Writers in the Storm

by Kathryn Craft

Turning Whine Into Gold

Each of our fictional characters carries a spark from our own souls, it is said, and this is certainly true of me. My character Angela Reed, from The Art of Falling, is fond of celebrating. Any old thing, really, as am I (although it would be of great benefit to my waistline if I could think of ways to celebrate other than beer and pizza—but I digress). What endears Angela to readers is that she celebrates despite living with cystic fibrosis, a condition that severely limits life expectancy. Given these circumstances, how can she exhibit such an abundance of spirit?

Yet family members of those who have lived with cystic fibrosis often tell me that their loved one was just like Angela. This brings to mind similar stories from those who have traveled to third world countries, where death doesn’t even bother to hide, but is present in plain sight. A joyful spirit can prevail despite extreme challenge.

Anxiety and ennui, it would seem, are first world problems. Divorced from the need to seek a clean drink of water or enough food to fend off starvation, our minds worry over past events and project our fears onto what might come rather than rest in the fact that, right at this moment, we have much to celebrate.

This seems especially true of writers. After all, we spend most of our time in our heads, drumming up conflict. We bring fading memories of past dramas back to life in full living color to fuel our stories, and then worry whether the result of this effort will be good enough to justify the chance to do it all again.

Our poor brains. Our poor, bruised souls.

Yet we need not be poor in spirit. Here are seven techniques for restoring spirit through celebration.

1. Celebrate your mission. The writing life is hard. What on earth made you sign up for this challenging activity? Write it down and post it in your writing space, where it will motivate you when times get tough. Your mission will remind you of the joy and meaning that your writing can bring.

2. Celebrate your perspective. By the time someone is drawn to the writing life, she or he has typically lived through trying circumstances—abuse (physical, emotional, substance), dysfunction, bullying, mental illness—that made them feel like an outsider. That’s good. An outsider looking to fit in is a keen observer of the human condition, and therefore owns a great perspective from which to write a novel. Forgive the abuse, accept it as part of your life’s journey, and celebrate the perspective gained.

3. Celebrate your faith. In a 2003 keynote address at a writers’ conference, author Katherine Ramsland said something I’ve never forgotten: “It doesn’t matter what you believe, it matters that you believe.” In the publishing industry, where external rewards are so uncertain, we must remain grounded in the personal rewards we reap for our efforts. Delight in word count, the sudden insight, that perfect metaphor, the mute character who unveils her voice. Worry that you aren’t good enough or worthy enough is neither helpful nor honorable; put in the effort to earn your stripes and celebrate the faith that will see you through.

4. Celebrate your positive feedback. Do you keep a feel-good file? I do. It is filled with thank-you notes for especially appreciated pieces I wrote while I was a dance critic, praise from mentors and contest judges, and heartfelt missives from readers about what my stories have meant to them. I can’t recall the last time I looked through it, but just knowing it’s there is a comfort. My 4- and 5-star reviews remind me to celebrate that I have readers who truly connected with my work.

5. Celebrate your accomplishments. As word count comes and word count goes, we can easily convince ourselves that we are going nowhere. Update a personal version of your resume every year to prove this isn’t true. Maybe in-depth workshops inspired significant revisions on your first novel, or you had articles or short stories published, or you received a royalty check. Such forward movement proves you have not been spinning your wheels. Review your efforts and pat yourself on the back—then pass along what you’ve learned to the writers coming behind you.

6. Celebrate your health. So many of us take our health to be the unacknowledged foundation of our lives—until it isn’t. Every now and then, pull yourself out of your head and check in with the rest of your body. Are your eyes dry? Does your back hurt? Is your stomach churning from too much caffeine? Does your head ache from last night’s wine? While you can, celebrate the health you have with an after-lunch walk, late-afternoon yoga, or start tomorrow with a trip to the gym. If your health is precarious to the point that such activities aren’t possible, simply focusing on breathing in and breathing out can ground you in gratitude for the present moment: right now, you are alive and safe and all is well.

7. Celebrate first world status. When your mind races and a balanced outlook escapes you, get up from your desk and go outside and do something with your hands. Mow the grass, weed a flower bed, plant some vegetables—anything that can remind you of the toil and hardy spirit that allowed our ancestors to survive by day and then drop, bone-weary, into bed each night. Your writing life is a privilege of the technological age. Despite the fact that most authors earn income below the poverty line, we are literate and cultured and we know that books matter. Celebrate your contribution to the literature that makes the world a better place.

