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La Bloga welcomes Corina Carrasco as our first guest columnist of 2008, sharing one of those captivating moments that last a lifetime.

"Every one of you has inside of you the power to catch fire. Right now, with your writing, you are simmering. But at some point in your life, at least one time, you will catch fire. My hope is that you will do it some time during this course."

We listened to his hushed, gentle, captivating voice as he spoke to us, becoming almost inaudible, when he spoke the words "catch fire." We had been brought together on that hot day in late September of 1975, in the basement of Casa Zapata, the Chicano theme house, to take a course in Chicano Writing from Arturo Islas, the first Chicano in the United States to earn a Ph.D. in English and who would, later that year, become the first tenured Chicano professor at Stanford University.

Arturo's teaching in the English Department was legendary and his Chicano Writing course was extremely popular. Students dreamed of getting in then feared that they'd fall short of Arturo's expectations once they got in. The class, taught only one quarter per year, had a maximum enrollment of ten students.

Professor Islas did not drown us in theory or lecture. He read excerpts of writing, published and unpublished, then led us in a discussion of the writing. What made it authentic? What grabbed our interest? What held the piece together? How did the point of view drive the piece? He would give us a premise to write about and challenge us to follow it; however we were always free to write what we wanted. Each week, Arturo sent us off and urged us to "catch fire." The following class meeting students would share their work, we would discuss it, and the writer would go away with ideas of how to improve the piece. Arturo's opinion of our writing was gospel. We revered him. We worked hard to make him happy – to "catch fire."

I was usually quiet in that class, more so than in other classes, because six of the other students were "heavy hitters" in our dorm. They thought they knew everything. They had the power to dictate who was in and who would be left on the periphery. They hadn't decided yet if I would be one of the favored ones or if they'd leave me out. This was important because their decision would be followed by the rest of the dorm who was, after all, my family and support at this time in my life. To make things more intimidating, they were all juniors and seniors. I was the only a sophomore that had been granted admission to this elite writing course.

One afternoon late in October, we sat in the basement riveted to the pieces of writing that Arturo was reading to us. He began a discussion about point of view, and then he assigned the week's writing challenge. We were to take a situation and portray it through the honest and unsentimental eyes of a child. He cautioned us that this would not be as easy as it sounded. We would have to reach way back and think of an event and our age at that time. Then we'd have to honestly portray the event in that child's voice. He challenged us to do it.

As we left the basement at the end of class, I overheard a couple of students say that they weren't going to try the assignment. They felt that it wasn't of benefit to them at this point in their writing. I thought about what a challenge it would be, and besides, I always tried the assignments Arturo gave us. I wanted to learn more about my passion – writing, and I would try every exercise I came across in an effort to learn my craft.

During the week that followed, I began to write about my childhood. At first, it was very difficult to break down the language into that of a child and still have it sound authentic. I kept working on it all week. The night before my writing class with Arturo, I finally had it. I had written the entire story. I liked it, but was afraid to like it. The next day, I arrived at class early and nervously waited for Professor Islas to arrive. When he arrived, I approached him and spoke to him.

"Arturo, I have a story that I wrote. It's the one about portraying an event through the innocent eyes of a child."

"Oh, good. I'm glad you chose to accept my challenge, Corina. Will you read the story for us this afternoon?"

"Well, that's the problem. I thought maybe you could read it first. I am not sure about this story. I think it's the best thing I have ever written but then again, it could be the worst. I'm nervous to read it in front of everyone. Could you please read it when you have time and let me know what you think?"

"You really should read it this afternoon." He looked at me and realized that I was shaking. His gentle look softened even more as he smiled and slowly nodded his head. "Alright, Corina. I'm sure it is fine, but if you really don't want to read it today, I will take it and return it to you next time."

