Friday, June 8, 2007

Work in Progress: When to Say Goodbye

Sorry that this is a little long. I haven’t figured out how to do a blog jump to another page (technical advice always welcome). I think I’ve been inspired by Josh Henkin's “Letter to an MFA Student” this week on Buzz, Balls & Hype. Enough throat-clearing….

I’m teaching a fiction workshop at Johns Hopkins University, and last week, at our first meeting, one of the students asked a difficult question: Are there books that simply can’t get published, and what should that mean to a beginning writer? When should we give up on a book (or a story)? The question stuck with me throughout the week because it’s so hard to answer definitively.

Of course, only the writer can make that difficult decision about when to give up on a project; I don’t think it’s a teacher’s place to specifically tell a student to move on (though some might disagree). So, how do you as the writer—beginning or experienced—know when to abandon something and take what you’ve learned and move forward with your knowledge, applying it to something new? Certainly it’s much easier to leave behind a 10-page story you’ve been working on for a month than a 300-page novel you’ve been working on for three years.

I’m a big believer in persistence and perseverance—and have my share of stories to support that: the short story that 25 journals rejected before it won $500 in a contest (and became the first chapter of Pears on a Willow Tree); the journal that had rejected my story then called up three months later to tell me they “loved” my story that they had just found in a drawer (this story was then cited in the back of the Best American Short Stories); the dozens of queries I sent out before finding an agent—not once, but twice. I wrote three novels that didn’t get published. And certainly I have plenty of short stories that I thought were perfectly fine—and some even more than fine—that didn’t ever get published that I had to choose to abandon.

But this perseverance also has to be balanced with moving forward. In all those instances, though I was still committed to the project in question, I had also moved forward in a variety of ways: I kept sending out the stories to other places, I had already started another novel while waiting to find an agent.

And that’s the key, I think, to finding the proper balance. People will offer various tidbits of advice, much of it valid:
--Don’t give up until you’ve lost interest and can’t stand your book anymore
--Don’t give up until you now see and understand why the piece is not successful
--Don’t’ give up until you’ve literally sent it everywhere you can, A to Z in the agent book
--Don’t give up until you’ve rewritten your book or story so many times you can’t see straight

But this is the piece of advice that makes the most sense to me, given my past experience: Write something new, and that will lead you to the point where you know it’s time to give up. More concisely, Don’t give up until you write something new.

I think that’s the thing that makes us know when we’re ready to move forward: when we’ve written more books or stories and in doing so, we’ve reached a new point from which to evaluate earlier work. We’re so engaged by a new project that we can dispassionately see the flaws in the old, but we don’t feel the energy or zeal or need to rewrite again; that’s when we can let go. (And letting go doesn’t mean you’ve “failed”—it just means you’re moving on.) Or, we’re so engaged by the new project that we can see that it’s simply time to let go of the old because we want to focus on the new—again, which isn’t failing. It doesn’t have to mean that the old was “bad”—something can be entirely successful on your terms and still not get published. Getting published should never be used as the total benchmark of what’s “successful.” Plenty of crap is published, plenty of great literature struggles. The Great Gatsby was out-of print when Fitzgerald died; same with Faulkner’s work at his death. Emily Dickinson wasn’t published during her lifetime; Walt Whitman self-published “Song of Myself.” We know the stories. (And who knows what great works have fallen through the cracks?). Publishing is about making money, not necessarily about making art.

In graduate school, I think there’s a temptation to view each piece as the “masterwork” and the thesis as the life’s mission. Many years after getting my MFA, I returned to my alma mater as a returning “visiting writer,” and I shocked a huge room of MFA students (and some profs) by announcing that my thesis was crap and that I was happy now it hadn’t been published.

Yes, MFA students should be proud of their thesis as they write it and must put hard work into it to make it as perfect as it can be. And going through an MFA program and finishing a thesis and getting a degree is a tremendous achievement. But if you’re a serious writer, this thesis most likely will not be the only thing you write. And—because you will continue to write and read and grow as a person and have new life experiences that shape you—it probably will not be the best thing you write. Have confidence that you will improve. Be persistent, but always keep your eye on whatever’s lurking around the next bend. Writing is a path without limits, without constraints. Your best work may be just ahead, the piece you start tomorrow. Or the one after that. Or after that.

That’s where your perseverance is most necessary: to keep writing in the face of rejection.

I was on a panel this spring with Carolyn Parkhurst, author of the best-selling and wonderful novels The Dogs of Babel and Lost and Found, which is about a TV reality show (and is just about to be released in paperback). She’s a very down-to-earth person, and very smart, and when this topic came up, it was not all that surprising that she quoted a Doritos commercial from several years ago: “Crunch all you want. We’ll make more.”

That is, you won’t run out of ideas. You won’t run out of stories. The only thing you’ll run out of, eventually, is time. And the only way to address that is to squeeze a lot in: write a lot and write well and move forward. Trust yourself, trust that your work will only get better.
~~Leslie Pietrzyk

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

In Which I Am Immortalized in Verse!

This will be the most self-indulgent thing you will ever see on this blog…I hope. I had a wonderful time out in Leesburg talking about dialogue as part of the Northern Virginia Writers First Friday—a great, attentive audience who also had some excellent ideas on resources for dialogue/character research. Excellent cookies for treats. Sufficient handouts. Well-organized event. Treated to a fun dinner beforehand with great company. What could be better?

How about seeing the event memorialized in verse?

Here is the poem Linda Budzinski wrote about my talk. I find it charming and hilarious, and since I can’t count on anyone else writing a poem about me anytime soon, I thought it was important to celebrate the occasion. And, she really did capture a lot of my tips about dialogue…so perhaps this is not entirely self-indulgent!