But I don’t have time to celebrate! I have promotional blog posts to write and contests to set up and plot holes to fill and a new novel to conceive! My problems are urgent and need to be solved!

True—but have you ever noticed that you solve problems much more effectively when you’re in a good frame of mind? Divorcing your sense of well being from external events, imagined or real, will help you celebrate all that is right in your life. Learning to elevate your mood will reduce strain on your interpersonal and business relationships and help you enjoy the writing life—no matter what problems come your way.

Let’s make today’s comment section into one big celebration!

How have you moved forward in your writing over the past year, and how did you/do you plan to celebrate?

Let’s do this!

About Kathryn

Kathryn Craft is the award-winning author of two novels from Sourcebooks: The Art of Falling, and The Far End of Happy.

Her work as a developmental editor at Writing-Partner.com, specializing in storytelling structure and writing craft, follows a nineteen-year career as a dance critic. Long a leader in the southeastern Pennsylvania writing scene, she hosts lakeside writing retreats for women in northern New York State, leads workshops, and speaks often about writing.

Kathryn lives with her husband in Bucks County, PA.

Twitter: @kcraftwriter
FB: KathrynCraftAuthor

Margie Lawson

Most writers know Show Don’t Tell, but sometimes they think they’re showing when they are telling.

Here’s my oh-so-easy check.

Read the sentence that you think SHOWS the reader something.

Ask yourself ---- What’s the Visual?

You may be surprised that the sentence doesn’t provide a visual.

Wondering why I care?

Wondering why I think you should care?

Most readers have a video playing in their mind of the scene they are reading.

If a writer TELLS instead of SHOWS, the reader’s screen goes blank. No imagery. No power.

When the writer TELLS, they’re sharing what the POV character is thinking. They’re intellectualizing for the POV character.

The writer is not putting the emotional power on the page.

TELLING:

He looked angry.

She seemed agreeable to the plan.

He made a face.

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell she was pleased.

He knew she was nervous.

She looked like she wanted to go with him.

 Jake seemed out of sorts.

If you’ve read one of my blogs before, or taken one of my online courses, or consumed one of my lecture packets, you know I always provide examples that support my teaching points.

Here comes the fun!

Example 1:

“Someone got hurt.”

She studied Susan’s face. “Are you okay?”

Whoops. What’s the visual?

We’re missing the subtext. We need to know Susan’s facial expression.

Example 2:

The POV character is watching Sam.

Sam moved around in an agitated manner.

What’s the visual?

Both parts of that short sentence are TELLING.

How did Sam move?

How does the POV character know Sam is agitated?

What’s his facial expression?

Example 3:

 Mike is the POV character.

Traci seemed upset. “I need to leave.”

Mike touched Traci’s arm. “Don’t leave. We need to talk.”

What’s the Visual?  Mike touched Traci’s arm, but the reader doesn’t know how Mike can tell Traci is upset.

The writer could SHOW, and share subtext, with Traci’s actions or face or voice.

Writers don’t need to add SHOWING to every sentence or paragraph. But many sentences need those visuals. They share the emotion, hook the reader.

Now we’ll dig deeper into some complex examples. 

The Ones We Trust, Kimberly Belle, 4-time Immersion-Grad

First Example from Kimberly Belle

Kimberly Belle could have written:

Dad nodded, but I knew he was still upset.

But this is what she wrote:

Dad nods at me over the top of his menu, but his forehead doesn’t clear. His eyes don’t unsquint. The general is a man who misses nothing, including, according to his scowl, the reason behind my non-reply.

Deep Editing Analysis:

            Slipped in a hint of setting: 

• over the top of the menu

            Showing What’s Not Happening: 

• his forehead doesn’t clear
• his eyes don’t unsquint

Power Internalizations:

• the general is a man who misses nothing
• the reason behind my non-reply

Compelling Cadence

Everything shares subtext and deepens characterization.

Second Example from Kimberly Belle

Kimberly Belle could have written:

Dad let go of his anger.

But this is what she wrote:

Dad leans in, and everything about him softens. His posture, his expression, his ten-hut tone.

Deep Editing Analysis: 

            Shows Dad softening: his posture, his face, his voice

            Second sentence is a frag. Works well.

