Networking Pays!

Congratulations, you have won…

Groan. One on those emails.

…the Grand Prize in the Grand Opening…

Hold on.

…on Authors of Main Street.

Don’t. Hit. Delete.

I had won $100 gift card PLUS a stack of books!

Could it be true?

I scurry around the web and check it out… All because I had posted a comment during April.

YES!!!

Huge thanks to Authors of Main Street from:

my TBR pile for the generous re-stocking,

my DH because I’ll stop whining that I’m out of books,

my  friends because I’ll stop begging for spare books

me, from my heart, for the best Mother’s Day Gift EVER!

© Joan Leacott 2012

Tips 4 WIPs ~ MS Word for Fiction Writers

What do fiction writers want?

To write an awesome story, release it to accolades from far and wide, and live happily ever after. While we write the next book.

What do we NOT want?

We don’t want to get aggravated and sidetracked by a complex word-processing tool that provides far more functionality than we need. I mean, what have embedded lists, table themes, and an index got to do with a writing a great story?

We fiction writers would rather use our energy to focus on the next plot point or character reveal than try to calculate how many blank lines are needed to put “Chapter One” a third of the way down the page. We want to type without thought to spelling and grammar–at least in the first draft. We want to read the comments from our critique partners and beta readers without agonizing over the font color to show insert vs delete.

We want our story to flow smoothly from our minds to our screens.

Last summer, my local chapter of the Romance Writers of America held a workshop on how to create workshops. I floated my idea for an MS Word online class customized for the demands of fiction writers. The response was an overwhelming “Gimme that now!”

You got it!

So, I analyzed and refined the massive MS Word functionality to create Tips 4 WIPs ~ MS Word Techniques Customized for Fiction Writers.

Tips 4 WIPs is suitable for ALL levels of expertise. Go from “What if I do something wrong?” to “I know that!”.  Or, add to your tool box and bump up your efficiency.

Check it out!

© Joan Leacott 2012

Writing Lesson in Music Class

As mentioned in my last post, I’m taking piano lessons. With five kids, my immigrant parents couldn’t afford them. Now that I have lots of time on my hands, I’m treating myself to something I’ve always wanted to do.

In the last while, I’ve attended quite a few musical performances. Some of astonishing virtuosity. Others…not so much.

One virtuoso we were privileged to hear is Thomas Pandolfi. Totally blew me away. Between pieces, Thomas chatted about his work with Chopin’s études.

An etude is a study, or exercise, composed to develop a particular  technical skill like moving one hand over the other. Thomas also mentioned studies by Hanon. In 1873, Charles Louis Hanon wrote a book of finger exercises for beginners like me.

Recently, my piano teacher assigned me some studies written by  Carl Czerny (1791 – 1857). Beethoven was Czerny’s teacher. Czerny in turn taught Franz Liszt who went on the write some real finger-twisting studies.

The music I’m using now has been studied by countless students before me and will likely be played by countless more after me. Though Thomas is a genius, he likely played them, too. The continuity is awe-inspiring and comforting.

Everybody starts in the same place.

So what’s all this got to do with writing?

Jane Austen, Bram Stoker, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle are familiar names to writers of romance, paranormal and mystery genres.

It doesn’t matter if a book is issued in vellum, parchment, paper, or bytes, all writers are part of the continuity of the story.

And whether that story is told in music or words, we all start in the same place–with a wish in our hearts to entertain.

© Joan Leacott 2012, x-posted at Voices from the Heart

Nerves of Steel?

Why did I say I’d do this?

The Steinway looms at the front of the room. I know it’s waiting to devour my fumbling fingers whole. Why did I think I needed performance experience?

“Thank you, Christopher, nicely done,” says Ann, the lovely teacher. “Joan, your turn.”

Ack! Why did I say I’d do this?

I clench my books in my hand. They’re really more of a security blanket. I know the pieces cold.

Don’t I? Ack!

Did I really honest-to-god say I’d do THREE pieces?

What HAD I thinking been with? Surely not my brain.

Okay, chill, babe. You can do this. You’ve practiced and practiced and practiced some more. You own those pieces. I set myself on the stool, put the music book on the rack and open it to the appropriate page. I address my completely sympathetic audience of seven other adult students and their guests.

“Tonight I’m going to play three pieces. The first is Bouree in A minor by Christoph Graupner.”

The first two bars (eight notes) go smoothly-ish. Oh no, that was supposed to be a B flat, not a B natural. Keep going. GACK!

I grin sheepishly at the audience. “Let’s pretend that never happened.” I get a good chuckle out of them and begin again. Oh, yes, this is SO amusing.

This time it’s worse, so much worse. My fingers are trembling so badly, they won’t do a thing I tell them. Their memory has vanished. A few bits come out the way they’re supposed to–just a few. It’s the longest minute-and-a-half of my entire life.

I want to flee the room in ignominy. But I have two more pieces to go.

“My second piece is Minuet in C major by Johann Wilhelm Hassler.” Try saying that with the correct German accent when you can barely speak.

Okay, babe, pull yourself together. Take a deep breath and release to a count of 5-4-3-2-1. Go.

