Category: The Art of Getting Stared At

This Writing Gig . . . It’s Complicated

complicatedThere was a visual posted on Facebook last week. You know the kind – some of them are funny, others are motivational, a few are designed to drag you out of your writing cave to comment. This was one of the latter. It was a quote by Kurt Vonnegut and it read:

“Swoopers write a story quickly, higgledy-piggledy, crinkum-crankum, any which way. Then they go over it again painstakingly, fixing everything that is just plain awful or doesn’t work. Bashers go one sentence at a time, getting it exactly right before they go on to the next. When they’re done, they’re done.”

People commented, declaring themselves in one camp or another, either a swooper or a basher. I came to the party a day or so late, and without much time to spare, but I quickly popped in to declare myself a swoopsher.   Tongue in cheek? Not really.

Honestly, I’m a hybrid. I pretty much write both ways.

I wrote Exit Point and Hot New Thing in one quick spurt, not really stopping until I had that first draft done.  Only then did I go back to revise.  I swooped out the first three or four chapters of The Art of getting Stared At too and I was on a real roll, only to slow down and bash out a good part of the middle before I did a little swoop-bashing at the end.

For me, it varies book by book. Deadline by deadline.  And by what’s going on in my life at the time.   My writing process is exceptionally fluid. That’s not a good thing or bad thing. It’s simply my thing. It is the way it is. More important than my actual process, is my acceptance of it. Though it would be nice to fall firmly in one camp or another, if I get down on myself because I don’t, or if I try to force myself into taking an approach that doesn’t feel right, I am doomed.

My  name is Laura. I’m a swoopsher. And I’m okay with that.

 

October Happenings

littleblackdressTomorrow, I’m heading across the pond to Vancouver where I’ll be joining a number of other authors at a BCTLA gala. Given the prolonged BC teachers’ strike, there was some doubt as to whether the BC Teachers and Librarians would hold their annual conference this year, but the event is going ahead and Thursday’s dinner is being held at Granville Island. It’s a lovely opportunity for me to put on my LBD, slip into some heels, and come out of my cave for a bit of socializing.  And if the opportunity presents itself, naturally I’ll be talking up The Art of Getting Stared At as well as Hot New Thing. 

Should I feel inclined, there are a number of other ‘bookish’ events happening in Vancouver at the same time. There’s the Vancouver Writers’ Festival   https://www.writersfest.bc.ca/  also being held at Granville Island October 21- October 26. Organizers have put together a great line up with something for everyone including a much anticipated appearance by Ann-Marie MacDonald which has people buzzing.

Out in Surrey, the acclaimed Surrey International Writers’ Conference will be underway y.  http://www.siwc.ca/   Given the high calibre of writers, editors and agents who present, I’ve wanted to attend this event for years. Maybe this time I’ll actually make it!

But – there’s also a new exhibit about China’s Forbidden City opening at the Vancouver Art Gallery.  http://www.vanartgallery.bc.ca/the_exhibitions/exhibit_forbiddencity.html   It’s calling out to me.

I suspect the next few days will be busy ones! chinaforbiddenCity

Perceptions: You Gotta Love ‘Em

perceptionI’ve been thinking about perceptions a lot lately. For one, reviews are rolling in for The Art of Getting Stared At. On the whole, they’ve been overwhelmingly positive, which I’m very happy about.  What’s really interesting to me, though, is how widely divergent opinions can be on a single character or event. Most readers have found Sloane, the protagonist, well-rounded. They enjoyed watching her character grow and change. But a few readers had the opposite reaction. Sloane, they said, didn’t resonate with them. She felt flat. They didn’t see what the other readers saw.

Who’s right?  As the author, I could (and probably should) side with Sloane, the character I created and grew to love over the writing of the story. But truth isn’t always straightforward.  In reality, all readers are right. Because they bring themselves to the page and read through their own filters, they take what they need, want or expect from every experience.

