Robyn Bradley--A Writer's View of the World

Debut Novels

2008-03-09T19:00:00.002-04:00

I'm always happy to help promote debut novels since I hope to have one out there someday soon!

Enjoy.

How to "Fake" a Memoir

2008-03-07T09:40:00.000-05:00

Okay, this is pretty funny.

Should Memoir Come Under Fiction?

2008-03-07T09:28:00.001-05:00

I'm starting to think yes. Anyhow, here's some good reading on all the brouhaha surrounding memoirs, fact-checking, and corporate greed. Enjoy.

New in Personal Essays

2008-03-04T10:29:00.002-05:00

The only thing harder than getting a book of personal essays published is getting a book of poems published. But here's an interesing Q&A with the newest personal-essay dahling. She sounds nice and she's pretty to boot. Already I hate her. ;)

Memoirs and Making It Up

2008-03-04T08:34:00.002-05:00

In the last week, it's been revealed that two critcally-acclaimed memoirs--one that's been around for years and another released last week--were fabricated. (At the radio station where I used to work, we honored Misha Defonsesca, author of the former "memoir"...she lives in Massachusetts.)

The burning question, of course, is why? But my other question is this...would these memoirs be less affecting stories if they were presented as novels? Would Frey's A Million Little Pieces have worked as fiction (which, interestingly enough, is how he originally peddled the book to agents)?

I read A Million Little Pieces after the whole Oprah-fabrication-mea culpa debacle. And I still thoroughly enjoyed the book for the story and the writing (Frey's prose has a wonderful breathless quality that worked well for his anxious, desperate, on-the-brink narrator). The book shouldn't have been labeled a memoir. But what made it good--the story and the writing--was still good (at least to me), even despite the fact it wasn't true. I like good stories. And while stories that are "true" tend to elevate them to a new level (sometimes), that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy a good story that's completely made up. Think Stephen King. Think Harry Potter.

So why would an author lie? I don't have the answer. Misha Defonsesca said, "This story is mine. It is not actually reality, but my reality, my way of surviving." Margaret Seltzer (author of the second book mentioned above) said in the Times article, “For whatever reason, I was really torn and I thought it was my opportunity to put a voice to people who people don’t listen to. [I] was in a position where at one point people said you should speak for us because nobody else is going to let us in to talk. Maybe it’s an ego thing — I don’t know. I just felt that there was good that I could do and there was no other way that someone would listen to it.”

While nonfiction writers have a responsibility to tell the truth, agents and publishers aren't completely innoncent since they're hot on memoirs because of the market: there's more room (i.e. more money) for nonfiction than fiction.

What do you think?

DVDs and Revising

2008-02-26T11:58:00.002-05:00

I don't own a DVD player. But lately, I've been watching DVDs at M's house. I'm fascinated with (by?) the deleted scenes. What a lesson on revision! Some of the movies include explanations from the directors, which I love listening to. One of my catchphrases to students has been "you're the only one who knows what you cut; your audience doesn't," which is a philosophy I learned in radio many moons ago. It's really neat to see what the director chooses to cut to get a tighter and more effective and affective story (or simply to get the picture down from four hours to a manageable 2.5. Think word-count challenges we writers face--same idea).

I think a different "revision" lesson plan for a writing class would be to rent a movie that's new to DVD (i.e. to ensure that no one in the class has already seen the deleted scenes). Then the class would watch the film, watch the deleted scenes (without the commentary by the director), and then discuss how the deleting of scenes affected the story.

(BTW--I realize there's a lot more to revision than merely cutting...but cutting scenes is part of the "re-visioning" process.)

Sorry. I'm Just Not That Into You

2008-02-25T17:30:00.002-05:00

RB: Listen, Thesis, we need to talk. About us.

Thesis: What do you mean "about us"?

RB: I mean us. You and me. This whole "thing" isn't working for me.

Thesis: What do you mean "thing"?

RB: This thing we got going on. You know, this relationship we've had for the last almost two years.

Thesis: We didn't commit to this "thing" until January. And now you want out.

RB: I do all the work while you just sit there. How is that fair?

Thesis: Oh, you do all the work, huh? When's the last time you've done any consistent work on me? On us? Seems to me you're putting your attention elsewhere.

RB: What's that supposed to mean?

Thesis: You know.

RB: No. No I don't. Elucidate.

Thesis: Remember, don't use a big word when a small one will do, sweetheart. And don't use "it" in a sentence either."

RB: You know it pisses me off when you start quoting AJ.

Thesis: Whatever.

RB: Anyway, what did you mean I'm "putting my attention elsewhere"?

Thesis: You have your eyes on someone else.

RB: So what if I do?

Thesis: You're not even going to deny it, are you?

RB: Look. Nothing has happened. How can it when I'm wrapped up with you?

Thesis: Oh, so it's my fault that you don't have time to cheat on me? Am I hearing you right?

RB: Listen, maybe we need a break.

Thesis: A break? We're committed until May. You said you'd hang in there until May.

RB: Yeah, well. Maybe I lied.

Thesis: Bitch.

RB: That's real mature.

Thesis: Yeah. Just like cheating on me is.

RB: I haven't cheated!

Thesis: Oh, of course. You've just thought about it. Flirted with the idea. As if that's supposed to be okay.

RB: Listen, Novel #2 and I are just talking. Just shooting the shit. That's all.

Thesis: So that's the the guy's name, huh? Novel #2. Doesn't even have a worthy title.

RB: I can't talk about this.

Thesis: Do you think about Novel #2 when you're not with me?

RB: Well...

Thesis: It's a simple yes or no question.

RB: Yeah. Sometimes.

Thesis: Sometimes?

RB: Okay. A lot.

Thesis: Do you think about Novel #2 when you're driving? When you close your eyes at night?

RB: Yes. Yes, I do. I'm sorry.

Thesis: You're sorry? You're sorry? Is that supposed to be enough? After all we've been through so far, the red ink, the postage, the gnashing of teeth as we get through some of those rough moments? You're just going to turn your back on that now?

RB: Look, I'm sorry. It's me, not you, okay?

Thesis: Cliche.

RB: Look. I'm just not that into you. I'm sorry.

Thesis: You're just not that into me anymore, huh?

RB: Um, I didn't say "anymore."

Thesis: What's that supposed to mean?

RB: Well. I don't want to hurt you, but I don't know if I've ever really been into you. Really.

Thesis: Great. Well, that's just fucking great. So what are we supposed to do until May? Dodge each other every time you log in? Maybe we should try counseling again. Maybe we should talk to Leah.

RB: I'm done with counseling. I've made a commitment to you until May, and I'll abide by that, but after--

Thesis: After?

RB: I'm outta here, babe.

Imagine Entering a Contest Where Nobody Wins

2008-02-23T08:12:00.002-05:00

Imagine entering a writing contest where nobody wins because the judges decide that not a single one of the entries is worthy of the big prize. Think that wouldn't happen? Think again.

What do you think of this?

As for my thoughts...I find it hard to believe that there wasn't at least one great submission. I know there's a lot of crap out there. I know most subs are probably horrendous. But I find it hard to believe that they ALL were horrendous.

Sum Up Your Life in Six Words?

2008-02-22T18:28:00.002-05:00

There's a new book of six-word "memoirs"--writers of all stripes were given the challenge of summing up their lives in six words. Interesting. I wonder if cuss words count?

Can you sum up your life in six words? I'll try...here goes.

Here's the depressing view:
Just as I expected: That sucked.

Here's the dreamy/hopeful view:
George Clooney, you complete me. W00t!

Here's the realistic view:
Good daughter. Good friend. Good writer.

Here's the commercial rip-off view:
One shot at this life? Priceless.

Your turn...

I'm Baaaaack! (with a prose poem!)

2008-01-15T17:06:00.000-05:00

Well.

I'd offer a bunch of excuses, but what's the point? Let's just get back to it, shall we?

About a year ago, I wrote this short essay--two pages, if that--and Jane, my advisor at the time, said it was really a "moment" that "wasn't yet an essay." But now Leah, my thesis advisor, is encouraging me to turn it into a prose poem. Only thing is I've never written a prose poem before. I'm a Prose Poem Virgin, people, so be gentle.

Actually, I really am open to feedback...I guess my questions are do you understand what it's about? If not, does that bother you? Any problems with the language or form or how it ends? I'm sure I've lost just about all nine of my readers, but for the one or two of you who are still lurking, I welcome your feedback (I sent my poem to Red Soul Girl, a fantastic poet from my writer's group, so I'm hoping she'll have some insight).

Okay...here it is:

Parking Meters—Circa 1997

Eight o'clock, with no spare time or change. My coffee breath stains the air with each exhale, with each stair and step, with each person I pass, most rushing to the office. But I’m halfway through my workday since my mornings begin at three a.m., the Mass Pike empty, the 7-Eleven quiet save for the tongue-pierced cashier who expects me at dawn even though he has no idea why I buy three Globes, two Heralds, a New York Post. He doesn't ask. I don't offer. I pay in dollar bills and clutch the change, and the silver George Washingtons stare up at me, mocking. Didn't we break free from Britain because of taxes? Yet now I clasp these coins, an albatross for hungry meter mouths, while the winter sky bulges and worker bees bustle past me in a flurry of winter coats, leather gloves, knitted scarves, briefcases. Berkley and Stuart Streets metamorphous from sinister night-city, smoke rising from sewers and sirens sounding, to this innocuous hubbub moment when I complete my most important (mundane) radio-producer task—clink, clink, clink! My stripes, earned!—because nothing ruins a morning more than neon orange tickets tucked under windshield wipers or my colleagues' cross voices when I tell them I found their cars too late. “There’s gotta be an easier gig than this,” I lament as I trot down one street, up the next, and back again. But the world out here doesn’t hear my mutterings or my heart's pounding passions because it's a world where you can’t tell where the gray sky ends and pavement begins, a world where accidents happen in the early morning hours before the traffic lights come on, a world where an old man with an eagle beak and Red Sox cap hawks newspapers under the Salvation Army Headquarters' super-sized scarlet sign and spouts an incomprehensible language to me as I shuffle by, a world where you and I might pass one another—a future lover, a best friend, the sibling I never knew—except we don’t see this potential because we keep our heads down low, me cursing under my breath as I search for the right car, you racing to get to work by eight, already three minutes late.

This is why I write...

2007-08-12T11:34:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure I'll ever be able to explain--in a way that makes sense to others--why I write. But this comes close.

PS--I'm not "back." I just couldn't NOT post this.

Peace,
FC

Pointing Out The Obvious--This Blog's Officially Dark For A While

2007-07-10T07:12:00.000-04:00

Time to take a break from the ol' blogosphere (or, um, to continue with this break that I've already started). Don't worry (all five of you regular readers)--everything's fine. Just need to put my energies and efforts elsewhere for a while.

I imagine I'll be back at some point, but as a reinvention. I might end up taking down the FC blog permanently, so don't be alarmed if this here site disappears. I'll be checking in with your blogs from time to time, so I'll still be lurking.

Enjoy the summer! :)

Peace,
FC

Depressed As All Hell...

2007-05-19T11:16:00.000-04:00

Miss Snark is retiring.

For all the teachers in the audience (and students, too)

2007-05-05T14:08:00.006-04:00

How many teachers are in grading hell right now, raise your hands? Well, this is pretty darn funny.

When Wikipedia Works

2007-04-23T09:04:00.000-04:00

Much controversy has surrounded Wikipedia in recent months. I talked about it in an earlier blog post. But here's an interesting article on Wiki in today's New York Times.

What do you think?

My Unpopular View--Why Imus Shouldn't Have Been Fired

2007-04-13T14:53:00.000-04:00

Freedom of speech almost guarantees that you’re going to offend someone somewhere someday. Most of us begrudgingly accept this gauntlet while morning show jocks, comics, columnists, and Borat embrace it. Still, even they sometimes teeter too far on the tightrope of unacceptability.

In America, with few exceptions, we’re free to say what we want. But we’re also subject to consequences when people, such as employers, believe what we say is unacceptable because of its implications. As the line blurs between what is and what isn’t acceptable content, politicians (think Jesse Jackson and his “hymietown” comment), actors (Mel Gibson and his drunken diatribe on Jews), shock jocks (Imus and his “nappy headed hos” slur), and other in-your-face figures often find themselves (understandably so) offering mea culpas to an increasingly impatient and unforgiving audience.

Through the years, certain questions have served as measuring sticks for acceptable and unacceptable speech. What does the speech do? Does it “merely” offend? Does it incite fear in the masses? Lead to rioting and violence? Of course, we can debate each narrower term, but I think it’s fair to say this line of questioning suggests a clearer definition of what is and isn’t acceptable speech. Time and context also play roles. The old “you can’t yell ‘fire’ in a crowded theatre” example comes to mind.

