Announcements

Hi, all!

Just wanted to write quickly and let you know that our last class for the summer will be NEXT Friday, July 27, 2012.  I repeat, since I have summer brain, that there is NO CLASS this Friday, July 20, and the LAST CLASS will be Friday, July 27.

For that class, the assignment is to apply any of the genres we have discussed thus far (mystery, romance, and action/adventure).  It can be a story on your list to write or it can be a revision of a story that you have written that just doesn't have the oomph you want it to.

I will do my best to throw in a post in here to talk about revising for a combination of these genres, but I'm guaranteeing nothing.  Summer is much more work than I remembered it.

Hope you all are having a terrific time.  I hope to see you Friday, July 27, but if not then, I hope to see you after Labor Day!

Mystery

Why do we love mystery?  Personally, I think it's because mystery invites our active participation in the story.  Obviously, the protagonist doesn't have the answer and we need to "help" look for it.

How does this translate to life writing?

While there are true-crime memoirs, they certainly aren't the bulk of the genre, yet mystery has a lot to offer us as well. From a life writing perspective, I can think of at least three ways that mystery translates into common stories:

• The lessons of life--where babies come from, "like liking" someone, understanding what your parents meant by becoming a parent--which tend to be humorous, but not always
• Coping with/Discovering a hard truth--how far money goes, dealing with a problem that is really unsolvable--these tend to be more serious and cognitive, and they are often poignant as well.
• Coming to terms with people who are not what they seem--being dumped, divorced, cheated, betrayed--these tend to be traumatic.

A few threads link mysteries, and I hope to look at them in more detail later, but for the moment, here they are:

• Mysteries are a search for cause and often blame.
• Mysteries often assume that there is a right answer and that there is justice.
• Many mysteries, though certainly not all, appeal mainly to our logic and the emotions that they evoke tend to be ones that make our hearts race, not break.
• While eventually leading to answers and therefore "sight," much of a mystery is about inscrutability.  We never know everything fully--sometimes it is what the protagonist is thinking (take Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie), sometimes it is what the antagonist is thinking (take Crime and Punishment), and sometimes it is a realistic or complete view of the environment (Edgar Allan Poe's work), or something else.
• Mysteries are about exploration.  If we view a novel as a maze, we never expect to go directly to the center of a mystery.  Truth be told, no novel's protagonist should ever go straight where he/she anticipates going, but in a mystery, we readers expect that we won't get it right from the get go whereas we are more "surprised" when things bomb in other types of stories.

So hopefully this has you thinking, and I will try to give you a practical outline very soon.

Tantalizing

So this week we're learning to get more out of our moments.  Four steps will help you pull out the feeling of "being there" or "seeing it from a different perspective."  Simply, those steps are:

1. Write down what is actually happening. 
2. Describe the physical effect of that action on the character/surrounding (i.e., "Show.  Don't tell.").
3. Describe the emotional effect of that action on the character.  In addition to emotion, this can also encompass the intelligences the character as we discussed earlier.
4. Refer concretely to other stories in the past that make that incident more significant.

As we have discussed before each of these steps has smaller steps to help you achieve your goal.

I am going to give you an example of how to do this, and I am using the process I followed to write the piece, "Cotton Candy."

Before you can write down what is actually happening moment-by-moment, you need to know what story you're telling so that you have chosen to reveal the best moments possible.  So when you actually begin writing, the first step is to tell, not show:

• Because I wanted my own bag of cotton candy every year that I went to Kennywood, I bought a bag for each of my sons and nephew when I took them to Kennywood this year.

Then I decide how I'm going to tell this story.  More specifically, which story arc do I want to use?

• I decide I am going to write this story of longing as a romance.  In other words, I am going to use the primary plot points (1. Boy meets girl. 2. Boy and girl let their characters shine. 3. Boy and girl overcome obstacles which stand in the way of their relationship. 4. Ever after.) to evoke a desirable response from the audience.  In this case, the desirable response is that the audience should share the longing I felt and therefore understand my impulse purchase of three bags of cotton candy.

