“Most highly successful people carry around a bulky legacy of failures, humiliations, and dumb actions. The truly wise ones know that these potholes are not necessarily behind them. What this means is that they allowed nothing kill their will to succeed. And while they may have made countless mistakes, it’s unlikely that they ever made the same mistake twice, once they learned the lesson.
Evolution teaches us that the universe kills stagnation and encourages mutation. Most successful people have mutated themselves many times. Their only other choice was to become yesterday’s newspaper.” Jeff Herman
File under I for Inspiration
I think there are two types of writers, the architects and the gardeners. The architects plan everything ahead of time, like an architect building a house. They know how many rooms are going to be in the house, what kind of roof they’re going to have, where the wires are going to run, what kind of plumbing there’s going to be. They have the whole thing designed and blueprinted out before they even nail the first board up. The gardeners dig a hole, drop in a seed and water it. They kind of know what seed it is, they know if planted a fantasy seed or mystery seed or whatever. But as the plant comes up and they water it, they don’t know how many branches it’s going to have, they find out as it grows. And I’m much more a gardener than an architect.
George R.R. Martin
Summer in Words 2013
Reminder: Registration is now open for Summer in Words 2013. You can find the registration form here.
Registrations are already coming in, so don’t delay–space is limited.
Our keynote speaker is Jonathon Evison. You’re going to love him. It’s going to be an especially helpful, potent and empowering (although I’m not crazy about that word) conference. Write to me if you need more details.
The Page Will Hold You Up
“Intention is the writer’s soul.” William Zinsser
Like many people there are parts I love about my life and parts I’m not so crazy about. The part I love is early mornings at my computer with the sky changing in the east, the click of the keyboard, the words that emerge unplanned. The quiet that descends into the deepest parts of me. The solace of writing.
I love that I am surrounded by creative types and writers and have met prolific, best-selling, soulful, talented and envy-inducing authors over the years. I’ve met most of these people at conferences I teach at and conferences that I host twice a year. It would be silly to name names here since these meetings don’t always culminate with friendship, but there have been so many profound moments when afterward I knew something in me changed and I walked away as if holding a rare, South Sea pearl.
We’ve shared meals and drinks and talked kids and politics and world affairs and the state of publishing, but mostly I’ve listened. Which doesn’t come naturally. I’ve sat in on sessions and keynote addresses that have brought me to tears, made me think deeply about the writing life, have changed me in ways both subtle and profound.
This past January I hosted my annual Making It in Changing Times Conference where Lidia Yuknavitch was my keynote speaker. She was speaking on The Worth of Risk. Now, I had interviewed Lidia a few months earlier about her writing process and had asked her hard questions about how to write deeply from a character’s viewpoint. Her answers were inspiring, her thoughts ocean deep and enchanting and practical all at once. She described how to write from the body, borrowing or possibly burrowing into your character’s physicality to make her voice true. She talked about feeling her character’s thighs when she, Lidia was at the desk writing. She described slipping stones under her pillow and other tricks of believing in the elements that surround us.
So naturally I was looking forward to hearing her speak. Lidia began talking about the times she’d fallen on her face from risk taking. Then she described the times she’d succeeded wildly. She’s now friends with a famous actor after boldly introducing herself at the Sundance Film Festival and she studied in a Masters writing class with Ken Kesey although she was an undergraduate student and sort of weaseled her way into his class. Kesey’s kindness and confidence in her was life changing.
As she warmed to her topic, revealed herself, I could sense the room leaning forward. Bursts of laughter and glances exchanged. But mostly a church stillness. Something powerful was happening as often does when writers gather. This something is difficult to express. The truths and joys and bruises of the writing life admitted to and celebrated.
Next, as she wrapped up her talk, she asked us what risks we take for our writing. I answered that I could write as though my mother was dead. A cruel-sounding proposition, but there you have it. She’s been my judge and jury my whole life, and although this role has faded over the years, even as she’s shrunk and is becoming lost to dementia, I sometimes feel her hot breath on my face, hear her familiar accusations.
Finally it was time for a question and answer period. One woman in the group kept insisting there were too many barriers to writing her memoir, to telling the truth. She explained that she lived in a small town, the people she would write about still were alive. And that’s when Lidia said, “Just write. The page will hold you up.” And with this simple truth it was as if everyone in the room exhaled then shifted into the same rhythm like a bird flock taking flight. Filled with grace. Soaring. 