At a recent retreat, a writer was describing an assignment she did for a professor years earlier. She presented a painting to a dozen or so people and recorded their thoughts about what the artist was trying to convey in the piece. As expected, interpretations were all over the board. Everyone had a different opinion.  She wrote up her findings, and was incredibly pleased with how the assignment turned out. The professor’s perception was less than stellar; she got a C for her efforts.  Too bad. The professor in the room across the hall might have given her an A.

Perceptions. You’ve gotta love ‘em. Even if you don’t always agree with them.

In Case You Missed It

I’m heading into a retreat later this week. Between that and the fact that it’s release week and I’ve been touring other blogs lately, my time and attention are both short.

So for those who didn’t already see it on Facebook or Twitter, I leave you with a look at the book trailer Razorbill produced for The Art of Getting Stared At:

And a look at what I had to say on the Chapter by Chapter blog site:

http://www.chapter-by-chapter.com/blog-tour-the-art-of-getting-stared-at-by-laura-langston-review/

 

Have a good week everybody!

Reading Preferences Showed Early

sue-barton-senior-nurseOver the last week, I’ve been writing material for a series of guest blogs that will upload to various sites throughout the month of September, coinciding with the release of The Art of Getting Stared At. (I’m grateful to the bloggers for hosting me and when I get blog dates, I’ll share them.)   A number of questions focused on the book itself but others were more general.  Several people wanted to know my favorite book as a child.

That was a tough question to answer.  I read early and voraciously, and my tastes changed as rapidly as I grew. I didn’t have just one favorite book. I had a series of favorites.  But as I gave the question some thought, it occurred to me that my natural inclinations were obvious early on.

For the most part, even as a kid I gravitated to two types of books:  contemporary stories that dealt with serious issues or over-the-top glamor romps. A close third was mysteries. I was a loyal Nancy Drew fan.

By the time I was 11, I’d fallen in love with a series of Sue Barton nurse books. She had red hair (how glamorous) and helped save lives (how meaningful).  Though it was toned down somewhat, there was gritty realism in those books.  There was also realism in With Love From Karen about a young girl with cerebral palsy, and in a novel called Mrs. Mike about a 16-year-old Boston girl who moves to the Canadian wilderness, falls in love with a Mountie and copes with extreme hardship. At the same time, I escaped with a series of books about Donna Parker who visited relatives in Hollywood, traveled overseas, and talked a lot about clothes.

The serious/light split continued into my teens as I went through an Ann Rand phase, took up with depressing Russian novelists (Anna Karenina was a favorite) and scared myself silly with Sybil.  At the same time, I devoured the rags to riches story of A Woman of Substance by Barbara Taylor Bradford, Once is Not Enough by Jacqueline Susann and any Sidney Sheldon book I could find.

Maybe that’s why when people ask me to name a favorite book or favorite author I’m as likely to say Jodi Picoult as I am Jennifer Crusie. Or maybe Jojo Moyes or Kristan Higgins. It depends on the day. It depends on my mood. It just . . .  well . . . depends.

And don’t ask me to name my favorite food either. That’s another impossibility. 

My April Reads

 

happy_easterHappy Easter everybody!  It’s been a busy few weeks: getting taxes ready to file, pruning the fruit trees, turning garden beds.  Along with garden and tax chores, I just finished up page proofs for The Art of Getting Stared At, and I submitted a partial book proposal to Orca for another in their Limelights series.   They got back to me very quickly – in two days! – with a yes, we’d love to buy it.  That’s the kind of thing a writer likes to hear!

On the down side, all the activity hasn’t left much time for reading. I’ve averaged about a book a week which is on the low side for me. But with Easter almost here, my sweetie and I are sneaking away for a few days. That means no taxes, no garden chores, no writing deadlines. Instead there will be books. Lots and lots of  books.

Here’s what I’m reading right now:

 

On the Kindle:  Waiting on You by Kristan Higgins

In My Bag:  The All You Can Dream Buffet by Barbara O’Neal

Beside The Bed: Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple

 

Books Read to Date in 2014: 27

The Art of Getting Stared At

 

langston_ArtofGettingStared_pbHere it is! I’ve been waiting for months to show off this cover for The Art of Getting Stared At.  Thanks to the talented folks at Penguin for doing such a wonderful job with this cover.  I love it. I hope you do too.