Now that I have an idea where I'm going, I can actually prepare to add the showing, I need to pull out my plot points.  You don't actually need to do all of this on paper--most of it we actually do in our head.  But for the sake of helping you see it all done, I am putting it down:

• Boy meets girl: when I encounter the cotton candy.
• Boy and girl let their characters shine: description of cotton candy through my eyes shows both the character of the cotton candy as well as my own.
• Boy and girl overcome obstacles which stand in the way of their relationship: I get cotton candy in spite of the resistance of my parents--and I also give it to my family in spite of my mother.
• Ever after: Mom was right.  We had too much cotton candy.

Now that I have outlined the points, now I move to step 2 and start to show the details.  I begin with the actions--walking past the cart on the way out.  Note that when you describe the actions, you also describe the relevant details of setting.  I spend a great deal of time on the cart.  I don't tell you about the rides I pass, the condition of the sidewalk, or the other people around; those details are unimportant.  Remember that we want to focus on the areas noted in the plot point:

• encountering the cotton candy and its description 
  
  The glistening red cotton candy caboose stands immediately before the exit tunnel of Kennywood Park.  With the sunlight of the dying day painting the clean shiny windows of the caboose brilliant shades of orange and gold, the wind tosses the sugary scent from the mouth of the cotton candy drum, out the open front and onto the breezes where its slightly cloying candy fragrance assaults most adult nostrils and nauseates many grown up stomachs.  But to the still snub-noses of those four feet and under, the sweet sensation that even in the air sticks to the back of our throats tantalizes, and like a Pied Piper of Perfume, it beckons us from the four corners of the park.
  
• overcoming the resistance of my parents
  
• referencing the problem:
  
  No matter which path your father took or how sneaky your mother thought she was, you had to pass it on your way out.
  
• Showing the problem:
  
  Instead, I propelled my parents toward the exit and that beautiful caboose.... It didn’t really matter which parent I pushed, though, because at the end of the day, Mom was immune to whining, and Dad was aggressive toward anything standing between him and the car....“One.”  That was my mother’s final word.  Just one bag of cotton candy, rationed very carefully to three small children once they were safely in the backseat of the car.... Every year, my mother carefully handed two puffs of the fluffy stuff to us over the back of the seat.  Two meager mouthfuls apiece... “Later,” she would say.  “You can have some more tomorrow.”  ... The morning after Kennywood, the crystalized strips cotton candy would be on the floor, stuck to the linoleum in front of the counter.
  
• Overcoming the problem:
  
  With the very last money I had, and just to spite my mother who never once bought me my own bag of cotton candy, I paid for three bags—one each for my two sons and their cousin who went to the car with Daddy.  They went home with sticky chins and sugar shivers, but they were happy.
  
• Mom was right
  
  In spite of my spite, though, I discovered Mom was right.  Ten days later, I still have bags of cotton candy (and no poodles to feed it to).

Notice that I do occasionally tell ("I discovered Mom was right"), but I also back it up here with show ("Ten days later, I still have bags of cotton candy (and no poodles to feed it to").  You notice then that my actions are fairly limited (check out the underlining in the passage above where I have highlighted my actions).  Such may be the case in many of your childhood memories with your parents as well.  We are obeying, which often leaves little to say that we did.

But this is where you come into the feelings--and also why I chose "romance" and not "adventure" for my story-arc here.  The emphasis here is on feelings and longing, not action. When I say that we want to know how you felt, I don't mean "I wanted cotton candy so badly I thought I would die."  I mean is"But to the still snub-noses of those four feet and under, the sweet sensation that even in the air sticks to the back of our throats tantalizes, and like a Pied Piper of Perfume, it beckons us from the four corners of the park."  This selection isn't explicitly how I felt, but it does refer to the pull of the candy on children of which I am one.

