THE STORY OF A STORY

Are you a fast writer? Do you turn out one story after another, maybe several in one year? I know writers that do. Wish I could, but I'm slow. I mean really slooow. Take for instance the story I'm shopping around at the moment.

The story started out entitled SURVIVORS' CLUB. It's about four teens that help each other survive school and their families.

I started it in December of 2009. Yes, that was quite a while ago. Worked on it and worked on it.

My critique group read some of the chapters. Thank you, Cheryl, Beth, and Gail for your welcome comments and advice. Thank you, Kai, from another group for hanging in there with me and reading the whole thing, more than once.

So, month after month my characters led me along, sometimes telling me what to do, other times giving me silence and letting me figure out where they were going myself.

I typed. I revised. And finally decided I needed an expert eye to look the story over. I sent it to an editor for a critique. She went over the manuscript thoroughly. Boy, did she. Which is what I wanted her to do. Be honest. Be truthful. She evaluated each character, told me their strong points and also their weak points. She pointed out problems with the plot. The story I thought was perfect and ready to be submitted needed some adjustments.

In 2014, I started over. The characters were the same. I couldn't get rid of them because I really liked them. Each character's ARC was improved. Each one actually made a discovery about him/herself this time.

And, the title even changed. The old one just didn't seem right anymore. So SURVIVORS' CLUB became UNDER A PURPLE MOON.

I sent the story to a couple of publishers. One wasn't interested; the other one never replied.

I would not give up, because I really liked the story now. So I queried another publisher. They asked to see sample chapters. YAY! Of course, I knew that didn't mean a lot. But then, they wanted to see the whole thing. I took a breath. One step closer, but still facing reality.

They liked the whole story, but had a couple of suggestions. Ones that made good sense. I went back through the story, made a few changes, and sent the new version to them. Now, in September, 2015, six years after I started the story, I wait to see if it will be published. If they like it, wonderful. If not, I like it and will keep trying. Will let you know either way.

How about you? Are you a slow writer or a fast writer?

Happy Reading!

Roads and Detours

I enjoy walking in the evenings. There’s nothing like the blue sky with a fluffy cloud or two, a gentle breeze to cool my face, and the soft call of the dove, or the "Bobwhite, Bobwhite" of the quail to relax me and sometimes to let me work out a problem I’m having with a story.

My characters usually start down a certain road. Maybe they’re pursuing a dream. Maybe they’re in trouble and are trying to figure out a solution. Or maybe they just follow along with the crowd, wherever their friends go, they go, their destination unclear. Whatever the reason for choosing a particular road, what happens when they reach a crossroad and there’s more than one path to follow? Or the way they’ve been going is blocked, and they have to take a detour.

Oh wow! That’s when the fun begins. When I’m walking, I might see a butterfly flitting around the flowers, so I change directions and take a detour from my planned path to get a closer look at the butterfly. What kind of butterfly is it? Can I take its picture?

Or I may see an unusual wild flower, one that I’ve never noticed before. Of course I must investigate. How did it get in my pasture? Will it survive in its new environment? Only time will tell. (Pardon the cliché.)

One day when I was walking I saw an ant trail. It isn't real clear here, but you can see it faintly running through the middle of the picture.

A few steps later this is what it looked like. See the fork in the road.

Some ants evidently decided to take a detour. They must have seen something that intrigued them. (Normally the field is green and lovely,  but this summer we broke all records and had the hottest, driest summer ever recorded.)



Of if a baby bird is just learning to fly, I have to stop and watch it awhile. If an armadillo is digging for its supper, I can’t resist taking a closer look. I can learn much about nature by observing an animal's behavior or what is growing around me. Sometimes what I see even leads to a book, like my first picture book, Frankie’s Perfect Home, about … you guessed it … an armadillo.

When our characters decide to take a detour, it’s sometimes frustrating, at least to me. I want them to go in a certain direction. How dare they mess up my plot. However, if I stop and listen to my protagonist, he/she may have much better plans than I have. Who am I to argue? It is her/his story, after all.

Shh. Don’t tell my characters I said this. They think it’s all their idea. But I love those detours that lead me to unknown places and strengthen my plot into a story that’s more exciting than my original tale.

