You Will Be Deleted!
For over a year now there has been an elephant in this room (if we imagine, for a moment, my blog as a physical space). Have you noticed that new copies of Petty Magic are no longer available online? That the novel was never issued in paperback?These are minor disappointments in the cosmic scheme of things—a writer's career knows peaks and troughs like any other line of work—but when I reflect on the fact that I am 32 years old and already out of print, I can't help thinking of the Cybermen on Doctor Who. Right before they blast you into oblivion, they announce in booming robotic monotone, YOU WILL BE DELETED! 
I laugh when I draw this comparison, because of course I'd much rather be out of print than blasted into oblivion. No matter what happens, I feel blessed to be alive and healthy and living my joy (especially when horrible things happen). I can't stake my happiness on factors beyond my control—like, say, the decision of some anonymous number cruncher in a Manhattan skyscraper. To do so would be the very definition of insanity, as I wrote on my friend Nova's blog last year. If I hadn't had this pinchy, seemingly-humiliating, sometimes-frustrating-as-hell experience, I would not be the person I am now, and I like this version of myself better than any I've ever been.That said, I wish we writers could be more candid with each other (and with our readers) about the challenges we face. When I found out Petty Magic would not be published in paperback, and again when the book went out of print, I felt embarrassed and ashamed, as if I could have prevented it by doing more on social media or being more assertive with my publicist. I didn't feel that I could speak honestly about my experience for several reasons: because friends' careers seemed to be going well and I didn't want to rain on anyone else's parade; fear of my frankness being perceived as "sour grapes"; or an ego-driven impulse to pretend things were going well for me work-wise so that no one would think of me as a failure.But as I told a friend who is in a similarly difficult situation right now, no one will think you're a failure, and if they do, they're no friend of yours anyway. When it comes to art, the only failure is in never having tried. I believe that with my whole heart.So where does this leave me now? Goodness, there's a lot to tell you! As I mentioned recently, over the past couple of years I've written two novels: a children's novel and an adult novel I initially thought would be YA since the protagonist is sixteen. This novel, Bones & All, was the project I was revising at Hawthornden this past January, and we put it through a couple more rounds before my agent submitted it to Crown as my option project. We fully expected they'd decline to publish it simply because my first two books did not make them any money. When everyone who loves your work is let go, all that's left is "the bottom line." (When I first started as an editorial assistant at HarperCollins almost 11 years ago, I was shocked when a jaded young colleague said, "You think you're part of something noble here, but at the end of the day, it's just another book—a product like anything else.")But I have good news for you. I've been given a new home and a fresh start, and I will share all the details with you very soon.As for Petty Magic? There's an audiobook in the works through ACX (short for Audiobook Creation Exchange), which means you'll be able to purchase it through Audible or iTunes starting sometime in July. I've found a marvelous narrator—or rather, she found me!—and I'm really excited to hear her bring Eve and the beldames' world to life. Unfortunately, in order to get the rights back to produce the audiobook, Crown had to take the ebook off the market. We're investigating some options for digital reissue, I have hopes of a second chance in paperback once Bones & All becomes a solid seller, and in the meantime the hardcover is still available on Amazon at a bargain price.Thank you so, so much for all your enthusiasm and support over the past six years. I can't express how grateful I am for you faithful readers and friends!
Hello, Boston!
Speaking of massive life changes...
...last week I moved to Boston! (My dear Amiee drove me up.) How random and awesome is that??
The courtyard at the Boston Public Library.(Not random at all. But very, very awesome.)
Exploring my new neighborhood.
(You know how I love the graveyards.)
This one is especially for Paré. (More information about Little Free Libraries here.)
Pine Manor College. (I almost feel like I'm back at Yaddo.)
I've been going to Back Bay Yoga and using my new juicer. I feel so healthy!
The Heart is a Compass
After that rather enigmatic post two weeks back, a couple of friends (faithful blog readers—thank you, thank you!) were a bit concerned when I wrote that "some important people in my life aren't going to like the direction I'm headed in." It's nothing dramatic, it's just the ordinary resistance you experience when the people who have always loved you don't see why you need to change.
This is how I feel on the inside, every day.As you may know, I went vegan two years ago this month. I have never felt happier, more loving or more at peace with my place in the world. I have never felt such clarity of mind and purpose. I am more honest than I used to be, and every day I experience joy and gratitude on way deeper levels. I love the lifestyle so much that I want to share this feeling with anyone who is open to it!This is the shift I was alluding to a few weeks ago: I will always write novels, but novels aren't enough. So in June I'll be training with Victoria Moran to become a vegan lifestyle coach, with a focus on veganism for enhanced creativity. I am insanely excited about this new epoch in my career; I can see my life unfolding decade by decade toward (and past) the century mark, and this really is the beginning of the big work. No matter your dietary habits or personal philosophy, I trust you will support me as I make myself as useful as I can possibly be. (Later on in the summer I'll be launching a brand-new website, which will have my book stuff and the vegan coaching stuff all in one place. I'm also making the jump to Wordpress, which means I'll have spam filters that actually work!)I want to tell you more about the internal changes I experienced when I went vegan at Sadhana Forest two years ago, so you see how the shift came about and why I believe in the connection between veganism and creativity.I arrived in India a longtime vegetarian feeling increasingly uneasy about consuming dairy products, although I wasn't able to articulate this until afterward. I was really excited at the prospect of spending a month in a vegan community, so when Jamey sat down next to me at dinner one night and asked, "What's keeping you from going vegan?", I was totally ready to hear him out. He spoke his truth, and it became my truth. It felt like my head had cracked itself open and a great white light was shining through. Or—if you want to describe it more prosaically—a light bulb went off.
You are still hurting animals by consuming their milk and eggs.
You were not built to eat these things.
The world will be a better place for your choosing not to eat them any longer.