Here are some explicit examples of adding feelings (or feeling-like additions) to the same story-arc:

• encountering the cotton candy and its description 
  
  Fascination:  I can clearly remember how the aching in my feet evaporated once that smell hit my nostrils on those summer nights as my parents literally dragged us from the park. 
  
  Longing/Magnetism:  Somewhere around the Jackrabbit, I would catch the scent and no more pulling was necessary.
  
  Desire: Even now, my mouth waters at just the thought of that ubiquitous aroma, like a fog of fluff blanketing the area.
  
  Desire:  His eyes filled with longing. The sweetness was so stuck in his throat he couldn’t even make words.
  
  Excitement: revived by the prospect of sugar. 
  
• overcoming the resistance of my parents (Note:  The story actually shows this section three times--initially we overcome Dad's resistance, then Mom's, then my kids overcome mine.  Your story will likely have more than one obstacle as well.)
  
• referencing the problem:
  
  Parent doesn't care:  Mom was immune to whining,
  
  Other parent is hostile:  and Dad was aggressive toward anything standing between him and the car.
  
• Showing the problem:
  
  Longing/Begging:  “Please!  Please!” I cried. (This is the show.)
  
  Frustration:  I was never very good at grabbing the sympathies of my parents, (This is a tell, and I will get to this later.)
  
  More frustration: Every time I heard that word, my watery mouth went dry and my heart, which had been in my throat with anticipation, plunged into my stomach where it attempted to fill the area that would never get enough cotton candy.
  
• Overcoming the problem:
  
  Sympathy: No one ever refused my sister. (tell) Without ado, my sister turned her big brown eyes on my father.  (show) Her eyes are the spitting image of his mother’s and his sister’s eyes, and my father could never tell one of them, “no,” either. (show and tell--we can see the mother and sister but I don't actually describe my father's response much.)
  
  Sorrow/Mourning (not overcoming my problem): Two meager mouthfuls apiece.
  
  Triumph:  there was a gleam of satisfaction in Suzy’s eyes.  She was not sorry.
  
  Spite:  With the very last money I had, and just to spite my mother who never once bought me my own bag of cotton candy, I paid for three bags
  
  Satisfaction:  They went home with sticky chins and sugar shivers, but they were happy.
  
• Mom was right
  
  Resignation/Frustration: In spite of my spite

Notice that I actually have used very few "feeling" words, but you note the feeling from reactions, implications, and actions which are further supplemented by description (for example, the "revived by the prospect of sugar" modifies "'Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!' shrieked the little one".  Therefore the concrete which could be taken a variety of ways is given an emotional meaning with the tag "revived by the prospect of sugar." 

 Aside:  Some writers would argue this point and would leave off the tag.  I would tender that those writers (1) don't write romance (the ones that I know who actually endorse leaving off emotion write literary fiction); and (2) they trust their reader (although they don't spend too much time with the average reader).  I, who have spent a good deal of time tutoring, working cross cultures, listening to a variety of close readings, and hanging out with readers of all kinds of stuff (not just high literary works), submit that many readers don't get the writer's point.  And I don't mean that in a bad way.  In fact, the ones who miss the point with the most atrociousness are sometimes academics (not all, just some) who are so invested in their interpretation, not only miss the point but try to invalidate everyone else's interpretation.  Other interpretations, though, can be enormously helpful.  As a writer, I love that literary works have the ability to survive their times and affect those of other languages, countries, and periods.  Other interpretations are no less valid or useful to life.

Based on the aside, though, I suggest that if you have a point that you don't want your reader to miss, state it a little forcefully or provide enough hints that it's much harder to miss.  If it's not important, let it go and don't overstate.

