Sure, now it works! And Jolly Fish and Cereal

Blogger has been giving me the spinning wheel of death in the "compose" box for a couple of weeks. Finally it allows me to blog! My need to spew into the blogosphere has been great, and now that it allows me, I've pretty much drawn a blank.

Meanwhile, I'm getting excited about Big in Japan! I finished all the edits over spring break. Believe me, doing edits while riding for 37 hours in a 13 year-old Suburban filled with five kids, eleven drying out Happy Meals, and a neverending litany of books on CD is a little tricky. I wonder if anything I sent back to my publisher is even coherent.

It seems they still like me, however. I get encouraging emails from them at least once a week. How nice is that? Jolly Fish Press! They're pretty awesome. I wish every writer could find as great a group of people to work with as I've been lucky/blessed enough to find.



A lot of my writing friends, both published and yet-to-be-published have been asking me about this publisher. Seriously? I have no complaints at all whatsoever. I've always known I'd prefer to be with a small press, where the team knows the writers, where it's a smaller pond. (Not that I'm some big fish, just another jolly one.) I really like being part of a family-like operation. There are other writers who would prefer to be all New York, and that's great! I can see the merit in that. I'm just more of a small town girl, and a small press fits my personality. If that's you, I say go for it. Query these guys. You've got nothing to lose, and a great group of friends and cheerleaders to gain.

So. Cold cereal. It's still my nemesis. That darned Vanilla Almond Awake. Did I mention I'm running 15 miles a week now? Every week. And do I lose any weight? Nope. Back in the day, John Belushi said, "I owe it all to little chocolate doughnuts." Me? I owe it all to the delicious array of cold cereals that span my hall pantry. I think I need a handful of it now to get me through until it's time to go pick up the kids.

[Geez. Blogger. It won't let me upload the pic of my cereal. Imagine it HERE.]

The Maker of the Treats!

The other night I took my PYRAMID of RICE KRISPIES TReATS to the Scout Court of Honor, and one of the boys said, "Wow, Sister Griffith. Are you the Maker of the Treats?"

Why, yes. Yes, I am. In fact, I'd really like a t-shirt that says this.

I'm still plugging away at my edits. Just a couple dozen pages to go! I can almost smell the cake I'm going to make for myself when I'm done. Mmm. Chocolate. The recipe from the side of the Hershey's Cocoa can, with the frosting recipe from it, too. (That delicious frosting has officially turned me into a Frosting Snob. I can never again appreciate a canned frosting.)

The Cake of My Editing Accomplishment Dreams

Of course, naturally I'll only be eating ONE BITE of this delicious cake, since I'm not eating sugar anymore. Well, not very much sugar, anyhow.

When I was 19 I worked in the Pepperidge Farm Cookie Factory for a summer. Perhaps I've mentioned this before. Well, the point of it was to earn money to spend on a trip to Europe with my roommates. I spent a lot of my time there looking like Lucille Ball in the candy factory, and probably cost the company more money than I made for them. It was a bit of a disaster. However, my sweet Dad put a poster on my wall: "As you work, think 'Eur-ope, Eur-ope, Eur-ope, Yurrr-up!'" It really helped.

Then the trip was the incentive for the cookie work. Now, the cake is the incentive for the writing work.

I work well with incentives.

My Life Has Shifted--and Pumpkin Cookies

Autumn is in the air. Well, sort of. My gauge still read 109* when I got in the car yesterday, so it's certainly not the autumn chill yet.

BUT SCHOOL is IN!

And that means autumn schedule. And that means a chance to write!

Can I express even an iota of how exciting that is?

It gets even better. The 3yo qualified for preschool (read: potty trained herself) and gets to go have fun a couple of mornings a week with Ms. K. Very exciting for her--and for me!

A lot can happen in three hours. Seriously. This morning during that kid-free block, I actually finished the hard-copy edit of my book. Yeah! I've been laboring at it for a month, taking bits and chunks at a time. Today my method was edit 5 pages, do one batch of laundry; edit 5 more pages, clean the play room; edit 5 pages, get a pan of pumpkin cookies going for the pack meeting refreshments.

