I’m pleased to announce the publication of my middle-grade fictional book, The Rain Catcher! It’s been changed since I posted the earlier snippets of it, but the general idea is the same. The story is set in Scotland and follows 13-year-old Katy as she visits her estranged other for the first time in 10 years!
My book started off as a diary-format novella for adults, then morphed into a more complicated (3 points of view!) novel for adults, then just a plain (1 point of view) novel for adults. And now…it is a short chapter book for kids aged 11 and up! Phew!
So, all those adages about writing taking time, blah blah…well, they’re true! The idea for my story came after I took a trip to Scotland with my mum in 2006, so you can count back to see how many years it took me to get to this point!
If you have a young person in your life who likes to read, please give The Rain Catcher a try. It’s got some mild bad language, and there is definitely a dark side to it, but nothing worse than most kids see on the nightly news. If he or she likes adventure and is curious about traveling to another country, this might be a good fit for him or her. I’m going to be setting up a kid-friendly page on this website soon, so stay tuned!
I’ve been experimenting with the website pixton.com, which my friend Lisa Logan (also a writer) introduced me to. You can create your own comic strips or graphic novel – the trial period is free, and after that rates start at $8/month, which is pretty reasonable.
It’s a lot of fun, and as Lisa says, is also a kind of therapy. I’ve made comic strips about the election, my 3-year-old’s habit of shouting “Poop!” really loudly, and all sorts of things.
Anyway, I created a tiny ebook (PDF) for kids that lays out VERY basically how to write a story. Here it is if you’d like to share it with a kid you know. The age range is about 7 to 9 (my 2nd-grader helped me come up with ideas). So, please download it and let me know what you think! I’m hoping to do a longer, more detailed version at some point…eventually…
For the past few years, I’ve been attending a great writers’ conference in Raleigh, NC, hosted by the Triangle Association of Freelancers called Write Now! It’s a day-long event and includes an exceptional keynote speaker, great sessions, and lunch (not to mention a raffle) — all for only $69. These people really understand the concept of the “starving artist”!
Here are a few of my favorite tips that Klems shared in his keynote speech and also in his workshop about “writing like a pro”:
Make sure your manuscript is typo-free. This sounds obvious, right? But according to Brian, spelling your character’s name three different ways and getting “they’re, their, and there” mixed up are signs to an agent that you’re unprofessional, lazy, and not in it for the long haul. Yikes!
Get to know agents by doing your research first. Before he started pitching his book, Klems first made a list of traits he wanted in an agent. He or she would have to have children because the book was about being a parent, the ability to purchase TV rights, represent his book’s genre, and have a similar sense of humor as Klems. He thoroughly researched three agents (THREE!!), getting to know their interests and who their clients were. The third one he queried took on his book. The moral of the story? Quality not quantity!
Have more than one idea. Agents love lots of ideas, Klems said. If you get the opportunity to talk to an agent or editor, make the most of it. If he or she doesn’t like your first pitch, try another. Come prepared to pitch any ideas you have when you have the chance.
Hire an editor to help you with your query letter. You only get one chance to impress an agent, so give the query everything you’ve got, Klems said. (Especially if you only send out three!)
Be kind, useful, and network. Never badmouth an agent or author online; the publishing world isn’t that big, and who wants to work with a writer they perceive as being negative? Be useful by following agents and authors on social networks like Twitter and sharing their Tweets and other valuable information. Be an advocate for writers you admire — write positive reviews for them — and network with other writers. You may find your next beta readers, and maybe they’ll have a connection with magazines or agents.
I’ll post more great tips I learned at the conference in the next couple of weeks, so stay tuned! And feel free to share any advice you’ve learned about improving your odds of getting published.
Online creative writing classes at www.writingclasses.co.uk start today, but the first week is orientation, so you still have time to sign up! I know this because I’ve taken classes, and I used to tutor Creative Writing 1, Novel Writing 1, and (formerly) Intro. to Magazine Writing at the Edinburgh-based online school.
