Today I had a scene I didn’t want to write.

I began it last night, but stopped before things went down, because a) I wasn’t sure exactly how everything would happen, and b) I’d met my word count for the day.

The scene: the MC confronts a relation at a very public, oh-lookit-the-community’s-all-here event. Yesterday, I kept running through my head all the options that would let MC off the hook–extricate herself without a huge public blowup. Her life really isn’t the public’s business, and she has more than enough on her plate already without having to deal with that kind of humiliation and stress. I found a solution that would do the trick, involving a different (and private) blow up later on.
It was all settled.

Except, when I woke up this morning, I knew it wasn’t.
The easy way out is, well, the easy way out, and there’s no way (in the world of my story) the MC’s relation wouldn’t throw the Screaming Fit From Hell. There just wasn’t.

I’m always saying that if you remain true to your characters, your story will write itself, because in any given situation there’s only so many ways your characters will act. They are who they are, this is how they behave, and if you want them to act differently you’ll have to change the situation–not the people.

So I sat at my computer with my coffee and headphones and wished myself anywhere else. Wishing my MC anywhere else–in a life where she didn’t have to go through this sticky, public hell.
But she isn’t, she just has her life.
And it’s not fair.
Or maybe it’s just me.
Because I made her deal.
The relation went from zero to sixty, bringing up resentments even I, as the author, didn’t know existed. The whole room went silent as everyone in the community got to hear a load of total, unjust bs about my MC, and I Hated. Every. Second. Of. It.

But I wrote it anyway, because that’s how it happened.

Because if her life was easy, my MC wouldn’t be who she is.

Because if she can’t overcome this, she’s not the person I take her for.

A new design for a new year, plus a new resolution: blog at least once a week. If the snow stays intent on keeping my driveway buried, this should not be hard.

2009 was a dreadful year all round for myself, my family, and most of my friends. Family sentiment especially was “Thank God it’s over.” However, when it wasn’t bashing us over the head with large, spiky sticks, ‘09 did try, every once in a while, to redeem itself.

the life and times of a YA writer

Began Violet my current work in progress (WIP), and finished & revised Kit, my second novel. No, these are not titles. They’re characters.

Lost the ability to attend my Wednesday morning group (regained it later) and so joined a couple night critique groups. I love them, especially the one that meets at IHOP. Not only do I get excellent feedback and advice, I can get my monthly dose of egg nog pancakes.

(Speaking of egg nog, Shatto’s is all kinds of wonderful. The best on the market.)

I’ve discovered the joys of reading on my iPhone – Stanza’s my favorite, but Kindle’s good too. Never thought I’d be an ebook person, but it’s wonderful to curl up anywhere and read. My books are always with me–including some as yet unpublished goodies by friends.

(More: what 2009 got right)

In sculpture, a theory persists that the statue is already inside the stone – the sculptor just needs to chip away the unnecessary bits. I have a similar theory (but more involved and weirder, since I do most of my work on a computer). I believe design creation is a fluid puzzle with talking pieces. Sometimes they sing about how they fit together, they whisper in the details, and before I any conscious thought into it, the finished work is floating happy on the screen.

In photography, the pieces are the hinted emotions – the lines and colors, the overall feel that I want to emphasize or downplay.
In web design, they’re the style and theme, dictating how the text shows up and which points are emphasized. When the pieces are chatty, the design process simply flows – smooth, uncomplicated, fast, fun.
In writing, the pieces are my characters. They have definitive ideas on everything. If you know your people, your scenes will write themselves. In any given situation, there’s only so many things a character will do if he remains true to himself.

This is all well and good, until the pieces go off to have a smoke and flat out refuse to show up. They can be fickle that way.

Juvenile Writers of Kansas City Classic is a collection of people focused on writing and publication. They offer several critique groups around town, I attend the one on Wednesday mornings because it’s close and fun.
(Read more…)