I’m in the middle of reading page proofs for the book right now.  I’m also exploring the possibility of doing a book trailer, which would be a lot of fun and a great learning experience since I’ve never done one before.  With any luck, it’ll all come together.

Either way, the book is in its final stages and will be available in just a few months!

Writers – Watch Those Epigraphs

 

The-Art-Of-The-Epigraph-largeI love quotes. I collect them like some women collect shoes, only mine aren’t organized in a closet. They’re scattered everywhere: in notebooks and in e-files; cluttering my desk like bits of verbal confetti; on slips of paper in my coat pocket (my yoga teacher prints them out for us to take at the end of class.)    I haven’t stencilled one on my living room wall yet, like a good friend of mine has, because then I’d have to pick a favorite.

I love quotes so much I post one a week on my Facebook author page, and, like many other writers, I generally pick one to start every novel I write.  I’ve done it for years.

Last week I received an email from Penguin Publishing. “Had I,” the editor asked, “Obtained permission for the epigraph I’d selected for The Art of Getting Stared At?”  The epigraph in question reads:  We should not feel embarrassed by our difficulties, only by our failure to grow anything beautiful from them. Alain de Botton.

“I didn’t know I needed to,” I responded.  I assumed the short quote fell under the terms of fair use.

I assumed wrong.

Okay, not completely, unequivocally wrong, but potentially wrong if the epigraph was ever questioned.  And publishers run from the phrase ‘if it’s ever questioned’ like a cat running from hot water.  In fact, the issue of using epigraphs is an extremely grey area. And publishers don’t like grey either  (unless it pertains to shades thereof, and they’re the one responsible for publishing the shades thereof book).

Basically, as the Penguin editor explained it to me, they treat each epigraph on a case-by-case basis because there are so many variables (writer/editor Jane Friedman has written an excellent, more detailed, blog on this: http://janefriedman.com/2012/01/23/permissions/)

In my case, I was asked to contact Mr. de Botton and request permission to use his quote. De Botton is an extremely successful writer (Status Anxiety; The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work are two of his many titles), philosopher, and TV presenter.  My anxiety around the pleasures and sorrows of my own work started to ratchet up.  Would my email hit his spam folder? Be set aside by a publicist or a gatekeeper? What if my request was passed to his publisher? What if de Botton simply didn’t get back to me?  All legitimate concerns and given the fact that I had a deadline, I was a little concerned.

But I wouldn’t know until I tried, so I fired off an email. Less than thirty minutes later, I had an answer from de Botton himself (and he lives in the UK so it was early evening when he received my note which made the quick turnaround all the more remarkable).

“I would be delighted,” he said. “How very kind.”

Not only did my anxiety float off like a dandelion seed on the wind, I was left feeling that I had done Mr. de Botton a favor, when, in fact, the opposite was true.  He was being extraordinarily gracious and generous to me.

Thank you, Mr. de Botton.  Your response was a reminder to be grateful, something you’ve spoken about before.

“Rather than getting more spoilt with age, as difficulties pile up, epiphanies of gratitude abound.”  Alain de Botton.

Staying Alive While Walking My Way to ‘The End’

deskandtreadDriving home with the treadmill in the back of the SUV, I began to worry that I’d been overly optimistic about my ability to walk, write (and ideally think) at the same time. What if I couldn’t adjust to the thing? What if we’d gone to all this time and trouble and money and the treadmill ended up being a giant dust collector in the corner of my office?

My worries were unfounded. I adjusted very quickly. It took me a couple of days to get over my nervousness that I’d fall, and to feel comfortable walking and typing (and thinking) at the same time.  Before long, however, I found the 1 mph speed too slow; I routinely walk now at 1.5 to 2 mph. I also incline the tread a couple of notches as this gives me a more natural feeling step.