I was giddy with joy for having made the choice to go vegan. And then, a few days later, I came down with sunstroke.I'd been drinking lots of water, but I hadn't been getting enough electrolytes. (It happened to pretty much everyone at some point.) So I spent six days in the "healing hut," alternately stumbling to the toilets and taking reluctant sips of downright nasty electrolyte powders dissolved in water. I slept a lot.It sounds miserable, I know. I was miserable. But my brain was alight, and whenever I woke up from a fever dream I had to scribble in my journal. I finally got "the click" for my epic Edinburgh novel, what McCormick has referred to (bless her!) as "my Wolf Hall." I tossed, I turned, I roused myself and wrote GOTHIC SATIRE! in exuberant capitals. I'd been waiting a long time for that click, and when it happened I momentarily forgot how rotten I felt. Looking back on those six days in the healing hut, I wonder if my body checked out so that my brain could process the leaps I was taking--psychologically, spiritually, and creatively.It may seem at first like I'm making too much of this--making a connection between going vegan and getting good ideas when it's just a coincidence--but believe me, it isn't. Ever since I began writing in earnest in 2002, I have had "trough periods" in between novel projects. These periods could last up to two years, and were characterized by false starts, frustration, and plenty of self doubt. Before I went vegan, whatever new story I tried to work on right after a successful project was doomed, inevitably: there was a ghost novel between the practice novel and Mary Modern, another two or three ghost novels between Mary Modern and Petty Magic, and yet another one afterward. It bugged the hell out of me, but I figured this was just the way things were. This was how my brain worked, right? Wasn't it just the nature of the creative cycle?Not at all! The past two years have been my most prolific by far. I've written two novels, one of which--a children's novel—I believe to be my best work. The other one, a new novel for adults (which I originally took for YA because the narrator is a teenager), is my agent's favorite out of everything I've written. I have never written two successful novels in as many years before. I have never transitioned so seamlessly from one project to the next and back again. (I began with the adult novel in June 2011, pressed pause to write the children's novel in early 2012, then returned to it at the end of last summer.)The ideas keep coming, and these days everything clicks. I have my Edinburgh novel to look forward to along with another adult novel I may end up writing first (I actually wrote the first 10,000 words while I was in India), more travel writing (travelogues! YES!), and more stories for children. I have never felt so inspired, and I know it's because I am striving to live with greater compassion and authenticity. And of course, on a physical level, I am thinking more clearly because I am no longer putting unnatural, disease-promoting substances in my body.Why shouldn't everyone feel this amazing? Why shouldn't you?* * *I was trying to think of a catchy title for this post, and when I thought of "The Heart is a Compass" some other part of my brain kept wanting to replace it with "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter." It's the title of a novel by Carson McCullers, which I remember as very finely written but relentlessly depressing. There is a piece of classic Yaddo gossip to do with McCullers crushing on Katherine Anne Porter, to the point where she literally curled up and fell asleep on the floor outside KAP's bedroom door, and from what I've read about her, McCullers had a rather short and not particularly happy life. I'm bringing all this up because that particular string of words, "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter," serves as a stark reminder that our thoughts really do create our reality. So here goes:My heart is never lonely.My heart is always full.
An afternoon ramble
As promised, a virtual walk on the Hawthornden demesne. (Gosh, I love that word. Don't get the opportunity to use it too often!)
This doorknocker is so old, it might fall off if you actually tried to use it!
"As we wend our way on the Hawthornden side of the bridge, always ascending, we gain some exquisite glimpses of Hawthornden Castle, perched on the edge of a steep cliff on our left. Advantage is taken of projecting rocks to get the best views possible of the river, flowing a hundred feet below us, and of the steep, well-wooded banks and rocks by which it is hemmed in, both above and below the castle. And there are some most charming spots among the grounds of Hawthornden. We feel that we are on classic ground. No wonder that the Poet Drummond loved it! No wonder that Sir Walter Scott went into ecstasies over it!"
When you come downhill towards the river there's a beautiful wood of birch trees, and the ground is carpeted with moss and these soft spiky green things. (Anyone know what they're called?)
We hope he loves her still.
(The castle is built on a little sandstone cliff, so when you are walking on the path beneath it there are plenty of rock formations to be seen.)
Drummond's Seat, overlooking woods and river. (I wonder if Drummond actually had it carved, or if the name is purely romantic.)
There is a very old tree downed in the path, the trunk cut so that there's still a narrow space to walk through. One day when it snowed I made the handprint on the right, and the next time I walked the loop I found someone had replied with the handprint on the left. (It took me like two weeks to remember to ask at the dinner table. It was Colin.)
One time I was sitting at the window up there (in the "summer library") and Melanie was walking down below, and we saw each other and waved. Another time I was walking and she was at her desk, and we waved. Little things like that gave me such pleasure.
The well-head outside the castle gate.
Back in the boot room (this is the view from the window), taking off coat and muddy footwear, shaking the cold out and looking forward to a nice hot cup of tea.
Housekeeping
(That is all. I'm switching from Google Reader and apparently I have to do this to link my blog on my profile.)
Happy Stitching
Some things I've been stitching since June Squam 2012:
A gift for Olivia, stitched in Jessica's class.
A few shots of Kate's birthday present, the angry rooster translated from Colombian graffiti, which I began in Rebecca's class: Dissolving the Sulky Solvy (the product you use to transfer the design).
A wedding gift for my cousin Jenni. She asked me to read this poem during the ceremony, so I thought it would be fun to stitch up my favorite lines, with alternating mirror-writing to add some visual interest.
Olivia really wanted to stitch, so I got her some yarn embroidery kits from Jo-Ann for her birthday. (She's six already!!!)
A mystery gift (lyrics! I bet you can guess the song.)
For Kelly and Jeff, with lots of ♥ from Mealey D. (See Cocktails & Calico and Musings from a Beginning Quilter; proper quilt post coming soon!)
Was and Is and Will Be
Seven years ago today, my agent made my first "real" book deal. I was in Ireland researching the Moon guide, so she had to call me at the hostel where I was staying in Connemara. Seven years ago today, the great dream of my childhood came true.
