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Here’s one of many projects that has been mostly finished for a long time. It’s finally wearable! It’s based loosely on the Burda Anda pattern, like the one I made here.

As with my previous version, I petitified it using existing clothing as a guide. This version is color-blocked, obviously, with no sleeves. I used a top from my closet to guide armhole sizing. I lowered the waist a bit and used elastic on the inside, rather than an outer drawstring casing like the pattern calls for.

I also used the bias tape as a facing rather than as an exposed detail. The tutorial for doing this with the Sorbetto top was very, very helpful and applicable to any number of projects. It’s not as tricky as it might sound, if you’ve used bias tape before. I’m beginning to get the hang of the bias tape thing. It’s really handy once you get used to it.

Lastly, I made a self belt, a little wider and shorter this time than last.

The reddish linen came from the bargain booth at the Hannover, Germany Stoffmarkt last June. The cream-colored linen was a remnant given to me by a friend. Earrings by Claire’s, circa the dark ages, and the wooden beaded necklace was a gift from my Granny a bajillion years ago. I want to say she picked it up on a trip to Israel.

I have to say I’m pretty happy with the dress. Think I’ll wear this one a lot. I’ve almost finished another Anda-inspired dress, if I can find my sewing scissors, so hopefully I can share that soon.

If you want to see some of my other sewing projects, click here.

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Can you say it three times fast?

Sorry I haven’t been around much in the last week or so. Now that a certain girl’s coronation birthday weekend week is over, I’m coming up for air.

We did it, folks. We survived a sleepover birthday party (plus days of other celebratory activities) and lived to tell the tale. I’m not exactly sure how she hypnotized talked us into the sleepover. All told, it went pretty well, though, and thankfully, the girls got along.

One highlight of the party was “Pass the Parcel,” which our daughter learned from her British (and half-British) friends in Germany. It’s really a fun, sweet game, and you can organize it so that everyone feels like they’ve won.

Basically, you have a small prize wrapped up in layers upon layers of wrapping paper. You pass the parcel around while music plays, and each time the grown up stops the music, the person holding the parcel gets to unwrap a layer. Ideally, each layer holds a tiny prize (in this case, Jolly Ranchers) and there’s at least one layer for each player.

We got distracted a bit while wrapping our parcel, and some layers—oops!—were empty. Nevermind, the girls were gracious and divided the candy evenly at the end.

At the center, we placed a collection of polymer clay beads and linen string, so each kid could make a necklace, bracelet, or key chain thingy. I had them pass the bead collection around and let each child choose a bead until they were all gone. Thankfully, there wasn’t much fuss about who got what colors. They’re all pretty, right?

Then each child strung the beads into the desired shape. So fun.

My kids and I had made the beads months earlier, with no thought of a party. I was inspired by this lovely post, which includes instructions, but I couldn’t figure out a way to string them in a way that suited me, so they sat around for months. I think I’ll try making some for me again—we have more clay.

Anyway the beads were a hit, and the activity was just enough—not too long, not too frustrating. We may have to make “Pass the Parcel” a party staple!

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at Kindling Words West 2011On Sunday I'll be flying to New Mexico for the Kindling Words West retreat. I can't wait.

Retreats have always been an important part of my writing. When I lived in Florida, I went on a few with writing friends--to the beach and to a cabin in the woods. My critique partner and I have had our own cabin and house retreats, too. And then there is Kindling Words, which I can't recommend highly enough. 

I like retreats for a few reasons. The first is that I typically get a ton of work done. I revised an entire draft of DROUGHT at Kindling Words West, one year. But even more important is the chance to talk about craft and life and creativity with other writers. We are so often stuck in our own little holes, without face-to-face contact with other people who are the same flavor of crazy. Social media helps, but you can't beat sitting down to dinner with four other authors. We don't always "talk shop"--we might talk about someone's chickens, or our favorite television shows, or the best places to hike. But there is always an undercurrent of understanding and belonging. At retreats, I get to hang with my tribe. That nourishes me.

Retreats also give me the chance to be entirely my creative self. I don't have to wear my work hat, or my mommy hat (thought I miss my kid tremendously), or worry about any other Grownup Necessity. I can play. I can be the same core self I've been since I was five or six. Sometimes I forget that girl is in there. 

But a retreat always brings her back. 

I'll be sure to post a retreat report upon my return.

 

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This Monday I’m inspired by the Sea Otter Classic bicycle races I went to over the weekend at Laguna Seca. There’s a motto FOX, a bicycle shock manufacturer, has––Redefine your limits it’s a fabulous way to start this week. Thinking about what’s beyond our limits. It’s something I like to write about. My characters try to redefine their limits. But, it’s not something I’ve really thought about lately in terms of myself.

What’s beyond your limits?

All of the riders were an inspiration, especially my daughter’s boyfriend, an enduro bike racer. The racers’ dedication and love of the sport is a joy. It’s fun to think about what lies beyond the things I think I can handle. That there might be something more I might try. Something more difficult than I ever thought I could ever pull off. I’m going to redefine my limits this week. I need the extra encouragement to meet deadlines, for sure. But creatively I think I’ll adjust my writing shocks so that I can navigate some steeper, gnarlier trails than I’m used to. Take more risks and thrill in the zesty downhill ride.

What’ a limit you want to redefine?

What I’m listening to as I edit this morning: Could I’ve been so blind by The Black Crowes

 

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A recent RadioLab podcast about improv got me thinking about where stories come from.

