So It Is With Writing…

Aw spring, my favorite time of the year is finally here. Budding new birth is everywhere you look; people are taking inventory, spring cleaning, clearing out cobwebs, and the clutter of their lives.

As a girl, we started every Spring by opening the windows and letting fresh air blow through the house removing the winter’s stale air. Then, we moved down mama’s list, decluttering closets, washing windows until they sparkled. We whitewashed scuff marks off baseboards, mopped, waxed, and polished the hardwood floors until they shined.

It was an exhausting time for my sisters and me, one we always dreaded, until lying on our beds late at night we inhaled the smell of a freshly spring-cleaned house as the breeze stirred the sheer curtains and the sounds of crickets serenaded us to sleep. Some things are worth the hard work.

So it is with writing …

You outline a novel and fill in the plot or as some do, fly by the seat of your pants until you reach the end of the story and a satisfactory word count. Of course, I’m over simplifying, but you get my drift. When things need to be done, you do them and cross them off your list. Not unlike when I was young and checking off mama’s spring cleaning to-do-list.

Perhaps you’ve wondered why no one was minding the Cow Pasture. Suffice to say; I was hard at work. Not writing, but working on something much harder so I could get back to writing – my health. In 1983, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, Sjogren’s syndrome and others, but over the last five years, things had stabilized.

I thought I had this plot figured out, so to speak, but then what’s a good story without a twist, right? After many years of being manageable, the sleeping giant began attacking my central nervous system. Talk about a twist I wasn’t expecting, this was it. I didn’t know how to talk or write about what was happening, even in the Cow Pasture.

Over the last six months instead of working on my novel, blog or writing short stories, I’ve been outlining a plan to combat this disease and improve my outcome. I’m happy to say things are on track.

Some things are worth the hard work. 

I’m writing again, not using many outlines or sticking to a strict schedule, but writing when I can. Musing from the Cow Pasture Chronicles may include exerts from my novels, Hello HellCall Me Florence, a short story, flash fiction, writing topic, an opinion piece, or a chapter from my memoir. Who knows what I’ll share, I’m pretty much a panster these days.

Some things are meant to be enjoyed.

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Learn How Writers Do It

A treasured pastime, I’ve been reading since early childhood. My mother belonged to the Book of the Month Club, and each month I couldn’t wait to see what selections she’d ordered.

By the time I was a teenager, my sisters and I were devouring books like candy. Instead of plopping in front of the television after school I raced to my room, grabbed my book, and planted myself belly first on the bed. Anxious to find what happened next, I turned to the page I’d dog-eared that morning before hopping on the school bus. I stayed lost among the characters of another world until mom forced me back to reality for dinner or some other household task.

Growing up in a house full of books, the love of words came early and easy. To me, reading was as natural as eating and sleeping. As soon as I finished one book, I picked up another. This small town Southern girl fell in love more than once with characters on a page. Two years ago, I decided to take a more serious approach to writing. Before long, I’d let studying consume all my time and allowed the pleasure of reading to take a back seat.

I’d forgotten how it felt to get lost in a good book. The descriptions so vivid it seemed as if you were standing on the street in the midst of the story. The scenes and dialog creating such tension you found yourself gripping the book cringing, gasping, sometimes crying, or laughing out loud. You couldn’t wait to turn the next page. Then it dawned on me. This is why writers read.

The many magazines and books I’ve read on the craft of writing have given me a wealth of information. They were instructional, explanatory, more like telling” me “How to write.” On the other hand, picking up a classic, best-selling novel, or even a well-written short story, “Shows me how to write.” 

So, I challenge you. Pick up a book for pleasure. Lose yourself in the story. Use the knowledge you’ve gained from the resources on writing, and take the story apart.  How did the author do it? Look at the descriptions, study the dialog, characters, and the plot. After that one, pick up another one. Reading will make you a better writer.

“I love books. I love that moment when you open one and sink into it. You can escape from the world, into a story that’s way more interesting than yours will ever be.” Elizabeth Scott

I’m reading Sister of Silence by Daleen Berry. What are you reading for pleasure? Leave me a comment.

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How To Critique A Novel Chapter by Chapter

 

CHAPTER  by CHAPTER 

Our writer‘s group raised the question recently, “How do other groups critique novels, chapter by chapter?” With several authors bringing novels in for critique, we wanted to know if we had the best  process in place.

So, I took the challenge and decided to do a little research of other critique groups. I found the process other groups used were as individual as the groups themselves, but the content and the components  required to  make a well written chapter, varied not at all.

My writing group has been invaluable. However, after my research I  realized  we’d  glossed over or failed to mention  a number of elements in our critiques.  Seems we’d gotten into a rut, mentioning the same glaring things from one critique to the other. It was time we started digging a little deeper into our critiques and being specific.

Let me explain.

How many times have you walked into a book store and picked up a book, opened it to the first page and began reading? If you bought the book after reading the first few paragraphs or page, you were hooked. If not, you put the book back on the shelf and picked up another one.

To keep the book from going back on the shelf is exactly what an opening line, sentence or paragraph is supposed to do. Did the opening line hook you? Did it make you want to turn the page or buy the book? Of all the chapters, chapter one is the most important chapter of a novel. I was reminded to pay more attention to the details and dig deeper when critiquing the first chapter, not only the opening line, but the introduction of the main characterthe setting, voice, and the POV. 