Who are you, once you get the one thing you really really want?
You have to grow into someone else—someone with an even bigger dream.
I know it doesn't look like I'm putting much thought or effort into my blog these days, so BOY will you be surprised when I finally show you what I've been working on. I'm growing, and it's an exhilarating but sometimes-painful process. Some important people in my life aren't going to like the direction I'm headed in, and that's okay. If I had to pick one piece of advice to live my life by, it would be this (from Richard Bach's Illusions):
New dreams are incubating. I'm really, really excited.
'This life I relish, and secure the next.'
Yeah, sorry, I fell off the map again. I was re-revising a novel (and now it's ready to go out!!!) More on that soon, hopefully.And now, without further ado: a proper Hawthornden post.
Hawthornden Castle was the home of the poet William Drummond (1585-1649). (You'd assume these lines are his, but they've actually been attributed to a poet called Young.) Drummond once invited Ben Jonson up for a visit, and he walked all the way from London! The poet laureate's visit is well documented. Apparently he wore out his welcome, but was happily oblivious to the fact that Drummond no longer considered him a friend. Yikes.Hawthornden is splendidly situated on a crag overlooking the River North Esk. The oldest part of the castle is a ruined tower that dates from the 15th century (there's now a small library housed in the ground floor); the greater part of the castle dates from the 17th century, when William Drummond's father acquired it. Thanks to Mrs. Heinz, it's been a writers' retreat since the early 1980s. Residencies last four weeks, and there are six writers there at a time. Hamish, the administrator, is effectively the host, making sure everything (from the ink cartridges in the printer to the happy vegan food on my plate) runs smoothly.
I can't possibly overstate what this residency meant to me. I needed the time, I needed the space, I needed the solitude and the glorious communion with nature, and I got all this "in spades" by the grace of Mrs. Heinz and the Hawthornden admissions panel. They gave me the chance to make my own magic.
The week before my residency began I also thanked William Drummond "in person." This portrait is on display at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery in Edinburgh.Considering the following item on the application form, I hadn't expected to dine like a queen (and hey, I would have been totally cool with eating only boiled vegetables for dinner, for an opportunity like this!)... 
...so I was delighted to find that the household staff had stocked the fridge with soy mince crumbles, soy cheese and almond milk for my arrival. (I get teary just thinking about it. THEY ARE SO AWESOME.) Ally is a fantastic chef--he cooked amazing vegan versions of every dinner for me: "shepherd's pie," veggie risotto, DIVINE curry, and so on. I always got dessert, too--fresh fruit and lemon sorbet or mango or chocolate soy yogurt. So I ate like a queen after all.I found the castle cozy, not spooky at all, and my fellows were absolutely lovely. I'd said to myself as I was looking ahead to the residency, "everyone there WILL be nice and friendly," and they totally were. I even got to connect with Kirsty (@kirstylogan) ahead of time on Twitter.(Oh, and I was the only American, which was very fun.)
Here was my favorite spot to read and dream--the "summer library" off the drawing room, with a gorgeous view over the ravine. It's cold in there, so I brought in a blanket, hat and scarf and got cozy on the window seat. I loved to come down again around 4:30 and watch the dusk settle over the valley. The trees in that ravine are the most majestic living things I have ever seen (and I have seen sequoias!)
I would get up around 9 and come down for breakfast (porridge with brown sugar and almond or coconut milk, wheat bread with sunflower spread, coffee and orange juice). Tendai and Helena are early (or at least earlier) risers, but I pretty much always got to have breakfast with Melanie, Kirsty, and Colin. I could never manage to get myself up earlier so I could meditate first thing, so I'd come back up to my room and take my twenty minutes of quiet time before I began to work.Oh, and speaking of quiet time--there is absolutely no internet at the castle, so you'd pretty much have to walk to the nearest public library (or the Rosslyn Chapel cafe, which has WiFi) if you wanted to get online. I didn't use the internet for TWO WHOLE WEEKS and it was amazing how much I enjoyed the breather. So much less noise in my head, you know?I reread and I cut and I re-outlined. I wrote HARD and it was so, so satisfying. I didn't really give myself any days off, and yet I always felt totally rested.
Lunch arrived in a Fortnum & Mason basket: some sort of delicious vegetable soup (like pea and mint, lentil, or tomato basil), a peanut butter sandwich on seeded wheat bread, and carrot sticks with hummus. (That's just what I wanted every day--you can order pretty much whatever you want for a sandwich and fruit.) On extra-specially lucky days I got soy cheese cut into sticks! (Mary and Georgina, I love you!)
The 17th-century wellhead just outside the castle gate.I always went for an afternoon walk (saving my peanut butter sandwich to have with tea afterward), though the break time and length depended on how the work was going that day. Most of the time I just did the fifteen-minute loop below the castle because I was anxious to get back to my desk. I went on longer walks in the last two weeks, once I knew I'd be making my goal for the residency (i.e., finishing the draft).In the evenings before dinner, I practiced yoga either with Melanie in the drawing room or on my own in my bedroom. (I'm doing yoga every day now. I feel my arm muscles getting stronger, and I'm more flexible than ever.)We came down for dinner at 7pm, and could always expect a lively conversation along with the meal. (There's a separate dining room for Sundays, with a proper fire in the grate. There used to be open fires in every room, but the fire department nixed that practice.)After dessert Hamish would say, "Shall we go upstairs?" and we'd spend an hour or two in the drawing room chatting, playing a board game, or reading in companionable silence. Then, before bedtime, I might take a nice long soak in the enormous old bathtub on the writers' floor (which, interestingly, was built for servants' quarters in the 19th century).
Two of our Sundays at Hawthornden Kirsty, Melanie, and I (plus Colin the first Sunday) attended Sunday service at Rosslyn Chapel (for the architecture, history, and atmosphere, I assure you), then walked back to the castle (Hamish dropped us off). I have photos from the first time I visited the chapel back in February 2011 that I never got around to blogging, so I'll tell you more in a future post. I snapped these icicles as we were walking home.