So, did Imus’ words incite violence? No. Did his words incite fear? No. Will the talented and smart women of the Rutgers’ basketball team roll over and say, “Don Imus called us ‘nappy headed hos’, so it must be true!”? Of course not. Will little girls’ self-esteem be adversely affected by Imus' words? No one can say for sure (I challenge anyone to offer sound scientific proof right now), but my guess would be little girls have bigger self-esteem worries like schoolyard bullies, predators on MySpace, and the pervasive images of super-thin models and actresses that the media bombard them with. Were his words inaccurate? Yes. Did his words offend? Yes. Did he have the “right” to say them? Yes. Did CBS have the right to fire him? Sure. Should he have been fired? No. And here’s why.

Imus is 66 years old. This is a fact, not an excuse. (And, please, hear me out and be willng to read my reasoning with an open mind.) He comes from a generation when African-Americans were called “colored” and relegated to the back of the bus. He comes from a generation where many, sadly, were indoctrinated with the belief that blacks were sub-human. And while warped thinking isn’t hard-wired in our brain cells, it is complex enough that undoing it takes time, patience, education, and—most important—recognition that one needs to rethink earlier notions and beliefs.

Imus recognized what he said was wrong, insensitive, and just plain stupid. He’s spent the last week apologizing. He called his (then) upcoming two-week suspension “appropriate.”

Can I say for sure that Imus is genuinely full of remorse—and not just because of the maelstrom resulting from his words, but because of the wrongness of his words? No. I can’t say for sure. Neither can anyone else. But what I can say is what I sense to be true. I sense and see a man who was truly surprised that the words he casually uttered caused such pain. I see a man who, once he recognized the hurt he caused, apologized. I see a man who is not only willing to carry on the debate—which so many in the media have pointed out is what this country really needs—but also has the power to do so.

Exorcising Don Imus from the airwaves is not a panacea. It merely masks one symptom of a chronic disease. The symptom—and the pain resulting from this particular symptom—may eventually disappear. The disease may even seem to be in remission at times. But it’s not. It lurks beneath this country’s skin, like a splinter—an annoyance at first, but one, if ignored, can abscess and infect the whole.

Some believe that our right to speak freely requires enormous responsibility. This is not true; it’s not a requirement. A reasonable, honest, and ethical person might—and should—take it upon himself or herself to exercise responsibility when speaking, but one needn’t be a responsible person in order to speak his or her mind freely. It’s the beauty of this nation and also its curse.

But let’s assume you disagree and that you believe someone like Don Imus must act responsibly since he is in a position of considerable power and influence by virtue of the sheer number of people he reaches every day. Okay. But keep in mind that this cloak of responsibility does not always shield a person from a rainstorm of stupidity. Being human trumps all that.

Sometimes, even when we try to be responsible in what we say and do, we screw up. Say the wrong thing. Make mistakes. Embarrass ourselves and others. I’ve done it. Lord have I ever. And that’s when I apologize and educate myself and hunker down and try to do good. And, thankfully, I’ve been forgiven—not banished from my family’s world or my friends’ orbits or the workplace—but forgiven.

What Imus said was wrong. But so was firing him. Suspension, lost listeners, public humiliation, and perhaps a fine (Hello? FCC?) would have been adequate punishment for a man, whom I sense, is at an age where he’s willing to accept culpability, understand the motivation behind his words, and share his rehabilitation live in front of all of us. Imus met with the Rutgers’ basketball team last night, after CBS handed him his walking papers. Too bad we won’t hear about this experience, in detail, from his perspective, complete with the callers and differing opinions that a morning radio show provides. (For the record, the women have accepted his apology.)

With his firing, we (and I mean you and me and everyone else in this country) have lost an opportunity to create an ongoing national dialogue on race—one that could be heard and listened to for the long term and not simply discussed during the weeks surrounding a celebrity’s or politician’s insensitive and offensive rhetoric.

**For the sake of full disclosure, I should add that Imus airs on a sister station of the radio station I work for. I'm not, however, an Imus listener, though I have heard bits of his show. In no way do my views necessarily reflect my station, its parent company, or the views of anyone else I work for.

On David Sedaris...And Exaggeration in Creative Nonfiction

2007-04-12T10:23:00.000-04:00

Okay--brain-picking time:

So what makes up the "creative" in creative nonfiction? This is not a rhetorical question--what is your definition?

Is it ever okay for nonfiction writers to embellish or exaggerate (like concocting scenes, adding dialogue, changing settings) in order to discover the larger truths?

What the heck is a nonfiction writer anyway? Does the term encompass journalists, humorists, memoirists, and essayists? If yes, are the rules the same for each? Or do humorists enjoy more latitude than, say, journalists?

Yes, the damn bloody horse wants another beating, it's the question that will not go away, it's the plague of us so-called "nonfiction writers," and it tires me to the core.

For those of you who are wondering what has set me off, David Sedaris (as some of you may have read) is the latest writer accused of using one too many fictional devices in his work.

Here's the latest on David Sedaris.

And for those who want to know MY answers to the above questions, I just don't know. But I am one or two blog posts away from making an announcement that addresses my future in this genre.

Stay tuned.

On Revisions

2007-04-10T21:46:00.000-04:00

I asked Mr. C., my fiction advisor, if the revisions of my novel seemed too polished (something that my nonfiction advisor felt about my work last semester). Mr C. said he didn't think so, and then he offered this wonderful gem--something that all of us need to remember:

"... I do agree that too many rewrites can take the edge off of story and characters. It isn't happening yet in this draft, but it is something to be sensitive to. I have seen that happen with some of my students in the past. It usually happens when either a) the writer keeps rewriting to avoid submitting it for fear of rejection; or b) Everybody who reads it in draft form offers suggestions for improvements and the writer tries to incorporate them all. The bottom line is that it is YOUR story and YOUR characters, and you need to stay focused on what YOU want the story to convey."

Boston Bloggers--Check This Out

2007-04-05T10:10:00.000-04:00

Here's something that may be of interest. A new freebie paper called BostonNOW looking for bloggers.

National Poetry Month

2007-04-03T21:26:00.000-04:00

As some of you know, April is National Poetry Month. I've only recently returned to poetry, thanks to Red and some of my MFA buds. I've also found some wonderful poets through Poetry Thursday like Poet Mom (whom I also know through Writer Bug) and The Twitching Line.

I don't know much about poetry, but I may post a few this month. I confess that it's nice to say, "Hey, I finished a piece of writing" (even if, in reality, I'm sure it's far from finished...it at least seems finished to me, and with the way things have been going, I gotta hold onto that).

Hugs and Kisses

When I sign my e-mails
with strings of x’s and o’s
the damn spell check
always suggests Xerox.

I hit “ignore”
instead of “change”
but secretly hope I’ll press
the wrong button and the
e-mail will float into a
special someone’s inbox
with the closing line
Xerox, me.

And this someone
will write back
If only I could
make copies
of you.

Better than roses!
Better than chocolate!

How easy it would be
to woo me with words.

Yes, Papa. I Feel Your Pain.

2007-03-29T13:31:00.000-04:00

It's been an unusually tough couple of writing months. I'm not sure what that means, and I'm trying not to devote too much mental space to formulating a theory. But I do have a question. What do you do when you hit a rough patch? I might need something other than my normal inspiration sources (going to the movies or for walks) to de-rut.

Writing Survey

2007-03-23T20:13:00.000-04:00

Here's a question to ponder: can you write personal essays in third person when the essay is about yourself (i.e. in a first person essay, you'd be the narrator, but now in the third person, it slips into an almost limited-omniscient POV where the main character becomes "she")?*

Please post your thoughts in the comment section. And since I know at least one of you will throw the question back at me, here's my answer: I don't know. If you had asked me six hours ago, I would have said no for sure. But considering I almost literally threw my PC out the window due to a writing crisis this afternoon...and only got through it by writing a personal essay that evolved (subconscious editor) into third person...and then re-reading it and going, "Hmm. Maybe that will work"...I'm not so sure now. (I realize I've overused the ellipsis.)

Your thoughts?

*I edited my question (before anyone posted comments) because I realized I wasn't clear.

Susan Sontag on the Novel

2007-03-19T13:02:00.001-04:00

Written right before her death, here's Susan Sontag's essay on the novel.

Good News On Books

2007-03-12T08:53:00.000-04:00

Ah, yes. Read some good news about the book-buying habits of teens.

The Bloody Writer

2007-03-06T10:42:00.000-05:00

Yeah. So raise your hand if you feel like this.

The Pulitzer Prize Process

2007-03-05T09:11:00.000-05:00

Here's an interesting read on the goings-on behind the scenes of the Pulitzer Prize juries.

The Friday Write Site Is Back!

2007-03-02T19:16:00.000-05:00

I don't know about you, but I like reading Q&A's with writers, especially when the writers discuss their processes, their tips, and whether they write long hand.

Today's Friday Write Site goes to one of Boston's best, Dennis Lehane. Here's his Q&A.

Questions for you writers out there:
1. Do you write long hand...or pound the keyboard?
2. Do you listen to music as you write?

My answers:
1. No. I have trouble writing long hand because I can't read it afterwards.
2. If I listen to music, it has to be instrumental (Jim Brickman) or something nonsensical-ish (in terms of understanding lyrics) like Enya. Lately, I've been listening to ocean waves.

For the Poets in the Audience

2007-02-28T08:57:00.000-05:00

There's a Minnesota proposal on the table calling for a state poet laureate. The bill is written in rhyming verse.

Enjoy!

Incunabulum--A Word for Writers

2007-02-28T08:07:00.000-05:00

I subscribe to A Word A Day. Today's word is incunabulum, which means "a book printed during the infancy of printing, especially one produced before 1501." The post continues with the following:

Imagine a newly-born book, swaddled in clothes. Etymology often shows the poetry of words. Gutenberg operated his pioneering printing press during the 1450s. Books printed during that time are known as incunabula though the term can be applied to any work of art or industry from its early period.

Read more about this wonderful word here.

Oprah Book Club--Watch Out!

2007-02-27T08:56:00.000-05:00

Here's an interesting phenom: Jon Stewart's The Daily Show is "selling" books...and embraces serious authors. Read more about it here.

What Do You Think of Wiki?

2007-02-26T09:19:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, I'll be reviewing research protocol with my public speaking students: how to evaluate websites, what makes a source credible, where to look for certain info. Inevitably, the subject of Wikipedia always comes up. I explain to students that they should use Wiki as a starting place, not as a primary source. But even as I say this, I must confess that I turn to Wiki regularly throughout my week: to answer questions, to direct me to primary sources, to give me quick history lessons on things I should know, but don't. Still I worry that my students--and many other people--will fall into the trap that "if it's online, it must be true."

Recent studies suggest that the majority of information contained in Wiki's pages is reliable. Of course, we tend to hear about posts gone awry: John Seigenthaler and, most recently, the golfer Fuzzy Zoeller.

Today, I read this Slate.com column by Timothy Noah (I'm currently reading the gorgeous The Woman at the Washington Zoo by Noah's late wife, Marjorie Williams. Noah edited and compiled the anthology). The issue for Noah? Seems his Wiki entry has been tagged for not being "notable" enough. It's an interesting read, and he brings up some interesting questions.

So...what's your take on Wiki? How often do you go to it? Do you find the information reliable? Is it a worthy project or one that will, like so many cyberspace trends, disappear into the ether over time?

I welcome your thoughts!

On Writing and Sanity

2007-02-25T13:03:00.000-05:00

Last week, some of my MFA buds and I were having a virtual chat about writing and sanity. One bud asked, "I am wondering how writers/artists go through life without going crazy?" which prompted the following response from me (a response my buds encouraged me to publish. Thank God for the blog):

Hmmm. Off the top of my head...

Ernest Hemingway
Scott Fitzgerald
Sylvia Plath
John Berryman
Hunter Thompson
Jack London
Virginia Woolf

Artists, by nature, are more sensitive and more susceptible to sadness, depression, happiness, joy, euphoria. I think all people are capable of feeling such extremes, but artists--writers, especially--spend their days living it. When the writing is going well, ahh! What can possibly beat that? But when things aren't cooking, man, we want to slit our wrists. At least, I know I do.
Not all writers, of course. But many, many of us.

Perhaps the trick is accepting these extremes as part of who we are--embracing 'em even. Instead of beating ourselves up for feeling sad for no good reason (which adds guilt on top of the sadness), maybe we should take a deep breath, realize that in this misery our subconscious self is taking notes, sorting through plotlines, and mining a diamond from the shit.