©No portion of this essay may be reprinted without permission.
Breaking Out
Jessica Page Morrell©
Associate with all the smart, funny, talented, creative people you can, learn to write beautifully, but don’t stay locked in your room to do it: go out and try new things, meet new people, have a wonderful, rich, compelling, and interesting life — and then tell me about it in the most beautiful prose imaginable. Jeff Kleinman
A few years ago at the Willamette Writers conference I was talking with an agent, asking her if she’d heard any good pitches. It was Saturday morning and she was feeling hopeful since it was early in the game. So we chatted a bit, and talked about how the publishing industry has been undergoing changes over the years and she mentioned that it seemed that editors were either looking strictly for category books or the next unusual blockbuster novel. I asked her for an example and she mentioned Alice Sebold’s Lovely Bones which has also been purchased by director Peter Jackson.
Later I was talking with author Julie Fast about the biz as she prepped for her workshop on writing a bestselling nonfiction book. She’d been attending all the editor and agent panels and had jotted down their comments about the state of publishing. I mentioned that I wished beginning writers would keep in mind that the so-called rules for getting published are different for breakout and superstar writers than they are for break-in writers. And I’ve been thinking about this ever since.
If you have an urge toward storytelling or writing the newest how-to book and also want to hit the big time, here are a few things to consider. Let’s start with a few definitions. At the bottom of the publisher’s catalogue are backlist titles. These are older titles that aren’t red hot sellers but are kept in print because of steady sales and include lesser-selling genres like Westerns.
Midlist is a publishing term that means the titles occupy the biggest part of a publisher’s catalogue. These books are dependable sellers but not best sellers. If an author is called a midlist author it means he or she hasn’t written a bestseller yet, but his or her sales are good enough to justify publishing his books and buying more books from these authors. While the majority of books published are midlist, the majority of book sales don’t come from midlist because the big bucks come from best sellers such as the Harry Potter books. While being a midlist author might make some writers feel like Cinderella’s stepsister with big feet, the reality is that most midlist authors can make a living at it and can hope that perhaps after a few books or half a dozen books that they might break out.
Breakout means that a published author pole vaults from so-so sales of maybe 10,000 or 20,000 to mega sales. Dan Brown is a good example. After a mediocre career as a musician and composer in L.A. he returned to New Hampshire and a teaching gig at his old school and began writing. He sold three novels and two humor books, with small sales for all. Then his fourth novel The Da Vinci Code was published in 2003, sold 60,000 copies in the first week in print and skyrocketed to the top of The New York Times bestseller list. It has gone on to sell over 70 million copies. Needless to say, that’s a big time break out.
Generally a breakout book is somehow extraordinary. If you are like me and could not get past page 20 of The Da Vinci Code because the writing is lackluster at best, you’re probably wondering what makes a book break out. Often the book has a super tantalizing hook, creates strong reactions in readers, and is high concept, meaning that the essence of the story can be whittled down to a single sentence, can be understood by anyone, and the story or book idea explodes with meaning and intrigue. Both Lovely Bones and The Da Vinci Code are high concept.
The good news is that publishers are always on the lookout for breakout writers because they’re generally already polished or at least reliable writers and because they can buy their titles cheaper than they can buy from the big dogs. Breakout is synonymous with up and coming and can refer to memoirists, authors of how-to books, and novelists. In other words, they have the potential to become superstars and garner mega sales.
What gives a breakout author an edge is if they have an established platform such as a web site and other ways to attract readers and if the author is easy to work with. So turn in your manuscript pages on time and accept editing suggestions gracefully. These writers understand the business and will help all they can to boost sales. Other ways of breaking out include winning or being nominated for awards, sparkling reviews, and garnering a blurb from a household name such as Stephen King.
Sometimes a breakout will occur when an author switches genres as in the case of Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Haddon who is also a poet has written a number of children’s books. Everything about Haddon’s book is highly original especially the voice, that of an autistic boy and the puzzle about a dead dog at the center of the story. It also won several prizes and will be made into a movie.
A breakout book means the author has somehow upped his game with meatier or more sizzling or original content. Sometimes an author hits the big time and breaks out after only one or two books such as Jeannette Wells’ The Glass Castle or Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. Both books are memoirs.