Mint in the library conservatory.
Drummond was engaged to a young, beautiful and accomplished lady, daughter of Cunninghame of Barnes. The day was fixed for the wedding. She died on its very eve. Such a blow to a tender and loving heart must have been terrible in the extreme. We need not wonder that the disconsolate and bereaved bridegroom left Hawthornden for some years, and travelled to distant climes and amid other scenes...
I browsed through this book. I know you will find this difficult to believe, but it is not as interesting as it looks.According to Reverend Thompson, the well in the courtyard is more than fifty feet deep ('with about 4 ft. of water when I measured it on 31st March, 1892.') Two views, from above...
...and below. (Taken on our tour of the caves and dungeon.)
(An excerpt from Susanna MacIver's Cookery and Pastry, 1789. Once I was finished with my rewrite I got to read interesting old books as research for my NEW novel.)
In the last days of our residency I joked about locking myself in Colin's humongous wardrobe so I wouldn't have to leave. Kirsty made each of us flash fiction zines as a going-away gift. We passed many contented evenings in this drawing room! (Also, each night of our last week, one of us would read from our work in progress. That was such a treat.)
It feels so dramatic to write a shipwreck with rain staticking & wind screaming down the chimney. Hawthornden, how will I write without you?-- Kirsty Logan (@kirstylogan) January 31, 2013
There are so many things I'm leaving out--weird things, wonderful things, things I'm not able to put words around just yet. It really was a magical period in my life, and I'll always be grateful to everyone at Hawthornden for that gift.
I have even more photos I want to share with you, so there will be another post (a "virtual castle walk") after this one!Also, if you are interested in applying to Hawthornden (snail mail only, annual deadline June 30th), leave me a comment with your email address and I'll get back to you with the details. (You could phone or write, the contact details are online, but they do have an email address.)* * *Previous Hawthornden posts:
Flashwrite #10: Make Your Own Ecstasy
The most accurate (and inspiring) definition of the word "ecstasy"...
ecstasy = ek + stasis = 'standing outside oneself'
...snow and more snow, and a bit of reflection on our four-week residency at beautiful Hawthornden Castle with my new friend Tendai Huchu, author of The Hairdresser of Harare. I read a short excerpt from The Essential Donne (now out of print), edited by Amy Clampitt. Proper entry on my Hawthornden experience coming soon!* * *(All Flashwrite episodes here.)
"First I was born; and now this."
(That's my favorite entry in the Hawthornden leaving book.)
I love Mrs. Heinz's bookplate. (Mrs. Heinz is our benefactress.)
The castle courtyard.
My primary workspace.
Two of the four Sundays Kirsty, Melanie and I went to the Rosslyn Chapel and walked home in the snow.
See that gable to the left of the turret? That was my room.
The old Rosslyn Castle station platform.
Down in the dungeon. Hamish looks tempted to lock me in.More soon (including a new video on Monday!)
Productivity Forecast
Me: My goal for Hawthornden is 100 pages.Mumsy: Sounds do-able.Me: In a month of no internet? Definitely.Mumsy: Then why not make it 200?
GULP.
The free one always tastes the best.Happy New Year! I'm in Edinburgh until Sunday, when I head out to Hawthornden for my four-week residency. I can't tell you how relieved I am to be here, and how excited and grateful I feel to have this opportunity!Contrary to plan, I won't be working on the new novel, although I am still doing research for it at the National Library this week. Instead I'll be revising (and greatly expanding) the novel I "finished" back in August. I hadn't really expected anything to come of it, but it turns out the book is much better than I judged it. So I can't really feel disappointed at not being able to throw myself into the new book when I've gotten so much lovely praise and thorough suggestions on this one!Actually, I've heard it said that you get the most out of a residency when you're already waist-deep in a project, and that makes sense. I might end up having a more productive month revising than I would have scratching out the first few chapters of a brand-new book. So I'm taking it as a sign that the new novel needs more time to marinate.How does one squeeze every last drop of potential out of four weeks of perfect freedom? Here's a contradiction for you: I expect that my productivity level will be inversely proportional to the amount of energy I expend worrying over said productivity. When I spend the earliest minutes of the morning clearing my mind of whatever psychic gunk might be left over from the day before, I've made space for new ideas to take root. Oftentimes "doing nothing" is way more fruitful than a determination to meet unrealistic or irrelevant goals.In other words...no word counts!Things I want to try this time around:1. Writing longhand as much as possible. I've printed out the manuscript, and I want to rearrange it the old-fashioned way, with new scenes on looseleaf paper. (Yup. Definitely no word counting.)2. Surfacing out of sleep much more slowly, and scribbling down even the least coherent fragments of dreams before I stretch or meditate or take a drink of water. The more I recognize this as an intuitive process, the "easier" it seems to flow for me.3. This might sound contradictory given what I wrote above, but: sticking to a schedule. Mornings and early afternoons are for writing and revising, late afternoons for reading. I used to think I worked best late at night, but nowadays I don't think the time of day matters in the slightest. I just like the feeling of putting in a good day's writing before noon. I'm not sure where daily exercise will fit in, but I'll figure that out.No need for Mac Freedom this time--there's no internet access at Hawthornden, period.I'll be back in February. Wish me luck!p.s.--Comments are switched off on this and all other entries on the front page of the blog, simply because I can't keep up with the spam while I'm away. (Believe me, I've tried every plug-in and filter. Obviously Movable Type isn't working for me, so I'll be switching to Wordpress in the near future.)p.p.s.--This lovely Hawthornden recap from Vanessa Gebbie has me even MORE excited!
Butternut "bisque" with sage and cumin
When life gets crazy, blogging is the first thing to go--and Flashwrite too, alas. Scotland is coming up soon, and then I have BIG plans for this space.(Big, big plans! Redesign, relaunch, and MORE!)But for now, here's a recipe I've been meaning to blog since before Thanksgiving. I kept eating it up before I got around to taking a picture.