Now, I want to take a quick look at the second part of step 3.  Not all of our reactions are emotional.  Sometimes we are dealing with other ways that we process our world, and that also reveals our inner character.  These will become especially important when we come to talking about mystery, so I want to really point them out here:

• Whoever designed the park must have had children in mind.  It was absolutely unavoidable.  No matter which path your father took or how sneaky your mother thought she was, you had to pass it on your way out.
• Personal intelligence:  understanding the thoughts of children
• Kinesthetic/Spatial-Visual: understanding how people had to move through the park
• Mom was immune to whining, and Dad was aggressive toward anything standing between him and the car.
• Personal intelligence: understanding motivation
• I was never very good at grabbing the sympathies of my parents, but I could alert my sister to begin begging.  No one ever refused my sister. ... Her eyes are the spitting image of his mother’s and his sister’s eyes, and my father could never tell one of them, “no,” either.
• Personal intelligence: understanding my own lack of communication and my sister's expertise. Understanding my father's motivation.
• Logical-mathematical: developing a plan to get what I (we) want using my sister's abilities
• I think she hoped we would fall asleep in the car if she limited our sugar.  You would think that the fact that I never fell asleep in the car even once after the age of six months would have cured her of that hope (and maybe even convinced her that she could avoid whining with more cotton candy), but she never gave up.   
• Logical-mathematical: my logic about why Mom should give up.
• Personal intelligence: understanding Mom will never give up.
• Without fail, our dogs would get it.  Suzy, our small standard black poodle would greet my mother at the door and follow her every move until she put down that cotton candy.  My parents locked that dog in a cage every night, yet she managed to unlatch the top and jump out, squeeze through the bottom corner, or exact some other form of escape. 
• Logical-mathematical: Suzy's trailing of what she wants
• Kinesthetic: Suzy's ability to escape
  
• Again, you would think Mom would give up.  But she didn’t.
• Personal intelligence: understanding Mom never gives up
• Logical-mathematical: "You would think..." Appeals to the logic of the reader.

Some of these could be expanded if you wanted, but I don't think it is necessary.  Moreover, I do think that having the background is helpful, and I think that its inclusion is one aspect that separates written work from movies.  This is not a movie, and your appeal to thought-processing adds an additional layer of humanity.

Finally, step 4 is telling, but an important kind of telling.  You are going to support your story with back story that helps reveal information regarding character and situation that would take far more time to show than tell--time that would detract from your point (and this time constraint is key.  If you can show without detracting, then show.  But if your impact is lacking and you need more, then look for ways to tell "telling" details or stories to bolster your point).  This kind of telling can actually be a kind of showing if you do it right. 

Usually, two types of telling are in play here:

1. Allusion to stories and events in the cultural memory
2. Brief synopses of stories in the characters' pasts

Each has advantages and disadvantages. 

Allusion

1. Advantages
1. You can very quickly evoke emotions and morals associated with complex stories.
2. You can place your story in a genre, align a character with a protagonist or antagonist, or hint at an outcome in just a few seconds.
2. Disadvantages
1. When you are referring to the emotions surrounding an event in the cultural memory, you need to remember that there is a "lifetime" to those feelings.  V-J day has a completely different connotation in the US now (fear--of the power unleashed by the atomic bomb, guilt--at the wide-scale murder of innocents, faux-triumph--at the upcoming problems with Russia, the rebuilding of Europe, the establishment of Israel, and the problem of releasing all the colonies of Europe around the world as independent nations and incoprorating them in international organizations) than it did at the time it happened (joy, relief, triumph, hope).
2. The allusion is only as inclusive as the cultural group that shares it.  Common limiters are ethnicity, class, gender, and age.

Examples of allusion in the sample:

• Pied Piper:
• Advantage:  it immediately calls to mind the helplessness of the children lured by the piper as well as the strength and desirability of that lure
•  Disadvantage: it limits my audience.  Most likely, my non-European-heritaged friends may not recognize that story as it's not popular enough to learn in school and it was not a story told them by their parents.
• Visit to Kennywood Park:
• Advantage:  For those who grew up in Pittsburgh going to the park, the place names will clearly indicate exact distances and the experiences will likely invoke similar experiences of their own.
• Disadvantage:  It severely limits my audience to those who have visited Kennywood Park, namely those who have had geographic and economic opportunity to visit the park.