If you’re interested in creative writing — whether as a complete beginner or as an experienced writer who just needs a little boost — these are great classes! The tutors are so positive, and the notes and exercises help stretch your brain and get the creative thoughts zooming! Each course is 10 weeks, and you post writing assignments in public folders and comment on each others’ work. Students come from all corners of the globe — India, Scotland, England, Spain, Hong Kong, Dubai…
Anyway, I am still working away on The Rain Catcher and hope to post another snippet soon. Thanks to everyone who reads and supports my blog!
Hello! I’m just posting another snippet from my middle-grade novel, The Rain Catcher, which I hope to publish sometime this century! It’s about an American teenager, Katie, visiting her estranged mother in Scotland for the summer. The day after she arrives, her mom and aunt whisk her away on a bizarre road trip to the Highlands… If you’d like to catch up on the previous snippets, just click on The Rain Catcher under “Categories” in the right-hand column. Thanks!
Aunt Claire heaved on her cigarette and held the smoke in for longer than was safe for any human being. Then she hissed it out between a tiny hole in her teeth, as though savoring the burning smoke feeling.
“Really, Claire!” Mom tutted and coughed. “I don’t know how you can concentrate with all that smoke!”
“Well, who’s driving? Me or you?”
We passed a sign for Dumbarton, and I zonked out. When I woke up, we were driving past a lake, which sparkled bright blue when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.
“Where are we?” I asked. Mom had her eyes closed but wasn’t asleep; she was humming to herself, sort of like she was in a trance.
“Loch Lomond,” Aunt Claire called over her shoulder. She looked more awake now, and was actually smiling, glancing every now and then at the lake. “Gorgeous, isn’t it? You can see why they wrote a song about it.”
Aunt Claire stared at me in the rear view mirror as though I was a complete idiot. “The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond, of course! Don’t they teach you anything in those American schools?”
I smirked. “Okay, what’s our national anthem?”
“The Star Spangled Banner. Any dunce knows that!”
Maybe my aunt was right about the education system in North Carolina!
The two-lane highway surrounded by trees reminded me of being on the Blue Ridge Parkway with Dad. He has a friend, Jeb, who lives across the border in Virginia, and every so often we’ll visit him. Jeb lets us feed the cows and fish in his pond. He has a mad cocker spaniel who nips the cows’ ankles and yaps at anything that moves.
Suddenly, a truck zipped around the bend in front of us, making the car shake.
“Bloody hell!” Aunt Claire swerved left, too close to the rocky roadside, and there was a horrible scraping sound.
“What was that?” Mom jerked out of her trance.
“Hopefully nothing,” my aunt replied. But now the road felt lumpy, and it was obvious we had a flat tire. We poked along until Aunt Claire spotted a gravel pull-off and parked in a cloud of dust.
Aunt Claire jumped out and ran to the back of the car to inspect the damage. She gave a wail and kicked the tire with her boot. Then Mom and I got out. The wheel was flatter than an iron skillet, and the hubcab was twisted like a crushed Coke can.
“Wow! I’ve never seen a tire so flat,” I said, shaking my head. “You have a spare?”
“Of course I have a spare! I’m not a complete idiot!” Aunt Claire spat.
“We’ll handle it, Katy. Why don’t you go over there?” Mom pointed across the road at some cows.
“And do what?”
“And look at the beautiful Scottish wildlife!” Aunt Claire yelled. “Now, get out of here so we can fix this tire!”
“But do you know how to change a tire? Dad showed me—”
“Go on, Katy.” Mom waved her hands at me as though I was a wasp buzzing around her head..
I backed up. “Fine. I guess you don’t need my help.” Never mind that Dad had showed me how to change not only tires but also the oil in his truck. I was pretty sure my mom and aunt had never changed a tire in their lives.
I crossed the street and stood in front of the wire fence, watching orange shaggy cows with gigantic horns and pink wet noses. They were kind of cute, I had to admit. I pulled a handful of grass out of the earth and held it up for the cows. A smallish one trotted over and sniffed it before huffing and sauntering away again. I laughed.
