Itches and Feedback Dilemma

'Tis the season for spider bites, I guess.  I called the advice nurse and it sounds like I won't have to go in about it unless it starts to get extra icky, or I have red streaks or bright redness or I lose circulation in my foot (?!!)  In the meantime it's an itchy pain in the ankle.  I'm continuously distracted by it.  To keep it from really getting to me during the critique session today I covered it with a pirate-themed bandaid.  

Which, the critique went really well.  I'm not sure which way to go, because the group was pretty sharply divided.  I don't want to leave it alone until I'm done with the book either, because I know me, and me usually doesn't get back to feedback-focused editing unless me does it right away.  I'll sleep on it.  Tonight I plan on shaping up the next submission to the group, the next chapter in the book, and then I'll send it out.  I don't want to procrastinate on these subs. 

 If it weren't for David Levine's timely reminder about the meeting, I would have missed the deadline (I thought I had another week, eek!) and then I would have been in trouble.  Well, sort of.  We all would have had a nice round of drinks at my expense.  This time I'll have it all done in advance, and that'll give everyone more time to read, too.  Winners all around, except the Lucky Lab I guess.

Back to writing now.  I'll leave you with It (short for It Runs In Front of Me) in kitty zen meditation becoming one with the loops.

The Critique

The stack of papers is six inches high, and that doesn't count the spiral notebook.  

What's in this stack?

Hours, hundreds of man hours of work.  My writing, my heart, and the hearts, dedication and generosity of the people who critiqued Masks.  They went over the whole darned thing, every page.  Some of the manuscripts have every page marked.  Hundreds of pages.  That represents a tremendous amount of effort and stick-with-it.  I'm so humbled, and grateful.

And excited!

The critique today was impressive on many levels.  Everyone was insightful, thorough, well spoken.  And everyone was so passionate!  I didn't get the feeling from anyone that this was a wearying exercise in endurance.  If it was, they faked it well.  With some critiques lasting into the ten minute range, and nine of us altogether (if I'm counting right) that's over an hour in critiques and then me asking questions for who knows how long afterward about some tough editorial choices I had to make.  I wouldn't be surprised if the group spent two solid hours working with me on this.  Again, I'm humbled and grateful.

I'm especially grateful because they gave me so many fabulous ideas and gave me a good idea of where the work fell down.  I got the impression that it didn't fall down too far too often, but I think if I address the issues they brought up it will really shine.  

That's what it's all about!  Now I've got to turn myself about.  Or something like that.

Polishing

I didn't miss a day of blogging for anything in particular.  I met with my new accountant (yay! she's so wonderful I love her!) and handed over some paperwork, shopped at Costco, watched some X Files with the kids (this is their first time seeing it so it's xtra X filesy fun) and went over some manuscripts that are being critiqued today.  I suppose I was pretty darned busy, but I could have squeezed in a hi how r ya somewhere.  

I'm still stuck on the fight scene in the script, although I'm starting to get some ideas that will raise the stakes and hopefully make for a frightening or at least eerie magical fight.  The boy and I also discussed makeup.  I may have to raise his film budget to $20 instead of zero.

As far as the Lucky Labs meeting today, I will have one of my shorts critiqued.  This is the only one that's home right now so I'm eager to hear the comments, polish it up and ship it out.  I enjoy having them out in the big world instead of locked up in my hard drive where no one will see them.  It motivates me to write more stories, though at the moment the script has my writing time tied up.  

Have I thought about turning the script into a short story?  Only just now.  But it's more of a visual rather than a prose story.  The difference bothers me.  I feel like I'm not doing a good job of layering the visual medium, so I'll have to go back through with that in mind.  It also reveals how much sub plotting and layering I'm used to doing in prose work, and the level of depth I'm used to playing with.  In script form I feel like I'm only able to polish a mirror, while with prose I can step right inside.

Critiques from 50,000 feet and Empty Nest

I managed to get back from Lucky Labs despite losing my keys (in my purse, how embarrassing!) thanks to C.S.'s patience and wherewithal.  

It was a very intense meeting, covering an entire novel (not written by me.)  The downside proved to be that there's so much information cascading in that it can be overwhelming.  On the upside, having that overview and perspective (as D. put it, the view from 50,000 feet) is great.  So I'm really looking forward to the time when the Lab Rats take on my novel.  I like intense and I like perspective.  These things are my friends.  So I'll be smiling and happy when the Rats cut me open and dance around the pub with my entrails.  La la la la la!  The gent on the chopping block took it very well, amazingly well considering the level of, ahem, honesty.  I think he's going to make it.  It takes guts and heart to endure a long critique.  

Now I'm thinking about entrails again.

And I'm thinking about honest critiques and belief in the story and how those two energies combine to help shape a story.  A critique is candlelight shining from the nightstand.  It's the writer that makes love in the bed.  So hopefully the author will go home, think about everything everyone said, and start reaching deeply into himself to start creating the story anew.  

I don't think editing after a critique is about fixing what's on the page, unless I'm satisfied with what's there and the reactions I'm getting from people I trust.  That sort of line edit and cleaning up is just a peck on the cheek before I ship the story off into the wide world.  I think it's about discovery and passion and molding and really getting in there and feeling while I write with a focus on expression and revealing meaning.

On a side note, it's been kind of lonely on the submission front.  I think I've got empty nest syndrome.  Nothing to do, I guess, but write more stories so I can start marketing them too.  Now that I'm in the habit of making submissions, when I don't have anything to send out on Monday I feel like I'm just spinning my wheels.  This is good, I know--I've finally got the marketing thing ingrained enough that I miss it when I have nothing to send out.  But it's also a sign that my portfolio isn't very deep.  I don't want to reach back and pull out old stories.  So I guess I have to come up with more ideas for shorts and write them.