The two comedians featured in the podcast, TJ Jagodowski and Dave Pasquesi, have a show that I'd call extreme improv. Most improv shows start with the audience shouting out elements of the improv, and the comedians riff from there. Like, "there's a hippo in the room!" or "you're at the beach!". But TJ and Dave start from nothing, every single show. They stand on the stage and just stare at each other. Finally one says something, anything, random. And they take it from there. Every show is different. When they walk out on stage, they have no idea what they'll do or say that night. 

Shoot, isn't that just like writing a novel? The only difference is that you don't have anybody to stare at and create with. It's just you, and the laptop, and the void. When you first sit down, you don't know what you'll write. Sure you might have an outline. But really? You can't predict what's going to flow out of your fingers. 

A lot of pressure, right? The interviewer asked TJ and Dave, "why aren't you afraid you will look for this story... and nothing will occur?". They laughed, and one admitted, "Is that a constant fear? Yes. Absolutely."

But they have a fantastic way of dealing with that fear, one that I think every writer should try. They tell themselves the story they're telling is already out there. "It's already happening," one of them said. "It's not our job to make it." They imagine that right before they begin, the stage is filled with characters. The lights come up and one story is frozen on stage. That's the one they'll tell.

Isn't that enchanting? 

"To think of the show as it's already set and all I have to do is stay out of the way takes a huge pressure off," they said. "I'm along for this excellent ride."

That also made me think of another Radio Lab podcast ("Me, Myself and Muse"). Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of EAT PRAY LOVE, talked about ideas looking for a home. If you ignore them, they might go somewhere else. 

She's really saying the same thing. Artists don't make the story. It's already out there. So our job is actually to capture the story, claim it, and get it down on paper or on the stage.

I love this idea, particularly as I'm working in my 40-days-of-wandering mode. So I'm off with my butterfly net and laptop. If I'm lucky, I'll catch myself a really good story. 

Here are both RadioLab episodes, if you'd like to listen to them from this blog entry:

Radiolab Presents: TJ&Dave:

Me, Myself and Muse:

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Goblin Secrets
William Alexander
middle grade

It's been a while since I've really sunk by teeth into the craft of a book, partly because I listen to so many audio books and it really is a different experience. However, I read Goblin Secrets out loud to my eleven year-old. It was our evening reading book. I will readily admit that my craft feelers were more fine-tuned than when I read a book that hasn't won The National Book Award. Spoiler alert - my expectations are higher for award winners.

Very briefly, the story is about an orphaned boy, Rownie, living in a magical world that includes goblins, who were once humans who have changed, machines that use the hearts of anything from fish to humans as fuel, and mechanical creatures that are also part organic.

Rownie wants to find his brother, we discover somewhat into the story. He starts out the "grandchild" of a witch but runs away and joins a troupe of goblins, who, it turns out, are also looking for Rownie's brother. They eventually find him. He's been turned into a puppet, i.e. his heart has been removed and with it, his will. Rownie, however, saves his brother and keeps the river from flooding the city of Zombay.

This story is packed with creative imagination in a wholly invented world like nothing I've ever experienced before. For exactly that reason, I would have loved a little more world-building. I was left wondering about the shape and breadth of this particular world. Tolkien set the bar so high when it comes to world-building. In this book, world-building was more of a sketch. We are left with many incomplete ideas. How does a person become a goblin? Why is acting outlawed? How do the hearts fuel stuff? Who is the mayor? How did this world come to be? Why are the goblins looking for Rownie's brother? What are dust fish? How do they exist? Can you eat them? Are there other magical creatures, or just goblins? Why goblins?

Does it really matter?  My eleven year-old didn't worry about all this. She was perfectly content with the world as it stands.

Desire lines were there, but also a little under-developed. For instance, Graba craves power so she dislikes the goblins, who have their own kind of power. This could be developed more. As it stands, it's very archetypal. It works, but there isn't much meat there. This is typical of many desire lines, including Rownie's. He wants to find his brother, but that doesn't come out until a few chapters into the story, and as such doesn't feel like THE heart's desire of the book exactly.

Of course, as with any good story, weaknesses are easily forgiven if we're swept into the fictional dream and stay their voluntarily. I was and I did. This book deserves to be read not just because it sweeps the reader into that dream but because there is enough, both good and bad, crafting to make the writer think and learn.

For other great winter treats, slide over to Barrie Summy's website!

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I’m just a teensy bit late with this Halloween post. Our little man just had to, had to be the green ninja from Ninjago. It was a bit of a trick figuring out how to make up the costume, especially the sword-holding thingy in the back, which, according to my son, was absolutely essential.

I bought cheap green jogging pants and used gold fabric paint (the kind you squeeze out) to make the little gold shapes on them. On the figure they’re actually silver but, whatever.

The top is a green fleece I refused to paint on since I wanted him to be able to wear it plain later. I did add black cardboard-and-toilet-paper-roll epaulets on the shoulders, tacked on with thread. These were only semi-sucessful. You can see them hanging off his shoulders. We probably should’ve skipped them.

The headpiece is another simple balaclava I made like the ones for the knight costumes, only with a silver piece sewn on. The green is a thrifted sweatshirt and the silver from the same thrifted sweater that I used for one of the knight helmets.

The black belt is actually Daddy’s bathrobe sash. Ha! And the sword-holder-thingy in back (sorry, no picture) I made by cutting slits in a small cardboard box that I painted black. Four slits for the swords, then some small holes for the ties cut from sweatshirt material. We then tied the ties around his chest to hold the box on his back.

