shakespearemom

Here’s another writing activity, and it stems from what I’ve seen in most poetry. If you teach literature–and I do–or if you’ve had several literature classes–and I have–you’ll know the tendency in most poetry in our established canon involves several assumptions:

1. Most poetry isn’t funny.

2.  Most poetry is about lofty subjects, involving nature, mythology/religion, love, etc.

3.  Most poetry involves heroic ideal, heroes, and heroic events.

However, in the last century, poetry has become a bit different. Maurice Sendak and others have brought whimsy and humor back into it (although many poems which do not make the traditional canon are also humorous), and other poets have made poetry less heroic in general, more about ordinary people, sometimes even forgettable ones, if not for the poem about them (I think of Eliot’s “Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”). 

Now it’s your turn. Think of someone or some situation which seems highly unlikely for a poem to be written about. Write a short “ode” to something that most would never consider worth writing about. Most of all, make it silly. Don’t try to be serious with it unless being serious makes it even sillier (think mock-heroic). 

Here’s mine, two poems about my kids:

Crystal, age 2

Two eyes, innocent

Looking up from limpid pools

Of maple syrup.

Brandon, Age 2

I knew a daredevil named Brandon

Who jumped off with nothing to land on.

He cut up his head

Till I thought he was dead,

He wouldn’t let me lay a hand on.  

I also have an anti-love poem:

Love

You say you cannot love me

But you do

I know you do

Every action you take

Says so

The screams in my phone 

Tell me you are thinking about me

The lipstick smeared 

On my brand new couch 

Shows how much you 

Care what I think.

My clothes piled 

On the front lawn

Make it clear

To the whole world

How deeply I have

Entered your soul.

The whole world can see…

Why don’t you? 

Got any anti-poetry of your own? Share it!

It’s been a while since I gave you a writing exercise… and I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve played with anything (work, work, work–is that all there is?). So here goes:

This one comes from a game my sister and I played as children, taking nursery rhymes and making entirely new (short) poems out of them. Here are some examples, with the original listed first, and our new version listed next. Now, remember, we were in elementary school when we wrote these, but I’m still surprised by what we came up with:

Original version:

Jack be nimble

Jack be quick

Jack jump over the candlestick

Our version:

Jack be clumsy

Jack be slow

Jack trip over his own big toe.

The rhythm is the same… even the subject is similar, yet the poem has a completely different meaning (I think it’s more meaningful than the original).

Here’s another original, though not really a nursery rhyme:

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear

Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair

Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t fuzzy, was he?

Our version:

Fatty Watty was a toad

Fatty Watty got smashed on the road

Fatty Watty wasn’t fat after that. He was flat.

This time we played more with the concept, modifying the meter to suit what we wanted to say.

So, what versions might you come up with? You can probably remember some of your own silly kids’ rhymes, but in case you can’t, here are some examples to toy with. Feel free to choose one of these or one you remember, but in your posting, put the original in if it’s not one of these. Or let us try to guess what the original was… that would be cool, too.

Some to try:

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn

The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn

Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?

He’s under the haystack, fast asleep.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells

And pretty maids all in a row.

London Bridge is falling down

Falling down, falling down,

London Bridge is falling down,

My fair lady.

Three blind mice.

See how they run.

They all ran after the farmer’s wife

Who cut off their tails with a carving knife

Have you ever seen such a thing in your life

As three blind mice?

If you don’t like these, try something else. But keep it short, concise, and brainless… and have fun!

Despite what you may believe, I am not perfect.

Yes, I know what you may be thinking: “It can’t be! I thought she was! What’s going on here?!?”

But even I, the center of the universe, have issues. For one thing–and perhaps this stems from my extreme Piscean tendencies–I am scatterbrained to the extreme. I have difficulty focusing for five minutes on a game of Mahjongg. I respond to medications as if I had ADD, for stuff that is supposed to make me sleep keeps me wide awake, and perhaps there is a reason for that. I can’t seem to focus on anything for any real length of time. When I teach, I tend to shift gears several times over in a single class session–not for my students, but for myself, so that I don’t get bored. Yet I still lose focus easily. As one of my novel readers figured out, I can also forget whole characters as a novel goes on (eeeek!).

I also tend to write really crappy first drafts (I could call them worse, but I don’t want this blog to get even a PG rating)… unlike so many authors who seem to have near perfection the first go around. Would it save me a great deal of time if my drafts were great? Yup. But they aren’t, and ignoring that fact would not be to my benefit, for my first drafts would never get me anywhere as a writer. Besides, if I didn’t learn to revise my stuff, I wouldn’t improve much as a writer, either.