Slow and steady to start. Hit the G. Yes, that’s good. Pick up speed. F sharp. Oh yeah, baby. Slow it down again. Now the fun bit. Watch those tricky chords. YES! PERFECT! I OWNED THAT! The fastest minute of my life.

One more piece to go.

“My last piece is Celebration by Anne Crosby. I’d like to dedicate this piece to our teacher Ann because she helps us all to celebrate the music within.”

Take a deep breath and release to a count of 5-4-3-2-1. Go.

Easy peasy beginning. Danger, danger, finger twisting section ahead. Ack! Repeat the easy bit.  Ack! More chords, hand-over-hand this time. Do the last two bits over again. Easy repeat. Final staccato chord. YES! OH YES!

I give the audience a big honking grin. They clap and grin back.

I came, I played, I conquered myself.

“Thank you, Joan. Nicely done recovery. And now we have…”

The next victim of the Steinway–er, performer–rises from her seat.

© Joan Leacott 2012

Silence in Writing

I adored The Artist. Jean Dujardin, as Valentin, deserves his Best Actor Oscar.

In one scene, the irrepressible Peppy disparages the broad gesticulations and exaggerated facial expressions of the old silent films as “mugging for the camera”. This film has none of that.

If you haven’t seen the movie yet, go see it now.

Yes, yes… but how does this relate to writing?

A lot of a modern novel’s emotional action is conveyed in dialog. What happens when you remove it?

You’re left with silence…

that needs filling with effective body language.

There’s a scene where Valentin is sunk deep in despair. His anguish is clearly understood through his slumped posture, his disheveled appearance, the look on his face, his lethargic movements.

Not a word is necessary.

One of my favorite comments when I critique or judge is get out of the character’s head and into her body.  Show a character’s emotion  by what’s going on in her body, not via her words.

Instead of “I want to shout at you so much!” , or she was furious at her ill mother but she couldn’t say a thing, use emotive body language, Cathy pressed a fist against lips tucked between her teeth.  Can you see Cathy desperately trying to keep her words contained?

Another example? Instead of “I’m scared to ask.”  or Hayley was so jumpy about asking her mom about her dad, how about Hayley’s bent leg bounced like a maniac rubber ball. She stabbed her thigh with the brush handle to stop the darn jiggling. The brush and her leg bounced together. Can you see the incredible tension?

The next time you’re trying to show a character’s response, imagine him in a silent movie. How would you direct him to show his emotion?

Tip: For an awesome course on body language, I highly recommend Mary Buckham’s Body Language and Emotion at http://marybuckham.com/Onlineclasses.html

© Joan Leacott 2012

Roller Coaster Writer

Get an idea for your next book from an everyday event that you really look at for the first time.

Read a craft book. Figure out why your last scene sucked.

Write 2k words on your Work-in-Progress in one day.

Plan out the next scene to write tomorrow.

Send out  five queries. Get one form rejection within the hour.

Read a blog and write a great comment. Get an appreciative response from the blogger.

Write another 2k words.

Go to a chapter meeting. Afterwards, go for drinks and chat with other writers.

Get a critique from your most trusted partner saying she hates your heroine.

Judge a dismal contest entry, then spend hours trying to be nice.

Get another form rejection.

Write 12k words in three days. Battle with a family member over time spent at the computer.

Get a request for partial. Reply promptly.  Wait, wait, wait, and wait some more. And give up.

Celebrate a friend’s sale. Hope her good luck will rub off.

Get a request for a full. Reply promptly. Get a form rejection within three days.

Write a blog and get more comments than ever before.

Get a phone call from your favorite agent. Cross fingers, toes, and bra straps for this dream to come true.

Who needs a roller coaster when you’re a writer?

© Joan Leacott 2012, x-posted at Voices from the Heart

Somebody to Love

Deep in the bowels of a century-old stone building is a room few outsiders dare to enter.  Scales, spikes, fuzzy skins, and blue tongues adorn strange beasts living in the oddly-scented heat. Keepers take regular delivery of living creatures to be tossed into the beasts’ quarters for them to feed on.

Men and women draw back from contact with the creatures. Children, especially boys, challenge each other to reach out a trembling hand and touch them. Gasp! Run!

Where is this dreaded place?

It’s the Live Room in the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto Canada.

Who are the brave keepers?

One of them is Amy Lathrop, a technician in the Herpetology department. She introduced myself and a few friends to the residents of the Live Room.

Amy loves reptiles.

You can see it in how gently she handles them, in how much she knows about them. She’s been on expedition to Vietnam to study and co-author research papers on them.

And she’s very nice! Not weird at all! Honest.

See that snake headed her way? He really, really likes her. It can sense when she’s in the room. Huh!

Did you know that pythons and constrictors have vestigial hips and legs at the base of their long, long, long spines? You can see a tiny claw on either side of their last rib.

How’s that for an idea for your next paranormal story?

This dragon-guy’s spines are pliable when he’s not puffed up in self-defense. How could you not love that?

This soft little cutie drops off her tail to wiggle around as a decoy while she makes her escape to a safe zone.