It’s not fancy, but it worked. This is kind of my costume philosophy—-I want them to be comfortable and re-usable but inexpensive and quickly slapped together. Thrifted knits are great for this.

For other low-sew costumes with thrifted parts, check out our fireman suit, knight, and turtle costumes. Oh, and here’s a princess for good measure, with maybe a little more sewing involved.

In other news, I’ve been doing some development work on secondary characters in my novel, using this questionnaire. The questionnaire was originally written for role-playing gaming, but totally works for novel-writing, too. I’ve been surprised at some of the interesting things that are coming from it. Hope I can put them to good use.

Northern friends, I hope you’re not stuck in the snow, or at least if you are, that you’ve got power, food, and board games.

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No, we aren’t expecting any pitter patter of (more) little feet. Nope. No, seriously, these aren’t for our family.

I found pieces from a cloth diaper pattern I’d cut out ages ago, in a pregnant nesting phase (loooooong story), and decided they had to be made up for a certain Viking baby who was just born. His cloth diapering mama has several older boys, so I thought baby Viking needed a little something new that was just his.

Good gravy! There’s just something about itty bitty cloth diapers that I find totally irresistible. Maybe a strange object of affection, but I’m so goo-goo over these.

Below is a shot of the inside, wrong side out, before the edges were sewn. The middle rectangle is what’s called a soaker, the absorbent pad in the diaper. In this case it’s flannel and, I think, old cotton T-shirt material.

The outer yellow fabric is also flannel. The hook and loop closure is called Touch Tape and is like velcro’s much stronger and gentler brother. It rocks, basically. The blue fabric, used on the inside of one diaper, is hand-dyed terry cotton velour leftover from a semi-failed attempt at making a custom Boppy cover. Hand-dyed, because yes, I’m exactly that crazy.

Like I said, my nesting phases = long story.

Anyway, these came together pretty quickly because I’d made so many of them before. Mama-friend was very pleased with the diapers, which made me so happy. Hopefully they will fit Baby Viking for more than a few days!

If you’re interested in diaper sewing yourself, there are tons of resources out there, but here’s a free pattern for ones similar to these. I would definitely recommend having some sewing experience under your belt before trying them. They’re not really soooo involved, but they wouldn’t be a good beginner project.

Hope you have a great weekend. I’ve been getting so excited about the seedlings I’m growing for our garden. Stay alive! Stay alive! I tell them. What are you up to?

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Downton Abbey (which I’m discussing elsewhere so as not to put spoilers in Jane’s path) got me thinking about the man behind the curtain (or the woman, as the case may be)—the writer. My frustrations with that show have to do mostly with the way the writing is sometimes so very visible. Much of the conversation I’ve seen around the web today, including in my own post, questions decisions made by Julian Fellowes. In a way, he’s as much a character in the series as anyone on camera. We’re always aware of his fingers on the keys—this well-turned quip, that infuriating plot twist, this theme stated baldly and repeatedly by numerous characters until we feel bludgeoned by it.

It’s unusual, and therefore interesting, to see a show of this calibre (clearly there is something above-the-pack about Downton that keeps us all panting for the next episode, and has so many of us talking talking talking week after week) fail on a suspension-of-disbelief level with such regularity. We’re constantly thinking about the writing, and therefore the writer. This is seldom the case with other fine shows I’ve been hooked on. Mad Men, for example—I hardly ever think about the writing while I’m watching it. Afterward, yes, generally with admiration, always with fascination.

The Wire: I don’t believe I ever once considered the people behind the curtain during the entire run of that show. I was pulled so thoroughly into the world that it became absolutely real. Sometimes I’ll see one of the actors in another role and get a jolt: but I thought you were still walking a beat in Baltimore!

LOST is an example of an excellent show which nevertheless featured The Writing as a supporting character. Indeed, there were entire seasons when I was pretty sure the writers had no idea where certain strands were going, and sometimes The Writing seemed to wander off into the jungle and be eaten by a polar bear. (I mean, that whole thing with ghostly Walt popping up now and then, after he’d been returned to the mainland—did they ever explain that? I have the feeling the young actor grew up too much over a hiatus and they had to just let the plotline fizzle away—which would be an event outside the story affecting the storyline.)

And yet I loved LOST (and still miss it), just as I have loved Downton, despite the enormous footprints The Writing leaves all over the house. (The poor housemaids, always having to clean up after it—and then it repays them by giving them the sack, or throwing their husbands in jail.)

The Downton incident that so many of us are bemoaning today is a particularly egregious case of The Writing leaping in front of the camera and announcing it’s ready for its close-up, Mr. DeMille. An off-camera, real-world decision by an actor seems to have annoyed The Writing, possibly outraged it, and it rummaged through the cupboard until it found a rusty old overused implement and flung it through the fourth wall.

As a writer myself, I like to ponder the people behind the curtain—after the fact. When the show’s over and I’ve emerged from its world, that’s when I like to imagine the discussions in the writers’ room or trace the artful seed-planting that bears delicious fruit somewhere down the line. Arrested Development is one of the best examples ever of a show whose writers are so perfectly invisible that I never think of them at all during an episode—and then afterwards, or four episodes later, or on the seventh viewing, I’ll find myself marveling at their skill, their cleverness, their patience (allowing a joke to bide its time and blossom half a season later). That’s a show in which the writers are never onstage, but upon recollection I’ll wish I could have been a fly on the wall when they came up with some of their bits. What I wouldn’t give for a YouTube clip of the day they came up with Bob Loblaw! Who thought up that name? (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, click the link; you have to hear it spoken aloud.) Did the rest of the team all fall out of their chairs laughing when one of them uttered it for the first time? Were they able to get any work done for the rest of the day or was it overthrown by helpless giggles?