I have a long list of other weaknesses, but this is not a whining blog (not today, anyway), and the list would take too long. Besides, I’m sure, as you read through my own self-effacement, you are thinking of the weaknesses in your own writing (at least, I hope you are… I don’t want to be alone in this)… 

Now switch gears for a moment. Instead of looking at the “hole in your doughnut,” so to speak, look at the doughnut itself. What do you do well? One of my strengths is dialogue. I manage to create all sorts of suggested meaning in a single conversation… and that’s a skill I’m really building on. Each novel and play gets better at it. My dialogue reveals a great deal about the characters without exposition, without spelling out much at all. 

I’m also great at revision, for two reasons: 1) I don’t take myself too seriously. Nothing is so precious that it can’t be tossed in the trash. In fact, when I revise, I pull out whole scenes that don’t fit, putting them into another document so that I don’t feel as if I’m deleting them. Once the revision is over, I toss the document… and never regret doing it, either. 2) I am brilliant at ripping stuff apart. I pick and pick and pick at things, pulling out the stray strings, restitching the action… and it’s the same with everything I do, from cleaning to sewing to piano. If there is one thing I ain’t, it’s lazy. I won’t quit on something until I think it’s where I want it to be, or I can’t think of what to do to fix it (if the latter, I send it off to readers or sit on it, sometimes for years, until I’m ready to tackle it again). 

Now, when I write, I can easily get discouraged when something I write stinks… OR I can play to my strengths, and use those strengths to keep me working on something until it’s better. 

So, I’ve shown some of mine… what are your strengths? How do you play to them?

Ever notice how boring most of your life is? I should say “my life,” since all I have to go on is my own experience. I suppose I’m just hoping I’m not alone in this.

You see, although I sometimes get a rush from some cool opportunity I receive, like the Amazon.com contest or other such things, for the most part my life runs on a sort of boring flatline… week after week of the same boring things to do: dishes, meals, vacuuming, sweeping, cleaning bathrooms once a week (hopefully!), carting kids everywhere, bookkeeping at the church, and the list drones on. 

I have a list very like this one today, but it’s not really making me jump up and get to work. Perhaps that is why I’m writing this blog instead of starting in on the dishes. For the most part, I get up in the morning because I have kids to get ready, breakfast to make, babysitting to do (the kids I sit come around 7:30 a.m.), things to clean, etc. 

But I do, on occasion, have real reasons to get up in the morning. I have plays that call to me, scenes that my mind works through while I am sleeping, dreams that lead to short stories, poems, or subplots… I have goals to get to, dreams of what I want to become, of what I want to do with my life. I know “doing dishes” isn’t what I plan to have carved into my tombstone. I want to make a difference. 

I know I’ve written about this before, but perhaps this is my attempt to get myself going this morning–to do something real this week instead of just keeping my house clean. I have the morning off, sort of, since all the kids will be in school until nearly noon. Do I go to church and figure out quarterly taxes? Do I clean the toilets? Do I do dishes? Fold laundry? Sweep?

Or do I set all that aside and feed my soul a bit, revising a play or two, fixing a huge problem one of my readers discovered in the novel I turned in at Amazon.com? Do I tend to my soul today, or clean my kitchen?

By now I know the answer… do you? What will you choose today?

Well, surprise, surprise! A reader of my last blog discovered that three chapters of my novel Mariah’s Ark can be downloaded at Amazon.com for free… it seems I’ve made it to the Quarterfinals of the contest, one of 500 entries out of most likely 10,000 turned in (they only accepted the first 10,000). That puts me in the top 5%, doesn’t it? (I’m not very good at math… that’s why I write instead).

I knew I’d been reviewed by experts (that discovery was in my last blog), but I had no idea anyone else could read the first chapters. I also had no idea that meant I’d made it to the next level. Three people have reviewed the book so far, too, so I must have made it to a second level, or I don’t think the chapters would even be available. (Sorry, but I’m still so surprised, I’m not sure if I’ll discover I’ve made a mistake tomorrow).