Then there are the super star authors whose names are synonymous with bestseller. These are the folks that publishers put their money behind in printing thousands of copies, paying for multi-city book tours, and creating bookstore promo and display items. Publishers will also lavish money on promotions for breakout authors, but most often books break out because of word of mouth sales, winning awards, or being chosen by a major book club such as Oprah’s or ABC’s Good Morning which chose Lovely Bones. Often a publisher will be caught by surprise when a book breaks out and will rush more copies into print and start the promo machine rolling. Cheryl Strayed’s Wild is a good example of a break out book that has caused waves of success and recognition. Another is Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl. Both are being made into movies.
Celebrity books are another sales category and include writers such as the Clintons. Publishers will also lavish big bucks behind selling their books because of name recognition.
The superstar category are the writers who have sold millions of books. No matter what they write, and that means even if it’s drek, they will land a book deal and the publisher will print thousands or millions of copies. These big dogs include the late Michael Crichton, John Grisham, Stephen King, J. K. Rowling, Ann Rice, James Patterson, Tom Clancy, and Nicholas Spark. You can also throw in best-selling authors like Dean Koontz, Catherine Coulter, Diana Gabaldon, George R.R. Martin and Norah Roberts into this crowd. Typically their name on the cover guarantees sales and their books often are often turned into movies.
Now, my list of mega stars is probably short–writers I’ll read no matter what they publish. My latest mega star is Jess Walter. Some of these authors write great books, some of these authors write a mix of great books and so-so books. It does you no good to compare your writing to any breakout because your writing needs to be better than theirs. Which is the point of this column.
One last thing. Often when I’m teaching a workshop a writer will pipe up with an example from Thackeray or Henry James or Faulkner to dispute some point I’m making about craft or rewriting or getting published. Here’s what I think: there is no one right way to write, but there are thousands of ways to write poorly and make mistakes in your career. While all authors are wise to read the classics, you’re wiser to read breakout books and puzzle out what sets them apart from the author’s previous works and try to somehow emulate them.
Summer in Words Writing Conference 2013
Imagine Write Publish
Registration begins March 15
Dates: June 21-23
Cannon Beach, Oregon
For updates check here.
Bitter Truth # 8
Bitter Truth # 8
Someone is always going to write better than you.
Make that a lot of someones. And I’m not talking about famous dead authors and Pulitzer Prize winners or high up there writers you can never hope to meet. I’m talking about the cranky oldster in your writing group or the whippersnapper prodigy down the block. Or the woman across town who just landed the 7-figure advance. Since there are millions of people working at writing these days there are bound to be many that write better than you.
You can dwell on this, allow envy to make you judgy and twitchy, or you can acknowledge the facts and write anyway. You see writing brings a lot of joy and solace into our lives, but then along with those cheery aspects there is anxiety, doubt, and envy.
And envy, my friends, is a bitch. It’s your true enemy who needs to be shown the door.
Now you can wallow in envy, or you can write anyway. You can curse the fates that your work will never appear in the New Yorker, or you can keep writing. Then write some more. Especially on those days when your writing path is potholed and your creativity is choked, this offers little consolation. Keep at it. Write for love, to witness, to capture truth, or simply to tell a great story. Without looking over your shoulder at the competition, without feelings of jealousy, or competition.
This isn’t fifth grade. This is the writing life. Play the long game.
Write From Your Soft Parts
©Jessica P. Morrell
“Tears are words that need to be written.” – Paul Coehlo
Church scholars are uncertain about the identity of Saint Valentine. The confusion exists because there are several Valentines who are linked to February 14. It’s commonly accepted that is that he was the bishop of Terni; he was beheaded in Rome because of his faith and buried in Terni. It was observed that birds started mating on the anniversary of his death and that this is why he became the patron saint of lovers.
As the holiday approaches, let’s ruminate about writing about love and, relationships. Let’s get it right. I’ve read love scenes that had me sweaty, yearning, and stirred with emotion. I’ve read love scenes that were about as romantic as Naugahyde upholstery. In a dumpy diner.I’ve read stories where relationships are sparked like dry tinder in August. They begin with a chance meeting in, say, the produce aisle. The couple shares a joke over a cabbage and next thing we know, they’re bonded and bonding, if you get my drift. Not to mention cooking together. No in between stages or trials. Kiss, kiss, bang, bang.