PUMPKIN COOKIES! What says autumn more than the spicy smell of pumpkin cookies baking in your house (even if it's now over 80* in here because the oven's been on for 2 1/2 hours)?

The only downside is we picked this week to get our first puppy ever. A dog. An indoor dog. She's cute--darling, actually--but, didn't we have a prenuptial agreement about this? I've got to dig that thing out. Just 48 hours before I got my first real taste of freedom in almost 14 years, dog. But the kids begged.

It's just more evidence that my kids are turning me into a better person than I ever had any interest in being.

Anyhow, I'd better get back to turning these paper edits into digital info in my Word document. Then maybe I'll stop getting up to taste the pumpkin cookies.

Not My Pumpkin Cookies, but Really Close!

PUMPKIN COOKIES
1 box Spice flavor cake mix
1 14.5 oz can pumpkin
1 bag mini chocolate chips

Combine all three ingredients. Drop onto cookie sheets. Bake 325* for 30 minutes.

(Oh, but note: the ones on the dark pan burned a bit on the bottom. I'm only sampling those. I promise.)

Kool Aid on the Floor and Crayons in the Dryer--Emotions to Draw From

It's messy work, being a mom. This afternoon I was in the throes of discovering a melted green crayon in the dryer had speckled and streaked and ruined an entire batch of whites when the 8yo and the 6yo entered the laundry room baring gifts of red-soaked dishtowels.

"What's that?"

"She dumped it. We told her not to."

Red Kool-Aid. All over the newly mopped kitchen floor. Thanks, 3yo chica. Making my day, here.

At least they were trying to remedy the situation. I do have pretty darn good kids.

But life does get in the way of writing a lot of the time. My goal was to edit another 20 pages today. I'm doing the hard stuff, cutting from 95,000 words down to 85,000. Whole paragraphs and scenes are getting the ax. It's painful.

Yeah, it's painful enough to see my words, my creation circling the drain--I didn't need destruction swirling around me too.

Then again, it's these moments that give me experience to draw from. One of the things we have to do as writers is to imbue our characters with strong emotions (frustration and despair included.) And even though I hope I never write a story about a haggard mom slogging her way through the drudgery of housework, I can tap these experiences, notice how I feel and put it into words. Then I can transpose these feelings (no matter what source they come from) onto my characters and into their situations.

So, it's not all a loss. Not entirely.

I guess.

Red Kool Aid is my nemesis. (Even though it tastes fabulous. Especially Tropical Punch.)

Click Here for How to Get Red Kool Aid Out of Carpet

Captain America (Dialogue Tension) and Hot Tamales

We went to see Captain America last night. I know, Tuesday night date night--awesome! While I was on my roadtrip, we got behind on movies and had to get back on track with the summer blockbusters.

I loved Captain America. For one thing, it was great to see a superhero that wasn't flawed. He was chosen to become super for his integrity and values, and he remained true to them in courage to the end. It was refreshing after years of anti-heroes.

I love going to the movies for a lot of reasons. One is the popcorn. So salty, so fabulous. My friend Tina told me (possibly it was a comment on this blog!) that popcorn mixed with Hot Tamales candy is fantastic. I can't imagine she's wrong. I bet it's great. Cinnamon, sugar, salt, butter, heat. Yeah!
Are there too many references to hot things in this blog?


Which reminds me, the guy who played Captain America also played the Human Torch in Fantastic Four a few years ago. (Not my favorite film. All they did was stand around and complain they had super powers. Come on!)

As I was listening to the movie's dialogue, I noticed some great things about it. One, no phrase was wasted. Every single line served to reveal character of the speaker. It either explained some kind of background, some values he/she held, or some dream he/she had. Well done, screenwriters!

Another thing it did well was convey tension. Each line had conflict. Every sentence challenged another character's feelings or beliefs or ego. The romantic lines were especially good--no mushiness, all tension and strength.

I know, I know--a show like that shouldn't be a primer for how to do dialogue. We should refer to Woody Allen's older works or something. But this was good stuff, and I'm excited to get back to editing this morning and take a lesson from Captain America.

I think we all could.

Reading Aloud and Raspberry Freezer Jam

I got a nice review on Goodreads this morning. Made my day!

