Houston Writers Guild

       Writing -for me- is like having an endless cheesecake with blueberry topping sitting inside my head.  Constantly craving  it, but as you eat, the cheesecake doesn't disappear (or add pounds) ...it just creates this salivation for more cheesecake.
       Just when I thought I couldn't crave the cheesecake anymore...I joined a critique group...and now I just may end up in an AA meeting for cheesecake someday!

(left to right: George, "Book," Jolene, Jeremiah, Araceli, Enos)

         The picture shows only a handful of people that attend one of the three critique groups.  Over 60 people regularly attend these critique groups... and the guild itself has ALOT more members.

         A little about my buddies in the picture who have made me feel so welcomed:

* George- "I call him "the voice"- his commercial tone and storytelling skills make the phone book sound like an interesting story-- why most people choose him to read their material!

* "Book"- most opinionated and doesn't sugar-coat it: which is hard to take when you are hearing it, but you really appreciate it later

* Jeremiah- Good-natured, quirky Science Fiction Writer; the gentle critic- highlights the good points of writing and then surprises me with a very specific suggestion for the piece.

* Araceli- Quiet and reserved, whose comments are generally verbal; she writes young adult

* Enos- his grumpy act isn't fooling me- I'll grow on you eventually!  Focuses on the big concepts in your work that are missing

Our president, Rodger Paulding, the quiet observer who edits your complex sentences for better read-ability.

Preparing for my next novel.

Now that I have 57 character sketches, 86 pages of character dialogue (18, 544 words), and a map of my imaginary world... I guess I am ready to start my next novel now.

What's this next novel about, you want to know...It's a teen novel that will be a mix between literary and modern fiction.  .Setting= Houston Suburbs/ Middle School.  I could talk for hours about this book, but unless your my friend or future agent... you'll just have to wait until it's finished.  I have no doubt this book will be taught in schools one day because of the message that will be in it. 

It is sad that I can't share a clip of the dialogue or idea without feeling that it might get stolen.  Sad, sad world we live in.

Best place to get dialogue.

As if you needed a reason to get out and meet your neighbors or actually go to church....but if you are a writer... you just might...because I have gotten the BEST dialogue and speech patterns from talking to neighbors or listening to people give lessons in church.  After all, no loud music or noisy crowds like the mall.

For example: Nigerian man speaking English during a Sunday school lesson.  I noticed for the most part he sounded like an American.  But on longer words with more than two syllables, he was VERY articulate/ over articulate for someone living in Texas.  Also, every o after the first consant was pronounced as an ah sound.  So, correct became cahrrect and work became wahrk.  He was educated, too, so his vocabulary was more extensive than some other people.  He also said, "Any other thoughts?" when he wanted someone else to volunteer to talk.  The last thing I noticed was that the short i sound was pronounced with a long e sound.  If became eef, interesting became een-trist-ing.

Taking Undercover to the Mall

One of my dialogue exercises suggests you go to the mall and ease drop on people's conversations, then write down what you remember.  Well, I found several problems with this suggestion.  1) the music at the mall is so loud and obnoxious that you can be standing next to someone and not hear people talk. So, I thought, the food court might be better, but alas, the music and noise is so loud there and the chatter so everywhere, that you cannot hear the person sitting right next to you, either.  This picture is of me trying on a dress as I record the two sentences I just heard when I first entered the mall.  I was afraid someone would notice me taking notes on my phone, so I thought... dressing room!  I bought that dress!

At this point, I am still trying to run to the dressing room to record my snip bits of dialogue I heard.  I was a little disappointed at how little I could overhear in a certain amount of time, but more I was disappointed in how "immature" the language of both adults and teenagers was.  For example: sixty year old white woman with a hickish country accent, drab looking clothes, over weight, and a curved back stated into her cell phone: "When I say she's bad, I mean  she's gone all to heck."  Or... as I was waiting in the Chick-fil-a line, a pimply overweight teenager with red curly hair was rating girls after they left the line, in front of the other customers... just like we didn't exist. "I rate that one a seven," he says about this adorable, petite girl who works at Claire's (I had already run into her at the store and had a conversation ). The other two do a moaning, like they disagree.  "What u don't think so?" They moan again.  "What u think I was being too nice?"  At this point, I am finally at the cash register, and the guy stops talking as if he realized finally that they rest of the restaurant could hear his conversation.  Of course, I had some witty comeback in my mind to berate him in front of the restaurant, "For a guy that I would rate a zero, you are not one to be rating women, especially your customers."  That comment flickered in my head, as did summoning the manager because I really enjoyed the conversation that I had with that Claire's girl, and I knew I was next to be rated.  However, I choose the nobler path... emulating Chaucer... Do you remember Chaucer from A Knight's Tale, "I will eviscerate you in fiction. Every pimple, every character flaw. I was naked for a day; you will be naked for eternity."  Beware the person who scorns the writer!  I didn't buy those clothes in my hands, but I did try them on, along with a two hundred dollar sexy dress that made me look amazing while still having sleeves and going an inch above my knees, but too much money and no place to wear it!