I DO think that we need to continue writing regardless of the sadness. Forget the laundry or scrubbing the john. We can shirk some of our responsibilities when we're in the pit...but KEEP WRITING. That's the only way to get out, from my experience, because the writing is usually the main reason (whether the reason is real or imagined) that I'm in the despair pit to begin with.

Open a Word document. Format the page. And start writing. Don't take your fingers away from the keyboard for 15 or 30 minutes. You can start by writing "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckety, fuck." You can write a letter to your advisor telling her how you REALLY feel about her fucking comments. Or write a letter to an old lover...or write an acceptance speech for the National Book Award...or write that crazy sex scene that's been floating around in your head but is WAY too commercial or romantic to fit anything you got going in any of your stories right now. Write about your tears--the scent, the way they feel as they come out of your eyes. Write fiction, nonfiction, poetry...whatever. Create a scene that's nothing but dialogue. Just write. Keep doing it until you start seeing the sparkle of that diamond--it might be a turn of phrase, a new character, or a new idea for a short story or novel. Allow the good feeling to wash over you...and keep going as the feeling builds and builds. Then...STOP. Stop while you feel good...stop mid-sentence, knowing you'll come back tomorrow to finish it. Then do something that really makes you happy--go to the movies, knit, drink wine, have wild sex, go out for sushi (or all of the above). And as you fall asleep that night, congratulate yourself for getting through it. Yeah, you know the despair pit and the doubt monkeys still lurk--and may always lurk. But you know how to wade through the muck and slay the damn beasts.

You are a writer. Believe it.

Now, go git 'im.

Conventional...or Unconventional?

2007-02-22T09:19:00.000-05:00

When it comes to publishing, we're told to follow the rules--send query letters, include SASEs, don't call, finish the manuscript first.

And then, of course, we hear about someone writing a pitch in red lipstick on a cocktail napkin in some honky tonk where a NYC agent happens to be swilling Jack Daniels while visiting a twice-removed cousin. And the agent signs the person on the spot. Even though the book hasn't even been written.

*sigh*

Here's part one of a story that kinda reads like that and part two of the story. Yeah, still no ending. But it's just another reminder that believing in yourself really is a big part of getting noticed.

How do you all feel about "breaking the rules" or using unconventional methods to market yourself?

Widows and Orphans

2007-02-08T08:08:00.000-05:00

Oh, we learn something new every day.

I slithered (yes, "slither" is appropriate--ask me when I showered last) over to Miss Snark this morning and saw a post about formatting your manuscript for "widows and orphans." Ever hear that terminology? Well, I hadn't. I read her explanation, while keeping in mind that she sometimes pulls her snarklings' tails. So I slithered over to Word and typed "widows and orphans" into Help. Lo and behold, the term is real (just as Miss Snark said).

Here's how you find it in Word:
1. Select the paragraphs in which you want to control widows and orphans.
2. On the Format menu, click Paragraph, and then click the Line and Page Breaks tab.
3. Select the Widow/Orphan control check box.

Note: This option is turned on by default.

See an example and read a great guide on desktop publishing from Colorado State University.

Enjoy!

Radio Poll

2007-01-29T20:33:00.000-05:00

I decided to turn to you, dear readers, for inspiration on a subject I'm writing about--or, more specifically, direction.

You know the old saying about how it sometimes hurts to be too close to a subject? Well, I've worked in radio for almost 13 years. I have lots of stories, but I'm looking for some of you to spark my dormant memories. So here are some questions...I invite you to leave your comments.

1. What's something you've always wanted to know about radio stations?
2. What's something you've always wanted to know about radio personalities?
3. Do you listen to radio now? If yes, what sort of station is it?
4. What do you like most about radio?
5. What do you like least?
6. Add your own thoughts (really--anything you want to say is great...you never know where it might lead me, which is exactly what I'm looking for).

Thanks for playing! I may post some of my reflections here (some of the shorter ones, anyway). We'll see how brave I'm feeling. :)

Peace,
FC

Simultaneous Submissions and Cover Letters

2007-01-25T09:14:00.000-05:00

I had good intentions. I was going to do this top 10 list of things I learned during my MFA residency.

But...

Well...

Here is something that I DO want to share since this is a blog about writing: simultaneous submissions and cover letters.

Simultaneous Submissions
During the residency, we met with editors from Agni, Ploughshares, Post Road, Redivider, and Quick Fiction. They agreed that most lit journal editors expect simultaneous submissions (please note that at this time, Quick Fiction does not accept simultaneous subs...but the editor understands that it's common--and accepted--practice elsewhere). This is good to know, considering the response times can be long.

So if you're planning to send out that short story or personal essay, send it to a bunch of places to increase your chances. If it gets accepted, then simply contact the other places and withdraw your submission (this, of course, requires keeping track of your submissions. Use a spreadsheet or the tracker available with a Writer's Market online subscription).

DO, however, double check the guidelines. If you're dealing with a well-respected lit journal like Glimmer Train, which does NOT accept simul. subs, then follow the guidelines (I've submitted to Glimmer Train a couple of times, and it does an EXCELLENT job of keeping in touch with writers and responding within the window stated on its website).

You've probably noticed in some submission guidelines that editors ask that you let them KNOW if you're submitting your piece elsewhere. A student asked our panel of editors how we writers should handle this since it seems weird to say, "So, here's my piece, but I'm also sending it to nine other journals." They had good advice--don't make a big deal about it...simply put at the bottom of your cover letter: "simultaneous submission."

Cover Letters
The editors had this to say: keep it simple and do NOT summarize your story or essay. Let the work speak for itself. They said your letter can be as simple as this:

Dear Ms. Editor's Name,

I'm enclosing my short story "This is a Pushcart Prize Winner."

Thank you for considering it.

Best wishes,
Fat Charlatan

Final Thoughts
Lit. journal editors are human...and many of them are writers just like you and me, so they understand what we're going through. They care about writing, and they take time with the submissions. Keep sending stuff out.

Happy submitting!

FC

Glossophobia 101

2007-01-23T12:22:00.000-05:00

Well, it's that time again. I'm heading down to the 'Hill to teach Public Speaking. I really adore this gig. The undergrads are still wonderfully idealistic and happy (for the most part) and just discovering that they have voices.

I'm not a fan of theories, and I eschew teaching them (yeah, I'm sure the College would be thrilled to hear that). My goal is to get my students to think critically. To speak clearly and concisely. To back up claims with unbiased support. To understand and appreciate the power of words.

Today, I'll start by writing this word on the board: Glossophobia.

I will then ask, "Okay? How many of you suffer from this?"

Inevitably, they'll look around at one another until one brave soul raises his or her hand. I'll smile. "Yes," I'll say. "So, what is glossophobia?"

And this brave cherub will respond, "The fear of public speaking?"

"Why, yes!" I'll bellow. "Do you know how much we fear it? Studies show that people fear public speaking more than death. Than DEATH. Think about that. As Jerry Seinfeld once said this means that when you're at a funeral, more people would rather be the one in the casket than the one giving the eulogy." (This usually sparks a giggle.) "So, let's write our fears on the board. WHY do we fear it?"

And the students--one by one--will shout out their fears: Looking stupid. Sounding stupid. Tripping. Forgetting what to say. Blushing.

And we'll get them all down, and then I'll say, "Are any of these worse than death?" And the lightbulbs will begin to burn.

I'll tell them about me. How I was--and still often am--peeing-in-my-pants scared of speaking in public. How I had to get over that in ninth grade when we had something like 103 speeches to give (okay, that might be an exaggeration). How I survived this by making my speeches funny. How I did stand-up comedy once I discovered how much "fun" it can be up on stage. How working in radio has made me aware of how to speak, how to breathe. How I was just like them some 15 years ago when I literally was sitting in their seats (I'm a grad of the 'Hill).

Then I will gently tell them it's not my job to make the fear go away, mainly because that's impossible to do. It's showing them how to manage the fear, to keep the butterflies from turning into fruit bats with three-foot wingspans. I'll tell them this, and then I will tell them that they'll be doing an impromptu speech today. And then I'll ask, "How many palms started to sweat just now?"

They'll look around at each other and smile.

And hopefully realize that they're not alone.

Wish me luck!

Peace,
FC

Conflicted

2007-01-22T17:15:00.000-05:00

You know how little kids dream of what they want to be when they grow up? Some dream of being doctors, nurses, lawyers, police officers, maybe even accountants. And if the kid really wants it and works at it, he or she can BECOME it. A friend from high school wanted to be a doctor. So she went to college. She went to medical school. She did her residency. And she’s a surgeon now. I’m not saying she didn’t work hard. She did—she worked her ass off. And she’s smart. VERY smart.

But let’s apply this to writing. You dream of being a writer. You work hard. You go to school and study your craft, work with your mentors, read voraciously. You write and write and write and write. Maybe you’re even pretty good. But…it’s not necessarily enough to BECOME a writer like it is to BECOME a doctor. Or a lawyer. Or an accountant.

The difference? That whole “making a living thing.” The person who works hard, goes to school, and becomes a lawyer or doctor or accountant can actually pay the bills doing what he or she loves. How many of us writers—or any artist, for that matter—can do that?

Yeah, there’ll always be someone who “makes it.” But for every person like that there’s ten of us waiting tables or working in banks (William Carlos Williams) or selling insurance (Ted Koozer) or teaching high school English. There’s me whoring words for a buck as a copywriter, resentful every time a client wants a piece of me because it takes me away from the creative stuff yet, at the same time, thankful that I have some money coming in to make the car payment and feed the cat (this from the person who wants to buy a condo this summer).

I wish I wanted to be a copywriter. I have no doubt that I could work hard, go to school, and BECOME a copywriter, probably a good one.

But no. I have to want the unattainable. I have to want The DREAM.

What do you do when the dream doesn’t want you?

Sycamore Review's Blog

2007-01-22T10:36:00.000-05:00

Stumbled on this blog today. Interesting writing tidbits and gossip.

Hey, anything to procrastinate.

Channeling Katherine Mansfield

2007-01-05T08:58:00.000-05:00

I'm off to my residency at Lesley University tonight for the start of my second semester in my low-residency MFA in Creative Writing program. I'm still doing some of the reading and trying to get work finished for clients, but I'm READY.

One of the pieces I had to read was The Daughters of the Late Colonel by Katherine Mansfield. I decided to google Ms. Mansfield. She has an official site devoted to her. There's a Mansfield House in New Zealand, her birthplace, just as there is a Hemingway House & Museum in Key West.

As I was noodling around her site, I found this:

"In the journal entry for New Years day, 1915, KM resolved 'this year I have two wishes, to write and to make money.'"

Amen, sister. Amen.

Writing styles have changed. But our basic needs haven't. For those who know me, I often walk around saying "All I want to do is write my little stories and be able to pay the bills. I don't need to be rich."

KM struggled. I struggle. But oh what a sweet, sweet struggle it is!

See you all in a week. If I have time, I'll post and let you know what I'm learning.

Peace,
FC

Poetry Thursday: Get The Map Out! Take to the Streets!

2006-12-13T15:52:00.000-05:00

This poem includes a specific road linked to a specific memory. But the poem isn’t about the road, if that makes any sense.

I’ve been out of the Poetry Thursday loop—it’s nice to flex those muscles again. I’ll admit—they’re a little soft, a little sore. I welcome your feedback.

Change of Channel

I heard your voice the other day
on the radio—
a car commercial,
I think.

I didn’t recognize it
at first.
I said, I know that voice! Who is it?
And suddenly—just like that—
I remembered.

I remembered the lazy
Sunday afternoons
we tangled
in bed
making love,
sipping merlot,
eating Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food
from the carton,
and then getting
dressed in a hurry
and nuzzling each other
as we strolled down
Twitchnot Farm Way
to our own private section
of Nauset Beach
where we kept
our red canoe.

I remembered helping you
rehearse your lines for
“How the Other Half Loves,”
how I sent you flowers
every opening night
of every play
you ever did
while we were together.
All, but the last one—
“Shadowlands.”

The flowers I sent you
for that one
got lost
on the way,
along with
your affection
for me.

“It’s a sign,” I cried
as I followed you
in my car after your show,
Linda Ronstadt’s voice
channeling my heartache
through the local FM.

Eight years later, here I am.
A different station,
A different time,
Your voice sounding
familiar, yet…not.

I still wonder
what happened
to those flowers.

Should Novels Have Bibliographies?