I'm doing a new kind of editing. Well, new to me. I've been on a road trip, as the only driver, and I've had my teenage son read me my draft as we motor along the highways of America. I need to cut about 40 pages (yipes!) to get the draft down to a reasonable length (85,000 words, from what I can tell from research and asking around--that's in the good length zone).

It's working really well. It's very different to read and just listen, and not have the words in front of me. (Instead I am dodging roadkill and triple-trailer semi trucks.) But as he reads I can hear different things that don't sound right, find redundancies, spot boring and wordy places, and passages that are convoluted become painfully obvious.

Every time I've edited in the past I've had a hard copy or at least a computer screen copy in front of me, and I've almost always been the one doing the reading aloud when read-alouds were on the menu of the session. This is a totally different experience, and I have to say it's really valuable.

Isn't my kid a great sport? Yes, he IS! (Plus, to my great delight he's been begging to read the draft and is enjoying it.) Oh, and he made me take out a word he hated. That's good.

My candy of choice this week isn't candy per-se. It's raspberries. As we drove into one of the mountain valleys, we came across a roadside stand (see previous entry). A teenage girl was selling flats of raspberries for $34. I know, it's a pricey habit, but they are pure gold. Especially when I turned them into jam. The recipe called for 3 cups of mashed fruit and 5 1/2 cups of sugar. Am I keeping to my no-sugar resolve? Not so well. But I tell myself that it's fruit so it doesn't count. And it's seriously the best thing in the world. I adore homemade raspberry freezer jam. It only takes about 20 minutes to make a huge five-and-a-half-cups-of-sugar batch and it will make me happy for weeks to come!

These aren't my jars or my recipe, but mine looks just like this!

JOY!

The Vicious Cycle of Shopping and Editing

            I’ve been substituting one compulsive behavior for another. Now, instead of candy I’m shopping online. Not buying, unfortunately, because that much shopping is just NOT in the budget, but browsing. And browsing online is fun. Very fun.

            The world is at my fingertips. I can shop for expensive chandeliers and cheap vinyl toilet seat covers and bounce house castles and rocket fuel (been there, done that) all from the convenience of my lounge chair.

            Last week it was swimsuits. It’s so much less demoralizing to shop for swimwear when they’re only visible on strangers who have flawless, retouched skin and bodies. In fact, it makes swim shopping fun. And I found a place that has a guarantee even if I wear the thing and decide it makes my arms look wonky. Yes! It’s painless.

            Of course online shopping does tend to make me want to buy things. When I was loading up my pretend shopping cart full of Target merchandise I probably won’t buy (leaving my hopes up high), it dawned on me: the reason I was shopping was to avoid editing. BUT, the reason I was editing was so I could eventually have a little more spare change so I CAN shop. Ultimately, I guess I want to sell my latest piece of novelized cotton candy, and if I do, it would help me get from filling the shopping cart to actually getting to the checkout.

            Duh. Well, at least that motivated me to get back to work. With that realization I moved forward and rewrote a whole problem chapter and got a new chapter-to-fix-a-plot-hole started.

            Whatever it takes.

            My sister in law is making an English trifle tonight for our multi-family culture night. It will have orange and raspberries. Dang. I think I’ll eat just one bite. Maybe two. I do love a good trifle. She had a deep insight: lots of English food seems to be soft and squishy and mushed together. Trifles, puddings, etc. They do eat an awful lot of puddings. Fine by me. I love a good bread pudding. Mm. With vanilla cream sauce. Squish that!

Other Sweet Things

Since I'm off candy (with the exception of a few handfuls of cold cereal now and then, which, as you well know by now, IS candy), I have to look for other sweet things to fill my life.

One is listening to my kids play the piano. When I was growing up I always suspected my practicing was a grating irritation to all listeners, as I'm certain it probably was. When I signed my oldest up for piano lessons, I heard that old favorite "Here we go, up a row, to a birthday party," about a kabillion times--almost as many as I heard "From a Wigwam."

Strawberry Shortcake Flavored Mezzo Piano Candy, totally Japanese

Then my mother in law told me something in passing. She came by and asked the Wigwammer to please practice and she'd like to listen. She said to me, "Piano practice by children is one of the sweetest sounds I can ever hear."