It’s time to take a walk, I think, because I’m stuck at a crossroads with my current story.

See you later. I wonder if we'll take a detour.

Beginnings and Endings and Dingles. Oh my!

I have trouble with both the beginnings and endings of stories but, fortunately, not at the same time. Beginnings of stories are the worst—except when endings are the worst.

BEGINNINGS

We all know that we’re supposed to hook the reader immediately at the beginning of a novel. Depending on who you talk to, that hook had better happen by the 5^th page (“The First Five Pages” by Noah Lukeman), somewhere in the first paragraph, or even in the first sentence. On FB, Polly Iyer writes, “Ah, the penchant for getting all the action up front. That's what everyone wants. Like everything else these days, no patience.” I’ve read that a hook should coincide with “where the story actually begins”, but where is that? I believe it’s different for different readers and authors.

Hooks are supposed to grab the reader by being interesting—to readers. I have an ongoing problem with this. To me, -characters- are pretty darn interesting, so I want to explore them a bit in the first couple of pages of my novels. Yes, I’ve learned this is a no-no, unless one is writing a literary novel. I do YA fantasy adventure.

Once “Seabird” was nearly completed, I inserted an action-packed Prologue as a hook for the reader. Since then, I’ve heard that many novel readers skip prologues. Oh well.

In “Earthbow”—the sequel to “Seabird”—I managed some serious tension, action, and a bit of a puzzle about a page into the novel’s first chapter. Chapters 2 & 3 have fragments of tension as well, mixed in with character development. “Earthbow” has no prologue. Did I get it right? I doubt it—after all, there’s no danger to life and limb until at least the eighth paragraph.

Right now, I’m beginning to revise the sequel to “Earthbow”, which is multi-volumed and is so long I frequently refer to it as “The Book That Intends to Eat Delaware.” In my first draft—surprise, surprise—all of my tension and action was in the second chapter while the first was largely characterization. I’m trying to figure out a way to reverse the two chapters, or alternate scenes from both.

I haven’t mentioned short stories so far and for a very good reason—I only rarely come up with an idea for one. Once I actually have an idea the chances are 50-50 that the resulting story will not be publishable quality. I suppose you could say that I have more trouble with the beginnings of short stories than I do with their endings, if by that we mean that I can’t get a new short story started, no matter how hard I stare at the screen or “free-write”. On the other hand, a short story that never comes into existence can hardly be faulted for having a bad beginning.

So, who here has troubles with writing the beginnings of novels or short stories? If you do, what kinds of difficulties present themselves? How have you overcome them? Any tips you can pass on to the rest of us?

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ENDINGS

Endings give me lots more trouble than beginnings. Part of this is the fault of National Novel Writing Month. For those who don’t know, NaNoWriMo is a yearly challenge to authors to write 50,000 words on any fiction project between November 1 and Nov 30.

I’ve participated and “won” five years since I started doing NaNo back in 2003. “Winning” in NaNo, as I said, is completing 50,000+ words before midnight on Nov. 30. The problem is what if you haven’t finished your first draft by then? What happens on Dec. 1? The correct answer should be that you continue writing but at a less frenetic pace. Er, not my answer. In my case, I take a long nap, and wake up the next Nov. 1. ;-P

Currently, I have five novels that are lacking their endings. Every one of them was involved in NaNo in some way—even the last part of “The Book That Intends To Eat Delaware.” If I stop writing a novel part of the way through, I have serious trouble picking up where I left off—even if I have a detailed outline for the rest of the book. Novel manuscripts to which you cannot guarantee complete endings do not attract publishers for some reason. I think I need professional help. Any ideas gratefully accepted!

So I sometimes have trouble writing the end of novels—do I have trouble writing the ends of short stories? Not often. On the rare occasion that I’m writing a short story I write the whole thing pretty much in one sitting. If I’m actually writing and completing a short story, you’ll know it—the sky turns a lovely shade of sky-blue-pink and you can see multi-colored stars during the day. Sometimes they sing but they’re too dignified to dance.