The last dress I tried on and didn't buy- didn't like that black line across my breasts. After this, I decided that running to the dressing room was a waste of time.  I actually found the best way to hear a conversation in the mall was walking in the hallway.  Anyone who was unfortunate enough to walk behind me, I typed what they said just as they said it.  My best conversations went unwritten and were with two different shop employees, which I didn't write down because I was too interested in shopping in the store to focus on my main agenda...my writing exercise. 

So, was my undercover trip to the mall successful?  Four hours, 11 different types of people, and 135 words noted.  Better than nothing, I guess.   

Dialogue

When I got to a chapter in my last novel and knew what was going to happen, but didn't have the words to get started... I just began with dialogue. I thought to myself...what are the people in this scene going to say one another. Then, I just started typing it out without names, description, or even quotation marks. After I finished two pages of nothing but dialogue, I went back and added all the description, names, body language, and actions. Oh yeah, I inserted the punctuation, too. Apparently, that is necessary. In the end, the chapter would have been fleshed out from the two original pages to ten pages.

So, as I begin formulating and stewing over my next novel... I have decided to practice the art of dialogue. I picked up this book called, Write Great Fiction: Dialogue, Techniques and Exercises for Creating Effective Dialogue. I have read the first few chapters already and engaging myself in all of the suggested dialogue exercises.

One of the tasks suggests that you write a scene that reveals the inner motivations of both people through dialogue. In an effort to be more realistic, I turn to my husband and implore that he do an acting exercise with me. He, of course, makes the horrible mistake of saying yes to me... (horrible for him because now he was so good I am going to try to do this more often.)

So, I give him the character and background that I want him to act out... I tell him what his motivation is and what he is NOT saying that is very important to the entire scene. I recorded the dialogue of our pretend confrontation, so I could transcribe it later for my self-assigned assignment. Have to tell you, this acting out really helped keep the dialogue realistic. I'd share the outcome, but it will be in the middle of my next book. You'll just have to read it then.

Better Writer than a Querier

Here is my main problem with writing... getting someone else (sorry Deanna and Madeline - best friends and children don't count in the book industry) to read my oh so wonderful writing because am not a celebrity or an already famous writer.

So, I am beginning to think that I am a better novelist than query letter writer.

Adult Comedy Fiction Novel

Well, I finally finished my adult comedy, a whole 80,000 words and 306 pages of dog, children, work, Mormon, and dare I say I threw in a little potty and x-box humor for the men out there..... as if a man who looks like Mario Brother's and smells dog breath for a living was not funny enough.... this thirty-year-old man has to find a way to make a lovely brunette advertising agent, who is the current girlfriend of his best friend and neighbor, interested in him.

So, I am back to looking for agents and publishers...

Messages to Mommy

I grew up having lots of pen pals. I loved writing letters to old friends (moved alot as a kid), people that we met on vacation (I could befriend anyone), former camp mates (Especially For Youth at BYU), or just plain strangers (other kids met in AOL chat rooms). However, my favorite all time pen pal was my sister, who was one year older than me- not to be confused with the one three years older who wrote me once (shame shame shame.)

Most people don't even like their sisters, let alone write them. But, most people live with their sisters, too. I, however, was a foster kid, and me and my sisters had been separated from each other since I was nine years old - not in different homes in the same city either- think me in Florida and them in Oregon, Texas, or Virginia. So, when you can only see your sisters for two weeks, every two years...you must write (no such thing as cell phones then and long distance bills were very expensive).

