Tell the Story

As I'm sure most of you are aware, Madeleine L'Engle has left us.

She's left us a number of wonderful books.

We read A Wrinkle in Time in school in the seventh grade...maybe the sixth, but I'd already read it. That's one of the few books I can remember my mom actually reading with me; thereafter, I'd just take them and read them myself.

The middle school reread was a good chance to face things about the book that I hadn't understood as a younger child, face my "weird" feeling about it, a kind of prickly discomfort edging on scared, I think. "Weird" or not (and I think to this day that it certainly was), it was good. Better than good. It was great.

Mrs. L'Engle's thoughts on the writing process have been quoted elsewhere, but the gist of it is that the magic that happens in writing, its meaning, isn't intended.

I know that I, personally, tend to get caught up in making sure that what I'm writing has weight and depth, that it would tug at my heartstrings (or, in some cases, tear them out and stomp on the pieces) as a reader. Is that a bad thing? Not necessarily. But when it gets in the way of me actually sitting down to write, then yes.

The very first thing any writer must do is tell a story. Depth, weight, and meaning come later. What we read for, first and foremost, is a story.

So tell the story.

Themes, YA, and Random Con Ruminations

I don't even know if "ruminations" is a word right now; I'm fried enough to actually think I can write a decent blog post, so here goes.

I just got home from a weekend at Dragon*Con, one of the biggest sci-fi/fantasy/horror/kitchen sink conventions in at least the Western Hemisphere. It was so much fun, and I was really having some post-con depression earlier today, when, on the way home, we stopped at a Subway and I realized that I couldn't strike up a conversation with the person next to me in line nearly as easily. At the con, I once had a ten-minute discussion about dice with a nice lady while waiting for the elevator.

Oh my gosh, the elevator. There were eight of them in my hotel, and from 9:30 in the morning to 11:00 or so at night, they were jam-packed. That was the only place I ever really saw people get cranky. Most of the time, though, the elevators were just fun; there's a sense of comradery that comes from waiting twenty minutes for an elevator and then riding it up eight floors before you can go down to the lobby twenty-two floors down. You don't even worry about whether it's an "up" or "down" elevator. Rule 1 od Dragon*Con: An elevator with an open door is a good elevator.

(Rule 2: Extra space for you is always a plus.)

One particularly fun elevator ride was one in which I was the last person who could possibly fit (as one of the smaller people there, this happened fairly often), and this was on the lobby level. The elevator then proceeded to stop at every single floor. I think the lowest level any of us was going to was 18.

So, to dissuade people from trying to fit, we tried out a set of Elevator Evasionary Tactics (or EET for short. Incidentally, EETing was more common than eating, because between panels and trying to catch the elevator to your next panel, you did not have time.). These included crowding the door to make it look more full when it opened, simultaneously exhaling as the doors opened, and turning our backs to the door. Great fun, great people.

I went to a lot of the writer's track panels (mostly because I knew how to get to them - the con was spread across three hotels in downtown Atlanta, and these were not easy-to-navigate hotels as a rule) and listened in to a lot of great discussions, but I think I got the most about storytelling from the panel on the show Fullmetal Alchemist.

(I don't care if you're sick to death of me talking about it; I will keep talking about it until each and every one of you has watched it. There are a lot of mediocre shows, and quite a few good shows, but there are some shows that transcend, to quote the single panelist, Vic Mignogna, voice of the title character. You think he's just saying that because he worked on it? He's not giving panels on the other eighty shows he's done.)

A girl in a Final Fantasy costume right in front of me asked Vic if there was one question he kept hoping people would ask, and what was his answer to it. He responded that there was a question that had been asked some time before, "If you could sum up Fullmetal Alchemist in one word, what would it be?" He said that he'd asked the audience and got a lot of wonderful, relevant words - "family," "love," "power," "hope" - but then someone managed to hit it right on the head.

Sacrifice.

The whole premise of the show is that (to quote the opening) humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. ... In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.

There's a certain element of power in any theme if it's used well (my other favorites are those of family and betrayal) but this has a different quality to it. It can send chills down anyone's spine. Everyone knows, however distantly, what sacrifice means. And as Vic said, it's sacrifice that separates the villains from the heroes. The heroes sacrifice themselves, in some way, to help others. The villains (quite literally, in this case) sacrifice others to help themselves.

That's powerful.

I'm currently suffering the misfortune of being stuck in a freshman Literature and Composition class, and we all know what Lit/Comp teachers are like: a theme is a message that the story tells you (or rams down your throat), a moral. Don't live above your means, always tell the truth, yadda yadda yadda. I'm sorry, but last time I checked, that was called a message. Or a moral. I'm interested; am I the only one that thinks that "theme" is something less cut-and-dried? You tell me.

As a last note (because I did mention it in the post title) I went to a panel this morning in the YA Lit track. The topic was Utopias and Dystopias, and the conversation was fantastic (as was the panel--Scott Westerfeld, for the win!), but one thing Scott said really stuck with me, and I think it's an important thing to think about for anyone writing YA.