 Story Synopses:

1. Advantages
1. You quickly give a concrete illustration of a specific character trait.
2. Like spicing a soup, these back story pieces allow you to introduce wildly different flavors in a very short space.
2. Disadvantages
1. It's very hard to maintain a balance between showing and telling and very easy to resort to full telling rather than showing within a short space. 
2. These bits can be a distraction that can detract from your point if you don't use them well or if they get too long.

Examples of synopsis in this sample:

•  It didn’t really matter which parent I pushed, though, because at the end of the day, Mom was immune to whining, and Dad was aggressive toward anything standing between him and the car.
• I was never very good at grabbing the sympathies of my parents
• No one ever refused my sister.
• Her eyes are the spitting image of his mother’s and his sister’s eyes, and my father could never tell one of them, “no,” either.
• You would think that the fact that I never fell asleep in the car even once after the age of six months would have cured her of that hope
• My parents locked that dog in a cage every night, yet she managed to unlatch the top and jump out, squeeze through the bottom corner, or exact some other form of escape.
• as if he had forgotten that I had just given him a piggyback ride from the Log Jammer to the arcade where he was so tired that someone had to wiggle the butt of his motorcycle while he raced it, 

All of these stories share one advantage and a couple of disadvantages.  The advantage is that I was able to very quickly reveal something about the history/character of our family that explained motivation in this story that would otherwise not have been possible.  The disadvantages are that these synopses often disrupt the rhythm of the action, slowing the story, and distract from the main point.  I might be able to eliminate some of them, and that's something that I can revisit when I revise it, if I choose to do so.

One final advantage to adding these synopses though is not one related to the story itself but to your future stories.  Often, these synopses reveal crucial aspects of your history or your family's history that would be worthwhile expanding in a story of their own, which is something to consider as you proceed.

Happy writing!

Romance and Life Writing

When I first began life writing, I didn't really think that there was much romance as a genre could teach me.  I was incredibly wrong.

If you are ever interested in reading a terrific article outlining what romance is as a genre, then please read "The Basics of Romance" by Rita Clay Estrada and Rita Gallagher in The Complete Handbook of Novel Writing.  They do an excellent job of pointing out the story arc and characteristics that differentiate romance from the other fiction out there.  I will be going through their points in a moment to explain how these relate to your memoir in a moment.

Another terrific article which has relevance to our last assignment is "Emotion: Fiction's Connecting Link" by Kathy Jacobson and comes from the same book.  This article bridges that "show vs. tell" gap in a way that helps you know what to show and what to skip.  We'll look at pieces of this advice later.

But back to romance and your memoir...

What's it good for?

Essentially a romance is really a story about how two people come together.  They may be tied in many ways.  It may be a fairytale ending, or it may make Romeo and Juliet look positively optimistic.  But the basic plot of a traditional romance is simple, as explained by Estrada and Gallagher:

1. Boy meets girl.
   
   We all know this part of the story.  Estrada and Gallagher make the important point that in a true romance, "there are no other men for here--just as, from that point on, there are no other women for him..." (sorry, I haven't figured out a way to get a page number on the Kindle, but it's 61% of the way through the book).
   
   The relation to your memoir?  Well, you don't need to be writing a romantic romance, but you need to pick the moment that you recognize that the person you have introduced will be important to your life.  In other words, you don't actually have to begin your romance with the moment you met this person, but with the moment that they became important to you.
    
2. Boy and girl let their characters shine.
   
   Before we can care about them as a couple, we need to care about them individually.  Similarly, as you are writing about the development of the relationship you are writing about, you need to let us get to know the characters individually before we care about who they are together.
3. Boy and girl overcome obstacles which stand in the way of their relationship.
   