Trying out this tasty recipe, it occurred to me that a bisque of butternut squash with almond milk instead of cream would be comfortingly delicious. I tried it, and it was. Here's the super-easy vegan recipe:
3 lb. butternut squash, cut into pieces (I bought it pre-cut, but if you purchase a whole squash, cut it in half and roast until soft)one onion, diced1/4 cup olive oil2 cloves garlic1 tbsp. dried ground cumina dozen large sage leaves, finely chopped2 cups broth made from vegetable bouillon (I like Better Than Bouillon)2 cups almond milksalt and pepper to taste
Toss the squash and onion with olive oil, garlic, cumin, salt and pepper in a glass baking dish and roast at 425º at least an hour. Midway through, open the oven and stir in chopped sage leaves. Once cooled, mash it all together and pour into blender or food processor along with vegetable broth and almond milk and puree. (Or you could pour everything together into the pot and just use an immersion blender.) Yields approximately six generous servings.Happy Holidays, everyone!
Young Writers, part 2
It's never too early to encourage a child to write.(I'd post a screenshot of her first story, but I know she'd hate me for it later, and rightfully so.)
Flashwrite #9: Who Cares?
The first thing I ask myself when I come up with a new story idea is, "Who cares?" Is this story bigger than I am? Will I be able to tap into something universal, or am I just indulging myself?
Notes:This week's episode is about telling a story that matters. I don't have much in the way of notes for this one, although I did touch on something tangential in this blog post: Be Remarkable.Where does memoir fit in to all this? A good memoir, too, is bigger than the one who writes it. You know I'm a huge fan of Bird By Bird, which is the absolute best example I can think of; there's a ton of personal experience in that book (no holds barred, as they say--Anne Lamott even tells you she snorted cocaine like an anteater), but it's all in service of the greater point. Through memoir, the author helps people develop their own writing practice...and get comfortable with their writerly neuroses (as she herself so clearly has).* * *Transcript:The first thing I ask myself when I come up with a new story idea is, "Who cares?" Is this story bigger than I am? Will I be able to tap into something universal, or am I just indulging myself?By now you know that I believe everyone should write; however, not all writing is art. Some writing is catharsis, and that's a beautiful thing, a necessary thing; and some writing we can classify as "a good start"; and some writing, frankly, is not going to amount to much more than it already is, and that's fine too. But it's not art.I want to talk a little bit about the universal cliché of writing, which is "write what you know." What I'm saying is, you can write what you know, but don't write it exactly [as] you know it. It's got to go through the crucible. Take all of your raw material and put it through the metaphorical crucible, and what comes out will be so much bigger than the initial vision that you had for your story.So that's the question I'd like you to ask yourself this week--"who cares?" And I don't mean that in a scoffing or negative way; if you ask yourself this question, hopefully your mind will explode afterward with really wonderful tangential ideas, and you're going to start fleshing things out, and that's great. But if you get the little nagging feeling that maybe this story falls into the navel-gazing category, it's a good question to ask yourself because then you'll know. I have met several writers who are working on manuscripts that are probably never going to be published (in fact, they're definitely never going to be published) because they're writing things that haven't been through the crucible. They haven't translated this story into something that is bigger than themselves.By now you're probably wondering if I have an example I can give you. I want to talk to you again a little bit about my first novel, Mary Modern, which came out in 2007. The thing about this book is that I wouldn't have written it if my grandmother hadn't died, and the book is about a scientist who clones her grandmother. So I could have (and I'm sure I did) sat down and wrote a story about a girl who loses her grandmother, and cries and cries, and feels really rotten, et cetera. That's not art, that's catharsis. What I was able to do with this book--or hope I was able to do--is turn my private grief into something [more], so that anyone can read this book and feel what these characters are feeling. And that is art. So that's what I'm talking about.For this week, I'd like you to build on Flashwrite #7, the mind-mapping exercise. Why not try this with a particular story idea, and apply the question of "who cares?" See where that takes you. Keep asking yourself these kind of "tough love" questions, because your story will be so much richer for it, and so much more worth writing and more worth reading.* * *(All Flashwrite episodes here.)
Letter to a Reluctant Traveler
When I was nineteen, I had the opportunity to write for a travel guide called Hanging Out in Ireland. It was going to be my job for the summer: to travel for five weeks around the southern half of the island, taking notes on every castle, restaurant, hostel and pub, then come home and write 100,000 words. I was elated, and I was terrified. My mother felt all the terror and none of the elation. She said, "Can't you get an office job?"
Out for a day in Donegal with my Cavan cousins on a solo trip to Ireland, 2001.