"It's one of the functions of parents to make sure their kids don't end up in a YA novel."

We'd begun discussing how the removal of children from their parents is one of the hallmarks (or at least creation factors) of a utopian/dystopian society. When you think about it, though, it holds true for most YA; there has to be a mechanism for getting parents out of the way so that the kids can go on their adventures. Something to keep in mind.

I'll be back with pictures as soon as I sift through the 84 I took for the good ones - though my entire family was there, the camera case ended up being my purse for the weekend. Just enough room for camera, keys, and money. Perfect.

I really need some sleep. Or caffeine. I'm not picky.

Church Girl (or Grrrl) Reflections

Yesterday I found Evolution, Me & Other Freaks of Nature by Robin Brande at my bookstore and snapped it up in a heartbeat. I read it in less than three hours.

At its core, it's a book about a church girl, Mena, trying to find her way around in a world of different values and beliefs without losing her faith. It's about finding a balance between science and God, and it's about the stunning hypocrisy in the church today. I can identify with Mena on a lot of levels, but that last was the big one. I've seen it: the girls who wear too-small Christian T-shirts and use them to justify acting like the Wicked Witch of the South. The cliques that form, the ostracization that can happen, the startling lack of forgiveness (which is what it should be all about).

Robin Brande writes in a voice that is fresh, real, and honest. Her characters are vivid, if not always likable, and she knows her way around a high school. And, most important to me, though there are some truly nasty Christian characters running around, the issue of faith--not overrestrictive faith, but faith--is treated with respect. That, in today's market, is brave. Thank you for your bravery, Robin.

Be on the lookout for this book. I think it's going places.

Robin, let's do lunch. Sometime. Somehow.

Calling All Seamstresses

And seamstr...ers? Tailors? Whatever.

So, as any anime fans in the audience know, the convention season is upon us. As any school types could tell you, Spirit Week (and its assorted opportunities for dressing up) is on the horizon as well. And, obviously, Halloween is right around the corner. Which means it's costuming time!

I couldn't explain why--I sure don't know--but lately I've been extremely into sewing. And I've gotten fairly good at it. Good enough to feel confident in helping out friends of mine with their costumes.

But there are some things I just don't know how to do yet. Like ruffles. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but one of my friends has decided to dress up as Rose from the show Fullmetal Alchemist for Character Day at our school. I love this idea, because I'm going to be Dante and that's one of the creepiest character dynamics in the show, so it'll be a blast...but the only costumes of Rose's that are in dress code are this one and this one. Ruffles galore.

Does anyone here have any tips for sewing ruffles, poofy sleeves and skirts, that sort of thing? Any good sources for such? Websites, book titles? I'd really love to pull this off for my friend (not to mention, my costume has some minor ruffling as well).

Anything you have would be appreciated!

Now I just have to finish my Ty Lee costume for Dragon*Con...

(Am I procrastinating on writing? Yes. Yes I am.)

Not Quite as Much Sludge

Thanks to several hours of reading from The New Writer's Handbook and pondering the conflicts of my story, my enthusiasm for the project has been rekindled and I'm pretty sure I know where I'm going. No word yet on whether I can actually pull a couple of the things off, but it's looking better. That's the good part.

The bad part is that I can think of four five scenes that I can keep. Mostly. But as two of those are my favorite scenes in the whole book (that should have been a sign) I don't mind too much.

And one of my favorite characters (who, really, was never all that important - I just liked him and wanted him to be - rookie mistake!) is getting the boot. Poor guy'll be lucky to get a cameo now. But that's as it should be.

I'm going in. (My outline is taking place in Excel this time around. Sticky notes are too easy to lose.)

Wish me luck.

Jump-Sludge

Status on the WiP:

Wordcount: 63,000 (3k of that out of sequence)
Plot threads existing: roughly 3...ish...maybe closer to 4-ish.
Plot threads tied up: None
Plot threads existing that I know how to tie up: 1...maybe...

In short: not doing so well.

I still love the idea for this story. The themes I decided to work with. The first chapter. Unfortunately, those things have become totally unconnected with the story as it stands in my mind and, I'm beginning to suspect, as it stands on paper. On the screen. Whatever.

Is it unusual to start losing faith in myself as a writer at this stage of the game? Because I feel like I've somehow abandoned the story I wanted to tell, and I really have no clue how to go back to it; I set up several incredibly ambitious situations, and when it comes time for the great reveal, I have no idea how I'll pull it off. I'm beginning to think, maybe, that I might be able to write the story I want to tell here in a few more years, after a little more experience--but right now, it's looking rather slim.

I'm going to finish this draft and see what I can do, for a number of reasons: maybe it'll look better as a whole on paper, maybe I'll be able to see more clearly what needs to be done...that, and (I say this with total confidence) if I don't, after abandoning another project (which, in all fairness, already hadn't worked once) to write this one, my mother will kill me.

Have any of you been there? How did you deal with it?

What NOT To Do

I forget where I first saw this, but I just found it again and wanted to share. Enjoy!