2006-12-05T08:16:00.000-05:00

Apparently, there's a new trend: novels with bibliographies. Read this interesting article from today's New York Times.

So, what do you think? Should authors provide a list of sources at the end of their works of fiction? Leave your opinion in the comments.

Peace,
FC

Thankful

2006-11-23T21:35:00.000-05:00

As we sat around the Thanksgiving feast today, I imagine most of us rattled off lists--silently or to each other--of the things we're thankful for. I know many of us are thankful to live in this great country, and many more of us pray and hope for peace in the world. But wouldn't it be great if you could do more than just pray and hope for peace?

Well, now you can.

Boys and girls, mark your calendars. December 22 is Global Orgasm for Peace Day.

I kid you not.

Enjoy. And, oh yeah, Happy Thanksgiving.

Peace,
FC

FC on Hiatus for a Couple of Weeks...

2006-10-28T20:32:00.000-04:00

Due to mucho work, the ol' blog will be dark for a couple of weeks. I'm not expecting to have much time to surf on your blogs either, but I will try to check in from time to time. Please know that I'm thinking of y'all and sending good vibes.

I'll be back mid-November.

Until then, happy writing everyone! :)

Peace,
FC

The Friday Write Site

2006-10-27T18:09:00.000-04:00

In honor of the movie Running with Scissors, which opens today and is based on Augusten Burroughs's memoir of the same name, I award The Friday Write Site to Mr. Burroughs. It's a fun website.

I recently read Running with Scissors and enjoyed every bizarre minute of it (despite the endless sentence fragments). I'm one of the few people I know who walked away from it going, "Yeah, I actually buy all that." I have no idea if that's a good thing or not.

Enjoy.

FC

2006-10-26T08:58:00.000-04:00

Is Writing Dangerous?

2006-10-11T17:39:00.000-04:00

Here's a great interview with the winner of the Man Booker prize.

Enjoy!

FC

Punctuation "Answers"

2006-10-05T15:57:00.000-04:00

"FUN" PUNCTUATION EXERCISES--Answers (Read here to get the background on this post)

Please correctly punctuate the following letter:

Dear Joe

I want a man who knows what love is all about you are generous kind thoughtful people who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior you have ruined me for other men I yearn for you I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart I can be forever happy will you please let me be yours Marilyn

Punctuate the following sentence (you cannot add or delete words, but you may turn it into two sentences as long as you don't change the order of the words):

Woman without her man is nothing

Possible Punctuation Revisions: Remember--punctuation can change meaning.

Version #1
Dear Joe,
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart. I can be forever happy — will you please let me be yours?
Marilyn

Version #2

Dear Joe,
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men I yearn. For you I have no feelings whatsoever. When we’re apart, I can be forever happy. Will you please let me be?

Yours,
Marilyn

Did you follow gender lines?
Typically, the men write: Woman, without her man, is nothing.

Typically, the women write: Woman! Without her, man is nothing.

Because Punctuation Changes Meaning, That's Why!

2006-10-03T21:00:00.000-04:00

So, I've been reviewing commas with my students--it's the punctuation mark that gives them the most trouble. For many, they follow the rule some well-meaning but misinformed third-grade teacher gave them: use a comma when you take a breath or pause. Let's just say I'd be hyperventilating when reading some of their sentences if I followed that rule.

I spent most of last Wednesday talking punctuation in class. Yesterday, I brought in one of my favorite exercises to demonstrate that punctuation really is important since it can change meaning.

Wanna try my punctutaion exercise? This is not original!! In fact, I took it from one of those mass e-mails sent around years ago, so some of you may have seen it before. But it's still fun. Copy the text, post it in the comments, and punctuate it correctly. I'll post the "correct" answers in a day or so.

"FUN" PUNCTUATION EXERCISES

Please correctly punctuate the following letter. You can't add or delete words.

Dear Joe

I want a man who knows what love is all about you are generous kind thoughtful people who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior you have ruined me for other men I yearn for you I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart I can be forever happy will you please let me be yours Marilyn

Punctuate the following sentence (you cannot add or delete words, but you may turn it into two sentences as long as you don't change the order of the words):

Woman without her man is nothing

Enjoy!

Good Read on the Nobel Prize for Literature

2006-10-02T09:12:00.000-04:00

Here's a good read from the LA Times on the Nobel Prize for Literature, which will be announced soon. The question at the heart of the article is this--is it political?

Here's my favorite line: "Swedish literary critic Mats Gellerfelt, quoted in a long New Yorker article on the prize in 1999, agreed: 'The ideal candidate for the Nobel Prize today,' he said, 'would be a lesbian from Asia.'"

Enjoy!
FC

Teacher Evaluations

2006-09-27T08:10:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, my darling cherubs gave their first prepared speeches at Stonehill. They've already given three impromptu speeches, and, as always, I'm in awe with how composed many of them are at the ages of 18 and 19.

Last week's impromptu was my favorite. The students needed to bring me back to a pivotal moment in their lives--in one to two minutes. It could be happy, sad, scary, whatever. But they had to transport me (and the rest of the audience) TO that moment through their use of language.

I've done this impromptu for three semesters now, and someone always ends up standing in front of the room and crying because that's how important the "moment" is to the person (yeah, I'll admit it--ol' FC gets weepy just listening to them).

This semester, I had three students get teary-eyed on me: a native New Yorker talked of seeing the smoke over the trees by her school on 9/11 and how her uncle never came home from the Twin Towers, another talked about how his mother was accused--and acquitted--of molesting a child in her daycare center, another talked about how her little sister started a scholarship fund for a friend who died of an aneurism. There were happy moments, too: one woman walked us through the birth of her first child, and one young man talked about his first (and only) time skydiving.

What I love most about these speeches is that it brings the students and me closer. I'm no longer "just their professor," and they're no longer "just my students." We're together in this crazy thing called life, and there's so much we can learn from one another if we just stop, share, and listen.

I got my evaluations from last semester, and here's my favorite: "I am no longer petrified of giving speeches...now I'm just really nervous."

Amen to that.

Peace,
FC

HA!

2006-09-24T14:10:00.000-04:00

Okay...so I'm procrastinating. I've checked all my writing buds' blogs, and I just popped over to PostSecret, which usually makes me cry...and since I'm in an estrogen hail storm right now, I did.

But I LAUGHED OUT LOUD AT THIS ONE AND SCARED MY CAT IN THE PROCESS.

Enjoy.

I promise to correct papers now.

FC

Leave Gramma Out Of It

2006-09-24T13:11:00.000-04:00

I've been drowning in piles of paper and pig poop this week (don't ask--and I thought the cat vomit was bad).

Anyhow, in preparing my lesson plans for the week, I was reviewing some online grammar exercises we give to the law students. Last night, I sent my boss, Holly, this note:

Look at this sentence: "He is one of the professors that [talks/talk] too much."

Can you explain to me why the exercise says the answer is “talk”? I mean, here’s how I think of it: “he talks” and “who talks” (let’s not even focus on the fact that the word “that” in the sentence should be “who” since “that” refers to things and “who” refers to people: He is one of the professors who talks too much.).

I had been bugging her with e-mails all day, so I was expecting this one to put her over the edge when she finally realized she had hired a fat-charlatan moron to teach gramma...er, I mean grammar. Here's what she wrote back this morning:

It's so funny that you asked this. I struggle with the same thing. Read Jan Freeman's column today, and you'll have the answer! She explains it as, if you reverse the order of the sentence, it would read: "Of the professors who talk too much, he is one." BUT I tend to agree with you and tell the students to disregard the prepositional phrase. I now am rethinking that. But I also plan to tell them either way is acceptable in this case, but in the example of "The group of students is going to class," the verb has to agree with "group" and not students. Yet I can't figure out how to explain the distinction, even though I know it is because in the examples you provide, there is a "one" of the collective noun mentioned. How would you explain this?

I don't know how to explain this. But for those of you readers who are not lucky enough to get The Boston Globe, here's Jan Freeman's awesome column, which addresses the issue.

Enjoy. I'm back to red-penning critical analysis papers.

FC Comes Up for Air

2006-09-20T18:58:00.000-04:00

After correcting papers until I was falling asleep last night, somewhere in the midnight hour, I woke up early this morning. The first thing I did? Stepped in a pile of cat vomit.

With bare feet.

This pretty much sums up the way life has been going. Don't worry (and thanks to all who've left notes on this blog or e-mailed me personally)--things are fine, just a little challenging.

More fodder for the writing, right?

Right??

FC

FC Gets Naked...

2006-09-09T13:19:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I bet that got your attention. And I did get naked--on Miss Snark's blog.

For the last week, Miss Snark, a New York literary agent, has been running her 3rd Irregular Crapometer. A bunch of us snarklings (her devotees) sent our query letters and first pages (or so) of our novels. She posted the query and the pages and tore them apart (for most of us, anyway). She actually liked a handful.

I've known for a while that my novel has some serious pacing problems, especially in the beginning. I've been reworking it, and Miss Snark was the first to see the revised "first" page. I LOVE THIS WOMAN. I wanted blunt honest feedback, and I got it. She doesn't know me. There are no loyalty issues. She just told me like it is, from her literary agent viewpoint. I couldn't pay for this kind of feedback.

For the folks in my writer's group, I've been harping on many of you for using too much exposition in your writing (this was something that the Lesley faculty members tried to get through all our thick skulls back in June). And it's true--scenes drive narrative. Miss Snark pruned my page BIG TIME (and I had a scene). So trust me when I say, "Cut the exposition and give me some SCENES."

Okay, bad news first. Miss Snark said she would have sent me a form rejection letter. The good news? She said, and I quote: "This needs serious pruning and shaping but you've got potential."

I've always believed in this story. I believe in my characters, who have not only become real, but also friends. They deserve to have their story told in the best way possible. So, hello, drawing board! I'm back and ready to go. Let's get this one right.

To read my submission on Miss Snark's blog, along with her suggestions, please go here.

Peace,
FC

Sunday Scribblings--The Monster...

2006-08-27T14:37:00.000-04:00

The prompt for this week's Sunday Scribblings? "The monster ..." Here we go.

Bitch-Slapping My E.M.

The Envy Monster lurks, and suddenly I'm insanely jealous--miserably and horribly.

Perhaps it's fueled by this giant-green-snot-of-a-cold I've had since Friday. Or maybe it's fueled by the endless wait to birth Robin's baby. Or by the thought that ran through my head yesterday while sitting on the porch swing: this view of my parents' backyard may be the only one I ever have. But I think it has more to do with the fact that an editor I've queried for over a year doesn't even respond with a "no thanks" yet he's bestowing praise on a writing buddy of mine—the kind of praise that writers (like me, anyway) lust for.

Yeah, I'm not ashamed to admit any of this. It is what it is. Okay, not entirely true. I am ashamed...but it still is what it is. So I should face it.

I love Big Mama and am probably one of her biggest fans. "She's the real deal. She has the raw talent and the potential to be one of the greats." I've said this to family, friends, and Dennis the mailman. Okay, maybe I haven't told Dennis, but that wouldn't be such a bad idea since he's good at spreading stuff.

I also TOLD Big Mama how envious (jealous? I never know which one is right in this context) I am of her right after I congratulated her. (I know what y'all are thinking: "So on top of being a fat jealous bitch, FC, you're a shitty friend. Nice.")

Oh, yeah. One more thing. The praise this editor bestowed was in the form of a rejection letter. But it was the nicest damned rejection letter I've ever read—better than most of my acceptance letters, which are scarce to begin with. Here's a summation:

1. I enjoyed your essay
2. You've got a good eye for life's follies
3. I hope to hear from you again.

It had a mentoring feel to it—he told her what she could do to improve, and he even plucked one of the lines he loved and told her what he liked about it.

"Let me get this right," the King asked when I was whining to him via IM last night, "You're jealous over a rejection letter?"

(I'm convinced guys deal with negative emotions, such as envy, differently from women. They go drive their cars fast, hoping to crash into brick walls, or, you know, bomb countries.)

I think my issue is this: I've felt invisible for most of my life, brought on by myself, I'll admit. But now, when I put myself—my writing—out there for the world to see, I expect acknowledgement. Not acceptance per se, but acknowledgement. I won't lie. Rejection form-letters hurt. But just for a minute. Then I move on. At least, I reason, someone OPENED my envelope or e-mail and had the decency to stuff a rejection letter in my SASE or hit send on an e-mail. Maybe he even read my submission. Sometimes I dream that even if he didn't accept the piece, he paused for a moment on a line or phrase or image I painted and said, "Damn. That's good writing."