Talk the Talk

’Twas the first Friday in the month of June and at the Leesburg Town Hall
There gathered a crowd, men and women, young and old, budding wordsmiths all.
From far and near, they came to hear the author of A Year and a Day
Share her tips for their manuscripts – what you should and should not say.

“I hope each of you is well tonight,” Leslie smiled as she began the meeting.
“In dialogue, you must get to the point. Do not waste words on greetings.
As you all know, ‘dialogue’ means two or more characters talking.
But please do not use it for exposition,” she continued squawking.

“I also suggest that it is best if you use contractions,” she lectured.
“Otherwise, you will find that your speech sounds stilted,” she conjectured.
“Pick everyday words your characters would use. Make sure you keep it real.
Supercilious verbiage simply functions to detract from the appeal.”

“Well, let me see, what else can I tell you?” she inquired on that same night.
“Um, well, I guess I would just say, keep your dialogue clean and tight.
And in regard to dialogue tags: Simplest is best,” Leslie chanted.
“The character’s words should express the emotion, not the tag,” she ranted.

Now you can see how much I learned from Leslie’s presentation.
My manuscripts will truly sparkle wherever there is conversation.
But perhaps the most useful tip Leslie gave me on that night,
Was “Read all your dialogue aloud to make sure it sounds correct.”
~~Linda Budzinski


About: Linda Budzinski has worked for eighteen years in non-profit communications and marketing. She is currently director of communications for an international trade association based in Sterling, Virginia. She serves as publicity chair for the Northern Virginia Writers and has successfully promoted that group and its activities throughout the Mid-Atlantic.

Linda is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. She graduated from Indiana University of Pennsylvania in Indiana, Pennsylvania, with a degree in journalism and a minor in communications media. Check out her fabulous new literary blog!

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Read This Now!

This is the first part of a great essay about the problems with what people are trying to pass off as literary writing today. All I can say is, "Ditto, ditto, ditto." Check out Buzz, Balls & Hype tomorrow and Thursday for the continuation. If those parts are half as insightful as today's, I'll be out of a job as a writing teacher.

If 200 Writers on a Mountain All Type at 200 Typewriters...

If you’re looking to have a working vacation this summer (or thinking ahead to fall), here’s a handy site to search for a writer’s conference. From the home page:

“The Writers’ Conferences & Centers (WC&C) website is designed to be a valuable resource for writers and students looking for information about attending a particular writing conference, center, festival, or retreat. WC&C represents the most established and respected writing conferences and centers in North America and abroad. Please feel free to use our Member Directory or Event Calendar to find helpful information regarding application deadlines and procedures, conference faculty, tuition, scholarships, complete program descriptions, and much more.”

If you plan ahead, next year you can apply for a $500 scholarship to be used at a member conference of your choice. The deadline is in the spring.

I’ve been to both Bread Loaf and Sewanee and would highly recommend either. I returned home exhausted, exhilarated, and ready to write…after I slept for about three days. I made friends and contacts. I encountered brilliant teachers who transformed my writing and taught me more in ten days than others taught me over a year, and listened to amazing readings that stilled a sweaty group of 200 people packed in stiff wooden chairs. Whatever you expect, the experience won’t quite be exactly like that, but I would bet real money that it will be memorable and worthwhile nonetheless. Where else can you explain to a bunch of sophisticated New York writers what a Rice Krispies treat is and why one showing up at the lunch table is a Very Good Thing?

Strut Your Stuff, Poets

Poets, here’s a call for readers that sounds interesting. (Of course, I’m always looking for an excuse to go to New York.)

Cornelia Street Café is looking for readers to take part in a series for Post-MFA / Pre-Book Poets. Three poets read for 15 minutes each. The poets then discuss the trials and tribulations of writing after the MFA and before finding a home for their manuscript.

The next reading is Wednesday, August 22nd, at 6:00pm.

To be considered to read, please email 6 pages of poetry to: ale_grace AT hotmail.com. No attachments: please put the poems in the body of the email and use “poetry” as the subject of your email.

The Cornelia Street Café is located at 29 Cornelia Street, New York, NY 10014.

Monday, June 4, 2007

A Little Knowledge Is a Dangerous Thing

Unfortunately, these sorts of things only encourage me. Over the weekend, I started wondering if I had just been recklessly spouting off with no basis in fact about the “Happy Birthday” song being copyrighted—I mean, isn’t the world filled with oddball urban legends, the Mexican pet that’s a rat, kids exploding from Pop Rocks, and such?

But it turns out I’m right! “Happy Birthday” is indeed under copyright. Its official name is “Happy Birthday to You,” and its use brings in $2 million ANNUALLY. (Remind me again why I’m wasting my time with books.) The copyright will expire in 2030, which would make me how many years old then? Never mind. Check out the whole story here. Also check out the variations on lyrics here, with one version that rhymes “happy birthday to you” with “stick your head down the loo.” Apparently Spanish kids sing a version that translates to “your green celery.” What’s up with that?

WIW Conference Reminder

A quick reminder: This weekend is the Washington Writers Conference, sponsored by Washington Independent Writers: Living On Words: Get Inspired, Get Writing, Get Published!

Date: Saturday, June 9, 2007
Time: 7:30 a.m. – 7:00 p.m.
Location: Cafritz Center at George Washington University
More info: Go here for more information and registration details (it’s not too late!).

I’ll be moderating a panel called Fiction Writing Tool Kit: 12+ Ideas to Use Tomorrow to Improve Your Writing, with novelists/short story writers Doreen Baingana, Amy Stolls, and Mary Kay Zuravleff.

Fourteen different sessions throughout the day cover everything from the practical aspects of writing to the creative process. Attendees will also have the opportunity to meet with agents (both fiction and non-fiction) and network. More info.

Work-in-Progress

DC-area author Leslie Pietrzyk explores the creative process and all things literary.