The internet, of course, puts us all in closer contact with the creators of our books, television shows, films, and music. Many of you probably know me better than you know my books. And if you’ve read my blog for a while, it may be hard to approach my books without thinking of me, the writer, on the other side of the page. At least, that’s how it is for me when I open books written by people I know, either in person or online.

Sometimes this familiarity works in the writer’s favor, and sometimes it hinders full enjoyment of the work. Returning to LOST, for example: much as I loved that show, much as I hung on every next episode, I had an uneasiness in the back of my mind the whole time, because early on I’d seen a TED talk by J.J. Abrams, in which he told a story about buying a mystery box at a magic store as a kid—a box marked only with a question mark, so that you didn’t know what was inside until you took it home and opened it. He never opened his. He displayed it right there during his talk, still sealed up decades later. It held more meaning for him as a possibility, a mystery; he’d kept it as a talisman all those years, a symbol of the joy of the unknown. I listened to him describe this—it was early in Season 2, I think—and I thought, Ohhhh NO, he likes unanswered riddles. LOST had us up to our ears in unanswered riddles, and by golly I wanted answers; but knowing what I knew about one of the most powerful people behind that particular curtain, I no longer had confidence answers would be provided.

(And yet I dove eagerly into that quicksand pit of riddles week after week.)

With novels, it seems generally easier to tuck the writer back behind the curtain and forget about him or her. Not always, but usually, if the story is well told. This is probably because there are fewer variables; your novel’s characters can’t quit on you, or send unfortunate tweets, or be arrested for drunk driving. It’s only when a book has plot holes or something clunks that I’m back to thinking about the person behind the page. Sometimes it’ll even be the editor who draws my focus; I’m thinking: Why didn’t you catch that? This story didn’t start until chapter three, and it’s your job to break that news to the writer. 

(Perhaps I think this because I’ve had the good fortune of working with truly excellent editors who perceive all things visible and invisible.)

It’s a strange age we live in. What I want as a writer is to be invisible on the page; I don’t want the reader thinking about me at all. I believe that if I’m doing my job right, you’ll have forgotten about me within a few paragraphs—or perhaps a few pages, if you know me with some degree of familiarity. And yet, as an author (i.e. writer of published books), I’m aware that my publishers expect, and my books’ survival may in part depend on, various kinds of visibility. And then I’m also a blogger, eight years in love with the form—a medium which is all about person-to-person sharing, and which sometimes brings me more direct satisfaction than my books.

(Am I allowed to admit that? It’s true, though. Most writers I know go on being critical of their own work long after it’s been published. Not to mention the blunt reality of things sometimes going out of print.)

So our various selves are all intertwined, these days: the reader, the writer, the viewer, the performer. I’m reading your novel on one screen and chatting about your hellish commute on another. I’m watching your movie and thinking about that perplexing remark you made in a blog post. I’m head over heels in love with your television show—and desperately wishing you’d written yourself out of this particular script.

Which I suppose is where my point is. I don’t mind the intertwined identities; in fact, I rather enjoy them, as long as they don’t affect the work. The more I respect your talent and skill, the less I want to think about you while I’m enjoying your art. I’ll eagerly go and hear you speak about it later—that’s a joy, hearing creative people discuss their work. But I don’t want to be in a writing workshop with every single creator I encounter. I don’t want to think about your writerly choices, and what drives them, not in the moment, not while I’m immersed in your work. Give me invisible craft. Let me believe, just for this hour, that there are no puppet strings, no hands pulling them. Let me believe there’s no one there behind that curtain—let me forget the curtain exists at all.

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I got a bunch of lovely silk remnants (crepe?) from a friend who was leaving Hannover some time ago. I’d never sewn with silk before, but it only took me two years to work up my nerve to actually run it through the sewing machine.

I thought and thought about the best thing to make with it. The remnants are lovely but a little pale for my coloring. I over-dyed some of it, which I’ve been working into a dress. I was planning to use all of it for clothes, but the camel and pale green then turned out to be just right for a throw for our “book nook.”

Ever since reading Handmade Home, I’ve been wanting all sorts of handmade throws to snuggle up with. And natural fibers! But of course natural fibers for a large project get pretty expensive.

But with gifted silk remnants, the decadence could be mine, all mine! And really, was imperfect silk sewing really better than letting all that lovely silk just sit in storage?

My original plan was to quilt the throw. The assembly part went pretty well, not as tricky as I’d feared. I used part of an old sheet for the middle layer. But machine-quilting silk was another story. I liked making crazy lines with the machine, but the silk got all slippy and puckery, but not in a fun way. So I just stopped quilting after a little while and left it at that. I would unpick the quilting, but I think it’d make it worse, and anyway, it’s just for us. The throw is a really nice weight, perfect for a little reading or a quick nap.

And I’m all about celebrating imperfections. Otherwise this throw would still be remnants in the stash box. Hopefully my gifting friend won’t see this and gasp with horror

Stay tuned for another natural fiber throw of a very different kind. And hopefully that overdyed silk dress will be ready soon. It’s allllllmost finished.

If you, too, have silk-sewing fears, here are some tips I found very helpful from Sunni of a fashionable stitch.

Have a great weekend!