So, if you’d like to know what I’m tooting my horn about, check out the page right HERE. You can download the chapters for free, and even leave a review of them. If nothing else, I’d like your feedback. I haven’t had enough people read the book yet, so every bit helps. And I’d really like to know what all of you think, too, since you are my loyal readers…

You’d think I’d be quicker at all of this. I must be jaded by all my lack of response over the years (except for the lovely photocopied form letters rejecting my submissions). I think the next level happens on April 15, so you have time to read and respond, but the sooner the better! You can create a review on Amazon.com yourself, so I know what you think.

Thanks to all who read part of “Mariah’s Ark”! I’m so excited!

So, two things happened on one day. Would you like the good news or the bad news? 

I’ll start with the bad: 

I’d applied for a college teaching job here in Seattle, at the college where I currently work. And I received this response: 

Dear Applicant,

Thank you for applying for this position at ________. The hiring committee has finished its initial screening. We regret to inform you that you were not selected for an interview. The job application process can be time consuming and we appreciate you taking time to apply for this position. We wish you well in your future endeavors, and hope that you will consider applying for other positions at __________. 

Yup, not even an interview. Not even a reference check. 

I could be resentful. I’m not. I could be pissed. Not even sort of. God was kind to me, for I was prevented from working for a place that didn’t want me and wouldn’t appreciate me. Besides, I also received this in my e-mail inbox, on the same day. It’s one of two reviews of my second novel, which I posted on the Amazon Breakthrough Novel contest website. The contest set up two “experts” to read it, and one said:

“Mariah’s Ark” is juvenile fiction targeting commonly shared teen problems: inferiority, low self-esteem concerns, sibling rivalry, and school performance. 

Each chapter is well-written, albeit in a colloquial country form, with deliberate use of bad grammar to make the Oklahoma farm setting realistic. The story is cohesive and flows smoothly. Mariah is the youngest of three sisters, suffering low self-esteem, thinking of herself as “nothing” and that no one else expects “nothing” from her. She hates to speak, and opts instead to ignore people or shrug her shoulders. The problem developed after an embarrassing episode when, in trying to outshine her older braggadocio sister, she misused a word. Constantly compared in school to her older sisters, Mariah rebels against her teachers’ expectations and shuns her classmates. 

The family is not involved in Mariah’s problems. Her parents share a secret, not revealed in the excerpt. Neither is the meaning of the title. The secret involves the barn where her father has been pre-occupied day and night since before her birth. No one is allowed inside the barn, but it is clear he is building something and both parents are afraid that the religious community will object to it. Her sisters, Sarah and Rachel, one married, the other a boy chaser, vie with one another for superiority, mostly ignoring Mariah. 

The author is a gifted writer. For example: 

Grasshoppers, butterflies, beetles, and other helpless  

creatures fell in, and even from where I was  

sitting, I could see them begin their death  

march, around and around the inside wall of  

the jars, slower and slower, as the fumes  

got to them. 

The story is captivating. What is the secret? How does it impact Mariah and the family? Does Mariah overcome her problems? Many teens will enjoy this gem.

Ah, to have one’s writing called “captivating.” You see, it just doesn’t get much better than that. 

So, I don’t get one job I applied for. Who cares? I’m printing off the two reviews of my book, since both were very good, and I’m going to paste them up on the walls of my writing room (when I get it) along with all my rejection letters. 

My writing room is going to look fantastic. 

Dear Readers:

I know you lead hard, busy lives. I know some of you are working two jobs, have kids, are seeking a degree, have illnesses in the family to deal with, have dishes to do, bring work home, and are otherwise feeling overwhelmed.

But, you see, that’s just it. You need a break from all of that, a way to rise above all that tedium for just a few minutes, to let your right brain free, if only for a moment, so that you can show the world the genius you are keeping so tightly reined in for days on end.

Yet all the tedious activities are winning out. You look at a writing exercise, and think, Well, I’d love to do that, but it would take about ten minutes to complete, and I could take a shower in that time, or fold a load of laundry, or unload the dishwasher, or call two clients, or give my kid a bath…and on and on. So you don’t respond. You don’t take the ten minutes to do something you truly love because you let it fall to the bottom of your list.

And meanwhile, your own novel bides its time on your laptop, waiting for you for weeks on end, without a change. And that novel wakes you up at night, calling to you like an overstuffed eclair, and though you cannot find the strength to resist the eclair (after all, who could?), you find the strength to turn over, face the wall, and put yourself back to sleep. After all, you say, if I don’t get enough sleep, I won’t get as much work done tomorrow.