            Rhetorical Device: Anaphora – Triple Beginnings

• His posture, his expression, his ten-hut tone

Rhetorical Device:  Asyndeton – No and after last comma

• His posture, his expression, his ten-hut tone

Character-Themed – Her Dad was a General

• his ten-hut tone

Compelling Cadence 

Third Example from Kimberly Belle

Kimberly Belle could have written:

“Things you don’t want to understand.”

But this is what she wrote:

His expression is like a sluice, locked down tighter than the White House during a terrorist threat. “Things you don’t want to understand.”

Deep Editing Analysis:

            She gave the reader a facial expression, amplified.

            Rhetorical Device:  Simile

•  like a sluice

Character-Themed --  Her Dad was a General.

• locked down tighter than the White House during a terrorist threat.

            Power Words:  Words that carry psychological power.

• sluice, locked down, tighter, terrorist, threat

The Curse of Tenth Grave, Darynda Jones, NYT Bestseller, 2-time Immersion-Grad

 Empowered Example from Darynda Jones

Darynda Jones could have just written one sentence:

He gave me his full attention.

But this is what she wrote:

He finally gave me his full attention. He put down the pen he’d been holding and sat back in his chair. The movement was so small, so every day, and yet it sent a tiny rush of excitement spiraling over my skin.

He’d rolled up his sleeves, exposing his corded forearms. His strong hands. His long, capable fingers.

He noticed me noticing for sure that time, but instead of reaching out to me, instead of inviting me into his personal space, he waited. He simply waited. For me to speak? For me to act? I had no idea which, so I went with the former.

“Yeah, so, for this plan to work, we are going to need a dozen syringes, a case of nitrous oxide, a serial killer, and a tank.”

I included more paragraphs than needed, but I wanted to share Darynda’s awesome line of dialogue.  :-)

Deep Editing Analysis:

            Showing, Amplified, many times.

            First Paragraph:

Telling:

• Gave full attention

            Showing:

• Put down pen
• Sat back in chair

Telling – Carried psychological power

• small movement
• so everyday

Stimulus/Response:

• Stimulus – all the Telling and Showing above
• Response – Visceral -- a tiny rush of excitement spiraling over my skin

Second Paragraph:

• Action -- rolling up sleeves
• Clear Visual – forearms, hands, fingers

Third Paragraph:

• Showing What’s Not Happening
• Power Internalizations

Fourth Paragraph – Power-packed dialogue – lots of power words, backloaded with tank.

Days Made of  Glass, Laura Drake, RITA Winner, 2-time Immersion-Grad, Cruising Writers Grad 

SHOWING example from Laura Drake.

This Expanded Time scene is one of my all time favorites, by any author.

Harlie, a closet thrill-seeker, runs into an arena to save a Pomeranian from a stampeding bull.

The sweet rush of adrenaline hit her like a heroin-mainlining junkie. It sang through her veins, lifting her, making her impervious—superhuman. She sped up, heart thundering in her ears—or maybe that was bull’s hooves.

Everything seemed to slow. Details stood out in perfect focus: the shine of spit on the dog’s bared teeth, the whorl of hair at the center of the bull’s forehead, a small scar next to its white-filled eye.

In full stride, Harlie reached the center of the arena, snatched the now cowering fur ball by the nape and kept moving. The ground shook with pounding hooves. She tensed her muscles for impact, but felt only a sliding rub of horn on her butt and the rush of air at her back as the bull passed. Clutching the suicidal mutt in a death grip, Harlie sprinted for the fence.

She’d taken only a couple of steps when the panicked yells of the onlookers penetrated the swelling adrenaline chorus in her head. Harlie didn’t have to look. She knew bulls. The animal had wheeled, and from the vibrations in the soles of her fancy cowgirl boots, was bearing down to gore her.

No time. She heaved the dog toward the red-faced men on the opposite side of the fence.  Her brain registered a stop-action photo of the little dog flying through the air, hair blown back, mouth open.

She hadn’t known dogs had an expression for terrified but this one sure did. It hit the ground running and streaked for the line of boots at the fence.

Harlie spun on her heel. The bull was farther away than she’d guessed, but closing fast. She shot a glance to the fence. It seemed as if she were seeing it through the wrong end of a telescope. A bull will beat a human in a race, every time. She’d never make it.

No choice.

Tension zinged through her. The timing had to be just right. Failure would come in the form of lunging horns and bone-snapping hooves. Head down, the bull came on.

Decision made, the fear in Harlie’s chest lay down before a rising exaltation of knowing. Crouched in a marathon runner’s stance, she shook the jitters out of her hands and gauged the bull’s closing speed.