The problem is that readers want to experience a couple’s emotional chemistry and also want to participate in the ups, downs, and travails of love. You, writer friends, need to write about a special and always-mysterious bond that exists between couples. But love isn’t always sublime, especially on the page. It’s often not the solace we all crave, that soft place in the world we all need. You need to delve into the difficult parts of love; expose the graceless, the awful, the words that cannot be taken back, the horrible emotional purgatory of not knowing if your love is returned in the beginning stages of a relationship.
When a romance is prominently featured in a story
both characters will have an acute awareness of the other. The story exposes their vulnerabilities and because of this, write from the softest, most vulnerable part of you. Write from the times when you were crying in the dark alone feeling like the last person stranded on a faraway planet. Now that’s not to say that you cannot write from your happy memories, or that your characters cannot make it to the altar. Or the bedroom. For example, write from the memories of joy and awe when you first met a newborn. But love always stems from a deep-held need for acceptance and belonging. And those feelings make us vulnerable. Writing about love requires that you put your own emotions into the scenes and create a tender double edge and sometimes a jagged edge.
Science has identified the human need to connect, belong, and bond. Like many instincts, these drives hearken to long-ago times when humans stuck together to increase their odds for survival. Hunting, traveling, fighting, all work better in a group. A group provided possible mates, which then provided children. But the truth is that cooperative tribes, happy families, sweet, lasting relationships can be found more often in books than in real life. So you gotta give readers what they long for.
Which brings us back to writing about love. Since these days badly-written porn passes for literature, you might be tempted to steam up your story with naughty and daring sexual exploits. This supposes that we all want to peer into not only the bedroom, but a room of forbidden appetites. But love comes in so many forms. Only you can decide to risk writing a sex scene that ignites like fire spreading or if you write best from your comfort zone.
It can be helpful to think back to the moments when you first experienced love or a blinding crush. You might want to play the music of that era or find other ways to bring on potent memories. A boy in high school shattered my heart and my longing for him was a physical ache. I dreaded passing him in the hallways, clutching his new girlfriend. The one I was convinced was prettier than me. He was a tall wrestler with crooked teeth and curly dark hair, with no interest in reading or writing, my life-long passions. I was already an editor who wrote angst-blooming poems trapped in a world without operating instructions. It was misery and luckily we were doomed from the get-go. My high school boyfriend turned out to be a much smarter and kinder person.
In fiction start the relationship with a foundation based on back story, an inciting incident, or a believable set up. Is the relationship based on friendship? {Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger)} A misunderstanding or adversarial meeting? {When Harry Met Sally}Adversity? {The African Queen}After the set up with outcomes dangling, trust fragile; then build in sexual tension. Next, stir in complications and reversals such as miscommunication, lies, separation, or betrayal. But remember that readers always long for the release of that initial sexual tension and sexual tension is tied to conflict.
Whatever weight a romance plays in the story, respect your readers who spend time with your characters. Give them what you’ve promised. If you’ve promised a romance, bring it on. If you’ve established a steamy, passionate dynamic, deliver it with damp sheets included. If the characters are drama magnets, stir in extra heartbreak. Readers expect some form of change: The characters change, the situation changes, or leads to disappointment or tragedy. If your story doesn’t deliver what the opening promises, then your readers won’t return for your next story.
Writing about love is difficult because words can seem inadequate, sexual tension is difficult to portray and love scenes are action scenes with lots of, uhm, moving parts. Always a tricky proposition. When you write avoid the clinical, instead set the mood for yourself. Play music, light candles,{and for the ladies} spray perfume, slip into fabulous lingerie and tippy heels. Then write from the heart.
Here are a few more tips:
- Always know how your character’s last relationship ended.
- Create warring emotions in your characters. Desire and doubt. Or logic versus longing.
- Take your characters into new emotional territory. It’s okay if it’s awkward.
- Know the characters’ motivations: lust, culminating love, desperation.
- Work hard at just the right dialogue — not too much, heavy on subtext. Feature power struggles, challenges, capitulations.
- Emphasize the senses, especially touch. Feature contrasts.
- Avoid creating sex scenes happening in unlikely moments — such as when your characters are running for their lives.
- Use sex as game changer.
- Write love scenes that seem to exist outside of time.
- Skip the purple prose and corny euphemisms.
- If the romance is a subplot, plan the emotional nadir at the end of Act Two. Hitting love’s rock bottom adds emotional depth to the story.
- Use language that your characters would use.
- Read the Modern Love column in The New York Times. These tales of the heart are required research.
- Write for appropriately for the genre. Horror, suspense, thrillers need varying levels of realism in the romance subplot. Is it used for relief of tension? To prove the protagonist is human? To expose the protagonist to more danger?