“Sorry, I don’t have any treats!”
I turned around to see Mom and Aunt Claire leaning over the trunk of the car with their “bums” sticking up in the air, trying to pull out the spare tire. Did they even know what a jack was? They could figure it out for themselves.
Raindrops began to fall, hitting the back of my neck and making me shiver. Just what I needed. I pulled my jacket collar up and folded my arms for warmth. The cows huddled together. Luckily for them, they had their thick coats!
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, Mom shouted, “Okay, you can come back now.”
“Gee, thanks!” My knees were stiff with the cold, and I couldn’t stop shivering.
Back in the car, Mom waved a smoking leaf-thing around.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Sage. That dead cat in the boot is a bit pongy.” Aunt Claire started the engine.
“You still didn’t bury it?” I couldn’t believe we’d been stranded for an hour in the countryside and they hadn’t buried the dead cat.
“When was I supposed to bury it, smarty pants?” My aunt spat. “Before or after we struggled with nuts and bolts and a rusty jack? Before or after I ruined my nails?”
“Not my fault,” I said. “You didn’t want my help.”
“You know how to change a tire?” Mom asked, turning around in her seat to look at me properly.
“Of course. Dad showed me how. I tried to tell you before you shooed me across the road to look at cows for an hour.”
Mom and Aunt Claire looked at each other.
“Let’s just get out of here.” My aunt pushed up her sleeves and slammed on the gas, spinning the tires in the gravel as we hurtled back onto the road.
“Don’t get another flat,” I warned her.
Aunt Claire glared at me, and Mom covered her mouth with her hand to hide the smile.
I’m sharing my writer-friend Katie Hart’s short story here. It’s not only a great read, but she makes such a fascinating point about honoring your fictional characters! Until reading her story, I’d never really thought about the characters that way before — I am usually more consumed with the situation, the plot, the feelings going on in the story. But, of course, the characters are central to the story! So, Katie’s post is a “warning” to me to stop neglecting my characters!
Harvey sat in the waiting room clutching the flyer that had been pushed through his door only an hour ago. He hardly ever took note of mail that found its way through his letter box, but this one felt different, it had no flashy offers or huge wording that stood out to capture the imagination. Instead the paper was a pastel green just like the walls around him and in the centre in small bold print read: Dear Mr Harvey, we have summoned you to attend our writers convention at midnight tonight. Bring your published book and novel in writing don’t be late. Along the bottom was an address he had never heard of before, but he felt compelled to go and find out just what was going on? Maybe they were the fans of his latest novel When…
A few weeks ago, I attended the Write Now! conference in Raleigh, NC. David Morrell, prolific thriller author and the mind behind Rambo, was the keynote speaker. He also taught several workshops, which I was lucky enough to attend. Talk about words of wisdom — I must have scribbled several pages of notes, and I bought his book so I could read more!
Probably the most interesting (and possibly, valuable) lesson I learned from Mr. Morrell was his idea, “Every person has a dominant emotion.” According to Morrell, all writers have some “defect” that pushes them to be writers. Otherwise, why would we sit alone for hours a day, writing in virtual solitary confinement? For Morrell, his dominant emotion is fear — fear based on traumatic early childhood experiences with an abusive step-father. That’s what drew him to write thrillers, a genre where the main character must escape at all costs, where his/her life is at stake. Morrell says that we all have things inside ourselves “that are desperate to be communicated.” That’s why it is so important for writers to write for themselves, and not to please others.
“Are you willing to be open to yourself?” Morrell asked the crowd that Saturday. He encouraged us to have the courage to write what we’d always wanted to say. He gave the example of Edith Wharton “breaking ranks” and writing about the oppressive, superficiality of the wealthy society she grew up in. As Morrell talked, I tried to figure out what my dominant emotion was; what were the words I’d always wanted to say but had been afraid to write? If you want to be a writer, it’s worth finding out!