The psychic poopyhead practical guru

I had a really stellar time writing today, pestering people who were trying to accomplish real writing, hunting for right words, getting new material hand written on a page (how romantic and old-fashioned, ooo!) all followed by a handsome dinner and a great time yammering at my buds about how great I am and how great my husband is.  Man, I'm insufferable.  Ain't it great?

A topic that came up revolved around critiques.  How much and to what level writer, specifically.  I don't have any humble opinions today since I'm busy being insufferable, so here's the deal.  

We already know that although it's nice to have your typos and blatant grammatical errors pointed out to you, line editing is not what critiquing is really about so almost none of a critiquer's time is spent on line by line stuff except noting awks, unnecessaries, passives, highlighting echo words and such.  Right?  Good.  So what's all the time being spent on besides just regular reading?  It's trying to put into words why you like or hate the character, the source of confusion, noting with !!! places where you're surprised (hopefully in a good way) and things of that nature.  If something really leaps out then you write a more detailed note about it.  

What if the writer is a novice or struggling or whatever?  How helpful is it to have a manuscript dropped in your lap dripping in red ink?  The answer to that varies, depending on how fast you learn, whether you have enough self-confidence to understand that this is one (very red) opinion and you can choose to ignore it all, and whether the comments are presented in a way that makes sense to you.

The critiquer has to be part psychic, part guru and part practical poopyhead.  The psychic part is guessing based on your magical powers of human observation what quantity and quality of comments will help the writer improve their manuscript.  The guru part is to be more of a guide or pointer than a hander of information.  A hander of information says here's what you need to do.  Do it.  The guru says the answer you seek is somewhere over there in the bushes, or maybe by the creek, I'm not sure but I thought I saw it there.  Go get it!  Good luck!  The practical poopyhead is a minimalist who not only looks out for the interests of art but protects himself from overcommitting for no good reason.  Is there any reason to spend three days sweating over someone else's two thousand word humorous and write out a critique that's a ten times longer than the story?  Don't waste your time (that's the poopyhead part, but actually, you're not being selfish--you're keeping yourself from burning out) and don't heap all that sweat and analysis onto someone who probably doesn't want or benefit from it (the practical part.)  

Some writers never get critiques from anyone except maybe their editor.  Others (like me) depend on wise and generous critiques offered freely and with good intentions to get their stories into decent shape.  For those of us who use critiques, and give them, it's a good idea to examine the nature of the beast to figure out what you're giving as well as what you're getting.  It's a learned skill.  Observation, practice, feedback--these are my friends.

There's peril and victory and gratitude and remorse as both the critiquer and the writer but in the end, all that really matters is whether the critiques improve self-expression.  If they do, then shine on.

I'm sitting, dazed, thinking about what a big day I've had.  That's about as far as my brain wants to travel.  Like a tired dog it'll follow along just behind me if I walk, but then it sits down as soon as I stop.  

Nothing bad happened.  Nothing extraordinary.  I mowed, the kids and I took the dogs for a walk, spent some time with my DH before he left for work, did a little shopping, rented movies and watched one (Stand and Deliver) and managed email.  I sent some pics of the cedar waxwings to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology--they'd had cedar waxwings on their minds and might include them in informational stuff about providing food for birds.  Maybe one of my pics will end up on a poster or on their website.  That would be fun.

On the writing front, I'll be getting feedback for Sin tomorrow.  This flash has me stumped, but that's no surprise.  I haven't mastered short fiction, or even gotten out of the Kindergarten for Short Fiction Writers.  I expect after INK and Lucky Labs are done with it, I'll have a much better idea of how to approach Sin.  

It made me smile to write that.

Pen, or Sword, Whatever Gets the Job Done, for Hire

First of all, a big Yay! and thank you to the Lucky Labs for the comments on "I Remember the War."  After some spiffing up, I hope to have that story shipped off to the best paying market I can find.  I am, when it comes down to marketing, terribly mercenary.  When I'm writing it's all about the craft and the magic of transmitting a world in my brain into someone else's brain, and the fact that I can't stop writing even if I wanted to.  Which I don't.  I don't think I could handle the aggravation of that much creative juice fermenting (aka rotting) in my subconscious.  It's worse than testosterone poisoning.  I just gotta get it out of me.

Now I'm all thinking about sexual tension and release.  

I'm back now.

When I'm not actively writing, though, I try to think like a professional.  The most altruistic I get about the story is that I'd very much like it to end up somewhere where folks can read and hopefully enjoy it.  I like making people happy and it's neat to think that something I wrote could affect someone in a positive way, or at least give them a fun ride.  But I'm not relying on my words to provide immortality or some such.  The words have enough work to do without having to lug my sorry butt around.  When the tale is told, it's time for business.  That's how writers  sustain themselves so that they can write the next story.  Starving artists, well, starve.  And they don't get read by very many people if they end up 'publishing' on their own blog.  If you think about it, no one wins if the sale doesn't happen.  Well, I guess no matter what my cats win, because I'll always provide a warm lap during writing time and I'll leave the keyboard to feed them if they demand to be fed, or I'll get them water, or I'll tickle a chin before flinging the fuzzy demon off the computer desk.  Then it's time to delete all the catpaw words.

But I digress.  A lot.

So thanks again, and not just to the Lucky Labs but also to INK and all my patient readers who do a very good job of not rolling their eyes when I tell them I've got something new and I'd like them to take a peek at it.  I don't always express my gratitude, but man oh man, I would not have gotten very far without the many, many hours people (some of them complete strangers) have devoted to improving my prose.  May you receive many happy returns.  

And now it's time for me to strap on my weapons and go earn me a paycheck in the grand ol' mercenary tradition.  Where did I leave that sword laying around?  Gotta be around here somewhere ...