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Sometime in the last few months I got it in my head that I wanted a cashmere blanket. Like, really wanted one. I think maybe I started obsessing when I was paging through Handmade Home and saw all the cozy, cozy stacks of blankets. I just wanted to curl up with them. I didn’t want to fork over the money for cashmere, though, so I started scheming. Could I possibly find enough thrifted cashmere to make a blanket?

Sometimes it’s hard to come by, but lo and behold, there was a bumper crop of cashmere at Goodwill this fall. Some of it was in perfect condition, in my size, with classic lines. What?! I washed those and put them in my closet.

The rest of it, the out-of-fashion, the holey, the wrong sizes, I cut into rectangles (excluding the holey bits) after washing it. I added in a few washed and shrunken merino sweaters, too, to round things out and make the blanket a little bigger.

In all I used six sweaters for the blanket. It went together pretty quickly, and the kids were very excited to help place the pieces. Everyone was already fighting over it before it was even done.

I had planned to lap the edges, but kind of forgot that plan until midway through. Oh well. Next blanket, maybe. I already have some cashmere pieces waiting.

Personally I like all the little weirdnesses of sweater pieces, the rolled edges, the seams and ribbing here and there. And it’s kind of nice to have a “smooth” side and a “wrong side.” I like them both.

For sewing the pieces together, I used (I think) a regular machine needle and upped the stitch length a bit. I had no problems with it. If you want specific instructions for sewing a cashmere sweater blanket, check out Betz White’s book Warm Fuzzies.

Random: love loved this fire and ice birthday party over at elsie marley. Almost makes me want to live in a frozen place again.

Also, has anyone been watching Parade’s End on HBO? I can’t fully follow the storyline, but wow, the clothes are incredible!

And lastly, next week I’ll be introducing you to a friend of mine, artist/ photographer Dawn Hanna. So excited! Her work is drop-dead gorgeous.

Okay, folks. Have a great weekend.

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A recent Freakonomics radio piece about negative performance feedback got me thinking about what sort of critiques authors need for their work.

According to Freakonomics, people who are just starting in a career or position need positive feedback more than anything else. It helps to get them invested in their work, and it boosts their commitment to the task--which they need. That made me think of the large critique groups that many writers belong to, when they are first getting serious about their work. While you can get very valuable critical feedback in those groups, I think they mostly function as a place to get encouragement about your writing, and the inspiration to keep going. And that's perfect... when you are new to writing. 

But once people have committed to a career and they've seen success, then their needs for feedback shift, according to the radio piece. They tend to wave off positive feedback. Instead they need negative feedback (or as the corporate world prefers to call it, "performance feedback") to improve. Without that feedback they might not progress. I think that's largely true for writers, too. At some point you need deeper, more critical feedback about your writing--the kind of feedback that truly challenges you and pushes you to take your writing to the next level. That often means people either quit their larger critique groups or, at a minimum, end up finding additional critique resources elsewhere.

Which brings me to another favorite Freakonomics piece of mine--The Upside of Quitting. If your writing is progressing and your critique group isn't working for you anymore, set aside the guilt. Kindly and gently disentangle yourself. Likely you've made friends with everyone in the group, but remember why you joined in the first place: to be a better writer. A published writer, probably. 

The radio piece raised some additional questions for me. What happens when an author stops seeking critical feedback? Does their work truly stagnate, or can they reach a point of being able to self-improve? How do authors who are very accomplished find that trusted critical resource? Hopefully an editor (and likely also an agent) will serve in that role, but who else can help? And what is the best qualification for a good critique: someone who is unflinchingly honest, or someone who's a better writer than you?

Writers, what's your best resource for critiques that make you grow?

 

 

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I am sick of should. 

Mind you, I am very good at should. I tick off my "shoulds" every day. I parent. I exercise. I write. I work. I cook. I clean. Hey, I even go to my congregation's services sometimes. And take a probiotic every single day.

See? Really, really good at should. 

But somewhere along the way, that's all I have become. Figure out the should. Do the should. Find the next should. 

So of course that's what I tried to do today, when I sat down to launch a new writing project... or perhaps resume a half-finished one. I made a list of what the project should be. Then I made a plan for how I should get it done. 

But it didn't make me feel good. It only panicked me. Here was a huge list of shoulds staring at me, to be added to the already colossal weight of other shoulds in my life. 

I can't take more should.

So I am trying something new--something I have never done before, at least not since I sold my first novel. 

I am only going to write what I feel like writing. 

That means, unless I feel like it, there will be no plot outlines and no writing in sequence. I will work on as many projects as I want. Heck, if I don't want to even finish a chapter, I won't. When I'm done with it or I'm sick of it, I'll stop. 

Do you know how crazy this is for me? Do you know how scared and thrilled and hopeful this has got me feeling? Maybe this is a regular day of writing for some folks. But for this hyperorganized, Type A girl... it's revolutionary. 

But of course, being Type A, I have to put boundaries on this. I'm being crazy, people. Not an entirely new person!

RULE 1: I will do this for 40 calendar days. Why 40? It's one of those magic numbers. Pick a major world religion and it's there, hanging out in some of the best stories. And it's more than a month. It gives me time to really sink into this.  Plus, that is exactly how many days there are between now and when I sit down to my writing desk at Kindling Words West. This seems like a perfect way to prepare for that... and KWW will be a perfect place to reflect on the meaning of, and value from, my 40 days.

RULE 2: This is not an excuse to start learning the harmonica. In other words, my writing time is still sacred. It's still about writing. There's just no rules about what kind of writing, or reading about writing, etc will happen during that time. 