And here’s that way wicked blue tongue. Look close. It really is blue. Trust me. I was there.

Oh, the live food? That would be the crickets kept on hand to feed some of the reptiles.

So, on this Valentine’s Day, where do you find somebody to love? Somebody that’s a little on the… shall we say non-standard… side?

© Joan Leacott 2012, photos by Andy McCraw

Plotting with Ripples and Waves

A recent post from Alicia Rasley at Edittorrent got me thinking about a theory I devised to explain  the impact of change in my life.

I call it The Ripple Effect.

The Little Version

Visualize a pebble dropped in still water. Plip. Ripples radiate out from the strike zone. Eventually the ripples dissipate and the water smooths out.

Small change, small impact.

The Big Version

Visualize a big granite boulder dropped in still water. SPLOOSH! A coronet rises around the strike zone. Big waves roll over the water’s surface. A long time goes by before the water settles.

Big change, big impact.

The Messy Version

Visualize both the pebble and the boulder dropped into the water at the same time. Plip. SPLOOSH! Ripples and waves spread in all directions. Crests and troughs are amplified and diminished.

That’s real life. Sigh.

The Story Version

How useful is my Ripple Effect theory?

For me, the natural extension of observing and thinking is writing. So I use my theory to plot stories. Here’s how.

The initial conflict in a book is the first pebble thrown in the still waters of a character’s ordinary life. It’s not necessarily a huge conflict, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Before the story waters have stilled, toss in a stone. What is the interplay of this slightly larger conflict with the first conflict? How does it cross and alter the first conflict?

Before the story waters have stilled, toss in more pebbles and larger stones.

Watch for unexpected collisions in the intersection of waves and ripples, dips and troughs. Watch how the crest of a wave is increased by a ripple. Watch how the dip of a ripple diminishes the crest of wave.

Surprise your characters and your reader, and maybe yourself, with unusual results of  the intersecting conflicts–the Ripple Effect.

Let the story waters still. Just a bit. Let your reader catch her breath.

In goes the boulder.

SPLOOSH!!!

Chaos. Conflict. Bwahahaha!

Then comes a rainstorm. Hundreds of thousands of drops fall. All the waves and ripples are beaten down. Conflicts are resolved. Order and peace return. The story waters return to a smooth glassy surface.

So what do you think? Does The Ripple Effect appeal to you?

© Joan Leacott 2012, x-posted at Voices from the Heart

Goals-Biters or Boosters

While paging through the family album recently, I came across a photo of myself circa 1985 and wondered. What did I dream of, what were my goals?

All during my working life, my goals were set by my boss—complete this report now. My personal life was pretty much take what comes.

I left the workforce some time ago—the best bad thing that ever happened to me—and became an aspiring author a romance writer, student of the piano, and occasional artist.

I set goals for my writing after I drafted my first novel, but life bit hard with two family deaths in two consecutive summers. My muse went dormant during those years.

The next summer, I set a goal to write 1,000 words a day—and gave myself a dose of carpal tunnel syndrome. Boy, did that bite! Thanks to speech recognition software, I completed the book and healed my wrists.

In more recent goals, I’ve deliberately included free time when my fingers are not on any keys, laptop or piano. I’ve scheduled two days off per week for fun stuff with my dear husband and my good friends, and a full month after I’ve drafted my third novel.

Why? If I know an off-day is near, I’ll be more focused during my on-days. Hopefully, this will save my sanity and my wrists.

I’ve also re-allotted time for a special project that didn’t quite get off the ground last year. I’ll re-purpose my sewing-room into an office, starting with a thorough clear-out and ending with re-decorating. I view the process as a re-commitment to my writing. Stay tuned for before and after photos.

Instead of goals that wear me down and bite my butt, I’ve created goals to boost my creativity and still let me enjoy my beautiful life.

Do your goals bite you or boost you?

© Joan Leacott 2012

The H in my DH

In preparation for the Christmas rush of visitors to our humble home, I spent hours and hours in the kitchen; devising menus, finding recipes, doing advance prep when possible. More hours were spent cleaning said humble home. And still more in decking the halls inside and out.

You get the hair-frazzling frenzy.

Through it all, I had unflagging assistance with the scheming, cleaning, and decorating from my dear husband (DH).

That’s right, He of the Lost Recipe, knows how to help in more ways than creative filing.

Well, he’s not that handy around the stove. But everywhere else, he was elbow-deep in holiday preparations. The man can wield a vacuum cleaner with the best of them. Not to mention a snow shovel. Or, bliss, a body massager.

So now all the guests have come and gone; fed, watered, and gifted. I sit at the table with my book and my mid-morning coffee before me.  Blessed peace reigns over the sunny day.

The DH thanks me for all the hard work I’ve done to make another wonderful holiday. Just as he leans over to follow his lovely words with a kiss, the birds in the yard break into mad song.

“Listen to that,” says the DH, his brown eyes twinkling. “The birds want to kiss you, too.”

Sometimes, the H in DH stands for more than husband.

© Joan Leacott 2011, x-posted at Voices from the Heart