I'm weird when I'm writing

My goal this year is to try not to be so odd.

Let me explain. When I'm deep in a writing project, working out the details of a story can be all-consuming. So much so that tasks in the life outside my head get sacrificed. Like errands. And housework. Feeding the dog. And, once, I'm ashamed to admit, picking up the kids. I've stepped into traffic because I was writing dialogue in my thoughts. I've looked directly at people I recognize on the street and never have it register because a plot point was taking up all the space in my brain. Compartmentalizing is not my strong point.

And when I'm forced to interact with anyone after hours of writing? Forget about it. I'm sure there's a sizable contingency of moms in my daughter's class who think I'm brain addled. Conversations frequently go like this:

Normal person: "Hi, Wendy. What's going on?"

Me: (Blank stare.) I really either need to kill that character off or give him more of a purpose. I like him, though. Okay. I'll go with purpose. Wait, someone's giving me a funny look. Wake up. "Oh. What? Hi."

NP: "Um. I said, 'What's going on?' You know. 'How are you?'"

Me: "Yes. Sorry. Er, I'm okay." But what can he do? That's like a whole other subplot, and I'm probably long on subplots anyway. Hello? Why is she still looking at me? I guess I need to say something. "Oh. And how've you been?"

NP: "Fine." (Looks around for polite escape.)

This is not good.

So. I'm focusing on interpersonal skills this fall. You know, that talent that used to come so easily? I was the girl in school who had to be moved all around the classroom for chatting. A teacher once even remarked, "I'd move you next to the wall, but you'd probably talk to that, too."

I joined a writing group (in person!) I'm becoming more involved in community service (with people!) I signed up as a tour guide at my kids' school (45 whole minutes of talking per tour!)

Hopefully I can become a people-person again. At least, when I need to be.

How about you? Do you often live inside your head?

Yeah, um, about that main character...

I do quite a lot of reading and critiquing other writer's manuscripts--sometimes online, for real-life friends, or for my Most Awesome Critique Group. I like reading for others and it's essential for my own work to hear the opinion of trusted fellow writers to tell me what works, what's dragging, and if my main character is coming across as clever and witty (good!), or just a bitch (not so much good.)

I've critiqued Middle Grade, Young Adult, Sci-Fi, Paranormal, Poetry, Short Stories (many) Thriller, literary fiction, and LOADS of women's fiction. I'm genre-promiscuous. The one thing I have a tougher time ripping apart so the author can put it back together is memoir, or thinly-veiled fiction about the author.

Now, most of the time I can do it. I can find issues with pacing, or characterization, or whatever.

But this one time.

This one time, I just did NOT like the main character at all. At ALL.* She was vain and mean! And did terrible things other people's expense! And didn't change a whit throughout the story! And it was So. Clearly. Her.

Gawd. What do you do then? "Hey, the story was fine, but I didn't really like, um...you."

I gave her kind of a half-assed critique, but was too chicken to come right out and say what I was thinking. I know--to each her own. Other people might dig it.

What would you do? Tell her your real thoughts? Or dance all around it?

*If I've critted for you and you are reading this thinking OMG SHE'S TALKING ABOUT ME, don't worry, I'm not. I guarantee the author doesn't read this blog.

'Gratz

I'm kind of belated with this, but wanted to congratulate some fellow writerly types on recent successes:

--Courtney Allison Moulton snagged a 3-book deal with Katherine Tegen / HarperCollins.

--Debra Schubert signed with Bernadette Baker-Baughman of Baker's Mark Literary Agency. You can read all about her journey here.

--Jill Myles has not one, but TWO books coming out in the upcoming weeks! She'll be making an appearance here on the blog soon talking about...what else? sex.

I'm sure I'm missing a few. Please comment if you know of anyone else!

Now I'm off to do some Christmas shopping. What mother of two girls would miss out on picking up one of babies to teach important life skills?:

Awww, isn't she adorable? But I have to say, she won't earn many tips with THAT outfit. Take it off! Woo!

Oh dear. I hope this is a hoax.

Pumped up for the show

Can you get up in front of an audience and tell your story with no notes, no papers, just you and a microphone? My friend Jayne can, and she invited me to a fundraiser last week to celebrate just that. The Moth is an organization that hosts storytelling events all over the city (and beyond) featuring a nightly theme and five storytellers who share a ten-minute tale about their lives.

Watching the performers that night reminded me of my college weekend job at a comedy club. I worked as a bartender/waitress and often served drinks to the comedians gearing up in the green room. Even with the uber-confident performers, the vibe in the room (which wasn't green, by the way) skewed tense, and I was careful not to disturb whatever process they needed in preparation to go on stage. Some comedians became arrogant, even belligerent, pumping up their tough persona only to slip out of it like a dirty suit after they finished. Others withdrew in the green room, quiet and nervous, muttering punch lines to no one.

Whatever their behavior in the green room, I rooted for each one when the show began. Even the guy who grabbed my ass (and apologized later.) Okay, yes, I had some skin in their success as well -- more laughs = bigger tips. But I respected the people who could get up on the stage with nothing but a microphone and open themselves up like that.

The Moth doesn't allow stand-up comedy at their performances. Still, some performers kill and some bomb. And the prerequisites are the same: you, a microphone, and a pair of brass balls.

Rejection through email is bad enough. At least writers rarely deal with hecklers.

How about you? Could you get up and tell your story?

Silver Phoenix book signing and get-together

Over the weekend, my dear (and, up to this point, virtual) friend Cindy Pon was in town and I hosted a book signing for her in my apartment. I had about 16 or so people over for coffee, mimosas, and many, many sweets. "What?" you might be saying, "You let a bunch of strangers into your house for a PARTY? Are you nuts?" 

Possibly. But that's a different issue. Cindy couldn't book an official signing, being it Rosh Hashanah and all. She asked about coffee shops that might be fun, but the problem with coffee shops in New York is that very few look like Central Perk and they are ALWAYS full of people. Full. And my apartment is not. So. Come on over!

And it was worth it. I met a bunch of Absolute Write friends, who weren't exactly strangers, since I know so much about them (but yeah, still kinda, since I didn't know what they looked like. Turns out Lara is NOT a smoking teddy bear. She looks like this):

She's the woman in the middle. Not even a little bear-like!

Some of Cindy's other writerly and arty friends came as well. Such fun. A veritable salon. Of course, I think that any group of people gathered together talking about subjects other than a) children, b) the stock market, or c) travel plans is some sort of great intellectual exchange. Really, my standards are low. Still, books were discussed. 

Lawrence Wong was nice enough to take these pictures, plus many others, including some great shots of my dog. Thanks!