That struck me. While I couldn't necessarily agree initially, it seemed I could probably change my attitude. So I did. And now, with three kids in lessons and one more ready and begging to start, I have to say I absolutely LOVE to hear them play. It's hard the first days after a lesson to hear them struggle, and to sense their frustration, to see them draped over the bench and hear the moaning of despair at a new song. (This week's despair was induced by "The Streets of Laredo.") But it improves! And it's great! And the oldest did his first solo in sacrament meeting at church on Sunday and I realized it was all worth it.

Mozart Piano Candy Bar. Who KNEW?

I think writing must be like that, too. At first the product is a mess. It's frustrating. It doesn't seem like it will ever come together. Some projects make me moan and drape myself over my desk and wish I didn't have to do it. But when I power through and keep working at it, sometimes the result gives me a twinge of joy and it's all worth it.

And there's another application, that whole "change your mind to change your situation" thing. I guess that could apply to many areas of life beyond piano noise, including editing. So, hey! I LOVE editing. It makes the whole project shine! It's fun because you get to dig right in and make things better, things that just need a little polish. Or a lot. Doesn't matter. Editing is worth it. It's a great time!

There. Now I should get back to editing. Sweeeet.

Clean Carpets and Clean Manuscripts

Last week I did what I dread. I pulled out my carpet shampoo-er. It was time. Long past time.

To get the dirty deed done, first I had to move a ton of furniture into the garage and to the side of the room. This involved silk plants and magazine racks and the rocking chair and a couple of lamps and the little bookcase with all the kids' piano books. And the kitchen table and chairs. And tipping the loveseat up on its side and balancing it against the window casing. And shoving the long couch up against the front window where no one walks or drags trikes or sleds or rollerskates so the carpet is still relatively bluish there, as opposed to the brown-grey-blue of the heavy traffic areas.

In this house, with these feet, everywhere is a heavy traffic area.

Then, it was the vacuums. I make that plural because the big one, my Hoover Platinum, vacuums the middle of the floor, and the hand-held with the wand gets the edges of the room. Man, that thing has a loud, high-pitched wail. Good thing I put in earplugs, or I'd be sitting here enjoying the strains of tinnitis instead of Phineas and Ferb being piped in from the other room.

How long does it usually take me to vacuum? Like 15 minutes? More or less. This time, I think I clocked in at three times that long. There was just that much dirt lurking. Ground in cold cereal, thanks to the little girls doll tea parties. Hey, I had a bad year for housework. It happens.

FINALLY, I pulled out Old Reliable. Er, Old Soapy. Or whatever it is I'm going to name that shampoo-carpeter (as my sister calls it.) The Hoover SteamVac. It's pretty heavy. And it's loud. And it requires vacuuming at a snail's pace with something twice as cumbersome as my regular vac.

It took me five (count 'em five) hours of push and pull to get through the living room and hallway. Forget the bedrooms. Every time I emptied that rinse basin, I cringed. How could that black sludge be all around us?

WE ARE LIVING IN SQUALOR.

When I finished, I couldn't just stop. The black sludge sickened me. I had to make another pass. Against the better judgment of my impending back-pain, I got up my courage and made another pass.

Guess what. No black sludge! Yes!

Sure, there was brown sludge this time, but it wasn't black this time. A little cleaner! So happy.

After that pass, I realized it could use another rinse. However, I'd been at it for hours, and all I could do was crawl into the passenger seat of our suburban and say, "Sweetie, can you, just, please, uh, drive me through McDonalds. Need. Hamburger. Need. Yogurt. Please?"

My sweetie did. Those yogurt parfaits deserve a place in the candy pantheon. I love them.

So. My point is this. The first time I went through my manuscript to edit it, it made me sick. Pulling out black sludge. Chunks of goo. Bad, bad, murky nasty. It made me want to quit.

But I kept at it. The second time, it was more like brown sludge. Less goo. More clarity. And the third time, even cleaner.

Now, on my umpteenth read-through, it's a lot cleaner. My critique pals are pointing out the typos, rather than the glaring plot errors, for the most part, and it's encouraging.