The main character deserves a closer evaluation than whether  we like  them or not. Are they believable? Readers want  to understand the conflicts, problems, and obstacles placed in the character’s way. They want to connect with, cheer on, fear for, and worry about the character. So, evaluate the character from a readers perspective.

The inciting event is “something” that happens which propels the character into action and the story forward. This is the one thing that turns the character’s world upside down and on which all other action or reactions are based. Is the inciting event clear? Did it work, and is there a clear transition into the next scene or chapter? In subsequent chapters or scenes, you should see the domino effect from the inciting event, leading to more complications. Does the event make sense based on what you know about the character so far? It reminds me of Newton’s Law: For every action there is a reaction. So, talk about this in your critiques.

Which leads me to stakes, conflict and tension; every scene should have one of these elements. In order to keep the story moving and the reader interested, the author must raise  stakes for the character  or increase the tensionWithout them, the reader will be bored to death. All of which is worth mentioning in a critique.

You don’t want the reader to lose hope for your character or have the sensation  they’re racing through the story; is it a fast or slow read? That’s why pacing is an essential aspect to good critique. A well written story will have some periods of narrative for down time.  Look for the action and active verbs and evaluate whether the backstory is done naturally and only as necessary. I had glossed over this aspect of the critique before, but understand now, how crucial pacing is to the novel as a whole.

Dialogue is rarely overlooked in a critique but, the tendency is to look at dialogue tags or the use of passive voice, but there is much more than tags to evaluate. Is the dialogue difficult to read, incongruent with the characters, too stiff or confusing? Does the dialogue move the scene forward? (When the dialogue doesn’t move the story forward, consider its merits and don’t be afraid to recommend the author cut unnecessary dialogue).

Voice is one of those hard to define things for many people and is often overlooked in critiques. However, voice is very important. Voice is the way the story is written. It creates the mood and tone of the story. The question to ask is, does the voice reflect the right mood and tone for the story? Is the voice cohesive and does it work? This is something rarely mentioned in critiques, but voice does matter. I recently had a short story rejected, and in the letter, the reason was, “…the tone of the story wasn’t what we were looking for….”

The end of the Chapter (break) cannot be ignored in the critique. Transitioning from one chapter to the next is critical in determining whether the reader will continue and turn the next page. One of the things to evaluate in a critique is whether the chapter break was placed strategically. Was the tension high? Did the reader receive new information? Did something happen leaving the reader in suspense? Did you want to keep reading?

A thorough critique can be a time consuming process. To  help improve our methodology I recreated a checklist for our group to utilize as a reference tool. We use it as a reminder to be specific when critiquing fellow writers. You or your group may use a different process, but feel free to utilize the checklist on the link below.

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think about the checklist. I’d love to hear from you.

 

 


 

Critique a Novel

 

 

 

All Clear – Flash Fiction Story

 DOWNER MAGAZINE

a broken home for abrasive fiction

September 2012

ALL CLEAR

By: Sheila Good

They invited her into the room because of her expertise in the field, the family, and the doctor’s soft spot of guilt for bungling her case years ago. She stood stoic at the foot of the bed, as the code team applied paddles for the eighth time. Every time they got him back another run of ventricular tachycardia would start and his heart would stop.

“Clear!”

Rigid with interest, she didn’t want to miss a second. His body convulsed with each shock as her eyes darted back and forth from the monitor to the bed.

“Got him,” the nurse said.

She flinched. The paddles had worked for the moment. The team stepped back satisfied. A less dangerous heart rhythm danced across the screen and the steadier, stronger beeping sound of his heart rate were like ice picks to her soul.

The doctor handed the chart back to the nurse and walked over to her.

“Are you okay? “

She cut her eyes at him and waited for him to continue.

“We’ll transfer him as soon as he’s stable,” he said. “Right now, it’s just too precarious.”
She nodded feigning interest. The reality? She couldn’t have cared less.

He glanced at his buzzing pager then back at her. “He seems stable, for now. I need to check on other patients, but stay as long as you like, or if you prefer we can call you if anything happens.”

She crossed her arms, and leaned against the counter. “I’ll stay.”

He smiled, nodded his head in understanding, and gave her arm a consoling pat. “Don’t worry. I’ll check-in on him after rounds. I’m confident he’s safe with you. ”

The doctor left, and she let go, closing her eyes against the onslaught of memories. Alone in the room, she gripped her elbows as the years of hatred roared through her for the man who had stolen her childhood and robbed her of having a family.

She watched the monitor and prayed for the return dance of the V-tach across the screen. V-tach gave her hope.
“You’re here to watch me die,” he said.

At the sound of his scratchy, tired voice, she turned to face him for the first time in years. Her eyes were cold and hard. The beep-beep of his heart rate soared as their eyes met.

She stared at him, refusing to take the bait.

“I know that’s why you’re here. You hate me.”

The effort of talking and the stress of his sins were taking its toll. Short of breath, he fumbled with the oxygen mask, as beads of sweat popped out on his pasty brow, and she heard the stumble of the beeping as his heartbeat began its dance.

She pushed away from the counter and walked silently to the door, glanced out, nudging it closed before returning to the bed. His eyes followed her, uncertain.

Calmness, settled over her as she leaned in close to him, face-to-face. She smelled the fear on his breath and for the first time in a lifetime, felt free.

“You’re damn right,” she said.

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