But when a writer gets NO response—even after persistent, yet polite, follow-up e-mails—it's easy for someone like me to descend into a Dank Dark Funk. This, of course, is where the Envy Monster lives.

Luckily, whenever I detect the EM squeezing her claws around my neck, I go running for this book: escape into the open by Elizabeth Berg.

Elizabeth Berg is a bestselling author. She and her best friend have been friends since 1967. But they took a "sabbatical" from their friendship in the 90s because of—you guessed it—EM. The friend (who's a non-writer, by the way) couldn't corral her EM, and it almost ruined their friendship.

It's a great read. I think writers and all friends, family, associates, and potential lovers of writers should have to read this section.

Last night, I read it before falling asleep. I know I'm not alone in my EM battle. I know I'm ultimately in control of my EM. And I know deep down that I really am happy for Big Mama because that's how good she is and because she works hard at her craft.

This morning, I sent out a query (the best way to slay your EM). And to the editor who reads it, I have one request: it's okay if you reject me, but have the decency to send a note.

Note--this essay appears as one of my earlier blog posts in May. But it fits the prompt perfectly, and, besides, I'm in the middle of hell week. Your comments are always welcome. I promise to visit your blogs--if not this week, then next.

Peace,

Poetry Thursday

2006-08-24T08:06:00.000-04:00

The prompt for this week's Poetry Thursday is "time."

Here we go...

Damon Road

When I loved you
I never pointed out
that the road in town
which bore your first name
was a dead end.

We'd drive by in your beat-up
black Camaro—side purple striped,
windows painstakingly tinted during
an afternoon when we should have
been making love—
and you'd beam boyish conceit, "See that?
They even named a road after me."
Adoring, I'd nod and ignore
the yellow flash,
those two damning words.

We grew—up, over, apart,
split like a branch from its trunk.
Lightning strike!
"I can do better," I said as I pursued
Park Place and Boardwalk's owner,
my chance cards always getting lost.

Back at go now, with aging parents and
empty play-money pockets, I drive by your road.
Sign's gone.

Progress!
Connection!
Throughway!

Maybe
all this time
the dead end
was me.

Thanks for reading. I welcome your comments and suggestions.

Peace,
FC

Teaching Days are Here Again...

2006-08-22T09:47:00.000-04:00

In honor of the darling sweet cherubs I have the honor of teaching this semester, I'll offer this quote from David Sedaris' Barrel Fever whenever one complains about his or her grade:

“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.”

;)
FC

Sunday Scribblings…"The Inner Life of Pets"

2006-08-19T08:15:00.000-04:00

The prompt for this week's Sunday Scribblings? Channeling your pets…we're supposed to get into the heads of Fluffy, Spot, or whatever. This one was a challenge. Here we go…

Kitty Letterman

So me and her, we watch this weird-ass human on television. When I sit below the screen and bat it with my paw, I really do it for her entertainment. There's just something funny about the way she squeals, "Oh, KITTY! Are you watching TV?"

Anyway, so we watch this guy almost every night, real late, like when I should be hunting those damn moths that fly around the light bulb in my girl's room. The guy on the TV—he's freakish-looking, tall as the Japanese maple in our back yard and skinny as the vines snaking up the side of the house. Seriously, my goal is to climb this dude someday.

So, he looks weird, right? Pasty white skin, glasses, and a gap between his two front teeth, which we see a lot of because he's always making these weird faces after he says something that he and my girl find amusing. Whatever. It's a noisy show, with people clapping and this little short bald guy off to the side, leading a band. I don't like noise. That's for the dogs.

But there's one thing this guy does that I do like: Top 10 Lists. These are no ordinary top 10 lists, either. These are—what would I call it in your language?—"illuminating." They tell it like it really is, and, man, they're funny.

So the other day while I'm trying to nap and my girl is vacuuming, I start thinking of my own top 10 list, right? Let's see…

Top 10 Kitty Musings:

10. So, little kids should be seen and not heard, huh? Well for me, they shouldn't be seen, either. Honey, it's time to kill your nephew. I know where we can get mole pellets. Trust me—it's for the best.

9. You leave a door open, and I'm gonna go through it. I don't care if the washcloths are clean or that your white angora sweater is off limits or that you "claim" I won't like the ride in the dryer. If you don't want me to go there, then close the freakin' door.

8. If you close a door, I'm gonna try to open it, plain and simple. If that doesn't work, I'll meow. A lot. Until you come investigate and bribe me away with Pounce.

7. Listen, I don't fetch, roll over, or come when I'm called. You should've known that when you signed up for this. Stop your bellyaching. (But I'm really good at playing dead—it's called "sleeping.")

6. You ever look at the drain after your shower? Because you shed hair, too, sweetheart. And it ain't pretty. Stop complaining about mine. Oh, and as for fur balls? Four words for ya: Get used to them.

5. Really, I'm doing you a favor when I sit on the newspaper. It's all bad news, and you never finish the crossword puzzle anyway.

4. You spend WAY too much time on the computer. You need to rest more. Take naps. Oh, yeah, and stroke me. A lot. Really, I'm only thinking of your health when I sit on the keyboard.

3. I WILL catch those goddamn fish in that 35-gallon tank you tempt me with. Just you wait and see.

2. Three words: Female White Persian

1. Claws are meant to scratch. It's called instinct. You know, survival of the fittest? Go brush up on your freakin' Darwin before you bitch at me.

Methinks I could be the freakish guy's new sidekick.

Meow.

Thanks for reading. Your comments are welcome.

Peace,
FC

The Friday Write Site...All the Cool Stuff I Learn from Romance Writers.

2006-08-18T16:17:00.000-04:00

Sure, laugh if you must. But romance writers are some of the hardest working writers out there...many really crank out words.

Today's Friday Write Site goes to Carolyn Jewel, who has an AMAZING amount of useful information for writers, including query letter help, synopsis help, and reasons you should join a critique group.

Enjoy!
FC

Poetry Thursday...

2006-08-16T18:35:00.000-04:00

This week's Poetry Thursday prompt? Anything we wanted. Here's mine:

Advice, Unsolicited

I earned my license
to procrastinate
the day Mama muttered,
"Slow down, girl. You gots
yer whole life ahead of ya."
So I drove in progress' opposite direction
to my mind's lonely playground,
where all my friends—like imaginary
Izzy—eventually grew up
and left me.

"You can be whatever you wanna be,"
Daddy deigned, but he was wrong.
I could never be nectar
hummingbirds nursed
from the bee balm's bosom,
or the pussy willow's chalky gray fuzz,
or the tree frog's lily pad palace,
or the person you'd learn to love.

"Forever," you said, but the confusion
is mine because all this time
I thought it meant
how long you'd be with me
when now, I see, it means
how long you plan
to stay
away.

"You gotta get out there," people push,
and I peer at my life's map wondering
if I missed the turn to OUT THERE,
afraid to stop for directions in case more
well meaning words warp and whistle
advice-disguised nonsense
in my ear.

I welcome your comments...thanks for reading.

Cheers,

Writer's Digest...The Truth Issue

2006-08-16T07:30:00.000-04:00

To all of you working on nonfiction, I highly recommend the October (!) 2006 issue of Writer's Digest (weighing in at a whopping 112 pages, which gives Publisher's Weekly a run for its money).

WD is working on a new "look"--regular columns now have columnist headshots, including young Kevin Alexander, whom I officially have a crush on...I love his writing, but he's such a cutie that, well, you know...and Jodi-don't-call-her-chick-lit-Picoult is penning a column, too. There's also a new (?) last-page essay called "PostScript," although it's unclear if it's open to the masses. Stay tuned.

In terms of my regular magazine reading, I get both WD and The Writer. A GREAT non-writing magazine is The Week. Every Saturday I get the best articles, columns, reviews, etc. from around the globe in one tidy magazine. It's like I've read The LA Times, Le Monde, and all those other papers I don't have time to get to. (I'm also subscribed to Real Simple, mainly because I lust after the uncluttered uber-cool look of the rooms and homes that are featured, especially when the rooms are decorated in everyday items like empty Q-tip boxes and broken chairs.)

What magazines do you recommend? Leave your picks in the comment thread.

Thanks!
FC

Writing Haikus for Miss Snark

2006-08-15T10:42:00.000-04:00

Okay, to understand what's going on, read this first. FYI, Bella Stander is a writer and book critic.
FC

Kick-Ass Writing...and a Little History to Boot.

2006-08-15T10:36:00.000-04:00

This piece was in Sunday's Boston Globe Magazine. It's by Neil Swidey, who's on staff with the maggie. Forget your political affiliations and check out the writing, especially the descriptions and the writer's own dark-secret revelation (which you'll see in the lead graphs).

Enjoy!
FC

Sunday Scribblings...Who Else Can I Still Be?

2006-08-12T10:03:00.000-04:00

The prompt for this week's Sunday Scribblings is this: Who else can I still be? No disclaimers. Below is my submission of nonfiction.

Baby Cakes

"I have a question," Bette says. "I can't eat soy. Are the chicken fingers made with any soy products?"

Our 20-something server blinks twice, leans over Bette's shoulder, and peers at the menu. "I don't think so. But I'll double check."

"Okay, great. If there's no soy, then I'll have that and the garden salad." As the server retreats to the kitchen, Bette runs her hand through her shoulder-length brown hair and shrugs. When she does, I can't help but notice how incredibly large her breasts are under her skimpy pumpkin tank top. She's been breastfeeding for over half a year now, but the rest of her body is back to its slim athletic build, emphasizing her big boobs even more. "Drives them nuts, I'm sure, with all the special requests," Bette says. "Used to with me, anyway, when I waitressed."

For the last half hour, I've been hearing all about soy—the many foods in which it lurks, but more importantly, why Bette needs to avoid it in her diet: it's all because of Denise's bloody poop.

I've gotten used to hearing about people's bodily functions since I apparently have a shrink's soothing charm, meaning folks often spill their most-intimate guts whenever they talk to me. Location doesn't matter, either. I could be on the T, in a bookstore, or even in a random rest room. Only difference is I don't charge by the hour.

Denise is Bette and Dan's six-month-old daughter. She's perfect, really, except for the blood in her stools, which their pediatrician believes is linked to soy, which is passed on to Denise through breast milk. Denise is weeble shaped—beautiful, smooth, and round—and wobbles on rolls of fat. This somehow causes everyone to exclaim, including me, I'm gonna eat you up, which is really a strange thing to say to a baby when you stop and think about it.

But right now, I'm not thinking of that. Instead, I'm listening for my pelvis rattle, the knock from within my ovaries of little eggs wanting their due place in the world. You know, The Baby Dance that's supposed to afflict women of childbearing age. But, as usual, everything remains quiet.

Bette and I are 33 years old and have been friends since we were four. I was her maid-of-honor when she married Dan nearly three years ago. My friends are in heavy reproduction mode right now: Jen had Logan almost a year ago, Bette had Denise in January, Robin had Noah—a baby whom I helped birth—in June, and another Jenn is expecting her third child in October. Then there's my family. As the youngest of six, I have 13 nieces and nephews, the latest addition—a little girl named Willow Rose—having arrived last Thursday.

"Um, I'm sorry," the tanning-bed-brown server says when she returns. "The cook thinks the batter has traces of soy in it."

"Oh, okay," Bette sighs as she takes the menu and scans its offerings again. "Hmm. How 'bout this grilled chicken sandwich? If you could just, you know, check to see if the bread has soy. And if it does, just leave the bread on the side."

The server nods. "You got it."

For the gazillionth time, I'm amazed at the sacrifices parents make for their kids without thinking twice—from losing sleep to refusing bread on a sandwich. I've never wanted babies of my own and often spouted rather self-righteous sentiments like "With all the evil out there, how can I possibly bring a baby into this world?" as my reasons why. But I've grown up a lot since those idealistic days and realize that there's more to it than that. The thought of having children scares the shit out of me, plain and simple.

"I never thought I'd necessarily have kids," Bette muses. "Mainly because I didn't feel I could if I didn't have a partner. And for a long time, I thought I'd never have one. But then I met Dan and…" She smiles and flushes, unable to finish her sentence, and I can't help but smile back.

"Okay, let me ask you this, though," I begin. "Why have kids? Aside from biological urge or worries about populating the earth, why have kids?"

Bette tilts her head, and her pale green eyes grow wide and faraway. "You know, that's a good question. I don't think anyone's ever asked me that. Even in the media, you tend to hear more about reasons why a woman decides not to have kids rather than reasons why people decide to have kids. No one talks about that."

"So…" I urge.

"I guess it's like this. Dan and I have so much love that we just want to expand it. Share it."