Throughout the class I sat in agony, thinking that Arturo now had my story and would see the incredibly difficult job he had ahead of him if I was to become a writer. I waited all week to hear what he had to say. I couldn't concentrate on anything else. I had to know what Arturo thought of my writing. Finally the day of our class arrived. Arturo nodded at me in acknowledgment but gave me no hint of what he thought of my story. I became more nervous, convinced that he had hated it. He began class and one student read a short piece. During the discussion the others were quite harsh in their opinions of the work. I watched as the student squirmed, under attack. Once finished, Arturo asked for more volunteers. No hands went up.

"Corina has a story she wants to read." He handed me the paper with a smile and a nod. As I read, I heard only ringing in my ears. It was difficult to read, difficult to concentrate on my story, but I kept on reading. Finally, when I had finished, there was silence.

"Does anyone have any comments for Corina?" He searched the faces gathered around the long table. No hands went up. No heads nodded. No heads shook. Nothing.

In those few moments of silence, I knew that the story was the most horrible thing ever written in human history. I shrank in my seat, wanting to become invisible. Then Arturo bent toward me slightly, looked me in the eyes, smiled and whispered, "Corina, you caught fire!"

He went on to cite the ways in which I had done an extraordinary job and how I had captured the innocence of the child while staying away from becoming sentimental or judgmental. I missed most of what he said. My heart sang so loud that it rang in my ears, blocking out his words of praise. Then the others joined in. I sat, trying not to jump out of my body through my smile. I had not only caught fire, I had been the first one to do so that quarter.

More importantly, I knew for sure that I was a writer. I knew that I had it in me and that I should not ever stop writing. That day my writing caught fire and I was determined to not ever let the fire go out.

Throughout the years, when I feel like I cannot go on; like I cannot write; like I will not ever get anything published, I think back to that October afternoon so many years ago. I close my eyes and I listen to Arturo's voice as he says to me, "Corina, you caught fire!"

Corina Carrasco is a former public school teacher and a UCLA Writing Project Fellow. She has presented staff development to writing teachers in the public schools. A single mom, she has raised three children. The youngest child leaves for college this summer. Corina is looking forward to finally getting "her turn" and to concentrating on her writing and editing two novels. She currently enjoys blogging and writing.

A genuine pleasure to have Corina Carrasco as La Bloga's guest columnist today. Thank you, Corina. We're looking forward to welcoming you as a guest again, soon. Gente, La Bloga welcomes guest columnists. If you have an idea, or a finished piece, leave a comment or click here to discuss your invitation.

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Guess the Plot

Shut Up and Ride

1. Katie doesn't like the merry-go-round. She screams at the sight of the Ferris Wheel. Her daddy paid good money to take her to the amusement park, and he's getting really, really mad. Will Katie disappoint her father yet again when he tries to convince her to board the roller coaster know as The Viper? Or will she just . . . Shut Up and Ride?

2. When cowboy bandit Blue Bart kidnaps Miss Kitty from the OK Saloon and forces her to ride through the desert toward Nebraska he has dreams of living happily ever after in a cozy little home on the prairie. But they're actually galloping through a cursed arroyo that's 200 years long -- to 21st century Tucson.

3. Mr. Ed's memoirs, covering his adult life from rebellious young Mustang to smart-mouthed TV star to cranky old nag. Includes his scandalous affair with Connie Hines, who played Wilbur's wife Carol, as well as his emotional trip to the site of the Wilmore Glue Factory.

4. Tiffany signs up for the cattle drive to prove to her hunky new boyfriend that she isn't just a pretty face. Every time she yoo-hoos to him across the herd, though, the cattle spook and her horse takes off, which doesn't help her hairdo. Plus, there's no place to plug in her curling iron. Will she ever learn to just . . . Shut Up and Ride?

5. The true story of Shadrach Jackson, hijacker of the 4:27 express bus from 125th Street to Downtown, with complete explanation of the reasoning behind his actions and his sincere apologies for their terrible consequences, especially to Tiffy Swanson and her poodle, Fluffkins.