Dear Friend,When I was nineteen, I had the opportunity to write for a travel guide called Hanging Out in Ireland. It was going to be my job for the summer: to travel for five weeks around the southern half of the island, taking notes on every castle, restaurant, hostel and pub, then come home and write 100,000 words. I was elated, and I was terrified. My mother felt all the terror and none of the elation. She said, "Can't you get an office job?"If I had listened to my mother, my life would have taken an entirely different turn, so I am grateful I had the good sense not to. I breathed through the anxiety. I packed my passport and boarded the plane. I spent the first couple days bumbling around Counties Kildare and Wicklow feeling completely lost and lonely and incompetent. I remember my first night, in a hotel in Kildare town--what the hell was I even doing in Kildare town?--sleeping off my jet lag only to find myself wide awake in the middle of the night. I trembled with indignation when I overheard a night porter telling his friend that I was "some stupid feckin' American asking questions." I watched Angelina Jolie in a TV movie on a little television mounted to the ceiling. I'm pretty sure I cried myself to sleep.Eventually I found my footing. I started talking to people--nice people--I began to smile again, I took copious notes, I had lots and lots of adventures. I stood on clifftops, trod reverently through the ruins of monasteries, listened to exuberant traditional music sessions in crowded pubs, walked "home" at 2AM under a dome of stars and thanked God for my existence. That summer I had my first real taste of independence (and Guinness, and banoffee pie, and sticky toffee pudding). I grew into myself.I would love for you to have that sort of experience too, whether it's your first sleep-away camp or a year-long round-the-world backpacking trip. Wherever you are longing to go, you owe it to yourself to go there. If it scares you, that's how you know you HAVE to do it. Don't settle into routines, don't satisfy yourself with the friends you already have; spend too much time together and eventually you will find there is nothing left to say. It's so much nicer to go away--do lots of fun things on your own, think your own thoughts--then come home again and catch up properly. You will change, but hopefully they will love you all the more for it.Learn to enjoy moving through the world on your own. Solitude isn't an absence, it's a gift. You'll get used to walking into a restaurant and asking for a table for one; after the first couple times it won't feel so awkward. You are learning not to care what others think of you, and that they almost certainly aren't thinking or talking about you anyhow. Resist the impulse to grab a small pizza and a bottle of orange soda and pass the dinner hour on the floor of your hostel dormitory. If someone smiles at you, or makes a funny remark in passing, don't let it be in passing. Act on each and every hint of companionship, no matter how glancing. That girl assigned the upper bunk might be hoping to find a friend in you, too.Live your life like it's a Choose Your Own Adventure novel (where this analogy falls short is, you're the reader and the writer). No one else can live this life for you, and don't listen to anyone who thinks they know how you should live it. Trust your instincts and be willing to make a fool of yourself. You can't grow if you never make a mistake.So what do you mean, you don't have a passport? GET ON IT! And wherever you go, if you think of it, send me a postcard.love,Camille.
Flashwrite #8: Getting Great Ideas
Where do great story ideas come from? Now, this is always going to be a mysterious process to a great extent, because your subconscious mind is doing most of the heavy lifting here. But I think we can boil it down to two factors, and it will help if we focus on these two: curiosity and time. As a writer, you must be a master observer of human nature, and of nature in general. So you must develop an insatiable curiosity about the world around you. It's absolutely essential.
Notes:Better views of the Mary Modern cover and my great-grandparents' engagement portrait:
(The paperback edition includes an essay on how I came to write the novel.)Check out my Ideas series from last year, part 1 in particular:
--Ideas, part 1: Fill 'er Up--Ideas, part 2: Keeping Organized--Ideas, part 3: Using Them
And as I wrote in Said and Unsaid, perfect strangers can unwittingly give you priceless bits of dialogue. Keep your eyes and ears open at all times!
"Curiosity about life in all of its aspects, I think, is still the secret of great creative people." Hell yes, Leo Burnett.-- Sarah P. Miller (@SarahPMiller) November 16, 2012
Transcript:Where do great story ideas come from? Now, this is always going to be a mysterious process to a great extent, because your subconscious mind is doing most of the heavy lifting here. But I think we can boil it down to two factors, and it will help if we focus on these two: curiosity and time. As a writer, you must be a master observer of human nature, and of nature in general. So you must develop an insatiable curiosity about the world around you. It's absolutely essential.Play the "what if?" game with yourself. That's a very basic technique that you can use. I actually want to talk to you a little bit about how I used the "what if?" game, and how that worked out for me. I was working on what would become my first published novel, and I looked at this picture--this is the engagement portrait of my great-grandparents--and I played the "what if?" game. I said to myself, "What if Anna and I could sit down and have a cup of tea together, and have a conversation for an hour or so. What would we have to say to each other?" And this book is what came out of it--this is my first novel, it's called Mary Modern, and it all came out of this picture. So you see the "what if?" game is pretty powerful stuff if you keep following the breadcrumb trail, as it were.The next thing I have to say about curiosity is that art inspires art. Go to museums. Go out into the world. Find beautiful things--and maybe not-beautiful things!--things that interest you, things that fascinate you, things that make you enthusiastic about life, and write it down. As I said in Flashwrite #1, your journal should be your constant companion. Observe, record, ponder, and let it marinate. Give your subconscious mind lots and lots of good stuff to work with. This is filling up.And this is where time comes in. You need to give your subconscious mind time to process everything. I'm thinking of an analogy here: if food is your observations, then your mind is the stove. So if you're going to cook dinner, you just need to get your ingredients and put them in the pot, and let it simmer. It's going to take time. Please don't get upset if you haven't come up with your one brilliant idea that's going to set the world on fire. You may very well come up with that brilliant idea that's going to set the world on fire, but you can't rush the process. You have to go easy on yourself. Be gentle. Don't feel like you have to rush, and come up with this great idea with your conscious mind, because it's not going to happen with your conscious mind. This is such a subconscious process. Have fun with it. As I said, fun is everything. We wouldn't do this if it weren't fun.Your suggested exercise: you've got your journal, right? Without leaving the room in which you're watching this video, I want you to find an object somewhere in the room and play the "what if?" game with it. Think about where it came from, think about who made it. If it's a picture on the wall, imagine a conversation. Think about the possibilities. Spend five or ten minutes writing in your journal. "What if such-and-such happened?" What if I met my great-grandmother for tea? What would we say to each other? It's really, really fun. So enjoy the process.* * *Next week's episode: telling a story that matters.(All Flashwrite episodes here.)
Flashwrite #7: Mapping the Mind
Notes:Ecosystem notebooks, an alternative to the Moleskine notebooks I recommend in Flashwrite #1. I forgot to mention they're also made from recycled paper! What's not to love? Thank you, Amiee!A bit more on mind mapping in Ideas, part 2.If you're interested in any of the things I riffed on in my mind map, here are some links:
- "Improbable Frequency" here and here.
- Harry Clarke here and here and here.
- The Kerry Way.
- Mike McCormack's "The Stained Glass Violations" is part of his story collection, Getting It In the Head. Also, his Facebook page.
- Lord Dunsany.
- A haunted Irish castle.
- The Midnight Court by Brian Merriman.