In a way, I can understand—even accept—this explanation. Despite my fears, I still yearn for something bigger than me…something I can share my life with. And while it's not a biological yearning—I don't go gaga over newborns and want to run out and get pregnant—I still don't necessarily see myself without, well...

"I'd like to adopt," I blurt. "You know, if I'm ever financially stable and have had a chance to work on my writing and maybe have someone in my life who agrees, I could see myself doing that ten or fifteen years from now. And not a baby, either, but a child. Maybe 10 or 12 years old. Someone who needs a home."

My admission is not surprising. Adoption is something I've thought about since my early 20s, and when I look back on my life, I can see why. I've always liked helping people, sometimes needing to help people in the same way I imagine some women need to have a baby. I've volunteered in nursing homes all my life. I was a Big Sister to a 13-year-old girl named Ashley, and my goal was to help her get through high school without getting pregnant, something she feared since this was how her mother and sister had led their lives. She graduated just fine, and I've never been prouder.

There is, however, another reason for my wanting to adopt. Somewhere in the deep dark bowels of my craven, selfish self is the notion that if something goes wrong—the child becomes a delinquent or robs a bank or, god-forbid, dies—it's somehow going to hurt less and I won't be held as accountable. Likewise, if the adopted boy or girl goes onto BIG things, I'm, in a way, the hero. A savior. Logically, I know this makes no sense. Emotionally, I'm ashamed to admit it. But the feelings are there nonetheless.

"I can SO see you doing that," Bette says, and her enthusiasm and belief in me are genuine. If only she knew my dark self.

We finish our meal and head back to Bette's apartment, where Dan's been watching Denise. I hang out a little longer before getting ready to go. Denise has been flirting with me all afternoon, smiling and cooing, laying on her best baby charm.

Before I leave, I pick her up and she grabs a fistful of my long blonde hair. Her eyes are the size of quarters and the color of mint julep candy. She stares at me, and for the first time I realize that there is noise inside of me. It's not coming from my uterus or ovaries; it's coming from my heart.

What will I be in ten or fifteen years? Is there room for "mommy"? I don't know. No one does. Although when I look at Denise, I wonder if somehow through some baby cosmic force of nature, she does.

END

[If you made it this far, thanks for hanging in. Your comments are welcome.]

The Friday Write Site...

2006-08-11T18:02:00.000-04:00

This is a repeat Friday Write Site (hey--that happens in the summer). Jodi Picoult is one of my favorite authors. As of late, I've been getting into debates about whether she's a chick-lit writer. This, of course, involves having a clear definition of chick-lit, which I don't. The term, sadly, has a negative connotation, which causes some folks to overlook some really great writers.

If you're new to Picoult, I recommend the following titles: My Sister's Keeper, Plain Truth, Second Glance, and Vanishing Act. You can also read excerpts from her forthcoming novel on her website's homepage.

Enjoy!
FC

PS--I dedicate this Friday Write Site to King Vitaman, the biggest fan of chicks and lit. :)

Poetry Thursday

2006-08-10T08:43:00.000-04:00

The prompt for this week's Poetry Thursday is "unfinished conversations."

Unsated

Raiding the fridge at 3:00 a.m.
building club sandwiches six inches tall—
salami, roast beef, chicken from the dinner you didn't eat
with us—and me crawling into the warm
pocket of your lap like a joey to mama kangaroo.
"Why you up, pumpkin?" you'd ask and
I'd yawn my reply "Why you, Daddy?"
But you said nothing.

Jealous, I was, that adults had such important thoughts
to keep them awake at night.
My eyelids lowered, you cradled me to your chest
on the way to my room, you stopped in front of your own,
deposited me next to Mama, and I slept at last to TV sounds
from your study, my lullaby—
my alarm, I'd awake with the sun
find you limp on the living room couch
eyes half open, empty beer cans by your side.
"Morning, Daddy," I'd whisper.
And, nothing.

I'm grown up now
with big thoughts
and sleepless nights
where I make towering sandwiches
I will never eat.

Your comments and suggestions are always welcome.

FC

Word Cloud…More Cool Stuff from Writer Bug

2006-08-08T07:12:00.000-04:00

Writer Bug rocks, but we already knew that. Try this fun little exercise called Word Cloud. What you do is type in the name of your blog or website, and then it spits out this little picture with the most common words on your site. The words that come up might just say a lot about who you are and what you're writing about. I love how I have two large "books" underneath "charlatan"—ha! And then the word "yeah" and "yep" at the end. That kinda sums it up.

Yeah.

Yep.

Enjoy!
FC

Monday Musings…Pritchett, Errors, Easy Buttons, and No Babies in Paris

2006-08-07T15:56:00.000-04:00

A Word on Sir Victor
Last month, I read V.S. Pritchett's memoir A Cab at the Door, which chronicles his early years as a lad in England, including the moment he realized he wanted to be a writer…and how he pursued that dream. The best part of his writing, however, is this: every time he introduced someone new (and he introduced many aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, siblings, and friends over 17 years), he followed the introduction with the keenest description I've read in recent memory.

I picked up a book of Pritchett's short stories on Friday from Annie's Book Stop in Framingham—a reward for having completed my first grad school submission. His fiction is just as wonderful as his nonfiction. And what's cool is this—some of the people from his memoir have turned up as characters in his stories, including his mum and his dad in this story: "Our Wife."

Spot the Error…
Can you find the error in this piece? Put your answer in the comment thread.

Easy Does It…
I had to stock up on three-hole punch paper at Staples, and guess what I found? They SELL those easy buttons they use in their commercials. Some little kids were playing with the contraption (no, I was NOT one of them), and the darn thing actually says, "Well, that was easy." I may have to get one for school.

Stop the presses…
Mel spewing invective, Hezbollah and Israel annihilating one another, global warming, the Sox two games behind the Yankees…yes, boys and girls, things were looking pretty grim in Beantown this morning. And let's face it--it's hard to write when the rest of the world is going to hell in a hand basket, as Mom likes to say. But then I saw this little bit of happy news, and I thought, "Well, there's one worry I can cross off my list. No chance of reproduction for the next year and a half, anyway…that's a good thing."

Okay, time to write…
FC

Sunday Scribblings…Or "all the cool blog stuff I learned from Writer Bug"

2006-08-05T20:33:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Writer Bug for introducing me to Sunday Scribblings. Here's this week's prompt: "Who else might I have been?"

* * *

"Nice shot," Mr. Martino said as the orange orb swished the net. He shagged the ball, and I blushed my response, wiped my brow, and moved along the key on the high school gymnasium's shiny parquet.

Me good at something in gym? No way. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was tall--almost five foot six in ninth grade. I shot baskets on my own all the time, thanks to the net my parents erected by the side of the driveway. And then there was my weight. I had plenty of pounds to put behind that freakin' ball.

Mr. Martino dribbled towards me. "You ever thought of playing for the school? We could use someone with your accuracy."

And weight, I thought. Fat girl finally has a role. I tugged at my white T-shirt to make sure it covered the seat of my black sweat pants--it's a habit I developed whenever I stood or attempted something athletic. Mr. Martino passed me the ball, and I held it high at a thirty-degree angle with my head, bent my knees, and jumped. Another basket.

"We practice right after school."

"I dunno," I mumbled.

"What's the matter?" he asked while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He had a mop of gray hair that matched the color of his eyes. "Too busy watching soaps?"

Well, Santa Barbara was a must see. I was 15 years old, for God's sake. Watching soaps was part of the teenage canon along with multi-hour phone calls, boyfriend hunts, and mall excursions to places like The Limited and Banana Republic. Then again, I never did make a model teenager. I hated talking on the phone, remained boyfriendless throughout high school, and dreaded shopping for jeans and bathing suits the way some people dreaded the dentist.

I shrugged, and Mr. Martino's attention quickly turned to the roughhousing boys who had been playing a real basketball game on the other side of the gym while we girls attempted our version of "Around the World." This involved doing as little exercise as possible so as not to ruin our hair or makeup. We refused to take showers in the locker room, so getting sweaty was out of the question.

My friends were a mixed lot: Robin and Beth, both big-boobed and skinny, didn't play any sports, but Tara and Jen had the solid muscular bodies of the gymnasts they were, and Allis had a willowy elegance that made her skating look like ballet on ice.

Then there was me--tall, big-boned (as my mother liked to say), awkward me. For a while whenever I saw Mr. Martino, he'd bring up my joining the girls' basketball team, and I'll admit that there were nights when I'd close my eyes and picture myself getting a basket in the last seconds of a game, propelling my team to victory. But doubt crept in, scaring away those dreams. I couldn't run fast, I didn't know anything about basketball, and, besides, I'd have to wear shorts.

I didn't wear shorts.

I couldn't wear shorts.

And I never went out for the basketball team, either. Eventually, Mr. Martino stopped asking.

Of course, there's no way of knowing whether joining my high school basketball team would have made one bit of difference to a young girl who had grown too comfortable in the clutches of an invisible friend called Low Self-Esteem.

Yet another "so-what" memory haunted by an "if."

[Note to readers: Some of you are familiar with my essay-maybe-memoir I've been working on for grad school. It's tentatively titled "Fat Charlatan Seeks a Chili Pepper." My faculty advisor has been encouraging me to work on actual scenes. When I saw this week's Sunday Scribblings, it got my memory juices spitting out scenes from ninth grade, and this is the one that bubbled up. Please know that this essay-memoir is not one big pity-party-poor-me diatribe (although I can understand why you might not believe me based on the scene above). It really is a story of triumph. I hope to post more here as I go along. Your feedback is always welcome.]

Bukowski Fan? Then This Friday Write Site's For You.

2006-08-04T09:30:00.000-04:00

I think the biggest lesson we can take away from Charles Bukowksi (and methinks there are many lessons) involves the two words written on his headstone:

Don't Try.

That's not a slap in the face to all us wannabes. Read between the lines—or better yet, read the "implied line" that comes after it: Just type. (Or if you want to go the commercial route, take Nike's tagline of "Just Do It").

How do I know this is what Bukowski meant? Simple. His widow confirms it, but the line also originates from an interview where he said those exact words: "Don't try. Just type."

I'm not saying we should write in a booze-filled haze without any thought. But I do think so-called "writer's block" is merely a euphemism for procrastination. The hardest part about writing is getting your ass in the chair and doing it every day.

This Bukowski database appears to be one of the most thorough ones on the web—it includes manuscripts edited in his own hand, copies of his FBI files, and information on the holy grail quest for Buck's missing story and poem from Write.

Enjoy!
FC

Poetry Thursday...

2006-08-03T08:48:00.000-04:00

Check out this cool blog that's all about poetry on Thursday.

I've been inspired to write more poetry, and I'll try to post something every week. So, for today's post, I'm using a newly reworked poem--I reworked it based on your comments from a couple of weeks ago and from Red Soul Girl, a friend and published poet who gave me incredible feedback. Here's the original. Red encouraged me to go from this simple postcard-ish vignette to something more, by providing a little back-story.

Here's the reworked version:

In Vogue

Fashion!
(not my thing)
But even I know
colors to avoid
together:
orange and green
scarlet and fuchsia
saddle brown and cerulean
champagne and gunmetal gray.
(Right?)

I mascara my lashes,
confident in this knowledge
and blush my cheeks to
youthful innocence
and then wonder why
orange
and
green
work so well
on marigolds
in the flower boxes
on my mama's
backyard porch.

The flowers
don't give
a hot damn
what anyone thinks,
I tell myself,
but you do.
I'm just one more
fucking disappointment
in your life
no matter what I wear--
or don't.

The marigolds
can keep
their ugly
colors.

Okay, kids. Have at it. What works, what doesn't. Is it an improvement over the first or not?

Thanks in advance for reading and commenting.

FC

Hump Day, Hot Day, Fives Days 'Til Deadline...

2006-08-02T09:37:00.000-04:00

I'm thinking we all might be in need of a feel-good publishing story. And since I didn't get my fat charlatan ass around to posting a Friday Write Site last week, I think this'll make up for it.

Check out this author interview (cool blog, by the way) with debut YA novelist R.A. Nelson whose book Teach Me is garnering some decent reviews. It's a risky book that tackles a romance between a high school senior and her English teacher.

Interesting things to note:
1. Nelson's in a writing group.
2. Nelson had written a whole novel before tackling this one.
3. There's a cool grant out there for YA Novelists (for all my writing buds who're into this genre).
4. It IS possible to get an agent after one query letter.

*sigh*

Keep at it, friends.

FC

Monday Musings—35 Years of Joan Didion

2006-07-31T10:41:00.000-04:00

This past month, I read Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking and most of Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Didion's first book of essays.