6. Kate is fixing up her home to sell it, but her neighbor, Eric, has converted his property into a motocross course. That's gonna narrow down the prospective buyers to Hell's Angels and the deaf. Can Kate work up the nerve to complain, or will she fall under hunky Eric's spell when he tells her to just . . . Shut Up and Ride?


Original Version

Kate Ferguson never takes unnecessary risks, not even in the financial world, where she's known for her careful yet confident portfolio suggestions that make her a top analyst in the investment world. When a ranch hits the market outside of Dallas, she jumps at the real estate opportunity, planning to "flip" it, update it thanks to the talent her eccentric and out-going little sister with a new interior designing degree, then turn around and sell it for a large, lovely profit.

Unfortunately, that "steal" of property came at a higher price than she ever imagined. [Rule #1 in buying real estate: count the number of zeros in the asking price at least twice.] The property next to her is owned by Eric Hutchinson, a distraction Kate does not have time for, even if he's funny, sexy and tends to swoop in and save her more times than her stubborn mind cares to admit. Worse than his ability to see through her guarded walls and false bravado, worse than the fact that she turns into a bumbling girl instead of the confident, successful business woman she's become, all of that is overshadowed by the horrible fact that his land is used for Motorcross practices, not cattle, and Kate realizes the chances plummet of selling her one hundred acres of prime real estate to any serious rancher and could cause her to face real financial ruin. [A 100-acre cattle ranch? In Texas? I thought everything was bigger in Texas.]

Kate has a mere month of vacation to get this house in condition to sell and distractions are not on the agenda. She should have realized it was all over the moment she met the rattlesnake her first day in the new house. [How did Eric get into her house?] Throw in a rooster with an attitude who thinks she's his hen, add her sister getting a "real" job and making Kate face the redesigning herself – regardless that she doesn't have a creative cell in her entire DNA [Actually, I think the DNA is in the cells.] - and her damned attraction to the man who ruined all her brilliant plans, Kate faces a sharp reality: one simply can't plan for everything, and sometimes dangerous risks have the best rewards in the end. [Meaning, Kate quits her investment analysis career and becomes a champion Motocross racer, and lives happily ever after with Eric?] [You're giving us the right information, and the right tone, but it's wordy and unpolished. It needs to be clear and organized, with a smooth and logical progression.]

SHUT UP AND RIDE is available for review. I am a member of RWA, and shockingly, live on a farm – with a rooster. [Shockingly? No, after only one paragraph I was pretty sure you had access to at least one cock.] I'm also immersed in the Motocross world more than I care to admit, and feel all these aspects come into play to make SHUT UP AND RIDE something the readers of Jennifer Crusie and Susan Elizabeth Phillips would enjoy as well.

Thank you for your time.


Revised Version

Kate Ferguson never takes unnecessary risks, not even in the financial world, where she's known as a top investment analyst. But when an underpriced ranch hits the market outside of Dallas, she jumps at the opportunity, planning to "flip" it with the help of her eccentric interior designer sister, then turn around and sell it for a large, lovely profit.

Unfortunately, her new ranch isn't quite the steal Kate imagines.

The property next to her is owned by Eric Hutchinson, a distraction Kate does not have time for, even if he is funny and sexy and tends to swoop in and save her more times than her stubborn mind cares to admit. It's not his ability to see through her guarded walls and false bravado that bothers her; and it's not the way she turns into a bumbling schoolgirl whenever he's around; it's the horrible fact that his land is used for Motocross practices! Suddenly Kate's list of prospective buyers has dwindled to Hell's Angels and the deaf, and she's facing financial ruin.

What keeps her going after she finds the rattlesnake in her bedroom? And when the rooster decides that Kate's his hen? And when her sister gets a "real" job, forcing Kate to handle the designing herself--never mind that she hasn't a creative gene in her entire DNA? Maybe it's desperation. Maybe it's sheer stubbornness. Or maybe . . . it's her damned attraction to the man who ruined her brilliant plan. Hey, sometimes the biggest risks lead to the best rewards.