- Last and not least: Do not defy gravity.
Still time to register for Making it in Changing Times mini conference
It’s crucial that writers keep on top of what’s happening in the publishing world. Especially in these days of dizzying changes and wide-open opportunities. With this in mind, every January, the Making It in Changing Times Mini-Conference brings together writers and some of the Northwest’s most accomplished authors and teachers. Our purpose is to outline options for getting published, teach craft to improve your writing, and provide savvy to succeed in today’s fiercely competitive market.
Participants can expect encouragement, expertise, insights, and inspiration. The information provided is especially practical and can be immediately put to use.
Keynote address: Lidia Yuknavitch, The Worth of Risk
Also featuring Jessica Morrell, Deborah Reed, Gigi Rosenberg and Kevin Sampsell
Saturday, January 26th, 8:30-5:30
Tabor Space, 5441 S.E. Belmont, Portland, Oregon
Cost: $99 includes Continental breakfast and lunch
Complete schedule is at www.jessicamorrell.com/?page_id=45
Contact Jessica Morrell conference coordinator at jessicapage (at)spiritone(dot)com
About our keynote speaker: Lidia Yuknavitch is the author of the anti-memoir The Chronology of Water, the novel Dora: A Headcase: A Modern Farce, three books of short stories and a book of literary criticism on war and narrative. She is the founder of chiasmus press, she doesn’t see much of a distinction between genres any longer, she publishes widely and without apology, and she is a very, very good swimmer.
The Risk of Worth: What are the risks worth taking on the page and in the world? How do we evolve the art and practice of writing without losing heart? There are some risks worth taking and some risks that are merely a trompe l’oeil…from page to world and back again. Find out more about Lidia at lidiayuknavitch.net
Bitter Truth # 7
Bitter truth # 6:
Whereby I espouse cautionary tales about the writing life.
Balance might not be possible all the time.
For years now I’ve heard much talk about balance, as in work-life balance. For years I also pursued it and actually still do. Each person has his or her own definition of this oft-elusive quality. For some it might mean exercising more and fretting less. Or spending that elusive quality time with their kids. For me it means that whatever I’m doing, I’m not fretting that I should be doing something else. So that I can be present with the moment.
Most people I know are trying not to chase so much. They want to settle into themselves, slow down, relish each day.
If you’re a writer, all that lovely balance we long for, strive for, work towards, might not always be possible. Writing takes a lot of time. Hour after hour, day after day. Sometimes progress happens so slow that the frustration feels unbearable. The pain too large. The end too far away. And let’s not get started on how easy it is to obsess or fall into envy at other writers’ successes.
Meanwhile, while you’re holed up in your garret du jour, the world is shimmying past without you, horns blaring, parties jollying along. If you’re the kind of person who needs lots of downtime, parties, friends, vacations, and sleep…..well, writing might not work out for you. If you spend hours on Pinterest or Facebook or tweeting or watching television….you might need to rethink that time spent or the writing won’t get done. Writing has to come first before that stuff, including sleep. Writing needs the attention that you give a new love, a marriage, a baby.
It will be wrenching at times to miss the gang’s weekly gatherings or your favorite team’s home games. You will spend freaky amounts of time alone when you have a deadline or the writing is pouring out like a lava flow. You’ll look up from your computer and an afternoon or a season will have passed. One of my author friend lives in her pajamas for a month before a deadline. Another jokes that food needs to be passed under the door to her office.
Balance is lovely, juggling is normal. Perhaps a better wish for the writing life is flexibility. You develop a dailiness, a practice, a mindset. Then, if tragedy strikes, you take a bit of time away (while still taking quick notes on the rawness of your emotions) and you return. If the holidays mean nonstop commitment, you get up early and sit in the quiet and write before the day blasts off.
The bitter truth is that you will need to give up something fun in order to write. I would love to learn to knit. Cannot do it now—too many books and columns to write. I would also love to learn how to watercolor, and travel the oceans blue. Ain’t going to happen. Instead, I’m going to learn more about the birds in my backyard, I’m going to garden as a means to let my mind wander, I’m going to nurture a calm inward life.
One last thing: When you’re not writing, don’t write. Let the story or project you’re working on simmer below in your subconscious. Focus on what’s at hand. The imagination needs downtime in order to produce the most glorious stories.