   This last bit can take a whole variety of courses, but essentially, it boils down to what Estrada and Gallagher call sexual awareness and sexual tension.  In a memoir, however, if you are simply discussing the development of a relationship, this awareness and tension need not be explicitly sexual.  The four rules Estrada and Gallagher pose, however, still hold very well:
   
   
   1. From the first meeting, they are aware of one another.
   2. When discussing this relationship, spend time in the relationship.  Show scenes together or scenes in which each person is thinking about, preparing for, or learning about the other.
   3. Every scene should bring about a change in feeling.  Estrada and Gallagher suggest, "Their emotions should strengthen, shake, threaten, and, as the book progresses, solidify the relationship."  Now, you are writing memoir, not fiction, so your scenes need not solidify the relationship, but each scene you choose to show should reveal the why and how your relationship has become what it has.
   4. Estrada and Gallagher post the last of these rules as, "The senses of the hero and heroine are sharpened when they are together."  I don't know that I would go that far, but I would definitely say that there should be a qualitative difference in how you or the other person in the relationship thinks and acts when you are together.  In other words, I wouldn't say that your senses have sharpened but that they are qualitatively different--or perhaps the other person allows a space within which new things become safe or possible for you to try.
      
4. Ever after.  Imply a future for your couple.  It does not need to be a happy future, but in order for us to feel resolution, we need to be pointed in some sort of direction.  And for that direction to feel satisfying and true, we need to have some preparation for it.  You need to have hinted you were heading that direction.  Of course, you could have thrown hints in all directions, and that's okay, too.  But we need to clearly know that there was some indication that we were going to head up in the place you suggest we will end up.

Do you have any relationships you can see this working for?  In my life, it definitely corresponds to the development of several friendships and in-law relationships.  In some ways, I can even see it working for understanding and bonding with my children.

So give it a try!  Soon, I will be posting on how Paedar's comment from the last post will work together with the emotional tension we want to achieve in romance.

Adding a Little Action to Your Adventure

When you're writing adventure, you almost always have action scenes.  What would be the fun of a quest if your knight never gets to slay his dragon?

But how do you make that dragon-slaying exciting?  I'm assuming that we've all heard our favorite fairy tale retold by a preschooler, and, let me tell you, much of the suspense and excitement is GONE in that version (except for in the mind of the little one).

There are a couple of really great articles on writing action, but so far, "Writing Action Scenes" is the best I've read.

In addition to Mice's (the author's) concerns about description, believability/logistics, and point-of-view, here are a couple of other considerations that I have seen used in excellent action scenes.

And before I get into these, let me admit right off the bat that I am action-deficient.  Something about action scenes generally makes me lose my way and get lost.  So the considerations below are strategies which seem to keep even the most hopeless action followers in the moment.

And they all boil down to this:  To enable the action to move quickly in your action scene, introduce the reader to everything important BEFORE you get to there.  Excellent examples of this strategy are found in J.K. Rowling and in Rick Riordan.

1. Make sure we know where we are.
   
   Often, in action scenes, the surroundings--what is hidden and what is not, who is where, what props/weapons are at hand, etc.--are very important.  It may be too much to take in at once.  Many of the best authors either build in a slow scene just prior to the action to allow us to take it all in before it becomes important, or they may gradually show the place throughout the story so that we know what's what when we get there.
   
2. Make sure we know everything important about what we're fighting with.
   
   If that gun only has six bullets, then we need to have seen that problem before the final fight so that after that fifth shot, we all know what's riding on the accuracy of the final try. 
   
3. Make sure we know who's fighting and their strengths and limitations.
   
   Come on, we all know what happens when Velma loses her glasses and we all know that Shaggy and Scooby are going to bug out of there when the monster shows.  We're always waiting for the dawn in vampire pictures, and everybody knows the guy in the black hat is in for it.  When we know either our specific character's weaknesses (Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby) or the weakness of a general class of characters (vampires and cowboys), then it allows us to just focus on the scene and not the justification for the characters' actions because we already know their motivation.