RULE 3: Even the 40 days is not sacred. I can't let this become a new should. If I want to stop the wandering sooner, I will. And if I want to wander for longer, I will. I do this for as long as it works and for as long as I need it. 

There is an Arabic proverb that says "To understand a people, you must live among them for 40 days". I hope that these 40 days will give a more clear understanding of who I am, as a writer, and where I want to go next.

Stay tuned for updates on my 40 days. 

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go on and shop for your character!Until you've got characters that seems to exhale the letters onto your page, you don't have a great story. Here are five crazy things I've done to try and get to know my characters:

1. Interview them. I'll sit on the couch, turn as if there's someone curled up next to me, and ask questions out loud. Sometimes I'll even answer them out loud, as if I were my character. I keep my iPad close so I can jot down the answers that come. This method can really "unstick" me and often works better than simply filling out character questionnaires on my laptop. 

2. Rant and rave out loud--as your character. Think about something that enrages or frightens your character. Then talk like them. Out loud. For at least fifteen minutes. In an accent, if applicable (and hopefully it is, because that is WAY more fun). At first you'll feel reluctant and more than a little strange. But as you progress, you'll discover new things about your character--and you might even go longer than fifteen minutes. 

3. Put on a play. I'll admit I stole this one straight from Meg Cabot. Except I don't have any Barbies left, having sold them off for a buck a piece at a yard sale twenty-five years ago. So I steal my son's stuffed animals and assemble a little play. It's amazing how making a stuffed pig yell at a stuffed wombat can really get to the root of my characters' needs and fears.

4. Write them a letter. Pretend you are a good friend or parent of the character. Write them a letter. Express your worries. Your confusion. Ask questions about their motives. Be a nudge and tell them how you think they should fix their problems. This can be a great way to surface the questions you've got about your characters--questions you may not have even known were there.

5. Go shopping for them. I got this idea from a speech that Paula Danziger gave to a Florida SCBWI conference years ago. She always liked to buy little sparkly geegaws and such for her characters. But you don't even have to buy things. Just get yourself to the nearest main street, mall or laptop, and browse for things that your character would love--or at least need. This lets you crawl out of your own head and see the world through their eyes instead. Heck, why not make a Pinterest board for them? But, uh, don't actually buy that renovated circus train car. Not unless you really, really need it.

 

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I had to whip up something quick for my daughter’s Wax Museum Day at school. This is a grade-wide project where the students read a biography, dress up like their historical figure, and prepare remarks to present to visitors.

The students are supposed to stand still like wax figures until a parent gives them a ticket. Then they animate and introduce themselves as “so-and-so.” It’s so totally cute I can’t even tell you. I’m partial to the costumes involving mustaches.

Little Miss wanted to be a princess, of course, so she chose Russian princess Anastasia Romanov. We went to the thrift store and chose some pieces to alter.

The key elements, we decided, were a white flowy dress with a square neckline, plus pearls. I flipped the blouse backward, sized it down, and made a square neckline using a tutorial I can no longer find. It wasn’t as difficult as it might sound—-actually pretty easy. The skirt I just sized down but left otherwise as-is.

Then I added, at her request, a sash made from blanket binding. It was once a part of this costume but got accidentally ripped off. I also made a little medallion from lightweight cardboard and sequins.

She did a great job with her presentation and is now reading everything she can about Anastasia. I guess we should try that movie that was made in the 90s, although I’m sure it’s more fiction than not.

Did you go away for spring break? We visited family in California and went skiing. It was a blast, but coming back to East Coast time is not. Oh well, it was worth it!

* The Anastasia image is from Wikipedia.

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The four most common character conflicts in stories are: man vs. man, man vs. nature, man vs. society, and man vs. himself. 

The single most common character conflict in suspense/mystery novels is man vs. man. This is usually seen through serial killers, murder investigations, assassination plots, etc. One character is battling against another character in the story. 

There's plenty of this in DEAD MAN`S HAND, but I also wanted to add another element to entertain readers. 

The central theme of DMH is the plot built around framing Calvin Watters for murder. Calvin spends the story evading the cops, as well as a hitman, while trying to solve the crime and prove his innocence. (Man vs. Man, right?) 

But I truly believe that the major character conflict in my story is Calvin vs. himself. 

Calvin Watters was on his way to NFL stardom when a sudden, selfish decision destroyed any dream he ever had. He remembered when the rich had welcomed him into their group as a promising, clean-cut athlete bound for glory. Now he was just an outsider looking in. Just another thug. 

Pain bolted through his right knee, but the emotional pain from a shattered ego hurt even worse. He was the only one to blame for USC's humiliating loss and his own humiliating personal downfall. 

The press, always ready to tear down a hero, had shown no restraint in attacking him for his egotistic, selfish decision and obvious desire to break his own school record. One minute he was touted as the next Walter Payton, the next he was a door mat for local media. 

Looking at him now, no one would believe that back then he was a thousand-yard rusher in the NCAA and welcomed with open arms in every established club in Southern California. Hell, he had been bigger than the mayor. 

That the resulting injury had ended his college football career and most importantly, any chances of a pro career didn’t matter to anyone. By making the wrong, selfish, prideful decision, he’d made himself a target for the press and all USC fans. 

The devastating, career-ending knee injury wasn't the quarterback's fault for missing the audible, or the fullback's fault for missing the key block. It was his and it had taken him some time to understand and accept responsibility for it. 

