Hold My Hand

The elementary school nearby has weekly 'Fun Runs' during the months of November and December. Students who sign up, run one mile around the school grounds after school. Backpacks line the school walls all around the playground. Children huff and puff and race and giggle.

At the end of the run they receive a plastic footprint from the principal to go on their 'Fun Run' chain. Each week it's a different color. They can also buy otter pops for a quarter. It's all very exciting. It's also tough to run a mile all at once when you're in the lower grades of elementary school.

Recently, I spotted a boy and a girl, jogging along together holding hands. I  would guess the boy to be a third or fourth grader and the little girl probably a first grader. I'm certain it was not 'true love' on the playground, but rather a brother and sister, the older brother looking out for his younger sister. It was a very tender moment for the 'mom' part of me.

So what makes it successful? What makes the kids come back each week?

It's well organized. The path is clearly marked by bright orange cones. There is a reward at the end. But most of all, there are cheerleaders. Teachers and staff, parents and fellow students are out there cheering everyone on, encouraging them to finish. Literal and figurative hand holding gets them through to the end.

As a writer, there are so many ways my hand is held and I know one day, I will get to that finish line. Are we almost there?

A huge THANK YOU to all of you for your support and encouragement and believing that I can do this. Write on my friends.

Grammar Song

Just in time for the holidays, here is a song I found at the Literal Minded blog about helping verbs.



Helping verbs have their place (or they wouldn't be so popular--look, I just used two of them). In our writing, they are great starters, but because they are passive verbs, there is usually a better way to say it.

Let's look at some simple examples:

She was crying. Tighten that baby up: She cried. Or better yet, show us rather than tell us: Tears streamed down her rosy cheeks.

I am so hungry=I want to eat everything in sight.

I have to go=I went=I ran out the door to the safety of my car.

Now it's your turn. Here is a line from my current Work In Progress: He was far more fascinating than the cash register. 


Re-Write away in the comments my friends.

Challenges

It's November! Wow. Soon it will be Christmas. I'm so NOT ready for that. The year has flown by. It's been full of fabulous blessings and scattered with a few challenges. That's where I'd like to go with this post: challenges.

Martin Luther King Jr. said, "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."

How does this relate to our characters? Our characters should learn and grow over the course of their story. In order to do this, they need challenges. (Real life is like this, too).

Let your mean streak run wild, hold your characters' feet to the fire. What's the worst that could happen in that scene you're writing? Throw a wicked curve ball at your protagonist. What will they do? Will they run and hide? Will they face the challenge? I don't normally advocate meanness and torture (read this previous post about mean girls), but let loose, have some fun tormenting them. Let them show us their character.

A common saying in our community is "I/you can do hard things." When my children complain about a difficult situation, I quote that line to them and remind them that they CAN do hard things. They hate it when I'm right and storm off to do whatever it was they had attempted to avoid. So, make your 'babies' do hard things, in the end, they will thank you.

Write on my friends!

Fate

Do you ever have those times when you meet people and you know they were meant to be part of your life? My writing experience has been that way.

When I started writing I knew virtually nothing about novel writing (I graduated college, so I know how to write papers, but novels are not the same--although some of the processes might be). So, my early writing is very rough and clearly amateur and my ego was very fragile--I only told my sister about it. Well, she told one of her friends who had written a children's book. That friend told her about an amazing organization called American Night Writers Association (ANWA) and that I should come to their chapter meetings.

My sister told me about that conversation and trepidation shot through me from my toes to my head. Aaaargh. That meant my vulnerability had the potential of being exposed. But, I yanked up my bootstraps and ventured to my first meeting. It has been one of the best experiences. I have met dear and wonderful friends, people who understand my anxieties about writing, people who care about me (even if my writing isn't captivating).

That initial meeting led to my membership in ANWA, a wonderful writing community, and writing conferences. ANWA has put on a fabulous conference each time I have attended. The workshops,  classes, opportunities, and camaraderie are phenomenal. The conference is open to anyone who wants to attend. If you are interested at all in writing, check out this wonderful opportunity. Information can be found on the ANWA website under the 'Conference' link or click here to go directly there.

Stages

Today I spent an hour in kindergarten helping with 'workshop'. Workshop is a series of activities the adorable little kindergarteners do ranging from their name, the day and date, patterns, number writing and recognition, letter writing and recognition, a treat if they finish nine of the activities, etc.

They are at a variety of stages in their learning even at this early stage. Some have had the preparations provided by preschool and others are starting from scratch. They really are adorable--I wasn't sarcastic in saying that in the previous paragraph. They are so eager to learn and so happy to be at school. What a great hour spent. (side note: kindergarten is my speed as opposed to teenagers who I cannot keep up with).

In our writing, we all have to start somewhere. Some of us are just starting our learning journey, others of us are in the middle and some of us have many published books under our belt. What if we had given up in the middle of kindergarten? We cannot give up now. We must keep learning and keep working at becoming better. So, until next time, Write On my friends!

Winner

And the winner is de Circuit from Jodi Ford! I will be sending her the prize this week. Thanks for all your suggestions everyone!

Desert Rain

One day last week the weather had enough of her boring sunshine. A haboob gusted into the valley. (side note: that's such a fun word to say and it always throws your audience. They look at you thinking, "Did she just say 'boob'?" No, I said 'haboob'. It's another name for a dust storm.)

So, back to my story... The wind blew all day. I hate the wind. But it didn't care. Every time I looked out the window I saw palm fronds swaying all over the place. They seemed to scream, "Stop the madness." But it went on.

Finally, that evening, the haze cleared revealing dark clouds. I went outside to gather up all the pool towels that had blown hither and yon. (Yes, Mom, I should have done it before the haboob but you know how I like to procrastinate).

I breathed deep. Ah, desert creosote. Mmm. You desert dwellers know what I'm talking about. Rain in the desert enhances the scent of the creosote bush (pronounced cree uh sote). Some people don't like the smell (the spanish word for the bush translates as 'little stinker') but it is one of my favorite smells. Maybe it's because I love the rain but I digress.

I raised my face to the heavens and a little spattering of rain sprinkled my face. I gazed from the south to the west, from the north to the east. The limited visibility of earlier was gone. The clean, clear air revealed mountains all around. Yes, they're out there and for the first time that day I could see them.

As I thought about it, I considered the book I'm trying to finish editing. It's been a laborious process for me and sometimes I just want to throw up (literally vomit). But, I need to think like the weather. I'm going to blow in and change things, cut things, add things, stir things up and like the rain, come through and clean it all up to leave behind something enjoyable. Can I also do it in one day, please? Stop laughing, a girl can dream!

Write on my friends!