The former was for a school project. The latter I read on my own. Here are some things I learned:

My telephone phobia is not unique to me. Didion says in the preface to STB,

"I am bad at interviewing people. I avoid situations in which I have to talk to anyone's press agent. (This precludes doing pieces on most actors, a bonus in itself.) I do not like to make telephone calls, and would not like to count the mornings I have sat on some Best Western motel bed somewhere and tried to force myself to put through the call to the assistant district attorney" (xxvii).

She also makes this very important point, which serves as a caveat to any writer's friends and family: "That is one last thing to remember: writers are always selling somebody out" (xxviii).

Didion is an award-winning author. She'll be 72 in December. And still—still—even she is gripped with feelings of inferiority.

Case in point: In The Year of Magical Thinking, Didion discusses her last birthday she spent with her husband, John Gregory Dunne, on December 5, 2003, 25 days before he died. They sat by the fire, and Dunne read to Didion from her novel A Book of Common Prayer. He had it handy because he had been rereading it to see how something worked technically. He read out loud one of the more complicated scenes from the book. Didion captures the moment:

"'Goddamn,' John said to me when he closed the book. 'Don't ever tell me again you can't write. That's my birthday present to you'" (166).

The good news: Even someone of Didion's caliber doubts herself as a writer—these feelings of inferiority that we all experience are normal and never go away.

The bad news: These feelings of inferiority that we all experience are normal and never go away.

FC

Insomniac Poet

2006-07-28T03:13:00.000-04:00

Channeling Descartes

Were you in love with her?
"I thought I was," you say
before sipping your beer.
Summer Gold, it's called--
amber ale that looks like liquid honey
except not as sweet.
And that's the difference
between you and me:
one word.
Because if anyone bothered to ask
Were you in love with him?
I'd say, "I think I was"
when what I really mean is
I think I am.
Okay, so it's two words, really.
A trifle, among friends,
which is what we are
even though
I dreamt tonight
what it'd be like
to kiss you.

Okay, boys and girls...have at it. Tear it apart.

Was Homer a Woman?

2006-07-27T10:06:00.000-04:00

CORRECTED WITH LINK YOU CAN USE (you should be able to access this link and read the whole article with a "free pass"): Here's a great read from Salon.

Enjoy!
FC

Dinner Party for Scribes...

2006-07-24T10:05:00.000-04:00

I'm modifying this little game from King Vitaman's post. Here's how it works. If you could invite any seven writers--living or dead--to a dinner party, who would they be and why them?

Here are my picks:

1. Hemingway--so I can tell him how much I enjoyed A Moveable Feast and wish he had still been around to see it in print... and how much I appreciate his economy of words

2. Anne Frank--so she can see hear how much her writing has affected others

3. Jodi Picoult, one of my favorite authors, because I think she's just cool and down-to-earth

4. Anne Lamott, because her nonfiction writing is so freakin' good

5. Dave Barry, who, I'm sure, will keep us laughing

6. Antoine de Saint Exupery, so I can pick his brain about The Little Prince

7. Stephen King, so I can ask him what he sees when he closes his eyes at night

Who would you invite? Please post your dinner list in the comment section.

FC

Is Writing Easy? Ask the Yarn Harlot.

2006-07-22T15:16:00.000-04:00

Pulled from the comment thread and with a nudge from one of my MFA buds (thanks, TI), I present to you the Yarn Harlot on writing. If you're a writer, you need to read this.

Enjoy!
FC

The Friday Write Site...

2006-07-21T16:35:00.000-04:00

Erica Jong has a new book called Seducing the Demon: Writing for My Life, which discusses the writing life--specifically, hers. Last week, she was featured in a Q&A in Sunday's Boston Globe. And she has a fab website, where she offers weekly writing tips to aspiring scribes. You'll also learn a lot from some of the articles posted on her site--the ones she has penned as well as the ones written about her. Make sure to check out her view on reading lists.

Enjoy!
FC

I Ain't No Poet...

2006-07-20T21:59:00.000-04:00

I'm a fiction and nonfiction writer, and that's what I usually read. This year, however, thanks to Red and the seminar readings for Lesley, I've been rediscovering poetry and--believe it or not--feeling the itch to write it.

I'm not any good.

But I thought I'd use the blog to post my attempts and get some feedback. I'll try to do it once a week. Here's this week's attempt:

Palette

I doubt I'd ever wear
a bright orange sweater
and green skirt
together.
Yet somehow
the two colors
work so well
on the marigolds
in the flower boxes
decorating my mother's
backyard porch.

Okay, dear readers. Have at it.

FC

Been Rejected by The New Yorker's TOTT?

2006-07-19T08:52:00.000-04:00

If you've sent submissions to The New Yorker's "Talk of the Town" and you've been rejected, then this site is for you.

Enjoy!

Women Bloggers, Unite! (Yeah, guys are allowed, too.)

2006-07-18T20:16:00.000-04:00

I read this article by Maura Welch in yesterday's Boston Globe. The title is "Women tap the power of blog; site's a key connection." It's about women bloggers (we're a dominant, dynamic bunch, but y'all knew that, right?) and BlogHer, which is a community of women bloggers around the world. I just registered (fast and easy). Check it out--it's a cool site.

Enjoy!
FC

Mercury's In Retrograde…Why This Can Be GOOD for Writers

2006-07-17T21:17:00.000-04:00

No, I'm not a crazy cosmic chick, BUT consider this: the moon affects the tides. We human beings are made mostly of water. When I worked in the activities department of a nursing home, weird stuff happened during full moons. Hey, I'm just saying…

You've probably heard before someone bemoaning the fact that mercury was in retrograde. Like me, you probably nodded solemnly and passed on this information to friends--"Hey, did you know mercury's in retrograde? Damn!"--without really knowing what you were saying.

Mercury was the "messenger god" (to the Romans, anyway…he was Hermes to the Greeks). He's associated with communication, such as writing and speaking. When mercury goes "retrograde," to the naked eye the planet mercury looks as if it's moving backwards. This, of course, is an optical illusion, not unlike when two cars on the highway are traveling side-by-side and car #1 speeds up. Suddenly car #2 looks as if it's moving backwards. (I learned all this from an article by astrologer Joyce Levine—I edited and published the article in a Boston business newsletter.)

When mercury goes retrograde, communication can go awry. Even if you don't believe this, it's an awfully good excuse to use when the cell phone drops out on a client, the library loses an important book you need for your studies, George Clooney's love letter to FC gets lost in the ether, or, as in my case, you go to print something tonight and get an error message that reads: "Spooler Subsystem App has encountered a problem and needs to close" and suddenly everything freezes, files corrupt, and whining begins.

Of course, the error message could have read "Twelve purple chickens dance with Satan in your hard drive" and it would have made about as much sense to me as a "Spooler Subsystem" having problems, but I digress.

After two hours and several frantic phone calls to my brother Ross (who channels Zeus, I swear! Take that Mercury God!), I've now uninstalled my printer and reinstalled it. This, of course, makes NO sense to me since the freakin' thing was connected just fine to my PC when I hit "print" this evening, but, whatever (how's that for clever writing?).

Anyhow, moral of the story, boys and girls? Back up your computer tonight. Trust me--you'll be glad you did. (And FYI: mercury goes direct on July 30 but then goes retrograde October 28 to November 18.)

The good news is that when mercury goes retrograde, it's a great time to do anything with an "re" prefix, such as revisit, review, or REVISE. This is wonderful news for writers, especially my Lesley MFA buds, who are furiously revising their submissions for August (yeah, and I am, too. In theory). The stars are on our side, my friends.

Still not convinced? Well, give my "Retrograde Resolutions for Writers" a try and report back to me at the end of the month:
1. Reorganize your writing files and/or office space.
2. Research that idea you've had in the back of your head for months and commit the research to paper.
3. Resubmit that essay or query that got rejected.
4. Revisit and revise a short piece of writing that you put aside "until you had more time."
5. Reward yourself (hey, that has an "re" prefix!) with a visit to the movies, museum, or bookstore.

Good luck!

FC

Niche This...

2006-07-14T16:04:00.000-04:00

Pulled from Miss Snark's comment thread is this little gem: an article on knowing your "fiction niche." It discusses some interesting book-marketing campaigns.

Enjoy!

FC

Pep Talk and Friday Write Site...

2006-07-14T14:48:00.000-04:00

Here's the thing: my MFA advisor made an astute observation that's been stuck in my craw (where the hell is one's craw, anyway? I missed that lesson in anatomy class) for two weeks.

She said, "Fat Charlatan, I like how you come up with so many ideas to sell, but you need to take it down a notch and focus on your writing."

Okay, so she's half right...I DO take time and focus on the creative stuff (hell, it took me five years to write my novel), but a writer still needs to make a buck...and spending as much creative energy on a 400-word article for Writer's Digest as I would on my personal essays and fiction is, well, not realistic.

But she IS right that I need to s-l-o-w down with my creative stuff...I get too eager sometimes, and I think the difference between something that's okay and something that's very good is the time it takes for my writing to ferment. Key word? TIME.

(Really, this is leading somewhere.)

In this week's issue of Publisher's Weekly, I read about a seven-house auction for a title by debut author Mary Ann Shaffer who is a 70-YEAR-OLD librarian from North Carolina. I loathe the so-called words of wisdom people offer their kids when they say, "You got your whole life ahead of you" (talk about a license to procrastinate!), but reading about Shaffer's success at age 70 somehow put me in my place. For now.

And Now...Today's Friday Write Site...

I've never read this author, and I can only imagine that more than one of my readers might turn up his or her nose at a commercial romance writer receiving The Friday Write Site award. But, trust me, this woman is deserving.

Debbie Macomber was featured on the back page of The Writer, so I decided to check out her website. It's full of good info, including her advice to writers and background on how she got her start (writing on a rented typewriter with four kids underfoot...it took her five years before she found an agent). She has some fun stuff on her website, too. Check it out and enjoy!

Oh yeah, she also has a cool blog.

FC

Dialogue and Character Development

2006-07-13T08:23:00.000-04:00

This has come up in conversation and on other writers' blogs in recent days. First, I'm far from an expert, but I wanted to share some things I do. See what y'all think. And then add your suggestions and processes in the comments section.

Dialogue:
I feel a little more confident with this, only because of my experience in radio. I've been writing radio copy for over a decade, which means that—in theory—I "write the way people talk." This has helped me tremendously with my copywriting business and my creative writing.

Here are things I suggest:

1. Read your writing out loud and consider taping it (use your phone's voice mail if you have no other means). Even better, have someone read it to you. Follow along on your own copy. Whenever the reader stumbles—especially in scenes that include dialogue—make a note of it. Authentic dialogue should flow off the tongue.

2. Keep sentences short. Most of us talk in short sentences. And we sure as hell don't talk in paragraphs, so make sure you break up long quotes with something—a gesture, a pause, or some sort of description.

3. Sign up for an Instant Message program and then SAVE YOUR INSTANT MESSAGE CONVERSATIONS (simply copy and paste into a Word document). I'm serious about this. When we IM each other, we're writing the way we talk because we don't have time to censor or check for grammar and spelling. Basically, it's visual dialogue. Save your IM's with different people and study them. Better yet, IM someone you trust and then BE YOUR CHARACTER. Have your buddy ask you whatever questions he or she wants, and then answer those questions in character (this can be fun, especially if your character is some sort of freak or sadist serial killer).

4. Study screenplays heavy in dialogue. Many are available at B&N.

5. Watch/tape a soap opera. Transcribe a scene as it unfolds on screen (great place to get arguments and romance) and then study the dialogue structure. One of my dear mentors is a guy named Larry Starkey. He's a published author (nonfiction) and a fellow writing instructor where I teach. He's also a former scriptwriter for General Hospital. He knows dialogue. He once told me that the key to good dialogue is first knowing your characters inside and out and then allowing you characters to dictate the scene—he said that he was often merely "eavesdropping." Don't have your characters saying what you want them to say or what you would say—have them saying what THEY would say.

6. Read writers who pen killer dialogue. Regardless of what you think of his plots or stories, I recommend Elmore Leonard as a dialogue master. If you read Get Shorty and then watch the movie, you'll hear dialogue from the book that's been used word-for-word in the film. That's good dialogue.