Mind mapping at Yaddo, April 2010.Transcript:Hello! You're strapped to my dining room chandelier!Before I get started with the mind mapping technique, I want to tell you about this alternative to the Moleskine journal--it looks like a Moleskine, but it's produced by a company called Ecosystem (a trademark of Sterling Publishing Company, which I think is affiliated with Barnes & Noble--?), and you can get this at Barnes & Noble for a dollar less than the Moleskine. It's got all of the same cool features, but it's made in the USA with soy inks. It's the perfect alternative [as I mentioned in Flashwrite #1, Moleskine journals are manufactured in China.] This was a birthday gift from my lovely friend Amiee. Thank you so much for this, Amiee--it's a great idea.Now I'm ready to talk about the mind mapping technique! I'll briefly show you some examples here--I use them for fleshing out story ideas. I begin in the center with my tentative title, and then I splash out and start to connect my ideas. It's a wonderful story development technique. I use newsprint, 18 by 24 inches--the bigger the piece of paper, the better. You don't need to spend ten bucks on a newsprint pad; you can use an old piece of posterboard left over from middle school art projects, any kind of scrap paper, it just has to be a big piece of paper. Don't try to do this on a regular piece of looseleaf paper because you're not going to be able to splash out the way you ideally would with a larger piece of paper.I'm going to show you a story idea I'm fleshing out myself for the first time, in real time, so you can see for yourself just what a marvelous technique this is. It's so versatile--you can actually ask yourself a question, if you're feeling confused (it doesn't have to be "about" anything), you can write yourself a question and then sprout out from there, and answer the question for yourself, and you'll be amazed at what kind of answers you come up with. It's a really surprising and versatile technique. I recommend it for any time you need to get answers, whether it's about a particular story you're trying to flesh out, or just general life confusion-existential crisis-et cetera, et cetera. It's pretty awesome. (It has worked for me in that capacity, so I can vouch for that.)In general, when your ideas start to take shape and connect with each other, this wonderful feeling happens: you start to see that your mind is this gorgeously intricate tapestry of ideas. The chaos becomes art. That's what I love best about this--that's what I'm getting at here.So I'm going to set my alarm for four minutes, because I think I can give you a good sense of how this technique works in only four minutes. Here we go. So this story is actually not a novel this time, it's a travelogue--an Ireland travelogue. The point of this is that I'm getting away from the Lucky Charms, the golf courses, the Guinness Brewery, the Blarney Stone yada yada. There's so much more to Irish culture than what people in America (and elsewhere in the world) see it as; for me this is encapsulated by this line, Where the f*** is Glocca Morra?, from this musical called Improbable Frequency that I just love. So that's where I'm starting off with this.The first thing I can think of, the first essay, is about stained glass. Specifically the stained glass of Harry Clarke. I need to make some notes for myself: I need to go to the Crawford Gallery in Cork and the National Library in Dublin. So those are some research notes. I also want to make reference to my old teacher, Mike McCormack, who is an amazing writer. I might use his story, "The Stained Glass Violations," for an epigraph. (In that story, a woman literally eats stained glass.) What else? I want to write about "obscure" Irish writers. See? I'm making this connection. [Mike is] not obscure, but what I'm saying is, anyone who is not Yeats or Joyce or Wilde.Oh! I will be doing some sort of long-distance walking trip. Possibly the Kerry Way.Ooh! Here's one. Lord Dunsany. [Connecting line to 'obscure Irish writers.'] I want to read him, I haven't read him yet. Ooh! And here's another thing: I want to do a tour of haunted Irish castles. I don't know if Lord Dunsany's castle is haunted [connecting line between 'haunted castles' and 'Lord Dunsany'], but I can definitely visit, and we'll see what happens.What else? I can talk about the Irish language. Here's a note: Padraig, my teacher at NYU in my Irish Studies course--go to the Donegal summer school where he teaches? We can connect this [Irish language] with this [obscure Irish writers.] Oh! The Midnight Court, I might want to touch on that, for an epigraph or otherwise. That is an Irish-language poem by Brian Merriman. So this is a really good start, actually. [Four-minute alarm goes off.] Perfect timing.So you can see how I begin--and I'll start fleshing it in after this. But this is where it begins. Obviously I took down a few notes [beforehand] in my regular journal, but it makes all the difference to see it spread out like a map. This is your road map for your project, and it becomes a sacred document. It's beautiful. It's a really inspiring technique. It fires you up to write whatever it is you're fleshing out here.Our exercise for this time is, of course, do your own mind map! I would love to see your results. If you want to leave me a comment and let me know how this worked for you, what kind of paper you used (did you take a big piece of brown paper that came in a package from the post office, or did you use a big piece of posterboard left over from middle school art class, whatever), and tell me how this worked for you. Tell me how you felt when you started to see these connections being made. I hope I've sufficiently communicated my enthusiasm for this technique!--and I hope you enjoy it. As you can see, I love this. I absolutely love this.Thank you so much for watching, and let me know if you have any comments or questions.[A brief clip from "How Are Things in Glocca Morra?" The version I used is Jeannie Carson's on The Irish Album.]
@pettymagic the product of time spent in your saturday class - thanks to it, i may actually finish Nanowrimo this year twitter.com/LittlestFinch/...-- Finch (Alexandra) (@LittlestFinch) October 26, 2012
Scotland 2013
My aforementioned good news is that I've received a monthlong fellowship at Hawthornden, a writers' retreat in a castle outside Edinburgh. I'm leaving just after New Years. This is an amazing opportunity in and of itself (big thanks to Nova and Rachel for telling me about it in the first place, and to Ann and Sally for writing me such splendid recommendations!), but there's an additional layer of awesomeness to this gift, since my new novel is set in Edinburgh. I feel doubly (triply, quadruply...quadruply??) blessed. I want to wring the inspiration, the possibility out of every single moment, waking AND sleeping.
You know I love my research, so naturally I've been reading about the Scottish Enlightenment and the history of Edinburgh in general. (You'll get a glimpse inside my project "binder" when I post a Scrivener how-to as part of my Flashwrite series--that's coming up in January.) I thought I'd post some appreciation photos of an old book I found at the Strand last holiday season, George Scott-Moncrieff's Edinburgh, published in London in 1947. (I'm only "starting" it now, but this novel took up residence in my head at least two years ago.)