So, to get a clean draft, it might take a lot of passes to get there. It's worth it! Here at home my carpet is almost blue everywhere again. I walk through and it's spongy fluff, rather than brownish matted ick. What a change! I feel the same way about my manuscript. With every pass it improves.

Of course, like with any analogy, it can be taken too far. The wash cycle can actually start wearing away at the fibers of the carpet, and likewise over-editing can start chipping away at the charm and life of the story. Be gentle and selective and careful.

Now. Enough of that. I have been thinking about that yogurt parfait and how a lot of things ought to be included in the Candy Family. How did that biology chant go? Kingdom, phylum, class...Who knows. Anyhow, it's my firm belief that many cold cereals belong firmly in in the candy family. For sure any that list its first ingredient as sugar just flashes "candy!" at you. Apple Jacks? Candy. Froot Loops? Totally candy. Those taste a lot like Skittles to me. Sugar Smacks...burned candy. What about anything that is half sugar-coated oat flour and half marshmallows? Undeniably candy.

Bill Cosby had a skit about fatherhood where his kids were chanting something about chocolate cake for breakfast. Not a bad idea. But candy/cereal -- just a good substitute for that on days we don't feel like baking before the morning meal.

Bring on the sugar. I'll have mine in honey nut flavor today, please.

Reading Aloud to Edit -- and How Bad Banana Taffy and Fluff Writing Can Save Us

So, I got the draft done! So happy! Now, back to the editing board again.

This time I'm going through it with a fine toothed voice. I mean, I'm reading the whole draft aloud, from hard copy, in front of a live studio audience. 

This is an undertaking. It needs to be done. I have found errors on every single page, missing words, words that aren't quite right, punctuation errors, things that just sound wonky. And this is after months and months of working on the draft in silence and on the screen.

Part of the problems arise from the fact I've worked on the draft in so many different stages. I cut and pasted from earlier drafts, and some things just don't make sense any more. They are irrelevant or inconsistent or just foreign to the current draft. Some of the problems arise from the fact I was being interrupted by my cute little ones while I wrote, someone needing a drink or a ride somewhere or a piece of candy.  Errors. Oversights. Glaring mistakes.

I honestly think if I hadn't gone through it reading it aloud I would not have seen a lot of these problems. This is a good exercise.

There's another little perk, though, besides catching the problems with the draft. Reading it aloud to the live studio (or SUV road trip captives!) audience gives me a sense of what's working in the draft. When the listeners react, either with laughs or groans, with questions, with gasps in the character's behalf, then I get a sense of what a real reader's reaction might be when the text eventually lies before them. Sweet.

Speaking of road trips, I like to keep movie size boxes of candy in the glove compartment of my Suburban, in the case of an emergency candy fit halfway between hither and yon.  Or if a bunch of kids are stuck in the car waiting ... waiting ... waiting, and needing candy.  Candy calms the savage beast, be it child or mom.

Here are a few favorite car candies:

I like the Hot Tamales in there because it's kind of hard for a kid to eat a whole box of those in one sitting, what with all the cinnamon flavoring. They last a while, most of the time. Jelly bean based things work well. Or hard candy. Candy buttons are great because it's just dried frosting and it will last forever in there. Plus the kids for some reason think it's the coolest candy ever. Around here, anything like taffy or chocolate is a mistake in the glove compartment. We went for a drive last week and needed the AC. Seriously. Mid-January. Please! Mid-January should be hot chocolate, not air conditioning.

Last summer, we were on a ridiculously long drive with stupid wrong turns and missed exits and doubling back and fifty potty breaks and I'd about had it. Then, at the back of the glove compartment I found this orphaned banana flavored Laffy Taffy, crusty on the edges, still chewy in the middle. I'm sure it had melted and re-solidified scores of times. I generally skip banana flavored candy (which is probably why it remained beneath the registration and insurance info), but at the time, nothing could have been more welcome. Sugar! It saved my sanity.

That's why I love it. You know, spun-sugar type writing can be just what we need when we're going through an annoying or tough journey. Even a bad old dried up banana flavored taffy type piece of writing can be just what our souls need. Bring on the empty calories. We need it from time to time.

Now, off to finish reading it aloud to my audience. Maybe I should ply them with a bulk canister of licorice.