Is there anyone reading this who has trouble with unearthing the ends of their t/a/i/l/s/ tales? Has NaNoWriMo ever been involved? What else gave you trouble? What did you do to complete your story? Oh, it isn’t? Sorry! I’ve thought about finding a writing partner—has anyone tried that?

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Well, that’s Beginnings and Endings. That brings us to Middles and Dingles.

“Dingle” is a work-in-progress short story that’s been without a middle or an ending for almost two decades.

I liked the beginning ever since it fooled me into writing it down. I wasn’t concerned when I started—after all “Dingle” was going to be a –short- -story- so, naturally, I would come up with the rest of it as I typed.

Not so much.

“Dingle” and I could use some help. Please read what’s below and see if you have any ideas about what will happen next. If you do, please consider adopting “Dingle”. What’s more if you can turn “Dingle” into a complete story, we’ll work out some kind of ownership thing which will probably amount to me giving you my section or what’s left of it after revision. In addition, I’ll send you a copy of one of my books as a thank you.

You can write short suggestions for finishing “Dingle” in the Comments if you like. Naturally, revisions of the current paragraphs are fair game. If you write the rest of the story, please send it to me at KhivasMommy AT gmail DOT com . When my next turn comes to blog here at YAAYNHO (in three weeks), I’ll report back on any suggestions, etc that I’ve received.

Please don’t leave a poor defenseless little story part on its own. Thank you!

Sherry Thompson, author of “Seabird” (http://amzn.to/bKBQ7x ) “Earthbow vol.1” (http://amzn.to/b9vDW1 ) and “Earthbow vol.2” ( http://amzn.to/bw3UCe )

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Dingle (work in progress)

Sherry Thompson

Critter scuffed his way across the bare, unvarnished floor, sneezing at the dust he’d stirred up. It was colder today than he’d expected. He wrapped his quilted robe tighter about him, and then retied the rope belt. If Magnus didn’t come soon, he’d have to light a brazier just to keep warm. And that would attract the Night Watchers. Not something you wanted to do, when it was nearly dusk.

He shuffled over to the one window and glared down at the path. Not a sign of Magnus, ...or of anyone else. Maybe, if he went outside and yanked hard on the chain, he could get that blasted shutter to close over the window. Then, it wouldn’t matter if he lit a fire in the brazier or not. The Watchers could do a lot, but they couldn’t see through wood. At least, not the last he’d read.

Blast Magnus! Icy air was seeping in the through the window, even though it was on the lee side of the cottage. Well, that was it. Might as well go and try to close the window.

Critter thrust his dagger and sheath under the ragged rope of his belt, and crept to the door. He stood a moment with the side of his head so close to the surface that his ear kept flicking. Not a sound, except the tiny ones of his held breath and the soft whoosh of his ear fur against the rough wood. Might as well try as not.

He took a great breath, and slipped through the door as noiselessly as he was able. It seemed a shade brighter outside than it had in, but the coming of sunset was undeniable. Shivering from nervousness as much as cold, Critter scuttled to the right front corner of the cabin and peeked around it. Nothing there but the larxs bushes, their stringy leaves black and rustling in the last light of the sun. He crept between the closest one and the side wall. Merhule, the shutter chain was high! Been so long since he’d tried to close the window, he’d near forgot...

A sudden, familiar scent tickled his nose. Critter scarcely began to turn, before he found clammy skin pressed over his nose passages, simultaneous with a strong blow to his midriff. The combined assaults made all the air in his lung burst from his mouth. He choked, unable for the moment to fight back.

The ghost of a giggle blew warmly into his right ear. The grip about his midriff loosened enough for him to pull away from the hand on his nose.

“Magnus! I’ll skin you for that...”

“Not Magnus, imp. Merhule! What are you doing? Oh, the shutter.”

Critter leaned against the wall and gasped in air, as the newcomer reached up and easily pulled the shutter down and closed. Briefly, while Dingle was occupied with the task, Critter considered darting off into the darkness. But, before the thought was more than half-formed, it was already too late.

Dingle had grasped his elbow and was guiding him back toward the door.

“Waiting for Magnus, what?” Dingle chuckled deep in his throat. “Might not be coming tonight, what. Might not. Might not, at that.” He shook his head, as he closed the door between them and the outside world.

Thompson/Dingle