indeed be delicious, so I'll focus on how great it will be to see my extended family (and meet my new great nieces!), visit with friends, and see live music. 

So the answer to the query, "have you tried turning it off and on again?" is not yet, but I'm about to.

Mastering Your Craft

 

                                                                  

                            Photo credit: Suzy Hazelwood via Pexels

So the coronavirus is surging, my county is under a stay-at-home order, it finally feels winter-ish, and it's even raining today...what better time to take advantage of my Master Class subscription? Full disclosure: I'm not affiliated in any way, nor being paid, this is just an honest plug. Master Class is well worth the price. From Arts & Entertainment to Wellness, there's something for just about everyone.

I'm currently in the middle of Aaron Sorkin's screenwriting class, which meshes nicely with watching The Newsroom (HBO, 2012-2014). I don't see myself writing a screenplay, but at the nuts-and-bolts level, writing is writing, and in my opinion, Sorkin is brilliant. An added bonus is that he uses scenes from The West Wing, A Few Good Men, and Steve Jobs to illustrate points.

I've completed Malcom Gladwell's writing class, Margaret Atwood's Creative Writing, David Mamet's Dramatic Writing, and Neil Gaiman's Art of Storytelling. Next up, Walter Mosley's Fiction and Storytelling. Each time I watch a class. I'm left equally inspired and wondering if I know what the hell I'm doing. And according to the pros, that's as it should be. Writing is work, and it's not supposed to be easy. Glad I've got that part down...

Besides the pure enjoyment of hearing those who are successful talk about how they approach their craft, it's gratifying to know that even the pros often face a blank screen and blinking cursor and think they've written every word they know and are out of ideas. But they keep going.

Will I ever "master" writing? Most likely not, but that's hardly the point. I won't stop trying.

For the Record

 

Like most voracious readers, I've devoured my share of books this year. I got antsy like everyone, as the lockdown continued, but I have to admit my social calendar didn't change all that much. Like any introvert, when staying home with a good book is the right thing to do, I'll call it a win.

I did notice my innate reflex was to reach for entertaining fiction almost exclusively, as I haven't had the attention span or energy for anything much heavier. So I was delighted to find not only a fourth, but a fifth volume in a series by British author, Andrew Cartmel, who pens novels featuring a self-described vinyl detective. Besides being well-written, the books check several boxes for me: they're fun and clever, set in England, and feature music and cat lovers.

I'm often of two minds when I'm reading fiction that really captivates. I want to drink it all in and enjoy, but I also want to study and analyze everything from the style to the characters. How do you do all of that so well?! I'm especially interested in how authors keep recurring characters fresh and interesting over the course of several books. One of the best, in my opinion, is Robert Crais, who has now written eighteen novels featuring his signature characters, Elvis Cole and Joe Pike.

Granted Mr. Cartmel had an advantage with me from the beginning, as his vinyl detective could theoretically be any number of guys I worked with at Tower. But beyond that, Cartmel has created a compelling, likeable character, and other than his hobby-turned-occupation of finding rare records, and a business card reading, "Vinyl Detective," we know very little about him. Music and cat lover, coffee snob...and that's about it. We don't know what he looks like, or even his name. But as readers discover the colorful characters who hang out with our detective, and the adventures that ensue, they'll also discover storytelling at its finest. Cartmel and his nameless detective are in the groove...