Whose Idea Was This?

By Jessica Park

Andrew is currently curled up on the floor in a fetal position and twirling his hair into tiny circles (read: deep editing phase for his newest novel). So being the friend that I am, I of course stepped around him on my way the fridge. No, that's actually not true--actually, being his friend, I offered to fill in for him today. On my way to the fridge.

God, it’s so great being a writer! I mean, except for the anxiety, panic, mental blocks, fear, self-loathing...

No, no. I really do love being a writer. But I often strongly side with Dorothy Parker and her famed sentiment, “I hate writing, I love having written.” Finishing a book gives a sense of accomplishment like no other, and it’s what I strive for.

I mean, obviously. Hello? Who sets out to write half a book?

It’s the getting there that can be tricky.

My ideas start slowly in the back of my mind. A feeling, a scene, maybe even just a line that I want to hear a character say. And then I build an entire book around that. Piece by piece. It can take weeks or months for that initial idea to grow into a full-blown plot, and the slow pace can drive me nearly insane. I want to go, I want it done and over!

I have a fantasy that I’ll come up with a book idea, sit down at the computer, and bang out a concise, logical outline in what I envision as a studious, authorly manner. I’ll be wearing a gorgeous Ralph Lauren ensemble. There could be riding boots, perhaps. Hair fabulously styled, yet still with the appearance of being casual. A thoughtful, diligent expression on my face as I focus and organize my ideas while poised at my mahogany desk...

Pfft. Hardly. Here are more likely scenarios:

1. I’m driving in the car, and a song comes on. I feel something... pain, love, hurt, angst, hope. But I feel. My thoughts wander and become daydreams. My brain goes into overdrive, triggered by a word or phrase. Movie-like scenes flash before my eyes. I miss my exit... The song goes on repeat for the next eight hours as I drown in the emotion. Or maybe as I cling to it, I will spend a week obsessing over this song and this scene. Periodically I scrawl fractured notes on scraps of paper and misplace them. But the scene is solidified.

Only 89 more to go...

2. I’m on the treadmill, and I think about my book. I close my eyes and grip the side bars as I walk ferociously up the incline. I will walk toward something. The movie images return, soon flashing the same scene over and over, but with no forward motion. So I play it again. What happens next? I turn up the music, pick up my pace. I listen. Listening to characters can bring amazing solutions to stumbling blocks. I should do it more. I fly off the back of the treadmill, probably trip over laundry, and scramble to wake up my laptop. Notes. I have to make notes now. Because I got it. I found a piece of the story.

Only 88 more to go...

Later, I will somehow string together my one-line quotes, my jumbled notes, my definitives, and my questions. And after many, many cups of coffee and very few hours of sleep, after immersing myself (often too deeply) in a fictional world that feels oh-so-non-fictional, an entire book will be born.

It ain’t glamorous, but it’s the truth. And a truth that I wouldn’t change, because when the right ideas come, they drive away the angst and worry, and confusion.

Then writing is not my work, it is very simply my air.

 Jessica Park is the author of LEFT DROWNING, the New York Times bestselling FLAT-OUT LOVE (and the companion piece FLAT-OUT MATT), and RELATIVELY FAMOUS. She lives in New Hampshire where she spends an obscene amount time thinking about rocker boys and their guitars, complex caffeinated beverages, and tropical vacations. On the rare occasions that she is able to focus on other things, she writes. Please visit her at jessicapark.me and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/authorjessicapark and Twitter @JessicaPark24

Write the Damned Story you Want to Write

By Andrew E. Kaufman

One of the most difficult decisions I ever had to make as an author happened early in my career. I had made the choice to jump genres—that is to say, going from being a perceived horror writer to a perceived thriller writer. I never saw myself as belonging to a particular genre. I just wrote what I wanted to write. I don’t think it was so much a matter of consciousness as a matter of instinct.

Then my audience began to grow, and then I started thinking from inside my head. I became worried that the change might force my readers away, that they might not follow me to the next book. Luckily, I trusted those instincts and the next book did significantly better than the last.

Fast forward to about three years later. Apparently, I still hadn’t learned my lesson. I was trying to decide whether to continue on with a series after the first two books and feeling a similar dilemma: once again, I was overthinking, trying to put my head on the readers’ shoulders instead of keeping it where it belonged. I was worried they would feel disappointed if I didn’t continue on with the story. In other words, I wasn’t following my instincts. A road that by now I’ve learned is always a bad one.

Then one day, while having lunch with a colleague, I explained my concerns, and she gave me what I now consider to be among the soundest advice I’ve ever received:

She said, “Don’t worry about all that. Write the damned story you want to write. Brand yourself, not your books—if you do that, it won’t matter what you write. Your audience will read it.”