After he spent three years building a reputation as the toughest collector in Vegas, no one even knew he'd been one of the greatest college running backs ever. To them, he was just “The Collector.” 

Now Calvin has to rebuild his life and his future, eliminating the thoughts of his downfall, picking himself up, dusting off, and trying to live a respectable life he can be proud of. 

But has his time as a leg-breaker made him corrupt beyond redemption?

________________________________________________________________

Luke Murphy lives in Shawville, Quebec with his wife, two daughters and pug. He played six years of professional hockey before retiring in 2006. Since then, he’s held a number of jobs, from sports columnist to radio journalist, before earning his Bachelor of Education degree (Magna Cum Laude). Murphy`s debut novel, Dead Man`s Hand, was released by Imajin Books on October 20, 2012.

DEAD MAN'S HAND "A fast, gritty ride." www.amazon.com/Dead-Mans-Hand-ebook/dp/B009OUT2ME

For more information on Luke and his books, visit: www.authorlukemurphy.com

Facebook page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Luke-Murphy/268343729930467

Twitter www.twitter.com/#!/AuthorLMurphy

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It’s stupid. Why should I care? The encounter between two people who truly long for each other, who have been kept apart then finally come together, is far more intriguing. Couples who have a history that reunite or make up are more interesting than random rutters.

2) Random violence.

Killing one character I've grown invested in is more compelling than blasting away with an automatic weapon downing characters I don’t know or care about. It's a fact of human nature that genocide in a distant land doesn't register until the battle is brought to a person's front door. The closer the character who dies is to the protagonist, the higher the story stakes. As much as I love cozy mysteries, there's almost a disconnect when it comes to the victims. The best cozy mystery makes me care that the victim died.

3) Gore.

It’s a turn off. As much as I appreciate special effects makeup artists, they can use their talents to make cooler effects that don’t involve rolling heads or spurting arteries. In books, I really don’t need paragraphs of gruesome details. I scan past them. Same with torture and battle scenes. They make me cringe. I'm a grown-up. I have experienced loss and pain. I get the drift. The reality that people are bestial and kill each other is disgusting and horrifying enough. We never followed Anne Frank to the concentration camp, but the reality of the horror of that story scarred me for life. Why? Because I grew to know and like her and that made what she went through personal rather than abstract. If you want to impress upon your readers true horror, make it personal.

4) Drawn out panoramic shots.

Whether it’s a prolonged movie clip or endless paragraphs describing the setting in excessive detail, I have a tendency to fast forward or skim read past them. Take a picture; it lasts longer. Have you ever sat through an endless slideshow of someone else's vacation? Make description short and make it count, then move onto the point of the scene. It's even better if the setting has an impact on the scene.

5) Adults or teens that behave like out of control toddlers.

Book or movie, I have no patience with these characters. I wouldn't hang out with them in person. I don't waste page time with them either. If this character is the protagonist, I put the book down and it goes on my discard pile.

What tropes inspire you to flip pages or quit reading?

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Every year at our congregation there's a holiday party between the two services, which offers kids the chance to make cards for sick kids, donate mittens to the mitten tree, roll up little goodies in crepe paper streamers that become Joy Balls intended for parents' stockings.  But you know what they head for first, don't you?  It's the graham cracker "gingerbread" house station, which gets its own whole room.

Both kids took quite a bit of time and effort over theirs this year (Duncan's being thatched with red licorice whips and then further shingled with brown M&Ms. There has been a lot of damaging weather this year and you just can't be too careful in a time of climate change), and on the way home in the car ("MOM!  Would you mind driving a little more carefully!") they commented on the less designed, less elegant approach of some fellow architects. 

"Most of them end up looking like sheds more than houses!"

***************************


all you did.
gumdropsskittlescandycanes--
your eyes say “Rush me to Insane.”

Heidi Mordhorst 2012
DRAFT


Postscript:  Duncan pronounces this "the best thing you've written in a long time.  It rhymes and it tells the ideas in a way I can comprehend!"  I guess my campaign in defense of sensitive free verse for children is not over.

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One of the things I think has made Gillian Flynn's GONE GIRL so successful is voice.

Voice is always one of those tricky things. Scholastic editor Cheryl Klein defines it "by using the formula VOICE = PERSON + TENSE + PROSODY + (Diction + Syntax + Tone + Imagination + Details). Defining the imagination of Voice, Cheryl says, '[t]he imagination of a voice sets the range of subjects, images, diction, kinds of and examples of figurative language, and references that the voice can include.'”

Agent and author Donald Maass says voice is "the thing...every novelist already has... . It may be comic, deadpan, dry, pulpy, shrill, objective, distant, intimate, arty or a thousand other things. It comes through in the story that an author chooses to tell and the way in which they choose to tell it."

Here are some quotes I highlighted while reading GONE GIRL. You'll notice they're not big statements on the plot (except for the last one, which sums up the entire story in all its twisted wonder), but tiny observations -- metaphors used to paint a picture of characters, of setting, small things that were fresh and interesting and right. In other words, great examples of voice.

characterization and metaphor:
"They have no hard edges with each other, no spiny conflicts, they ride through life like conjoined jellyfish -- expanding and contracting instinctively, filling each other's spaces liquidly. Making it look easy, the soul-mate thing." (p 27)

setting and metaphor:
"It was the best time of day, the July sky cloudless, the slowly setting sun a spotlight on the east, turning everything golden and lush, a Flemish painting." (p 31)

characterization:
"His shirt wasn't wrinkled, but he wore it like it was; he looked like he should stink of cigarettes and sour coffee, even though he didn't. He smelled like Dial soap." (p 33)

characterization and metaphor:
"He spoke in a soft, soothing voice, a voice wearing a cardigan." (p 199)

and the quote that sums up the entire crazy ride:
"Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world's sweetest cancer." (p 392)

Have you read GONE GIRL? What were your impressions? Any other authors or books that get voice just right?