SHUT UP AND RIDE is available for review. I am a member of RWA, and live on a farm – with a rooster. I'm also immersed in the Motocross world more than I care to admit, and feel all these elements come into play to make SHUT UP AND RIDE realistic, and a story the fans of Jennifer Crusie and Susan Elizabeth Phillips would enjoy.

Thank you for your time.


Notes

I once found myself in Myrtle Beach during Motorcycle Week, with about a million motorcycles constantly roaring up and down the streets. And I did see lots of women riding on the backs of their men's hogs (though I didn't see any of them reading romance novels). But no doubt there are plenty of women who fantasize about leather-jacketed fat guys with Harleys and beards and tattoos.

Hey, I'm just joking; motocross riders are athletes, with hard chiseled bodies, and who could blame you for falling for one of them, even if, in retrospect, it was the second-worst mistake you ever made?

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Every 500th Face-Lift, I turn the tables. I write the Guess the Plots, it's my query, and my minions write all the blue comments and notes. It's payback time.


Guess the Plot

Love Letters From a Stranger

1. When Liz starts getting daily love letters from a complete stranger, she's flattered . . . until she reads a newspaper article about a serial killer known as The Correspondent.

2. With her love life going nowhere, Tricia tries answering love letters received by her roommate, little suspecting that within hours of meeting their author she will reveal her darkest secrets . . . and will be engaged to be married.

3. The love letters were anonymous, but the envelopes had return addresses. Lonely spinster Mildred Marshall decides to investigate, but when she discovers that the address is a local graveyard she must decide: was it was all a prank, or does she have a secret admirer who happens to be a zombie?

4. Snooping in her sister Marie's dresser, Mary finds a bundle of passionate love letters from someone named Charlie. She should put them back the way she found them . . . but it's so easy to change "Marie" to "Mary" and "Charlie" to "Charlesworth," and then no one will know . . .

5. Anabel Pennilocks had never heard of Eddie Bauer until he started sending her coupons and invitations and booklets filled with pictures of clothes he apparently wanted to see her in. It was a little scary that he knew where she lived, but he did seem to have good taste. Could this finally be . . . the one?

6. His love letters arrived every week without fail. But who was he? Janice hires a private detective to find out, little suspecting that she will soon be embroiled in a diabolical plot to wipe out all marine mammals on the planet.


Original Version

Dear Editor:

IZ (short for Ishmael) [thanks for the abbrev; two syllables can be a mouthful.] frequently falls in love at first sight. [Every morning while shaving his chest]. He's a writer, but the only stories he's sold appeared in [self-published Internet] porn magazines too disgusting to show to women, [Says who? Robin might be interested. I know McKoala would be.] [Anyway, the author's publishing credits usually go at the end; oh, these are the character's credits?] so he tells women he's a bus driver. Actually, bus driver is his day job, and one morning, watching a beautiful woman leave her apartment and walk to his waiting bus, he becomes wildly infatuated. [I'm glad; mild-mannered infatuation is so confusing.] So much so that he writes her a letter. [Wow, that is wild.]

TRICIA, [(short for Trichinosis)], a librarian [with an affinity for undercooked pork], lives in the same apartment with BETH, the woman to whom Iz wrote his letter. [This is your lead paragraph. Actually, I recommend cutting Iz out of the story altogether and having this be the story of Tricia and Beth having late night pillow fights and exploring certain feelings they've had for a long time, but they've never been with someone they were comfortable enough to try it with. Probably Iz has already written this story up.] Though Beth was unimpressed with Iz’s letter, [It was worse than a new beginning on EE's blog] and worries that Iz is a stalker, [A stalker who mails a couple letters instead of getting on Facebook and poking you every other hour? Who wouldn't be unimpressed?] Tricia was intrigued by the letter— [Well, actually, there was an enclosed photo.]and also by [the way the alliteration of “Is Iz it?” makes her hot, and also by] the second letter Iz sends when he receives no reply to the first.