It was one of those statements that instantly snaps into place, sticks there, and shorty thereafter, you understand it to be the plain and honest truth. I’ve always believed that, if you feel what you write, so will your readers. After all, it’s not necessarily what you write that matters most—it’s who you are as a writer, what inspires you, and if you stick with that, the rest always takes care of itself.

As with most authors I love, it doesn’t really matter what they write about or what genre their work falls under. It’s their execution and talent that draws me in each time I open one of their books. In those cases, I believe they followed their passion instead of their head, and as my colleague said, they wrote the damned story they wanted to write.

And with the publishing industry being as wobbly as it is, and with the concept of “what will sell” changing all the time, it makes sense that longevity is attained not by following trends or trying to guess what your readers want—it’s attained by trusting your instincts. Books change all the time—but the writer is a constant.

This time, I finally followed that advice, and the result has been one of the most rewarding and seamless writing experiences I’ve ever had. More than that, I’m having the best time, and each new day, I can’t wait to sit down and get back to work. This book is a complete departure from anything I’ve ever written up until now, but somehow it doesn’t matter to me.

Because I’m writing the damned story I want to write.

Andrew E. Kaufman, author of whatever inspires him.
www.andrewekaufman.com

Location

By Jenny Hilborne, author of mysteries and thrillers

Many writers juggle their writing career with other obligations; chores, family, and often a full time job. We are always distracted. For those of us lucky enough to work at our writing full time at home, the distractions still exist in the form of the mailman, telemarketers, noise from neighbors, missionaries knocking on the door. The list is not exhaustive. Then there's social media - possibly the biggest distraction of all, and far worse when you have all day to use it.

I need solitude and silence to focus, a place away from home and everyday distractions. A writers retreat. I've dreamed of it for ages. Last week, I went on such a retreat, although not alone. I was invited by my sister to spend a week in a remote part of Wales, with an ocean view. Couldn't get better than this, I decided, and went along. Here's the view I enjoyed.

I set up my writing desk at the dining table with the ocean in front of me. On my first 2 days, a ship was positioned right at the end of the rock jutting out from the mainland. I spent 2 days watching the water and wondering about the boat. Who was on it? What were they doing? I imagined pirates, spies, and fishermen. When a smaller boat sailed out and joined it, my imagination went wild. Hostages, loot? Who knew?

I'm sure it was nothing so interesting, but while my imagination was fired up by this view, my writing suffered. I actually found this view distracting; so beautiful I couldn't stop gazing out of the window. I might have done better looking out at the countryside, but I doubt it. I'm beginning to believe I might do my best work within the confines of four walls with no view to distract me.

What about you? What is your favorite writers retreat? Do you find the views distracting? Does it work to go in a group, or do you do better alone?

The Scene of the Crime

By Peg Brantley, Writer at Work, Stumbling Toward Publication



Tom Adair's post this week inspired me.

I'm forever curious about the spaces in which people live and work. Do they surround themselves with memories, or are they more utilitarian?

Both C.J. West and Tom wrote recently about things people leave behind, and what those things say about them. Well, I'm here. This is where I spend most of my days, and much of my nights.

What you see above is my trash can, and my Buzzy Slippers (they have a buzzing mechanism triggered by pressing down just a little) which I haven't used all summer, but will be perfect for this winter.

This is where I imagine crimes and research them. Where I pit people against their own demons and try and give them the worst possible obstacles to overcome. Or not. This is my scene of the crime.

The candle is important. Not sure why, but it is. There's a fireplace near me too, and it's loaded with wood and ready to light.

The photograph is my mom. She believes in me and tells me constantly that I can do this. She was a very smart lady, and there's no reason for me to quit paying attention to her now.

The bookends are special. The one nearest the photograph says, "Do read to someone. When words are infused by the human voice, they come alive." ~Maya Angelou

Different encouragers include more family photos, and four shelves of books—either research-based or craft based.

I've come to learn that simply surrounding myself with this much knowledge doesn't get the trick done.  So, I've read bits and pieces of almost all of them.

A

This photograph is the most important encourager of them all—the Love of My Life. I call him George.

I like my pens, too. They're cheerful.

And that little round disc? That's a remote for the fan. With the candles and the fireplace and the western exposure and certain flashes of the hot variety, it comes in handy.

And finally, my little code words that have nothing to do with a car manufacturer.

I love the feeling I get when the ideas are flying and I'm pretty much in a trance while I write. Way better than drugs.

Now that you've seen bits and pieces of my space, there's something else I should share: I can imagine a critic one day saying that the only crime committed here was Peg Brantley trying to write. But that's another story.