So, when my seven year old daughter, Gwendolynn, could pick anyone she wanted to be pen pals with- It was adorable that she choose me. For the last four weeks she writes me a letter in a notebook, then waits for me to read it and respond. Then, she secretly writes back. Though half of what she writes I can't make out, because she is still developing her writing and spelling skills, I adore her weekly messages to mommy.

Idea for Book Three

As soon as we get home from school each day, Gwendolynn and Madeline start flinging dead trees at me- and there must be at least thirty dead trees in each of their backpacks. “Sign this.” Fling. “Read this.” Fling. “Look at this.” Fling. I ask for a neat, orderly pile every day, but before you know it, the kitchen counters and the kitchen tiles- where many of the papers have flittered to- are littered in a mix of both girls’ papers. I am left sitting on the kitchen floor, drowning in confetti of dead trees as my darling girls have moved on to the cartoon channel.

This Thursday was no different. After spending ten minutes (still in my dress and heels sitting on the kitchen floor) sorting between the “trash” pile and the “sign” piles, I sign the planners and the conduct folders. Anything that does not look like a required signature goes in the trash pile.

After I make Rice Pilaf and chicken, we say the prayer and eat dinner together at the table- hubby  has wandered in when I was cooking.

After dinner, the girls and I are hanging out in the playroom together. Madeline is asking me about the student council form and if I signed it. I have no clue what she is talking about. Madeline disappears and returns with a form that she has fished out of the trash. I vaguely recall the form- ok so I do not recall it all- but here she is dusting pilaf off it.

Madeline, nine, informs me that she wants to run for student council. I am thinking why, when I remember that I was in student council for third through sixth grade, as well. She is very excited to show me a crumbled piece of paper (poor trees) with her speech on it. It basically says that she promises to show up, said four different ways in four different sentences. “Do you want me to help you with your speech?” I ask, because you know mommy’s do not have any of thing else to do (cough). Actually, I took one look at the paper and thought- she is differently going to lose if she uses that speech. So, I ask her a bunch of leading questions to help her create her OWN speech. All the while, I am cringing at the idea of having to make cupcakes for her campaign. Jason informs us that Obama – which is a joke in the family- has banned parents from bringing cupcakes to schools. “Darn, you will just have to win on your smile,” I tell her. Then, she smiles real big revealing her extremely crooked teeth and says with a bit of princess vanity (no clue where she gets that), “Awesome. I have the cutest smile!”

Well, if she makes the Student Council, this very well might be….(wait for it)…Book Three, Sisters of Sugar Land, Vote for Katelyn.

The Waiting Game

I am NOT a good waiter. I'm impatient. I would define myself as a "NOW"er. I think of something, I do it. I want it, (if I can afford it) I get it. An idea pops in my head, I do it now... I don't wait until there is time, I drop everything and do it. So, being a "NOW"er is not very compatible in this writing world. A week has gone by since I sent my manuscripts off and boy does it feel like months have passed. So, meanwhile, do I continue on the series, work on something else, or just wait? All of the above? Thank goodness I have these three girls to occupy me or I would go nutty!

Three Funny Girls

Enter Jocelyn, four, as she climbs up on my lap as I try to type on the computer. Her little soft hands smush my cheeks and make my eyes look at hers. She moves my head to the left and right numerous times. (I have seen her do this to the dogs numerous times and now I feel for them.) I notice something glossy on her shoulder and take a closer look. Ten strips of tape were on both shoulders. “Why is there tape all over you?” I ask smirking, because I have a hard time getting mad at her for cute things, even if they are messy. “My straps of my dress kept falling down, so I taped them,” she says very proudly.

Enter Madeline, nine, we are sitting in the third row of the church. Sacrament has just finished. “Mom,” she says very loudly. “I’m very hungry. Can I ask for the leftover bread?”

Enter Gwendolynn, seven, who has just watched me make myself a Diet Coke. I sit at the couch, two minutes later, she comes to me with a HUGE glass. “Look, Mommy, I made you two cokes.” “Thanks, sweetie,” I say, “but I already have one.” Gwendolynn, who knew this already, replies, “Good, can I have it?” Mommy- that is me- replies, “Hmmmmm…..let me think about that one…. No.” I laugh; she frowns. I have three Diet Cokes to drink.

The Real "Sisters of Sugar Land"

Enough about your boring query trouble, you say. What are the real “Sisters of Sugar Land” are up to?