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This is one of those last-minute inspirations that happened to work out. I was trimming bits from a Christmas sewing project (to be pictured later) and had all these great strips of cheery prints. It seemed a shame to waste them.

I grabbed a balloon, blew it up just a little (you could do a bigger version if you wanted) and tied it off. Then I made a water-and-Elmer’s-glue mixture, dipped the strips, and wrapped them around the balloon, just like papier mache—-only one layer of strips, though. I left a few holes here and there, but if I had to do it again, I’d leave more holes for effect.

This would be a great quick craft to do with older children, though of course you have to be able to stomach glue mess. Not a problem in my case.

Family members who shall remain nameless were skeptical, but in the morning, when the glue was dry and the balloon popped, it DID actually detach from the cloth and leave this little egg-shaped vessel. It could’ve dried a bit more, though. Make sure it’s dried ALL the way for best results.

Then you just make a thread hoop/hanger thingy and presto! change-o! You’re done.

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I’d been wanting to do this for ages and finally tried it. There are lots of ways it’s been done—-most notably, of course, Japanese furoshiki. And there’s lots of ways I’d like to try making wrapping cloths, but this time, I just made a simple rolled hem on rectangles of fabric. Directions for “cheater” rolled hemming here. Thank you, Pinterest for that great tutorial via Meg of elsiemarley.com.

The Santa and angel fabrics are thrifted linens (already hemmed) from my favorite thrift shop in Hannover, Germany where we lived the last couple of years. And the new green and red stripey fabric is from Joann’s.

To wrap, I just folded the fabric and held it in place with the ribbon. Easy peasy. They wouldn’t hold up to a toddler’s inspection, but they’ll work fine for us.

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I have nothing to share about writing that is earth-shattering. What you’ll read here you probably already know. But like it is with all important things in our lives, it doesn’t hurt to hear certain things more than once. Here goes:

Read widely
Often writers are told to be well-versed in their genre. This is excellent advice, but reading shouldn’t end there. Picking up books in genres other than your own brings freshness to your writing and strengthens what you ultimately create. This nourishes you as a reader, too.

Study craft
None of us ever arrives. Our writing will improve if we continue to read craft blogs and books and take advantage of classes, critique groups, or conferences. Here are a few books I’ve read recently, am working on now, or plan to pick up this next year:
The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction -- James Alexander Thom
Second Sight: An Editor's Talks on Writing, Revising, and Publishing Books for Children and Young Adults -- Cheryl Klein
Writing the Breakout Novel -- Donald Mass
Reading Like a Writer: A Guide for People Who Love Books and for Those Who Want to Write Them -- Francine Prose
Writing Irresistible Kidlit -- Mary Kole
Writing Picture Books: A Hands-On Guide from Story Creation to Publication -- Ann Whitford Paul

Take time away from writing
Make sure you are doing things outside of writing. Now that I write full-time, it’s very easy to stay detached from the rest of the world. Make an effort to engage your surroundings, whether that means tuning in to nature as you walk the dog or making a point to get involved in a new activity.

How do you nurture your writing life?

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I scooped up these beauties at the last Waldorf craft basar we attended in Germany. I got them as much for myself as for the kids.

Don’t the stove and tiny pot, just like, kill you? I realize it’s hard to tell the scale here, but the pot has about the same circumference as an acorn top. I’m powerless before this kind of stuff. Makes me want to take up whittling, because, you know, I totally need another creative hobby.

Acorn dishes!

A teensy Fair Isle cape!

I think one of the things I like best about these is the bark. For some reason it never occurs to me to make things out of actual sticks from trees.

Hope you had a good weekend. I’m pressing forward on my novel revisions, though I had a reminder this morning of just how slow I am when I looked at where I was last year this same week. Yipes!

Are you in a reflective mood about what you’ve done over the past year? Celebrating goals met? Making new ones?

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If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you may recognize this project. I started it a short four years ago. Four?! I finally finished it!! *Happy dance*

For those of you who are new (and btw, welcome new subscribers!) or don’t remember the project, it’s my take on an Amy Butler pattern in her book In Stitches. She calls it the “Patchwork Duvet Cover.” Mine is a bit different from the original pattern, mainly in the placement of the ovals and the background fabric.

This project took so long for many reasons. I got sick of it many times, and by the end I almost gave up because a) I wasn’t sure I liked the color scheme anymore and b) The oval appliques were giving me such a headache when I tried to sew them on.

My hubs wanted me to finish it, though, so I changed my machine needle and soldiered ahead, and now I’m glad. After putting it on the bed, the patchwork has grown on me, as out-of-favor crafty projects sometimes do. Here’s to perserverance!

For more info on this project in its earlier stages, check out this post and this one. The fabric was all upcycled, with the background made from twin duvet covers and the patterned fabric from thrift store finds, one of them over-dyed to suit.

If you want to see my other patchwork projects, check out this one and this one.

And oh yes, that painting is by yours truly. More info on it here.

Hope you had a great holiday weekend. I’ve had some unexpected sustained writing time, which has been great.

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