Adventure and Non-linear Writing

One of the first things we teach children when we teach them to read is left-to-right orientation.  In essence, we are saying, "Start at the beginning."  But we all know that much in life doesn't start at the beginning.  We all walk in on conversations in the middle.  If you're not the firstborn, it may really annoy you that people in your family remember what happened before you were born.  And I've certainly be remonstrated, "Can't you just use what's come before you?  Do you really have to reinvent the wheel every time?"

When you're writing, sometimes you want to start at the beginning.  But when you're only at the writing stage, it doesn't actually matter if you start writing there! Sometimes it's best to start in the middle or at the end.  Adventure is one of those times.

Because adventure is about change, sometimes it is best to start with who you want your character to become (or the aspects of yourself/character experiencing change that you want the reader to see) rather than beginning with how that character began.  Two of the reasons for taking this approach show its clear benefits:

1. By emphasizing the traits which the character develops through the quest at the end,  you can be certain that when you write the beginning at a later date that you pick actions, descriptions, dialogue, and scenes that illustrate either the absence or opposite of those traits.
2. By recognizing what has changed in the mind and actions of the changing character, you can make certain to highlight those moments of high action/drama with the thoughts/reasoning of the main character which brings him to the conclusion that he draws.  For example, a car accident in itself is not enough to make anyone come to any conclusion.  It is the rationalizations and reactions to the car accident that cause the protagonist to forego all future driving, decide to get driving lessons, or develop a feeling of immortality.  We all react differently, and it is not enough to show the event and expect us all to arrive at the same conclusion (yes, I know "show; don't tell," but you also need to show the thought process or we may miss your point! And, honestly, the longer I live the less obvious I think it is that people will just understand.  Most of us don't.  Really.).

So how would you go about picking the scene to begin with?  Here are some ideas:

• Write the scene that's bouncing around in your head first.  It should come out the most easily.
• Write the ending you would like to see, one that you feel will make you feel "full," as if you've just finished an excellent meal.
• Write a simple description of your character's philosophy/outlook on life at the end.  Then elaborate on that feeling by expanding those ideas to how your character's appearance might reflect those feelings--what bumper stickers would he have?  What kind of car would he drive, shoes would he wear, place would he live, etc.?  Then expand that to dialogue.  What jokes would he find funny now?  What things would he say or NOT say?  Finally, channel that into actions.  On the basis of his inner changes, what outer behaviors would manifest themselves?  What would he do if a homeless person begged him for money, if he had a gun in his face, if he was given incorrect change?

Once you have begun writing your scenes, be sure to plot them on your story arc so that you know where you're going and what you still need to do.

Happy writing!

Summer Reading and Life Writing

One of our fellow life writers mentioned a visit to a fiction writing group and a point that she felt certainly carried over into life writing:  reading other books in our genre.  And now, with summer reading starting this week, is the perfect time to jump in!

You can easily register for summer reading on Plum Library's website.  You do not need a special card from Plum Library, but you do need a library card with the Allegheny County Library Association.  You can check to find your closest ACLA library on their site.

Some memoirs recommended by your classmates were (check the Carnegie Library for availability.  You can request to have the books delivered to the library of your choice.):

• The works of Frank McCourt:  Angela's Ashes, 'Tis, and Teacher Man
• Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking and Shockaholic
• Tracy Elliott's Unbroken  

You can also find award-winning memoirs at A Reader's Place.

Memoirs I have enjoyed even if they haven't changed my life include:

• Steve Rushin's Road Swing  
• Anthony Youn's In Stitches  
• Margaret Overton's Good in a Crisis 

One caution I have heard about reading anything within the genre of your own writing is to take it all with a grain of salt.  Use what you find as a guide, not gospel.  Look for conventions.  How long are the chapters?  How does the narrative unfold?  How do they give you caveats?  Note what you like.  One comment from a colleague of mine also made me take notice.  Memoir and fiction are different.  Memoir involves a certain bit of your own thoughts--essay if you will.  Too much essay and we get bored or lost.  Not enough essay and we wonder what the point was.  Note which memoirs you really love and the balance of these two aspects.  Remember it as you write and also as (or "if") you query publishers.