Mappy endpapers!
What better reason for writing a book than to honor your lost loved ones?
A map of the city, 1647.
"With love and good wishes for a Merry Christmas and a happy 1949."* * *Previous exploits in and around Edinburgh: Enchanted Scotland, part 4; My Kind of Church; New Lanark; Adventures in Glasgow.
Flashwrite #6: Advice for Young Writers
Notes:I had plenty more to say on each of these points, but I thought I'd keep it short and sweet. Here's a beloved book that has "mentored" me, and I'll be blogging more soon about my own formative adventures. This episode was inspired by Brian's blog post for his son Ty on the occasion of his departure for college (you can see the seeds of this video in the comment I left), Ellie and Maddy (whom I had the great privilege of knowing in my library writing workshop), and the boys at St. Lawrence (especially Kaspar, who took the time to drop me a note last week).Write an email to your future self at Futureme.org. It will be delivered to your inbox at whatever point in time you choose.* * *Transcript:
I'd like to offer some advice for young writers (and by "young writers," I mean writers of all ages, but this advice is especially for teens and college students).1. It's pretty obvious, but I think it warrants repeating: read voraciously! Let your favorite books be your greatest teachers. Find out who your favorite authors are, and consider them your mentors.2. Go out into the world and have as many adventures as you can, as early as you can. Conquer your fear and do it anyway. Getting out of your comfort zone is huge (and it's a big part of growing up in general). The great thing about going out and having adventures is, not only are you having that wonderful experience and enjoying yourself tremendously, but as a writer, you'll be accumulating a rich store of experience that you can draw from later on.3. This is the most important. Don't listen to anyone who tells you to be realistic. Don't listen to them! Something happens in the course of some people's lives, where they look at other people who are going after their dreams, and they get petty, they get jealous—because you, as someone who is going after your dream, are reminding them that they're not going after theirs. Obviously that's their problem, not yours. So be brave! Go after it. Do it. Don't worry about what anybody says. Don't listen to the naysayers. Don't listen to anyone who would really prefer that you kept yourself small so that they don't have to feel bad for not going after their dreams.For this time, I have a really fun exercise: if you go to Futureme.org, you can write a letter to your future self, and it will be emailed to you at any point in the future that you designate. It could be a year, or up to fifty or (I think) sixty years. So go there, write yourself an email, and talk about your dreams. Ask your future self, have I achieved this? Think about all of the things that you might not even conceive of right now, wonderful things that will happen in your future. I think that you will be amazed when that email comes back to you in ten years' time, twenty years' time (or whatever amount of time you designate)—I think you'll be surprised at how many of your dreams have come true. It's pretty awesome. (I haven't tried it yet, but I'm really excited to do it.) That tip came to me from my friend Elizabeth: Futureme.org, your suggested exercise for this week.So go for it, be brave, and thank you for watching!* * *Next week I'll be showing you how to "mind map." Really jazzed for that one!(All Flashwrite entries here.)
Flashwrite #5: Typing or Longhand?
Notes:My blog post on outlining and "prewriting" includes a screenshot of a "chapter flow" I composed longhand and finessed on the computer. I wrote a bit about how I use my favorite word processing and organizational program, Scrivener, here. More about Scrivener soon.Longhand love:
Process, part 1.Process, part 2.Scribbling Away in Cartagena.The Story of a Notebook (which I finished a few weeks ago—end of an era!)
Transcript:Today I want to talk about an age-old question, and that is: typing or longhand? My answer to that is, why not typing and longhand? I'm a best-of-both kind of writer for sure. I think there's this notion that many of us have that writing longhand is a more organic, more authentic, more "writerly" process. And it's true that if you look back over your own handwriting, all the notes that you've made and the connections you've made on paper, you've got a record of it--it is a much more intimate process in that respect. On the other hand, I know that—if you think back on all of the great writers of the past, had they had this technology available to them, if Shakespeare could have written on a laptop, do you think he would have? I think he would have! And it's true that a lot of us can type a lot faster than we can write, right?So I don't think it's an either-or proposition. I think you need to experiment and see what works best for you. For me personally, I like to do my prewriting and my planning, I like that to be a solely longhand process. Then when I've got to the point where I have my outline and I'm ready to go, I will transition to the laptop. I use a word processing program called Scrivener, which I'll talk about in an upcoming episode—how it's worlds, worlds, worlds better than Word. (Don't get me started on Word! Anyway...) I wanted to show you these little composition notebooks that I picked up when I was in Ireland several years ago. On a recent trip to Colombia (well, it was not that recent--it was back in January and February 2012 and I'm recording in November, but anyway) I ended up writing the bulk of my new novel in these notebooks in cafes in Cartagena and elsewhere in Colombia. It was marvelous. It was really, really lovely to feel so connected to my words. Also, there's the benefit of no internet access, no distractions, so that concentrated my mind wonderfully. So this is really cool—I really enjoy writing longhand. But as I said, I can type a lot faster than I can write, and so, when I get into it, I'm really into the typing.So see what works for you. Like I said, don't think it needs to be an either-or proposition. So my suggested exercise for this time is, if you're mostly the kind of writer who types up your notes from the very beginning in a Word document--why not try it longhand? Looseleaf paper, or a notebook, or I like to use index cards and also Rolodex cards (and I can talk about that in an upcoming episode as well). Switch it up. And if you are someone who writes only longhand, in your journal, why not try composing on your laptop for a change? So that's my suggested exercise--five or ten minutes, fifteen minutes, switch it up. See how you feel, see how it makes you feel. I think either way can be a really intuitive process, you can feel "in the zone" either way. So try that, see how it works--typing and longhand, not typing or longhand. So thanks for watching!* * *How about you? Do you like having a handwritten record of your progress, do you prefer the efficiency of your laptop, or do you use both methods? (All Flashwrite episodes here.)