[Dear Bus-Riding Betsy,

I’m coming for you. One day, when you least expect it – when you’ve turned off the shower, being careful to give the faucet handle the extra twist it requires to keep the water from continuing to drip, and you’ve pulled back the sea-through shower curtain with the little tropical fishies painted on it right across the middle, hiding most of your goodies from me, right then, when you’re just drying off with that towels with the tassles, I’ll be there with you.

Love, Iz (but you can call me Ishmael).]

Months pass. Her love life going nowhere, Tricia asks Beth to dig out the letters from Iz so she can reply to them.

[Dear Iz,

Is it only Iz, or is Iz an ironic ID? Your name makes me hot. Do you like raw bacon too? Check the box below if yes.

Hugs and Kizzez,

Tricia]

When Iz receives Tricia’s letter he phones and asks her out. Beth feels Tricia will be safer if Beth goes along, and Iz invites his womanizing roommate, REX, to make it a foursome. [Earth to Iz: Never invite a womanizing roommate along when you've already got a threesome for yourself.] Is this the blind/double date from hell? [Is this the query letter from hell?] Maybe not--the hilarious evening culminates in some strange revelations and some surprising events--including two wedding engagements. [Iz/Rex and Tricia/Beth].

Throughout the novel are many excerpts from Iz’s journal, a journal he intends to adapt into a novel (this novel). He describes the novel-in-progress to Tricia as “the Seinfeld of novels,” a novel about nothing. [Good God! You've sumarized my whole day in the slush pile in one sentence! Send me a full.] And admittedly the draw of the book lies not in its plot twists, but in the witty conversations Iz and Tricia have with their housemates, [with Kramer and Newman,] with other characters, and, at last, with each other. But there’s more here than [whiny Jews and] snappy dialogue. There’s a sweet, feel-good romance [please, you're ruining my EE image] filled with gentle [Translation: Not Funny.] humor.

Love Letters from a Stranger is a quirky romantic comedy of about 50,000 words [, 12 of which move the plot forward]. My book Novel Deviations, though a miserable financial failure, [Then why are you still charging so much?], is being adapted into a Martin Scorsese film [starring Daniel Day-Lewis as myself, and Leonardo DiCaprio as blogless_troll]. Also, my blog has had 800,000 visits from people [delete "people" and insert "weirdos"] [Make that "weredingos"] eager to read anything I write so that they can pan, blast, nitpick, slam and trash me the way I have done them. [That's a good-sized platform, but none of the minions can rub two quarters together, except Church Lady, who swiped them from the offering plate.] Thank you.


Notes

While this may have been a sweet, feel-good romance when it happened to you, it doesn't mean readers will like it. However, if you change the title to Seinfeld: The Novel, it'll be well into its third printing before anyone catches on.

You can’t expect much motile movement with that inadequate word count of yours, EE. And, while your platform may be large and well-formed, it is, you must admit, self-propelled, and, as such, may not be quite the platform agents are looking for in the requisite self-aggrandizement-and-suck-up query letter paragraph.


[Comments and notes submitted by blogless_troll, Church Lady, Bill Highsmith, Robin Sinott, Pacatrue and anonymous.]

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Guess the Plot

Catalpa Hall

1. When gardeners plow up what might be an old cemetery on the grounds of Catalpa Hall, Boring-0n-End's oldest building, amateur sleuth and all-around busybody, Amelia Pettipants, suspects the Illuminati are at it again.

2. Her brother drowned twenty years ago. Now Melody Moon has returned to her hometown, rich, famous, and determined to find out what really happened at the lake behind . . . Catalpa Hall.

3. For years everyone steered clear of the oldest building on campus after dark, fearful of meeting its celebrated ghost. But Russell and Trevor need a special project for Photography class. Can they survive a night in Catalpa Hall--and get photographs of the ghost?

4. Sir Neville Hall ships his daughter Catalpa to Kenya to marry a plantation owner before the product of her passion for art can be born. Her artist lover follows, determined to be part of his child's life. Now can Catalpa convince her new husband that the baby drew those pictures of nude women on the wall of the nursery?