My goal is to use the treadmill four or maybe even five hours a day. Currently I’m up to three hours a day, alternating each hour with my sit down desk. After several months of this, I can honestly say I’m more productive on the treadmill than when I sit down. I’m less inclined to surf or check email. I’m more focused on what I’m writing.  There’s something about moving the body that makes my mind move too (It seems to me there have been studies backing that up).

walkingI like the treadmill best when I’m doing fresh writing or when I don’t have to look through books or papers for information.  If I’m writing an article with lots of sources or if I’m on the phone or searching through books, it’s easier to sit with material spread out beside me. But when I’m writing manuscripts or blogs (like this one), walking seems to help the process. I even did a substantial revision for The Art of Getting Stared At while walking and that worked well.

I couldn’t have set this up on my own. Mr. Petrol Head did the hard stuff and made it work. Here are some tips:

Make sure the floor is level before you get the treadmill. If it’s not, level it out.

To make the adjustment easy on my eyes, we set the treadmill monitor the same distance away as it is at my sit-down desk.  This is less of an issue if you’re only using a treadmill desk but because I move from one station to another and I wear glasses when I work, this was important.  We could have wall mounted the monitor but we had brackets and shelving on hand so we used them.

We used the same method (examining my position at my sit down desk) to determine the correct keyboard height. Because I hold a lot of tension in my shoulders, I was worried that typing standing up would be unnatural and cause me shoulder pain.  I also wanted the option of having my mouse even lower. Mr. Petrol Head built two shelves just below the treadmill arms and attached them to the treadmill frame. He temporarily clamped them in place so I could try out the height for a few weeks. When I was sure the height was right, he drilled through the frame of the treadmill (being careful not to cut through any wires) and bolted the shelves into place. Now that I’m used to things I keep my mouse on the same shelf as my keyboard and use the lower shelf for books and papers.

I run two monitors from one desk top computer. I plug and unplug each one as needed. I use the same keyboard and mouse, and simply move both when I move.

Lighting and functionality. I have a combination of recessed pot lights and spot lights in my office and none were well-positioned to light the treadmill keyboard. I got around this with a gooseneck desk lamp that I clamped to a nearby shelf.  Those nearby shelves have also aided significantly in functionality. I can leave my water bottle within easy reach, or the phone if I’m expecting a call. In a pinch I can put papers on them too.

One last suggestion – wear decent shoes.  I had sore feet after the second week so I invested in a good pair of walking runners that live in my office and are dedicated for the treadmill. I also remember to stay hydrated (which might be another reason my focus has improved).

feet-on-treadmill

Transitions: Make Them Powerful, Not Harsh

152537949Here in the Pacific Northwest, it feels like we’ve gone from summer to winter in the space of a week. One day we were sitting by the pond enjoying 16 degree sunshine and two days later we were inside by the fire as a fierce windstorm brought plummeting temperatures, hail and a power outage. The transition was harsh.

Though the weather has stabilized to more fall-like norms, I’ve been thinking about transitions lately. I’m in the middle of revising a YA novel due out next year. As part of the process, I’m making sure the transitions from scene to scene, location to location, and from one point in time to another, are seamless.  But it occurred to me as I worked that if you want to get technical, novels themselves are one big transition. At least most of them are.

Transition, by definition, is the process or period of changing from one state or condition to another. In my novel, The Art of Getting Stared At, the teen protagonist must come to terms with a disease called alopecia areata and the subsequent loss of all her hair.  In the process, Sloane learns about judgement – the way she judges herself and others – and she changes significantly.  She literally transitions from one state of being (both externally and internally) to another.  While the editor was pleased with the way the story flowed, she felt Sloane’s journey from discovering the disease to accepting it – and accepting a particular truth about her own character – should have one big exclamation point somewhere. In other words, she wanted a recognizable point in the story where the character makes that leap, that transition, to realizing she isn’t who she thought she was.

I do have that. It’s a big, black moment kind of scene, and I quite like it. But since I’m more of a gradual girl myself (I don’t like going from summer to winter in a week) I built up to it. And in the process something was lost. So now I’m back in the story, refining and revising so the transition is seamless but the point of no return is clearly recognizable. I don’t want a harsh transition. I don’t like power outages, plummeting temperatures or hail and my character doesn’t either. I’m trying for powerful instead.

Wish me luck. And please pass the cocoa. It’s cold in here.

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