One more step –

Harlie exploded, launching herself straight at the bull.

She took two long-jumper strides.

The bull charged in, lowering its head to hook her.

On the third stride, perfectly timed, her foot came down in the center of the bull’s broad forehead. He threw his head up and she was launched, flying over the beast’s back.

It seemed she rose forever, her stomach dropping, shooting the sparkly fireworks of a roller coaster’s first hill. A quiet, high-pitched sound escaped her lips. It might have been a giggle.

When the arc finally began its downward tail, Harlie looked for a place to land.

Awesome example of showing visuals, and how to write a powerful expanded time scene. 

Thank you for dropping by WITS blog today.

Please chime in and share your thoughts on What’s the Visual?

Or just click in and say Hi. Let me know you’re here.

Post a comment, and you have TWO CHANCES to WIN!

1. Lecture Packet from Margie Lawson

2. An online course from Lawson Writer’s Academy – worth up to $75!  

My WITS blog for April had over 200 posts!

I doubled the drawings and we had four winners.

If the avalanche of comments on this blog WOW me, I’ll double the winners again.

The drawings will be Sunday, 9:00 p.m. Mountain Time.

Check out the courses offered by Lawson Writer's Academy. 

1. Revision Boot Camp – May 16 – June 15, registration is still open!

http://bit.ly/RevisionBootCamp

2. Create Compelling Characters  – Starts June 1

 http://bit.ly/JuneCCC

3. Writing Compelling Scenes  --  Starts June 1

 http://bit.ly/JuneCompellingScenes

4. How to Write Dialogue with a Psychological Punch  -- Starts June 1  http://bit.ly/PowerDialogue

5. Pinterest for Authors -- Starts June 1

 http://bit.ly/JunePinterest

6. Virtues, Vices, and Plots  -- Starts June 1

 http://bit.ly/JuneVVP

Margie Lawson—editor, international presenter—teaches writers how to use her psychologically-based editing systems and deep editing techniques to create page turners. Margie has presented over ninety full day master classes for writers in the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and on cruises in the Caribbean.

To learn about Lawson Writer’s Academy, Margie’s 4-day Immersion Master Classes (in Denver, Washington, D.C., Phoenix, Canyon Lake, Dallas, San Jose, Albuquerque, Australia, and more), her full day Master Class presentations, on-line courses, lecture packets, and newsletter, please visit www.margielawson.com.

I love WITS! A big THANK YOU to the uber-fun and uber-talented WITS bloggers!

 

 Mari Ann Stefanelli

Blazing fear woke me. Suffocating, I sucked and clawed at the air. A cardiac intensive care nurse held my hand, murmuring it’s ok, it’s ok, you’re on a ventilator, remember?

My doctors told me I should never have gotten endocarditis, a potentially fatal bacterial infection that attacks the heart. Endocarditis is uncommon in people with healthy hearts, I read on mayoclinic.org.

I had a healthy heart. Until––

• In 1999, two months after my daughter was born, my mother was diagnosed with gall bladder cancer––a death sentence.
• Days later, postpartum depression set in.
• We moved closer to my mother.
• I quit working and quit writing.
• I got pregnant with my second child, a son.
• In December 2001, my mother died.
• Four months later, during my son’s birth, his head came out but his shoulders were stuck. Two nurses jumped on top of me and jackhammered my abdomen to force him out. I was certain we would die. My husband grabbed my hand, saying it will be okay.
• Seven days after his birth, my son was hospitalized and placed on IV antibiotics. His penis was infected from a circumcision I didn’t want him to have.
• In the hospital, I held my son for the next seven days and prayed, while a maddening rash blistered my body. The most powerful antibiotic in existence conquered his infection, and we returned home.

As a writer, I considered sharing all the pain, loss, and fear I’d experienced in less than three years. Start a blog. Grieve. But I remembered my mom telling me, “When I was diagnosed with cancer, I never asked ‘why me?’ I thought, ‘why not me?’” If she had found grace and dignity to face death, couldn’t I pull myself together to face life?

I became a human trash compactor, piling my emotional offal into a heart-shaped chamber, pushing, stomping, and crushing it into semi-submission for almost a decade. And like a handy can of Lysol, a smile and laugh were my camouflage. Odd illnesses vexed me and perplexed my doctors, and I knew buried emotions were poisoning me. Still, the fear of reliving––perhaps really living––that pain was unthinkable. But the urge to write lingered.