Character Development

1. See all of the above.

2. Be a forum lurker. The people in these forums are real and uncensored. There's drama, there's pain, there's laughter. And you don’t have to leave the comfort of your home. You can study them whenever you want. For example, are you a chick lit writer or do you have a character who is getting married? Visit the Wedding Forum on Craig's List. I've been lurking there for several months, absorbing the dialogue, the cat fights, and the dreams of these women (99.9 percent of the people on this forum are women). Good or bad, many post pictures of themselves and their FHs ("Future Husbands"), which adds a whole new level to my study. After several months, I feel I "know" these women, and I've never corresponded with any of them. The forums of Craig's List are all excellent. Want to understand the world of vegans and the people who inhabit them? Visit the Vegan Forum. Want to get a better understanding of transgender issues? Visit the Transgender Forum.

Let me know what YOU do to create 3-D characters and killer dialogue!

Cheers!
FC

Is there such a thing as bad publicity?

2006-07-12T07:29:00.000-04:00

Perhaps someday I'll have problems like Katha Pollitt who contributed this op-ed piece to today's New York Times.

It's a funny look at the strange animal called "writers" (and let's face it--we are strange) and how our strangeness just gets worse after we publish a book.

Want to hear something funny? I haven't written much of anything since returning from residency. I'm not panicking...yet. It's not that I'm not inspired. I guess I'm just wondering how hard it would be to find some other line of work that would actually pay the bills and make my insides glow. For now writing does (well, used to, anyway) one of the two.

Of course, the fact that Massachusetts has two cities and one whole freakin' county in the top ten list of most expensive places to live in the U.S. doesn't help (Essex County, which is north of Boston, beat out San Franciscio and New York).

You think Brad and Angie need nanny help in Namibia?

Print on Demand Publishing (POD)

2006-07-11T13:12:00.000-04:00

Everything I learn lately comes from Miss Snark. That's okay--I give her credit.

My writing group, The Nobscot Niblets, wants to produce an anthology. Some members have been looking at the usual POD suspects, such as iUniverse, Lulu, and Cafe Press. I tend to turn up my nose at self-published titles, and for good reason.

However, Miss Snark mentioned this funny post on her blog today. I went over and read the beginning of POD-dy Mouth and love what this author is doing with her time--finding the gem within the POD shit pile. I suppose the adage is true: there are exceptions to every rule. I don't think my POD snobbery will be diminishing any time soon, but I WILL be monitoring POD-dy Mouth's blog. And I think the Nibs and I should keep in mind some of the things she has to say.

FC

The Friday Write Site...

2006-07-07T15:53:00.000-04:00

Okay, I'm back from my residency at Lesley University, and I'm *starting* to find the mental space to write about the experience. So far, the only word that comes to mind is WOW. (That's an improvement over the drooling I was doing on the carpet for the first 24 hours after arriving home.)

I thought I'd dedicate today's Friday Write Site to one of the writers who led a seminar I attended at Lesley. Her name is Jane Brox. Here's an interview with her from Book Slut. I highly recommend Jane's books--the writing is exquisite (in the interview, she mentions it took her FOUR YEARS to research and write one of her books).

Enjoy!

FC

Working on Short Stories? Read This...

2006-07-05T08:52:00.000-04:00

Here's a great read from literary agent Nat Sobel who writes about the all-important first paragraph in short stories. He even mentions how he solicited the author of a short story to write a novel (I guess it IS true that agents do read the literary mags in search of new talent).

Enjoy!
FC

Rejection Letters...

2006-06-19T14:45:00.000-04:00

This writer has chutzpah. And I like that in a writer. Her name is Deborah Schwartz. I discovered her on Artists' Lair (which I stumbled on in a Craig's List posting...did y'all notice that Craig now has all 50 US states represented and we're no longer "Boston" but rather "Massachusetts" with three options? I don't take well to change. I'm still reeling. And I'm still waiting for Craig to pop up in Iraq.).

Check out this section of Deb's website called Rejections. And then read a pithy little article that explains why she's doing this.

Enjoy!

FC

Father's Day...

2006-06-18T09:08:00.000-04:00

This is my third time blogging about Post Secret. Forgive me, but I can't help it. As I sit here crying at what I've just read (all related to fathers, the good and the bad), all I can say is this: we're lucky to be artists. It's the only field I know of where you can take all your pains and hurts and turn it into something positive in your work.

Remember--what doesn't kill us, we can write about.

Peace. And Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there.

FC

The Friday Write Site...

2006-06-16T16:10:00.000-04:00

I dedicate the Friday Write Site to someone who--as far as I know--doesn't even have his own website. Yet. He's the newest United States Poet Laureate, Donald Hall.

I'd like to send a shout-out to Red_Soul_Girl who has me open to poetry again. Red is a published poet herself and part of my writing group, The Nobscot Niblets (website coming soon!). Red's poetry is as accessible as it is beautiful--she captures life's moments with an intensity that leaves me curling my toes (in a good way).

But I digress...Mr. Hall is taking over from the wonderful Ted Kooser. Mr. Hall has mighty big shoes to fill, but from what I've read, I think he's going to do just fine as well as carry on Kooser's tradition of making poetry available to the masses...and encouraging said masses to embrace poetry.

I've been reading some of his work and finding it quite, quite lovely. Part of Mr. Hall's charm is his love affair with the late Jane Kenyon, who was his wife, muse, and a critically-acclaimed poet. Mr. Hall commented the other day that if Jane were still alive, this honor may very well have been bestowed upon her rather than him. And he meant it. For good reason--Jane's work is wonderful. Check our her poem called Happiness, which Miss Snark also posted recently.

Mr. Hall's not too bad himself. Some of his most exquisite poetry includes glimpses into life with his beloved Jane.

Check out this piece called An Old Life,which has, as Red would say, a "kicker last line." For you writers, check out A Poet at Twenty. Read more of his work here.

Enjoy! And keep on writing!

FC

First Grad School Dream...and Catch-22

2006-06-14T06:51:00.000-04:00

So, I had my first grad school dream last night, which must indicate some sort of anxiety (10 days until my residency begins). It started with Elaine (my advisor, whom I've never met) picking up me and another classmate. We were waiting in the parking lot of my old church, whatever THAT means. Anyhow, she starts going on and on about how EXCELLENT my classmate's writing is--writing that I thought was bleh. She continues to go on effusively and then just STOPS. She doesn't say a WORD about mine.

Yes, I have issues. But we knew that, right?

Anyone here ever read Catch-22 by Joseph Heller? I had to read chapter one for a residency seminar, but I've continued through four chapters since the book is a "classic" and I've always "meant" to read it.

I dunno. I'm having a hard time sticking with it. Of course, it's good to be aware of another literary icon: Yossarian (I believe there's a poster on Miss Snark's blog who uses that alias). The humor is quite dry and subtle, which I usually like. But Holy Adverb! Their overabundance, especially in the tags, takes me out of the story:

'Orr tittered triumphantly.'

'Nathaniel who?' inquired Yossarian innocently.

'Hey, fellas, cut it out,' Nately begged with embarrassment.

Heller does to tags EVERYTHING I've been taught NEVER to do, and with good reason. Let the dialogue indicate the triumph, innocence, and embarrassment.

I feel like I'm reading Franklin W. Dixon's The Hardy Boys--the tags are almost identical. I suppose this is more a sign of the times rather than something specific to Heller.

"But, man, we've come a long way baby," she said thankfully.

FC

First Agent Rejection Letter...

2006-06-12T15:55:00.000-04:00

Don't worry--I'm not getting ready to jump out the window. The truth is deep down I knew it was too early to start querying agents. The manuscript isn't ready for myriad reasons, least of all formatting, which I'm learning more about every day (Oh, to italicize or not? Thankfully, the subject came up on Miss Snark's blog this morning...and her answer made me feel better about the fact that I thought I had committed the sin of all sins by sending something out with italics).

So the bad news is the agent said no. Good news is she wrote a personal note on my query, and her note was nicely worded and had a very friendly tone to it (see--it doesn't take much to appease me, Editor M from the Globe...just a little acknowledgement, that's all). She also offered some EXCELLENT advice on formatting, namely that I don't need to change fonts for the shift in POV (even though the publisher may very well do it in the published product).

I've been working on my novel's structure quite a bit the last few weeks as well as some serious proofreading. My friend's father teaches fiction writing, and he's almost done reading my book and will be offering some valuable advice on the structure, especially the flashbacks.

I've also resigned myself to the fact that there's a VERY good chance that this book will never see the light of day. This isn't me being pessimistic, but rather realistic. Many writers don't publish their first efforts. More, it seems, go on to publish their second or third books.

I think I'd feel a lot better about the whole bloody situation if I had my own place. Actually, no--I KNOW I'd feel better about it (and don't bother telling me to feel differently--you're wasting your time, unless you're George Clooney and you're willing to sponsor a starving artist for, you know...). I'm not sure how to resolve that issue any time soon unless I decide to pack it all in, get a full-time salaried position (which means giving up teaching and, more than likely, grad school), and consider writing a hobby.

I've been considering this A LOT over the last month. We shall see. Stay tuned.

Luckily, I queried only two agents. One rejection down; one to go. I wish I had held off on one of them, as I think the book would actually be a good fit. Ah, well. Live and learn.

PS--Ditch song lyrics from your MS. Not worth the effort. Mine are gone from freakin' PAGE TWO (man, was I stupid) even though I sent it WITH said lyrics two weeks ago.

I thought the hard part was writing the book.

I was wrong.

Writing the Breakout Novel...

2006-06-08T10:31:00.000-04:00

These days, I'm on edge and anxious (well, more so than usual) as I await the birth of R's baby. Yesterday, I slogged my fat-charlatan ass through the rain and plunked it down in the writing section of Barnes & Noble. This wasn't a frivolous trip--I needed a book for my residency, and I wanted to do some research on formatting manuscripts.

Of course, it's easy to get sidetracked in the stacks. I picked up Pat Walsh's 78 Reasons Why Your Book May Never Be Published and 14 Reasons Why It Just Might, which is the most depressing--and realistic--book on writing that I've read in a long, long time. If B&N had been on the third or fourth floor, I may have jumped out the window. I recommend it (the book, not the suicide method) because it will keep you humble, realistic, and aware. Every morning when I wake up, I wonder why the heck I chose this life. Some days, I have an answer, such as, "Hey, this life chose ME." Lately, I'm not so sure.

Luckily, I had the good sense to read Walsh's book FIRST before reaching for the book I had originally been seeking: Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass (of The Donald Maass Literary Agency, one of The Big Guys in NY). Suddenly, I didn't feel so depressed (okay, that's a lie--I did, but this book is certainly more upbeat than Walsh's).

For all of you novelists out there--especially first timers--READ THIS BOOK. It offers practical advice on how to take your novel to the next level, and it uses multiple examples from contemporary (within the last 20 years) breakout novels. As I go back and rewrite my book, especially the first section, I'm doing it with this helpful guide in the back of my head.

Enjoy and happy writing!
FC

How Many F-Bombs are too Many?

2006-06-07T12:29:00.000-04:00

This topic came up on Miss Snark's Blog, which forced me to do a find fuction on my MS. I found 29 F-bombs out of a 93,500 word script, spoken mostly by the main character (never thought twice about using them).

How many is too many? What are your thoughts on this?

Discuss.

FC

Bookmark "The Evil Editor"

2006-06-07T09:38:00.000-04:00

Considering I'm usually awake between the hours of 1-4:00 a.m. these days (Why? Who the heck knows? Pre-sympathy pains for R when she's nursing the baby who still hasn't graced the world with his presence? Paranoia about my future? Mentally lambasting myself for how little I know, how little I've read, how much I sucketh? Perhaps. But I digress), I've had a chance to scour Miss Snark's Blog, which is THE most informative site I've come across for writers post-draft (myspeak for "writers wanting to pitch their novels"). She's brilliant. For those of you writing books, start studying her now. For those of you sending out queries to agents, STUDY HER NOW. I'm serious.

I found this gem in her archives--it's the Evil Editor's blog. He takes real-life query letters and offers critque. You don't have to send in your query (but you can); you can learn so much just by lurking in the cyber shadows.

Enjoy!
FC

The Friday Write Site...For Essayists

2006-06-02T14:31:00.000-04:00

I've decided that I'm going to occasionally devote the Friday Write Site to places where you can submit your writing.

Here's a perfect "essay" place for many of my regular readers: NPR's "This I Believe."

Be prepared, though--when you're ready to submit your "I Believe" essay, the site then asks you to write a "reflection" on what it was like to write the essay (it says the reflection should be between 600-800 words, but I'm thinking they have to mean maximum word count since the essay itself can't be more than 500 words). I recommend writing the reflection in advance so you can grammar and spell-check it.

Good luck!

FC

Avoid These Agents...

2006-06-01T11:19:00.000-04:00

I know some of you are getting ready to query agents. Keep this list by your monitor and avoid them at all costs.

FC