Want it Most of All

My sister in law just stopped by to visit. She'd been to the Sweet's Candy Company in Salt Lake City on a factory tour. My eyes about popped out of my head when I heard this. In fact, I found myself getting irrationally jealous. Get this: at the factory store, she'd purchased a 27 pound box of chocolate covered cinnamon bears (a $115 value) for $15!

Insane jealousy.

She told me there were great, cool facts on the tour. Did you know it takes several days to make a jelly bean? The sugar layers have to dry.

Of course I can't remember the exact number of days now that I'm posting this. But it made me think. It takes several layers of effort in editing and writing to make a great, sweet story.

I'm reading a novel for a friend, for a critique. I really like the characters, and the story is unique. I'm interested to see where it's going.

However, I'll be honest. I'm not as interested as I might be. Why not? Because of one glaring omission.

RULING PASSION.

That would be like the jelly center of the bean.

In the book How to Write a Da*n Good Novel by James N. Frey, the author explains in great detail the importance of imbuing our characters with ruling passions. The character has to have a goal, something he wants more than anything else, and must be willing to go after it. The more the character wants it, the more the reader will care, the more the reader will pull for the character and invest their own feelings into the story.

When a character has a ruling passion, and a clear goal, we can begin to worry as readers whether the character will achieve the goal. And, Frey says, that's what the reader wants is to worry.

I was thinking about this--when I read for escape (and that's my favorite kind of reading) the cotton candy of the story takes my mind away from what I'm worrying about in my own life, and I can worry about something else. The diversion of worry lets me forget my own problem and I can invest in the fiction, leaving behind reality. The more I can worry about the fake person, the more I forget my own life.

So, I think Frey has a point.

As I read this novel for my friend, I look forward to letting him in on the secret Frey shared. A novel like this that is well constructed and has fleshed-out characters can only be made more solid with a clear goal for the reader to pull for. It already has sparkle and magic. It just needs focus.

As a writer, I have been working to get my characters to be more solid, and when their ruling passion is as clear to me as possible, it seems to shape all their behavior, and I think it makes for better characterization. The love interest girl in my book I'm editing (my own) lacks it, and I need to figure out what it is that drives her. I believe it will lift her out of obscurity and boringness and into the believable, sympathetic character I need her to be!

Meanwhile, if you're wishing YOU could go on the Sweet's Candy Company tour, you can click here to book a tour (or just to check out the home page and salivate over the candy.)

Of all the treats my sister in law bought, this was the crown jewel.

RED LICORICE FLAVORED SALTWATER TAFFY.

I have to say, possibly the best taffy of all time, and that's saying a lot.

I wonder how much shipping costs.

Weird Writing Tricks (Link)

I just read a great blog about three weird writing tricks for using when it's time to "show not tell."

Finally, my Twitter account is useful to me!

http://bit.ly/9d6zFp

I love the examples she gives. I'm going to start looking for these in the books I read, and then (I hope) I can start putting some good ones into my own writing. Like, "He chuckled low, like the growl of a cornered animal."

Okay, I just wanted to use the word chuckle because I love this picture. I can't remember this candy from the '70s, but I'm pretty sure I would have liked it. I am a fairly indiscriminate candy lover.

Speak to me, honey!

As I go through this novel, trying to get every detail to work together to tell the story, one of my big goals is to get the lines of each character to sound both unique and authentic. What I mean is, I'd like each of the speakers to have his/her own voice, and to be able to sound true in the reader's ear, so that the reader can really imagine the character as being a living human being.

It's kind of tough. In one of the stories I wrote, I loosely based a character on a friend of mine from another country. Even though she and I never spoke much English to one another, I knew her well enough to be able to imagine how she would speak if she were to say something in English. In feedback from readers, one of the compliments I got was on the authenticity of that particular character's voice. "She seems so real," they said. Even though my foreign pal never did anything I had my character do in the novel, her "voice" came in handy when I was looking for a speaking style for a character.

I have wondered if other authors have different tricks for hearing their characters "speak."

If so, speak up in the comment section!

I guess in honor of this topic, the candy I should probably go track down is Pop Rocks because they talk to me, right? And, it's so awesome that I found *this* flavor of Pop Rocks online, eh?