While I vacuumed, swept the floor, or showered, entire passages skittered through my brain, and I wanted to write about how postpartum depression had torn me from my baby girl, how my mother’s death came when I most needed her, how close I’d come to losing my infant son––and perhaps myself. Instead, I wrote a restaurant review.

In 2009, I realized I didn’t want to feel, but I did want to write. I joined the venerable Atlanta Writers Club. I was shocked when my halfhearted efforts rewarded me. The first workshop I attended was the acclaimed author Jessica Handler’s “Writing through Grief,” where I sobbed as I wrote the first words of my memoir. At another workshop, I talked with Jedwin Smith, an author and former journalist twice nominated for a Pulitzer. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a friend like Jedwin? Later, a top-notch literary agent requested a book proposal. The writing life beckoned, but I wavered.

In September 2010, I came down with a 103.5° fever, debilitating chills, and a constant river of sweat. I saw two doctors in two weeks; both misdiagnosed me. When my heart began to hurt, I saw my cardiologist.

Within an hour, I was diagnosed with endocarditis; ultrasound pics showed bacteria attached to my heart’s mitral valve. Two weeks’ unfettered access to an all-they-could-eat-heart-buffet made them huge, like kelp. Six weeks of powerful IV antibiotics killed the kelp, although big holes remained.

Two months later, I had open-heart surgery to repair the damage. My heart was stopped and sliced open; a heart-lung machine breathed for me and oxygenated my blood. I woke up on a ventilator. It was as frightening as it sounds, but in three days I was home­­––and my heart was healed.

In 2011, Jedwin Smith offered a writers’ workshop three miles from my home. I registered and made up my mind: I was a writer, and I was going to revel in all life’s pain and glory. Classmates soon became friends. One nominated me for a fellowship to attend a retreat taught by the renowned author and writing coach Rosemary Daniell. Others asked me to review their work. Jedwin showed me I had an aptitude for editing and helped me turn that into a career.

Buoyed with love and encouragement, I wanted to share this joy with other struggling writers. I asked the general manager of my favorite vacation spot, “Wouldn’t it be great to have a writers’ retreat here?”

“Yes!” he said. “And the owner knows Winston Groom––the Forrest Gump author. We’ll invite him.”

Wow.

In 2015, I launched The Writer’s High Retreat™, with Winston Groom as the guest of honor. Jedwin and Rosemary agreed to speak. Rosemary invited her dear friends Pat Conroy and Cassandra King. Pat had another commitment, but Cassandra, another of my literary heroes, said yes. I emailed Kimberly Brock, telling her how much I had admired her debut novel, The River Witch. Would she consider presenting at my debut retreat? Yes.

At the retreat, Kimberly’s presentation startled me. “To tell the stories of our hearts, we must face what we fear most. Those are the only stories worth telling.”

That’s it!

To tell the stories of our hearts, we writers must face our fear. Fear will steal your breath and suffocate you until you remember––it’s only an impediment: a ventilator for me, something else for you. Sometimes, all we need is one person who will hold our hand at a panicked moment and remind us, it will be okay. OKAY doesn’t mean we can change the past or bring back loved ones or get rid of disease––it means while we have breath, there is hope. Kimberly told us hope is the gift of all stories.

If your story is locked in your heart, there is a writing community waiting to embrace you. It may be online, it may be bricks and mortar, or it may be something you create yourself. It can change your life. It can open your heart.

No surgery required.

Your turn, WITS readers - what odd gifts has life given you that have helped you write?

 *  *  *  *

Mari Ann Stefanelli

 Mari Ann Stefanelli has loved writing since she could grasp a pencil. Originally from Gainesville, Florida, she graduated from the University of Florida with a bachelor’s degree in public relations and had a fabulous career in that field. In 2015, a series of epiphanies spurred her to launch her writing and editing business, The Writer’s High™, LLC. She also launched The Writer’s High Retreat ™, which debuted in April 2015, to share with others the joy she’s found in writing. Mari Ann lives with her husband and children and high-maintenance rescued mutt in the Southeast where, with the sun as her muse, she’s writing a memoir about lies, love, and open-heart surgery. Mari Ann can be reached at mariann.stefanelli@gmail.com, http://www.twitter.com/thewritershigh

http://thewritershigh.com, and http://www.facebook.com/thewritershigh.