5. Expelled from high school, Turk Lombard is sent by his parents to Catalpa Hall, a military academy where troublemakers supposedly get whipped into shape. When it turns out they just get whipped, Turk organizes a rebellion that leaves the entire faculty dead.

6. A university instructor of anthropology must find a missing thousand-year-old, gold-plated nasal cavity before all hell breaks loose – literally.


Original Version

Dear Agent Almighty,
­
Melody Moon has returned. Returned to her rural roots with fame, riches, and a burn-scarred young daughter named Ruthie in hopes of finding Gideon, the young man with the spectacular birthmark on his face [It looks exactly like the chariot race from Ben Hur.] whose memory has haunted Melody for twenty years. Yet the date Ruthie discovers Gideon had carved under the stage at the now dilapidated Catalpa Hall is the currentyear. [1. How does she know the date wasn't carved in the current year? 2. How does she know Gideon carved it? 3. How young is Ruthie, and what is she doing underneath a stage in a dilapidated building? 4. The word "yet" leads us to believe finding the current year carved under a stage is astounding. We won't find the event astounding unless you've already convinced us of its genuine unlikelihood. It's sort of like opening your query:

Johnny Graves walked straight to school without seeing anyone. Yet the ruler in his bookbag was orange!

This is astounding only if you've already told us he left home with his purple ruler.]

Melody and Gideon were once known as the “Double Uglies,” dubbed as such by Melody’s obnoxious older brother, Dean. The cruel nickname later earned Melody quite a reputation for herself as an author of children’s literature, [Maybe you mean the nickname earned her fame as an author--for instance, when she wrote a series of books about the Double Uglies? Can you have a reputation as an author, if you are an author? Evil Editor has a reputation (totally undeserved) as evil. He has fame (also totally undeserved) as a blogger.] but only Gideon knows that it has actually cost her dreadfully more--it cost her brother’s drowning long ago. [You mean it caused her brother's drowning? Calling Melody and Gideon Double Uglies caused Dean to drown?] It’s a death that torments Gideon to this day, turning him into the recluse he has become.

He feels responsible for the death. [If you get tired of someone calling you ugly, and hold his head underwater in a lake until he drowns, are you really responsible?]

What exactly did happen at the hidden lake behind Catalpa Hall when they were all but children [All but children?] just trying to get by in the backwoods culture…and who else may have witnessed it? It appears that someone with much more sinister motives is also involved. [Much more sinister than whose? Motives for what?] Gideon’s deep love for the enchanting young woman he’d been forced to leave two decades ago may force him to abandon her once more. Melody has no idea why Gideon, once again, feels he must leave her, as well as her daughter, behind. [She goes off and becomes a writer, while he becomes a recluse. She comes back, and he's still there. Yet you claim he left her behind?]

Catalpa Hall is complete at 90,000-words. May I share this mainstream love story with you? I’d be happy to send a partial, or the entire manuscript at your request. Thank you for your time.


Notes

It's not clear enough. One could easily get the impression you're trying to keep us in the dark about everything. Why does Gideon think he's responsible for the drowning? Is the person really responsible still hanging around twenty years later? If I'd gotten away with murder, I'd have headed for New Zealand before the cops wised up.

Is the non-romance part basically the twenty-year-old mystery? Or is something going on now? Is someone in danger from the sinister person? Melody came back in hopes of finding Gideon, and Gideon is there. Problem solved. Now Gideon's ditching her because he drowned her brother twenty years ago? I can't remember what I was doing two years ago. Twenty years ago I was so ripped I could have killed a dozen people and I wouldn't remember it.

Gideon feels deep love for someone he hasn't seen in twenty years, and they were children when he last saw her? I don't buy it.

I realize there are lakes smaller than Lake Superior, but for a lake to be hidden, it would have to be more like an indoor swimming pool. I mean, you could call it hidden if it's out in the middle of nowhere, but this lake is right behind Catalpa Hall. Who's it hidden from?

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