Everything we did this summer together- except swimming and we did a lot of that- sewing, art, piano, writing, and cooking led up to the “Sisters of Sugar Land Summer Showcase.” You have to envision the sparkles when you say the title or it is no good. Go back and say it with the sparkles.

This showcase consisted of torturing my friends and my husband -gone to India or Norway and in no way gets to steal credit for this- with my children’s wondrous and countless talents.....who apparently take after M- O- M- M-Y. Madeline made cupcakes, played "Book of Mormon Stories" on the piano, showed off her sewn blanket, and read a book she wrote and illustrated. Hmmmm…..who does that sound like....Clap for Madeline! Gwendolynn made these incredible M&M cookies- which I ate too many of. She told everyone about the t-shirts we were wearing (yes, I wore a t-shirt and shorts-gasp). We hand painted them with a silk screen and embroidered designs around the paint. More than ten hours per t-shirt, especially since I made the kids do everything for their own shirt. Clap for Madeline! Jocelyn made a sherbet punch that did not taste good, but she loved it, because Mommy failed to get a recipe first….bad Mommy. She also had her t-shirt to show and wrote a note to Daddy for the audience as her talent- yes my four year-old can write! (again… who does that sound like?) Clap for Mo…I mean Clap for Jocelyn!

Today, the last Friday before all the kids head back to school, we went to Life Time Gym swimming. And while the other parents are sunbathing or talking to one another- or staring at me like I’m an idiot, the girls and I went on another pool adventure. We went in search of the lost turtle, on the water boat train, and to Power Island (which Gwendolynn made up- the island gives you powers- mine was to throw thunderbolts at the children.) And of course, what is a pool adventure without having a pretend cupcake and pizza tasting contest- they all should be waitresses because they really like taking my orders and throwing the food in my face when I tell them it doesn’t taste good and to add more sugar. Weirder than all that was the group of children (strangers) who asked to play with us on our adventures. They also liked taking orders from me- I’m like the female pied piper or something.

Good times. Sigh.

Finding an Agent for my Undiscovered Genius of a Series

Ok, world… I have this incredibly brilliant (choking on my own vanity here) and uplifting children's book series I am writing. These characters are quiet literally my children and I, going through a typical suburban life and letting our imaginations transform the world around us into unlimited possibilities. I know, you are wondering why is that sentence bold; don’t get ahead of me.
So, what is this incredible series called you want to know because you already are hooked on my sassy personality (choking again). Sisters of Sugar Land. I think it is cute, mainly because I’m an English teacher who thinks alliteration rocks the world, but still, I like it. LDS members out there will like the double meaning of “sisters.”
Last Thursday, I sent out my first round of queries to find an agent for my series. (Most of these agent website sites have a pre-apology note posted on their submission page: Sorry it will take 3 months to respond to your query, thanks for your submission.)
Today, I got four responses back (guess they aren’t as busy as they claim). Three said “Not for me” and I kid you not when I tell you that was the entire response. A fourth asked for the entire manuscript. I did a happy dance for about four minutes. When I sat down to send the manuscript, something inside told me to go to the agent’s website again. (I say again, because I really have looked over all the websites I sent my queries to.) Immediately, I get the “no way are you sending it to them” feeling. “But, they want to actually read my work, not some stupid cover letter!” I argue with myself. So, I set out to find out WHY I shouldn’t send it. I re-read the bios of the agents. I write down all of the books they have gotten published and then I look all of those books up online. I know, I know, it is like self-torture as I find each and every one of those books were published and marketed horribly. Many were actually rip offs of other popular series (published with the same name even).
To make up for my rejection, (which I don’t take personally, because they didn’t even read my book…because if they had they would have signed me immediately) I set off to find another agent.
So, I find an agent to query that I like and wouldn’t you know it… this agent has a line by line rubric of what she wants in her query… which is NOT anything that I can just copy and paste from my standard query. So, I wasted an entire day making a special query just for ONE literary agent who had extremely specific sentence by sentence requirements for her submission query... and she is likely to not even request to read my manuscript after all that trouble. And that bold sentence at the top… was line 7 of her special query requirements: Why can you, only you, and no one in the whole world write this story? Duh, it is my actual life… I wanted to write that… but the sentence in bold sounded better.