January 1st is always the time for New Year’s resolutions… yet April 1st is better. Couldn’t you resolve to play–to be the fool–at least once a day for the rest of the year? I’m sure most of you have already given up on your New Year’s resolution (I haven’t, but I tend to stick to things), so let’s make a new one. Resolve to put at the TOP of your list one foolish, playful thing each and every day. Don’t allow yourself to do the dishes until you’ve done it. Suck all your obligations up, and force yourself to do something no one else would value.

Color with crayons (it is really quite therapeutic). Put on some tango music and pull your significant other out on the dance floor, especially if you don’t have the first clue how to tango. Pull out that novel and write on it–even if you only get a paragraph written in those ten minutes. Take a completely useless walk. Go to a coffee shop with a magazine tucked under your arm, and don’t leave until you’ve gone through the whole thing. Take time out to round yourself a bit more, to venture off into the unknown.

And next time you read a blog, and it gives you something creative to do, don’t say you don’t have the time. Just write already! Do it for me. More than that, do it for you. You’ll be glad you did.

As you may have already guessed from the title, this is your chance to write something particularly distasteful, especially to me. Choose your words carefully now, for I want you to create a short selection of the most flowerful, obnoxious, irritatingly pompous language imaginable. Try to use the biggest words imaginable (use a thesaurus if it helps) to describe the simplest, most mundane act.

My example:

Olivia slipped her silken limb gracefully among countless water molecules, aided in her quest by the magic found in her secret bottle filled with a new elixir, one destined to wash the grime from even the most intrepid oil-laden china. As surely as her hands flitted like hummingbirds, swerving past the once shiny objects deep within her own private ocean, the elixir came to her aid, cleansing them before her very eyes. “Ah!” she sighed. “To have such magic!”

(I would have kept writing, but I had to stop and puke. In fact, I actually had to come back and write more on the second go at it.)

Now it’s your turn to make me puke. Get unreal, and make your words ridiculous.

Why can’t I just be brilliant? Maybe it’s the same longing we often see when we try to lose weight, the whole why-can’t-I-just-lose-ten-pounds-every-week sort of longing. We want something to happen, but more importantly, we want it to happen now. 

Do you ever feel the same impatience? I write for all sorts of reasons–therapy, conveying meaning, entertainment (my own and others’), passion, fantasy, you name it–but once the writing is down on paper (or, in most cases, entered into a document on my computer), I want something more out of.

I want it to be brilliant.

But, woe is me (and yes, I am whining), my writing pretty much isn’t brilliant. Often whatever I’ve written is downright dreadful… unfocused, boring, static, one-dimensional… and I get a handful of polite comments designed to not offend me, to encourage me to keep trying, yet to make it clear that whoever it was didn’t LOVE what I did.

And I can’t blame them. I usually don’t like it either, especially once I’ve given myself some distance from it.

Even when my writing’s okay, it still doesn’t get to that great level, the I-can’t-put-the-work-down level that I so long for. 

So, what’s a girl to do? Truthfully, I might have given up by now except that my writing eats at me when I don’t attend to it (as it’s eating at me now, since I haven’t written on my regular stuff for weeks). Perhaps I should just turn recluse, like Emily Dickinson, hiding within the delusion that I’m brilliant but only I know it. 

Then again, maybe I’ll just take my punches… and grow from them. It would be easier to hide, but even if abject humility doesn’t agree with me, it probably does me more good than I’d like to admit.

Okay, whining day is over… I need to get to work! 

To go along with yesterday’s blog, here’s an exercise on creating the mood in your writing. Now remember, you don’t have at your disposal the same elements that movie makers have… music, scenery, lighting, etc. But you DO have all of these in your writing… and that is why your writing should be tightly controlled at all times, so that you pay attention to all of these elements when you create the mood for your piece.

Here’s a bit of dialogue between two people:

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can’t you stay longer?”

“I wish I could.”

“What should I do?”

“Go on. Just go on.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You can.”

“Come back. Please.”

“If I can, I will.”

Not much to go on, is it? Well, that’s intentional. Now it’s your job to fill in the scene. You can change the dialogue when necessary, but that shouldn’t be your focus. Instead, set the scene, use your words carefully, create the mood of the piece so we feel what you want us to, sense the world you have created with more than our minds. I’ll bring in my own example once a few of you have tried your own out. 

Remember, set the scene. Put us in the mood. Give the passage its meaning through what you write and how you write it.

Most importantly, don’t spend two hours on this… give it a few minutes, and show us what you come up with!